#doing his best to keep din safe

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Winter's King 25

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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: 😁.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

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The queen snores in her bed. At last, peaceful. You leave her as she is, piled in bedclothes amid the glow of the low-burning fire. You emerge into the corridor, silent, and the door drags closed with a scrape at your cautious pull. The shadow by the pillar shifts.  

You glance over at the guard. Gilles has been relieved of his watch and another man stands in his place. You think you recognise him. He must’ve been one of those which helped the queen seize your cart. The road feels so very long ago and yet there is still much ahead of you. 

“Hold,” the guard warns and gives a whistle, the noise echoing along the high ceilings.  

There’s scuffling further down and you turn to face another silhouette, this one slender and lithe like a wraith. Ezme steps into the light of a lamp and stare at you placidly. She beckons with a hand. 

“Come, maid, I will show you your quarters,” she says. 

You bow your head and go to her. It is unusual you wouldn’t be left to find your way to the servants wing yourself, likely near the kitchens, and yet you are much too weary to question any of it. She turns and you walk at her side. The promise of sleep, even if only a little, has you aching to recline. 

The corridors are quiet but for the soft pad of your footsteps. Fewer lamps light the way than in the daytime and the path grows black. You follow the stirring of the women next to you as she carries on. She touches your arm to stop you, nudging you to the right. You wait and listen as she lifts a latch, the metallic noise cutting through the din, and hinges creak loudly. 

She guides you into the dark chamber by your wrist. It is lit only by moonlight and a brazier burning at the foot of a broad bed. The door clanks shut and you shiver. Ezme moves around you, her skirts brushing your own, and she goes to the low mattress. You squint, these are not servants’ rooms. The bed frame, the brazier, the space swathed in darkness; more often, bodies crowded over bags of hay or on the scant tatters of blankets. 

“You will sleep here,” she says softly, “with me. You will be safe.” 

“Safe? From what?” You croak and rub your cheeks as they burn with fatigue. 

“Need you ask,” she replies knowingly, “it is much too late for those questions. Come, lay, the morning will be upon us swiftly.” 

You don’t argue. She is right. You go to bed and remove your apron and cap. You fold them and put them to the foot of the mattress. She moves a dark square over the blankets towards you. You pause and reach to touch the obscured shape as the dim light offers only vague outline. It’s soft, furry. You feel around and find the familiar rough patch sewn into the lining. It’s the king’s cloak. 

“You will want to keep that close,” she says, “the soldier made certain to leave it for you.” 

“Bryce?” You wonder aloud, “is he your friend?” 

“He is a familiar face,” she shrugs and pulls her dress over her head. “The Lord of the Castle likes him well enough.” 

You shift the cloak over your apron and strip off your outer layer, standing only in your shift. You mirror the maid across from you and slip beneath the thick blankets. A sigh escapes you as your muscles finally release the tension of the day. She is still on her back as you lay upon your side, staring at the low flicker of the brazier against the wall. 

Curiosity nips at your exhaustion. How does a servant come upon a room like this? Is it simply at your expense? For whatever reason Bryce has bid her to keep you close. Certainly, the old soldier is overly cautious. 

Your eyes close before you can think very much on the unexpected resting spot. The day has been turbulent and full of many surprises. You only dread those that await you on the morrow. 

⚔️

Ezme wakes you from a heavy slumber. You both dress in the morning hue, rinsing from a basin before you face another day. You leave the cloak on the assurance it will be waiting for you. A thought glimmers of what the king might think should it go missing. Would he blame you? 

You emerge and part from your nocturnal companion. You procede to the queen’s chambers to find them open and the corridor a titter. A pair of servants, themselves dozy, carry one of her chests through as her shrill cry careens through. You approach as the steadfast guard with the fiery hair watches you with narrow eyes.  

You peer within and find the Queen Jazlene digging through the contents, tossing fabrics without a care, in a desperate search. You are stunned to find her awake with the sunrise but not disheartened. It might be a good omen. 

"Where is it?" She throws her hands up and scowls as her eyes skim around, "you," she points in your direction, "where is my blue dress? The one with the silver lace? It must be here!" 

"Your highness, perhaps another chest," you step inside. 

"You did remember to pack it, didn't you?" She accuses as she stands, "I did bid it." 

"Yes, your highness," you affirm, though it was Merinda who would've taken the order. "Shall I go look in the luggage?" 

"Oh, yes, you shall," she struts toward you, "I will not be dressed as some northern wench for the banquet." 

Banquet? You withhold your curiosity and bow your head. You have a task and it is always better to tend to it without question. 

You spin and hurry from the room. You nearly collide with another servant, a tray in their hands. Another chore you needn't attend. You press on and find your way through the kitchens to the rear of the castle.  

The luggage remains mostly in the stables which entails a venture into the wintry without. You mourn the cloak upon the foot of the bed but it would be worse to flaunt the king's patch so heedlessly. You tuck your hands into your sleeves and put your chin down before you push through, the door resisting your strength as the wind blows against it. 

You stagger through and the heavy wood slams just as quickly as you clear its breadth. The gales are strong but the snow has relented. You see dark bodies speckled amid the white as powder dusts up in heaps. The servants work to clear away the thick piles and make pathways around the castle's yard. 

You cross to the stables and delve into the stink of horses and hay. The beast nicker and neigh as you pass as others doze without notice. You find the luggage, chests still upon carts as others litter the unswept floor. If you find the dress, it might just reek of horse. 

You recognise the crest of Debray upon a chest and the painted sides of a few others. You unstrap several lids and raise them, the cold nipping but sweat rising nonetheless. The longer you sift through the contents, the number your hands and fingers become, the clumsier you are. 

A patch of blue, so pale and shiny it's almost white, gleams from beneath the heaps of cloth. You yank upon it, bringing out several other gowns with the effort, and claim victory. You do not neglect to suss out a pair of slippers and a hair net you think might go with it. You set it aside and pack away the mess you've made, breathless from the expense. 

You hug your lot and curl around the next row of horses, searching out Daisy as she leans her head against Chestnut's dark neck. Their eyes widen at your approach and they huff almost in time. You pat their noses before you apologise that you must leave them. 

Once more, the violent gusts greet you in the open, sending a spiral of snow around you and dusting you with the chill. Your teeth chatter as the wind pushes you from behind and fill your skirts. You can hardly aim your steps as you end up against the castle wall, sidling along until you're at the door. 

Within, the cold follows and lingers in your bones. You flit through the kitchens, pots steam as the large ovens blaze and bodies cluster and clash. You barely avoid a collision as you pass into the corridor. As you step around one figure, another appears. 

“Aye, there the mouse is,” Bryce greets as he folds a leaf around his finger, readying it to pop in his mouth, “I see she’s got you at work already.” 

“Sir,” you stop before the soldier, “how was your night?” 

“Eh, dark,” he shrugs, “and you? The other maid saw to ya?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very good. If ye can, stay close to that one at the feast,” he girds, “she’s wise. She knows well how to bide the shadows.” 

You nod and hug the fabric, another shiver flowing through you. He tilts his head as he continues to play with the leaf between his fingers. 

“Don’t tell me you were outside without a cloak,” he accuses, “where’s yours, then?” 

“Sir, it was only for a moment--” 

“This cold does not soften for summer maids,” he tuts and shakes his head, “you will make yerself sick and who should have to deal with it, hm? Who should have to hear the king rant of it?” 

“Apologies, I was only in a rush,” you pout. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he steps closer and touches the dress in your arms, “in a rush for flimsy gown. These halls are too cold for satin.” 

“The queen bids it--” 

“Oh, I would expect,” he chortles. 

You purse your lips, slanting them one way then the next, as you recall your task. You watch him pinch the silk before he rescinds his reach. He puts the leaf in his mouth and chews. 

“You said feast and the queen said banquet? Is that this evening?” You wonder. 

“Certainly, is,” he sucks on the sweet leaves, “Lord Vesemir would celebrate our departure most fervently but as any good winter lord, he would not send his guests out in the cold without full bellies.” 

“Oh,” you utter thoughtfully. 

“And I suppose, it will appease the queen,” he adds, “for a time before she is once more miserable in the wildlands.” 

“And we are to leave on the morrow?” 

“Aye, by the nightfall,” he crosses his arms. “They must clear the pass and ready the horses and carts. It will be a labour but best we move on.” 

“I believe so too, sir,” you teethe your lip. 

“Aye, you are prudent, as ever,” he lowers his gaze to the floor, “mouse.” 

You shift on your soles and exhale solemnly, “I must...” 

“Yes, very well, go on to your queen,” he steps aside, “I must find our king. I suspect he might be hounding the lord of this castle, if not sparring with him.” 

There is a reluctance between you as you carry on your way; Bryce to one wing and you to the other, as if to mark the divide of king and queen. You come up the stairs and hurry along, the queen’s doors still ajar. Her voice carries still and servant scuttles out as a plate is hurled after them, crashing onto the floor as it narrowly avoids their foot. 

You slow and cautiously peek into the room. The queen shakes her head and pinches a morsel of brown meat on her plate, eyeing it with scrutiny. For a moment, her face twists, then she forces herself to shove it in her mouth. She chews as a battle rages across her features. 

Her gaze is drawn by your movement and she gulps down her mouthful. She stands, nearly overturning the stool upon which the tray rests. She brings her hands up as she storms over to snatch your armful. You back away as she lets the dress unfurl and you bend to gather up the slippers and hairnet as they fall. 

“Ah, wonderful, a proper attire for my first proper appearance as queen,” she beams and dances around with the dress, “oh, my hair, my hair. You must braid it for me.” 

She lays the gown on the bed and gives it a longing touch before she retreats. She clammers to the plain wooden table upon which she’s had a looking glass propped up. She leans forward as you stand behind her. Her hair remains in the braids she’s worn for some time, looking wilted and ratty from neglect. 

“Yes, your highness.” 

“I suppose the king feels horrid for his display yesterday,” she preens at herself. “He must realise he cannot keep a lady like me cooped up.” 

You think to mention that it is more send-off than anything. That is on Lord Vesemir’s whim, rather than King Geralt’s. At least that’s how you have it. Yet, you know well not to argue. Let Jazlene believe as she well and the world is always a bit more pleasant. 

You set to undoing her hair, gently as you notice how dry it is, whether from the cold or the air. She snaps her fingers and demands another servant bring her the tray off food. She picks at it as you unwind her hair and let it free. 

She looks at herself one way then the other. She smiles and wipes her mouth with her sleeve.  

“I am still pretty, aren’t I?” She asks, “I will be after the child comes, won’t I?” 

You swallow and nod, “yes, your highness.” 

“Gilles, Gilles,” she chimes and waves a hand, “come, come,” she turns in her seat and you pull away from her, not wanting to tug on her locks. “Tell me, how pretty am I?” 

The man steps into the doorway and clears his throat. He looks as sheepish as you’ve ever seen. You glance back at Jazlene as she poses and bats her lashes. 

“You are beautiful, my queen, as the summer sunsets,” he avows. 

There’s a click in your head, a wriggle in your chest, and a churning in your stomach. No. No, it can’t be. She wouldn’t betray her marriage. 

Yet you thought the very same of her husband. That’s different. The king rules all, even the queen. And that she so garishly flaunts her fleeting affections. But how can you judge, when your own folly looms over you like a cloud? 

You think of the king’s story; Cerrill and Wynifred and their forbidden romance. It tints in a different effect now, it aligns more evenly, for you do not see this ending well for either queen or guard should they stray. Just as you don’t see yourself faring any better. 

[dindjarindiaries]

Bear My Burdens

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompts: "I knew you'd feel guilty; You do understand that I'd take a thousand wounds if it meant keeping you safe, don't you?” “​​Why is it so difficult for you to believe that you deserve to be protected?” and “I’m going to protect you, now. Because that’s what we do for the ones we love. We keep them safe.”

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

Two knocks is all you’re able to offer before you slump against the side of the cabin’s entryway. The blood on your face has crusted over by now, but the bruises and aches have started to settle within your ribs and your limbs, making the simple task of standing too difficult. You’re surprised you made it to Nevarro in this shape, your ship on the opposite side of the cabin from the N-1.

You’ve fully sunken to the ground with your back resting against the cabin as the door slides open. Din stands in the threshold fully armored, both his blasters drawn as he looks around. His visor snaps in your direction, his helmet tilting as he tucks his blasters back into his belt. Din curses as he kneels down to pick you up.

“I’m sorry,” you apologize through gritted teeth, groaning as you get jostled against his armor. Your cheek presses against his pauldron as he takes you inside.

Din doesn’t say anything, instead focusing on getting you settled as he lays you down on the couch and disappears into the bedroom. Grogu emerges from his own room, his ears lowering at the sight of you as he coos.

“Hey, little guy,” you greet, trying your best to perk up as you give him a small wave. “I’m all right. Promise.”

Grogu tilts his head and snorts, catching your bluff just as effectively as his father always does. He starts to approach you, but Din’s quicker, emerging with his medpac and kneeling down next to your place on the couch. Din begins his work on you once he silently gains your consent to be touched, his gloves removed and his hands tending to the dry blood on your face. He still hasn’t spoken since his curse earlier, worsening the dark pit that festers inside your stomach.

You speak up when the silence starts to drive you mad. “Din,” you begin, your voice soft and wary. He doesn’t stop his work, and if you didn’t already know him so well, you would’ve assumed he wasn’t listening at all. “Are you upset with me?”

Din’s actions slow at that, his cuirass rising and falling in a visible deep breath. He offers his response in a single decisive and telling word. “No.”

That’s all you get. He returns to his usual speed, leaving you to raise an eyebrow at him. “I’m not gonna bother asking if you’re upset with the people who did this, then, because I know you are.”

Din huffs, though the sound isn’t amused. You watch him pull one of his hands into a fist when he exchanges one cloth for another.

You sigh before going on. “But you shouldn’t be upset with yourself.”

Din goes still at your words. His hands remain near your face, but his helmet looks away from you, his chin tucking closer to his cuirass as if he’s trying to hide himself from you. You give him time; It’s the least he deserves after you’ve returned in this condition. His voice is so low you almost miss it. “I could’ve stopped them.”

You tilt your head at him, propping yourself up as best as you can and instantly releasing a tight growl at the pain it causes. Din faces you to urge you back to where you were before. “I was the one who kept you from coming,” you remind him. “I wasn’t taking the chance of you getting hurt for something I did.”

Din doesn’t respond to that. He still doesn’t move, either, his visor instead considering the blood-stained rag that sits at his side. The tension in his armored shoulders tells you everything he doesn’t say.

“I knew you'd feel guilty.” You lift a hand to the side of his helmet, brushing your thumb over the ridge in the metal. “You do understand that I'd take a thousand wounds if it meant keeping you safe, don't you?”

Din’s visor meets your gaze, his hand rising to cover yours. “As would I.” He takes a grasp on your wrist, lowering it and watching as his thumb brushes over the skin there. He passes over the dark marking of Crimson Dawn you’ve never been able to escape from, despite their destruction at the hands of the Empire. Your debts need to be paid, and Din deserves better than to be the one who pays them.

“I know you would.” Din releases your wrist to continue his work, with Grogu now trying to help him by handing him various bacta remedies and bandages. “But I can’t let you.”

Din finishes with the cuts on your face and sighs, the sound as heavy as the burden upon his shoulders. He all but tosses the cloth in his hand aside and takes a tight grasp on his armored thighs, his visor watching them as he shakes his helmet. “No.”

You raise your brow at him again. “No?”

Din’s visor snaps up at you. “I’m not letting this happen again.”

You frown at his words. “Din…”

“​​Why is it so difficult for you to believe that you deserve to be protected?”

Your gaze can’t meet his visor any longer. Now you’re the one who’s avoiding him, your eyes darting all around the room. “It’s not your burden to bear.”

Din lifts a hand to the lip of his helmet, removing the beskar in one swift move. He sets it aside and takes your face between his hands, keeping his grasp gentle in light of your recent wounds. His brown eyes, dull in their concern, never once leave your gaze as he repeats the vow you both exchanged long ago. “Mhi me'dinui an.” We share all.

You try to come up with a rebuttal, but you can’t. Din is a man of honor, and trying to talk him out of upholding the vow he’d sworn to you is an impossible task.

“I’m going to protect you, now.” Din rests his forehead against your own. “Because that’s what we do for the ones we love. We keep them safe.”

You lift a hand to the side of his face, your thumb brushing over a scar he’d gotten once on your behalf as your vision starts to blur with sheer gratitude and affection. “I love you, too.” You repeat the first words you said to him when you first got back home. “I’m sorry.”

Din shakes his head, the corners of his lips pulling into a small smile as he leans even closer to you. “You did nothing wrong.” The gentle reassurance melts against your lips along with his own in a meaningful kiss that becomes the seal of his promise to uphold his word of protecting you, and your agreement to finally letting him.

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty two : it's you that i lie with

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 11.3k

summary : in the wake of the mandalorians rash decisions he and the princess must await judgement day.

warnings, etc. : language, angst, mentions of alcohol, more smut then a person could ever possibly need, p in v sex, din "consent king" djarin, vaginal fingering, oral f!recieving, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, hate sex (hate not included,) sex as a means to distract your spouse from being angry with you, thigh fucking, clit stim, L bombs all over, edging, accidental exhibitionism, i probably missed a few tags sorry!!

a/n : hey lovelies it's my bed time now! this chapter is super long and i'm sleepy so pls lmk if there's any big mistakes cause the edit on this took over an hour so i might have missed something <3

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. 

He’s too noticeable like this. He’ll need to stash it somewhere and wear clothes that will help him blend into crowds. 

And you can’t go with him. 

You know that. 

You won’t be able to keep up. You’d only slow him down, and of course, the target on his back increases tenfold if he has you with him. 

So he’ll have to go alone. 

He has plenty of credits but you can give him some of your jewelry to pawn for extra, just in case. 

Is Kodo smart enough to realize that this was an act of possession and not treason? If he is then your personal security will be increased to the point that Din shouldn’t come back for you. 

Fuck. 

Okay. That’s fine. You can live with that. 

As long as he’s safe. 

He sounds mad. 

You aren’t looking at him currently. Just staring at Kodo. limp on the ground, blood pooling from his nose onto the stones. 

You aren’t even saying anything why does it sound like he’s arguing with you? You finally turn around to look at him and Elaine is standing next to him, a hardened look on her face. 

You can’t focus on a word they’re saying. The ringing in your ears refuses to let up. 

They just keep arguing. 

It sounds like he’s trying to reason with her, desperately. 

You can’t focus on them because you’re too worried. Every part of you is worried. 

Kodo won’t just kill him for this. He’ll make an example out of him. Especially if he realizes Din’s motive. Just as you start to imagine all the different things they could do to him Elaine wraps her arms around your shoulders. 

“My lady, I know you’re in a bit of shock right now but we need to act and we need to act fast.” Her voice is urgent but it’s clear she’s still trying to be gentle. She turns around to glare at Din. “Go rinse the blood off your gloves, now.”

He silently makes his way to the fresher as Elaine pulls you away from your unconscious husband, letting you lean against the wall. 

“We need to get him off planet.” You whisper, finally meeting Elaine’s gaze. 

“I know, princess, I already tried. But he won’t go.” That manages to completely snap you out of your haze.

“What?”

“I told him he needed to leave. He won’t. Not without you, and we both know how unwise that would be.” She straightens your dress a bit, almost as if out of habit as you gawk at her. 

“Elaine, he has to go.” You’re still whispering. Unable to make yourself speak louder. 

Her eyes are full of pity. 

“I know he does, my lady, but he won’t. And we don’t have time to convince him otherwise.” She’s right. If he’s already set in his decision there’s no changing his mind and you need to act fast. “We have a different plan, princess. We don’t have a lot of options now so I need you to pull it together, okay?” She gives your shoulders a gentle squeeze as the Mandalorian returns. Gloves washed and dried. 

Clean. 

“You have to go.” You immediately step in front of him, as if by some act of the gods you can get him to see reason but all he does is shake his head no. 

“We don’t have time to argue about this. I’m staying. What do I need to do?” He stares at Elaine who’s scowling at him as she takes a step back, sighing.

“You need to stay out of my way while I figure this out. You’ve caused enough problems.” She looks beyond angry with him.

For good reason.

This has to be the stupidest thing he’s ever done. 

“Obviously, the safest bet would be for your Mandalorian to get as far away from here as possible.” She shoots him another glare. “Since he won’t, we need to go with the next safest bet. Which is going to rely on a whole lot of luck.”

Considering the fact that his life is on the line, you don’t love the idea of relying on chance. 

“Kodo’s been on a bender since you didn’t show up for dinner, he hasn’t been sober in days, so we need to hope- to pray, that he doesn’t remember this.”

But what if he does?

“We all know what’s going to happen if he does.” She immediately answers your worried thoughts but it doesn’t make you feel better in the slightest. “We just need to make up a story.”

Elaine seems to be trying to piece her plan together as she paces the hall, Din takes the opportunity to check on you, finally. His hands cup your face. 

“Are you okay?” He sounds like he knows the answer. 

No. You aren’t okay. 

You aren’t okay with what almost just happened and you aren’t okay with what happened instead.

But everything is bad right now. 

Very bad.

And you can’t break down. So instead you hug him. Briefly. Like you aren’t absolutely furious with him.

“I’m okay.” And for now you’re both okay with it being a lie. Your moment of comfort in his arms is short as Elaine pulls you away.

“I need you to tell me exactly what happened.” She’s stern with you. Like an adult talking to a child, normally you’d be offended but someone needed to take charge of the situation and you’re just glad it isn’t you. 

“We were on a walk, D- Mando and I. When we came back to my room Kodo was waiting for me.” She nods slowly as you speak, urging you to carry on. “He started rambling and then he grabbed my dress and then Mando…” You don’t need to finish your sentence, it’s clear what happened next. 

“Okay. I can work with that.” She says mostly to herself before looking you in the eyes once more. “I need you to do exactly as I say, can you do that?” You nod and she turns to Din, frowning before he nods as well. “Okay, here’s the thing princess, I don’t know if you know this, but you’re important.” 

Your confusion is certainly apparent on your face.

“The people in the city adore you. It’s the first time the citizens have so much as tolerated a Naboo royal in decades. And it’s not just the people that love you, it’s the staff here.” She takes your hands in hers, a comforting gesture as she continues to nod at you as if it helps convey her words better. 

“How can the staff love me? I don’t even know the staff?” You wonder out loud as she gives your hands a squeeze.

“Exactly, my lady, you have an endless supply of servants at your disposal and yet you remain independent. You only ask for help when you need it, you’re kind and you’re respectful. But most importantly, you look at us, you don’t stare right through us like we aren’t even here, you see us.” You’d never thought of it that way, you just didn’t want to bother anyone if you didn’t have to, you always just did what felt natural. 

“That’s very kind of you to say, but I don’t see how that helps us.” You tilt your head to the side as you try to decipher her words. 

“We are going to rely on that adoration, princess. What I am going to do is what the servants in this castle do best, I am going to gossip.” 

“What exactly are you going to tell them?” 

“The truth.” She grins at you like some sort of mastermind but you’re getting more and more concerned.

“You can’t, he’ll be tried for treason.” You glance towards Din who remains unmoving behind Elaine. 

“Except he won’t because we’re going to leave out certain details when we recount tonight's events. I am going to tell them that we were on a walk, and when you  returned Kodo tried to hurt you, in his drunken state he fell, and broke his nose on the floor.”

It’s ridiculous.

But she might just be a genius. It’s all true. You won’t have to remember any false details. 

“I still don’t understand why you have to spread the story around though, why don’t we just tell the guards that’s what happened?” Din finally speaks up.

“Because once people know, Kodo won’t be able to avoid it. He’ll realize people know, especially when people in the city get restless. At your next dinner with him, which you will be attending, you remind him of the fact that he can’t hurt you unless he wants a full on uprising in the streets.” She claps her hands together like it’s the perfect plan but there’s so many ways this could go wrong. “You don’t have to worry about your Mandalorian and you guarantee yourself future protection from your husband.”

She’s staring at you, waiting for a response but honestly you don’t even know where to start.

“I will go get guards, we’ll tell them the abridged version of what happened, once that’s done I’ll get to work on spreading the word.” 

“And then?” You stare at Elaine. Eyes wide with concern, you can’t seem to stop whispering, like you’ve lost your voice. 

