#no more blankets for din just cuddles

[dindjarindiaries]

Dincember - December 5: Cold

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompt: Cold

main masterlist • dincember masterlist

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

The cockpit was haphazardly pressurized, the Razor Crest was puttering along its path, and both the child and your frog-like passenger were asleep. That left only you and Din awake, though you could tell he was trying to feign sleep - as if he hoped you wouldn't notice what was truly going on.

"Din."

You whispered his name, both in an effort to keep it private and to keep the others from waking. Din's helmet leaned towards you, though he kept his visor fixed on the viewport. You reached forward and brushed your fingertips along his pauldron, the metal biting your fingers with the most bitter kind of cold.

"You're still frozen over." Din tightened the arms he had crossed over his chest, as if it would keep them from trembling more. It didn't. "You must be even colder under there."

"I'm fine." Din raised a gloved hand to find yours on his shoulder, patting it as reassuringly as he could. "Don't worry about me. You need to rest."

"As do you." You raised your brow at him. "And there's no way you can when you're still shivering."

Din shrugged. "I'll manage."

You frowned at him. "We don't have any spare blankets in here."

"The ice will melt eventually."

You fought the urge to sigh at him. "Once we're already in orbit of Trask, maybe."

Din sat up more, spinning in his chair to face you. "Cyar'ika, I'm f-f...," a rather violent shiver kept him from finishing the word at first, "fine." He sounded defeated as he finished the phrase, obviously having been given away.

You wrinkled your brow and take his hand between your own. "Can I help?"

Din gives his helmet a tilt. "How?"

You smiled and stood from your seat, taking the child from your lap and letting him have it to himself. Stepping towards Din, you nodded, silently asking for permission to sit. Din widened his arms for you, allowing you to take your place upon him with your front side against his own. You set your hands upon your cuirass for a moment, letting Din's visor face you with concern that was evident through the beskar.

"Doesn't this make you cold?" Din's question was coated in worry.

You shook your head. "Not for long." Your arms wrapped around his middle as you rested the side of your head against his cowl, closing your eyes and breathing in the comfort of him. "It'll melt."

Din's arms do the same to you as you had just done to him. "Was this really in the interest of warming me up?" His gloved fingertips brushed gently over you for further comfort. "Or did you just want to sit like this?"

You smiled against him. "A little bit of both." You tightened your grasp around him. "But mostly to keep you warm." You lifted a hand for only a moment to run your finger along the frost on his armor, leaving a heart behind in its wake. "Promise."

Din huffed in both amusement and affection. "Thank you." His helmet gently rested upon your head. "You're very warm."

Your smile grew at that. "Good."

[gay-dorito-dust]

Okay wait! Luke and y/n sneaking out of their cabins to go to their hiding spot to watch the stars while kissing and cuddling.

Being a Demi-god didn’t allow for you to experience many of the oftentimes mundane or meaningful moments in life, especially when you were thrusted into life threatening quests for godly parents that probably didn’t care to even remember any of your or your half siblings names; never less remember to claim them unless it proved beneficial for their own agenda.

However there was one exception to this answer his name was Luke Castellan. The goddess Aphrodite must’ve took pity on you by sending the charming and dashing son of Hermes your way, allowing you to befriend and then later on, fall in love with him and you’ve never been more happier then you were whenever you were with Luke Castellan.

Or Golden Boy as you’ve playfully called him, much to his dismay but the small smile that’d tug at lips told you otherwise.

As ironic as it might sound but any moment you got with Luke felt like pure magic with the way they make your insides grow homely and warm like a hearth, warming you throughout your entire body as your face was stuck in a perpetual state of dopey and lovesick.

Tonight was no different then any other night as you and Luke -hand in hand- ventured from the beds of your respective cabins and began making your way towards the lake all the while poorly concealing your bouts of laughter, some would manage to slip out now and then but you couldn’t help it! It had been awhile since you and Luke had some time to spend together, especially not without your siblings and or friends coming to get either of you to settle some disputes, and then not see each other until you were all called to the dinning pavilion; but even then you were seated at your tables, still unable to see each other.

To say that this moment was long overdue for both of you was the understatement of the century.

‘I don’t think that I’ll ever get over how beautiful the stars really are.’ You told Luke in awe, completely captivated by the starry sky that hung over camp.

‘That’s what I always say to myself whenever I get to see you.’ Luke says as he then drew your back until you were was fully pressed against his chest, solely for the fact that he could comfortably put his head upon your shoulder and rest his cheek to yours, humming in content when satisfied with the end result.

You snorted, readjusting the blanket you had brought with you to keep warm from the cold breeze that would occur every so often. ‘Yeah, I’m sure you do golden boy.’ You chuckled upon hearing Luke groan dramatically, only to then squeal in surprise when you felt him burrow his head into your neck, the ends of his hair kissed your skin with the weight of a feather while his own lips coated your neck in kisses of his own before stoping. ‘Don’t you ever get bored of calling me that? Golden boy?’ He asks and you moved your head to press a kiss against his hair. ‘Nope,’ you chirped, pressing another kiss but this time to his nose when Luke lifted his head from your neck to look you in the eye, ‘I for one think it suits you.’ You added, flashing him a cheeky smile.

‘I do often think about you, you know, in the same way you spoke about the beauty of the stars just now.’ Luke confessed and you felt your breath catch in your throat.

‘I didn’t say any-‘

‘You didn’t need to.’ Luke cuts you off. ‘I’d like to think the reason I know you as well as I do is because you hold the other half of my soul, as I hold the other half of yours.’ He says softly as his eyes then looked up to the stars in a form of hope, stars that now twinkled within his eyes as though they had finally broken free from the veil of endless hopelessness that often came with being a half-blood. ‘I also wonder that if I’m another lifetime, another universe where we’re not cursed to be demi-gods….If that’s even plausible.’ He adds sarcastically, his features contorted in pain and anger before it all faded away as quickly as it came. ‘If we ever get to find each other again or are destined to wonder our entire lives, lost in the hope of trying to fill the void we’re seemingly born with from this lifetime.’

You wordlessly buried yourself into his neck, pressing soft kisses there in hopes of soothing him somewhat. ‘I’m sure we find each other, no I’m certain that we find each other.’ You murmured reassuringly, feeling his arms tighten on your waist. ‘You wanna know why?’ Luke looked away from the stars to look at you, intrigued. ‘Why?’ You moved yourself from your cosy place against his chest, causing him to whine at the loss of your warmth, only to stop upon feeling you hold either sides of his face between your hands; caressing his cheeks as you stared lovingly into his eyes as he welcomed your touch by sinking into it.

