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#mandalorian x y/n
jksprincess10 · 9 months
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Fix it  || Din Djarin x reader
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Summary: Your mandalorian asks you to clean his suit. Reader is someone who fixes anything and is nicknamed “Fix” in this. No physical description is given. (3k words)
CW: maskless!din with face reveal, tattooed!din, petnames (mesh’la) pwp, breeding kink, oral (f and mreceiving), fingering, manhandling, praise, lots of fluff (they’re kinda in love with each other ok)
A/N: This takes place after s2. Din still has the razor quest and hasn’t been redeemed yet.
Masterlist
Part 2
Life on Nevarro was mostly quiet for you. You had made a name for yourself as the local smith and the person who could pretty much fix any piece of weapon and armor. You were living in a tiny grey stone house, the bottom of it was your workshop and the top floor was your little nook; a tiny apartment big enough just for yourself. Your workshop had accumulated tons of foreign materials, dust, tools you had inherited from your deceased father and dirt. So much dirt. No matter how many times you cleaned the workshop, it became dirty again in seconds. Your work wasn’t the most delicate. But you liked this life.
You often met adventurers and people from the Guild; they all came and went as the moon cycles went on. They were mostly all forgettable, a mass of young people looking for a thrill and a good kill. But there was one… who stepped in your workshop a few times. And this one, you couldn’t forget about.
You finished wiping clean the chest plate you had fixed for a client when you heard the bell ring, triggered by the quick opening of the door. Your turned around and wiped your hands on your leather apron, stopping in your tracks when you saw him. The one you couldn’t forget about.
He was still broad; shoulders the size of a door, and still masked. His usual shining armor was… dulled by a substance you couldn’t quite identify. He was here. Your Mandalorian.
“Well, well, didn’t expect you so soon.” You teased, even though you were pleased by his presence.
With a heavy thump, the Mandalorian sat on the worn chair destined for your clients. You approached slowly to examine his armor.
“I found myself in a… sticky situation.” You could sense the grimace he was making under the intimidating visor. Your fingers barely touched his shoulder pads, and you discovered a slimy, neon-green substance.
“Gross.” You grimaced as you wiped your hand on your apron.
“I know this might not be part of your usual services, but do you have anything to clean the beskar? Your price is mine, Fix.” Fix was your little nickname, everyone called you like that. Not many people knew your actual name, and you were okay with it.
Mando always offered credits, but you rarely made him pay. He would always find a way to sneak more than enough credits on your stone table before he left. Last time… he even took you out to diner, well, he didn’t eat, because he couldn’t take off the helmet, he just looked at you while you engulfed what he bought you. And you had finished the night on his ship, making yourself cum again and again on his thigh as he never took off anything. He simply encouraged you, clothed hands touching every part of you that was accessible to him. That night felt like a fever dream that you couldn’t forget. You felt your cheeks heating up at the memory, and you fiddled with the large pockets of your apron.
“I do. I might have every cleaning product for every metal in the galaxy.” You smiled. You inspected his armor closely. It seemed like it was even sticky under, on his flight suit. And his helmet… you didn’t know how he could even see. “But I have… bad news.” You looked at him up and down. “I think I might have to clean… everything. It seems to be sticky everywhere. I know it’s not… ideal, but you will have to take off the whole thing, I’m afraid. Do you have a change of clothes and helmet?”
You saw how tense his shoulders got. “I don’t. Is there… any other way?”
“I’m afraid not, Mando. Can’t clean it good enough if it’s on your body. It will most likely need to soak for a while.” You went to the door and turned the sign to “closed” and locked the door. “No one will see you here. You can trust me.”
You heard a modulated groan. “Fine. Turn around.” You did, and tightly closed your eyes. You heard the shuffle of fabric, the heavy sound of beskar meeting the ground. Finally, a hissing sound. In your time having him as a client, you didn’t even dare try to imagine what he looked like under his armor. Even when you two were intimate. But there he was, so close, flesh unveiled. You pushed the thought away.
“There. Everything is on your table.” Hearing his real voice set a fire in your stomach. It was just as deep, but more… human. He felt so… real.
You took a big breath in. Out. And opened your eyes, facing the table. Tense, you took a few steps to your table and got to work. You let the suit soak first in a small basin you always filled with water in case something needed cleaning. Even touching the fabric felt inappropriate, too intimate.
“Isn’t it taboo… taking off your helmet, Mando?”
“It is… prohibited. But I am already deep in sin and on the way to redemption.”
“I see.” You took a can of product, shook it, and sprayed a generous amount on the chest plate. “Where’s the little green munchkin?” You asked as you rubbed the metal vigorously, dissolving some of the sticky substance.
“He is… away.” You heard the sadness in his voice, so you didn’t ask more questions.
“It seems to be coming off.” You said. “But it might take a while.” The beskar was already shinier and more reflective. Through the metal, you could see the hint of silhouette; tan, scarred skin, decorated by dark tattoos. “Fuck.” You pushed the armor piece away, which fell heavily to the ground, and closed your eyes. You felt a mixture of guilt and arousal in your gut.
You heard him get up; step closer.
“Is everything okay, Fix?”
“Y-Yes! You might… be more comfortable upstairs. Make yourself at home. I will call you when it’s ready and I’ll get out so you can put your clothes back on.”
The Mandalorian agreed quietly and took the stairs to your living space. When he was out of the way, you sat down for a few seconds, breathing heavily. You saw what you shouldn’t have seen. When your breathing got back to normal, you got back to work.
You scrubbed all the armor pieces until your hands hurt. You washed the heavy fabric of his suit and set it to dry under your industrial fan. Outside your door, you could see that the sun had already set. But Mando never bothered you once. He was probably used to long, quiet days on his ship.
You washed your hands thoroughly from the slimy liquid and wiped away the sweat from your forehead.
“Mando, it’s almost dry.” You shouted from downstairs. “But… before you get down here, I have… to tell you something.”
“Did you break something, Fix?”
“I didn’t.”
“Good.”
“But… I saw your reflection, earlier.”
Silence for a few seconds, then you heard him come down. You immediately closed your eyes.
“Mando, I’m still down here!” You protested. You were going to make a run for it, but you felt warm hands holding your wrists. “I’m sorry I’ll – I’ll gauge my eyes out. I… barely saw anything.”
“Open your eyes, mesh’la.”
“But – ”
“Open them. Remember what I said? I’m already deep in sin.” He said firmly.
Your eyes fluttered open and your irises adjusted to the darkness. The man was only wearing his dark underwear, he was completely vulnerable under your gaze. You took all of him in, as he waited nervously. You didn’t think you’d see a warrior like him get nervous under your gaze. Maybe he always was, and his armor hid it. You admired his strong legs. His generous groin. The scars on his stomach. His broad chest, marked by dark tattoos. His strong arms equally marked. His throat hinting at his nervousness. His jaw, dressed in a scratchy, dark beard. Plush, inviting lips under a mustache. A prominent nose.
“Say something.” He pleaded.
Your eyes met his, big, brown, and almost teary. He had dark, wild curls. You took his cheeks between your hands, feeling the warm flesh under your fingers. He was so… real.
“You’re handsome, Mando.”
He let out a sigh of relief.
“Din. Call me Din, please.”
“Come here, Din.” You smirked and pulled him impossibly closer, wrapping your legs around his middle. Strong arms helped pulling you up, hands holding your ass. You whispered your real name in the shell of his ear, and he smiled, letting your beautiful name rest on his tongue. A secret for another. You saw his physical restraint and hesitation for a few seconds, until he let go.  Plush lips met yours with extreme caution, like he hadn’t done this in a long time. And truth be told – he hadn’t, since he was a little boy. Every time he had intimacy, it was with the barrier of a helmet and partial clothing. Your hands kept him close. Din trapped you against the nearest wall, and you moaned in his lips, deepening the kiss. Butterflies were flying in your belly, making you want and love.
Clumsy hands undid your apron, and it fell to the ground. You both gasped for air, but your lips couldn’t leave him for long, and you kissed every parcel of flesh available to you. Your feet met the floor momentarily so you could undress to his level; overalls and shirt gone. He took in the beautiful, clear vision of your body, one he could see without the constant darkness of the visor.
“Gorgeous, mesh’la…” He breathed.
You felt your cheeks heating up. Your hands guided his, placing them over your breasts, which he caressed with feather-like touches.
“You won’t break me.” You said softly. “Don’t be scared, Din.”
He squeezed the flesh lightly, before he undid your bra. You slid the clothing off your arms. He pulled you back up in his arms, and you squealed in surprise when his face disappeared in your breasts.
“I want to taste every centimeter of skin.” There was this undertone of urgency, he knew your time was limited. He knew the sins couldn’t last forever. He took one of your raised nipples between his lips, sucking and nipping at it softly. Your hands found purchase in his curls, holding him close.
“Please, please, please…” You didn’t really know what you were asking for, but you wanted everything he could give. His lips let go of your raised buds, sliding up until he found your throat, where he left gentle kisses. With one hand, he got rid of your underwear. His fingers took place between your bodies. He slid two fingers across your slit, just feeling around. His index and middle fingers circled your clit, making you moan under the sudden spark of pleasure you felt. Your head went limp against the wall, mouth agape. His circles were tight, fast, until you squeezed your legs more in a silent orgasm.
Suddenly, he moved again, and your back met the cold stone surface of your worktable. Your legs laid on his broad shoulders while he kneeled, and he parted your folds with his fingers. He kissed your clit gently, before teasing it with the tip of his tongue. His hands squeezed the soft flesh of your thighs while his tongue got lost in your sweet essence.
“How did I live so long without tasting you, mesh’la…”
How did you live so long without him tasting you?
Your moans got simply louder as he circled his tongue expertly.
“Don’t stop, Din, I’m – ah, I’m so close.”
His name on your tongue was a symphony to his ears, and it only encouraged him. His moves got faster, until your thigh tried to close around his head, but his big hands were holding them open for him. You cried loudly as he lapped at your gushing juices.
“You did so good for me.” He praised in a raspy voice.
Din watched as your stomach raised and fell in labored breaths. Finally, you straightened up and slid down his boxers, salivating at the sight of his muscled thighs and raised cock.
“Wanna taste you, please.” You begged.
You got down from your table as he took off his boxers completely, and immediately met the ground with your knees. Maybe sitting naked in your workshop wasn’t the smartest move, but you didn’t care in the moment. Mando held on to the nearest wall as you greedily took all of him in your mouth, eager to taste him.
“Kriff, mesh’la, slow down…” His fingers tugged on your hair, and you let his cock fall out of your mouth completely, before licking up a stripe on his member. You watched as the strong warrior whimpered and closed his eyes. Slowly, you took the head between your lips and sucked softly. He bucked his hips up uncontrollably, pushing himself further in your mouth. You swallowed around him and bobbed your head up and down in a regular pace. You didn’t expect Din to be so… loud, but you appreciated hearing his moans without the modulator. He let you control him, until he pushed you away, out of breath.
“Am I not doing a good job?” You asked innocently.
“Stars, yes, you are. I wanna make love to you, come here.” His hands grabbed you and he pulled you back up. You wrapped your legs around him as he switched your positions, making your back rest against the cold wall.
He aligned his length with your hole, pushing slowly until he buried himself completely in you. You hadn’t felt a man like this in so long – and it was a stretch, but you it became pleasant after a few seconds, when your walls molded to him. He looked down at you, sparkling brown irises and smile on his lips.
“You’re taking me so well. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” He asked.
“Hmhm. But I wanted this for so long, Din…”
Din’s lips latched onto yours, in a delicate and slow kiss. While you were distracted with his tongue, he started moving his hips slowly.
“How long, mesh’la?” He asked as his head rested on your shoulder and he thrusted deeply. You moaned and wrapped your arms around him, scared of falling.
“Ever since… you first came here to fix your… old armor…”
“Why didn’t you ask before?”
“Thought it was… prohibited.”
As if he was punishing you, he went faster and deeper.
“There are… ways around it.”
His hands grabbed your hips firmly as he fucked you dumb, the sounds of your skin clapping together filling the room. Without any warning, you tightened around him and it sent him over the edge. He cursed as he shot ropes of his cum in your cunt.
Both out of breath, he let you down and watched as his spend trailed down your thighs.
“I’ll…. Go wash up. Come upstairs with me?”
He agreed and followed you up the stairs. You took a few minutes for yourself in the bathroom; washing down there and convincing yourself that it wasn’t a dream.
Another confirmation was when you came out of the restroom to your bedroom and saw Din laying naturally on your bed, like he had always been there. He looked so pretty like this, in the low light coming through your window. Skin painted gold, some of it scarred with symbols. You laid beside him on your bed, your head laying on his broad chest. It would probably be the last time you would feel the warmth of his flesh.
“When are you doing your… redemption?” You asked as your finger traced some of his tattoos.
“As soon as possible. Why?”
Sadness suddenly filled your being.
“So… this is the last time I can have you like this?” You lifted your chin to look at him. He frowned when he saw the tears forming in your eyes.
“Unless… you become my riduur.”
“Your… wife?”
“There is time, mesh’la. I will keep breaking things and bringing them to you. You can have me in other ways, like before.”
“I’ll… miss your face. But I know the Creed matters to you.” You smiled and caressed his cheek. “I will consider the other option, though.”
“Let’s make the most of it, then.”
Din rolled over you with a wicked smile, trapping your body between the bed and him. You squealed when he bit affectionately the skin of your neck. You looked down and saw that he was already half hard. You caressed him lazily to help with the situation as your lips found his in a soft kiss.
“Oh, by the way… I have an implant, if that matters.” You whispered against his mouth as you pushed him away slightly.
“Perfect. Although….” He caressed your stomach. “I wouldn’t mind fucking a baby into you, mesh’la.”
His words made your cheeks heat up, which made him smile widely. His hand caressed your cheek while he whispered. “Do you wanna… go again?”
“Yes.” You wrapped your legs around around his middle, his hips taking place between your thighs. He pumped his member a few times, before inserting in between your tight walls. His eyes weren’t leaving your face; he wanted to keep a photograph of your blissed face in his mind. You looked at him too, even though you were tired, registering every crinkle, every hair, every pore on his face. Din fucked you slowly, his body close to yours and his lips almost never leaving you. You memorized his scent, his voice.
Moments later, it was time for goodbyes. You watched Din as he put his suit back on, clean armor and all. The helmet hissed and took its rightful place.
“You did a great job. Thank you, Fix.” He said as he tipped his helmed towards you. You kissed the top of it with a smile.
“You’re welcome. Please… come back soon.”
He wrapped an arm around you to hug you probably for too long, before heading towards his ship. You watched as he left, still feeling filled with his warmth and love.  
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groguspicklejar · 1 year
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Beloved [Din Djarin]
Summary; He’s always been your shadow. You’ve always crossed paths with him a few times on the streets of Nevarro and he’d grown to be your friend. Maybe in your heart, he’d always been a little more than that. So when the opportunity to leave rises, you took it and you’re not sure if you bit off more than you could chew.
Please Be Warned Of: SMUT (MDNI), Angst, The Slowest Of Burns™, Sexual Violence, Trauma, Depression and Anxiety.