“And then, we pray. We pray that when he wakes, he doesn’t remember what really happened. Because that’s the only way this works.” She’s looking around the hallway anxiously now. “We don’t have any time to argue on this.” She gives you one last glance and after a moment of thought you nod. She’s right, you don’t have time to come up with a better plan. She doesn’t waste another second and rushes off to alert a guard. 

Leaving you standing alone with Din. 

You want to scream at him. Shove him. Something. For doing this, how could he be so stupid?

But you can’t. 

Because if he hadn’t, Maker only knows what you’d be doing right now. 

So instead, you just stare at your shoes. Refusing to look at him. He knows exactly how you feel about his choices these last couple of minutes so he makes the smart choice to not push you. 

It isn’t long before Elaine is returning with half a dozen guards. 

You let Elaine do all the talking. Explaining that she took you on a walk when you couldn’t sleep. She’s a good actress. 

You play your part well as well, you don’t even have to act, you really are shaken up as you lean against the wall. Nodding to corroborate Elaine’s story. 

Din stands defensively next to you the entire time. As if the guards might find a hole in your story and seize you. 

But that never happens. 

The guards all give you sympathetic looks.

They all know Kodo. They know that this story is more than believable. A couple of the men carry him off towards the infirmary. Only one guard stays, you assume she’s of a higher station based on her medals, and her uniform being a different color.

“Would it help your nerves if we increased your security, princess? On behalf of the royal family we apologize for this freak accident.” Her voice is low, professional. 

Freak accident. 

She’s already doing damage control. 

Word can’t get out that the future king of Naboo frightened his beloved wife like this, this needs to be presented as something that couldn’t possibly happen, even though they all believed it was possible, without question.

“No thank you, I have my Mandalorian.” You’re still whispering. Unable to find the strength to speak up. “I will just have him stay close.”

She raises an eyebrow

“Are you sure?” She hesitates for a moment. “It isn’t my place to question you, your highness, but he was unable to stop this attack, how will he prevent further accidents?” 

Sure, you’re mad at Din but something about the way this woman questions his abilities to protect you makes you furious. At the end of the day, Kodo really had tried to hurt you, and Din had stopped it. 

“You’re right.” You find your voice, finally speaking above a whisper. “It isn’t your place.” You stare at the woman until she finally bows. 

“My apologies, your highness. I’m just stating a fact, you clearly weren’t protected enough. Extra guards may help.” She mumbles. 

You don’t care for this woman’s tone.

“What exactly was he supposed to do? Attack the future monarch? Commit an act of treason?” There’s a lot of anger in your tone considering that’s exactly what happened. 

But you’re mad at Din, and you can’t yell at him right now so you might as well direct it somewhere in defense of him. 

“No extra guards.” You say one more time, just to be clear. “Afterall, this was a freak accident, it isn’t likely to happen again.” 

She nods one last time before making a hasty exit, leaving you alone with Din and Elaine.

When you turn to face them they’re both staring at you, looking a little surprised, you decide to break the silence, looking at Elaine.

“Now what?” 

“Now we wait.” 

“How long?” 

“We’ll know if he remembers in four days.” She crosses her arms and you look between her and Din for answers but he seems as confused as you are. “You have dinner with him in four days. Which I cannot stress enough, you will be attending. If you aren’t swarmed by guards in the next few days, you know you’re in the clear.” She finally says once it’s clear you aren’t getting it. “Until then I want both of you to stay here.” She opens up the door to your chambers. 

“For four straight days?” You try not to sound too irritated but you’re wildly angry with him right now and the idea of being stuck in your room for four uninterrupted days (an idea that you would usually kill for the opportunity to have.) makes your stomach churn. 

“For four straight days.” She’s already pushing the two of you in. Clearly eager to be rid of this entire situation. “No if’s, ands, or buts. You need to stay here, “healing” from the stress of tonight's events. I will have servants bring you your meals, Lysa and I will not disturb your rest but you can ring us if you require anything.”

Din is staring at Elaine, you can see the tension in his posture. He knows that you’re livid. And he knows that now that everything’s settled you couldn’t be more unhappy with him. 

The last thing he wants right now is to be trapped in a room with you and your wrath. 

Elaine clocks his hesitancy immediately. 

“You need to stay, you insisted on staying, she needs someone with her, and she needs protection. Just in case. Isn't that the whole reason you refused to leave in the first place?” She begins shutting the door, both of you starting to protest. “Four days, we will know if he knows in four days.” She whisper-yells before closing the door. 

Now it’s just you and Din. 

For four days. 

You want to fight. You want to scream at him now that you’re alone. How could he be so stupid? To not only hit Kodo, but to refuse to leave?

But you’re so tired. And afraid. You can be angry at him later.

Unless there isn’t a later.

No.

No thinking like that. 

Distract yourself.

“Let me see your hand.” You take his hand in yours with no resistance, removing his glove to inspect his knuckle. He knows better than to argue with you right now, especially since you haven’t blown up on him yet. 

He’s split two of his knuckles but he isn't actively bleeding anymore, you still need to clean it. You walk him to the bed, ushering him to sit down. Once he does, you go to the dresser, you grab a couple nightgowns, and the pitcher of water on the vanity before returning to him. 

He makes no attempt to protest as you dip one of the gowns into the pitcher before wiping the blood from his knuckles. 

He doesn’t protest when you tear the other gown with your teeth and wrap his hand. Or when you turn around, silently asking him to undo your dress, which he does as you slip out of it, standing there in your undergarments. 

He doesn’t fight you when you take his uninjured hand and walk him to the closet. 

He doesn’t when you carefully remove each piece of armor. Turning the lamp off and removing his helmet.  

Or when you say “We’ll talk in the morning.” and rest your head on his chest. 

“What if tonight is our last night?” He whispers into the darkness of the closet. 

You don’t want to think about that right now.

You’ll have tomorrow. 

Hopefully.

“It isn’t.” Is all you have to say. He still doesn’t argue. 

You fall asleep like that.

★

Day one isn’t going to be easy. 

You both know it. 

It’s fine as you both wake up, mostly because neither one of you speaks. 

He knows what’s coming. You can tell by the way his shoulders never relax, that he knows at some point today you’re going to snap. So he doesn’t speak, not wanting to accidentally cause your inevitable explosion.

And you don’t speak either, mostly because you know that when you do you’re going to get rather upset. So you just lay there. Every so often you feel him place a kiss on your temple. 

You wait as long as possible, until you hear a faint knocking from the main door and you know it's either Kodo, here to sentence your Mandalorian to death, or it’s breakfast.

Thankfully when you answer the door it’s breakfast. 

An older woman you don’t recognize hands you two plates of eggs, bread, and fruit. You give her a smile and a thanks. 

She gives you a curious look, like she’s trying to gauge your mood. Elaine must have already started spreading her rumors. You leave her with a nod of dismissal, locking the door once more. 

You carefully bring the plates to the closet, handing one to Din, still not saying a word as you turn to face away from him, flipping the light switch back on.

The two of you eat in silence. 

Once the helmet is back on you take the plates out to the main room, opening the door to leave them in the hall. 

When you turn around he’s standing in the closet doorway and you know you can’t put this off any longer.

“You can still leave.” When the words finally leave your lips they’re significantly less angry than you thought they’d be.

“You know I can’t.” Once he says that though you manage to find your anger relatively fast.

“You can and you know it.”

He doesn’t respond. He just stands, staring at you. 

“You have to go. It’s stupid to stay, if he remembers when he wakes up you need to be gone.”

“And if he doesn’t remember? Then you’d be here, unprotected, and alone.” There’s no heat behind his voice. He isn’t fighting, he’s just stating a fact. 

It doesn’t change your mind. 

“That doesn’t matter, no when there’s a chance that he does remember.” You take an angry step towards him but he doesn’t so much as flinch. 

“No.” Clearly you aren’t changing his mind either. 

You want to throw something at him. 

“You can’t stay here. You know what happens if you stay here. You need to leave, you can always come back for me.” You leave out the fact that that would be extremely difficult to do. “You need to go, hop on a ship and get out of here.” You’re getting angrier and angrier as you stare into the unforgiving steel of his helmet.

“I’m not leaving you.” There’s still no fight, he’s simply stating the truth.

“You are, you will. You need to. I will not just sit here and wait for you to be taken and slaughtered.” Your voice cracks on the last word, you’re starting to get to the level of anger where you’re at risk of crying, you’re desperately trying to keep yourself in control of your emotions as he holds his arms open for you.

It doesn’t matter if you’re in a rage, you can’t help yourself. 

You step into his embrace, still visibly fuming.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles, lifting you up, his hands rest on your ass to support you and you have to wrap your legs around his waist to keep your balance, he walks you into the closet.

“But you’re not, Din, and that’s the problem.” You aren’t done, you’ve barely gotten started but he seems to have found a rather effective way of dissolving your anger as he kicks the closet door shut with his foot. 

“I’m sorry that I’m not sorry then.” He sets you down into the blankets and wastes no time flicking the lamp off. You don’t even hear the airlock, his mouth is just immediately on you, silencing any further protest you might have with his lips. “Just let me know when you want to stop so we can start fighting again.” He whispers against your bottom lip before his mouth quickly moves downward, leaving a trail of bites and kisses, his finger unbuttoning the front of your nightie as he does so.

“This- this isn’t fair, I’ve barely started.” You gasp as his mouth latches onto your nipple, he pulls away just long enough to respond.

“Then tell me to stop.” 

You don’t. 

Afterall you’re only human, and he’s being very persuasive right now. 

You’ll yell at him after.

Except there isn’t an after. 

He’s dangerously attentive for the next several hours. 

It’s like he’s been waiting to unleash this level of his undivided attention onto you, like he knew to save it for when you got truly angry with him. 

His fingers dip past the band of your underwear, dipping into your cunt just enough to make his fingertips slick as he drags them back up to your clit. Rubbing slow, methodic shapes into your bundle of nerves. 

He keeps his mouth on your chest for the most part. 

Except for when you get restless. Every so often you’ll remember your objective. Or you’ll feel a flicker of your rage spark up and you’ll mumble something angry at him halfheartedly, usually with your head tilted back, and your hands tangled in either the sheets or his hair. When that happens his mouth drifts down, he throws your legs over his shoulders and he wraps his lips around your clit until you forget all about whatever it was you were saying. 

He manages to keep you distracted until there’s another knock at the door that tells you it’s already lunch time. 

You struggle to button yourself back up as he fumbles for the lamp. 

You glare at him once the lights, and his helmet are back on. 

He quickly buttons your gown back up for you. He never even took his armor off. 

You rush to the door, greeting a woman younger than the one from before. Her eyes immediately dart to your expression.

Elaine was right, gossip does move fast here.

It’s a good thing you still look pissed off, and upset mostly with yourself for being so easily seduced. You can tell she takes note of your frown.  

She hands you two wrapped sandwiches and a pitcher of juice before scurrying off. You yell a half hearted thank you after her before locking up once more. 

When you return to Din you’re still frowning, tossing him the sandwich, turning around, and eating in silence. When you’re finished he takes your wrapper and stands, walking into the main room to discard them. 

When you join him he hands you a glass of juice. Nodding, you take it from him, gulping most of it down before setting the glass aside. 

“You know what?” It isn’t hard to find that fire in you immediately when you think about how truly stupid he’s still being right now. 

“What?” You close your eyes as he lifts his helmet to drink, opening them when you hear the airlock, poking a finger into his chest. 

“You should have left when Elaine told you to, and we shouldn’t even be having this argument because you should be somewhere far far away right now.” 

“This isn’t really an argument, it’s mostly just you yelling and me nodding.” 

Smartass. 

“You just made this an argument by contradicting me.” You’re starting to sound petulant but you really are still upset as you shove him, unable to bring yourself to put much effort into it but he takes a deliberate step back and you cry out in frustration. “You’re an idiot. You are a stupid, stupid man.”

It’s starting to bother you that he won’t fight back. Like he knows you’re right, he just doesn’t care.

You shove him again. This time he doesn’t move in the slightest. 

“You never should have hit him in the first place Din! Are you insane? Do you have a death wish?” You’re nearly screaming at this point.

Yet he says nothing.

So you keep going.

“You say that you have to stay here to protect me, but why didn’t you think about that before you knocked my husband flat on his ass?” That finally gets a reaction from him. His helmet tilts the tiniest bit to the side, almost like he’s flexing his jaw.

“Don’t call him that.” He sounds mad for the first time today.. 

“What? My husband? I’m sorry Din but that’s what he is, it’s nothing more than a title, you know th-“

“No. Don’t call him yours. He isn’t yours, he isn’t your anything, For Makers sake just call him Kodo.” He’s practically snarling as he says it but it only feeds your flames.

“That’s what you’re upset about? Really? Your life's on the line here, and that’s what makes you upset?” You’re close enough to him now that you can see your own rage being reflected back at you on his helmet. 

“If you're so convinced that these are my last hours alive then why are we spending them fighting?” He’s already getting less angry. 

“Because they don’t have to be your last hours!” You’re getting more frustrated by the second, your voice getting higher and higher. “You could leave like anyone with a brain in this situation would.” 

“I’m not leaving you.” 

That’s all he has to say for himself. 

He doesn’t care. 

“Fine.” Your scowl never falters.

“Fine?” He sounds shocked that you’re already giving up.

“Fine.” You shoot him a furious look before you grab the front of his cowl and drag him back into the closet, slamming the door shut behind the both of you because you are sick and tired of him not caring that his life is in extreme danger and if he’s not going to argue with you then he might as well fuck you. 

“Why can’t you just be angry?” You yell as you start unbuttoning your nightgown all over again while he begins removing his armor. 

“Because you’re right.” He mumbles, struggling to keep up with your speed as you let the nightie fall to the floor, leaving you in only your panties. 

“You’re insufferable.” You snarl, laying down in the blankets, watching him toss his cowl aside.

“And you’re insatiable.” He slides the last of his armor off before kneeling in front of you in just his flight suit and helmet. “How many times did I make you cum today before noon? And you still want more.” He doesn’t even sound like he’s trying to get a rise out of you, he sounds like he did when he said he was going to stay, like he was just stating a fact. 

“I don’t want to look at you right now. I’m still mad at you.” You grumble, he wastes no time wrapping his arms around your torso, flipping you onto your stomach.

“This better?” He sounds unbothered. It makes you angrier that he refuses to justify his actions beyond simply wanting to stay.  

“Perfect.” You mumble. 

“You’re being a brat.” 

“And you’re being an idiot.” 

“I thought we weren’t going to fight, why did you bring us in here to just fight more?” He tugs down your panties with one hand, you turn to see him palming himself with the other. 

“Let’s just- let's not talk.” You grumble sitting up on your knees, his hand slides up your spine to the nape of your neck, pushing your face into a pillow while simultaneously forcing your ass into the air.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” You hear the release of his helmet and a thunk of metal as he tosses it aside.

He doesn’t bother turning the lamp off.

You hear the familiar sound of his zipper, he doesn’t waste any time as you feel the head of his cock push into you. You bite into the pillow swallowing your moan. 

Are you still mad?

Yes. Very much so.

Is this better than fighting? 

Yes. (Very much so.)

He leans down, groaning as his chest is flush with your back, his length sinking deeper into your heat. 

“Reach back and push me away if you want me to stop.” He brushes your hair behind your ear as he says it, you only nod in response as he leans back again, rocking his hips forward until his pelvis is flush with your ass. 

He’s never fucked you from this angle.

Your slightly lower than he is, it’s like he’s fucking down into you, deeper than he has previously.

He takes a second to let you breath before he snaps his hips back, dragging his cock nearly completely out of you before slamming himself back in entirely. 

You yelp as he presses up against your cervix. 

He waits again, like he’s waiting to see if you’re okay but you make no effort to stop him so after another second he repeats the motion, letting out a low groan as he does.

He squeezes your hips almost reassuringly as he starts to find his rhythm. Feeling him sink into you, every thrust almost painfully deep.

It’s nice.

Of course you won’t tell him that, not now when you’re still seething.

But it’s like he’s doing it on purpose. Like he’s trying to prove a point. That no matter how mad you are, he can still unravel you, with ease.

His hands slide up your back, he takes hold of your shoulders, experimentally using his grip to leverage you back against him in time with his thrusts. 

It’s (tragically) divine. 

You pull your face from the pillow, turning your head to the side. 

“When- kriff, when you’re done we’re finishing our, ah, our conversation.” You manage to stutter out, his pace never so much as skipping a beat.

“I thought… we were… done… with that.” He says through grit teeth in between thrusts, pulling you back against him with every movement forcing himself deeper into you than you even thought possible.

“We aren’t.” 

He only grunts in acknowledgement as you feel him lean down to place a kiss against your spine. 

You shouldn’t have told him that once he finished you were going to fight again because he doesn't stop until they knock for dinner.

The bastard actually manages to last the entire time, everytime you think he’s finally going to lose his resolve he buries himself in you, unmoving, letting his hands roam your body aimlessly until he’s able to continue. When he hears the knocking his pace quickens the tiniest bit and that’s all he needs to tumble over the edge. Pulling out and finishing on your lower back. 

You’d be more upset if you weren’t so impressed. 

You make yourself as presentable as possible before rushing to the door for what is hopefully the last time today.

It’s the same routine.

Greet them, they stare at you, you take the food, they leave. 

Once you’re locked up for the night you hand him his bowl of stew. 

It continues to be the same routine. Eating in silence as he waits for the inevitable. 

Except it doesn’t come.

You finish eating, turning around once he’s done as well. He takes the bowls, setting them aside. 

And you open your mouth to yell at him. But all that comes out is a yawn, once he sees that he scoops you up into his arms, already carrying you back to the closet. You let your head rest on his shoulder.

“I’m still mad.” You mumble. 

“You should be.” He says it so quietly the modulator doesn’t even pick it up, you hear the words muffled and unfiltered through his helmet. 

You don’t like that he’s seemingly mad at himself. He doesn’t get to do that, no one gets to be mad at him right now but you. 

He lays you down in the sheets, kneeling next to you he removes his helmet as you close your eyes he turns the lights out, laying down beside you. 

“No more sex. I’m too tired.” All you’ve done today is yell, have sex and eat, the combination has you dozing off already. You roll over so you’re partially on top of him as you rest the side of your face on his chest which you feel shake a bit as he lets out a single laugh.

“Okay, sarad.” 

How did you lose an entire day to him? You had wanted to scream and throw things. To show him and to tell him that what he was doing wasn’t okay. Instead he’d spent the entire day distracting you and it worked. 

You take in the silence of the room, listening only to his breathing for a moment. 

He’s okay. You suppose that’s what matters. He’s still here, and maybe for right now that’s okay. You clearly aren’t going to get anywhere as far as yelling at him goes because he agrees with you. He just doesn’t care. And for the time being you’re just going to have to live with that.

“I don’t want you to go to sleep angry.” He says into the darkness of the room, startling you a little. 

“Why does that matter?” You wish you could sound more stern but you’re tired, and clearly he is too.

“If this is our last night I don’t want you to be upset with me.” 

Oh, Din.

“It isn’t. So it doesn’t matter.” You try to say it with a finality that will hopefully end the conversation.

“It might be.”

“Good night Din.”

★

The start of your second day is considerably different than your first day. 

You feel a little less stressed now that a day has passed with no word but he seems to be getting more nervous. And you feel less cross today. It’s hard to stay angry when you wake up in his arms. He’s spooning you when you wake, and how can you be mad at that?

“I love you, I’m sorry, I just- I don’t want you to be mad at me anymore.” He murmurs into your hair before leaning down to kiss your neck. It takes you by surprise, you're still waking up but he already seems shockingly coherent. 

He says it like he’s worried it’s the last conversation you’ll ever have with him.

It makes your anger fizzle out, replaced with sympathy for him.

“Then I’m not mad anymore.” He breathes out a sigh of relief when you say it, his arms tighten around you. 

If this really is your last day with him you don’t want to spend it mad. 

You wish you hadn’t spent yesterday mad at him in hindsight, you have no way of knowing if this is the end or not. 

“I love you.” He whispers into the crook of your neck, he kisses your throat. “I love you.” He keeps breathing those words against your skin between kisses as you arch your back against him in an attempt to get more.

You don’t say it back. 

Your love for each other is what got you into this stupid mess to begin with. 

That doesn’t stop him though. 

He repeats it, over and over and over, slowly and sleepily. Like a prayer. 

“Let’s just do this today, okay? No fighting.” He’s got one hand resting on your stomach, the other gently cups your breast. He shifts himself so he can slide his leg between yours. 

Can’t argue with that. 

“We did this yesterday.” You breathe out, it feels good to smile.

“Yes, but you were angry, today there will be no fighting.” He bites your neck lightly enough that there won’t be a mark but hard enough to earn a small squeak from you. 

“No fighting.” You echo his words as he pulls you flush against him. 

When it’s dark like this it feels like he’s the only thing in the universe. The only thing keeping you grounded. 

The hand on your stomach moves downwards and you feel his hot breath on your neck.

“Please?” he mumbles before nipping at your shoulder.

“Of course.” The moment he has your permission he guides his hand to your center, lifting your thigh and sliding his cock up against your folds in one fluid motion. Once he’s situated he brings his hand up to your mouth, two fingers tapping on your bottom lip as you instinctually open your mouth for him he rocks his hips forwards with a grunt, you feel him sliding through your folds as his fingers swipe across your tongue. 

He hums softly, his lips stay on your shoulder, alternating between sucking and biting as he slow fucks the space between your thighs. 

Once he’s satisfied with the wetness of his fingers he withdrawals them from your mouth, bringing them back between your legs. 

“I’m sorry, sarad, for everything.” He says under his breath. 

“No more apologizing.” You lean back to whisper it in his ear.

“What?” He sounds a little lost in his actions.

“I know you’re sorry. I don’t want to hear it anymore. No more apologizing.”

“No more apologizing.” This time he echos you. He slowly and carefully starts rubbing his slick fingers against your clit while simultaneously sliding himself in and out of the space between your thighs. You experimentally squeeze your thighs together around his cock and he immediately bites down on your shoulder, stifling a moan. 

It’s so wildly intimate, an unspoken agreement that you both suddenly have to try and make the other person feel as good as possible.

He ruts between your soaked thighs, when he draws back you press your thighs together slightly to tighten around him. His free hand cups your breast again, leisurely pinching your nipple as the one between your legs manages to do exactly what it needs to do.

He knows you so well at this point it’s actually a little jarring when he’s able to drive you towards that release so quickly. 

“Cum with me?” He mumbles through his labored breaths as you nod frantically. 

He keeps you on the edge for a few more minutes as he rocks his hips back and forth until both his thrusts and his fingers move faster, you let your head fall back against his shoulder as you feel the wire snap within you, he turns his face to press his forehead into your temple as he snarls, you feel the spurt of warmth between your thighs as he cums. 

You both lay there briefly, gasping for air, just as you finally get your bearings you hear a knock.

“Shit.” You mumble, wiping yourself off on the sheets and readjusting your nightgown as you sit up. 

You stumble to your feet, rushing to the door to get what you assume is breakfast, you’re surprised to see Elaine standing there holding a basket of bread, rushing into the room before you can even greet her. 

“Good news and bad news.” She immediately hands you the basket and you set it down. Din steps out of the closet, already fully dressed, a sharp juxtaposition to how you must look, disheveled in your nightie you haven’t changed in several days. 

“Good news first.” You say quickly.

“Good news is that word has spread as quickly as I anticipated. From what I can tell, the people in the city are already aware of what happened.”

“That fast?” You’re in disbelief at the idea that people already know. 

“I told you it would.” She’s grinning ear to ear, clearly proud of herself. 

“What’s the bad news?” Din Djarin, well known optimist, finally speaks up.

“Kodo’s awake as of an hour ago.” Her grin is gone in an instant.

As far as bad news goes, that's about as bad as it gets. 

Neither you, nor Din speaks. 

So Elaine does.

“I haven’t heard anything yet but if he remembered we wouldn’t be standing here right now.”

“Or he’s waiting.” Still being optimistic, aren’t you, Din?

“He wouldn’t wait, he doesn’t have the patience.” You look to Elaine for confirmation and she nods, relief washes over you.

“Or he wants to make a spectacle out of it.” You’re getting sick of his attitude towards this already.

“No fighting today.” You snap at him and he immediately goes quiet so you turn back to Elaine. “Is that all?”