‘Because what we do in this lifetime will echo throughout the others, we defy the gods today and we will defy the gods in every single lifetime afterwards.’ You said, pressing your forehead against his as you moved one of your hands from Luke’s cheek to hold him by the back of his neck, fingers toying with the hair there. ‘The same can be said for when we love each other as much as we do right now, we will always find ourselves falling in love with each other in the other lifetimes too.’ You pressed a kiss to his scar before continuing. ‘For we’re fated to be soulmates, even if means having the odds stacked against us, we’ll always find each other again. No matter what.’

Luke stared at you for a while before he pressed his lips against yours passionately, his hands keeping you close to him as he poured everything he had into the kiss, not so secretly wishing that you were right about your love echoing throughout all your other lifetimes, to the point it disrupts their originally intended fates to pursue one another, not caring how long it would take because you both knew that the wait would’ve been entirely worth it.

[thepascalofus]

Supply Run - Exchange (part three)

AO3

Part Two

Pairing: Mando/Din Djarin x afab!Reader

Summary: You’ve been Mando’s crew partner for a year now. Throughout that year Mando has warmed up to you and given you signs that your heart throbbing crush on him is reciprocated. There’s one thing making you hesitate. The condoms he bought on the most recent supply run.

Word Count: 19.1k (HAHAHAHAHAAA)

Chapter Summary: Previous feelings for each other are revealed, and then those feelings are explored. An exchange, if you will.

Content Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, nervous!reader, soft!!!!!!mando, reader loves facial hair, fluff fluff fluff, helmet comes off, cuddling, SMUT: making out, grinding, PRAISE kink, lowkey size kink, big dick mando, consent king mando (consent king mando is the hottest mando, it is law), m and f masturbation, dirty thoughts of reader and of mando, piv, unprotected and protected piv, fingering f receiving, ass grabbing, a lil nipple play, half naked and naked mando, lovey dovey sex hehehehehe, physical descriptions of reader are as neutral as possible but reader has a vagina

A/N: I cannot thank you all enough for your responses on the first two parts. I also cannot thank you all enough for your patience for part three. It is longer than part one and two combined (y’all voted for me to post in one long part, ya get what ya ask for!), so I think it was worth the wait. Also I didn’t proofread this because I was too excited to post it. Will read over it later though! ENJOY!!

THREE MONTHS PRIOR

A thudding sound was produced by Mando’s footsteps up the Crest’s ramp. Looking up from the article you were reading on your Holopad, your eyes were trained on the lowering ramp. You nestled a bit further into your reading nook–a pile of blankets and some pillows stacked against the wall–as you anticipated the outside air hitting you.

Mando entered the Crest covered in mud. His footprints left a trail up the metal of the ramp. That’s another thing to add to the list of chores, you thought. The planet’s surface was half-swamp, so of course he would come back looking like he just rolled in bantha shit. A struggling bounty that Mando was dragging by the cuffs snapped around their wrists only made the mess worse. 

With a grunt and a push, the quarry was frozen in the carbonite cell before Mando could finish the harsh grit of his, “Dank farrick.” His muddy, gloved hand left a mark on his vambrace when he touched it to close the ramp. 

Silence.

A modulated exhale.

He stood with his expansive shoulders slumped and helmet turned downwards a bit. An apologetic tone crackled through the helmet, “I’m really sorry about the mess,” he slowly said as he used his hands to gesture around him.

Yeah, it wasn’t the most fun chore in the galaxy, but the alternative would be sitting and reading an article on your Holopad. Or sitting next to Mando in the cockpit, the streams of light gleaming off of his armor as you two have a sleepy conversation. They do sound like better alternatives, but you wanted to maximize your time with Mando.

You knew that Mando would help you clean up the mess. More time with Mando greatly sweetened the task of scrubbing the hull.

“I’m going to uh,” he glanced down at the muddy ensemble that covered his body, “go rinse off real quick.” He began his path towards the fresher door and stood still in front of the door. The helmet turned towards his right shoulder, like he was lost in thought. You could tell he concluded his reasoning as the helmet turned back to face the fresher door and he reached up to unlatch his armor. 

First the chest plate was placed on the floor.

Tung.

Then the thigh guards.

Tang. Tang.

Vambraces.

Ting. Ting.

Pauldrons.

Dunk. Dunk.

It wasn’t unusual for Mando to remove his armor outside of the thresher. Occasionally the planet he needed to hunt on was sweltering hot, and removing the armor helped him cool down. Other times it was the inverse, the armor was too cold and he needed to heat up. It made sense to you this time as well. His armor was dirty so removing it before stepping into the fresher helped him clean up easier.

You didn’t realize he would apply the same logic to his mud-soaked flight suit.

Reaching up, his gloved fingers fiddled with the buttons at the top of his shirt. Eventually he was successful in undoing them and brought his hands behind his neck. He gripped the collar of his shirt and pulled it up and over the helmet. Off of his torso and onto the floor.

Plap.

The saturated long sleeve clung to his upper body like a surgical exam glove. Every muscle. Every ripple with his movement. They shined in the light of the Crest and displayed every lean curve of the Mandalorian’s body. Once more he reached up, this time undoing the buttons on his long sleeve.

Oh kriff.

Hands gripping the back collar of the shirt, the removal of the wet, black fabric revealed golden tan skin. Scars littered the expanse of his back from the years of combat he’d endured. The muscles that previously rippled underneath black fabric now gleamed under tan skin, coated with a layer of sweat.

Plap.

Oh kriff.

You were behind the nearly beskar-less man. Knowing he couldn’t see you, your jaw dropped.

Mando stepped out of his shoes, which revealed clean black socks. Hopefully his boots were equipped with mechanisms to keep his feet dry. Lastly, he slid off his gloves.

Plap. Plap.

Veiny, golden hands–matching his torso–were ungloved. His fingers were thick with well kept nails. You supposed that longer nails would make hand-to-hand combat difficult. As he opened the fresher door you watched his hand flex around the handle. His biceps bulged in the process of pulling the metal door open.

Once he was inside the fresher, you heard shuffling. After a minute or two, the door opened slightly. A large hand and toned forearm reached out and discarded his pants and underwear on the floor.

Plap.

The water began to run in the fresher and the pattering of liquid hitting the fresher floor filled the Crest. Occasional variations in the pattering occurred when Mando moved his body underneath the stream of water. 

Then the pattering stopped. Mando must have been drying himself off, the slight shuffling sounds made their way to your ears. Those sounds ceased as well.

The Mandalorian cleared his throat and called out your name, “Um. Hey.”

Blinking a few times, you snapped out of your daydream-like state, “Yeah?” You called in response.

A pause. “Would you mind getting me some pants, please?” His voice was tight–possibly in embarrassment.