The Choice That Matters
The Love We Give
The Lies We Tell
The Lives We Take
The Strength We Admire
The Bones We Shatter
The People We Protect
The Ties That Bind
The Monster Within
The Demons We Fight
The Ghosts We Find
The Questions We Ask
The Truths We Find
The Vows We Uphold
The Light We Bring
The Roads We Pave
The Voices We Hear
The Fear We Face
The Dauntless Souls
The Moments We Share
The Evil We Conquer
The Hearts We Break
The Breaths We Hold
The Bridges We Burn
The Love We Cherish
The Justice Dealt
The Peace We Have
Headcannons
Drabbles
Memes
Aesthetics
One
Two
Three
Playlist
Main Playlist
Devil Doesn't Bargain
He Needs Me
Quiet Days In The Razer Crest
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reblog banner by @cafekitsune
please do not steal, copy, plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my works without my permission.
Beloved can also be found on AO3
Support my Kofi
Rip old Masterlist
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eitaababe · 1 year
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˗ˏˋ WON'T HAVE YOU ! ´ˎ˗
din djarin x reader.
this is 100% self indulgent LMAO, based off of kanej from six of crows :) (maybe ooc mando?? it's my first time writing for him lol it might be iffy)
warnings — mentions of blood / injuries, shooting, typical star wars fights
─── ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ───
You sat on Din's cot in the Razor Crest, desperately trying to get the whining green baby to sleep. Mando was off, collecting another bounty for credits whilst you were left here babysitting. It was part of the deal, after all.
He took you in for protection, and you would prove yourself useful.
Din had found you on one of his hunts for a bounty— well, more like you had found him.
You were being held captive by the very man he was after, and when you ran into the Mandalorian you quickly made an alliance with him, leading him straight to the bounty.
You told Mando little of your past, and he knew better than to push. What he did know, was that you needed out and could be a valuable assest, showing your expertise in mechanics and skilled fighting.
You would almost, dare say, consider the new arrangement, safe for you.
Which was new from what you'd ever known, always trapped and having to report back to the same place all your life. Without knowing if you had a real family out there or not, without knowing how much more of your life you'd have to live.
So yeah, you could get pretty used to this.
A sound of the hatch opening caught your attention, meeting the familiar beskar helmet. You were silent for a moment, trying to hide your excitement at his return when you noticed his limp.
"What happened?" You asked, setting Grogu down carefully and rushing to help him.
"Bounty." Came a curt response, and you couldn't say you were shocked at his cold demeanor.
You almost rolled your eyes in the vagueness of his answer, "Very descriptive, Mando."
No response.
Huffing, you grabbed a kit, handing it over to him.
"Thank you." Was his only response as he tried his best to walk normally over to a nearby table, opening up the kit.
Watching silently as he removed some of his armor (never the helmet, you came to learn), you saw him slightly lift the cloth worn underneath, a wound on the back of his torso. He hissed as he reached back, struggling to clean off the blood.
"Let me help you," you finally spoke up, being met with the stubborn look that you were somehow able to understand underneath his helmet. "Din."
At the call of his name he finally complied, handing over the clumped up rag, turning around.
With shaky breaths you dabbed the cloth in water, hoping to clean the wound up a bit before applying any bacta.
You moved slow, hesitant towards his bare side, the rag finally making contact with him. He jumped at the touch, clearly holding back any noises of pain. "Sorry," you mumbled, retracting your hand away for just a second. "But I have to clean it up before I can put any bacta on."
Finally being able to focus on the task at hand, but still moving carefully, you cleaned it up the best you could, setting the dirty towel aside and spraying bacta on the wound, practically wincing with Din anytime he jolted suddenly.
"Finished." You called out, and only when he turned, helmet almost meeting your face, then did you realize just how close the two of you really were.
"Thank you. Again." He breathed quietly, also aware of the close proximity. Neither of you daring to break away, you bath sat silently on stools, and for a moment, you swear you saw him lean just forward, his hand twitching to meet yours.
You find yourself caught in whatever trance this was, heart beating rapidly—
When the cooing of Grogu on the floor snaps you back.
"I should, um," you stumbled across your words, clumsily standing to grab the little one. "Take him. You should probably wrap that. So it doesn't get infected, or anything."
Only nodding in response, the Mandalorian stayed and watched as you walked further and further away from him, out of reach.
Once again.
─── ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ───
You go weeks without addressing anything of the situation.
You tagged along with Mando in the next bounty hunt, leaving the ship and Grogu in Peli's hands as you stopped at Tatooine.
The mission consisted of someone who was associated with the man who once held custody of you— who on a technicality, still did. And you'd be lying if you said you weren't terrified of the chance of you having to go back to that life once more, but found solace in the fact he was captured previously.
You and Din split up, figuring secrecy was best suited for this mission. Stealth was always your forte, and clearly not his. He stood out too much with the armor, of course.
So you two went separate routes to the coordinates, as you took to the rooftops and Mando by streets. You'd kept him in your line of sight for the most part, seeing him successfully locate his way.
"I'm here." You quietly called to the comms, standing on top of the roof of the supposed building.
"Going in." He replied as you watched him head into the building, you looking for a nearby latch or window to sneak in through.
Your plans were cut short, however, when a bullet hits you in the arm.
"Fuck!" You cried out, crawling over to hide behind a large chimney. The shots fired towards the bricks, debris flying. You pulled out your gun, shooting from over your shoulder, taking the sniper out. "Mando! I've been compromised!" Not bothering to listen for a response you peeked in the direction of the (now dead) shooter.
You quickly learned that there were more than one, though, when more shots were fired from a different direction. You ripped off a piece of your sleeve and wrapped it around your arm for good measure on the bullet wound, and dropped from the rooftop to behind the building, shielding yourself from sight.
"Where is she?"
"I don't see her!"
You put your gun back in its pouch, opting for a knife. You followed the voices, locating them and lurking behind before taking them out, trying to find a way inside the cantina Din went inside when you were tazed, groaning in pain as you fell to the ground.
"Did you really think you would get away so easily, little bird?"
Your heart sunk to your stomach at the familiar voice, looking up to see the very face you hoped you wouldn't.
"Cat got your tongue?" He chuckled, and you were paralyzed, unable to move as he stood over you. "I won't let you get away, not this time. You'll never—"
A simple three shots ended his rant.
"Y/n!"
Your head whipped around to meet the Mandalorian, bending over to check on you. "What happened?"
Almost too much was going on for you to process, you didn't even realize the beads of tears that ran down your cheeks. Too much that you didn't realize how the Mandalorian, the very same, stoic one who mostly only spoke to either Grogu or to say thank you, the very same one who never let you get too close for comfort, was on his knees. For you.
"I'm- I-" you breathed, the floodgates rushing open. You silently leaned into his chest, and for once, Din didn't push you away.
"Let's just get you back to the Crest, alright?"
─── ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ ───
After a brief explanation and some calming down, Peli left you and Mando in the newly fixed Crest, still keeping Grogu inside, both of you insisting not to wake him from his nap yet.
Still shocked, you sat down silently, doing nothing but staring at a wall. You were so numb that you didn't even notice Din taking out the kit, tending to your wound as you did his not too long ago. For once, the closeness didn't affect you whatsoever, the same voice repeating itself in your head over and over again.
"You won't get away this time."
You succumb to the thoughts of your head, still scared, despite knowing he was gone and who was beside you.
"Hey," Din's voice called out to you, your glossy eyes snapping over to meet his helmet. "He's gone now. You don't answer to him anymore. He's gone and he doesn't own you. You're free."
The words you waited to hear all your life don't feel as good as you thought they would.
Freedom was something you once thought was unattainable, something you dreamt of. But now that you have it?
It almost feels just as horrifying.
"You can do anything you've ever wanted to do," Din continued. "You can leave. Be free of this place, go wherever."
"I could leave?" You inquired. The thought of what you'd do now that you have a life that's your own and only yours has crossed your mind just a few times, and not in many of those thoughts have you thought about leaving Din and Grogu.
But would it be for the better?
You contemplate your decisions, would they even want you to stay? They were doing just fine on their own before you even arrived, they clearly would be just fine if you left. Figuring it was an invitation to leave you wordlessly get up, turning your back to him.
"You could also stay."
Four simple words make you stop in your tracks, and cowardly, you don't look back at him. "And why should I?"
"Because I want you to," He speaks, and after all this time, only now are you able to detect the emotion in his voice. You turn around to the beskar covered man, never seeing him look so small. "For him. For us."
For a moment you think he's talking about both himself and Grogu, but you understand that when he says us, he means you and him. And it should be heartwarming, it should make you want to jump into his arms and accept, but it only makes you angry.
"Us?" You repeat, and in a tone that chills him to his core. "There is no us, Din."
He's pleading now, and if only you could see his expression under the mask. "Please."
"And if I stay?" You push, walking slowly towards him. "How will I have you?"
"All of me."
You only shake your head, knowing it wasn't possible. "All of you, with a full armor of beskar every night. All of you, with short and meaningless conversations. All of you, with gloves on and hands I'll never get to truly hold. All of you, with lips that will never touch and a face I'll never see."
"My creed-"
"This isn't about your creed, Din Djarin," you practically whisper, scared if you talk any louder your voice will crack. And Din knows, Maker he does, that this isn't about his creed. It isn't about the armor that he's wearing but about the armor he puts up, about the space that he's put between you two and what he guards his heart with.
"If you think for a moment that this is about what you wear," you pause, and Din has never wanted you to see his expression underneath his helmet more than his does in this moment. "Then you really don't know me at all. If I cannot have you, truly have you, without the armor," you press against his chest plate with a light hand, and stuck in place, he doesn't give into the instinct to hold it.
"Then I won't have you at all."
─── ⭐️.
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neo-nomatrix · 1 year
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She’s a princess, and you’re a Mandalorian
That’s something no amount of potion will ever change
Din Djarin x reader
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summary: A princess has fallen in love with a mandalorian, and he can’t seem to figure out why
a/n: reader is from the made up kingdom of Avana
word count: 824
Mandalorians do not love, it’s simply a fact. If someone so happens to fall in love with one it would never be a princess.
You met Din Djarin when he crashed outside of the grounds of your kingdom. Villagers who lived near the gates of Avana soon started to talk about the mysterious ship that landed in the forest.
“Princess! Have you heard?” One of your mothers advisors asked.
“Heard what?”
“The ship that crashed outside, near the forest,” she said.
“Is anyone going to help?” You wonder.
“Technically, it’s not our grounds, so we don’t have to,” she finished before getting back to her papers.
How could they do that? Just leave someone, presumably helpless all on their own? You honestly thought it was horrible how they decided to just look the other way. You decided to take the matter and do something about it.
You packed a small bag with food, water, first aid, and a small dagger just in case. As you approach the ship you can tell it’s been through a lot of damage. Half of it is lodged into the ground with plenty of scratches and marks to prove its been through hell and back.
You enter through the small opening on the side of the ship, prying open the metal.
“Maker,” you whisper to yourself as you take in your surroundings.
“Hello!” Your voice echoes through the ship, yet no response.
You search through each room until you reach the cockpit. You glide your hands on the panels and intricate details of the room. Your hand grazes over a leaver that’s clearly had the top screwed off, wondering how that would even happen.
You halt in your steps as you feel the front of a blaster pressed against your head. Your shaky hands are lifted in the air as you slowly turn around.
“Who are you?” A gruff, muffled voice says, less of a question and more of a demand.
“I just want to help you,” You say, slightly scared.
“Answer the question.”
“I’m the princess of the kingdom who’s gates you’ve crashed in front of,” You say slightly aggressively.
“We have mechanics, we can fix your ship,” you mention.
“They sent a princess to look at a shipwreck? Without backup? I’m doubtful,” He says, finally putting down his blaster.
Dank Farrick, he’s got a hot voice.
“You can trust me okay? If you do, you're more than welcome to stay in the castle. Have a bed, a warm meal,” you offer.
“What’s the catch?” He wonders.
“You have to talk to me. Have dinner with me, I swear you’ll enjoy it,” you promise.
He starts to wonder why you’re acting like this. Why you’re treating a stranger with such kindness.
“Fine,” he relents.
_
You send mechanics out to the wreck and you bring the man to your castle.
“It’s breathtaking don’t you think?” You ask him as you sit down at the table, pointing out the paintings on the ceiling.
“Quite,” he murmurs.
“What are you?” You ask, taking a spoonful of soup.
“I’m a mandalorian. I’m afraid I can’t take off my helmet to eat,” he admits.
“Oh that’s alright, I don’t mind.”
“Why are you doing this? I haven’t done anything to spark your kindness, so why?” He asks.
“I don’t know why, but I seem to have taken a liking to you. One that I cannot explain. But it’s a feeling I've had since we first met,” you smile.
Love. That feeling is love. You and the mandalorian both know it.
“What will it take for me to see your face?”
“We would need to be bonded by blood.” He says.
“Hm, interesting,” you say, eating more of your soup.
“I still don’t understand. You’re a princess, I am not the kind of person you should be taking a liking to.”
“Are you saying you don’t like me?” You wonder.
“No, I’m not saying that. I’m saying you shouldn’t like me.” He says.
“But I do! I really do. And, once your ship is fixed, I’d like to go with you wherever you’re going. I know that’s a lot to say but I think it would be nice.”
“It’s dangerous. It’s not the kind of place for someone like you. There would be a point that I won’t be able to protect you. And that’s something I'm not willing to do,” he admits.
“I know you might not believe it but I don’t need protection. I do just fine on my own,” You say, but you know he’s still not convinced.
The back and forth goes on between the two of you before he reaches a decision.
“If I take, and I mean if, you do whatever I say, when I say it. No questions, you just do it. Is that clear?”
“Crystal,” you respond.
Din still doesn’t understand why you like, maybe even love him so much, but he definitely isn’t complaining.
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prettypiscesgal · 1 year
Text
Just call my name - Din Djarin
Summary: After Mando suffers a head injury, you’re quick to go help, even though he denies he needs it
Warnings: none
Listen while reading:
Ain’t no mountain high enough - Marvin Gaye, Tammi Terrell
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“Mando!” You shout, watching him lay on the ground, groaning in pain, his head was lolling back and forth as if trying to keep himself conscious.
He managed to take down the bounty, but not without taking a few blows. You watched as he collapsed on the floor once he completed the bounty. Now, you were sprinting towards him.
“Mando.” You say, collapsing on your knees beside him and shaking his shoulders. “Come on, time to get up. The kid has been whining for you.” You say, wrapping his arm around your shoulder and helping him up.
He groans as you bring him to his feet before he pushes away from you, “M’fine.” He gruffly replies, straightening himself out.
You scoff at him. He always just wants to seem so tough. You know he took a hard blow to the head, you only hope it’s not too bad. You don’t know how to treat it when you couldn’t take off his helmet. “Mando.. You’re stumbling around. Just let me help.”
“N-no, it’s fine.” He stutters out, stumbling towards the ship. “Just need to take a lil nap..”
He sounds drunk and you’re nervous. Why’d he always have to be so stubborn? “Mando, you’re not fine. And you can’t go to sleep, you could have a concussion.”
“Pfft. Concussion? Nuh-uh” You almost want to laugh at how he tipsy he sounds. He turns around to look at you, motioning to himself, “I’m in perfect condition.”
“Really?” You cross your arms, raising your eyebrows.
“Yes. Watch.” He does a couple spins, as if that is supposed to prove anything. Then, he begins to fall toward, catching himself as you reach out, ready to catch him.
He giggles to himself and now you’re really concerned. Tired of his antics, you grab his hand and drag him towards the ship. He stumbles messily behind you, trying to keep up as you drag him.
Stepping onto the ship, you throw him into a chair and go search through the medicine cabinet. The most you can do is find some pills for him to take. You hear a soft cooing and turn around to find Mando on his stomach, feet kicking in the air and he plays with the kid.
“Aww, you’re so cute aren’t you?” He whispers to the little child, rubbing his ears as it happily coos.