“Yes, I’ll let you know if I hear anything else.” She begins to make a hasty exit but you call her name again.

“Wait, could you please draw me a bath?” That seems like the logical next step considering you probably reek of sex at this point. 

“Of course, my lady.” She closes the door behind her and you turn to Din.

“No fighting, we agreed.” You say one more time, to be sure he knows you’re serious about this. 

He nods and you leave him standing there, going to the dresser to find a robe.

★

“I’ll be standing outside to make sure no one disturbs you, princess.” Elaine raises her eyebrows as she says it, closing the door behind you as you turn to stare at the Mandalorian across from you in the fresher.

If you and Din aren’t imprisoned in the next couple of days you’re going to make sure Elaine gets a pay raise. 

You slip your robe off as Din slides a table in front of the door for extra security, and you step into the warmth of the water, staring up at him as he walks over to the pool.

“I had a dream like this once.” He says as he carefully takes his armor off. 

That’s the last thing you could have imagined him saying right now. You chew on your lip, giddy as you fight the smile threatening to spread across your face.

“Do you have a lot of dreams about me?” You hold back your laughter as he takes the last piece of metal that isn’t his helmet off. Fascinated as he starts to tug at his flight suit.

You’ve never actually seen him like this. 

Sure you’ve seen his hands, and his cock, but never as much bare skin as he’s about to reveal. He peels the fabric away from his body as he steps out of it.

Maybe yesterday was your last day. 

You aren’t totally convinced that you didn’t die yesterday and are currently in heaven. 

He steps into water, only in his helmet and you try not to gawk but it’s hard because he’s just so… pretty. 

You finally tear your eyes away when you see a tint of red flare up around his neck.

He’s embarrassed. 

He shouldn’t be.

He’s an adonis. 

Tan skin littered with little pink and white marks.

You want to kiss every single one. 

He makes his way across the water, sitting on one of the ledges so everything below his chest is submerged. You try not to make your way over to him too eagerly but you can’t help yourself as you hastily pull yourself into his lap. 

“Aren’t you worried about rust?” You tilt your head to the side, laughing a little. 

“Beskar doesn’t rust but you’re very cute.” His hands squeeze your thighs under the water. 

“Ha ha.” You roll your eyes and lean forward to rest your head on his shoulder. “You didn’t answer my question by the way, about your dreams.” 

His hands slide under your thighs, dragging you closer to him.

“What do you want to know about my dreams?” 

“I want you to tell me about your dream that reminded you of this.” You run your pinky across a small pink crescent shaped scar on his chest. 

“That might take a while, why don’t I just show you.” You can practically hear his grin.

For a brief moment you’re almost able to forget the situation you’re currently in. 

Almost. 

★

“You knew I was out there, you could have at least tried to be quiet.” Elaine grumbles as you open the door.

Whoops. 

“Sorry.” You both mutter in sync, your face is getting hot as you give her an apologetic grin.

She’s definitely getting a raise. 

“I’ll get over it.” She walks you back to your chambers holding the door open for the both of you. “Someone will bring you lunch and dinner later, I’ll see you both soon.” 

“Thank you.” You call out after her as she’s inching her way out of the room.

“You're welcome.” She shoots you one last smile before stepping out completely. 

Once the door is closed behind you you rush over to it, clicking the locks before dropping the robe, when you turn around he’s already setting his armor aside. 

You leave him to that briefly as you walk yourself to the closet, returning to him with a scarf, all of his armor aside from his helmet is already off, he’s currently unzipping his flight suit. 

You do exactly what you said you would.

No fighting. No apologies. 

He helps you tie the scarf around your eyes and from that point on it’s a hazy, lascivious daydream. You’d be understating it if you said he fucked you on every surface in your room. It’s a desperate love that he makes to you now, and you know better than anyone that it’s his fear creeping back up, that this time will be the last time. 

Floor, bed, wall, table, dresser. If it is a flat surface, at some point during the day he presses you up against it, alternating between burying his tongue and his cock in your weeping cunt. 

You’re so fucked out of your mind that when they knock for meals you just ignore it. Biting down on a pillow or his shoulder to silence the noises he forces out of you. 

You don’t really remember when he brought you back to the closet. It’s been such a whirlwind. 

You do remember him kissing you. And saying he loved you before you fell asleep.

You try to forget when he whispered a prayer that he would have more days with you. 

★

And you make it to day three. 

Every hour there isn’t a battalion of guards outside your door makes you relax more and more. 

Din seems to be the exact opposite of you based on the first thing he says when you wake. 

“I want you to look today.”

“At what?”

“You know what.”

Oh. 

You sit up. Staring at where he would be in the darkness. 

“I’m not doing that.”

“Why?”

“Because this isn’t our last day, and you need to stop acting like it is.” 

If Kodo remembered he wouldn’t wait, he isn’t a patient man. You don’t want to spend today worrying, and you don’t want him to either. 

So today you’ll talk. You’ll talk until he forgets all about it. 

You lay back down, pulling his head into the crook of your neck.

“Tell me a secret.” 

“What kind of secret?” He laughs a little. Good. You don’t want today to be sad.

“Something nobody knows about you.”

“I don’t have secrets from you. I tell you everything.” 

That’s actually quite sweet. 

“That’s just not true. You keep tons of secrets.” You scoff.

“Not anymore. If you asked me anything, I’d tell you.” He says it earnestly.

That can’t possibly be true. 

“There’s plenty of stuff you don’t tell me.” You twist a lock of his hair gently between your fingers.

“You never ask.”

This entire time you’d been trying not to push him, he’d just assumed you didn’t care. 

“Are you okay with me asking?” You never meant to make him feel neglected.

“I’d love if you asked.”

You don’t even know where to start. You want to know everything. 

So you start at the beginning. 

“Do you have any family?”

“I lost my mother and my father when I was very young.” He draws small distinct stars into your skin with his fingers as he talks. “I was taken in by the Mandalorians as a foundling.” He sounds detached as he says it, like he came to terms with it a long time ago, so you don’t linger on his tragedy, opting to point out a phrase you’re unfamiliar with instead.

“A foundling?”

“It means they raised me as their own, taught me the creed.” 

You picture a little Din Djarin running around with a dozen adoptive parents. 

“They all did?”

He laughs, giving your side a small pinch. 

“No, typically the Mandalorian who finds an abandoned child will claim them but the Mandalorian who found me already had two foundlings.” 

“That’s terrible, what did they do with you?” You feel yourself being pulled into his story, like he’s telling you a tale you don’t know the ending to. As if he isn’t here right now, a full fledged Mandalorian who things clearly worked out for. 

“There was a Mandalorian at the covert who had never had a foundling. She made their armor for them so she didn’t leave as often as the rest. She took me in.” 

“So she became your mother?”

“More like a big sister, she’s only a few years older than I am.”

“Did she make your armor?”

“She did, yes.”

You sit in silence briefly, taking in his story, something he said a while ago resurfaces in your mind. 

You had asked him about his boy's mother. 

“I don’t know, I don’t know who his father is either. Is that all you wanted to ask?” 

You sit up a little, pulling him closer. 

“Your boy is your foundling.” You don’t say it like a question, you’re sure of it. 

“Was, my foundling.” 

Your natural instinct is to not pry, but he wants you to ask, and you feel an anxious curiosity as he uses past tense to refer to his child. 

“Din, you don’t have to talk about it, but if you’re okay with it I’d love to know more about him.”

He doesn’t respond and you’re glad you gave him the option to opt out. 

“I haven’t talked about him since I lost him.” You lean down a little to kiss his forehead, he sounds so small, the smallest he’s ever sounded.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to.” You feel him curl his legs up a bit, tangling them between yours as he sighs. 

“Then I’ll listen.” 

“His name’s Grogu.” You let out a silent sigh of relief as he uses present tense to refer to the boy. 

“That’s a funny name.”

“He’s a funny kid.” There’s an adoration in his voice that he typically reserves just for you. It makes you long to meet this child that softens your Mandalorians demeanor. “He was only a baby when I found him, I knew right then and there that he was mine.”

“What’s he like?” You feel the corners of his mouth twitch up when you ask that. 

“Happy. He’s always happy, and smart, he’s so smart, just like you, too smart for his own good.” He absentmindedly brings his fingers up to play with your hair. “He’s a lot like you actually. Happy, smart, brave, funny.” He tugs your hair softly, teasingly. “You both love to irritate me.”

“Very funny.”

“I’m serious, you're very similar, I’d say you could be his mother but you look nothing alike.” He laughs at a joke you don’t seem to get. 

There’s one question you haven’t asked, the one you’ve been avoiding.

“What happened to him?”

“I let him go, to be with his people.” You have no idea what he means by that. 

“Sounds to me like you’re his people.” 

“I’m starting to believe that, the longer I spend away from him the more I wonder if I made the right choice.” He traces his fingers down the curve of your jaw.

“Why don’t you visit him?” 

He goes silent, bringing his hand back down to your waist, you feel his fingers tapping against your skin softly, almost like a nervous tick. 

“It’s a stupid reason.” He whispers. 

You run your hand across the length of his shoulder in a soothing manner. 

“Tell me.”

“I’m worried he’s  happy there. Happier than he was with me.”

Oh. Din.

You wish there was a way to tell him that he’s worthy of love. He just doesn’t seem to believe it’s possible.

Well, there is one obvious way to.

“I don’t think that’ll happen. And if he is happy there it just means you did your job. You took care of him.” Once you say that you feel a weight lifted off of your torso as he sits up. 

For a moment nothing happens. 

In the darkness you aren’t even sure where he is, at least until his hands cradle your face ever so gently.

“You’re perfect.”

He’s perfect. 

“I love you.” It slips past your lips in a soft whisper before you can stop yourself. 

“Hmm?” He hums gently. Leaning forward to give you a chaste kiss before pulling back. “What did you say?”

“Very funny. I’m not saying it again.” 

“I’m serious. I didn’t hear you.”

Strange.

He isn’t lying. You can tell.

And this isn’t the first time this has happened. 

“You can’t hear well can you?” You reach up to put a hand on his face, you can feel his mouth turned up in a grin. 

“Smart girl.” He turns his head to kiss your palm.

You won’t repeat yourself. You’ll save it for another time.

“How long?”

“Decades. One of my first bounties. I was listening in from a distance, had the audio on my helmet all the way up, I didn’t realize one of his friends was flanking me until the grenade landed at my feet.”

“Maker.” You gasp. 

“It isn’t really a big deal, I can hear perfectly fine with my helmet and the only person I ever talk to without my helmet on is you.”

Fair point. 

“Aren’t you worried it might happen again?”

“No, I have sensors now that will silence any sound that might be damaging. My turn to ask a question.” He stays sitting across from you, your legs still tangled together as he quickly changes the subject.. “I’ve been dying to ask, why do you sleep in the closet?” 

There’s no hesitation in your answer.

“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.” You’re giggling along with him now, it’s the hardest you’ve ever heard him laugh.

And that’s how you spend the third day.

Laughing and talking. 

And when you go to sleep that night, he doesn’t bring up the fact that it could be your last night together. 

But you know you’re both thinking it.

★

Today there is nothing. 

You can’t comfort him anymore because last night very well could have been your last night together. If Kodo knows, you won’t spend tonight with Din.

You won’t ever spend another night with Din.

There’s no way he knows though. (Unless he does.)

You both seem to realize that, in the comfortable silence you find yourselves in. He’s awake as well but neither of you speaks. 

Today you don’t fight, or fuck, or talk. Today you just exist together. He lays with his head on your chest and you absentmindedly play with his hair.

You both ignore the knocking.

If it's guards, they’ll come in anyways, if it’s breakfast, they’ll leave it outside the door. Based on the lack of guards over the course of the next few minutes, you discern that it’s breakfast. You do the same when they knock for lunch. 

You don’t get up until his stomach grumbles. You rush out quickly before returning to find him in the same position in the darkness as you crawl to him, handing him his plate. You rest your head on his shoulder, listening to him eat and opening your mouth when he offers you some. 

And you don’t speak. 

You don’t say a word. 

A few hours before dinner the girls come to dress you, you bring a blue dress out of the closet when they arrive. 

You’re pretty sure Lysa is aware of the entire situation you find yourself in as she avoids the closet like the plague. Dressing you faster than ever before, in complete silence. When they’re done Lysa rushes out, Elaine lingering as she gives your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. 

“You can do this. After tonight, you’re in the clear.” As she speaks you put your hand over hers, nodding and smiling at her in the reflection of the mirror. 

You can do this. 

She gives your shoulder one last pat before darting out of the room. Once she’s gone, like clockwork, Din steps into the main room. He quickly makes his way over to you, pulling you into an embrace.

And still neither of you says so much as a word. 

He walks next to you as you make your way to the dining room, letting the back of his hand brush against yours. 

When you approach the doors, as usual the hall is devoid of guards, he faces you.

“I love you.” 

You only nod in response, standing on your tiptoes you lean up and press a kiss into the steel cheek of his helmet before opening the doors to the dining hall. 

He’s waiting for you. He doesn’t usually look when you walk in but tonight he does. 

“Wife, I’m honored that you’re joining me tonight.” You never thought you’d miss the high pitched, nasally way he called out to you until you heard him speaking in a soft and grave tone. 

“Good evening, husband.” You bow before you sit, your Mandalorian standing no more than a foot behind you the entire time. 

It’s a deadly quiet dinner. 

That can’t possibly be a good sign, Kodo loves the sound of his own voice and you’re rarely in a room with him where you don’t hear it. Especially not a room this quiet. 

It’s nothing but the sounds of scraping forks against plates and glasses being set down. 

You aren’t entirely sure what his plan is until they take dinner away and you’re left with nothing but your wine glass in front of you.

Kodo’s is full of water. 

You flinch when he clears his throat before speaking. 

“I was told something odd when I woke up after my accident.”

This is it. 

You’re dead.

Din’s dead. 

You should have just risked it and left with him days ago. 

“People believe that I tried to hurt you, that I was injured when I drunkenly slipped.” His voice is full of a dangerous, malice as he traces the rim of his glass with his finger. 

You should tell Din that you love him before they drag him away. He deserves to hear it. 

Or would that make things worse for him?

Would they hurt him more if they knew?

Dank farrik, you should have repeated yourself when you said it. Now he might never know how you feel. 

“I don’t know why anyone would possibly think that.” He tilts his glass to the side, watching the water shift back and forth. “Because that isn’t what happened, right, wife?” 

Din was right. 

At least you spent your last night happy. If you’re executed you’ll think of his laughter before you go. 

“Right? Wife?” He says it much louder now, his fist comes down to meet the table and you jump a bit in your chair. 

There’s no escape. Not if he remembers. There isn’t anything anymore. Just you and just Din. 

There’s a lump in your throat as you give him a single small nod. Out of the corner of your eye you see Din take the smallest step towards you but he doesn’t do anything drastic as Kodo leans back in his chair. 

“Good. Then you shall tell the common folk you visit what really happened, that a bored servant made that story up, it never happened and you are more than happy here.” He takes a sip of his water and you stare at him, baffled. 

Maker. 

He doesn’t remember. 

He. Doesn’t. Remember.

He believes the story.

He just wants you to tell people it didn’t happen because it affects his image. 

You’re so relieved you could cry, as you nod, holding back a smile. 

“Of course.” Your voice cracks but you can’t find it in you to care. “Of course, dear husband, I will tell them that it was just a misunderstanding, that the entire story is a lie.” Your knee bounces under the table as you resist the urge to look at Din.

Kodo nods towards the door.

“Then it’s settled. You’re dismissed.”

That’s it?

Holy shit, that’s it.

You have to stop yourself from sprinting out the door as you bow before taking slow steps out. 

In the hallway you glance at Din, staring into the visor with wide eyes before heading towards your chambers.

You don’t dare say a word on the walk back to your room, neither does he. 

You did it. 

You’re worried you're dreaming but you know for certain that you aren’t.

You actually fucking did it.

Din is fine, and he’s going to remain fine. 

It feels too good to be true and you just want to pull him into a hug and squeal like a kid on christmas. 

The walk feels like it takes ages as you make your way through the halls until finally you’re there. He opens the door for you as you step inside he shuts it behind you both. You turn towards him ready to just about scream with glee but he beats you to it, scooping you up into his arms and spinning you around. 

When he sets you down he doesn’t even think about it as you feel the cool rush of air against your face, he lifts his helmet off nearly all the way with one hand, the other hand wraps around your waist he pulls you close, kissing your forehead before dragging his nose down your face like he’s using it to guide his way before pressing his lips to yours. You manage to shut your eyes before he pulls it off completely. 

He laughs, leaning in to kiss you again.

“You’re the only person I’ve met who wouldn’t look, you know that right?” He mumbles into the kiss before pulling back.

“That’s why I can’t look,” You open your eyes as you hear the airlock once more. “You make exceptions for me and I don’t want you to regret it.”

“I won’t regret it.”

“You might. So we’ll wait.” You play with the band that goes across the chest as he holds you close with his arm around your waist. 

“How long?” He sounds downright excited. 

“When I know you won’t regret it.”

“How exactly are you going to measure that? I’ve already decided I’m ready.” 

You know exactly when you’d be willing to look.

You would look if you were married to him.

But you won’t tell him that, solely because you don’t want him to want to marry you just so you’ll look, you want him to want it. And you haven’t even talked about marriage with him, besides your “jokes,” which definietly don’t count.

“I’ll let you know when I figure that out.”

You just stare at each other, you’re grinning at him and you’re certain he’s grinning right back at you. 

“We really did it. We’re okay.” You whisper as he nods. 

“You did it, I caused it.” 

“No more fighting. This is a happy night.” 

“Fine, if tonight's happy night then I have a surprise for you.” He makes his way to the closet as he says it, disappearing for a second before returning with a pair of pants and a cotton tunic, handing them to you. “Put these on.” 

“How could you possibly have a surprise, we’ve been in this room for days and up until a few minutes ago we didn’t know if you were going to be imprisoned for treason.” You take the clothes, turning around so he can unlace your gown, which he swiftly does. 

“I planned this surprise ages ago, I was just saving it for a special occasion.” He pulls each ribbon free and you let the dress slide off of you, stepping into the pants. 

“So what kind of surprise are we dealing with here?” You turn back towards him as you pull the shirt over your head. 

“The kind I know you’re going to love.”

“How can you be sure?” 

“Because you’ve been waiting for it.” 

He gets down on his knee in front of you, you inhale so sharply you nearly stumble backwards as he stares up at you.

This can’t be happening. There’s no way, you haven’t talked this over enough yet.

You should start considering the fact that he might be a genuine mind reader.

“Sarad’ika…” His helmet is tilted up at you, your heart is racing. 

Yes. 

You’re going to say yes.

You’re holding your breath, waiting for him to continue.

But he doesn’t.

Instead he reaches under your bed and pulls out a bundle of black fabric that you furrow your brows at. He stands and hands it to you, you hear him stifle a laugh.  

“Why are you looking at me like that, sarad, I was just getting this for you.” You shove him as he says it, your face getting hot.

“You’re an idiot.” You grumble, unfolding the fabric you see it’s a half cloak, there’s a veil over the hood that will completely conceal your face. 

“Oh, did you think I was going to- oh wow, princess.” He puts on an act of shock as you pull the cloak on, thankful that he can’t see the embarrassment on your face. 

“That wasn't funny.” 

“So you’re the only one allowed to make jokes?”

“If all your jokes are going to be like that then yes.” 

In all honesty, you aren’t upset in the slightest.

Because he’s alive and unharmed and capable of making jokes.

You couldn’t possibly ask for more right now.

“I’m sorry, maybe the surprise will make you forgive me. And make sure you thank Elaine at some point for that, she made it for you.” He chuckles, pointing at the cloak. “Come on, let’s go, we’ll have to stop at the cabin before we head into the city.” He takes your hand.

You forget all about his little stunt when you hear that, and your face lights up with excitement as you realize there’s only one place he could possibly be taking you if you’re going into the city past sundown.

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

[sapphicseasapphire]

There are many tales and legends that follow Hyrule’s history.

These legends are passed down amongst mortals, told to generation after generation. Whispered my mortals to their children, turned to ballads sung around campfires, carved into stone to last lifetimes.

Mortals tell stories of the creation of their world: of Golden Goddesses. Din, who formed the rock, the physical structure of the earth. She crafted mountains out of hardening lava, canyons carved from shifting stone. And then there was Nayru, who placed laws upon the land. Not petty mortal laws in place to measure morality, but universal laws that must be followed. Things like time or gravity. Finally, there was Farore, who breathed life into the newly formed world. She covered the earth in blankets of lush green, populated forests and rivers with wildlife, placed people upon the fresh surface.

The Golden Three then left their completed world to create another, as was their purpose. But they didn’t leave it alone. For left behind was a fourth Goddess, Hylia, tasked with protecting the realm. Hylia had great power, and with it, she created minor deities, lesser Gods with specialized tasks in order to ease her own burdens.

And that, it would seem, is where the story begins.

. . .

In every era, in every time line, the God of Time is known by a different name. Throughout history, these names take on new meanings, tall tales are woven by the chattering of mortals.

In his own era, he is Link. A hero. It is a name spoken with gratitude, with admiration, with appreciation. He’s a Godling walking amongst mortals, mingling with them. Bonding with them. Becoming involved in a way that most deities wouldn’t dare. Then again, he used to be one of them.

As years pass, centuries lost to the relentless flow of time, his status grows. He learns. He evolves. He is no Godling anymore. Some know him as the Fierce Deity, a powerful Protection God not unlike Hylia. Though his methods are more… direct. He’s a warrior, he cuts down his enemies without hesitation. He will stop at nothing to keep his people safe… even if that means becoming lost to his own power.

(Members of the Hyrulean Army, royalty, and those training in the ways of battle will pray for his protection during conflicts.)

To others, he is known as Father Time: a minor deity with dominion over the flow of time. He cannot see the future, but he can change the it by changing the past. With the ability to rewind and create new timelines, he remains a Protector God. Most of the folklore here comes as an explanation for dejavú. It is said that if an action or place feels familiar to you even if you have no recollection of being there or doing it before, that’s Father Time rewriting history for you. He’s watching over your shoulder, creating a timeline for the best version of your future. It’s familiar because you HAVE done it before, he’s giving you a chance to do it over. Don’t miss that chance.

(People from all corners of Hyrule pray to him for luck)

To others, he is the Man of Many Faces. He’s said to be able to change shape at will, walking among mortals and acting as a messenger for the Gods. He relays information that he’s gathered among the land of Hyrule and relays it the deities who cannot- or will not- show themselves. He’s less of a protector in these legends, often depicted as a young man. Maybe even a child. Some accounts paint him out to be stoic, while others view him more as a trickster god. It is said that if you encounter a stranger while on the road, silent and nameless, that the Man of Many Faces is paying you a visit. Treat them with kindness, you never know who’s watching.

(Travelers pray to him for safety on the road and in the wilds, though a lot of prayers are just asking for forgiveness or asking for specific messages to be relayed)

. . .

Time wasn’t always a God.

Hylia had been quiet for centuries, having divided her duties among so many minor deities. These deities kept the balance, though they weren’t involved in mortals’ lives. However, a certain Hylian child quickly caught their attention. Young Link had broken Nayru’s laws so carelessly during the course of his quest to save his world from Ganondorf’s malice. So often. So recklessly. It made more work for the Gods, and they watched him closely, gauging his competency, his resourcefulness, his willingness to succeed.

They were pleased with his skills.

And so, when his quest was over, they thrust him into another.

The land of Termina wasn’t real- kind of Koholint style but also Silent Realm style. It was one big trail to test child Link, baby Time, to see if he’d be able to handle being a God.

Link has no idea that it’s an illusion when he stumbles into the strange land, when he’s faced into a vicious three day cycle, staring down a malicious moon. Countless lives are at stake, people rely on him without even knowing the power he wields. He is a child, he is a grown man, he is no one, and he is the only person who is real.

Throughout this trail, he’s given the ability to use masks to change his shape, including the mask of the Fierce Deity, who he would eventually become. This trail nearly kills him. In fact, it does kill him. The moon crashes into the earth, cleansing this imaginary land in Din’s flames… only for it to be brought back again, for Link to be revived.

Until he gets it right.