Your eyes widened and body sat still, “Uh, yeah sure! Where do you keep clean pairs?” You asked.

“Right side of my bunk. First cabinet on the left.” He raised his voice in order to enunciate his words. 

Before you knew it, you were leaning into Mando’s bunk. Your gaze floated around the space in a quick glance. It was clean and organized. After witnessing his wide and tall frame the bed looked almost too small. Or maybe he just looked that large.

Your hand opened the first cabinet on the left and the other hand selected a clean pair of pants off the top of the stack. They were soft, fleece-like. Realizing they were sweatpants you extended your arm to put them back, but then hesitated as your hand hovered over the pile. Mando just came back from a hunt. A swampy, muddy hunt at that. He should get to be comfortable now.

The sweatpants remained in your hand and your footsteps took you to the fresher door. “I got you a pair,” you shyly announced. 

A squeak came from the fresher door’s hinges as the crack in the door allowed Mando’s hand to stick out of the space. His palm was open, waiting for the pants to meet his touch. Your arm reached forward and placed the soft pants into the grasp of his thick fingers.

“Thank you.” The smooth bass of his voice entered your ears and went south. Air moving through his vocal chords produced warm, honey-like vibrations and they made you melt. “I’ll get the rest,” he concluded, and shut the fresher door. 

You stood and studied your bleary reflection on the fresher door in awe at what you’ve experienced. Mando’s actual voice–without the helmet.

Shuffling began and ended abruptly. Lost in the awe, you didn’t realize the Mandalorian opened the door and took a step out. In consequence, his chest collided with your torso and sent you tumbling backwards. Backwards into a small puddle of swamp water and peaty mud.

“Di’kutla,” Mando let out a now modulated grunt.

Useless, worthless in Mando’a. Your heart stung a bit at the word. It’s not like you wanted to be covered in swamp gunk.

“Sorry, I-I didn’t mean to make more of a mess,” you stuttered, nervous at the potential of him being mad at you.

Without a word, he reached down and hauled you to your feet, large hands grasped you at your waist. You became off balance and placed your hands on his chest for leverage. A slight gasp escaped your throat at the sudden movement–and at touching Mando’s bare chest.

His skin was soft, but rough. Thin black hairs littered his sternum and the surrounding skin. A light trail made its way down his soft, yet toned, stomach and disappeared past the waist of his sweatpants. Once you realized where your gaze settled–the soft bulge displayed behind the black fabric–your eyes snapped back up to his visor and your hands returned to your sides. Mando’s hands brushed the insides of your forearms. The skin on his hands was rough and warm, just like the skin on his chest.

The T shape tilted and then shook from side to side, “I’m di’kutla, not you. I’m the one that pushed you over.” 

His head peered downwards and noticed the placement of his hands, he quickly jerked them back to his sides and nodded, “Let’s get cleaning.”

–

The Mandalorian quickly pulled an outfit together, which lacked his usual beskar–the same black sweatpants, a black t-shirt, and a pair of black socks–and you mirrored his actions. Thankfully, he only caused your clothes to get dirty and not the rest of you. Your clean outfit was more revealing, which allowed you to bend and twist to scrub the mud off of the Crest’s interior.

While scrubbing, you would catch Mando out of the corner of your eye as he stole glances at you. An eyebrow of yours raised at his glances. You shot him a quick, “Don’t worry Mando, I’m getting it all,” in a teasing manner.

Looking back at the beskar-less man, he shook his helmet and chuckled, “I’m not worried about you getting it all. You keep the Crest sparkling clean. Was just…seeing if you needed help over there.” His visor returned to focus on the task of removing the mud from the floor of the hull.

–

The cleaning finished after an hour and a half. You were shocked at the efficiency, but you supposed two people cleaning aided in achieving the cleanliness of the Crest. Scrubbing the silver floors and walls tired you out, and Mando certainly felt the same after his hunt and scrubbing.

Sleep permeated throughout the air of the Crest and nestled itself into yours and Mando’s bodies. Fluid motions weaved your bodies past each other throughout the hull. Mando went back to change in his bunk while you used the fresher for your nightly routine. Once you were finished, you closed all the cabinets in the small space, signaling the return of your nightly products to their original places.

Which usually signaled Mando to stand outside of the fresher door.

His footsteps became louder as he strode to his usual spot across from the metal door of the fresher. You weren’t surprised to see Mando leaning against the wall of the hull.

But you were surprised at the bare chest staring back at you. The dark hairs on his chest littered your vision once more. The Mandalorian’s arms were crossed, which displayed every finely tuned muscle in the dim light of the hull.

You wanted to jump his bones. Climb him like a tree. Feel the expanse of his trunk-like arms under your palms.

“Are you all done there?” His modulated bass crackled through your thoughts. Straightening up and snapping out of your daydreams, you stepped to the side and nodded. Mando’s frame became larger as he approached you. Once your bodies were about to pass each other, an ungloved hand settled on your hip and gave you a slight squeeze.

“Thank you,” he said. His visor met your eyes before he closed the door to the fresher. 

You got comfy in your makeshift bed–a nice pillow, a thick sleeping pad, and a cozy blanket–and waited for Mando to finish his nightly routine. You always tried to stay up and say good night to Mando before you drifted off to sleep.

Facing the side of the Crest the fresher was on, your head hit the cushion of your pillow and your thoughts wandered.

Mando looked so fucking good. Deliciously good.

You’ve had thoughts about him before. Perverse thoughts. But they were never this strong. But you’ve also never seen him this bare this many times.

His strong arms could wrap around you and flood your body with his warmth. Broad hands would travel up and down your back, soothing any negative thoughts away. Warm skin against yours could act like a salve for your worries.

You could think of everything vividly. His arms. Hands. Chest. Even his legs.

But the feel and morphology of his lips was blurry in your mind's eye.

Yet, you wanted his lips so bad–wanted him so bad–that you didn’t mind the unfocused image in your brain.

You wanted his lips to chase after yours like they were a bounty with the highest reward he’s seen. You needed to feel the slick of his saliva mixing with yours. The dancing of your two tongues in a battle of lust. Not only did you pine after his kiss, but you sought everything that would accompany it as well.

Mando’s ungloved hands would run up and down the planes of your body. Squeezing and palming your features as he pleased, expressing his want for you. The comfortable weight of him on top of you as your mouths molded together. His shifting muscles underneath your palms as you copied his wandering hands. You’d trail your fingertips over the never-ending expanse of his firm back. The pressure of his hard shaft would grind against your mound.

And the sounds.

The sounds.

You’ve heard him grunt before, in pain, effort, exertion, while he handled his bounties.

But you wanted to cause the sounds instead.