You smile to yourself, pulling Mando up by his cape and plopping him back into the chair. Him and the child both whine at the fact you have broken them apart.
“Okay, I found some medicine I need you to take. It’s our best option. Do you have any other injuries?” You asks, wanting know if there is something you can treat without breaking his creed.
“No, ma’am.” He replies, you can hear the smile in his voice and if makes you flush.
“I’ll leave you alone to take it then. Do not fall asleep.” You point a stern finger at him. He nods once in reply.
You pick up the child on your way out, glancing back one more time before climbing into the cockpit. You hear him mutter what sounded like, “Night, mesh’la.”
-
“Mando?” You call out. No response.
You curse as you climb down from the cockpit. You hope he isn’t asleep, but you know deep down he probably is. You just hope his helmet is still on.
You thank Maker when you find him passed out, helmet still on, but at least the medicine is gone. You smile softly, walking over and shaking him.
“Mando?” You whisper, “C’mon, time to get up.”
He groans, shaking his head in protest before turning to look at you. You give him a soft smile, thankful that he isn’t dead.
“How’re you feeling?” You ask.
“Better.” He grumbles, seeming like his old self again, “Sorry about..”
“Don’t worry about it. It’s quite funny to see the big bad Mandalorian giggling and spinning around.”
He lets out an embarrassed chuckle and you know if you could see his face he would be beet red. “Yeah..”
“I’ll go get you some water.” You say, starting to walk away before a hand grabs onto you.
“Thank you.” He says softly, the softest you’ve ever heard him say anything. Your whole face flushes at the sudden intimacy.
“You’re welcome, Mando.” You mutter back at him sheepishly, eyes trained on his helmet as if you could see his eyes from underneath it.
“Din.” He replies.
“Gesundheit.” You reply, turning to leave again and he chuckles.
“No. Din. That’s my name.” You turn back to him in shock.
“What?” You gasp, running back over to him as he stands up on wobbly knees.
“Mando, why would you tell me that?” You rush out nervously, “Is that breaking your creed-”
“Shh.” He replies, cutting you off as he holds your arms, trying to calm you down. “Don’t worry about it, mesh’la”
“You said that last night.”
“Said what?”
“Mesh’la.” You murmur, looking up at his helmet and seeing your reflection in it, “What does it mean?”
He goes silent, just staring down at you. The only sense you have that he hasn’t knocked out again is his hands, which are now brushing down your arm to hold your hands in his. You look down at the gesture with a blushing face.
“Beautiful.” He finally speaks and it catches you offguard.
“Huh?”
“It means beautiful.” He admits, bringing your hand up to his helmet and holding it against where his cheek would be, sighing as if he could feel the touch.
“Are you sure you’re not shitting me and it actually means dickwad or something?” You whisper and smile brightly when you’re met with a deep chuckle.
“I would never lie about something like that.” He whispers in reply and you feel your face heat up. “You’re a little red. You alright?”
You can hear the teasing in his voice and you roll your eyes at him, “Fuck you, Din.”
“Not what I expected to hear when you first said my name, but it still sounds so good coming from you.” He admits and you’re not sure you could get anymore red.
“You know, you should get a concussion more often. It makes you such a romantic.” You tease him and he laughs, bringing his forehead to rest against yours, the cool metal a harsh contrast against your burning skin.
“As long as you take care of me after.”
“You know I always will. Just call my name, Din.”
“I always will, Y/N.”
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multific · 1 year
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See You Soon
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Din Djarin x Reader
SPOILERS FOR SEASON 3! 
Summary: When Karga learned of his friend's return, he immediately called you to his office.
It was strange for him to call you so suddenly, you thought.
"Perfect time for you to settle down." you heard the sentence as you entered.
"You called, Greef?"
"High Magistrate...Please."
As he moved, the Mandalorian came into your view. You almost fell, you haven't seen him in a long while. Last time you saw him the Child was taken from him.
"Hi." is all you managed. You felt pathetic.
Din was just as frozen as you were. You looked beautiful. Breathtaking. You had a nice dress on, you looked like a Goddess. A Goddess sent to him by the Maker.
Then you noticed the Child and walked over, picking him up as you said hello to him as well, along with a couple kisses and hugs. The Child laughed and giggled with joy upon seeing you. 
He concidered Mando to be his father, and so, you were his mother.
Din's eyes were glued to you even when a droid came to ask the High Magistrate for help.
Once the pirates left and Mando revieled why he was there, you went back to your home. 
You knew he would be back if he wanted the droid fixed.
Couple of hours later, there was a knock on your door, you opened it only to find the beskar covered man in front of you.
"Oh?"
"I ca-We came to say our goodbyes. We are going to get a part." he handed you Grogu as he was reaching for you.
"I really missed both of you." you said smiling at the little one and at the Mandalorian. "I understand you have a mission... as always, but if you just need some food or a bed to sleep in, I have a comfortable one." 
"Thank you for the kind offer. I do not wish to take you guest bedroom."
"I didn't say it was the guest bed." you said as you looked up at his helmet. 
Jus how glad he was he had the thing on.
You handed Grogu back to him.
"Oh, wait a moment." you said before walking into your home, Din took a step forward and was now inside. "Have these. Both of you. I made them, they are sweet." you said as you handed him a box of cookies. "Be safe. See you soon."
He gave you one last nod before exiting your home.
You watched as he walked away. Watching his hips sway as he walked, you recalled what you just said as you groaned at your own stupidity before heading back into the house.
You knew you will see him soon.
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UNMASKED - D.D
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Warnings: mentions of children, kissing, allusions to sex,
Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader
Summary: you were his bounty hunting partner, and after years of fighting, you were both able to settle down, but is he ready to let go of all the rules he had learnt earlier in life?
Wordcount: 1.6k
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As you sat in the razor crest, you didn't feel the usual worry bubbling up in your chest as you pondered whether or not something was going to go wrong. 
You had spent years with him as bounty hunters, hunting down targets and getting yourself into too many battles. You had both been hurt too many times, and you were both done with that now. 
Since you two had met the child, your friendship had blossomed into something else completely. Although you had always had feelings for the masked man who was currently piloting the ship, he had only realised after the battle of Nevarro where he had nearly died that you meant something to him. 
Now, the two of you are floating through your new and improved Razor Crest with Grogu, the three of you a happy family. You both loved each other and loved the child, prepared to do anything for him. 
Your soul was at peace for what felt like the first time since your childhood, and as you watched the child sleeping in his hammock in the sleeping quarters, a smile appeared on your face. 
You wondered what the rest of your life with the Mandalorian was going to be like, whether you two were going to move to some remote planet and never be found again or if he was going to go and rule Mandalorian or if the two of you would have children of your own. 
Sometimes, you wondered what he looked like under the helmet. What his skin felt like under your hand, what colour his eyes were, the texture of his hair, whether he had a beard or not. As much as you understood that his creed made it so that he couldn’t do that, you had always wanted to see him just once. 
You were completely lost in your mind as you thought about this peaceful future where you didn't have to be constantly looking over your shoulder that you didn hear footsteps coming down the ladder. 
You only noticed he was there when you felt the cold press of metal on your neck and you turned back to look at his visor, a smile on your face. 
He had as smile on his face too even though you couldn’t see it through the helmet. He always said that you had the ability to see through the helmet like it wasnt even there, like you were staring into his soul somehow. 
“You tired?” He asked, noticing how late it was. 
You shook your head, hand coming up to brush against the smooth of his helmet, “No, just thinking,”
He chuckled and you smiled at the sound, you were one of the only people who got the privilege of hearing him so free, “That’s dangerous,” he said and you shook your head at his dumb comment, “What were you thinking of?”
“What you look like,” you said and when you noticed him tense up, you knew that the comment was a little too insensitive, “You don’t have to take the helmet off,”
He stepped back, thinking about what you said. There was a tightening in his chest as he thought about everything he was depriving you of in your relationship. You had slept with him before but never been able to see his face. You had felt his body underneath yours countless times but never been able to bury your hands in his hair, never been able to kiss his lips, never been able to see him. 
“I want to,” he said, his voice sounding almost strained, like it pained him that he couldn’t. 
He wanted to kiss you, to feel your lips against his, for you to be able to hear his voice without the modulator on, to wake up next to you without the fear that you’d see his face. 
“I understand what I got into falling in love with a Mandalorian, I made the choice,” you said, hand running down his armoured arm and grabbing onto his gloved hand, “I don’t mind,” 
You pressed a kiss to his gloved knuckles before dropping his hand and walking away to grab something. 
Din spent the rest of the evening thinking about your conversation. Sure, he had always known that if he fell in love there would be boundaries unless she was a Mandalorian but now, as he looked at you feeding the child, he wanted to cast it all off. 
The most important things to his creed was loyalty and family and as he looked at you, he knew that the rules could be bent. You looked over at him, a soft smile on your face aas you realised how tense he looked. 
You wondere whether it was your conversation earlier that had put him on edge but you brushed it off, assuming he was just being his normal brooding self and would calm down later. 
You put Grogu to sleep again after his training had worn him out and as you walked away, you felt a pair of hands on your waist. You smiled to yourself, reaching down and placing your hands over his gloved ones. 
“He’s asleep,” you said, a smirk on your face and just as you were about to turn around, you felt him nuzzle into your neck. 
You froze completely at the feeling of his skin against yours, his soft curls brushing against the underside of your jaw, his stubble gently scratching your neck and his breath warm against your skin. You whispered his name and he pressed a kiss to the exposed skin of your neck and you melted, head leaning back onto his chest. 
“The Mandalorian creed puts family above everything,” he explained before pressing an open mouthed kiss to your skin, “And if we want to have our own family,” he pressed another kiss to the underside of your jaw, listening to the soft sound escaping your lips, “Then I have to make my own rules,”
Gently, he spun you around and you were met with the sight of him, with the sight of a man that you were completely and utterly in love with and he was more beautiful than you could have ever imagined. 
You took in every single part of him, the light brush of freckles on his skin, the deep brown of his eyes, the soft facial hair that he adorned. You couldn’t stop looking at him and he couldn’t stop looking at you. 
It was different without the mask on, looking at you and he was never going to get used to it. He had never been this vulnerable before in his life but as you reached a hand up slowly, placing it against his face and brushing the pad of your thumb over his cheek bone, he knew he never wanted to put that mask on again. 
“You’re beautiful,” you whispered, the words soft as you leaned in closer to get a better look at him. You wanted to memorise every single inch of his face so that when he inevitably put that helmet back on you’d be able to look at him and see what was underneath. 
There was a shy smile on his face and you leant in closer, breath mingling with his, “I want to kiss you,” he mumbled and you grinned, biting your lip slightly as you looked into his eyes.
“There’s nothing stopping you,” was all you had to say and then he leaned in closer until your lips were pressing. His hand came up to cradle your face, the other taking its usual place on your back. 
You never thought that a kiss could display this much emotion but as you held him closer, lips moving in sync as neither of you dared to pull away for a breath, you knew he loved you with every fibre of his being. 
You had to pull away to breath, placing your forehead against his with a smile, “Maker, I love you,” you whispered against his lips and he smiled, leaning back in for another kiss. 
Now that you had him like this, you were never going to let him go and he knew that. He knew that now you were going to have the life you’d both always wanted and he didn’t have to be afraid to break the creed. 
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Happy Times
Mando x plus size reader
I’m only going to say this, Pedro Pascal’s happy trail
Warnings: HORNY THOTS, implied smut, happy trail 🫠, little bit of a size kink I’m really not sorry, degradation
WC: 708
Minors DNI
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You were fully hypnotised by the sight in front of you. Mando was partially out of his armour, his chest and thigh plates had been stripped away and were placed on his bunk. It was far too hot on this godforsaken planet for any additional layers and he felt safe enough to remove them.
He was reaching up to a panel above his head, cursing as he could quite reach whatever he was looking for. But you didn’t bother to get up and help, nope, you were perched on a small step stool, Grogu passed out next to you and Mando’s tools on your other side.
Your jaw was fully hanging open, your eyes wide, and there might have been a tiny bit of drool by the corner of your mouth. Why were you like this you may wonder? Well that’s because Mando’s shirt was ever so slightly too short on him so every time he reached up above his head, his shirt would ride up and expose a small sliver of skin just above the hem of his pants.
But even more than that, his pants were slightly too big for him so the top sagged, letting you see the glorious thatch of dark hair at the base of his pelvis. And if your eyes dropped just a little lower, you swore you could see-
“Hand me the wrench please.” His helmet was tilted down towards you and you froze. Your entire body came to light with embarrassment at having been caught ogling the bounty hunter.
“Um yeah here.” You handed him the tool and shamefully dropped your eyes to the floor, wanting to simply melt into the metal to escape his knowing gaze. 
It certainly wasn’t the first time you had been staring at the Mandalorian, in fact, you stared at him every chance you could get. Sure, he was huge, big enough to scare people away by just standing in a slightly menacing way, but he was also protective and kind. Plus his voice was sexy as hell. But, this was the first time you had been caught and it made you feel ashamed.
You gasped as a warm finger curled under your soft chin, forcing you to look up. When had he taken off his gloves? “You handed me a screwdriver. You seem distracted, mesh’la, what’s going through that pretty head of yours?” A shiver of desire rolled down your spine as he towered over you, his massive body blocking the light from the setting sun.
Suddenly, there were no thoughts left in your brain besides him. You could almost feel his smirk from behind the shiny metal of his helm. “I wonder what has you so preoccupied? What could possibly be making you so dumb that you gave me a screwdriver and not a wrench, like I asked for?” His tone was so condescending, it made you feel even smaller but there was no true malice in it.
His hand slipped from your chin when you didn’t answer him, instead he cupped your jaw with his massive paw, squeezing just tightly enough to make you gasp. “When I ask you a question, you answer me.”
“Y-yes Mando.” You stammered out, your thighs squeezing together at the pure dominance and power he radiated. He rewarded you with a gentle stroke of his thumb along your jawline.
“That’s a good girl.” He purred as he bent down so his face was level with yours, only a few inches of perfectly buffed metal between you. “Now are you going to tell me what was so distracting or am I going to have to pry it out of you?”
Hundreds of images flashed behind your eyes, each one more smutty than the last as you imagined what exactly he could do to you to get you to talk. Wetness pooled between your shapely legs, soaking through the flimsy panties you wore. “I think you want it the hard way but I need to hear you say it. Beg for it.”
You swallowed thickly, the words getting caught in your throat. Another squeeze freed them. “Please Mando, I want you so badly.” A modulated frown came through the speakers of his helmet before he spoke again.
“Good girl.”
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spectorgram · 2 years
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celebration
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din djarin x f! reader summary: din finds out it’s your birthday. notes: pure fluff, maybe a little suggestive at the end word count: 1.9k
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“Where’re we off to this time, Mando?” you asked as he returned to the Razor Crest, a tracking puck in hand. The Child squealed upon his arrival, wiggling in your arms and reaching for his father. You chuckled softly and handed him off to Mando.
“Naboo,” he replied, holding the Child on his hip. “The quarry’s stolen from some powerful people.” The puck projected an image of a slight woman, hair long and lank, and her eyes sunken in. “Darmari Gilvale.”
“Let’s head off then!” Mando nodded and you two made your way to the cockpit. He strapped the kid into his seat behind the two of you, and you settled into the co-pilot seat.
The stars whirled past you as you flew through the galaxy. Luckily, Naboo wasn’t terribly far — no need for hyperdrive. As you cruised along, Mando asked, “Are you excited to go back?”