There’s no escape. If he fails, he cannot walk away and return to Hyrule. No, he can only retry. Again and again. Until he succeeds and is rewarded with the Godly mantle thrust upon him. The point of the trail was to simulate a world that needed saving, to teach him the fragility of mortal lives, to force him to use time as a weapon, as a tool, to his advantage. Training grounds for a young God.

When he finally succeeds, he comes face to face with the Gods who have forsaken him, and he does not get to deny their plans for him. He can do nothing to fight against the searing pain behind his eyelid as sacred light pours out from him. He cannot escape his fate as he is Marked.

Link spent years in Termina. Depending on who you ask, he never returned at all.

. . .

Some notes!

• He’s kind of the ‘other.’ The newest God, barely considered to be anything of note by those who have existed for millennia. He’s met Hylia. Nayru, Din, and Farore are gone but he can still sense them. Hear them. Sometimes he can speak to them. He knows every deity from every era. He knows legends that have been lost to time, legends amongst Gods. Legends that mortals have forgotten.

• He knows the Legend of the Godkiller. He’s. Terrified of Sky, actually.

• His relationship with other Gods isn’t so great (this man’s so good at holding grudges). And his connection with mortals is what makes him so special! He interacts with them literally all the time, he’s married to one, and some day, he will have mortal children. Or else Twilight wouldn’t exist.

• “You’ve met with a terrible fate, haven’t you?”

• He plays his silly little Song of Time, but really, he doesn’t need to. He doesn’t rewind time often since it just makes new timelines for him to keep track of (and there’s already too many, thank you very much). He only does so when it’s life or death. And by that I mean, he only does so when someone dies and he has to bring them back.

• HE CANNOT DIE. If he gets mortally wounded, time flows as usual up until he takes his last breath, then it automatically rewinds to the moment before he sustained the injury. He does not get sick. He does not age. He is the only member of the group that is actually 100% immortal

• This is not a good thing.

• He knows A LOT. More than he lets on, more than he’d ever hope to be able to explain. More than I could ever explain to you, dear reader, as I myself am not a God.

Original Character Sheets!

Sky’s Origin!

Wild’s Origin!

[orcasoul]

That Time Again

A/N: Just a little (well it was intended to be little, but, oh well) drabble here because I can't help but think how Din, spending most of his adult life alone when not with the covert, and not knowing much about a woman's cycle, would be embarrassed when he accidentally thinks she's injured and feels bad for embarrassing her too. I think after the initial awkwardness, he'd be such a sweetheart about it :)

The hunt didn't exactly go to plan, screw that, it was an epic failure! You and Din had just managed to get away by the skin of your teeth! You'd never been so relieved as when you saw the Razor Crest come into view, Din lowering the ramp by his vambrace. Once safely inside, with the ramp secure, you slump back into the cold steel wall, enjoying the icy chill seeping through your top into your sweaty skin as you catch your breath. "Well that didn't go well," Din panted as he leaned against the opposite wall.

"No shit," You shake your head through a half chuckle, half moan, "So what's the plan, now?" With his breathing finally under control Din stands tall, every bit the confident Mandalorian, even when he's not trying to be. It just naturally oozes from him. "He's scared and desperate now. He knows we're after him, so he'll keep running. I just didn't expect him to have so many men protecting him. But I'll get him, don't worry about that." Raising an eyebrow, you counter, "You mean we'll get him." "No!" came Din's curt and authoritative relpy, "It's too dangerous for you now."

"Din...," you begin protesting but he continues. "I've been doing this a long time, so trust me when I say I have to do this alone. This one just got much more complicated. I can't focus on the target and protect you at the same time. We're lucky we got out in one piece." Reluctantly you agree, but can't help but feel butterflies in your belly at Din's protectiveness of you. It's at times like this that you think, maybe he does feel the same way.

Locking that thought away you push off of the wall and begin to walk away when you hear a modulated gasp and feel Din's gloved hands grip your shoulders, stopping you in your place. "What the-," "You're hurt!" Din's voice quavers as panic grips his chest. You turn your head, utterly confused, trying to see where he's looking. What the hell? He's looking at ...my arse? "What? I'm not hurt. what are you talk-," Oh shit! Your eyes widen and your cheeks burn red as you realise what has happened.

You spin around, slowly backing away, trying your best not to stammer, but failing miserably. "Its n... not what you... you think. I'm... I'm fine." Din straightens, surprised by your weird response. "You're not fine, your bleeding. Let me-," "No!" He stops at your raised voice. "I'll take care of it. Trust me it's nothing." "It's not nothing." Now Din is raising his voice, clearly frustrated which in turn is making things worse.

Maker can't he just let it go? Can the universe do you a favour and open a black hole to swallow you now? He's really going to make you say it, isn't he? "Why won't you just let me help?" Din's asks exasperatedly, walking closer to you as you back away. "Cause it's nothing!' you insist, your stomach in knots. "Stop saying that!" Din blusterd. You drop your head into your hands, pressing the heels into your eyes, embarrassment burning through every inch of you. "For makers sake, Din! It's my period, okay. I've bled through!"

Silence follows your outburst, causing you to look back up at Din, who's stood stock still, if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was a statue. "Oh...," he mumbled, awkwardly. "Yeah... 'oh'," you scoffed. "I... I'm sorry... I didn't mean-," "It's okay," you blurted, right now not knowing what was redder, the blood on your trousers of the blood in your cheeks, "I'm just... gonna... go," you pointed over your shoulder to the fresher. As you shower, you realised that you'd been so eager to escape that situation that you'd forgotten to bring clean clothes with you. "Aw, shit," you grumble to yourself. Well, hopefully he'll be in the cockpit.

You open the fresher door, peaking around carefully. You've already had one embarrassing moment today, you don't need another. To your relief, you're alone. You sigh and look down, and that's when you see the neatly folded pile of clean clothes on the floor, right in front of the door. You smile as you pick them up, taking them with you into the fresher to change. Once you're clean and presentable, you head up to the cockpit, knowing you can't avoid each other on such a small ship. So you'll have to, as they say, suck it up. But when you open the door, your met with an empty room.

"Din?" no answer. "Din?" you shout louder, but still, no answer. That's odd. He never leaves without telling you. Maybe he's just as embarrassed as you? Maybe he can't face you right now? Before you can dwell on it any longer, you hear the ramp lowering. You slide down the ladder to the hull to see Din walking up the ramp with a brown paper bag in hand. He stops a couple of feet in front of you, the atmosphere clearly awkward.

"I'm sorry I snapped at you, Din-," you begin, desperate to dissipate the discomfort between you both. "Please don't apologise," Din lifts a hand to stop you, "I'm sorry. I didn't realise.... if I'd known, I wouldn't have...," Din clears his throat and slowly holds the bag out for you to take. "What's this?" you smile as you take the bag and look inside. Your heart melts at the sight. Inside, there are sanitary towels, tampons, a moon cup, heat up gel packs, pain relief and even a big bar of chocolate.

You feel like crying. Kriff, this man is so sweet and so kind. Could he be any more perfect? If you hadn't already fallen in love with him, you would have now. "Din...," his name leaves your mouth in a whisper, while holding in the tears. You look into his visor, hoping you're making eye contact. "You didn't have to do this. Thank you! This is... so sweet of you." "I wanted to help," he replied, softly. "I didn't mean to embarrass you earlier," he added after a moment. "It's okay," you shrug, feeling the embarrassment melt away by the second. "I think we were both a bit embarrassed."

"Yeah," Din chuckles, his shoulders losing some of the tension in them. He still feels bad about the situation, but seeing your eyes light up at his gift means the world to him, just as you do. Damn it, if only he could tell you how much he loves you. He's fearless in every aspect of his life, except when it comes to you. "Look, I don't claim to know much about 'this'," he emphasizes, "but I want you to know you don't ever have to feel awkward about it around me. We're a team, and if there's anything you ever need or anything I can do to help at this time, you can always come to me, okay?"

Your eyes soften even more and you're sure you're looking at Din like he'd hung the stars right now, but you don't care. You want him to know how much you appreciate his kindness and scincerity. "Thank you, Din. That means a lot." You can't help the beaming smile on your face right now. "You know...," you begin, teasingly, "for somebody who says he doesn't know much about 'this', you sure knew what products to look for."

"Well, I might have asked the lady working in the store if she could help me pick out the best things," Din confessed, in a playful tone. "And this?..." you wave the chocolate in front of his helmet, grinning like a fool. Din shrugged and you just knew he was grinning under his helmet too. "She also said some women have cravings, so I thought, best be prepared." "We're sharing this," you tap the bar against his breast-plate. Din chuckled, shaking his head in amusement, "Whatever you say, Cyar'ika."

[fandomforg]

So, Your Child is Force Sensitive:

it’s a book written during the prequel era by some mommy blogger on a random planet. she’s got a set of force sensitive twin boys and she compiled her blog posts into a book all about raising force sensitives and choosing not to give them to the jedi temple.

the book is not super well known, it only ever sold maybe a few hundred copies, but it’s honestly really detailed. this lady did her research, but still is able to give her outside perspectives as a force null. she talks all about being pregnant with force sensitives, the babies special needs as empaths, the choice to raise them herself, interactions between force sensitives being raised together, the developmental checkpoints that are different from force nulls, and even how to deal with your moody and powerful force sensitive teens.

the book also talks a bit about jedi ideology and family structures (to help parents make the decision of whether to give the kid to the jedi or not) (it took her so long and so many space emails to the jedi to do that research)

the jedi themselves, however, are not too big of fans of this book because they think it’s probably for the best for force sensitive kids to be raised in the temple (and in some ways it is), but this mommy blogger advocates that with the right, caring parents and the right knowledge, force sensitive kids can do just fine being raised at home (and she’s also kinda right)

anyway, the book stays unpopular all the way up until order 66. then the book gets super-duper banned with all the rest of the reputable information on force sensitive people and the jedi. the mommy blogger stops posting. her and her now adult children drop off the map. her small (but devoted) following has no idea if they’re ok or even alive, but they go to great lengths to erase all of her personal information off the holonet if they can.

the galaxy keeps turning, and the mommy blogger stays missing, but sometimes her book (the few copies not destroyed) will end up in the hands of people who need it. people like bail and breha organa, owen and beru lars, kanan jarrus and hera syndulla, and even eventually din djarin.

even luke skywalker gets himself a copy when he’s suddenly responsible for having his own little force school. (at one point, din is reading the chapter on letting go of your kids when they leave the nest, while luke is simultaneously reading the chapter on how to calm an inconsolable youngling)

a lot of the research into how the jedi work and their ideologies are actually way more accurate, relevant, and recent than any of luke’s other ancient jedi texts, so that’s how luke’s jedi order rebuilding efforts become mostly built on one chapter of a book written by a middle-aged, force null, mother of two.

this mommy blogger may have started her blog just to document her journey in raising her twins, but she ended up writing a book that would help raise a generation of force sensitive children who had no jedi temple to turn to. her honest care spread farther than she could have imagined.

still, nobody could find out where she and her twins went, even after the fall of the empire when it was safe.

[themultifandomgal]

Ethan Choi- One Up

Warnings- talks about miscarriage and toxic sister. Also if your waiting for a request I’m working on them. Hoping to get them up end of the week maybe next week.

When we were kids, my sister Phoebe and I were the best of friends. We did everything together, yes she was 2 years older but we loved each other. However things changed when we were at high school. We drifted  apart, she was popular, I wasn't. She was your typical thin pretty girl who had all the boys chasing her, I however wasn't like that.

Then when she graduated she went to collage to be a makeup artist. When I left school I went to collage to be a nurse, a year later my sister decided to go to school to become a doctor.

When I moved into my first apartment she moved into a house.

When I started dating Ethan, a doctor at Med where I work, my sister started dating a CEO of a company. When Ethan proposed we rang my parents, Phoebe, her boyfriend and Ethan's sister Emily to our apartment for food to celebrate. Of course as soon as I say 'Ethan and I are engaged' Phoebe comes out with 'well Alexander and I also got engaged today' and shows us her ring. How does she do this? How did she know? So the meal to celebrate my engagement turned out to be a meal to celebrate her engagement as well, which ok fine I can't grumble to much, but could she not have waited until the following day?

Mine and Ethan's wedding was perfect, except for when Phoebe had to tell everyone that she was going to get married in Mexico. Why did she have to do this at my wedding? It's like she is constantly trying to one up me.

After our wedding Ethan and I decided we wanted to try for a baby, before we knew it we were painting our spare room and Ethan was building a crib. That was all put on hold when I woke up one night in pain and was bleeding. Miscarriage.

I waited a couple of days before I told my parents who insisted that Ethan and I come over for a home cooked meal. I asked Ethan sister to come for support, because knowing my sister she will have something to say. And boy was I right.

"We don't have to go if you don't feel ready" Ethan takes my hand in his and gives it a squeeze

"Yeah I can go and tell everyone that your not feeling well" Emily says poking her head between Ethan and I

"No it's ok. I'll be fine. Come on" I open up the car door and head to the front door. I open it up, Ethan and Emily following me

"Mum? Dad?" I call out. Mum runs out of the kitchen and hugs me

"Oh my sweet girl. How are you feeling?"

"Errm ok I guess. Can we not talk about it"

"Of course. Go and sit at the table. Dinners nearly done" we walk to the dinning room where Phoebe and her husband are sat giggling. Taking a deep breath I sit opposite her with Emily and Ethan either side of me.

We eat our food which was amazing and mum brings out dessert when Phoebe has to say something

"Ok I'm glad mum and dad asked us to have this meal together because I have some, sorry, we have some exciting news"

"Your moving to the Bermuda triangle?" Emily mutters, I have to try and hide my smirk

"No" Phoebe looks at Emily annoyed then looks back at all of us smiling "I'm pregnant" immediately I feel everyone's eyes on me

"Oh... wow that's... erm congratulations" I manage to stutter out

"Thank you YN. We're super excited aren't we?" Not leaving her husband a chance to speak she continues "we've started decorating the room, we're actually 3 months along. We decided to keep it very quiet since you decided tell us all and then have a miscarriage, we didn't want to upset mum and dad anymore"

"Is she for real?" Emily looks at me. I feel a mixture of upset and anger

"We had our scan and everything is good. We even heard their heart beat, which is the best feeling the the world knowing your baby is alive and safe. That I am keeping them safe"

"I think that's enough Phoebe" mum sternly says

"Why? I thought you'd be happy to hear that your actually going to have a grandchild. Oh YN could we have the crib you bought and clothes, since your not getting to us them. Seems a shame to go to waste" that's it. Hot tear roll down my face as I stand up

"You want the clothes and crib we bought for our baby who we only lost last week?"

"Well yeah why is that a problem you have no baby coming I do"

"Your unbelievable. I didn't chose to loose mine and Ethan's baby. Your acting as if it was my fault" I leave the table and room hearing my mum and dad scold Phoebe for being so inconsiderate. I run to my old bedroom upstairs and break down into tears when the door opens. Ethan walks in and immediately wraps me up in his arms

"I'm sorry she said all that. It affects you as well. It wasn't just me that lost a baby it was you. Are you ok?" I ask looking up. Ethan is also crying now

"She had no right to ask any of that. Your mum and dad have told her to leave"

"You didn't answer my question. Are you ok?"

"I will be" Ethan kisses the top of my head and we stay like this for a little while.

[ohtobeleah]

Lessons in Love & War // Bradley Bradshaw

-> A Terms of Endearment Blurb

Summary: On one of your first shifts back at work after the events of ToE. Odette is plagued with an illness that sends her to the emergency room with a very panicked Bradley Bradshaw.

Warnings: Fever. appendicitis. Relationship miscommunication, misguided anger. Bradley Bradshaw x F!reader. Jake Seresin x F!platonic!reader.

Word Count: 3.8k

Author Note: Day Eighteen of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Fever/Separated from loved ones. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list.

Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Monday, Wednesday, Friday. Those were your days off. Tuesday and Thursday were the days that you bravely stepped outside your little bubble of peace and went back to work doing what you loved. No one in their right mind was about to stop you either, you could handle two full days at a time. Two days in one week was enough for you right now. Mav was in full support of you and Rooster sharing your full time hours. He went in to bat for you whenever the topic was brought up to the higher ups. He was your unofficial proxy. 

“Oh hi there Dotty girl.” You weren’t ready to send your little girl back to daycare yet either. So Odette spent her days with her favourite person besides you, her Tooster, on Tuesdays and Thursdays. “What's got you all sad?”

Bradley had been doing some work on his laptop–he was reading up on the signs, symptoms and possible characteristics of depression. You were just a little off at the moment, with good reason. You'd been through so much–more than anyone ever deserved to be put through.

“My tummy huwts Tooster–” Odette mumbled through tired eyes as she padded into the dinning room with her blanky, sucking her thumb. She had been feeling under the weather for a few days now, since Monday–It was now Thursday and she hadn’t started to get better in the slightest bit.  

“Oh sweet girl, come here.” Bradley cooed as he reached out for the little girl who had stolen his heart, he scooped her up under her armpits and sat her on his lap. The first thing Bradley noticed was the heat Odette had to her. “Holy crap, you're burning up baby girl.” He frowned as he placed the back of his hand to her forehead. “You've got a bit of a fever there.” It was worrying, especially since Odette had already had some children Tylenol not long before you left for work. How long had she had a fever for? 

“My tummy huwts–” She nearly sobbed as her little head lulled to the side, she placed her cheek against Rooter's chest to listen to his heartbeat. The kiss he planted on the top of her head as he rocked his knees back and forth to soothe your daughter told Odette that she was safe, that her Tooster would make her feel better. “Tooster–”

“I know baby, I know.” But the fact of the matter was Bradley didn't know. Sure he’d lay his life down on the line for Odette, but he really had no idea how to act when she was sick. It broke his heart to see the usually so energetic and full of life extension of you so down in the dumps and sick as a dog. She hadnt been her usual self for a few days and it was unnerving to say the very least. He did his best however, to keep a confident front up that he had this covered while you were gone. 

Bradley Bradshaw was confident and wise enough to take care of a sick three year old. How serious could a flu be? Or a tummy bug as you were pretty sure it was. 

“How about I make you some soup and we watch cartoons and hang out on the lounge for the rest of the day?” All Odette did in response was nod very tiredly. She hadn’t been sleeping through the night and the little sleep she was getting, was in between you and Rooster, where she felt safest and where you felt like she belonged right now. 

Odette didnt eat her soup, Bradley had tried to get her to have a few spoonfuls of the pureed pumpkin and sweet potato soup he’d heated over the stove but it was to no avail. Your little girl was not having a bar of it before the tears started. 

“Oh sweetheart, don't cry.” Bradley cooed as Odette snuggled as close as she could into her Tooster. 

“My Tummy huwts Tooster make it stowp.” Dot mumbled into Rooster's shirt, clinging to him for dear life as she climbed his torso and laid herself flat as she could on him. All Bradley did was try his best to soothe the clearly uncomfortable three year old he’d been left in charge of today. 

“How about we get you some more medicine to make you feel a little better?” It was the only thing he could really think of in the moment, Dot hadn’t been well sure, but this was a whole new level of unwell. “We’ll get a washcloth for your forehead too baby, that might help.” Bradley was starting to realise that he may or may not have been in over his head with this. He hadn’t gone through this before, he hadn’t ever had to worry so deeply about a child not being well before. He wanted so desperately to take Odette's pain away. He wanted so desperately to make her feel all better like you somehow always managed too. But this seemed more serious than just a cold or flu or random stomach ache. 

And when little three year old Odette Dolan (Bradshaw) started to scream, cry and throw up in the bath Bradley tried to run for her to help her feel better, he didn't know what to do. He knew it wasn't just her being scared of the bath, because she’d been really good in it as of late. The past few weeks she’d gone without a fuss so long as Tooster and you were in it with her. But right now, as Bradley rubbed small circles into her little back and watched as she dry heaved into the bow he held under her chin, he knew he had to take her to people who could actually make her feel better. 

“I think we need to take you to the hospital baby girl.” He sighed to himself, watching as her tears streamed down her puffy face. She hadnt eaten all day, hadnt cried this hard ever. She was in pain–Bradley could clearly see that. “Let's get you dressed and I'm gonna take you alright, see some doctors so that they can help.” Before Bradley could think about helping Odette out of the bath, she slumped into his hold, completely exhausted from crying and trying to throw up. Her fever had yet to break and she was burning up. “Okay, Okay–” That's when the panic really set in. “We’re going right now baby I've got you.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“You know I’d ask what exactly it is that you’re doing—“ Jake made sure to make himself known as he entered your hanger. “But I’ve come to learn overtime that that question doesn’t always have such a good answer.” He didn’t want to scare you, he knew that coming back to work was what you needed in order to move on, get back into a normal routine and make an effort to keep yourself from completely falling apart. The day had almost passed you by and you’d only caught yourself thinking about Jaidyn Dolan like….seven hundred times. 

“I tried to call Roo at lunch to see how things are going at home but he hasn’t returned my call.” You replied while you sat at your workshop desk, working on a part Jake couldn’t quite pick. “Tell me everything’s fine, that we’re okay?” He knew what you meant, you didn’t need to elaborate or explain yourself. Jake knew, hell he knew because that very morning he’d woken Amilia up with his horrendous screams. He’d called out for Bob in the void of darkness. 

“Dots sick isn’t she?” Jake sighed as he stood behind you, watching carefully as you worked. He didn’t want to point out that you were tapping your leg up and down like a mad woman or mention that you were tensing your shoulders, so instead he bent over to kiss the top of your head and kept his hands firmly on your shoulders. “They’re fine Fe—if anything Bradshaws probably just spending his day off sleeping and watching Repunzel for the thirteenth time.” You couldn’t help but to smile at the thought. “Trust me, they’re good, we’re good, everyone’s good and accounted for.” 

“Thanks—“ It was like Jake had talked you down from some metaphorical ledge that you’d been standing on, ready to jump. Only you had been contemplating leaving work early to race home and make sure two of the most important people in your life are safe. “You’re right, he’s probably just sleeping with Dotty.” 

“I can almost guarantee it.” Jake replied. “Besides, you’re off soon enough, no need to stress when everything’s okay Fe.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Everything was not okay. Bradley Bradshaw had never been more freaked out in his entire life. He hated seeing Odette this way, so sick and visibly in pain. This had to be more than just a stomach ache, her fever hadn’t broken in hours, she wasn't keeping food or fluids down and she could barely keep her little head upright as he carried her into the emergency room of the Miramar Base Hospital. 

“Sir–?” The triage nurse was immediately on her feet when she saw Rooster through the little window. “Bring her right in.” Bradley did exactly that, he took the little girl who was burning up in his arms right into the triage room so that Odette could be assessed. “Who do we have here?” The nurse asked softly as she set up her station. 

“This is Odette, Uh–Dot, she prefers Dot.” Bradley cooed as he sat down on the empty chair with Odette still clinging to him. “She my daughter, well, kinda, I’m her mothers partner and I’m one of her medical proxies and emergency contacts.” Bradley felt like all eyes were on him as he explained his relationship to Odette. He wasn't her dad but he was the closest thing she had. “She's been sick for a few days, but today her fevers just skyrocketed and she's not keeping anything down.” 

“Is she throwing up?” The nurse asked as she placed little Odette's arm in a blood pressure monitor. “Any diarrhoea?” 

“She's been throwing up, but I haven't noticed any diarrhoea–” 

“And you said she's had a fever for a while?” 

“Yeah and today her stomachs been hurting pretty badly too.” The nurse could see the worry in Bradley Bradshaw's eyes. She knew enough in those few moments to know that he cared enough about this tiny human to bring her in for treatment. 

“Dot honey?” The nurse cooed as she looked at Odette and placed a tiny admission wristband on her wrist. “Can you point to what side your tummy’s been hurting on?” Odette, albeit slowly, pointed to her right side, just above her pelvis. The nurse sitting across from her immediately typed something onto the report she was writing up and turned back to face Bradley. “Okay Mr. Bradshaw, you can take Dot through to fast track, I'll have her admitted for an ultrasound but if I had to take a good guess here I'd say your little girl's appendix is acting up.” 

“That means surgery?” Bradley held the little girl who was everything to him a little tighter. The nurse nodded in confirmation. 

“You did the right thing bringing her in, we just need you to fill out these consent forms and we’ll take care of her.” The triage nurse could see on Odette file that Bradley was indeed an authorised person to give medical consent on Odette's behalf if you weren't able to. “But yes, she’ll need surgery if it is in fact her appendix, we don't want it to burst and by the looks of things if she's been sick for a few days it could very well be about to.” 