His lips could slide against yours and vibrate as he lets out a soft groan of pleasure. The bare chest on top of yours would rumble, sending shivers of delight up and down your spine. Your fingers would dig into his back in response, which would only increase the intensity of his groans. His breath would hitch as the head of his cock rubbed against the point in your walls that had you reeling.

And finally his voice.

Modulated or not, you hoped he would reciprocate the want you had for him. Your thighs pressed together in an attempt to soothe the ache between them.

“Maker, you feel so good.”

“Need you right now.”

“You like that, baby? Yeah? Good.”

“Fuucckkk, always so good for m-.”

You were cut off by the squeaky hinges of the fresher door, accompanied by Mando’s footsteps. Still shirtless, he came into one side of your vision and slowly walked to the other side. Your face heated up at his presence and the thoughts you just had about him. He stopped in front of his bunk and looked at you. 

The T of his visor became diagonal, “You okay?” He questioned you.

Realizing he caught on, your face heated up even more as you produced a response, “Y-yeah! Yeah. Just…thinking.”

Nice save.

His helmet returned to its natural positioning. “What’re you thinking about?” He questioned once again. His large hands clasped in front of him just below his waist. Maker, he was huge. Mando put the width of the doorframe to shame as he continued to stare at you.

“Just…” You quickly tried to remedy the one sided awkwardness. “Just thinking about a book I’m reading. The plot is getting more complex.” Your shoulders rose and fell in a shrug to make your answer seem nonchalant.

“What book? Is it the cowboy one?” Mando replied. He leaned against the doorframe to get comfortable.

Your heart throbbed at his thoughtfulness. The cowboy-related book was one you brought up to him a couple weeks ago, when he asked what you were reading. Not wanting to lie to him, you shook your head and told the truth, “No, I finished that one a couple days ago. This one is about,” you trailed off, and then lied, “This is a romance book.” Your face became hot once again. At least you weren’t completely lying.

“Romance?” Mando asked, “What’s this book called?” His helmet tilted in interest. You could pick up a teasing tone if you listened closely enough.

“Oh, I don’t think you’d like it,” you returned. He usually asked for book titles when he was interested in reading them as well. 

His bare shoulders shrugged, causing his chest to flex for a moment. “Was just curious what you were reading.” He sounded a bit disappointed. The door frame appeared to widen as he turned to enter his bunk.

Not wanting to leave him hanging, you made up a book title, “Hunter and Prey.” Your eyes widened at the sheer explicitness of the three words that left your lips. Hunter and Prey? Really? It would have been easier just to tell him what you were daydreaming about him railing you. 

Mando’s broad frame filled the entrance to his bunk once again. “Hunter and Prey?” He said in a teasing tone, one much more decipherable. 

You throw his tone right back at him, “Oh c’mon. The book has romance and adventure. Two birds with one stone.” You’ve told him how much you like adventure books, so hopefully your lie stuck.

The beskar helmet slanted in thought. “I guess so,” he settled his playful response and paused. A playful tone arose from his modulator once more, 

“Don’t get too interested in bounty hunters. I think getting caught is only fun in the books.” His chest, dark hairs splaying across the surface, vibrated as he chuckled.

A slight smile spread across your face at his joke, “You never know, some bounty hunters don’t take their job as seriously as you do,” you stuck your tongue out at him in jest. 

Mando shook his head, probably biting back a chuckle, and faced his torso towards you for the final time that night, “Good night.” 

Still smiling, you responded, “Good night.”

The bunk door shut and only a dim light in the hull remained as a light source. Shadows from different cargo boxes cast themselves across the silver wall. It would take too much work to decipher which reflections on the walls belonged to which items. Warm light from a lamp near your living space casted a blanket of relaxation over the area. You couldn’t escape the feeling, and your body slumped into the material of the sleeping pad.

Once you closed your eyes, you realized your body was the only thing that the warm light seemed to calm down. In your mind, one thought took center stage.

Mando.

The way he leaned against the door frame. A broad expanse of dark hair covered his chest and traveled down past his waist, the horizontal and vertical lines of hair mimicking the T of his visor. Crossed arms were decorated with a smooth topography of muscles. His voice, laced with relaxation and ease. How attentiveness was like second nature to him. 

How far did that attentiveness extend?

You thought about how carefully he listened and remembered details from your conversations. Picking up on things you’ve needed without you even realizing they’re necessary. Like the sleeping pad you’re laying on. The warm, cozy blanket he came back with one day. 

Would he do the same in bed?

Your hand traveled down to your mound. Dipping under your waistband, your fingertips found your clit. Slow motions started to stimulate the bundle of nerves, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. It wasn’t the first time you masturbated on the Crest, you were human after all. But it was the first time you masturbated without assistance–from a book, video, or picture–and were spurred on by thoughts alone. 

He’d probably listen to your breath hitch as his thick, veiny fingers hooked into a spot on your inner walls just right. And he’d continue, hitting that exact spot over and over. With trained precision. Like it was nothing.

Upper teeth bite down on your lower lip as you thought about his fingers inside of you. How thick they are. How skilled he would be with them. Wet seeped from your slit onto your bottoms. The fingertips from your clit reached down to collect your wetness, and you resumed rubbing your clit at a faster pace.

He’d make you cum like it was his duty, as if it was part of his Creed. With confidence. Pride. Mando’s fingers would be soaked, so soaked that he’d raise them to meet your mouth. “Open.” He’d demand.

You knew you’d get that wet for him because you were already that wet for him. One of your hands continued rubbing your bundle while the other dipped into your entrance. A singular finger eased its way into your hole, but you wanted to feel the stretch. The stretch you knew his fingers would easily provide. Bringing another finger against the original one, you prodded at your entrance once more. You pushed into your wetness with two fingers.

That’s it.

Your eyes closed. Jaw dropped. 

Your thoughts wandered to his fingers once more, syncing your thoughts with the way your body felt. 

You’d take his fingers into your mouth and suck your slick from them. Right before they would retract, you coated the two digits in a layer of saliva. He observed his own fingers and understood your silent plea. “You want more, baby?” You nodded. His fingers returned to your wet hole and filled you once again.

Your own two fingers weren’t as thick as Mando’s, so you got used to the feeling of two. You needed more. The circling at your clit kept a constant pace as a third finger joined your other two. Your thoughts jumped to something that wasn’t his fingers.

His cock.

The soft bulge underneath the black fabric of his sweatpants. It was sizable, even when he was soft–you assumed he was soft–so how big would he be when he’s turned on? If his genetics maintained their pattern, he would be big.

He’d lean over you and line his hips up with yours. Each of your legs rested on one of his sides. A large hand would grip your hip to steady you, as he pushed the thick head of his cock into you. Mando would remain attentive. You knew he’d watch your face and listen to your breaths, your moans. His heavy cock found the same spot inside of you that his fingers did.