You can’t believe he remembered. You had mentioned it in passing that you lived in Naboo for a while before you had made your way to Tatooine, where Mando had met you while you worked with Peli. “Yeah,” you replied, smiling at him. “It’ll be great to feel a planet with moisture.”
You heard him let out a breathy laugh through the vocoder and you felt your cheeks heat a little. You weren’t really sure when you had started falling for Mando. You hadn’t even seen his face, for Maker’s sake, but it didn’t matter. You knew who he was — reliable, sturdy, and kind, something few people in the universe really were. You knew how you felt, but unfortunately, you never knew what he was thinking or what to make of moments that seemed like they held some meaning. Little, lingering touches, when he looked at you from behind his helmet for a moment longer.
You landed in Naboo rather quickly, stopping in one of the open, grassy fields just outside the city you had once lived in. As you exited the ship, the Child in your arms, you sucked in a greedy breath of air. Naboo always smelled so fresh and clean, perpetually breezy and temperate, a nice contrast from arid Tatooine.
On every planet you stopped in, you liked to stretch your legs before Mando had you go back inside so you and the Child would be safe while he went after a quarry. “How long do you think it’ll take?” you asked.
“Not long,” he answered. “Said she headed into the forests here, so it shouldn’t be too difficult. I’ll probably be back before sundown.”
“Stay safe, Mando.” He nodded and went to head off into the forest ahead of him when you both heard a loud rumble. Mando glanced back at you, and you stared down at the kid. How could someone so tiny produce that big a sound?
“Someone’s hungry,” you said and Mando nodded. “Let’s go into the city, get a quick bite to eat, and then you can hunt the quarry.” With another nod, the three of you turned in the other direction and made your way to the city.
The city was just as you remembered, lively and bustling. You pointed right and said, “There’s a nice cantina there that serves good bone broth.”
“Sounds perfect,” Mando said, taking the lead this time. The cantina was buzzing with conversation, patrons chatting over drinks and warm meals. There was a lull when you all stepped inside, customers turning to gawk at the Mandalorian. As you settled into a table, people seemed to lose interest as they resumed whatever they were doing beforehand. You lifted the Child from his pram, situating him between you and Mando. You pet the top of the Child’s head as he stood on the seat, straining to see over the tabletop.
You heard someone call your name, and you grinned when you saw Celgra approaching you, hands on her hips. “As I live and breathe,” she said, beaming at you. “Haven’t seen or heard from you since you took off for Tatooine!”
“Sorry, things have been a little hectic.”
She waved you off. “I get it, don’t worry.” Celgra noticed Mando and the Child and she raised an eyebrow at you, half-questioning, half-suggestive. “Who’re these fine folk? Your husband and kid?”
“No, no!” you replied quickly, glancing at Mando who was staring straight at you. “No, this Mando and that’s the Child — they’ve been my traveling companions.”
“I see,” Celgra said. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Mando just nodded and she turned her attention to the Child. He smiled and cooed at her, and she said, “Well, aren’t you just the cutest thing? Need a highchair for him?”
“Actually,” you said, “that would be great.”
“Let me first take your orders and then I’ll get to it.”
You ordered one of their salads and Mando got some bone broth for the Child. “Nothing for you?” Celgra asked Mando and he shook his head.
“Can we also get some broth to go?”
“Of course!” Celgra chirped, “I’ll be back with that highchair.”
She turned to leave and then she seemed to remember something, adding, “I almost forgot — happy birthday!”
You laughed a little, “Can’t believe you remember that.”
“Mind like a steel trap,” she said with a wink and she went off to go get your orders and the chair.
Mando turned to you. “You didn’t tell me it was your birthday.”
“It’s not important,” you said. “Seriously, I haven’t celebrated it in forever.” It was true. When you left Naboo and went to Tatooine, you never brought up your birthday to Peli. You weren’t lying when you said it wasn’t super important to you — it was just a marker of time, like any other day.
Still, Mando seemed almost… guilty that he didn’t say anything. “If I’d known…”
“Mando.” You reached across the table and placed your hand over his. His helmet followed the gesture. “I’m totally okay. Really.”
He didn’t seem quite convinced, but he dropped the subject for now as Celgra returned with the highchair. You strapped the Child into it, and he seemed satisfied now being able to see the whole cantina.
“Happy birthday,” Mando said, and your heart fluttered a little.
You offered him a soft smile. “Thanks, Mando.”
Celgra came back shortly after with your orders, handing you a baggie with a container of broth in it. You and the Child finished your food, and your little group made your way back to the Crest. “Stay safe,” you told Mando again as you started to head into the Crest.
“I’ll do my best,” he said and you startled a little. He never really replied to your request, only giving you nods. You watched him turn and head towards the forest, trying and failing to not admire the broad expanse of his back or the self-assured swagger to his walk.
The Child giggled in your arms, staring up at you as if he knew what you were thinking, and you gave him a playful frown. “Hush.”
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Evening had arrived, and there was still no sign of the Mandalorian. As you and the Child munched on some rations stored in the ship, the take-out bone broth you had gotten Mando sitting untouched in his seat, you glanced anxiously out of the Crest’s front window. He said he’d be back by sundown; your detour into the city’s cantina hadn’t been long, so where was he?
Another fifteen minutes went by and you were pacing the cockpit, chewing on your lip and rambling to the Child, who — from the furrow of his little brow — seemed equally concerned. “He’s totally fine, right?” you asked. “He said it would be an easy job, so maybe he just got lost?” The Child gave you a slow blink and you sighed, “You’re right that doesn’t seem very Mando-like, does it?” You looked out the window again, the sky hued in indigo and fading sunset orange. “Dank farrik.”
The whoosh of the door to the Crest sounded and you glanced at the Child. It could be Mando, or it could be some intruder. It wouldn’t be the first time some had tried to ambush you here. Grabbing your blaster, you crept out of the cockpit and into the hull. Taking careful, deliberate steps, you made your way towards the door.
Relief flooded you as you saw Mando dragging the unconscious quarry behind him, hauling her towards the carbonite freezer. He stuffed her in, freezing her in the block. There was something in his other hand that you couldn’t make out.
He finally turned to see you, looking at the blaster in your hand. “Were you going to shoot me with that?” he asked, sounding mildly amused.
“Didn’t know who was coming into the ship.”
He nodded and you took a deep breath. “Where were you?” you asked, finally letting your frustration and worry out. “I— we were so worried about you! You said that this wasn’t going to go beyond sundown and yet here we are, and it’s evening! Kriff, Mando, what hap—”
He lifted up the unidentified object in his hand, and replied quietly, “I went back into the city.”
You gawked at him. “With the quarry?”
He snorted, “No, left her knocked out and tied to a tree at the edge of the forest.”
You blinked at him and decided to ask, “Why’d you go back?”
He motioned for you to step into the cockpit, where the Child had managed to pull himself up into Mando’s pilot seat, trying to break open the container of bone broth. “Hey,” you chided, picking him up despite his squirming and wiggling, “that’s for your dad, bud.”
“You got that for me?”
You nodded. “Since you can’t take off your helmet, I just thought…”
You wondered if he was smiling at you when he said, “Thank you. I appreciate that.” Then, he handed you the bag. “It’s for you.”
You tilted your head curiously, opening up the bag to find two small boxes. You took out the bigger of the two parcels and opened it, staring down at the small cake that had ‘Happy Birthday’ written out in icing on it. “Mando,” you said softly, “you didn’t have to.”
“I know. I wanted to.” He motioned to the small box. “That’s for your birthday too.”
“Mando…” You opened it up, gaping at the opalescent pendant winking back at you. You looked at him. “This is… this is so thoughtful.” You weighed the necklace in your hand and stood, placing the cake on your seat behind you.
You drew the necklace up to your throat, and then Mando said, “Let me.” He took it gently from you and moved behind you. His fingers, gloveless, brushed against your nape and you shivered involuntarily. When had he taken them off? You had seen Mando’s hands bare only once before, and you were never quite able to shake the image of them — big and square, long tapered fingers, golden skin. They were strong and reliable, just like your Mando.
You gulped as he secured the delicate clasp, feeling the cool press of the pendant against your clavicle. He didn’t move as you slowly turned to face him, staring up at his helmet. “Mando…” you breathed out.
“Din,” he said softly. “My name is Din.”
“Din.” You savored the single syllable on your tongue.
He rested the forehead of his helmet against your own and murmured out, “Briikase gote'tuur, cyar’ika.”
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Translations: Briikase gote'tuur — happy birthday Cyar’ika — darling, sweetheart
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Text
Stars Collide; Star-Crossed
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Summary: Their love was an unexpected journey, a clash of two different worlds. Din Djarin, the skilled bounty hunter, and the young Jedi with a powerful heritage. Together, they embarked on a quest to protect the galaxy and one very special child, learning to trust each other and discovering a bond that transcended their differences.
pairing: Din Djarin x afab!Skywalker!reader
warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, possessive!Din, powerful!reader, Jedi!reader, Grogu being adorable, Grogu loves his Ma more than his buir.
Chapters
000. — the prologue — [As the dust settles, Din can't shake the weight of an indescribable feeling. A feeling that he's done something he can never make amends for. Little does he know, fate has plans to intervene and an unknown ally is on their way to his aid.] 001. — the force of nature — [As a bounty hunter, Din has completed his mission, however, he is unbeknownst to the storm that will knock the wind out of him, literally.] 002. — the battle for the baby — [Din and his partner fight as one, their expertise unrivaled as they battle the Imperial agents. Their unwavering determination to protect the Child drives them forward, overcoming every obstacle with fierce resolve.] 003. — the escape — [Din and his partner, along with the droid and the Child, find themselves in a tense standoff with the guild leader Greef Karga. With blasters drawn, they stand united to protect the Child at all costs.]
☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.
☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.
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moiravim · 11 months
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Found part 2
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Dad!Din Djarin x Teen!GN!yn part 2
Summary: Din bonding with his children; Grogu and YN.
it had been just a few days since Din had taken you in. He was quiet at first but slowly started warming up to you.
One of the first things you noticed about him was how protective he was of you. He took you and Grogu's wellbeing very seriously.
You had gotten sick and are currently in 'bed rest'. It was miserable. You were sweating and your head was aching worst than you'd ever felt before.
You could tell Din was stressed by the way he was acting. He wouldn't let you get up and would do everything for you. He was already like this, but now that your sick it's ten times worst.
He babies you but you just want to get back to normal again. You've been bored out of your mind.
Grogu and you had become close friends. Although you were very different, you both shared a father figure. That was the main cause of your sibling-like relationship.
It was also nice being around someone who wasn't an adult. Someone you could play around and get into trouble with.
You room was very small and had a mattress placed in the corner along with a few toys scattered and a basket of clothes. A few hours ago Din had tucked you and Grogu in bed and the two of you were supposed to be sleeping.
But currently you and Grogu were playing catch. Grogu was using the force while you played how you used to see other kids play.
Din walked in to check on you and when he realized you were playing he said; "Hey, stop that. Grogu, you need to save your energy. And YN. your supposed to be sleeping. Go to bed." He says as he takes the ball from you.
You frown and lay back down. "How much longer?" You ask in a miserable voice. He looks down at you and responds; "just a few more days. It'll go by faster if you sleep."
You nod your head and close your eyes. Din grabs your blanket and tucks you in before picking up Grogu and leaving the room.
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jksprincess10 · 10 days
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Fix it part II
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Summary: Din Djarin promised to break more things to bring them to you. After many moons, he comes back - with another woman, and Grogu. You're furious with him, but your patience is eventually rewarded. (3700 words)
CW: two idiots in love, Din is a dumbass, Bo Ka-Tan is kind of mean, fast paced romance, angst, fluff, reader has a nickname related to her work (fix), jealousy, canon divergent, unprotected p in v, oral (f & m), come eating, tummy bulge I guess, fingering, pet names in mando'a, praise kink, squirting, marriage.
Catch up on part 1 here.
Divider by @saradika-graphics
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“I will keep breaking things and bringing them to you.”
That’s what he said. Many moons ago. You kept hoping, counting the days since he last came. You knew he was gone to get his redemption. Maybe he had run into some trouble… Or maybe he had found another woman, more worthy of being his wife, elsewhere.
So, you occupied your days. You fixed an old ship that a past costumer left as payment, hoping to make it fly some day. Hoping to go through the galaxy to find Din Djarin. Maybe hope was futile. And maybe you were a hopeless romantic. But you thought he truly liked you.
You were stuck in your daydreaming when the bell announced someone coming into your workshop. You had expanded it since the last time, business was booming, and you could now park a full ship in it. You came out from under the ship you were fixing up, your exposed skin dirtied by grease and various substances. You wiped your soiled hands on your apron, leaving a trace of grease on it, before looking up to see who had come by. There was a woman with short red hair and a square jaw. She wore Mandalorian armor.
The woman gave you a disgusted look and you were going to greet her rudely when you heard the familiar heavy steps of your Mandalorian. Your chest tightened. Was this his new woman?
“Fix, I hope we’re not bothering you.” He said as he looked around. “I see you extended your workshop. It’s nice.”
There was a third person, little steps behind him, and you looked down to see Grogu. You gave him a smile and approached Mando, totally ignoring the woman with him.
“Always have time for my favorite client.” You looked up at him, clearly remembering the pretty brown eyes and the beautiful face under the helmet.
The red-headed woman sighed loudly. “If you’re done flirting, I need you to fix my jetpack. Can you do it?”
“Of course, she can.” Cut Din. “You can, right?” He added quietly.
“I’m rebuilding this whole ship, so I don’t think a jetpack is a tall order for me.” You took the object from the woman’s hands, a bit roughly. “Do you have anything to pay, ma’am?” You asked through gritted teeth.
She handed you a small bag of credits, that you grabbed.
“This will do. Now, I don’t really like having strangers around when I work.”
“Lady Kryze, why don’t you watch the ship for me?” Din asked, and you’re thankful that he did.
“Of course. Please don’t take too long.” With that, she was gone, and you finally felt like you could breathe again.
You dropped the jetpack on your worktable while Grogu stood curiously next to you. You took the little creature in your arms and put him on a stool next to you, so he could watch.
“You seem tense.” Noticed Din in an awkward tone.
“I guess I just didn’t expect you to come by after many moons with another woman.” You said as you opened the jetpack. You noticed that a few parts were burnt. You turned around to look at Din.
“It’s not what you think.” The Mandalorian rushed to say, gloved hands up in the air as defense.
“Yeah, so what is it then, Din?” You asked, your fists against your hips to restrain yourself from punching him.
“Just a friend, whom I’m helping. And who helped me redeem myself.”
“Ah, so it is done, then. I’m glad I had news from you.” You responded sarcastically.
Grogu let out a worried coo, like he was witnessing his parents fighting.
“Listen, it’s not that I didn’t want to…”
You turned around abruptly to examine the parts you would need, purposefully ignoring Din. Nothing you had on hand. “I can’t fix it right now, I’m afraid I will need some replacement parts.” You changed the subject.
“Tell me what you need, and I’ll get it for you.”
“Yeah, and you’ll come back after how many cycles, Din? How long will I have to wait for you?” You hated that your voice cracked when you were upset. You heard him come closer, and you felt his gloved hands on your shoulders. The leather felt heavy against the soft fabric of your work clothes.
The Mandalorian hated seeing you heartbroken because of him. He didn’t know what to say and wasn’t good at all with feelings. He just knew he should have stayed with you.
You felt your body fall in his embrace, his arms tightening around your shoulders to keep you close. You felt the heaviness of his helmet resting against your shoulder.
“I’m sorry, mesh’la. Please, come with us. I promise I won’t leave you anymore.” The modulated voice was shaky.