“Okay–” Bradley pressed his lips together in a fine line, he felt sick to his stomach, his little girl was in so much pain. “Okay, uh–let's go Dotty, I've got you baby.” But in all the fuss and worry and focus he’d forgotten one very vital thing. He’d forgotten to message you about what was going on, all his focus had been on Dot that he forgot to message you. Her Mother. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

You hadn’t heard from Bradley all day. Usually he’d send you little updates, let you know when Odette had gone for a nap, if she’d eaten, if she was at  daycare when he picked her up and dropped her off. But today he’d been radio silent since around ten this morning. 

“Roo honey?” You were already on edge with the radio silence, but when you pulled into the driveway to see Bradley’s Bronco wasn’t there your heart immediately sunk into your stomach. “I'm home, you here?” Nothing. There was nothing but a still silence that flooded your home as you went in search for the man who had helped you out yourself back together again. 

“Rooster?” You nearly sobbed out as you walked down the hallway to the bathroom, at the sight of water in the tub you immediately broke out into a heartbroken cry. No. No, not your baby, not your little girl. “Bradley!!?” It felt like you were right there, watching your ex try to drown you baby girl in the bath when your phone rang. 

It was like the ringtone snapped you back into reality and all of a sudden the scene playing out before you was gone. It was just you again, staring at yourself in the mirror across the bathroom. When you looked down at your phone to see that it was just Jake and not Bradley, you cried a little harder and answered. 

“Told you everything would be o—hey woah? What’s the matter Fe why are you crying?” Jake had just picked Amilia up from Paybacks play to drive her to work when your sobbed rang through the truck. “Y/n?” 

“Roosters not here and I can’t find Dot.” Was all you had to say before Jake was pulling over on the side of the road before swinging around. Amilia slammed against the doorframe of the passenger’s side as he did so. 

“Righto, ease up turbo.” She hissed as a frown overtook her face. “And you have the nerve to call me a maniac on the road.” 

“Talk to me when you know your left and rights Oz.” Jake chuckled knowing that Amilia from time to time still had to really think about what side of the road to drive on. “Fe, try to breathe alright, I’m sure there’s a reasonable explanation for why they aren’t home.” 

“He hasn’t been answering his phone all day Jake! He doesn’t do that!” You sobbed painfully as you slid down the wall of your hallway to hug your knees to your chest. “He doesn’t—he doesn’t do that, he doesn’t—“ Jake knew you were having a full on panic attack, he knew because he got them too. Amilia heard it in your voice, the way you tried to breathe through your words. “He left—he took her, I can’t breathe—“ 

“I’ll call Rooster.” Amilia quickly pulled her phone out to call Bradley, his name in her phone was the Chicken Man. “There’s gotta be a good reason he’d just vanish with Dot right?” 

“She’s sick.” Jake mumbled just loud enough for Amilia to hear. “Something could have happened but until we get ahold of him I don’t know what to do.” 

“Voicemail—“ Amilia didn’t wait for Jake to tell her to try again, she was on it before he even had a chance to blink. “Fucking dammit Bradshaw.” 

“We’re around the corner Fe, we’re on our way, just stay on the phone with me yeah?” Jake cooed as tears welled in his eyes, he hated this, hated hearing you so panicked. 

“Fuck! Voicemail again.” Amilia groaned as she tried for a third time to get ahold of the missing lieutenant. “Surely he’s not intentionally ignoring us right?” 

“No—“ Jake sighed frustratedly as he ran a hand across his face. “No somethings wrong, he’s distracted by something, he wouldn’t just go radio silent, not on Fe, me maybe, but not Fe.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“Tooster.” She looked so tiny in the middle of the gurney. “My tummy huwts.” But Bradley knew as he walked with the surgical tray who was about to take your little girl in for emergent surgery that she was going to feel a hell of a lot better after. 

“I know baby I know.” Rooster cooed as leaned over to press a gentle kiss to your daughter's forehead. “But the doctors here are gonna make you feel all better.” When Odette spoke soon after, Bradley’s heart sunk into his arse. 

“I want mamma—“ Holy shit, he’d been so caught up making sure Odette got the care and help she needed, that he hadn’t even checked in with you. 

“Mammas gonna be here when you come out of surgery baby, I promise.” Bradley could feel the colour draining from his face as he watched your little girl nod. “And so is uncle Jake—“ Bradley knew he was about to be in the dog house. He should have rung. He should have kept you in the loop. He couldn’t imagine what was going through your mind right about now. 

As soon as the double doors closed, Bradley immediately pulled his phone out of his back pocket and couldn’t believe what he saw. An unknown amount of missed calls and texts from one Amilia Fisher explaining in great detail the way she was going to skin him alive for whatever it is that was keeping him from getting back to her. 

There were a handful of missed calls and text from you throughout the day, just checking in to see how Dot was going. 

And then there was one very important text, a singular message from none other than Jake Seresin that scared the shit out of Bradley. The overall calmness of it all, the time he read it in, the lack of urgency made it all the more worrying—because when Jake got calm? Bradley knew he was about five seconds away from blowing up. 

H_ngm_n: “You better have running shoes on man.”

“Fuck—“ Braldey pressed on Jake’s called ID to ring him as quick as he could. This wasn’t good, not at all. It only took three rings before Jake was answering. “I can explain!” 

“Where are you?” Was all Jake asked, again as calm as ever. 

“I’m at the hospital, Dots fever was skyrocketing so I brought her in, turns out she has appendicitis, she’s on her way into surgery.” It was the most rushed explanation Bradley could give as he ran his free hand through his hair and paced up and down the hall. “Is Y/n okay? Is she alright?”

“We’ll be there soon.” Was all Jake said before he hung up. Bradley felt like he couldn’t breathe, he knew he’d fucked up. He should have called you when he was heading over to the hospital and think back to it he knew he had left the bath water in the bath too. 

He’d fucked up, and he knew that you’d be a wreck too. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

When you first saw Rooster sitting in the waiting room, your heart beat just a little faster. But although you loved him so deeply and so fiercely, his decision not to call you about what was going on had left you wondering if he understood just how important it was for you to know the whereabouts of your daughter right now. 

“Where is she?” You asked sternly. “Where’s my daughter?” Bradley could tell by the look in your eyes that you were pissed, but the love you had for Odette took priority. 

He sat in one of those plastic hospital waiting room chairs, dishevelled and worried that he’d crossed some invisible boundary. Bradley didn’t mean to keep you in the dark, it was never his intention. He was just so focused on Odette that he didn’t think of anything else. 

“She’s in surgery, they said someone would come give us an update as soon as she’s out.” Bradley explained as he stood from the chair he sat in and reached out to draw you into him. But you shrugged him off. “Y/n—“

“How am I the last person to find out my daughter has appendicitis?” You asked through a hiss. “Tell me Rooster how do you forget to tell the mother of the child you rushed to the emergency room that hey—we’re going to the hospital don’t freak out?” 

“I’m so unbelievably sorry.” Jake could tell that Bradley was sincere. “I was just so focused on Dot I didn’t stop to think, she was so upset, I just wanted her to be okay.” 

“Well she’s not alright is she!” It was just the fear talking, the fear taking over your critical thinking capabilities. “She’s in surgery getting her appendix removed and her mother wasn’t by her side to tell her everything would be alright because you—“ You shoved at Roosters chest, he didn’t budge. “Didn’t tell me what the hell was going on.” 

“Y/n, listen to me for a second alright sweetheart?” It was killing him, the idea that you were mad at him for doing whatever he could for Odette. 

“No—no don’t you dare sweetheart me right now Bradley, how could you not remember to ring me? Send me a fucking text?”

“Because I was looking after her! The little girl you left me to take care of! Her fever was getting out of control Fe!” It was one of the first fights the two of you had ever had. 

“She’s not your damn daughter Bradley!” You didn’t mean it, hell the words you spoke even shocked you and you could immediately tell that what you had said cut Bradley deep as his features softened In disappointment and frustration. “I’m her mother, and you should have called me when she was getting worse.” 

“Yeah—“ Bradley stiffened up as he looked over at Jake, he knew just how hurt you were by this mess but he never thought you’d throw Bradley’s ability to care for your little girl back in his face. “No yeah you’re totally right, I’m just gonna go, I’ll uh—I’ll just go back to my house and clean up the mess your daughter fucking makes all day because you’re too scared to send her back to daycare then.” 

It was your turn to be stunned. 

“Call me when she’s out, or don’t, I don’t care.” Bradley hissed as he walked past where you stood with his hands in his pockets and his tail between his legs. 

“I won’t!” You called back as you watched Bradley walk out of the front doors of the Miramar Base Hospital, wondering how the hell he was going to fix this god awful mess. 

***~***~***~***~***~***~****~

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

[decembermidnight]

Dangerous Games

Summary: You hide under the table, pleasing Mando while he talks business with Karga. He's going to punish you for being so shameless later, on his ship.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 4.7k

Warnings: no plot - just smut, 18+ mdni, oral (m receiving), helmet stays on, choking, edging (m and f), unprotected sex (p in v), handcuffs, hard dom!din, sub!reader, possessive!din, jealous!din, rough sex, female fingering, semi-public sex acts, degradation kink, humiliation kink, exhibition kink, dirty talk...

A/n: Many thanks for the love you've showed to Cherry Liqueur! Here's my second one shot. As always, I hope you enjoy it! Divider: @saradika-graphics

The cantina on Nevarro is dark and busy tonight. It’s full of bounty hunters and the sun has already set. As always, the sun drops fast on this forsaken planet.

When you and Mando enter inside, you feel all eyes on you two, eyes that are both scared by his daunting presence but also attracted to you, the beautiful woman by his side. You feel safe as you know they wouldn’t dare touch you, they know how possessive and dangerous the Mandalorian is. His hand is wrapped around your waist for everyone to see. You are walking in front of him towards an empty private booth, separated from the others by wooden walls, waiting for the Guild Master, with whom Mando has a meeting to collect his bounties and to receive the pucks of the next quarries.

The discrete booth is perfect for giving the two of them enough privacy to discuss delicate matters about their business, without the risk of anyone else to hear… or see.

This time you want to dare, you want more than just massaging his erection under the table from outside his pants. You want to push his boundaries to the limit, to see where he dares to go.

You are caressing his inner thigh, already teasing him, when you come up with a nasty thought.

"I want to suck your dick while you're talking business with Karga." you whisper in his neck, moving your hand from his thigh to his growing erection.

He tilts the helmet towards you and you smile provocatively in response.

"I want to see if you can keep your cool while I wrap my lips around you." you bite your lip as the thought makes your heart beat faster.

His hand, wrapped in his leather glove, is brushing your thigh, caressing your soft skin slowly, climbing up to the hem of your skirt and giving you shivers as he gets closer to where you want him the most.

"That would be" he pauses as his hand slides to your inner thigh, your legs spreading for him, "very dangerous, you know that?" he whispers, grinning behind his helmet, pleased by the reaction of your body to his touch, and by your hand delicately brushing the bulge in his pants.

"Yes it is. What if he finds me there, under the table, with your dick deep in my throat? What would he think of his best bounty hunter doing such a perverse thing?" you keep going on massaging the cock you can’t wait to have in your mouth.

He grunts and you can feel his dick throbbing. He's excited at the thought, and you know it.

"He's going to be here in a few moments." That's all he says as he slides one of his fingers into your panties and rubs a few circles around your clit, earning a gasp from you. It sounds like an invitation to you.

"Relax and enjoy my mouth. All you need to do is to be the same Mando as always. Will you do that?" you purr into his neck.

He lets out an aroused sigh at the thought, at your sensual voice, at your hand brushing his cock, at what is about to happen.

"Maker, you’re such a slut-" he can't even finish the phrase, you are between his legs already, trafficking with his utility belt to unfasten it.

It would be impossible for anyone else in the cantina to see you there. You are also shielded by Mando’s legs, preventing Karga from ever being able to feel your presence there.

You take his dick out and as you expected, you find it rock hard. You admire his thickness in your hands, your pussy clenching in anticipation of what's to come.

You start by sliding your tongue up and down the shaft, and you feel it twitching in pleasure when he feels your warm, delicate touch. He adjusts himself, sinking into the booth and letting out a sigh that you could barely hear through the modulator. 

You continue to softly brush it with your touch, alternating your tongue and your lips, covering its shaft in kisses and trailing your tongue up and down. You want him to only be able to feel your delicate, hot mouth on his cock, so you rest your hands on your thighs.

Mando breathes quietly, and just enjoys the view of you worshipping his cock.

"Fuck" he whispers in complete bliss, completely absorbed by the sight and feel of you between his legs, acting so shameless in public only for him to see, to realise that his Guild Master has entered the cantina and is walking towards your booth.

"Mando!" you hear Karga's familiar voice approaching. "How are you doing tonight?" he asks as he walks inside the booth and sits in front of him, right behind you. You start to feel a tingle of excitement at the thought that he could find you there if he just elongated his legs a little more.

Before Mando can answer, you wet your lips and slowly start to slide the tip of his cock into your mouth, massaging it with your tongue. You want to take your time, slowly increasing the pleasure to see how he handles it.

His cock twitches and he chokes a grunt.

"Fine." he replies, keeping it under control.

"And where is your lovely companion?" Karga asks as he doesn't see you by Mando's side as always.

"O-on the ship." He can barely keep his focus as you are swirling your soft tongue around the head of his dick, all the concentration goes from his brain to his cock, making him falter. 

"Are you ok Mando? Is something wrong?" Karga asks in a murmur, genuinely concerned.

You start kissing his favourite spot, the frenulum connecting the tip with the shaft. He's so sensitive over there.

"Just t-tired. Fuck." he stutters as he tries to appear the same, cold blooded, laconic Mando as always.

You can just imagine the look on Karga's face. He knows something's not right.

"Tell me the truth, Mando." His voice is serious and as he gets closer to him, you feel his elbows lean on the table right above you "Is your beautiful lady letting you rest enough?” he whispers, barely audible, before bursting in a laugh.

Mando's whole body goes rigid at the thought of Karga imagining you naked and getting railed. You are his, you only belong to him. He doesn’t like the idea of any other man imagining you in a way he does not agree to.

The thought of his jealousy drives you crazy, and you feel the urge to touch yourself, so you slide your hand up your skirt and move your soaking wet panties to one side, revealing your dripping core to the dirty floor. You start by touching your clit. It’s so swollen and sensitive, and you’re so aroused, your slick is generously coating your pussy, only adding to the already overwhelming pleasure. Your mouth turns more rigid and Mando notices. He knows you’re now touching yourself as you’re sucking his dick, all while he has to appear the same badass bounty hunter as always, and the thought makes him dizzy, so dizzy in fact, that he can’t articulate a proper response.

"This- is not-" he tries to say but all he can think of is your tongue, delicately massaging that perfect spot, while you’re giving yourself pleasure kneeling in front of him. He chokes his cursing and plants his hand firmly on the table. You feel him throb into your mouth. He’s losing his mind over this dangerous game played between the two of you.

Karga bursts into laughter “I get it, I get it, my bad. Let’s talk business.” says as he gathers the credits and the new pucks from his belt.

You slide two fingers inside of your entrance and start to desperately and pathetically fuck yourself while you try to keep the rhythm of your tongue around his tip, knowing that you have to be quiet, knowing that Mando is the one at risk of being caught, while you’re safely shielded by his legs.

Mando’s never been more grateful for the helmet he's wearing. He's completely ignoring Karga who is going on talking about the next quarries, showing him the pucks and briefly describing them and the last place where they were spotted. Mando stays diligently still, his eyes are closed under the helmet, and he's zoning out of the conversation, completely focused on the pleasure you’re giving him and feels by the irregular rhythm of your licks that you’re close to your orgasm.

"Fine, give them all to me. Just-" he clenches his hand into a fist as you take it all in your throat and start deepthroating him to distract yourself from your imminent orgasm, not wanting to cum just yet.

"We could do this another day if you-"

"Fuck” he grits, interrupting him “No. Y-you stay right there and k-keep going." he growls.

“Fine, fine. Not going anywhere. Damn, you’re nervous today.”

There's something even more intimate about this than the secret pleasure you're giving him. You are making the infamous Mandalorian bounty hunter falter with just your mouth. You're making him vulnerable, piercing through his armour with your adoring mouth only. The man under all that, that's always in control of everything, dominating over you, now can't do anything else but sink into your hot mouth and let you give him pleasure the way you want to. It's you who is in control right now, and he can't do anything to stop that.

Words cannot describe how much you are loving this and how wet you are. You can feel your slick completely coating your inner thighs and your hand down to your knuckle. You feel the overwhelming sensation of the orgasm growing deeper and deeper inside of you, so you take as much of him in your mouth as you can to suffocate your moans. Your other hand grips tight to the back of his thigh…

And you cum.

Your vision turns black, and your body is traversed by a devastating force, a blaze, setting your whole body on fire. You sink into him in complete bliss, muffling your moans on his cock, sucking it hard in your mouth, your choked breath brushes the dark curls at the base of his shaft, letting him know this way that you’ve reached your climax.

You’re having an orgasm on the dirty floor of a filthy cantina full of bounty hunters on a forsaken planet, while sucking the cock of a Mandalorian that is discussing business with his Guild Master, who could find out about this all at any moment. The adrenaline rush of your thoughts blends with the mind-blowing power of your orgasm, making your mind dizzy, gripping him even tighter, digging into his tense muscles, afraid but at the same time thrilled at the thought of losing control.

As the feeling gradually fades away and you regain control over yourself, you pass your hand over your pussy and inner thighs to collect your slick and start slowly massaging his dick with it, letting him know how aroused you are when you act this filthy. You give him a few strokes just with your hand to coat him completely, and only then you wrap your lips around him once again and start licking his sensitive spot while you keep stroking his length with your wet hand.

"So here's your credits" Karga puts them on the table and slides them towards Mando. "Count them. It's for all the quarries you're handing today, plus" he sighs "what I didn't have last time."

You realise he is close to his orgasm when you feel his legs stiffen up. He’s dying to rock his hips to push his cock further into your throat, but he can’t, he has to stay perfectly still and rely on your movements only. You push it deep back in your throat and start moving your head up and down, as he would do if he could grab your hair. 

The Mandalorian is completely subjugated by your mouth, the overwhelming feeling of his imminent orgasm makes him falter, he suffocates a grunt between his teeth as he slams his hand on the table.

You feel his cock pulsing and immediately starts pumping his white, hot load into your mouth and throat. You swallow, delighted by the fact that you've managed to make him cum like this, while he's working, in a dangerous place, and keep milking him until the last drop has come out. You lick him completely clean, tasting both his and your orgasms on his cock.

"Fine, fine, I'll count them for you." Karga goes on counting the credits in front of the empty armour, as the man inside of it is somewhere else, under that table, inside your mouth, spurting his seed into it.

"All good." he says, making a huge effort right after his orgasm, his cock still pulsing in your mouth.

"Well" Karga puts his hands on the table "I think it's time for me to leave. Say hello to your beautiful lady when you see her, wherever she is. And please, get some rest.” he chuckles as he gets up and leaves.

When Mando sees Karga has left the building, he looks at you tucking his spent cock back in his pants. He nods and you come out and sit close to him.

"Fuck. I need to punish you for being such a whore. Sucking my cock like that, touching yourself so close to Karga. You'll regret this when we get back to the ship." his voice is a coarse growl, and his words ignite you once again, like a flame running from your chest to your core.

"Yes, Mando, make me regret it because I loved it so much, I want to do that again." your voice sounds so deep and sensual as you pass two fingers on your lips and bring them into your mouth, sucking them and letting out a barely audible moan, all while looking at him straight into his visor.

He grabs your throat and you softly mewl in arousal, looking at him with lustful eyes.

"Stop taunting me, pretty girl." he growls as he slowly lowers you on the booth with his hand wrapped around your throat, while the other one holds your legs up in a tight grip, your knees against his shoulder. He lowers his upper body on yours. Now you're face to face with his helmet.

"Do it. Punish me. Here. In front of everyone." you whisper, barely audible, as you take your tits out of your dress and start squeezing them.

"If you didn't just make me cum in your throat, I'd fuck you right here, right now." he starts sliding his hand between your legs, you gradually spreading them as it goes, slowly running towards your hot core.

You hiss and bite your lip as he slides two gloved fingers inside of you, while he tightens the grip on your throat to block your air flux so you can't scream. You let out a choked moan.

"Such a whore. Feel how wet you are. Laying there, with your pretty tits hanging out. Shameless. Getting fingered in this dirty ass cantina. What if someone comes in and finds you like this, huh? Would you like it?" his thick fingers keep digging deep inside of you.

Your back arches and your pussy clenches around his fingers at the thought of someone seeing you like this, with his fingers buried deep inside of you, your almost naked body under his, his hand around your throat. His.

"Yeah, you do." he whispers, grinning under his helmet, pleased at the way your body responds to his teasing. "Stars, you look so beautiful like this - at my mercy, helpless and obedient like a good girl. I could make you cum like this, we both know that, but I won't. You need to learn how to behave." He takes his fingers out and puts them into your mouth. You taste both the salty of your arousal and the leather of his gloves, letting your tongue slide all the way to his knuckle, without ever interrupting eye contact.

"Get up, whore. Let's go back to my ship." he growls, slapping one of your breasts and releasing the grip on your throat.

"Cover yourself." he orders as he gets up.

You obey, sticking your breasts back inside your dress and getting up, fixing your hair and dress. You feel dizzy and shaky, his hand is wrapped around your waist once again as you walk out of the cantina. You walk through the empty, dark streets of Nevarro until you get to the ship, where you get in.

As soon as the ramp closes behind you, you find yourself pinned against the steel wall, your whole body banging against it, Beskar hitting you from behind. He is grabbing your wrists in his iron grip, parallel to your head, and spreading your legs using his feet. His erection is rock hard against your ass.

"Fuck. Fuck. Yes. Like this." you whisper as he rocks his hips rubbing his erection on your ass, moaning shamelessly in your ear. The voice through his helmet is sharp and raspy and you can't help gasping, completely out of breath, your body pressed between the steel wall of his ship and his beskar armor.

"Like this? Pretty girl, look at you. So hungry and desperate for my cock” his voice sounds even darker now, whispered softly into your neck.

"I want you, Mando" you beg "so fucking bad" you rock your hips too, rubbing your butt against his rock hard erection, earning a gasp from the Mandalorian behind you.

His grip on your wrists tightens and he lowers them behind your back, handcuffing you. He slides his hands under your dress, taking your soaked panties off, and turns you around.

He hums in pleasure as he grips your throat with one of his hands, looking at your eyes filled with lust for him.

"On your knees. Now." his voice is dark and peremptory. He's back in charge and he knows it. You obey his order, lowering yourself back on your knees, looking at him from your submissive spot. The visor of the helmet looks into you as he takes off his gloves.

He takes his time working on the utility belt and his pants to take his cock out. When he does, you just admire how achingly beautiful and thick it is, hard and throbbing at the thought of you. He holds your head still and slides it in your mouth, slowly, tasting the sweet welcome of your velvety tongue massaging its tip, making him groan. He starts thrusting into your mouth slowly, to get to get it wet, and only then, he starts fucking your hole recklessly, thrusting into you violently, at an unbelievable rhythm, pushing it deep inside of your throat.

His moans of pleasure make your denied pussy clench hysterically. You wish he was fucking your pussy like this. When you feel he's getting closer to his orgasm, he pulls out, panting.

"That was close" he chuckles sadistically as he grabs his cock into his hand, squeezing a drop of precum out. 

Hearing him chuckling, seeing him edging himself using your mouth it's too much, and you let out a whimper. He knows exactly what to do when he wants to punish you. You are so unbelievably aroused, you feel your slick running down your inner thighs and your legs start to shake.

He ignores your desperation and slides it back in your mouth, this time using you for his pleasure, as he stays still and pushes your head, gripping a handful of your hair in his hands. He gets on the edge of his orgasm once again, screaming loudly as he gets closer and closer to it, managing to pull it out before it's too late. His self control is so admirable, you don't know how he manages to get so close and then stop all of a sudden. It only makes you even more aroused, knowing he can control his body in such a flawless way.

"Fuck. Your mouth is too good. But I don't want to cum in there. I want to fuck you like you deserve. Little slut." his voice is now a guttural growl, sounding more and more depraved as he goes on edging himself.