Your inner walls clenched around your three fingers. The strokes you took were slow and drawn out, savoring the fullness of your warmth.

Once he saw that you were comfortable, he’d pick up his pace. Your moaning increased, littered with, “please,” and, “Mando,” over and over. He’d groan at his name, fucking into you with more strength. Mando put the weight of his body behind his thrusts. Your body shifted up the mattress from the effort he put in. 

A small, wet sound began to echo across the hull, but you were too close to care. The hand at your clit fell into a perfect rhythm with the thrusts of the fingers entering and leaving your soaking hole. You bit your lip as you quieted a moan that threatened to leak from your mouth.

Mando’s broad palm and thick fingers would lace between yours, holding your conjoined hands above your head while he fucked into you. The head of his cock perfectly brushed against a spot deep within your walls. A place that you couldn’t reach by yourself. The Mandalorian’s hot breath fanned across your neck, he panted and groaned from his exertion. 

Another brush against your walls and you squeezed around him. “Fuucckkk,” he’d moan into your neck. He continued his pace and littered your neck in sloppy kisses. “That’s a good fucking girl.”

Both of your hands worked faster. Three fingers fucked into your hole, curled to try and hit the spot deep inside of you. Your other hand increased the pace of the study rub over your throbbing clit. The bottoms you wore felt soaked against your lower hand, yet you couldn’t care less.

Mando’s thrusts would be relentless. Hard. Fast. The weight of his heavy balls slapped against the tighter hole beneath the one he was fucking. 

Plap. Plap. Plap.

Each thrust would be so final. Conclusive. He fucked you like he knew exactly how this would end. His visor hovered over your face. Your jaw was dropped and your eyebrows were furrowed. The horizontal line of his visor filled your vision. His voice was merely a growl, as he demanded, “Cum for me.”

Your body went stiff as euphoria washed over you in waves. Each wave took you apart and brought you back together. The wetness of your hole only became wetter, the sound echoed a bit louder than before. Despite your attention to staying quiet, your orgasm raged on. Every reassembly from each wave of pleasure calmed your being, and your stiff form slumped into your sleeping pad. Your hands kept moving, but at a slower pace. Another wave followed every thrust of your fingers. You savored the warmth your orgasm brought you. Halting your hands, your mind came-to. 

That was the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had.

–

That hunt kriffing sucked, Mando thought.

Cold water ran down Mando’s body as he rinsed himself off in the fresher. Drops of liquid pattered onto the metal floor, pooling at his feet. Everything in his body felt limp, a result of his exhaustion from the hunt. 

The only thing that wasn’t limp was his dick.

Mando was already on the edge of his perverse thoughts. Seeing you, comfortable and cozy, made his heart swell–and his cock. Providing for you was like breathing. After every hunt he looked forward to meeting your gaze and a soft smile spreading across your face. 

Not only did he get to see you comfortable, but he saw you displaying your attraction to him. A display that included dropping your jaw when he took his shirt off.

He caught you gawking at him in the reflection of his chest plate. Your jaw dropped when he removed his final layers, and Maker, it only made his situation worse. Not only was his body dirty, his thoughts were dirty too. 

Before his brain started to spiral, he quickly completed his rinse-off and turned off the shower in the fresher. Stepping out, he realized he didn’t bring any fresh clothes in with him. 

Shit.

You were in the hull and would probably bring him something if he asked for it. But what does he ask for? A full outfit? He at least needed bottoms. He thought of how complicated it would be to explain where multiple things are in his bunk through the metal door of the fresher, so he opted to just ask for one thing–pants.

“Um. Hey. Would you mind getting me some pants, please?” Mando asked. He was a tad embarrassed. He plans hunts meticulously to save the most amount of time, he’s attentive to every detail in combat, and he forgot to bring pants into the fresher with him.

You brought him the pair and the Mandalorian quickly changed. Pausing before he touched the door handle, Mando became nervous. What if your jaw-dropping was one of disgust and not of attraction?

Only one way to find out.

–

Mando laid on the mattress in his bunk and finally let his thoughts wander. They wandered like a desperate quarry. So desperate to find a discreet place to live, but showing themselves at some point in the end.

He thought of the book you were allegedly reading: Hunter and Prey. You were reading a romance novel. About bounty hunters. 

His hardened cock only made his sweatpants tighter. Hips shifting upwards, he sought relief in adjusting his position. The only thing adjusting did was rub the head of his cock against the fabric of his pants. Black fabric created a heart-stopping friction against his tip. 

Dank farrick.

Finally giving in to his perverse thoughts, he let them wander. Just like how he would let an easy bounty wander around town. At any minute, he could capture them and complete his hunt, but sometimes he enjoyed “playing with his food” first.

His imagination put you on center stage. Your hair. Your eyes. The shape of your body and the planes of it he sought to run his hands over. Warm skin would glide underneath his palms and act like a sedative. Calmness washed over his mind. Then he thought of your lips. So delicately crafted. Your lips framed your gorgeous smile, like they were housing an ancient masterpiece in an art gallery.

The smile you gave him whenever he returned from a hunt made his heart melt. You’d be snuggled up reading, bent over the small stove cooking, or hunched over a mechanical issue. No matter the situation, you would look up and find his gaze behind his visor. Something anyone else could rarely accomplish. He finally felt like he had a purpose hunting, besides survival. 

You.

You’d meet him halfway and wrap your arms around his torso. His arms would snake around your torso and hold you in a tight hug. “I missed you,” he’d say. “I missed you too,” your response would vibrate against his chest. His hands would run up and down your back, relishing the feel of your body in his capable arms. 

He groaned at the thought. In frustration of not being able to have you. The simple image of a hug had him reeling, desperate to meld his being with yours. You were so perfect and lived in his damn ship. You spoke with him as if he were just Din, and not Mando. Images of domesticity juxtaposed images of his bounty hunting profession. It was a blessing and a curse. 

The pair of you would retreat to his bunk and turn off the lights. Your bodies would press together as the two of you shared the space of the mattress. He would press his helmet into your hair, smelling the faint scent of you through the metal–and the shampoo you recently bought at a market. He’d use his broad hands and thick arms to bring you closer to him, nearly crushing you via cuddling.

Mando’s face heated up at the thought. Feeling the heat of your body against his was something he would be willing to get on his knees and beg for.

Hands would begin to drift and adventure in a bold manner. His palms would glide up and down your body, stopping occasionally to grasp and rub different areas. He thought of the way your ass would feel in his palms. Soft. A cushion. A spectacle he almost didn’t feel deserving of. His hands would wander north and his fingers would tease your nipples through your shirt. You’d gasp in response and squirm against him.