You turned around in his embrace and pressed your palms against the lines of his helmet where his cheeks would be. You could almost see his eyes. Well, you imagined them.
“I’ll come with you and fix your friend’s jetpack and then what…?”
“Then, we will do whatever you want.”
“I thought you wanted to reclaim Mandalore…” The rough pad of his gloved fingers wiped the tears away from your eyes. You almost forgot Grogu’s presence, until he made a sound that you could only attribute to sadness.
“I can’t do it if that means staying away from you and breaking your heart.”
You were going to respond when you heard the bell from the door. You stepped away from Mando and you observed the woman in Mandalorian armor, visibly impatient.
“So, can you fix it?” She asked in an annoyed tone.
“I’m afraid I’m missing some pieces. I have a contact on Tatooine who deals with a lot of recycled Mandalorian armor parts. He comes by once every cycle maybe… but it would be faster for me to get to him. He will be able to help us.”
“Fine, get your things and let’s go.”
You didn’t like being bossed around, but you stayed silent. They waited for you outside with the child as you gathered the essentials for a short trip, and you changed out of your dirty work clothes. You put your pack on your shoulders and went outside to follow Din and the woman.
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The silence in the ship was heavy and awkward. So much so that you disappeared in the back of the ship to play with the baby. The woman – Bo Ka-tan – made you feel uneasy and unwelcomed. You wished you were only with Din in this moment.
“Are you hungry, mesh’la?”
You lifted your chin to admire your Mandalorian standing over you, his towering and intimidating stature turning you on more than anything. Maker, if you two were alone in that exact moment…
“Not really. I think I’ll just rest, but I can feed Grogu if you need me to.”
“I’ll take care of him.”
“Where… do I sleep?”
“Take my cot.  We have two. I won’t go to sleep in a while.”
You nodded and you gave Grogu back to Din, who soothed him delicately in his arms. Din leaned down and bumped his head slightly against yours, which you could only interpret as a kiss.
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The cot was a tight space and once the door of the minuscule room was shut, it was plunged in deep darkness, which made it easy for you to fall asleep. You woke up only when you heard the door slide open and felt the weight of a body next to yours.
“I didn’t mean to wake you up, sorry.” Apologized Din when he heard you moving around.
“S’okay.” You slurred, half asleep.
It was so dark; you couldn’t even see his silhouette. You could just feel it. Your hands felt around the minuscule bed until you found the strong shape of his body. Instead of being met with cold beskar, your fingers felt the warmth of his skin. You traced his bicep until you found his neck, then his cheek. It was still scruffy, like you remembered, his unkept beard still on his chin and lower cheeks. You heard him chuckle slightly as he threw an arm around you to bring you close.
“You’re trying to rediscover my body, mesh’la?”
“Yes. I missed it. I missed you.”
“I promise we’ll get married, and you’ll be able to see my face every day.”
“You make a lot of promises.” You whispered back, before bringing his face closer to yours. Your noses bumped together, and you finally found his lips. You abandoned yourself fully to the mercy of his mouth, letting him guide you in softness and lustfulness. “Please don’t tell me you’ll marry me only because you like having sex with me.” You said playfully against his lips.
“I genuinely love you, mesh’la. Don’t want to stay away from you anymore.”  And you believed him.
“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum (I love you).”
“You’re learning mando’a? We’ll work on your pronunciation.”
“Well, I had to occupy myself in one way.” You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you.
“You’re so special, Fix.”
You rolled over so your body was on him, your thighs straddling his waist. You already felt his arousal through the thin layers of fabric you both wore. You rolled your hips slightly against him. You heard him sigh, and you could imagine him lips parted, head relaxed against the hard pillow.
“What do you want, Din?”
“Whatever you think I deserve after leaving you for so long.”
“Be careful what you wish for.” You whispered as you lowered your upper body so you could kiss his jaw with rough hair growing there, his strong jaw, his thick neck. You sucked lightly on the skin there, imagining red staining the gold of his skin.  His hands held your lower back, and you heard him sigh again. You missed how vocal Din was when you were alone, but it would be for another time. Your lips traced his chest, following an invisible line until you met with his groin. You used both of your hands to take off his underwear. Your fingers wrapped around his girth, lowering his foreskin so you could kitten-lick his leaking tip. You heard him whimper softly, and you took this as an encouragement as you closed your lips around the head, hollowing your cheeks to put more pressure and suction. When you got tired of teasing, you lowered your head, taking more of his cock in your mouth, until your own hand stopped you. Your hand wrapped at the bottom of his girth slid up and down as you sucked the rest in your mouth.
“Kriff… you’re so good at this.”
You sucked a few times, before taking him out of your mouth, licking his length before you said. “I know.”
 His hands closed around your jaw so he could pull you up and kiss you. You undressed yourself, barely breaking the kiss. Din switched your positions, his large body a shadow in your vision. Din’s lips latched onto every parcel of skin he could find, until they wrapped around one of your nipples, making it hard as he popped it out of his mouth. He gave your other one a similar treatment as you writhed under him, keeping your mouth closed to keep any sound from coming out.
“You’ll have to be very quiet.”
“I know.”
You felt his fingers spreading your lower lips, as he used the tip of his tongue to find your clit. You bit your lip as you squirmed under him. You were so wet, it was ridiculous. But after all those nights of touching yourself and thinking about him, he was finally yours again. As he sucked on your small bud of pleasure, one of his thick digits entered your slicked walls.
“You’re so wet, I could just put all of my fingers in.”
You let out a noise between a moan and a struggled squeal.
“You’d like that?” He whispered, hot air hitting your wet core.
“Stars, Din, get to it. I want you inside. Please.”
Din chuckled darkly as he entered a second finger. He started moving them at a fast pace he knew would make you see stars. You were trying to be quiet, but the tiny room was filled with your obscene wet sounds already. You wrapped your arms around his neck, holding on to him as you felt your orgasm hit you.
“Please. Please fuck me, Din.” You asked desperately.
His fingers left you empty, and you wrapped your legs around his waist as he entered your walls slowly, stretching you deliciously.
“You’re so tight, mesh’la.”
Your feet pushed against him so he could enter you deeper and deeper. Once entered to the hilt, he started snapping his hips back and forth, setting a slow, but powerful pace. You hid your head in his neck, letting your moans echo against his warm skin.
“Faster, please.”
His upper body left you, and you felt him grab your thighs to secure you as he fucked you harder, using you like you were his personal sex toy. Your upper body was limp, moving in waves with his harsh thrusts. When a moan escaped your lips, he stopped moving.
“Told you to be quiet.”
“I’m sorry Din, please don’t stop…”
You felt him leaving you empty and craving. You wanted to cry. But before any tears rolled down your cheeks, he laid beside you and turned you to the side, one of his strong arms over your body and his palm resting over your mouth. He shushed you, his free hand resting on your hip as he slipped back inside. The angle made him feel somehow even deeper, and you knew he could feel how tightly you were choking his cock. You bit on his palm to muffle a cry, but he did not protest. You could hurt him as much as you wanted in return.
“There. My good girl.” He whispered.
He fucked you deep and slow, the hand on your hip coming down to your mound, two of his thick digits circling your clit as the rest of his giant palm put pressure on your lower stomach. You could almost feel him there, he was so big.
“Give me another one, mesh’la.”
White stars replaced the darkness in your vision as you exploded around him, spasming and trashing as an intense orgasm took over you. It felt like you wanted to pee, and come at the same time. But it felt so good.
“K-Kriff…” Din cursed under his breath. “You’re making a mess.” Drunk on you, he followed closely, erupting between your walls. “Stars, come here.” Before you could protest, the man pulled away and brought your hips close to his face, fingers digging into the meat of your thighs and forcing you to sit on his mouth.
Flustered, you stuttered: “D-Din…”
He licked the mixture of your juices off your sweet pussy, making obscene slurping sounds. His hold on you was so strong, but you tried to pull away. “T-Too much…”
“Sorry.” He let you lay down against his chest, and you pressed your lips against his. He let you taste the potion you both made on his tongue.
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Once arrived on the planet with a desertic landscape, you met with your contact, Jafan Typho. A man with a white beard, and kind, wise eyes, who lived in a garage-like house filled to the brim with junk.
You gave him a written list of what you needed as he eyed wearily the two imposing people with you (and the green little thing).
"Who are these... friends?" The man asked.
“I’m her future husband, this is my son, Grogu, and this is Lady Kryze of Mandalore.”
You almost choked on air at Din’s words, and you stared at him. You imagined his amused, teasing grin.
“I see.” Jafan responded. “Stay here while I get what you need.”
Bo Ka-Tan sighed, annoyed. She clearly was excited for this trip to end.
“What is our plan after this?” She asked as an attempt to make a conversation with you and Din.
“We go back to my planet so I can fix your jetpack. I’m thinking it won’t take me more than a day… Then… you’re free to do whatever you want.” You shrugged.
“Then, I will go back to Mandalore with our friends on Nevarro. You’re free to follow, or not.”
Din looked at you expectantly, but you looked away. All that you knew was always on Nevarro. Leaving… would mean leaving a part of your family legacy behind.
“I’ll think about it.” You said with a smile. You felt Din’s gloved hand grab yours, and you enlaced your fingers.
Jafan came back with a few pieces in hands. “There. Will you still be there when I go back to Nevarro, Fix?”
“I… don’t know.” You admitted. You exchanged the parts for a generous pile of credits. “But feel free to come by.”
“Okay.” The old man shook your hand, and you all thanked him silently as you went back to the ship, Grogu waddling behind you.
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“You really are doing this backwards.” You let out as you’re crowded in the small space of the ship’s washer with Din.
“What... Do you mean?” He asked, distracted by your hands on his naked, tattooed chest. He put his hands on yours and looked at you with those adorable puppy brown eyes. You could see glimpses of him in the dark, and even though he called himself your future husband, he insisted on keeping the lights closed.
“You haven’t even asked me to marry you officially, and you’re already calling yourself my future husband.”
“Okay, then.” Din rolled his eyes playfully and pulled you closer. “Be my riduur. Please.”
“Finally. Yes.” You squealed and kissed him, long and slow.  “For someone so traditional… one would think that you would do things in order.”
“Maybe I lost my brain somewhere while I traveled.”
“I know where you put your brain.” You kissed his jaw, his throat, as you went down slowly on his body, your hands following the sharp lines of his muscles.
“Yeah?”
Once on your knees, you kissed the tip of his cock with a sly smile.
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You wiped the sweat off your brow as you finished fixing the jetpack. You tested a few buttons and satisfied, you brought it to Bo Ka-Tan, who sat silently in your workshop, while Din was away, making arrangements for your union.
“You know I do not care for Din Djarin in that way, right?” She asked after clearing her throat.
“I would not blame you. He’s an attractive man.” You put the jetpack in her hands. She looked at it attentively, it seemed like new.
“I do not think of men that way.”
“…Oh. I apologize for making assumptions.”
“You’re fine. Thank you for the quick repair.”
“You’re welcome.”
You thought you hallucinated when you saw a smile on Bo Ka-Tan’s lips, but you were perfectly sane.
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There was a small crowd of Mandalorians in various types of armors amassed in the covert. You were wearing a light dress, and not the conventional attire. Din was in full armor, beskar shining under the low lights. Bo smiled encouragingly at you, as you exchanged vows in Mando’a, repeating after the armorer. Your pronunciation was not perfect, which made you chuckle nervously. But Din held your hand and encouraged you. As he repeated the vows back to you, the deep rumble of his modulated voice gave you shivers.
You laid your head against his helmet in an intimate gesture, even though you couldn’t wait to tear off the helmet from his head.
After a celebration, you brought Din back to the apartment on top of your workshop, thankful of the other mandalorians taking care of Grogu for the night. The sun was almost setting, but you could see his golden skin in the sunlight. It felt even more special now that you were his.
“This couldn’t end any quicker.” You said, breathless, between languorous kisses. You almost tore off each other’s clothes, and you stopped for a few seconds to admire Din’s face in the sunlight after you took off his helmet. “There. My handsome man. I missed your face so much.” You cradled his scruffy jaw between your hands, and you kissed his pouty lips again and again, until he groaned in annoyance and pushed you on your bed.
“You will see this face so much; you’ll grow tired of it.” Your riduur settled between your hips, legs over his broad shoulders as he leaned down to kiss the sensitive skin of your thighs.
“I doubt it.” Your fingers settled in his curls, and you pushed him closer to where you truly wanted him. His nose brushed over your mound, then he spread your lips to gain an easier access, before drowning into you. He lapped and sucked messily at every piece of skin he could access, his head moving to the side as he ate you out with his whole body. “K-Kriff, Din…”
He whispered your name against your wetness, like a quiet prayer, before latching his lips onto your clit, alternating with sucking, and leaving quick licks. “Taste so good, mesh’la…” He said when he came back for air, after diving in again, like a man starved.
Your back arched, your hips bucking uncontrollably against his face as he kept going. His soft, brown eyes were on your face as he watched you coming undone, again and again, until overstimulation. You pulled on his hair and asked him to stop in a tired voice. His lips moved slowly up your body, stopping sometimes to latch onto a parcel of skin or a nipple. 
“Can I make love to you, my riduur?” He asked reverently, and you never wanted him to call you something else again.
“Yes.”
Din slicked his cock with your juices, before diving his tip slowly into your hole.  You held his gaze, wanting to engrave somewhere in your memory this particular moment.
“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum (I love you).” He said as he bottomed, his hips flush with yours.
You barely had time to respond, before he started thrusting in and out of you at a slow pace, like you both now had the whole time in the universe.
“Where do we go after this?” Din asked as he stilled to look at the remainings of the sunset reflecting on your skin.
“I will follow wherever you go, Din Djarin. So we’re never apart again.”
His fingers laced with yours as he felt happiness so overwhelming he could not bear it. A soft kiss. Another promise. And you would fly wherever he was needed.
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groguspicklejar · 1 year
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The Questions We Ask [Chapter Twelve]
Summary: You come to find that the Mandalorian doesn't make empty promises. Unfortunately for George and the people who jeopardised your safety, those promises threaten their very existence.
Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader
Warnings: Violence, mentions of SA and trauma caused by SA, Protective!Din, George (let's be honest, he's a warning), mentions of Brexlee, blood, soft!Din, Helmetless!Din, Depression, self deprecating thoughts, Angst, Grogu being adorable, toxic relationships, mentions of child abuse.
Word Count: 6.6K
A/N: Took me so long to write this. I'm not very good at fight scenes, so I kept a lot of it short. Thank you guys again for all the love and support❤️💐 p.s– I'll be watching The Mandalorian s3 very soon to catch up with our favourite father-son duo✨
Chapter Nine, Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven
Masterlist
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There is an ache in his chest.
Din thinks his heart is already preparing to grieve. It's a silent howl in the forest. He can't calm down. He cannot stop the clamour rattling in his chest, howling and thrashing and begging for you.
That crippling fear he felt on Sorgan comes back with a vengeance. This time, it clings to the nightmare he’s had. His feet move as fast as he can, but it doesn’t seem to matter how many steps he takes. You were nowhere in sight. You were out there, struggling and freezing. You were out there, most likely bleeding. Stabbed or shot or both. Din doesn’t know.
He doesn’t know if he’ll ever see you again. The uncertainty scares him more than having to face any danger on his own. The thought of being without you threatens to unearth from beneath the crevices of his armour.
It looms from deep within his soul. The loneliness, it seems, never truly leaves him unless you are with him. He doesn’t know if he can face it again. He will never be at peace knowing that it will always be there, waiting to devour him in your absence.