"Please, please, do it, put it in my pussy, I need it so badly, please" you whimper as you stare at his glistening erection. Your whole body is shaking in desperation.

"Look at you. Crying begging for my cock. Do you want it in your little pussy?" He slaps your face with it, spreading all the saliva coating it all over your face.

"Yes! Yes pl-" he doesn't let you finish, he sticks it again in your mouth.

"I didn't hear you" he chuckles, taunting you and your desperation.

Hearing him having fun this way, teasing and treating you like an object, drives you mad, and you'd do anything to get his dick inside your throbbing cunt.

You just moan desperately as you can't articulate words.

He growls and takes it out. You're both panting.

"Say it. Beg for it like a good girl." he pulls your hair so you can look at him in his visor.

"I want you to fuck my pussy and fill it with your cum, please Mando please!" you beg him, looking at him with tears in your eyes, your face is glistening in saliva and precum. Knowing that he's the one who reduced you like this, a whimpering mess, begging for his cock on your knees, looking so adorable while doing it, drives him wild.

"Damn, you look incredible like this. Stars, you're stunning. Pretty girl, I can use you as much as I want." he whispers while sliding the tip of his cock on your lips.

"Yes - I'm yours. Use me as you please." you answer whispering to him.

He cups your face in his hand and lowers his head, his Beskar forehead on yours.

"Fuck. You're my obedient little girl. Now turn around and bend for me."

You obey and bend in front of him, arching your back, your face touches the ground and your ass is raised.

"Fuck - spread your legs. Let me see how wet you are"

You do and he hums in pleasure. He goes on his knees and widens your pussy and takes a good look at the arousal that is coating you, dripping down your inner thighs. He's entranced by that sight and sticks his thumb inside of you. You bite your lip to muffle the scream of pleasure coming from his touch.

"Screaming like this just for one finger? Damn, you're pathetic." he mocks you.

He takes his cock in his hand and starts teasing your entrance, allowing just the tip to go inside, then taking it out and having fun sliding on it to hear the wet sounds of your pussy and your cries. Your body is shaking, achingly needy, and he is loving it.

He puts it in slowly, to let you adjust to his size. He feels it clench it around him, you're pathetically close already, but he won't let you cum that fast.

He stops moving when he is completely inside of you. You're both panting as the stimulation provided by each other would make you both cum within seconds. 

"Calm down pretty girl. We are just getting started." He caresses your back.

After a few deep breaths, he starts thrusting into you with violent, regular thrusts. The noise of his hips against your ass and your moans is all you can hear. 

"That's what you fucking deserve. Fuck - Blowing me under the table like that, making me cum in your throat during a business meeting. Whore. You are my whore." he growls in between thrusts.

When you feel you're close to your orgasm and start screaming out of control, he takes it out, earning a loud scream of desperation and disappointment.

"No! Fuck! Put it back in, Mando! Make me cum! Make me cum! Please!" you're completely hysterical, crying, screaming and cursing at him, begging for release.

He chuckles, both amused and aroused at how desperate you are for his cock.

"Maker - listen to you" he starts stroking his wet cock in front of you as you look at him, shaking your pussy in desperate need of release.

"Hear that? Fuck, you made it so wet." he moans hard for you to listen "Look at how hard it is, and how it slides into my hand. Damn, you wish I was fucking your little pussy like this, don't you?"

"Yes. Please, please put it in and fuck me like that, please." you're on the verge of tears.

He puts the tip inside of your cunt and starts stroking it, teasing you once again.

"You know I could cum in your pretty pussy just like this? Could fill you up with my cum, leaving you unsatisfied, begging for me? Leaving you like that, handcuffed on the floor, with your cum dripping down your legs? F-fuck-" the thought of it makes him get dangerously close to his orgasm, so he stops jerking himself off.

"Don't" you cry "please, please, please I'm on my knees begging for you to fuck me" you cry loudly.

He grips your hips even tighter and gives one deep thrust, then stops. His whole body is shaking and he is panting.

Your greedy, needy cunt clenches around him, not wanting to let him go.

"Fuck" he pants "You want this cock so badly, I c-can feel it. You don't want me to stop fucking you, r-right?" he growls.

"Yeah" you whisper, completely subjugated by his thick cock throbbing inside of you. "Not ever. I'm yours. I'm your slave." 

When he hears that, he starts jackhammering into you and he hits that perfect spot that makes your brain default, reducing you once again to a pathetic, screaming mess, begging him not to stop.

"I won't stop fucking you until you cum, pretty girl. C-can't ever get enough of you."

He digs his hands into your hips so hard it will give you bruises but you don't care. Your face is laying down on the cold steel floor of his ship, your eyes are rolling out of pleasure and your mouth is wide open, letting out wild screams. Mando slides one of his hands on your clit and starts rubbing it. The hot sensation of the orgasm is building up in your core, and you are getting tighter and tighter and you can feel and hear how much Mando is enjoying it. He is grunting and panting.

"Cum. Cum on my cock. Let me feel it." he growls.

And you do.

You let out desperate groans of pleasure, your whole body is shaking and your cunt is clamping around his cock in its desperate, rhythmic grip, a grip so strong that Mando chokes a groan and can't do nothing but cum and fill you with his hot seed. Fuck, you feel like you don't have control on your body anymore. You are shaking and drooling and screaming as the Mandalorian fucks you through your orgasms.

When he's done releasing, he doesn't take it out. He's completely out of breath and panting, but he doesn't stop rubbing your clit.

"Give me another one, mesh'la." His cock is still throbbing deep inside of you, as the feeling of oversensitivity leaves for a new wave of arousal. You are so spent, your body stays completely still, as his hand quickly gets you over the edge once again.

"Yes. Yes. Cum on the cold floor of my ship like the little slut that you are." he is so pleased to know he pulled another orgasm from you so quickly, hearing you moaning loudly, out of control, and feeling you clenching hard around his cock, still hard inside of you.

You are now completely debilitated, a hot mess on his ship's floor.

As he takes it out, his seed starts to drip down your inner thighs, while your pussy is still clenching in aftershock, your whole body is shaking, you're panting and your face is a wet mess of tears, sweat and saliva, your hair sticks to it.

He sits on the floor behind you, catching his breath, watching your wrecked cunt letting his seed drip down your legs, pleased at the way he reduced you.

[yopossum]

Yopossum Masterlist

Hi! Yopossum here!! They/she. Queer weird dynamically disabled mentally ill and totally chill mom/spouse/friend/writer/artist/wildlife wrangler/rabble-rouser/cryptid. Older than the World Wide Web. I love meandering prose and big feelings and happy endings (both kinds)

All content will be rated on both series and each installment of the series. Warnings on each series masterlist unless otherwise indicated. Not every work will be sexy or explicit, but I have a blanket NO MINORS policy for anything I post.

Key - 🔥: smut — ⛈️: angst — 💖: fluff — 🌈: queer

Happy to interact, appreciate a like or a reblog, love if you feel compelled to share; not presently taking requests or seeking constructive feedback or suggestions. That said, I work hard to create content and curate a space that is open and safe and accurate. I do my best to research and be mindful but if I misstep or am misinformed, please reach out!

I do NOT have a regular posting schedule because I am a joyful agent of gentle chaos. I also don’t have a tag list because frankly I am too much of a mess to keep track of one 💕

All brainworms are my own and I do not purport to own or represent any pre-existing characters or IPs.

AO3 - KO-FI

Characters

Joel Miller

Not Anyone Who Says - series, in-progress - Joel x OFC Juniper - M/E 💖🔥

Matilija - series, in-progress - Joel x f!Reader - M

Snug - one shot for @beefrobeefcal’s Married Joel Sits on You challenge - Joel x wife reader - M - 💖

& what if hope crashes through the door - series, ongoing - Joel x OFC + Hopper x Joyce (Stranger Things) - M/E - ⛈️💖🔥

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales

Known You When - two part - Frankie x f!Reader - E ⛈️🔥💖

Floating - one shot - Frankie x gn!Reader - M 💖⛈️

Safe Harbor - one shot - Frankie x Santiago - M/E 🏳️‍🌈⛈️🔥💖

Watching - one shot - voyeur Frankie - E 🔥

Ezra

Never Let Me Go - oneshot - sub!Ezra x gn!Reader - E - 🔥💖

Dieter Bravo

HOME - series, ongoing - Dieter x bff!Reader (mostly platonic bffs/roommates) - M/E - 💖🔥🌈⛈️

Sweet Dee - oneshot - sub!Dieter x gn!Reader - E - 🔥💖

The X Files drabble - Dieter x Mulder x Scully - E 🔥

Jack “Whiskey” Daniels

Kindred Spirits - miniseries - Professor Jack Daniels, PhD x f!Reader - M/E - 💖🔥

Sing for You Forever - oneshot - musician Jack AU x f!manager Reader - M - ⛈️💖🌈 (no romance!)

Silva

El Gran Varón - oneshot - Silva x Jake - M - ⛈️🌈

Din Djarin

Only One Bed - ficlet - Din x gn!Reader - T - just goofy!

Untitled - oneshot, TBD - solo Din - E - 🔥

Tim Rockford

Manspreading ficlet - Tim x gn!reader - E

Javier Peña

The Secret Place - Javi x female reader - E 🔥💖

Paranoia Paralizante - series, TBD - Javi x ??? - E - 🔥⛈️

Marcus Moreno

Untitled - series, TBD - Marcus Moreno x Mr. Ben - M/E 💖🌈🔥

Mr. Ben

Untitled - series, TBD - Mr Ben x Marcus Moreno - M/E 💖🌈🔥

[moodymisty]

How about Din getting jealous? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

That Grogu like the reader more than him XD

I feel like he’d feel so betrayed and secretly pout under the helmet.

Author's note: You're gonna pay for baiting me like that, you know..... I kid I kid, I love dadmode!Din so much. Edit: forgot to add a few notes that I meant to earlier because I am... stoopid

Relationships: Din Djarin/Gn!Reader

Warnings: None unless you consider excessive fluff a thing to warn for. And snuggling. Just being a little family after Din gets over being overprotective and a little jelly (not completely but enough lol)

Din will never allow his eyes to wander off the kid when you're near him, at first. They usually never do, but with someone else close by, he's on constant high alert.

He'll snatch Grogu up if he starts walking your way, or make sure that any attempt to say more than a few words at the little one is met with a firm glare you can feel through the tinted visor of his helmet. Any reassurances of your peaceful intentions are met with incertitude at best; Though you still give them none the less.

His excuse for being this way is protection; He can’t just let anyone near the kid. And while you're understanding, at least somewhat, Grogu definitely isn't on the same wavelength as the two of you. and Din hates it. You two are attached at the hip within moments.

It seems like as early as the first day you saw him, any time you're within reaching distance of the kid he's trying to make his way closer; Tugging at your clothes or reaching out in your direction. If Din is holding him or he's snug in his pram, he's always trying to catch a peek at you, making curious little noises. You reciprocate every one, always smiling back or laughing. Din at first doesn't quite realize why his chest feels tight when you do.

The Mandalorian manages to halt most of these efforts, but a few manage to slip through his non-stop surveillance.

'Hello', You whisper to him at one point while you're walking beside the hovering pram, smiling down at the child. Din for the first time silently lets it slide, continuing forward but his eyes still watching you out the side of his helmet's visor.

You're not even looking his way at the moment, and Din eventually just sluffs off; Filled with noticeable displeasure. You roll your eyes at him, and try and ignore the way his sentences are more snipped for the rest of the day.

But now you take the passenger seat in the Razor Crest- or later in Din's journey his N-1 Starfighter with the droid port modified to be a co-pilot's seat- which had previously only been Grogu's. You end up having the little one sit on your lap most of the time, particularly if you're landing or taking off. Grogu seems more than fine with the arrangement, and Din decides not to make a big deal of it.

After you're off planet you like to talk to Grogu while in hyperspace, talking about the stars or how 'he looks like such a pout over there', gossiping to only to the kid and smiling at the way you watch the Mandalorian's helmet crook towards you both. He's displeased, but he once again finds himself looking forward again and letting it slide. Din knows he isn't too much of a conversationalist, so surely Grogu enjoys your chatter. At least he seems to; And Din finds himself not minding it much either. Even if he'd still rather you talk to him.

It just takes time, chipping away at him piece by piece. but over time, Din finds himself also seeing a bit of whatever the kid sees in you.

The ship's gangplank is locked, all the supplies are secure, his and your blasters are clean; Din runs through his mental checklist, eyes drifting over every single centimeter of the Razor Crest.

The spaceport he's docked at tonight is safe enough, he feels like he can rest just for awhile without anyone trying to tear metal off the sides of the ship to sell for scrap.

He had sent you off to do so quite a bit ago, seeing the way your eyelids were drooping and you struggled to keep up with his sentences. When he'd told you to go lay down, you'd done it without much resistance. After one more once over Din finally walks back to his cot he indeed sees you tucked in it, the blanket tugged up over your shoulders as you're curled up underneath. One glance to the foot of the bed and he sees the floating pram closed, safely within reach. He looks back to you, eyes lingering for a moment and watching the way your body slowly raises and lowers with your breaths; Before he begins taking off his armor.

He's so tired; His body aches from the pain of carrying so much for days without sleep. Each piece is like peeling off a bit of him; So uncomfortable yet relieving. He gently sets them down, making as little noise as possible until he's left in only his flight suit.

The ship is almost pitch black other than a few small lights that barely illuminate around themselves, and he knows you'll keep your eyes closed. it's a well instilled habit in you now.

Once he's finished undressing he approaches the cot fully, and notices your lips curling upwards. So he'd either woken you up, or you've been listening to him this entire time. Your voice stops him, once you feel the weight of his knee on the cot.

"Sorry, Din. Your spot is taken."

You blindly pull back the blanket just enough to reveal the little child curled up in your arms instead of the pram, safely asleep. You usually curl up against Din's chest, so instead he loops around to your back, moving into the spot behind you and fully forfeiting his normal spot to the child. His arm lays limp over your waist, and you raise your head enough that his other arm can slip underneath your neck, becoming your pillow. the blanket rests at your waist level, now that you have his body heat to help warm you in the cold confines of the ship.

And for the first time in awhile, Din feels like he can actually let down his defenses a bit.

You're both here; The kid and you, right in his arms where he can feel you and see you. He doesn't have to keep a watchful eye on every stranger within reach and a hand on his blaster. His clan his safe; His family is safe.

He can just, breathe. For a moment.

“I’m glad the kid likes you.”

You can feel his facial scruff scratch against the top of your head as he speaks. Your eyes are still closed, so close to drifting off that you almost don't even respond to what he just said.

“What, did you think he wouldn’t?” Din noticeably stiffens for just a moment, before relaxing again.

"No," You can feel his arm laid gently over your waist, hand laying limp right next to Grogu.

"I'm just glad he chose you."

Join the taglist here: @starborncyare @simp-legend @nekotaetae @coffeyorky

[dindjarindiaries]

How about

“Honey, have you been crying? What is it? What’s wrong?”

with everyone’s favorite Mandalorian, Din Djarin.

I dropped my phone before I could finish my message! I’m sorry it came across as short and rude. I just wanted to thank you for even considering my request and I appreciate all your work. Thank you so much again!❤️ (A/N: Not rude at all, dear - but thank you so much for adding such a sweet note!)

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompt: “Honey, have you been crying? What is it? What’s wrong?”

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

You peered through the visors that concealed the viewport once again, only to be met with the darkness of the Nevarro night. Another breath tightened your chest as the familiar needles pricked at your throat. You considered the emergency comm that you were kneading in your hand, but refused to use it.

There was no emergency, and thus no need to worry him. There was just an unprecedented loneliness.

Din and Grogu's most recent venture had run two days longer than expected, though Din had communicated that to you via holo. He had promised they would be back in two days' time, and that time had arrived. If another delay came their way, you didn't know what you would do, because you were certain you couldn't wait another minute.

The worst part was that you didn't understand why. For years, when your home was a ship and not a cabin, you were able to go even longer without seeing Din as he ventured on job after job. Now, long after the Crest's devastating fate and years spent close together...

It was just lonely.

You glanced over your shoulder at the empty cabin. Only a single light was on, casting much of the comforting space in an ominous shadow. It felt so empty without all three of you there, and it was getting unbearable. You had tried to keep yourself busy with errand-running and other tasks, but there were only so many mundane tasks you could do.

You exhaled and squeezed your eyes shut, holding the comm even tighter in your fist. It was time to come to terms with the reality that Din had faced another delay, and that you would have to sleep in an empty bed for one more night.

The prickling sensation around your throat didn't cease as you resigned yourself to your fate and prepared for bed. After all you had been through with Din, you refused to cry over something as pitiful as loneliness. Your emotions, however, didn't agree with your sentiment, and the prickling only got worse as you settled into bed.

Your cheek rested upon your pillow as you looked over at the empty half of the bed. The tightening of your throat only got worse until you had to obey its demands, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut once again as the tears fell. With the comm still nearby on your bedside table, you tried your best to sleep, and somewhere amidst your crying your body finally gave out.

It wasn't much longer until the sound of your bedroom door opening woke you up.

At first, you were alert, sitting up straightaway and nearly reaching for your blaster in the process. When you caught Din's silhouette, however, all that panic faded and was exchanged for the sweetest wave of relief.

"Din," your utterance of his name was breathless as you rose from the bed and approached him. He met you in the middle, leaving his travel pack on the floor in favor of returning your embrace. A gloved hand firmly held your back before it ran along your spine in a gesture so overwhelmingly comforting that it almost made you sob with relief into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry we were late." Din's voice was hushed, causing it to crackle through his modulator as he continued to hold on to you. He waited until you were ready to pull away.

"It's okay." You smiled as you braced your hands upon his beskar, studying every inch of his visor and taking it all in. "I'm just glad you're safe."

Din gave his helmet a fond tilt. "We were..." Din paused as he studied you in return, and his helmet straightened in severity. His chest stalled as he lifted a gloved hand to the side of your face. His thumb ran over your cheek in a slow, steady motion. "Cyar'ika, have you been crying?"

You blinked a few times at him in disbelief. Your lips parted as you sought a way to dodge his question, but if the evidence was there for him to see, then there would be no way of lying to him.

"What is it?" Din's free hand removed his helmet from his head in one swift motion before it rested on the other side of your face. His brown eyes were widened in concern as his gaze searched yours. "What's wrong?"

You exhaled, your throat tightening again—but that time, it was in embarrassment. "It was nothing serious, I promise."

Din circled his jaw as he gave you a once-over. "Anything that bothers you is serious to me." His brow wrinkled together more as his gaze found yours. "Please, let me help."

You held his wrists and offered a reassuring smile. "You already have." You gave his wrists a squeeze as he lifted an eyebrow at you. "By coming back."

Din's brow relaxed in understanding, but you still offered the confirmation he was seeking.

"I just missed you. That's all." Your voice was pitifully quiet.

Din immediately took you back into his arms. "Oh, cyar'ika, I'm so sorry. I had no idea." He rested his chin upon your head. "You can always comm me. You know that, right?"

You closed your eyes and shrugged. "I didn't want to worry you." You swallowed hard and added one more thing. "Or make you feel bad."

Din took a deep breath, and the movement took you with him. "I appreciate you thinking of me like that, but you don't have to. Especially when it comes at the sake of your own wellbeing."

You nodded and kept yourself nestled in his warmth. "Okay." You let out a sweet exhale. "But you're back now. That's all that matters."

"I am." Din kissed your head before he urged you away, gesturing with his head to the bed. "But rest also matters, too."

You huffed and shook your head at him. "Whatever you say."

Din kept you closer than usual as the two of you rested that night, bringing a relief that went beyond any words—and soothed the ache in a way only he was capable of doing.

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

[lincolndjarin]

socials, etc. .𖥔 ݁ ˖ ao3 ☆ insta ☆ kofi mdni, my entire blog is 18+ please read all tags and warnings, dddne fics are tagged accordingly follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for fic updates

navigation :

I - series, completed & ongoing

II - one off's

III - drabbles

I - series (in order of release)

Best Kept Secret [ completed series ] .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 195k words

bodyguard!Din Djarin x princess!reader

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.

tags: : enemies to friends to lovers, arranged marriage, forbidden love, smut, angst, canon-typical violence, eventual happy ending

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Oh Honey [ completed series] .𖥔 ݁ ˖ 56k words

monster!Joel Miller x mortician!reader

summary : you’ve been given a gift. a fresh start in a brand new place, the sleepy little town of Honey, WV. a distant aunt has passed away and left you a little plot of land and her camper, the stars must be aligning for you because the local mortician is looking for an assistant and you’re desperate for the work experience. your new employer even offers to set you up with her brother-in-law! things are looking up, you’ve got a brand new home, a new town, a hot date, (and thanks to a series of bear attacks that started immediately after your arrival) you have more than enough work to keep you busy!

tags: : horror/mystery, angst, monster fucker, soulmates au, graphic descriptions of violence, body horror, gore

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Every Now and Then [ ongoing series]

Joel Miller x f!reader

summary : Joel Miller destroyed you. He loved you, then he left, leaving you in the New York City, QZ. But he's a good southern gentleman, so of course he didn't leave you without a reminder of the time you spent together. Four years later you're living in Jackson, in a lovely little ranch house. (With your reminder.) The last person you want to see is Joel Miller, unfortunately you've never been particularly lucky.

tags: : angst, toxic relationships, unplanned pregnancy, possessive behavior, healing, extremely complicated relationships

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Sparrow's Spectacles [ ongoing anthology ]

summary : a series of horror one shots based around different pedro characters. be warned, the dead doves are going to be remarkably inedible. installments will be tagged accordingly, all stories will be 18+ and dddne.

tags: : dead dove do not eat, horror, dub/noncon

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Venus [ coming soon ]

Din Djarin x cyborg!reader

summary : this may be your only chance to explore the galaxy, even if you aren't fond of the man who's been tasked with protecting you. leaving your chosen family of a crime lord and a master assassin to join a stranger on his run down razor crest. you've been guaranteed safe passage to any planet you can dream of, all you have to do is watch his kid while he's working. it wouldn't be that bad of a gig if it weren't for your arm. and your leg. and your stomach. turns out the man eternally covered in steel loathes the fact that parts of you are made of metal. one ship, one bunk, one green baby, and a man who refuses to see you as anything other than a monster. what could go wrong?

tags: : enemies to lovers, slow burn, the razor crest lives, canon typical violence, eventual smut

II - one off's (in order alphabetically)

A Little Mishap [francisco morales x f!reader]

tags : dead dove do not eat, noncon, bondage

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Bound in Beskar [din djarin x f!reader]

tags : armorer!mando, dom/sub vibes, pwp, blacksmith bondage

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Constructive Criticisms [javier peña x f!reader]

tags : virginity loss, fluff, mutual masturbation

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

the Dragonfly & the Moon [joel miller x f!witch!reader]

tags : ritualistic sex, knife play, blood

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

More & More & More [jack daniels x f!reader]

tags : dead dove do not eat, noncon, bondage

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

My Sister Lives in the Attic [joel miller x f!reader]

tags : grief, angst, child loss

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

My Way [oberyn martell x wife!reader]

tags : married fluff, pegging

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Not So Secret Santa [javier peña x f!coworker!reader]

tags : enemies to lovers, semi-public sex, christmas

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Pretty in Pink [joel miller x f!reader]

tags : fluff, breeding kink, lingerie

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Ride Cowgirl! [jack daniels x f!reader]

tags : unprotected sex, bondage

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

Sweet Boy [din djarin x gn!reader]

tags : sub!din, pegging

.𖥔 ݁ ˖

the Thing That Gives [ezra x f!reader]

tags : dead dove do not eat, noncon, tentacles

III - drabbles (under 1k words)

sub!din x f!reader

dieter bravo x f!reader

comandante veracruz x f!reader

[whiskeynwriting]

Hi, I would really like to request Din comforting wife reader near their daughters first birthday when reader still hasn’t lost the baby weight. I get really self conscious about not fitting in my bras and could just imagine Din being so sweet and loving about it and maybe taking her on a shopping spree at their next stop to get some new lingerie that make reader feel pretty and smutty times ensue with some amazing smutty praise 😍

This is just darling. It's PRECIOUS

Reader-Specific Writing: Body After Baby

Din Djarin x Female Reader

◆

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: 18+ (minors DNI) please read these warnings thoroughly, as there may be triggering aspects written here.