Maker. He almost forgot. The sounds you would make. The Mandalorian groaned and reached down to palm his cock through his sweatpants. Relief flooded his body like how precum flooded from the head of his cock. Rough palms glided up and down the silky skin of his shaft. Once the friction became too much, he reached into a side compartment and produced a small bottle. Squeezing the plastic sides of the bottle, a small dollop of lube was squirted onto his fingers. He quickly returned to his thoughts and his actions. The lube allowed his large grip to seamlessly run along the length of his shaft.

Shit. Would you be this wet?

After exploring the feel of your body, Mando would pull you to sit in his lap. You’d be in between his legs with your back facing him, your legs resting out in front of you. He’d grip the insides of your knees and encourage you to let your legs fall to either side. Once he was pleased with the positioning he asked, “Is it okay if I take these off?” Rough fingertips pinched at the waistband of your pants and underwear. Getting an enthusiastic nod and a small, raspy ‘yes’ in response, the Mandalorian pulled both articles of clothing off of your lower half. 

He focused his strokes near the tip of his cock. The nerves in the head of his shaft sent electric currents through his body. Normally his self-pleasure sessions weren’t this intense, but you did something to him. You were special. Better than any brothel service. Any piece of pornography. You were gorgeous. Beautiful. Mesh’la. 

He thought of dipping his fingers into your slit. Hopefully, that would pull another gasp from you. Every breathy exhale and pleasured sound only increased his need to hear them more frequently. Starting with one finger, his fingertip would push into your entrance. He’d go slow at first, pumping in and out of your wet sex knuckle by knuckle. Mando would give you some time to adjust to the feeling, and then increase his pace. Moans and gasps fell from your lips much more frequently than before. Your pussy was soaked from just a few fast strokes from his thick finger. If you were comfortable with it, he’d slip another finger alongside the singular one. His pace slowly increased to resume the speed that had your back and shaking legs pressed against his. 

“Ohhh, Ma- Mando-o,” would quietly cry from your throat.

“Fucckkk,” Mando said under his helmet.

Wet sounds emanated from the action of stroking his rough grip up and down his thick shaft. Underneath the helmet, he bit his lip in frustration. He already imagined you could feel heavenly around his fingers, but he needed to feel your slick walls around his cock.

First he would make you cum with his fingers. The orgasm would send you reeling back into his hold. You’d be a shaking and stuttering mess, reaching for one of his broad hands and lacing your fingers between his. An effective way to ground yourself.

“Good girl,” he’d praise.

After you came down from your high, his strong arms would bring you to lay down long ways on the mattress. Parting your legs once more, Mando’s broad hips settled between yours. Glistening folds were presented to him at the center of his vision. You looked delicious. He wished to taste you, but his need to fuck you overtook the pleads from his tastebuds.

His thumb rubbed slow circles on the bundle of nerves between your legs. Your sparkling eyes would meet the gaze behind his visor and your brows would furrow in desperation. He’d do anything you wanted. Anything to please you. 

“What do you want, mesh’la?” His gravelly voice echoed throughout the small bunk.

You’d bite your lip, shyness creeping over your face, but you overcame the feeling. He loved it when you were confident in asking for something from him. “I want you to fuck me,” you requested.

Mando let out a strangled groan at his thought of the words. He loved knowing that you wanted him. He loved when you voiced your desires, sexual or not. Your comfort in his presence was the most potent aphrodisiac Mando could consume. The tip of his cock throbbed at the thought, and his thumb reached up to attempt to sooth the sensation. Bare hips bucked into the air at the touch.

He would line his hips up with yours and prod the wide head of his shaft against your wet entrance. Before pushing in, he reached towards a cabinet to produce his bottle of lube. Mando quickly spread a generous amount over the veiny surface of his cock. As much as he wanted to fuck you, your comfort was his upmost priority. Giving himself a few strokes with his large grip–your eyes trained on his hands–he lowered his hips once more. The T of his helmet stared into your face as he slowly pushed into you. 

Your jaw would drop, just like it did in the reflection on his chest plate. The slick walls of your pussy hugged his thick cock, making his jaw drop in unison.

His wide hand tightened around his hardness. Each stroke had him fucking himself into his grip. Mando’s jaw clenched in concentration, the combination of his hand and thoughts of you were furthering him closer and closer to the edge.

The Mandalorian nearly collapsed on top of you, but he caught himself on his elbows, caging you in his hold. Silver beskar making up his helmet hovered over your face, his eyes trained on yours. A whimper escaped from your throat when the head of his cock brushed against a particular spot. He honed into the point and hit it repeatedly, with precision. 

Your fingers dug into his bare back, most likely leaving crescent marks in their wake. He dropped his helmet into the crook of your neck. The action allowed him to hear every sound you made. Sometimes simple breathy moans, interrupted by his slow, yet strong thrusts. Other times, you’d attempt sentences:

“Ma- Mando. Maker, you feel so good.”

“K-kriff you’re b-big.”

“Mm-mm-mm, don’t, stop.”

A knot coiled in the pit of Mando’s stomach. He threw his head back into a plush pillow and focused his grip towards the tip of his cock. Quiet, slick sounds filled the space of the metal-lined bunk. His breath quickened as his imagination delved deeper.

Mando’s thrusts slowed to a near halt as he raised an arm and propped an elbow to hit a switch on the wall. The space went dark. Everything went silent.

Hiss.

Tunk.

In a hurry, he muttered, “can I kiss you, baby?”

Instead of replying in words, you craned your neck to meld your plush lips with his. Delightful needles ran up and down Mando’s body in pleasure. In disbelief. Feeling your lips on his was something he’s only dreamt of, knowing that completing the action would be a risk to his Creed.

But at this moment, Creed be damned, he craved the motions of your mouth against his. Fighting and expressing a bond that he longed for, slick lips slid against each other in a battle of lust-influenced emotions. Mando pushed his tongue into your mouth, and in the same motion, pushed his cock further into your wet heat.

His mouth swallowed your moans as he rutted the head of his cock against the particularly sensitive spot within your walls. The grip you had on his broad back became stronger. Skin against his hips brushed against the skin of your inner thighs, and your legs captured his body closer to yours. Lips tightened against his, shifting into a portrayal of pleasure, leaving you unable to kiss him properly. In response, the Mandalorian buried his head into the crook of your neck and placed sloppy kisses along your skin.

Almost there. Jaw clenched and teeth gritting, Mando fucked into his fist at a brutal pace. Soft pants accompanied the slick sounds in filling the space of his bunk. Maker, he hoped you were asleep. He didn’t know how much louder he’d get, and more importantly, how much control he had over his volume.