He makes sure the kid’s pod sticks close. It is sealed shut, protecting the little green baby inside. He knows the kid’s still awake and is most likely anxious about what is about to come. Din does not like the idea of bringing him right to the middle of the battlefield, but he has no choice. He doesn’t trust anyone in that town any more than you do.
 He’s running toward the sounds of blaster fire. Every echo strikes something in him that leaves a smoke trail of fear. He prays that none of those bolts end up embedded in your flesh.
There’s danger lingering in the air. Din is used to it. Years of hunting down some of the most despicable souls out there made him somewhat immune to the idea of death. He cannot, however, bring himself to envision the same for you. He cannot accept the idea of death claiming you. Not while he still breathes.
Din trudges through the snow as fast as he can. Blaster drawn and ready to aim anything that poses a threat to you and the kid. And chaos is what he finds.
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Mere Minutes Ago.
“Cyare?”
You were being followed. There was someone else in the woods and they were following you. You are not sure if that was the proverbial sixth sense speaking to you or if you were just paranoid. Either way, someone was tailing you and it was not the Mandalorian.
“Cyare, talk to me. What’s going on?”
The sound of a blaster stopped you dead in your tracks. It stares you dead in the eye, smoke coming from the hollow barrel. And the person holding it seemed just as eager to end you as it did.
You smell the burnt stench of wood bark. She had shot the tree next to you.
“Take another step and the next one goes right between your eyes.” she warns, halting your every move. “Drop the communicator.”
Your jaw clenched tightly. The small device was the only thing connecting you to the Mandalorian, to Beetle. Your whole life. Resistance floods your veins for a moment.
“Don't make me repeat myself.”
“Marshal Vanda.” you struggle not to stutter in her presence, obeying her order. The communicator sinks into the snow.
She sighs deeply as if this is the last thing she would rather be doing. “You know, I actually thought that by the time the Mandalorian leaves, all of my problems would be fixed.”
You remain silent.
The irritation on her features grates you the wrong way. You’re not sure how to react to it, lest she shoots you for ruining her plans. “I thought he’d go back and help me get rid of the thugs that have been plaguing my town. I thought I’d have to overlook the fact that there were three bounties just waiting to be collected on your heads for the sake of my people.”
Now that is what sparks your rage. You burst out before you can really think better of it, “You claim to be this benevolent saviour yet you work with the likes of George Celwik.”
Her expression hardens. “I’m aware of the blood on his hands and the lives he has ruined merely for his amusement.”
You wonder how she could claim to be looking out for her people while she strikes a deal with a devil like George. You were not even aware of how they came to know each other and although you want to ask, you know it’s not relevant. “Then why?”
“A means to an end.” she simply states, the fingers on her blaster flexing slightly. “I wanted to protect my people. I hope you can understand that. Your bounty alone would’ve done more harm than good if you stayed long enough.”
“So you burn an entire inn with your people in it instead.” you sharply return, the fury melting the chill in your bones. “The people you so desperately want to protect are being caught in the crossfire because you wanted to be rid of me.”
“That wasn’t my idea!” Zaria bursts, taking a step closer. “But the casualties would’ve helped in persuading the Mandalorian to stay a little longer to find the gangs who have been poisoning my town. I had hoped that even if Celwik had taken you, he’d stay to help me fix this mess because Mandalorians seem to have a soft spot for children.”
It doesn’t help ease your apprehension. You’re sure it shows and it irks her. If your judgement makes her ashamed, good. You hope she chokes on her guilt. You hope she realizes that she did more harm than good by inviting that serpent into her town under the pretence that he was going to help her.
“But he didn’t, did he?” your voice is soft, condemning.
“No…” she solemnly confirms. “What I wasn’t counting on was his love for you.”
There’s something in your chest that shatters and it is devastating. You don’t know what spills out of the cracks, but it weighs down on your soul and sinks to the bottom of an abyss. It’s a quiet kind of sorrow that cripples you.
For a second you want to believe her. You want to think that the Mandalorian feels that way for you. The way you could’ve only hoped anyone would’ve felt.
That raw, single most catastrophic feeling floods the heart until the body cannot function without it. 
For so long, you wished Brexlee could feel that way for you. You tried to pretend that he did for a while until it wasn’t enough anymore. Until he hurt you the way he did. You tried to give it time, tried to do everything in your power to make him stay with you, to make him loyal, to commit to you and you alone.
You dressed up. Wore more make-up. Cooked more of his favourite meals. Ran his errands. Spoke less. 
Not a damn thing worked. It wasn’t enough. Nothing ever was.
But when you think about the Mandalorian, about how he risked everything to save the child and somehow bring you with him, something surges up from the depths of your broken heart.
You remember the tenderness in his caress when he holds you close, the soft reverence in his voice when he speaks. You remember when he took off his armour in front of you, letting himself be vulnerable in your presence. It dawns on you that he never would’ve done that with anyone else. Only you have that privilege. Only you.
When he allows you to touch him, you know that it is as close to divinity as you’ll ever come to. Nothing will ever compare to the honour of having his trust in the cusp of your hands. You cradle it the way you would hold Beetle to your chest, nestle it close to your heart and never let go.
He is out there right now. Tracking you down. As he promised, he is scorching a path through the thick snow to find you.
You want to dig your heels and stay exactly where you are. You want to wait for him right here. Elation sings in your bones at the thought of seeing him again.
You barely had any time to react before a shot pierced her arm.
“Get 'em, boys!”
Several shrieks are all you hear before you take off. Blast fire rings everywhere and you do your best to get away from it. You barely glance behind as you do and it seems one of your nightmares has come to life.
Bandits, it looked like. They were all teeth and knives and blasters blazing in the thick of the cold forest. You wonder if they were the same ones the Mandalorian was hunting. 
You don’t get very far before one of them blocks your way. His teeth glint as brightly as the dagger in his hand. “Where do you think you’re going?”
Your skin prickles with fear. He throws the knife between his hands. Back and forth, the steel gleams and silently terrorizes you. He takes a step closer and you take a step back.
“I think I’ve seen you before.” he says, twirling the knife between his fingers. “Pretty little thing you are, aren’t ya?”
You don’t respond. Eyes wide and glancing about to see if you’ve got anything to use against a Devaronian twice your size and his weapon. You have nothing besides the snow beneath your feet and–
Wait…
The flash charge.
“Where’s your Mandalorian, huh?” he jibes, grinning from horn to horn as he takes another step.
There’s another one behind you who asks, “Kriff, is that the Marshal?”
Your hands are shaking. You want to escape this mess but you are aware that if you don’t get it right the first time, it might just be your only and last attempt. Before he could even think, you close your eyes and activate the charge. Behind your eyelids, there is nothing but dull light and you hear a piercing cry. You keep moving, hoping you don’t bump into anything through squinted eyes. You keep your vision away from where the charge was shot.
You hear them yelling in your wake.
“What the kriff was that!”
“Where’d she go?!”
The worst one was the one who got the brunt of your attack. You know for sure that the flash charge burned him in the worst way possible because he was wailing about how his eyes hurt. There’s a part of you that does feel sorry for him.
But you think better of having sympathy for those who seek to harm you. This is the consequence of his bad intentions.
When you’ve run far enough from where the light was, though it has now faded, you open your eyes and charge forward.
Just by Maker’s intervention or simply dumb luck, the bandit in front of you bursts into dust.
Dust. He doesn’t drop into a heap. Doesn’t fall on his back. Doesn’t even make a sound of distress. It all went by too fast for either one of you to even react. No wounds. No bruises. No cuts. No black blood splattering on the tree bark and the snow. He just… poofed into ash. The knife he held dropped into the snow.
You’re so disconcerted by the sight that you screamed.
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He didn’t mean to frighten you. Only the bandits. The vile men who want to hurt you.
Din felt the sick satisfaction rush through him when the Devaronian dissipated into ashes right in front of you. His only regret was your blood-curdling scream. He doesn't have time to dwell on it before the rest of them swarm upon him like a hive.
He sets the pod to move away from him before he gets to work. There are more who stay than run. The ones who don’t value their lives hang back to try and fight. One by one, each dies by rifle, knife or fire. He barely glances to see you hiding behind a tree before a bullet bounces on his pauldron. He does his best not to get shot where the armour doesn’t cover him.
Another blast rings behind him. He finds another rat dropping at his feet. The one who shot him was someone he least expects to be here.
Deputy Tenyl Khan joins the fight. He barely sends a nod before finding himself in a scuffle.
It’s a bloodbath. Those that save themselves are far and very few, but there are still enough of them to make his ears ring with adrenaline. Most likely on their way to the nearest spaceport.
Another bandit disintegrated with frightening accuracy. Din hits the closest criminal with the butt of his rifle. The next one puts up a fight, but it’s hardly a match. His opponent’s knife merely grazes his armour and ends up with a vibroblade in his stomach. It ended as quickly as it began.
“Let me go!” He’s startled by the sound of your voice. Din doesn’t hesitate to draw his rifle once again, ready to shoot at whatever is a threat to you.
When the commotion dies down, he’s only left with one more obstacle. A wave of dread freezes him right where he stands when he finally comes to terms with what he’s looking at.
George holds a blaster under your chin while his other hand firmly clasps around you, restricting you from running. You’re breathing harshly through your nose, keeping your head held high as George backs away with you.
“Put the rifle down, Mando! Or she dies!” he yells. “Put it down!”
He’s backed into a tall tree. Two to one. Blood oozed from his forehead and stained the locks of his blond hair. Green eyes, wild and heated with desperation as he looked around for a way out that did not involve him getting shot dead.
There wasn’t a way out. Not if Din has something to say about it. On top of that, he wasn’t about to allow George to take you with him either. Not when he’s come this close to having you in his arms again.
“You’re outgunned and outnumbered.” The Deputy speaks, rigid as he moves to one side. “Don’t be stupid. Let her go.”
He’s surrounded. Din stands in front, staring right at you. He hates having to point his rifle in your direction. You’re trembling. Frightened and distressed. The exhaustion set in your bones was suppressed under a thick layer of adrenaline. It was nothing like the picture in his mind, of you, of his nightmare. But it was close enough.
You’re heaving in shallow breaths, but you’re still alive and well. There’s a nasty bruise on your face that he’d like to tend to. Your body temperature is most likely lower than it should be. He should get you somewhere warm. Preferably the Razer Crest. Where it is safest. Once the three of you are in hyperspace, Din can start working on every wound that has been inflicted on you while he was absent.
He shouldn’t have been absent in the first place. He’s been away for too long. He should’ve gotten to you sooner–
“You should’ve just left her on Nevarro, Mando.” George chuckles darkly. “Would’ve been a lot easier for both of us.”
Din disagrees on that last part. He watches silently as the man jerks you around when you fidget. A quiet rage bubbled underneath with each waking moment.
There were countless quarries that had captured and capitalized on when he was working for The Guild. Many of them didn't deserve to be sent to their doom. Din earned the right to choose his own bounties because of the stories he's heard. Innocent men, women and children being sentenced to death by hunters and their clients.
He didn't want that on his conscience. That's why he picked the worst of the lot. Bail jumpers, murderers, predators, all the ones he wouldn't give a damn about when he pulled the trigger.
But you?
You were no quarry. Your only crime was being the daughter of a man who only saw you as a broodmare. You did not deserve to be hunted down like some animal and held at gunpoint.
George made the mistake of believing so. He was as good as dead the second he put his hands on you. The same goes for everyone else who took the job. 
“Is she really worth all this, hmm? She that good in the sack?” The barb burns something deep, making his jaw clench tightly. “She must be. Heard she drove Brexlee to the point of insanity because he couldn't get enough of her. Always had to have his hands on her, whether she liked it or not.”
Din's ears trickle sharply at the words. The small blinks in your tearful eyes, the way your gaze shifts away from his…
Did he hurt you? His own voice rings back to him. It felt like so long ago since he asked that question. It was a request to glimpse into your life without him. Or rather, an excuse. A valid reason to execute the man who mistreated you.
The first night on Sorgan comes back in flashes. Soft touches. Fingers laced between his. Low candlelight. Din's own heart thundering perilously in his chest because you were so close to him. So close, so vulnerable.
He asked that question because he needed to see, to know if he was going to live with an ocean of guilt flooding his chest every time he thought about how he didn't take a chance with you sooner. How he could've saved you the trouble of being with that scumbag.
He stops breathing.
N–no.
The tight smile hid a lie he should have never ignored. He should've pushed. He should have dug deeper because he wasn't sure then. He is now and the ocean crushes his soul.
Beside him, Tenyl brazenly speaks up, “Drop the blaster, Celwick.”
“Not until Mando drops his rifle.” George sneers, shifting you back when you squirm against him, pressing the blaster harder against your skin. “Or I blow her pretty little brains out.”
Din freezes. His mind forces him to imagine it. The blood in the snow. Your body, cold and lifeless. Bile rises up his throat because he cannot bear to see that image unfold. An inexplicable, volatile monster nearly forces its way to the surface to prevent that thought from turning into yet another reality.
He won’t take the risk. The imminent threat to your life is too great.
Slowly, the rifle is lowered. But it does nothing to ease the heart rattling violently in his chest. So long as that blaster is still pointed at you, Din won’t relax. Not for one second.
“That’s right.” George goads, eyes gleaming with victory. “Easy does it, Mando.”
“Mando.” Deputy Khan warns beside him, but he ignores it. He has to.
“Drop your weapon.” Din responds to him instead.
Tenyl doesn’t immediately react to the order. Din wants to go over to him and knock him down for not listening, for increasing the risk on your life. He doesn’t.
He won’t look away from you. Too afraid that if he does, you might just vanish and slip right through his fingers again and this time, he won’t be able to find you. He’s going to choke on his own blood-stained sorrow if you are not in his arms soon.
However, the Deputy lowers his weapon with a heavy sigh and a hardened mask. Din’s breathing comes a little easier. Your expression softens ever so slightly.
“Good.” George nods. “Now here’s what’s gonna happen.” Din clenches his fist when you whimper as the man taps his blaster on your temple. “I’m taking her with me.”
“Forget it.” Din spat.
“Oh, I’m sure you can find a new slut to take care of your needs in hyperspace, Mando.” Your bleary eyes slowly blink, closing as the blaster pressed firmly at your cheek, digging into your teeth. “This one’s already spoken for.”
Your shaky voice speaks up, “You might as well shoot me right now.”
“Cyare!” Din sharply barked, trying to dissuade you, but you began to struggle against your captor.
“I’m not going anywhere with you–” You're a caged bird, thrashing against the bars. Frantic and afraid. Tears in your eyes, but still fighting to get out. Din fears you might hurt your wing while trying to escape, or worse.
“Hey!” George barks immediately, keeping you still. He seethed harshly into your ear as you grimaced.  “Play nice, Sweet Cheeks. I don’t wanna have to return damaged goods to my buyer.”  He glanced at Din, faint amusement lining his features as he continued, “But since Mando’s already had a taste, I guess it’s a little late for that. Bet your fiance’s not gonna be happy about that.”
Another blaster clicks. This time, it’s not Din’s or Tenyl’s or even the one held so close to your throat. “Drop it.”
The Marshal is pissed.
She breathes deeply through her nose. Her face sports a few cuts and bruises, probably from being ambushed by the men that had attacked you. There’s blood on her sleeve. Her hair, wild and dishevelled. She looks like she is fighting the intrusive thought of just pulling the trigger. Din almost wishes she would, if it were not for the chance that it might trigger Celwick’s blaster.