Body insecurity, parenting, mentions of pregnancy, breeding kink, lactation kink, body worship, helmetless Din, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, established relationship/marriage, reader is a mama, I thiiiiiink that’s it

◆

A/N: I really, truly adore this. And what's even better is I made it for my best friend. I hope you love it bb <3

◆

Reader-Specific Writing Masterlist

Join My Taglist!

◆

The house wasn’t everything you’d hoped for, but this life was. It was everything and more. And you never expected him to accept this, to understand this way of domesticity. But he did understand it; in fact, he wanted it. Din has yearned for this his entire life. 

It wasn’t a conventional marriage, not by your culture’s standards nor his. It was a blend - a perfect mix. Just like your life now. You’re not a warrior like your husband, you preferred a simpler, safer life. And for the time being, that’s exactly what you’ve been given. While you raise your child, hopefully children, your family will live in tranquility. But once they are of age, they’ll begin their training. Commencing Din’s preferred way of living. Until then, you’re to stay here, living on the planet that is Ralltiir. 

During your ceremony, Din promised to keep you safe, and settling here helped him fulfill that. The planet was known for its privacy, successfully maintaining its independence from general political battles - just what Din had envisioned for a home. He not only wanted to protect you, but it’s almost as if he wanted to keep you hidden. You were too precious for the outside world. You, and Vercopa. Your little ray of hope.

“Bid kih…” He hums, smoothing a hand gently over her head. She has barely any hair, but the hair she does have is dark like her father’s. (So small) 

It was a ritual of his, something that was special to him. The very first night Vercopa was brought home, he laid her tiny body on his chest, wrapping her in a blanket while her little hands felt her father’s warm touch. He just adores doing skin-to-skin with her. And that’s exactly what they’re doing now. 

Stepping out of the kitchen, you’re sure to be quiet as you take in the sight. Din shirtless and rocking gently in the chair near your living room, strong arms holding the precious soul you brought into the world. She’s everything to him; Din fell in love the moment he became aware of her small existence in your tummy. And when she came into the world, it was difficult to pry him away from her. But why would you ever want to? You know she’s going to be such a daddy’s girl.

Internally, he sighs, not wanting to wake his daughter. How have you already been here for an entire year? Smiling to himself, he releases a happy hum. He can’t believe her first birthday is almost here. 

“You’re going to be bid kotyc.” He whispers, leaning in to softly kiss her head. “Just like I’ll teach you to be.” Doing his best to remain still and quiet, he grins, his heart soaring with true joy and thankfulness. He knows she’ll be an amazing Mandalorian. (So strong)

The sight of Din holding and speaking to your child so sweetly fills your chest with such an incredible feeling. You’ve never known love like this. 

While your husband and daughter bond, you wander into the bathroom, getting yourself ready for the night. Once life had calmed, Din easily fell back into his routines. Which meant treating you to a night out once a week. Even when you were busy, he made time for it. He’ll dedicate the rest of his life to making time for you.

What an incredible milestone. For us all, really. Pondering your daughter’s first birthday, you find yourself feeling… unsure. Happy, of course, entirely elated to watch her grow. But selfishly, you cringe at the timeline. You thought this worry would be gone by now. 

Sighing, you rummage through your drawers, trying to find a bra that will fit. But it seems like you’ve run out of luck with that. 

“It’s been a year.” You grumble to yourself, closing your eyes in an attempt to calm down. “It’s been an entire year and everything still looks the fucking same.”

Your hips have gotten so wide since becoming pregnant and then giving birth to her. And your thighs… they make you frown. They’ve just gotten so big - everything has. And maker, not to mention your chest. When Vercopa was born, breastfeeding her wasn’t as difficult as you’d imagined, but once you stopped, your chest didn’t return to its normal size. It’s not like they sagged, they were just so big. Why?!

Overall, your body just feels… different. You don’t feel like you.

And what definitely doesn’t help is the constant reminder of it all. Every single day, your clothes bring the realization back into your mind, the remembrance of your new body. Your pants barely even fit, so you’ve resorted to dresses lately. And even then, it was difficult for their outline to contain your breasts. Why was this so difficult? 

“This is so useless.” The breath you release is high, signaling your oncoming cries. And Din hears. It’s a small noise, but one he picks up on, nonetheless. 

Concerned, he glances up, those dark brows furrowing. Your home isn’t big, only a few rooms huddled beneath the roof, so it’s difficult to hide. It’s easy to tell where the noise came from, he knows you’re in the bathroom. So, he stands, carefully moving into the baby’s room. With her still swaddled and snoozing quietly, he places her in the crib, taking one last glance before making his way over to you. 

“Cyare?” His voice is soft, approaching the situation cautiously while keeping himself quiet for the baby. (Beloved)

All he hears in response are your small sniffles, a certain weight pressing into his chest. He hates to see you upset, it genuinely disturbs him. 

Walking into the bathroom, he moves behind you, leaning down to rest his chin on your shoulder. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he sighs, urging you to do the same. His presence is so calming. The air feels smoother, sturdier. 

“What’s wrong?” His voice brings you back to reality, soothing your growing storm of emotions. 

Looking up, you can see those dark brown eyes staring at you in the reflection. Your nose stings from your tears as they spill down your cheeks, a lump growing heavy in your throat. And even though you’re only in a pair of panties, Din doesn’t take his eyes off of yours. He’s worried about you, those broad hands finding your naked hips to rub you gently. 

As your eyes travel down, his follow, landing on the bra in your hands. “I can’t fit into it.” You explain quietly, sounding so small. You feel defeated. But Din smirks a little, his warm hands sliding up over your belly. 

“Ni guuror bic.” He mumbles, the scruffy hair above his lip tickling your ear. You give him a half annoyed chuckle that makes him smile sweetly. (I like it)

Leaning forward, Din reaches for the bra, taking it from your hands and tossing it lightly to the floor. 

“Your body isn’t made to fit into clothes.” He says plainly, turning you in his arms. Facing him, you glance up, staring at your tall, brooding warrior. “Clothes are made to fit your body.” 

And then, he’s bringing you in, lips kissing the crown of your head. “I don’t want you to be upset about this.”

“But I am!” You exclaim, and Din shushes you.

“She’s sleeping.” Your husband coos, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I’m so much bigger, Din. And…” Eyeing your discarded bra, you sigh. “Nothing fits.”

He shrugs, eyes dipping down to your naked chest. “Maybe go braless.”

“Ha. Ha.” 

“Cyar’ika,” Din sighs, his loving eyes flickering between your own. “Don’t you know how amazing your body is?” (Sweetheart)

This makes you feel bashful, a shy smirk curling on your lips.

“You made a person, a mini human being!” Din declares quietly, making you laugh. “Not everyone can do that. You know that, don’t you?” 

His words make you nod, gaze dropping to your still-rounded belly. And he sees this, moving his hands to cover it, stroking you kindly. 

“It only makes sense that your body changes. This is a brand new part of life. Like a brand new you.”

“That’s just the thing.” You can barely even meet his gaze. “I don’t feel like… me.”

It takes not even a second for him to respond. “You’re a better you.”

Head snapping up, you question, “Do you really mean that?”

“Of course, I do.” Leaning down, he presses his forehead to your own. A meaningful Mando’a touch. “To say your body is beautiful doesn’t even come close to genuinely describing you.”

“Din,” You reply quietly, voice filling with emotion. For a man so quiet, he really did have a way with words. 

“How about this,” Your beloved then offers, “Why don’t we go shopping tonight instead?”

“Instead of dinner?”

“Yeah,” He nods, holding your hands in his. “I’ll buy you whatever you like,” Lifting your hands, he kisses the backs of them. “Whatever you feel comfortable in.”

“Really?!” You perk up quite a bit at this, eager to buy some new things. And seeing this makes his heart leap.

“You’re excited about this, huh?” He asks, leaning in to kiss your cheek. But you turn your head, capturing his lips instead. 

Din’s hands find your hips again, settling on the place he just loves to squeeze. “Well…” He sighs against you, “Maybe we can get some new underwear for you, too.”

“I so need that.” You groan, feeling both excited and relieved. But you’re not exactly picking up on his hint.  

“Maybe something a little fancier…” Din mumbles, peppering his lips along your jaw. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” That low voice responds, kissing your earlobe. “Like some new lingerie.” Tracing his fingers around the space beneath your chest, he hums. “Something that makes you feel pretty.”

Your husband is not a trusting man. Outside of you, he could count on one hand how many people fell into that loop. And there were even fewer he trusted with your baby. So, Vera tags along, floating in a small pram beside you and your husband. It’s closed, securing her in for the night. It was a miracle, but you were able to transfer her from the crib to the pram without her waking. The craft itself is something Din is proud of. Made entirely of Beskar, he’d been able to create it after receiving payment from his most recent jobs, missions he took before she was born. And when she grows too old for the floating stroller, it will be molded into her armor.

“How many credits do we have to spend?” You ask, knowing that the fortune Din saved during your pregnancy won’t hold up forever.

“Don’t worry about that.” His voice is metallic now, and deep, that heavy helmet shielding him from the rest of the world.

And Din holds true to his word, he really does get you everything you want. He figures if you need a new wardrobe, you might as well go all out. Din was never one for material possessions, but clearly, this is important to you. 

“I have an idea.” You offer, Din’s gaze directly on you. “Why don’t you go pick out some sets you like? And I’ll try them on, and pick my favorite.”

And Din loves the idea of that, but he’s hesitant. He glances over at the pram.

“She’ll be with me while you’re gone.” Comes your tender reassurance, hand gentle as you pull his gaze back to you.

After that, he’s quick to grab a handful of sets off the rack. It’s almost like he’d been eyeing them since you walked in. He makes sure to grab a few different sizes, too. He’s not sure what fits you and doesn’t want you to feel pressured to squeeze yourself into one if it's too tight. But honestly, the image of you in a too-tight lingerie set has him internally groaning. He’d love to see your tits spill out of the sides, the delicate fabric clinging to the meat of your hips and thighs and wrapping around your belly. Truthfully though, this isn’t about him. He’ll be happy with whatever you pick.

“You're not gonna show me?” He asks, slightly bewildered when you come out of the stall fully-dressed.

“Do you wanna see here?” Whispering your proposal, you approach him, leaning down to ask, “Or at home?”

“Home.” Instantly, he’s standing, those gloved hips reaching out to hold and squeeze your waist. “Definitely at home.”

And while Din is excited to see you dress up in this, you’re excited to see him dress down. Watching him remove his armor was always a sacred experience, you never tired of it. You’ve been together for years and you’ve never tired of it.

“You’re so handsome,” Looking up, he almost forgets that you’re watching him. “You know that?”

He still has his flight suit on, but he’s taken every piece of armor off. And, as per his ritual, his helmet was always last. Truthfully though, you enjoyed every minute of this routine. From the moment he started on his boots, your attention was his. Even if the situation wasn’t sexual, your body warmed with affection and arousal; watching him undress, watching him place the sacred pieces in their chosen spots, his body slowly being revealed. 

“You think so?” He grins, and he never smiled so much before finding you. 

As soon as he’s free of his dressings, he’s moving toward you, cupping your beautiful face in his hands before pressing his lips to your own. And then, he’s turning, picking your daughter up from her pram. Without fail, those are the very first things he does when he takes off of his armor.

“Think she’ll go back to sleep?”

“Yeah,” Din nods, swaying her lightly in his arms. “I’ll take care of it. Why don’t you go get dressed?” Grinning, he leans in to kiss your cheek. 

“Okay,” Your fingertips pet across his scruffy beard, lips curling into a smile against him.

It’s easy to convince him that you've left to get dressed, but secretly, you wait. There’s a song Din likes to sing to his daughter, one he made himself. 

Ner orikih dala (My tiny girl)

Tion’ad cuyir bid kotyc (Who is so very strong)

Ni cuy ijaat at kar'taylir (I am blessed to know)

Gar ganar ratiin cuyir pal'vut (You’ve been mine all along)

Oh, kotyc dala be pal'vut (Oh, fierce girl of mine)

A verd gar kelir cuyir (A warrior you will become)

Bal ni cuy' cyau'kuyc par te tuur (And I’m excited for the day)

Ibac ni liser haa'taylir gar viinir (That I can see you run)

In your heart, you truly feel safe with him. Like you’re meant to be here and so is he. And in Din’s head, he couldn’t be happier; he’s so proud of you and the small child you’ve made, and he’s beyond proud to continue his lineage. 

Like clockwork, your daughter falls asleep, always lulled into peacefulness by her father’s voice. And by the time she has, you’re already dressed. The set Din picked out for you is a dark teal shade, and two-pieced. The entire thing is made of see-through lace, with high-waisted bottoms and a top that dips into your cleavage quite nicely. 

And when he steps into the room, he instantly pauses, eyes going wide when he sees you. Those deep, warm, puppy-dog eyes scan your body, his hands now softly closing the door.

“Cyare…” He’s moving toward you with out-stretched arms, his hands finding your waist that’s no longer well defined. (Beloved)

“You like it?” You feel bashful. Truthfully, it’s the first time you’ve dressed like this since giving birth. 

“It’s perfect.” Wide eyes continue to roam your figure, eyeing the skin he can see beneath the thin layer of lace. “So perfect…” 

Abruptly, he falls to his knees, releasing a deep groan as he kisses your belly. His hands are falling to your hips, sliding around to cup your backside. The small gasp that slips out of your throat makes him smile, his fingers digging into your soft flesh. 

“Din, baby…” Running your fingers through his hair, you hear him sigh before he’s hauling you into his arms. “Oh,”

“Come here,” He grunts, laying you back on your shared bed. 

Immediately, his fingers are finding the hem of your lingerie, pulling the front open and watching your tits spill out from the fabric. He then shoves his face into your chest, rubbing himself into the softness of your breasts. Wiggling his pelvis between your legs, he groans, teeth nipping at the delicate fabric. His body towers above your own, covering you entirely while his hips grind into you with gentle, sensual motions. Those broad hands quickly find your hips, squeezing you so tightly that it stings. And his mouth hasn’t stopped moving over your chest, lips dragging across your skin before sucking his mark onto your chest. 

Din’s body is pinning you down, forcing you into the mattress while you wiggle beneath him, your hands sliding through his hair while your hips meet his every motion. Lifting your legs, you plant your soles on the mattress so you can encase him, surround him. With Din, sex felt primal, like he had a dire need and duty to take you, to make love to you in the most carnal way. And seeing you dressed so prettily only made him hotter for you.

“Din!” Gasping, your hands fly to either side of his face as he wraps his lips around your nipple.

“Mm…” Comes that deep, desperate moan, languidly licking over your hardened peak while massaging each breast in his large hands.

“I love your fucking tits.” He mumbles, his soft mouth moving over your flesh. “I love that they’re big, I fucking love it.” His fingers dig into you, cupping you firmly in his palms. 

The stubble above his lip and along his cheeks tickles your skin, brushing over you as he moves his lips over the hills and valleys of your chest. He mouths at them, sucking on the sides and biting wherever he can. Before leaning back, he sticks his tongue out, flattening it on your solar plexus and slowly licking one, long stripe up between your breasts.

“Oh…” You sigh out, never tiring of his tongue on your skin.

“Look at your beautiful body…” Your husband sighs, that deep and gruff voice driving you mad. “Look at these hips…” 

His hands fall to your thighs, wrapping around the expanse of them and shoving them harshly to the sides. He then lifts them slightly, his mouth diving in to suck on your tender skin. 

Seeing him so aroused from the mere image of you is baffling, his mouth and hands already making you writhe and whine. 

“I can’t believe you’d ever think I wasn’t attracted to you.” He murmurs, licking the sweet flesh of your thighs. “Do you see yourself?”

“Din, baby…”

“I want as many children as I can have with you,” He groans, licking over the softness of your inner leg. “I always want you to look like this.”

Before you can say anything more, he continues to speak, continues to work himself up. “Do you remember how full they were after she was born? Your gorgeous tits?” 

“Mhm,” Nodding, you reach down for him, watching his eyes flutter shut when your fingers rake through his hair. 

“They were so swollen… I wish I could still taste them. Oh, cyar’ika,” Lifting himself, he covers you with his body once again, diving down to your neck so he can lick and nuzzle into you. “I loved it, I loved sucking on them…” With his free hand, he palms your breast, tweaking your nipple harsh enough to make you cry out for him. “Tasting them. Your sweet milk,” Glancing down, he murmurs, “I want that again.” (Sweetheart)

The memory of Din sucking on your tender breasts makes you wet for him all over again, not that you weren’t already. It was such an intimate and erotic moment, and it happened quite often. Holding him in your lap while he snuggled into your soft breasts, his hands kneading them as he watched milk spill from the tips. He’d suck on you for however long he wanted, however long you’d let him. And more often than not, you’d wrap your hand around him while he did it, another familiar, white liquid splattering your skin. 

“Don’t you want more?”

“Hm?”

“More of my babies, cyar’ika.” He answers instantly, his voice hurried and rough. “Don’t you want to be full of it? Full of my seed? Feeling it take root and grow inside you?” He’s truly working himself up, snarling against your neck while he groans. (Sweetheart)

“Baby, of course I do.” Lifting him to your face, you can practically feel the change in him. His dominance pushing to the surface, his primal desire to have and keep you. “Please, please take this off of me.” He’s only pushed parts of the set to the side, but it still hasn’t left your body. “I need you.”

“Stay quiet.” He suddenly orders, his voice stern as he speaks to you. And the next thing you hear is the tear of the fabric he’d bought you less than an hour ago. “Be quiet while I breed you.”

“Din.” But that’s all you get out before he’s slapping his palm over your mouth. 

“Such a beautiful thing, such a beautiful body for me to take…” He murmurs to himself, leaning back onto his knees so he can tower above your body, your heaving chest and spread legs.

Staring up at the man you love, the warrior that protects and provides for you, you reach out to him. Your hand slides over his firm stomach, his toned chest, all while maintaining his eye contact. 

“Din,” You whisper, wanting to appease him. And your quiet voice does. “Give me more babies.”

For the most part, the lingerie barely covering your body is brushed away, exposing your stunning curves to him. His chest presses to your own when he returns to you, one hand lifting to hold your jaw open so he can lick your tongue, the other falling to his throbbing shaft. Shuffling forward, he glides the tip of himself between your legs, between your very center. With a small whine of impatience, you lift your hips up to him. And instead of making you wait, he surprises you, staring into your soul while he slides entirely inside. 

“How does that feel?” He groans, leaning in to kiss your cheek while your mouth hangs open with a gasp. “How does it feel when I’m inside?” 

“It’s,” Sucking in a harsh gulp of air, you swallow, eyes closing in bliss. “It’s perfect, baby. Reminds me that you’re mine.” 

Smiling, you look up to see him transfixed on you, mesmerized by your beauty and devotion. “I am,” He nods, in awe of your love. “I am yours.” 

Retracting his hips, he pulls out half way before rolling his pelvis back into you, the hand he used to grip himself sliding along the bedsheets so he can paw at your cheeks.

“And you,” Dipping down, he shoves himself into the crook of your neck, mouth sliding down your throat, over your collarbones, landing on your breasts. “You are mine.”

Already, you feel like you can’t breathe. Your head is tipped back, lips open while you pant. His strokes are deep and turning harsh. Every thrust is accompanied by a forced and breathy grunt, his cock heavy as it drags along your sensitive walls.

With his head on your chest, he sucks on you again, lips latching to your already puffy nipples. His words are muffled, praise dripping out with his saliva, his kisses becoming sloppy and wet and before you know it, you’re drenched in it.

“Beautiful thing,” He grumbles over you with a heated moan, “Sexy fucking woman.” 

“Baby, holy fuck…” 

“Do you want it?” He asked, shoving himself into you. “Do you want me to breed you? Do you want it all over again?”

“Yes, yes please. Ner verd, ner cyare.” (My warrior, my beloved)

It’s then that he pulls out and is instantly flipping you over. He loves how easy you are to maneuver, those strong hands hauling your hips into the air so he can mount you. And he does, pressing his chest to your back while bucking his hips into you. He’s stretching your sensitive lips, the coarse hair at his base rubbing over your soft skin. The soft slap of his hips against your ass is louder than he wants it to be. But he can’t stop himself, not right now. 

“I want it inside.” He’s babbling into your ear, growling before he bites it. “I want it in your womb.” 

“Please.” It’s all you can manage out, feeling him forcefully rut into you, pressing your face down into the sheets while he massages the fat of your ass, the thickness of your thighs. 

“Your gorgeous body… always ready for me.” Din groans, leaning down to speak into your ear. Reaching around, he cups your jaw, forcing you to look up at him. “Ready to bless me, to give me more offspring.” 

And then, his lips are on you, smashing to your own and feeling the vibration of your moan. He revels in it, in the pleasure he brings you. And he does mean it, every child you give him is a blessing. 

You know he’s close by his grip on your jaw, fingers pinching into your cheek while his brows begin to furrow. Pushing yourself back against him, you whine beneath his weight, feeling his muscles flex against your legs and back. And you really wouldn't have it any other way. Sex has never felt better than when you’re being dominated by Din.

His high is long, drawn out completely. Hips jutting sharply against you, spilling the thickness of his seed into your center, your very core. And you can’t help but grind yourself back against him, feeling the hand on your jaw lower to grab your right breast. Lowering his head, he kisses your neck, your naked bodies rocking together. 

“Just… beautiful.” He praises, “You laid beautifully for me.” 

“Baby,” You whine, one hand curling around to slide your fingers through his thick, unruly hair. “I love you, I feel so connected to you.” 

“We are,” He emphasizes with a roll of his hips. “We are, ner mesh’la dala. Bonded as one, you to me…” Leaning in, he gives your lips a gentle peck. “And myself to you.” (my beautiful girl) 

Without fail, everytime Din came inside you, his fingers would find themselves sliding against your walls. He’d roll you onto your back, his warm body pressing against your own. His hands would spread your legs wide, his eyes watching intently as two fingers slipping into your center, rubbing against your walls. And of course, that’s what he does now. 

“Perfect,” He whispers, kissing your forehead. “Every part of you.” 

Din just adores the feeling of you scratching his back, so while he keeps you full, that’s just what you do. It makes the fierce warrior above you melt, relaxing against you. He lays over your body, muscles flexing as he calms down, his breaths beginning to steady. His weight is comforting, not enough to crush you but just enough for you to feel him. 

“Your body is a sacred thing… you are creating warriors, cyar’ika.” Pushing his fingers a bit further into you, he sighs, nuzzling his nose against your neck, rubbing himself into the space just beneath your jaw. “I have a feeling we made one tonight.”

“Your body is a sacred thing… you are creating warriors, cyar’ika.” Pushing his fingers a bit further into you, he sighs, nuzzling his nose against your neck, rubbing himself into the space just beneath your jaw. “I have a feeling we made one tonight.” 

[brujitaadinbo]

I've been picking up some Tolkien reading again; I am a fan of his writing and I remembered some verses from the most beautiful love story for me in the entire Tolkien universe; after Faramir and Eowyn, the story of Luthien and Beren; a story that crosses all barriers for love.

So when I go back to the story of both characters; How Luthien's love for Beren is so strong (and it's a two-way connection) When Beren falls into the clutches of her captors, Luthien fights with all her might, against everyone who held her and was against her love for Beren, even her father.

How to reach your loved one to save him.

Somehow it made me remember this point and relate it to another universe that I love (and I don't care what other people say) star wars

SW has a lot of Tolkien and it is evident that its female characters exude strength, especially if the fight is for someone or something they love.

When this universe begins with episodes 4, 5 and 6 Leia develops this complicated relationship with Han, but love somehow unites them, thanks to strength and destiny.

She ends up rescuing him even when she is also captured, but her feelings make her throw herself into danger for him

Later, on another SW bridge, one of my favorite couples in this universe develops within the conflict. Kanan and Hera; a couple that I believe is one of the healthiest and best developed. Love was always his hook and compass

When he ends up being captured, Hera does not hesitate at any time to go to his rescue, convincing the entire gang that "just because they are family"

Actually; You could see Hera's need to go rescue her boy. And when she is captured, Kanan does not hesitate to find her and save her.

After; My favorite shipment appears and what I love most recently. A pair of stubborn and deluded Mandalorians, who don't know how to interact in this matter of feelings, but who unconsciously help and support each other. Bo Katan no longer wanted to know anything about this man with silver beskar, he was already resigned, but love seems to have other plans for them.