Unable to maintain a steady grip on his back any longer, your grasp traveled to the soft, wavy locks of his hair. The Mandalorian groaned. He didn’t realize how much he craved that simple contact, one many took for granted. Your fingertips massaged his scalp, and it was as if you massaged all of his worrisome, negative thoughts away. 

“Oh, kriff Mando, keep going. F-fuck, you make me feel s-so good.”

A few more firm, yet gentle thrusts of his cock made you squeeze your soaking walls around his shaft. His balls felt heavy against your ass. He knew he was close.

“Mando, oh, oh, Mando, I’m gonna cum,” you whined out, the sound filled his ears as he continued his pace and his languid kisses against your neck.

Mando squeezed his eyes shut. Teeth dug into the thin skin of his lower lip, the hairs of his mustache tickled the skin directly below his lip. Large hands maintained the quick pace along the silky skin of his cock. Just a few more strokes and he was done for.

A knot twisted and turned in the pit of his stomach, and he fucked into your glistening seam with more vigor. Your moans became strangled whines. Each escaping gasp climbed octaves until you finally snapped and clamp your pussy around his cock.

“I’m cumming, oh fuck. Oh, Din!”

The Mandalorian snarled as thick streams of cum erupted from the head of his cock. Translucent, white liquid covered his stomach and chest. His head spun as the waves of pleasure washed over him. The sensations dug themselves deep into his bones and he felt like he was floating. A cloud of ecstasy trapped him and he didn’t want to leave. Seeking to draw his orgasm out longer, he continued fucking his hand until the sensations became too much. Mando’s chest dramatically rose and fell in the aftermath. Panting, he looked down at the mess he made on himself.

That was the strongest orgasm he’d ever had.

Reaching towards a different cabinet, he grabbed a soft towel and began wiping up his mess. Thoughts rushed throughout his mind, in contrast from his usual mindset after masturbating. In the chorus of wandering thoughts that still occupied his mind, one made itself bold and prominent.

Maker, he needs to ask you on a date.

–

Mando stood a meter or two in front of you. His hands hung uselessly by his sides. Posture slightly askew, you could sense he was doubting himself. Thick fingers played with the strings on the bracelet while he waited for your response.

Your jaw went slack, eyes widened. So you weren’t crazy. Everything added up. He made caf for you every morning. The small ‘good nights’ he gave you every night. The even smaller ones with an added word in Mando’a, one he never said around you. The things he told you, about his son, about his feelings, that he never said to anyone else. How he was careful around you, trying not to look intimidating. He tried to make you comfortable at all times.

He cared just like you cared.

You placed one foot in front of the other, giving Mando time to back up if he wanted. He remained in place as he waited for your approach. The armored man stood like a statue in the hull. The beskar and the metal of the Crest became one. If you didn’t focus on him too much, he almost looked like a statue erected in the middle of the hull. As the toes of your boots met the toes of his, you snaked your arms around his waist and pressed your head to his chestplate.

Mando instantly wrapped you up in his solid arms. His helmet was buried into the crook of your neck, the cold metal delightfully stung your skin, and he squeezed you. The Mandalorian’s large hands ran up and down your back as his hold refused to let you go.

You didn’t want to let him go either. Your body sought fusion with his warmth, with his being. All of the comfort he provided. All of the safety that he gave you. It seeped through his body to yours. A sense of peace washed over you.

Mando’s helmet shifted towards your head more, the modulator crackling near your ear, “Is it safe to say we feel the same?” His broad hand continued to rub along your back. The warmth from his palm created the most soothing sensation you’ve experienced. Bringing yourself out of the state of bliss to recognize the question he was asking, your brows furrowed. He almost sounded uncertain of himself, voice tinged with hope.

You leaned backwards to look into his visor. A Mandalorian. The Mandalorian. Sworn to a creed of combat and honor. Mando didn’t have a problem taking down a dozen people at a time, but confessing his feelings to you made him nervous. A small chuckle escaped from your chest at the realization.

The corners of your eyes crinkled from your laughter. His helmet tilted in confusion. “Yes, Mando, we feel the same.” You raised a hand to hold the crook of his neck, rubbing your thumb along the fabric of his cowl.

He pulled you into another hug, this one with more space between the two of you, so he could look down and into your eyes. Your hands rested on his chest plate, and his rested on your waist. A rumbling feeling against your hands made your head tilt in confusion this time. Mando continued to clear his throat. His breaths got slightly quicker.

“I feel like I need to explain th-,” the Mandalorian cleared his throat once again, “I need to explain the condoms.”

Your eyes widened. He doesn’t have to explain himself, but if he wasn’t going to the brothel, why did he need them? Mando only expressed interest in you, as far as you know.

Oh.

Oh.

The beskar-clad man’s chest rose and fell with a deep inhale and exhale, preparing himself for explaining the condoms on the receipt from the market.

“I was going to ask you out on a date. Just something simple,” he shrugged and brought his covered eyes to meet yours, “I bought your favorite snacks, got us some takeout, and I was going to give you the bracelet then. I just wanted to be prepared in case anything…escalated.” 

Cheeks burning, you took Mando’s hands into yours. You smirked and gave him a light chuckle. “You would try to fuck me on the first date, Mando?”

He looked down at the floor of the hull and shook his head. “I’d only do what you’re comfortable with,” he said, giving your hands a squeeze. 

“You also don’t even know if I would have said yes to a date,” you teased him.

A low rumble resonated from his chest, he hooked a finger through one of your belt loops to pull you closer. “I think I might have made a fair assumption.”

Hands glided up Mando’s chest, and you clasped them behind his neck. “You’ll never know unless you ask…” Another rumble came from his chest. A hand snaked its way from your waist to your chin. Mando’s index finger and thumb grabbed your chin and made you look at him face-to-face. 

“Well, would you like to go on a date with me?” The beskar helmet tilted and gleamed in the faint lights of the Crest’s hull. 

“Yes, Mando, of course I do.” Your eyes took after Mando’s helmet and they gleamed with joy. The dull silver of the hull starkly contrasted your excitement. Warmth between the two of you radiated and exploded throughout the space. Your energies seeped into the metal of the Crest just as your feelings seeped into each other's consciousness.

Mando’s large hand returned to rub long lines up and down your back. “I got your favorite snacks, some takeout…” He reminded you as his speech trailed off.

“How soon can we go on the date?” You asked eagerly in response. Snacks, takeout, and Mando sounded like the perfect combination. A perfect way to turn around the anxious thoughts that clouded your mind not even an hour ago.

“We can do it now…?” Mando suggested slowly.

“Yes! Yes please!” You bounced in place and threw your arms around the Mandalorian. He reciprocated your hug with an even tighter squeeze and pulled away from you.