A dark chuckle escapes George, not even bothering to turn his head to face her. “My, how the tables have turned…”
“Don’t make me say it again.” She jerks the nozzle against his head, the same way he had done to you.
“Zaria.” He grits his teeth, face hardening. “You’re making a big mistake.”
“I don’t think so.” she counters quickly. “Most of those scumbags are dead. Those that remain are all on the run and those that remain are smart enough to get off this planet, which means Mando did his job.” She has the audacity to smirk. “I have no more use for the likes of you.”
The irony of her words is not lost on any of you.
“I knew you were too much of a goody two shoes to join my ranks.” he scoffs.
“Let her go and drop your weapon, Celwick.” she orders and when he does nothing, her eyes narrow. “Don’t make this harder on yourself.”
“You think Mando won’t come after you just because you’re putting up the hero front, hmm?” George remarks smugly, laughing when the Marshal falls silent. “You were in cahoots with me to steal his little pet. He’s not letting that go–”
“Do it!” she hisses, abruptly cutting him off.
Din holds his breath, waiting for a shift in the tides. His hand tightens on his pulse rifle. He was already preparing himself to use it one more time.
For a minute, no one moves. No one makes a sound. Tension hangs in the air and haunts everyone present.
And then, for some miraculous reason, George makes his last mistake.
You’re shoved to the side. You land on the snow. Din does not think. He saw an opening and he took it. His finger is on the trigger faster than he can breathe. Several shots ring and echo into the forest. Eight in total. Two from Tenyl. Two from Zaria. Three from Celwick.
And one from Din.
Suddenly, there was one less person in existence.
Dark ashes floated and fell like snowflakes onto the ground. Din’s mind was numb for a split second as he stared almost in disbelief. There was one less man out to get you. And he was responsible for that. He did that.
He heaved out a sigh of relief before turning to look at you.
You were still on the floor. Trembling with hands over your head as you were curled up into a ball to shield yourself from the spray of blaster fire.
Din goes to you, his head ringing from the fact that this nightmare was all over. You were still alive, still breathing. Up until now, he had to face the possibility of living what was left of his lifetime without you and that was not something he was willing to accept.
He kneels and reaches you, finally–finally…
You’re startled when his hands grasp your shoulders. Wide eyes staring right at him, heavy, shaky breaths heaving in and out. There was terror in your soul and it seeped through your clothes like water and stained his gloves and his armour when he embraced you.
“Mando…” you cried, burying your face in his cowl. “You found me…” your voice trembled as your bones did and it frightened him as much as it thrilled him when you kept mumbling– “You found me, you found me, you found me–”
He did. He did find you. Just like he promised. He didn’t fail you this time.
“I’ve got you, Cyare.” he croaked, nearly choking back his own tears as they threatened to drown him. “I’ve got you.”
He’s not letting you go this time. Not for anything. He rooted his fingers into you. Tightly. Deeply. Anchoring you to him. As if parting with you will kill him.
After all of this, it might as well have.
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“He said that you beat him up on Nevarro.” you quietly ask him, noticing the way his shoulders tense. Your hand cupped the side of the helmet. “Is this true?”
He doesn’t answer you immediately, focusing on wrapping the white cloth around your wrist. He’s gentle, careful not to do it too tightly, but makes it firm enough to stop you from losing any more blood.
There’s a certain honour to his actions. He does the task with the same kind of respect that can be seen when he’s cleaning his armour. He holds your wrist as if it is made of Beskar, like it is meant to be valued by high-ranking officials of the universe.
Something in your stomach flutters as you quietly regard him, relishing the care he takes in looking after you. The adrenaline in your blood is dispelled by his presence and your shoulders finally ease down. The assurance of having him around you quietly whispers, telling you that you are going to be okay.
“Looking back on it now, I realize that I’ve made a mistake.” he finally speaks. “I should’ve killed him right then and there.”
You’re not sure whether to be frightened by his confession or laugh. But a warm smile etches across your lips, your tone softly teasing, “Mando, how long have you been looking out for me?”
It does not come as a surprise when he doesn’t immediately answer. His visor faces anywhere by your eyes and it makes you aware that you’re making him nervous.
Finally, he says, “Since the day we met.”
Your smile drops. The quiet shock in your eyes is clearer than the waters of Naboo. You’re sure his confession sparked a glimmer of stars in your wounded soul. Lighting their way through your darkest hour.
Now it makes sense. Even if you hadn’t seen the light –his light– it was always there. Showing you the way. Directing you to better paths. Guiding you out of an abyss.
Be a little more careful around these streets. The next person might not be so forgiving. He had told you this the first day you met.
Brexlee is bad news. A warning you should have taken heed of, but a warning nonetheless.
You are not a liability. Even though you’ve always felt like one to him, it feels nice to know that he doesn’t think so.
Little moments like this you’ve rarely had with anyone else. He’s been right there for you, even when you thought he wasn’t. This is more than what you’ve gotten from anyone. If the price of devotion was steep, you are to pay it in earnest, and you are overjoyed to have it reciprocated.
“I’ve…” He's struggling. You can tell as his helmet tilts downward, unable to hold your gaze. “You’ve always been…”
Your heart takes the form of a never-ending storm. Like blue flames scorching through the darkness. Uncontrollable and untamed. You will never understand how a man with few words can undo you so aptly when you’ve spent nearly your entire life plagued by those with endless false promises.
But he speaks. Although it is silent, he still makes his own promises. Unbreakable vows that fill your chest with something that never fails to numb the ache left behind by those who have wronged you. He speaks with his actions. The hands that brought chaos to so many others could never seem to harm a single hair on your head.
You look down and you smile. You’ve heard enough. This was enough for now.
“I know who sent the bounty.” you confided softly instead. “On me, I mean.”
Somehow, this was a lot easier to talk about. The danger. The bounties. The lives you were both running from. For all of the chaos you’ve endured and how reluctant you are on reliving it, it felt much better to air it all out, rather than talk about what this thing hanging between you and the Mandalorian was.
He looks up in surprise and waits for you to continue.
“George wasn't taking me to Nevarro.” Your hands fiddle together. “He was taking me to Naboo.”
Vast oceans. The smell of salt in the air. Your mother’s soft humming lulling you to sleep at night. The taste of jogan fruits. Laughter in the house, in the shop. Your mother’s toolbox opened as she shows you all the different parts of a droid and how each one works.
You almost want it back now. But you know you would have to trade it for the life you have with the Mandalorian. Actually, no. That’s not even correct. You wouldn’t even be living with your mother and uncle. Your father won’t allow it this time.
“I guess my father sealed whatever deal he's made with the highest bidder, even in my absence.” You weakly shrug with an empty voice. “I wonder what he'll do once he finds out that I'm not pure anymore. Used goods won't fetch a fair price—”
“Hey.” he sharply interjects, gloved hands cupping your cold cheeks to make you face him. “You are not used goods. You are no one's property. No one's.”
Your eyes stay fixed on his visor while your heart threatened to burst inside your ribcage. “Not even yours?”
The silence that follows is nothing like the cold that surrounds you. It is stifling, terrifyingly warm. He makes a sound under his helmet, you weren’t sure if he was saying something or if he was choking.
“I…” The touch of his gloves faltered on your skin. “I don’t consider you to be property.”
You know this. He has made it abundantly clear to you since the day you met. And he has hardly given you any reason to believe otherwise.
“But since you are travelling with me, that means…” he hesitated, but your breath stuttered when he steps closer. “You are mine to protect.”
You cannot deny the warmth that floods your cheeks. He is a dream you never want to wake up from. The ocean you would like to drown in.
A slow smile breaks through your lips. You tipped your forehead against the top of his helmet and sighed as his arms wrapped around your waist. You sink into his embrace with no resistance, revelling in his strength. Everything slows and you know, you just know that nothing will ever compare to this feeling.
This is the part that screws you over. Because you don’t want it to end. You don’t want to slip away from him ever again. Not like the last couple of times. Or any other way. But you know that there will be something after the other, so long as those bounties still stand.
How long until your next separation? Is it going to be permanent this time?
You don’t want those questions answered.
Not soon after, when the snow starts to fall again, you quietly feed Beetle while the Mandalorian speaks to Deputy Khan. The Razer Crest had been fully restocked with items you were sure weren’t poisoned and heated up to melt away at the chill in your bones. You’re sitting on a storage box in the cargo hold with the baby on your lap, glancing at both of them.
Beetle has been babbling endlessless since your return. He clings to you as you pick him up and carry him, nuzzling his little face in your neck. He threatened to cry when his father wanted to take him. As much as you were tired from all the violence, you missed him too. You didn't mind him much because he just wanted to be close to you.
“Your reward.” Khan hands him a briefcase, no doubt filled with a large amount of credits. “It looks like you scared off the rest of the bastards who were poisoning the town. We’re closing down their base of operations right now.”
“The old factory.” Mando says.
“That’s the one.” Tenyl confirms with a nod. “Those bastards were systematically picking off and abducting people and killing them off in that Maker-forsaken place.”
“And the Marshal?” you spoke up, surprising both men. Their heads turned to you and you shrink, wanting to disappear.
“In a holding cell.” Tenyl replies sadly. “She turned in her badge.”
To your understanding, she was a good friend of his. He couldn’t understand why she would jeopardize everything and everyone she has ever known and loved the way she did. Granted, she was trying to save the town, but there should have been clear judgement in her mind when it came to how she went about it.
Some people just don’t know the difference between saving the world and destroying it.
“She…” He paused, taking a few steps closer to you. He was apologetic, sombre. It pulled at your heartstrings. “She didn't intend to hurt you, Miss. She was just desperate to make it all stop. Maker knows she's lost too many people to this plague. We all did.”
The infant cooed softly in your lap, his tiny claws gripping your shirt. You frowned deeply. Grief has a weird way of showing itself. It would be difficult to forgive Zaria, but not impossible. The Deputy, for all of his benevolence, did not expect forgiveness from you anytime soon. He could only tell you the truth and let it be as it is.
“Thank you for saving this town, Mando.” were his final words before he left the Crest.
Your heart felt a little heavy for him and his people. That, hopefully, will fade once you leave this planet.
In hyperspace, after you had taken a shower, you lay your tired body to rest. The cot felt smaller than before. Maybe that was because you spent too many hours in the vast icy forest, where everything felt too big and the land stretched wide. Or maybe it was because the Mandalorian lay right behind you, holding you to him in the dark with a gentle palm splayed against your stomach. The heat spills into the fabric of the shirt you wear. It’s his. The one you borrowed on Sorgan.
You’ve been in the cold for too long. Because you happily allowed him to cling to you, his arm firmly chaining you to him. There is no armour attached to his chest or thighs or his head. He took it off long after he found you in the cot. You were glad to breathe in his scent. The soft fabric of his tunic was comforting. But most of all, the sound of his breathing. Steady and certain. Assuring you that every one of your fears will never reach you again.
Although you close your eyes, you refuse to fall asleep. You want to savour this. You want to look back someday and remember this. Remember the way he holds your heart against his. Remember his unwillingness to let go.
It’s almost sad how no one will know how much it means to you. For they will never know how much of this you’ve been denied. You don’t mind that though. As long as the loneliness is no longer something you have to bear, nor the guilt being the factor that cripples you, it’s all right.
The ground can swallow you whole for all you care. It wouldn’t matter. The Mandalorian will be right there with you. Grasping your hand in the dark as you both walk in step toward the light at the end of the tunnel.
“Ner cyra’ika…”
You’re jolted by the rumble of his voice. It is unfiltered, raw. Yet faint, lulling you to an unknown solace. Like a silken touch to your senses. You have yet to get used to it without the modulation of his helmet. It takes you a moment to collect yourself after being called that for the second time in your life. You hope there will be more occasions. “Yes?”
Silence falls over you. You welcome it. You feel his breaths on the back of your neck, his nose gently tracing your skin. He makes you ache and sigh and wish for an eternity spent like this. He is like the moon, high above and caressing you with his gentle light.
“You know you can tell me anything, right?” His tone is soft, relenting. Whatever answer you give will be enough and he won’t push it.
Tears prick the corners of your eyes. Your lashes flutter in the darkness. It comes as no surprise. Of course, he would ask about that.
Always had to have his hands on her–
Taking a shower after that night was nothing short of dreadful. The piping hot water boiled your skin raw and even after that, you still couldn't erase how filthy you felt.
–whether she liked it or not.
Repeating the things Goerge said earlier was not something you want to do at the moment. You were a blink away from reliving it all again. The vile lust of the man who destroyed something in you. It'll never go away.
Please stop it. You’re scaring me.
You will remember that night for as long as you live. That was certain. If there was any way of erasing it entirely from your memory, from your body, from your soul– you would take it in a heartbeat.
It is not meant to reach the surface of the ocean. Yet.
Your fingers lace through his and you try not to choke as you speak softly, “Some things I’m not ready to tell…”
You know it's irrational. He cares for you. He has proven so far too many times for you to count. You should tell him. He won't condemn you. He won’t leave you.
His hand squeezes yours before you feel his lips press against the back of your ear. “Get some rest.”
Heat chafes your skin, but you force your heart to be still. You will not fall asleep in your own tears today. Even as the memories plague you.
Did he hurt you?
He knows the answer now. And so do you. It breaks both of your hearts.
But how incredibly fortunate it is that each half, yours and his, were a perfect fit for each other.
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Masterlist
Chapter Ten, Chapter Eleven, Chapter Thirteen
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moon-sang · 2 years
Text
ᴋʟᴜᴛᴢ ~ 𝔻𝕚𝕟 𝔻𝕛𝕒𝕣𝕚𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣
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(gif does not belong to me)
REQUEST: Reader goes to grab food and essentials with grogu while mando is out. Reader accidentally trips and scraped her knees (deep wound of some sort) and in the midst breaks grogu’s fall. Reader is hesitant to tell mando what happened but quickly realizes soon after (reader probably showing signs of hurt, limping etc). Fluff and comfort.
SUMMARY: You had always been a klutz... but this one fall may just change the relationship you have with Din.
WARNINGS: Fluff, angst, Soft!Din, fem!reader, description of wound, mature language, pls tell me if I miss anything!
~~~~~~~~~~~~
It’s not your fault.
It’s not your fault you were born such a klutz.
It’s not your fault you ran out of food on the Crest.
It’s not your fault you had to go out and get more supplies, whilst Din was on a hunt.
It’s not your fault a stone got caught in between your feet.
It’s not your fault you fell, and took most of the impact to protect Grogu. 
......Except... it was.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The burning hot air of Nevarro attacked the new scrape on your knee, pulling a hiss out of you. Kriffing rock, getting in the way of your walking! The child cooed in your arms as you limped your way over to the Crest. You didn’t even want to look at it. You could just feel how deep the wound was, you knew you would probably faint if you actually looked at it. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After what seemed to be forever, you finally made it to the Crest. The familiar ship practically called you to it. 
“Now listen buddy.” You start. “I don’t want a peep out of you, we keep this a secret from Mando, yeah?!” All you get as a reply is a bunch of gurgles. A sigh makes it’s way to your face as you continue to hobble over to the hatch of the Crest. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The inviting cool air of the Crest relieved some of the stinging on your knee, but not nearly enough. You groan in pain, and ghost your fingers over the sensitive skin. You should probably patch it up before Din get’s back. 
Your fingers curl around the handle to a drawer, and pull it open. Finally something to patch your wou-.... Where are the medkits? FUCK! You had to buy some of those as well! You forgot them when you tripped! You bang your head on the cold chrome coloured wall of the Crest. “This is just great” You practically yell. With a frustrated groan you flop onto your ‘bed.’ 