The force moved its pieces and destiny helped in this play. Din Djarin almost ended up saying goodbye to this universe but Grogu went in search of the most trustworthy person and the one he knew would help them, because Bo has a special affection for that green boy and a stronger feeling for his Mandalorian father.

And he throws himself against the danger and pain of memories and seeing Mandalore fallen. And it continues like this on constant occasions when she is able to save him and keep him safe. This is how they show affection to each other and this is how he swears that he will be close to her.

And finally; the couple that no one understands and that many do not support (but I don't give a damn, the fandom of this shipment exists and we agree that they are very good at being together) Separated by conflict and circumstance; The force has different ways of acting, but that does not mean that mutual feelings disappear, especially if destiny brings them closer again. Sabine and Ezra are in a constant struggle, even with their own feelings, but even when he is far away, she never stops thinking about him.

When the promises made are there, she sets out to fulfill them and see him again, make him come home. Leaving aside everything and sacrificing the safety of an entire galaxy; a selfish impulse but that can only be done out of desperation to have it close, love sometimes makes you act unconsciously.

The only thing you can do is let yourself go. Being captured is the only way to get to him. And that's how they find each other, they manage to see each other, even when they have to separate again.

Luthien and Beren's story is similar to many of these stories of the couples I love in SW We can agree that light, love, strength and destiny are always there to cross your paths. And they will manage to love each other (or already did) or be together in their own way.

This is the way.

[604to647]

Safest with You (Ch. 14 - The Subway)

4.8K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader

Summary: You and Din take the subway home after Boba’s birthday gala; an incident on the train requires Din to step in.

Warnings: 18+ content (MDNI please), public harassment of women (not directed at reader but includes derogatory language), description of physical force, established relationship, dirty talk, major public making out, fingering in the back of a car with a driver in the front (so a little noncon for the driver I guess), minor exhibitionism (to reader's surprise and delight), pet names as usual (pretty bird, sweetheart, baby, etc.)

A/N: An incident of harassment is briefly depicted, but neither the incident nor the aftermath are described or dealt with in depth; not because this type of thing isn't serious, but that wasn't the story I wanted to write (nor do I think I could do it justice). The victim chooses not to report and wishes to put it past her, which others are understanding of; there is no such thing as perfect victims or a "right way" to deal with a situation like that - the relevant belief reflected in the story is that we should just keep on showing up for each other as fellow human beings the best we can. Again, it's not written about in depth or with much nuance in this chapter, but better to tag and be safe. 😘

Series Masterlist

The evening breeze feels cool on your skin as you step out into the street from the hotel.  You breathe in a deep breath of fresh air and sigh happily; it’s honestly been such a lovely evening, even with the incident upstairs after dinner.  You smile just thinking about the remainder of Boba’s birthday party: dancing and drinks, laughing with Din’s friends, and Din’s ever-present attention and whispers of sweet nothings in your ear:

“Prettiest girl in the room tonight, can’t take my eyes off of you.”

“That slit on your dress is such a tease, pretty bird.  Just want to slide my hand all the way up to where I know you want it.”

“Can’t wait to get you home and out of that dress.  Show you how lucky you make me feel.”

To be honest, you’re not sure you’re ready to go home and take this dress off yet.  The last few rounds of champagne have you feeling giddy and there's something so fanciful about being about town in a beautiful gown, a handsome tuxedo clad man on your arm.  On a whim, you suggest that instead of catching a cab, you and Din take the subway home, just so you can extend this urban fairy tale feeling a little bit longer.  It’s a very tipsy suggestion. 

“Are you sure, pretty bird?”

“Yes!  I want to show off this dress a little longer,” you say, doing a little twirl, “Don’t you think my dress is nice?”

“It’s perfect, sweetheart.  You’re a dream.”

You smile gratefully at Din when he drapes his tuxedo jacket over your shoulders, but your expression turns to shock as you take in his broad frame and crisp dress shirt, “You’re wearing suspenders?!”

Din laughs, “What’s wrong with suspenders?  Too old man-ish?”

Shaking your head, you take one in each of your hands, rubbing the soft black bands between your fingers and thumbs before using them to yank him towards you, “Nothing’s wrong with them, old man.  Gives me something to hold on to.”

Din’s mouth meets yours, palms pressing down on your waist to pull you closer, so your hands are trapped between your bodies as he ravages your mouth.  After an evening of mostly sweet and chaste kisses, he is more than ready to have his fill of you; to show you with his lips, his tongue, his hands, his cock just what you and that very nice dress have been doing to him all evening.

You grapple internally with the part of you that wants to skip your subway suggestion and get home with Din as quickly as possible, and the one that wants to extend this magical part of your evening a little longer.  You opt for the option with the most public making out.  The normally short walk to the closest subway station takes three times as long; every few steps taken interrupted to allow for the increasing need to press lips together, to overlap tongues, to grip arms and waists and hold them hostage within needy hands.

On the platform, Din hugs you close as the subway arrives, bringing with it a tunnel of wind; Din holds down what he can of your dress so the fabric doesn’t blow up and instead, flutters harmlessly around your ankles.  Hair blowing gently around your face as Din looks down at you with a goofy grin, you feel like you’re in a movie.

Luckily, the subway isn’t too busy tonight and you readily find seats.  Sitting next to each other in the middle of an empty bench that runs along the side of the car, you twist to face Din and cross your legs and tuck your skirts under so the slit doesn’t cause your dress fall open scandalously.  With your right arm, you rest your elbow on the top of the seat and reach your hand forward to lazily let your fingers trail up and down the back of Din’s neck.  Ever so lightly twirling the curls at the base of his neck around your index finger, you delight in observing Din’s subtle expression of pleasure grow with every little tug.  With your left hand, you’re holding onto Din’s right suspender, slowly running your hands up and down, enjoying the feeling of security it inexplicably gives you.  You really do love these suspenders on him so much; his already distinguished look tonight elevated even more with these two black straps that snugly frame his impressive chest. 

Unable to take your eyes off the handsome man in front of you, you’re well aware of the silly, dopey look of pure satisfaction and contentment on your face.  It’s a look Din mirrors back.  His right hand is resting on the thigh of your leg that’s crossed over, ready to catch any fabric that slips from under your leg; lightly rubbing and squeezing your thigh as a reminder that he’s here (as if you could forget).  His left hand is tenderly stroking your right cheek and jaw, alternating between cupping your chin and stroking it with his thumb, and grazing your jawline with the back of his fingers. 

The two of you are in your own little world.  Eyes only for each other, sweet longings whispered only for the other’s ear, an intimate bubble suspended amidst the bustle of the late-night commute.

“What are you thinking, pretty bird,” Din asks, when you’ve been leaning into his touch on your face, eyes closed, for a minute.

Opening your eyes and giving him a playful smile, you lean forward to whisper low in his ear, “I’m trying to figure out how you’re going to keep those suspenders on when we fuck tonight.”

“Sweetheart.”

“Obviously, you’ll keep them on while I blow you.  That’s a no brainer.  Just pop that delicious cock out of your trousers and I’ll be ready on my knees with my mouth open.  No need to take off your pants or the suspenders,” you feign a look of deep thought, as if pondering a long form mathematical equation.

“Fuck.  Baby, I swear… your mouth…”

You pretend to pay him no heed, continuing with your musings, “Right.  My mouth.  Your cock in my mouth is covered.  But what about when that cock is stretching out my cunt?  How can you keep the suspenders on then?  I want hold on to them and ride you, baby, but if you have your pants on when I sink down on that dick won’t I make a wet mess all over your lap?”

“You can’t just say these things to me in public, pretty bird.”

“Why not?”

“Because I might get so riled up and snap.  Turn you over on these seats and lift up this pretty dress of yours so I can pound into your slutty pussy in front of all these people.”

Fuccckkkkkk.  You let a soft moan slip as you close your eyes and feel Din’s forehead touch yours, his slightly heavier than usual breathing fan across your lips.  You want him so much, and you don’t care if everyone on this subway knows it.  Closing the distance between the two of you, you bring your lips to his.  Gently molding yourself to the rolling plains of his body, you block out every other person and sound on this train and just melt into Din, blurring the lines of where you end and he begins.

You don’t know if it’s instinct, or just too much time in your life as a woman spent being aware, of being cautious, but out of the corner of your eye, the movement of a young woman further down the subway car from you and Din, pulls you out of your daydream state.  Din feels you stiffen before seeing it, a reversal of your roles from earlier in the evening.  You turn your head to see the young woman being walked backwards into the closed doors by the advancement of a man who’s stalking towards her, arms gesturing aggressively. 

“Din,” you whisper.

He stands at your unspoken command; following your eyeline that’s still fixed upon the girl, Din assesses the situation with his trained eye before quickly deciding on a course of action.  Gently pinching your chin as he passes you on his way down the car, he placates your concerned look, “Don’t worry, pretty bird.  Stay here.”  You reach up to hold the same hand, giving it a little squeeze before letting him go with a “Be careful please.”

As Din makes his way towards the situation, the offending man’s voice gets louder and suddenly you can hear his increasingly hostile tone and disturbing words:

“I said you were pretty.  You’re supposed to say ‘Thank you’ when people compliment you.”

“You think you’re too good for me, bitch?”

“Look at me!  I’m fucking talking to you!!”

Your heart is pounding, and you feel so deeply for the girl; she must be feeling so small and scared right now.  You know that Din is on the way and that she won’t be in any danger, but she doesn’t know that.  Din is not the only man that’s making his way over; three younger men who were roused by the ruckus join Din in a makeshift group, striding towards the opposite end of the train from you. 

“Get away from her,” yells the man on Din’s right.

The harasser looks up to see the group of four men making their way over to him, and sneers, “Fuck off, mates.  This doesn’t have anything to do with you.”

“Wrong, mate,” shouts another of the men.  Din reaches the scene first and immediately puts himself between the offender and the girl, bracing his arms outwards to maintain a distance between them.  The other three men busy themselves with surrounding harasser and containing his movements while Din asks the girl if she’s okay.  Once he’s assured that she’s not hurt and that doesn’t want anything to do with this man, he tells her she’s safe and ushers her down the car towards you.  You hold out your arms and call out to the girl; she flees into your embrace, crying.  Stroking her hair, you tell her it’s okay, that she didn’t do anything wrong and she’s safe now.  Meanwhile, back at the end of the subway car, the offender is getting more agitated, clearly not doing the smart thing and settling down.  It’s taking all of the young men to restrain him as he struggles and continues to yell obscenities: “Get the fuck off of me, mates,” “She liked it!  She smiled at me,” “All this for some dumb slut?”

Covering the girl's ears so she doesn’t have to listen to his insults, you’re watching Din reach to get a more strategic hold on the man when, in horror, you see the harasser’s spastic movements break through the arms of the young men and he comes sprinting down the subway car towards you.

In a flash, you scramble out of your seat to round the girl, deliberately sitting yourself down in the seat on her other side and covering her body with yours.  Turning your head, you see Din hauling the man back down the car by the scruff of his neck, never knowing if he even got anywhere near you and the girl before Din took control of the situation.  Din slams him against the partition next to the doors and you hear him growl, “Don’t go near her.”  From the tone of his voice, you know that Din doesn’t mean the girl who’s still trembling in your arms.  Turning your attention back to her, you continuously reassure her that she’s safe and that the man won’t get anywhere close to her.  You can no longer hear what’s being said down at the other end of the car, but you see that Din still has his hand on the offender’s chest, restraining and talking down at him; he holds the man’s now terrified gaze while the other three men form a semi-circle behind them.  When the train comes to the next stop, the offender is shoved off the train, with Din and the three men also stepping off to discourage any attempts to re-enter.  Only when you hear the announcement that the doors are closing and see Din step back on the train do you breathe a sigh of relief, letting the girl know that it’s over, her aggressor is finally gone.  She's able to give a small laugh through her tears and throws her arms around you.  You pull back from her hug only when you feel Din sit down behind you, his palm gently curling around your waist. 

“Oh, thank you, thank you.  I wasn’t even looking at him, and then he just started screaming at me!  I didn’t know what to do!  Thank you so much for helping me.”

Both you and Din smile at the girl and continue to reassure her that it’s no problem and that she’s safe now.  When she’s calmed a bit, she feels better enough to wave her thanks at the three young men that have since returned to their seats; one of the young men gives her a friendly salute and a nod of solidarity to Din.

“Will you be okay to get to where you’re going, hun?” you ask, not sure if you feel okay leaving the girl alone yet.

She looks unsure but nods slowly, “I’m the next stop.  Omigod, I thought he was going to follow me,” before her eyes start to well up.

“Do you want to report it to security?  We can go with you.  There are enough witnesses and cameras-” Din stops when the girl starts shaking her head furiously.

“I just want to go home,” she says tearfully.

You’re full of understanding and sympathy; you know Din’s thinking about it from a security protocol standpoint, but as a woman, you understand what this girl is feeling: the preference to put it behind her, to move on, to get home and feel safe again.  You look at Din and he instinctively defers to you here, understanding that there are emotions and fears that he will never truly know.

“Do you want us to walk with you?” you offer, “We don’t even have to walk together if you don’t want.  We can just hang back until you get to where you need to go.  Be there for you if you need us?”

She seems to think about it for a moment before nodding, “Yes, thank you.” 

The three of you exit the station in triangle formation and continue this way as you walk in the direction the girl’s heading.  You’re holding your skirts in one hand, your other hand clasped firmly in the girl’s, having not let go since she grabbed it when you stood up in the subway together.  Din walks a few paces behind, your personal watch dog, while you keep the girl talking and occupied with light hearted topics (reality tv shows, pets, pop music).  Finally, you reach a building that the girl says is hers, and you give her one last big hug, as well as your phone number; she gives Din a hug as well and many more thanks before going in.

Once you feel like she’s safely inside, you exhale and then turn to launch yourself into Din’s waiting arms, “Oh, thank you, thank you, Din.  Thank you for helping her.”  You love him so much; not only can you always count on him to keep you safe, but he steps up at every opportunity to care for strangers as well.

Din pulls you in tight and buries his face in your hair, “You don’t have to thank me, pretty bird.  It was the right thing to do.”

Pulling back to look at him, you need him to understand what a good man he is, “But not a lot of people would have stepped in.  In fact, most don’t.”  You hold his face with your hands, gently caressing his jaw, “That girl was so lucky you were there tonight.”

“She was lucky you were there, baby.  You saw the problem first, then you took care of her, protected her too.  You’re her hero tonight, sweetheart.”

Putting your hand in the one Din holds out to you, you smile at him, eyes shining and heart overflowing with fondness for him.  Walking back towards the subway station, hand in hand, you reflect on Din’s strength.  How he wields it without fanfare, no false bravado, just a quiet, commanding confidence.  How the other men in the subway naturally deferred to him, unquestioned.  How he took care of the whole room.  Took care of you.  He’s powerful.  Magnificent. 

Din catches you looking at him with a deep-set look of affection, “What’s that look for, pretty bird?”

“Just thinking about you and how strong you are.  So protective and capable.  You’re fearless, Din.”

“I do get scared, though, baby.  Got scared tonight on that subway. When that guy broke away and started running towards you,” he looks at you, with an almost wounded look, “And I saw you switch spots with that girl and cover her, I was afraid he was going to hurt you.”

“I’m sorry, Din.  I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Don’t be sorry, pretty bird.  You put her well being ahead of yours because that’s the type of person you are.  And I love you for it.”

“I learn from the best,” you smile at him, eyes full of warmth.

“I’m never going to let you get hurt, sweet girl.  Ever.”  Din stops walking to look at you, and you can tell he’s being serious.  You lace your hands on the back of his neck, “I know, baby.  I know I’m always safe with you.”  And you kiss him reverently, as if to seal in your trust and belief in him.

It doesn’t take long before your kisses turn passionate; the events of the evening catching up to the both of you and unleashing the long building tension and want you’ve been harbouring.  Your mouth opens up to Din and he eagerly licks in, mapping the slope of your tongue with his own; he drinks in your soft whimpers and gentle cries of pleasure, and when his mouth gives yours a brief respite so he can take a breath, you sigh, “My hero.”

Din braces his hand against a nearby lamp pole, and walks you backwards until your head rests against the back of his hand; his other curving around your waist and pulling you flush against him.  He bends to kiss your neck and instinctively, you tilt your head to allow him more access; pressing soft, breathy butterfly kisses from the base of your neck up to your ear, Din can practically feel your body pulsing beneath his hands.  You whine a little when he nibbles on your earlobe and murmurs, “How do you plan on rewarding your hero, baby girl?  Do I get to play with your pretty pussy?”

“Oh god, yes, Din,” you gasp shakily, “Please. Take me home, baby.  I don’t want to take the subway anymore.”

“No?” he murmurs against your lips, “Want me to call a car?  Or just wait until we see a cab?”

“Whatever gets us home fastest, Din,” you plead, desperation evident in your eyes and tone.

Din looks up and down the street, empty save for some local traffic with no cabs in sight; he pulls out his phone to check the cars in the area and smirks when he sees the make and model of one of the closest cars to your location and selects it. 

It doesn’t take long for the black Suburban to pull up to where you and Din are waiting; Din holding you close with your head tucked into your favourite nook under his chin, perfect for you to press the periodic kiss to his neck whenever the fancy strikes you (constantly).  When the driver confirms he’s here for Din, you look up at Din, amused, “This huge car for just the two of us?”

“It was the closest one,” he shrugs, but you catch a slight uptick in the corner of his mouth before you turn and let him help you in.  Din gently steers you past the pilot seats to the spacious third row seating far back in the car.  With you seated behind the second-row pilot seat, and Din taking up most of the exposed middle seat, you’re afforded a fair amount of privacy for the ride. 

As soon as the car starts moving, Din is on you, hands grabbing at your upper waist, thumbs pressed up to draw circles on the underside of your breasts, mouth licking your neck in hot stripes.

“Din!” you half giggle, half gasp, “The driver!”

Din moves so his body covers part of yours as he peppers kisses across your collar bone; one of his hands circle behind you while the other trails down your body, searching, “We’re all the way in the back, pretty bird.  No one can see.”

Swallowing a moan when Din’s hand finds the slit of your dress, your legs part as he starts to slide his way up your thigh, “Is this why you chose this car? To give us privacy?”

“The privacy is for other people, sweetheart.  I know if it was up to my slutty bunny, we’d be putting on a show for the driver and every car at every stop light.  Isn’t that right, baby?”

As Din’s fingers inch closer to your core, you feel yourself dripping in your underwear, so turned on by the idea of other people seeing Din have his way with you.  You hum in pleasure as Din discovers your soaked panties and runs his fingers over the fabric; he kisses you greedily, murmuring against your lips, “Such a dirty girl, already wet for me.  So ready to be fucked, aren’t you, sweetheart?”

“Oh, fuck yes, daddy,” you whimper against his lips.

Din’s fingers slide further and press down on your slit, shallow thrusting the soaked lace of your panties into your tight hole before curling his fingers up to your clit and drawing firm circles that leave you panting into his mouth.  He takes great pleasure in feeling you squirm beneath him and hearing your breathy gasps as he repeats this pattern over and over.

“Daddy please,” your eyes widen to beseech Din for some mercy.  His touches are setting you on fire, but you need more. 

Din kisses you hurried and hard, “What does my pretty little slut need?  Use your words, bunny.”  He lightly pinches your clit over your panties and your cry out at the sudden pressure.  After you hear what you think is your driver turning up the volume of the radio in the front, you whimper into Din’s neck, “Need you inside me, Din.”

“Is this what you’re so needy for, baby?”  Din pushes aside the gusset of your panties and glides his fingers through your wet folds, teasing your slit with each stroke. 

“Yes, yes, daddy.  That’s what your dirty whore needs,” you moan softly, closing your eyes and letting your head fall back on the headrest of the seat; spreading your legs further to give Din’s hand more room and full access to your pussy.

Din slides two of his fingers through your arousal, finding and toying with your most sensitive pleasure points; the ones that have you whining with desperation when he brushes over them, again and again.  “Look at my slutty bun, letting her big bad wolf finger fuck her in front of a total stranger.  Moaning like a whore for everyone to hear,” he whispers hotly in your ear as he slips his two fingers deep into your cunt, meeting no resistance with how riled up and wet you are from his filthy words.  As you cry out from the sudden stretch, Din covers your mouth with his, nibbling at your lower lip gently; a sweet contrast with the hard push and pull of his fingers.  Feeling your slick drip down his fingers onto his palm, Din stuffs a third finger into your cunt and is rewarded with the arch of your back and a barely choked out whine of his name.

Lowering his head to suck on the sweet spot on your neck, Din continues to pump in and out of you as he watches in awe as you fall apart from his efforts; your are eyes closed and mouth open, letting jagged breaths and sounds of pleasure slip while your chest heaves and your lower body grinds into his hand.  He’s never seen anything more beautiful.

Your eyes flutter open and when they focus, you make direct eye contact with a pair of eyes reflected in the rearview mirror at the front of the car.  The driver averts his eyes quickly as you gasp, half in surprise, and half from the thrill that runs through you of being watched.  It’s depraved, but you feel a fresh wave of arousal coat Din’s fingers as you clench around them, “Din, he’s watching,” you whisper.

Din’s fingers slow, and his voice is soft, caring, “Is that okay, baby?”

Oh gosh you adore him.  Even in this compromising position, both of you heady with desire, his priority is still your comfort, your safety.  You beam at him, “It’s okay, daddy.”

“Dirty girl,” he groans as he crashes his lips to your, pulling from you moans and whimpers as he resumes thrusting into your wet heat with a quickened pace.

Your tongue clashes with Din’s and your kisses become sloppier as passion overtakes your bodies.  The familiar coil in your abdomen tingles as it tightens, your entire body flushed with anticipation and desire.  Din knows your body by now and recognizes the signs of your impending release: the tightening of your walls around his fingers, the shortening of your breaths, the unfocused look in your eyes.  Right hand stretching out to brace against the side of the car while your left grabs onto the suspender closest to you, you hang on for some semblance of control while Din presses down on your clit with his thumb.  Your entire body lurches as far forward as Din’s hold will allow as he draws firm circles timed perfectly to his thrusting fingers. 

“Din, I-I-I’m so close,” you breathe.

“I got you, my pretty bun.  I got you, I got you,” Din venerates, his punishing pace never wavering; the squelching sounds of his hand driving into you over and over, only getting louder, begin to push you over the edge.

As your cunt starts to flutter, he rounds his body over yours, placing himself between you and the front of the car like a shield, growling, “No one sees you come but me, pretty bird.” 

His possessive tone sends you careening over the edge; grabbing his other suspender and pulling him towards you, you come hard.  Your chest presses against his as your body shudders, you cry so high pitched it’s nearly soundless, and you soak Din’s hand with your release.  Din slows his hand as he sees you through your high, kissing you tenderly and telling you what a good girl you are, “You did so good, baby.  Always come so pretty for me.”

Resting your head on his shoulder, you watch Din slip his hand out from underneath your skirt and bring his shiny fingers up to his mouth; he sucks his fingers clean with an obscene pop and smirks to you, “So sweet.”

Once clean, he uses that hand to reach behind you and pull his jacket back over your shoulders from where it had fallen.  Snuggling under Din’s jaw, you sigh happily as you feel him pull you closer, “I love you, Din.”

“I love you more, pretty bird,” Din presses a loving kiss to your head.  You close your eyes, boneless and pliant, curling up and resting in the comfort of Din’s arms.  You could have easily fallen asleep in your sated state, rocked to a slumber by the smooth motion of the car, if it did not pull up to the front of your building when it did.  As you exit the car, you bid the driver a soft ‘thank you’ before letting Din help you down; he pulls you into his embrace, making sure his jacket keeps you warm as he closes the door behind you.

Once the car drives off, you slip your hand into Din’s, making to walk towards the front doors, but look back when he doesn’t move with you.

“Huh.” Din’s stands in place, still holding your hand, looking down at his phone with an amused expression.

“What’s that?” you ask.

He faces the phone towards you, chuckling, “He rated us five stars.”

Laughing, you shake your head as you slip your fingers under one suspender, then slide it over to grab the other with the same hand, pulling Din in for a sweet kiss before turning to head into your building with him still in tow, “Come on, Mister Five Stars.”