“Hey kid, you wouldn’t mind going to the markets for me would ya?” you joke, looking at the confused gremlin. A chuckle leaves your lips when he frantically shakes his head. “Didn’t think so.” you whisper. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few hours later Din arrived. The bounty was knocked out cold and most likely going to be put in carbonite. “Hey.” You greet, attempting to hide your wince and the pain in your voice. You get a nod in return, from the tin can. “How was the kid, cause any trouble?” You shake your head gently. “No, he was good for once.” he nods and turns to the kid, gurgling on the floor. “And what about Y/n? Did she hit her head, stub her toe, or trip anywhere?” He asks him. “Ha.Ha. Very funny.” You mock. Din was very familiar with your clumsiness by now. He’s seen it day after day, and the worst part about it is.... he finds it amusing. He chuckles at his own joke and makes his way to the cockpit. 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It wasn’t until much later Din called you to the cockpit. It was easy to say ‘one sec’ or ‘yea! I’m coming’ but it was easier said than done. Every step to the ladder felt like you were pulling weights tied to your feet. 
When you finally managed to get a hold of the ladder, it was like staring up at mount Everest. It looked so tall, how were you gonna make it up there, with your bad knee? “Y/n? You coming?” Din yells from the cockpit. “Yeah!” You yell back. You could do this. With a huff you step on one of the rungs of the ladder. The pressure on your bad leg pulled a hiss out of you, but you kept going. Step, and pull up, repeat, step and pull up, repeat. That’s all you needed to do. Why did it feel so hard? Finally, after what seemed to be forever, you made it to the cockpit. And why were you panting from climbing a kriffing ladder? 
“What’s up?” you grit out. “The kids been stressing out and crying, I don’t know what’s wrong with him, could you take h-” Din cuts himself off when he turns his seat to look at you. You cock your head at him in confusion. “You want me to take him?” You finish for him. “No.” he replies bluntly, placing the kid on the floor and standing up. “Din...what’s.. going on? What’s wrong?” You hesitantly ask. “You tell me.” came his modulated reply. “What?” You practically whisper. “Do you know how pale you look? Kriffing hell you’re even sweating!” He stresses. Your breath hitches. Was the.. wound.. infected? Kriff it did take a few hours for Din to get back, you were bleeding out for quite some time. Tears well in your eyes but you hold them back. Things were getting overwhelming for you, and..... was Din talking? Whatever he was saying, you couldn’t hear, things were muffled. Your head pounded and a searing hot pain went through your leg before your vision went completely black.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
When you opened your eyes next, you were nested in Din’s bunk. You knew straight away because everything in there smelt like him. Beautiful. “Din?” You slur out, eyes closing again. “Shh, I’m here.” He hushes soothingly. You attempt to sit up, but you find Din gently, but firmly, pushing you back down. “No. Lay down. You need rest.” He orders. You groan in response. “My knee, woun-” You’re cut of by Din. “I dealt with it.” he whispers. You nod and a tense silence spills over the two of you. Finally, he talks. “Why didn’t you tell me?” He questions, a tiny amount of anger laced in his voice. “Didn’t want to.. distract you from the...kid. You respond, voice coaxed in sleepiness. Din sighs and slumps next to you on the bed, cradling your cheek in his bare hot hand. “How.. did you stitch...wound? We have.... no...medkits.” You slur yet again. “I had some spare in my drawer, you should’ve told me mesh’la.” He soothingly whispers, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “Mm sorry” you whisper. He places a gentle kiss of your forehead, and quickly pulls his helmet back down. “Just tell me next time ok, You scared the kriffing shit out of me.” He chuckles. You giggle with him. “Ok.” 
Din pulls you closer to him and wraps and arm around you. You nuzzled into his warm chest... and just stayed like that for a moment, because... it was a strange routine the two of you had. Then there’s something crawling onto you. At first you think it’s a giant spider... but then.. an all too familiar cooing sound rings through the cot. You chuckle along with Din. “No buddy, we didn’t forget you, come on in.” You whisper as you and Din make a small space for him in between the two of you. Gleefully he jumps in, and you all snuggle in with each other. 
~ I hope you liked it!
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this fear is a part of me (please don't take my hope away)
this lust is a burden that we both share - series masterlist here
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pairing: din djarin x reader (gender neutral)
length: 1k
genre: hurt/comfort, fluff
warnings: reader has vulnerability issues but it all works out, din is trying so so hard
a/n: new verse ok ok ok lemme know what y'all think
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"It's a nice home," you admit, eyeing the house that's been given to Din, refusing to acknowledge the way he's staring at you. Your heart aches in your chest when you think of it, of him and his son and his home. It's a stark contrast to the cold, quiet, solitary metal of your ship that you know is waiting for you. You spin around to face Din fast enough that he lurches back a fraction.
"Well," you begin, chin lifted and face resolute. "It'll be good for the two of you. Reach out if you need anything," is all you say before you move to walk past him, away from him, beyond him.
Din stops you, though, a hand across your hips to pull you back with a gentleness you shouldn't be surprised by anymore. 
"It's not a home for two," he murmurs, his voice halting. Vulnerability isn't something that comes easily to either of you. "It… it doesn't have to be."
"You want me to stay?" you prompt, your voice devoid of its usual teasing lilt. Din nods, his arm tightening around your waist. You look at him pointedly. He sighs.
"Yes. I want you to stay."
"You know what that means, don't you?" You step away from him. His fingers twitch as he reels himself in, stopping himself from reaching for you. "This is… commitment. This is serious. This is different."
"My love…" Din begins, a layer of hurt seeping into his voice that makes you dig your nails into your palms. Always hurting, you think to yourself. You will always hurt him. "I understand commitment more than anything else. This is what I want… with you. With our son." Din's voice is sombre as he speaks, his words prompting you to glance at where Grogu's chasing frogs in front of his new home - in front of your new home, if you let it be.
"Your son," is what you fire back, though, the panic of having something good clouding your rationality - the fear of having something that can be taken away.
"Our son," Din corrects firmly, stepping towards you. You tense like an animal ready to bolt, but you don't run. Progress, Din supposes. "This is your family as much as it's mine. This is your home, as much as it's mine. I wouldn't say that unless I understood the severity of it."
You sigh, your shoulders dropping as your fists unclench. There's a solidness about him, a resoluteness that turns him into a fixed point for his family to lean on when they need to. He has never stumbled underneath your weight, and you think it might be unfair to expect that he suddenly will now. You look at him through his helmet and let your brows furrow as you try to gauge his reaction to your snapping, to your walls closing up. He seems to take your relaxing posture as a sort of victory, though, because he steps towards you again, reaching forward to brush his gloved fingers against yours. You let your fingers intertwine with his, holding his hand firmly enough to convince yourself that he won't disappear from in front of you - that this good thing is here to stay.
"I'm sorry," you murmur gently, letting your head thump against his shoulder. He relaxes at the feeling of you pressing your face to his neck and breathing him in, squeezing your hand gently in his while his other strokes up and down your back.
"There is nothing to forgive, my love," he assures with a softness that's reserved for you alone. "This isn't easy for either of us. What matters is that we do it together."
"Together," you mumble in agreement, nodding as you keep your face pressed against him. He huffs out what's almost a laugh, letting you take your time in extracting yourself from him. Once you're standing tall again, chin lifted and eyes regaining their confidence, he squeezes your hand once more.
"Where do we go from here?" is all Din asks, gaze fixed on you.
"Home, I suppose," is your airy response as you stare at the little house you can now call yours. Din feels his heart thump in his chest at your declaration of home, of sharing something like that with him. He breathes deeply, steadying himself against the onslaught of emotions that are thrown at him by those simple words.
"I always had a home in the covert," he says, shifting uneasily on his feet. It's rare for him to divulge anything too personal, even this far into your relationship. You look at him earnestly, the breeze settling around the two of you as you watch Grogu chase frogs out of the corner of your eye.
"Even when I was… an apostate," Din continues, "then it was about finding a way back to that home. But it was always there - always something to fall back on. You…?" He doesn't continue, just stares at you through the slit of his helmet and you know he's giving you an out. You know he won't force you to talk about your past, about where you came from or what you left behind.
"I think it was about… finding one," you say eventually. "I never - I didn't a home to fall back to. But I wanted one, even when I couldn't really admit that to myself." You turn back towards your house - your home, now. One that you would share with your family. "Didn't think I'd ever actually get one, though," you add quietly, a confession whispered so softly Din almost doesn't hear it. 
"You have it now," he assures you, wrapping an arm around your waist and using his other hand to cup your cheek gently, turning you to face him so that he can press the cool beskar of his helmet against your forehead. "You're home now."
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Text
relax
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pairing: din djarin x f!reader
warnings: talk of painful menstruation (i’m a pcos girlie and these are my personal symptoms/levels of pain—everyone menstruates differently), din being a worrisome little lad like always
word count: 1.4k
a/n: this is just me living vicariously through reader since i am on my stupid ass cycle and had to fix my leaking air conditioning unit today
You were not one to wait around for a man to do something for you, especially when you were more than capable of doing it yourself.
The cooling system for the Crest had been leaking water for days now, coinciding with the start of this month’s cycle—meaning, you were more than fed up. Din had been out everyday trying to hunt his latest bounty, an illusive one it seemed given Din’s struggle. By the time he got home in the evenings, he was either exhausted, sore, or frustrated—all of which causing him to neglect the leak.
You knew he had his plate full between hunting this bounty, providing for you and the kid, giving the two of you enough attention when he was home, and having to deal with your period symptoms—you may have had a tendency to be a bit snappy with him during your time of the month. So, while Din was out at work, you forced yourself out of bed and onto your feet, your uterus suddenly punishing you for the choice as your lower belly clenched with a pain you could only describe as unbearable.
Still, you were a determined young lady, and you were going to fix this all on your own.
Dragging one of Din’s storage crates over, you slid it right in front of the system, stepping onto it so that you were eye level with the machinery. Your hands used an assortment of Din’s tools to take the face off the cooler, tugging it off and lowering it down to the floor. As you moved to stand up, a contraction-like cramp struck you, causing you to squat down on the crate, your body nearly doubling over and forcing you to the hard durasteel floor of the cargo hold.
“Fuck,” you whined, eyes squeezed shut as your hands held your stomach, hoping the warmth of your palms would soothe the tension.
After a few moments, the pain dwindled back down into just a dull ache, allowing you the ability to finally stand again. Your head spun as you stood up quickly, hands pressing against the wall in front of you, it’s cold steel doing wonders for your overheated flesh.
Gathering your wits, you went back to work with the system, cleaning out the clogged drain until the leak had gone away completely. A proud smile grew on your face as you looked at the results of your handiwork, but it was soon interrupted by another stabbing cramp.
“Oh my god.” You whined again, tears falling down your cheeks as you winced. You lowered yourself into a squat on the crate again, this time struggling to stay upright as the pain kept squeezing and squeezing.
“Finally did it.” Din walked into the ship via the ramp, his bounty handcuffed beside him. When he saw you doubled over on the crate, crying and panting in absolute anguish, he didn’t think twice. He pushed the bounty into the carbonite freezer, not caring much about whether or not the bounty deserved it. He lunged towards you and kneeled by the crate, his hand rubbing your back as the other stroked your sweaty face. “Mesh’la, what happened?”
“Cramps,” you croaked, the cramp finally beginning to fade away as you now laid in the fetal position on the crate, Din’s gloved hand stroking sweat covered locks of hair out of your face. “But at least I fixed the cooler.”
“My sweet angel,” he wanted to chuckle at your sheer determination, knowing well by now just how out of service you become during your time of the month. Then, he suddenly felt terribly guilty as he realized that you were only on your feet doing this because he hadn’t. “I should’ve fixed it three days ago when you mentioned it. You should be in bed, relaxing…not tinkering away on your feet.”
“Well, I knew you had a lot on your shoulders, and I knew how to fix it, so…thought it wouldn’t be too bad.” You finally opened your eyes, looking into the black of his visor, your hand trembling in exhaustion as you reach to touch the cold beskar of his helm with your palm. He leaned into your touch, thumb stroking over your cheekbone. “Can you help me back to bed?”
“Of course,” he stood up, holding his hand out for you as you reached for him, using his body for stability as you climbed off the crate and onto your feet. Din’s arm held your waist as he walked you back to the bunk, Grogu passed out in his sling. “Surprised the kid didn’t wake up to use his powers on you.”
“Why do you think he’s still passed out? He kept doing it all morning. Poor little guy,” you rested your body back against the mattress, tugging your blankets over your form now that the ship was properly beginning to cool.
Din sat at the edge of the cot and took his helmet off, shaking out his half-damp hair before moving to take off his armor, flight suit, and gloves. Before you knew it, he was curling up behind you, his big, warm hands spread out over your lower stomach that was swollen with a painful bloat. He kissed your shoulder and felt you cuddled back against him even further, humming in appreciation for the relief his hands brought.
“You caught the bounty,” you finally spoke after ten minutes of relishing in his soothing presence. Din chuckled against the shell of your ear and nodded, kissing your hairline. “How’d you finally do it?”
“Carefully.” He mumbled before leaving another tickling kiss to your skin. “I hired a lady to flirt with him and get him drunk at the cantina. It’s surprising how easily men get distracted when a woman’s involved.”
“You say it as though it’s a revelation.” You joked, turning a bit so that you were on your back, Din’s body still resting on his side and looking down at you. He smiled at you softly, eyes taking in your every feature. You were completely natural today, not an ounce of makeup on your face, your hair not even brushed. Still, even with your flushed cheeks and sweaty hair, you looked like an angel to him. He leaned in to press a slow, tender kiss to your lips, full of affection and care.
“I know you’re the best mechanic on this ship, but please remember to take it easy. Your body’s working overtime right now. No more tinkering away unless I’m here to catch you when you fall.” He ordered, full of concern and care for your well being. You nodded, grinning at him as you combed your fingers through his messy head of curls. You hadn’t seen him helmetless since the night previous, and although it had only been about a day since, it was too long. “Are you listening to me or checking me out?”
“Both.” He chuckled at your honesty, leaning down and pecking you once more before briefly leaving you. You pouted at the sudden chill at the loss of his hands on your stomach, the pain slowly creeping back to you. Din locked up the ship and the carbonite bounty, making sure everything was secure for the night before coming back to the bunk. He pressed the button to close the door, then flicked off the light, climbing back behind you and hugging you tight once again. “Can you keep your hands on my stomach for a while? It kept the cramps at bay.”
“Of course, mesh’la.” He kissed your shoulder before nuzzling his head against yours, the two of you getting cozy in preparations for a good night’s rest. “You know…there’s a way we could put a stop to this whole ordeal for a while…”
“Din,” you chuckled and shook your head. “Isn’t one baby enough for you?”
“Grogu would love a little pal.” He defended with a smile, his voice turning into mumbles as sleep began to overtake him. You grinned to yourself and allowed sleep to wash over you as well, keeping the fact that the thought of having his child made your heart swell twice it’s size in your chest to yourself for tonight. “Y/N?”
You were almost asleep when you heard him whisper in your ear. “Yeah, baby?”
“I love you. Just realized I haven’t said it today.” A sleep-laced chuckle left your lips, a goofy grin spread across your face.
“I love you, Din. Now, I think it’s my turn to tell you to relax.” He chuckled and nodded. “Let’s get some rest.”
“Goodnight, angel.” He rasped, kissing your head. You nuzzled into the pillow and hummed contently, your hand resting over his on your stomach.
“Goodnight, my love.”
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