“Let me find a good place to park the Crest,” Mando walked away and climbed the ladder to the cockpit. You went to follow him, but he turned and stopped you at the base of the ladder. “You stay down here, it’s going to be a surprise.” Before you could respond he bounded up the ladder and began takeoff.

–

Mando pressed his vambrace and the ramp slowly revealed the market in the distance. Lights flashed and others were lit in different colors. Rolling hills were lit up by the faint glow. The sun was fully set, which allowed the sky to display an array of stars.

“This is beautiful, Mando.” You turned towards the man in silver and he wasn't looking at the sky. Not looking at the gorgeous colors streaking out from the center of the market, onto the landscape. Not even the different lights and colors that lit the small town.

His gaze was focused on you.

“I was hoping you’d like it.” He took a few steps closer to you with the market bag, a blanket, and two pillows in hand. Stepping in front of you, he laid out the blanket where the hull’s floor meets the ramp. Reaching into the market bag, he took out an assortment of snacks and a takeout meal for each of you.

“Mando, you didn’t have to do all of this,” you chuckled in amazement.

“I didn’t have to, yes. But I wanted to,” he bends down to sit on the blanket and he offers a hand to help you down. You took it and plopped down next to him, your thigh brushed his as you reached for different food items. Mando leaned on his arms placed behind him, watching in amusement as you enjoyed yourself.

The assortment he managed to purchase amazed you. Each item was something you’ve mentioned to him before. A shiny bag of one particular food, a box filled with something else, and a steaming takeout container of another dish. Relishing the diversity of it all, thoughts of Mando’s enjoyment prodded your mind.

You turn to him, “Aren’t you going to eat?” 

His helmet turned towards you and he waited a second. The helmet. No kriff, he can’t eat with you.

“I’m sorry, I for-.” Mando stopped you.

“You know I don’t mind when you eat in front of me,” he started.

He was right. You felt bad in the mornings when you sipped on your caf and indulged in your breakfast. He was probably hungry after a night’s rest. The Mandalorian told you at the time, “I’m used to it. Mandalorians never bonded over food or eating.”

Expecting the same reasoning to leave his mouth and filter through the helmet, you were shocked when he chose a different path.

“I’ve been planning this for a while, mesh’la,” he paused and adjusted his positioning on the ground, “I’ve been thinking of ways to eat with you…” He explained, and then trailed off. 

He’s been thinking of ways to eat with you. To eat. With you. Something he’s never done with you before. In the past, you’ve tried to get him to, even saying you’d wear a blindfold, but he never wanted to take that step.

And what does mesh’la mean?

“You don’t have to, I understand if-.” You began to tell him.

“I think I found a way that I would be comfortable with,” Mando said.

“What is–. Oh, Maker!” You squealed as Mando scooped you up and placed you in his lap. Your back to him and your legs tangled with his. As soon as you settled, the Mandalorian took his takeout container and brought it between your back and his stomach. 

“There’s one rule,” his modulator crackles in your ear as he rests the temple of his helmet against your actual temple, “you can’t turn around.”

“I won’t,” you squeaked, heart beating out of your chest, “I swear to you.” 

The cold feeling of the beskar disappeared from the side of your head. What you didn’t expect was the hiss of the helmet breaking its seal around Mando’s head, even though it was implied. What you definitely didn’t expect was for Mando to place the helmet just enough forward that you could see it in your peripheral as you ate.

You forgot Mando was a human. He had a head and a face. And his face was not the one that peaked at you from the corner of your eye. His face is the one directly behind your head.

The popping sounds of the food container being opened snapped you out of your thoughts. Mando’s utensils clinked against the sides of the container as he gathered food to put into his mouth. 

“Mmmm,” he grunts out, his mouth probably full of food. A few more seconds went by, “that’s really good.”

His voice.

His unmodulated voice.

It was like honey dripped over your body. Soaked through your skin and traveled through your veins. Soothed you. The warmth between you two increased yet again. Not just physical warmth, but the warmth you felt when you discovered new things about each other. When you discover new ways to care and new things to remember.

“What’s on your mind?” His large, calloused hand found the crook of your knee and gave it a light squeeze. His other hand set his empty food container to the side. That was fast, you thought. But you suppose he eats for business, not for pleasure.

“What does mesh’la mean?” You asked him as you marveled at the sight of the market again. His knees pressed into yours and the hand not on your knee snaked around your waist as he pulled you closer to him. 

He tucked his face into the crook of your neck. His breath fanned over your ear and he tightened his arm around you as he spoke, “Mesh’la is Mando’a,” he hummed as he pecked a quick kiss onto your neck, “Mesh’la means beautiful.” 

You smiled, face heating up, and hummed another question, “and what does cyar’ika mean?”

Mando buried his face into the back of your hair and left another quick peck on your head. He pulled away to mutter near your ear, “Cyar’ika roughly translates to sweetheart.”

Your torso vibrated against his, that’s really sweet, you thought, but you wanted to tease him a bit, “First date and you’re already calling me beautiful, huh? And you’ve been calling me cyar’ika for a while now.” A smirk splayed across your face.

The Mandalorian went stiff and asked, “For a while?” Confusion radiated from him and his beskar.

Your smirk morphed into a small smile. “Sometimes I wait up for you when you go on hunts, or I happen to be awake when you come back,” your heartbeat picks up at your confession, but you continued, “I like hearing you say good night to me. It’s…comforting. But then you started tacking ‘cyar’ika’ onto the end of it.” You shrugged like it was nothing.

Mando shifted underneath you, realizing he’d been caught red handed. Then he countered with, “One year of being crew partners and you’re already planning matching bracelets, huh?”

He got you there.

Softly giggling, you reach an arm backwards and bat a hand at his chest, playfully tapping him. A chuckle comes from behind your head. His hold around your waist fastens and he brings his wrist donning the bracelet out in front of you. He wraps his large hand around yours, the one with your bracelet on your wrist. You peer down and admire the identical weavings of thread.

Mando’s throat clears behind you and he speaks softly next to your ear, “I think you have good taste. It matches my armor,” his knee comes up to nudge yours. A moment of silence followed, “The green is for my son, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” meekly comes from your throat. The broad grasp covering your own gave your hand a squeeze. Mando rested his chin on your shoulder and faced the crook of your neck. Soft breaths fanned over your exposed skin.

“Did I get his color right?” You questioned. He previously said Grogu was a light green color, and you hoped the color on the bracelets mimicked his color.

The Mandalorian brought your joined hands up to focus on the color of the light green thread weaving from between the silver and brown. When he spoke, his tone sounded strained, “Yeah, yeah that’s probably it.”

When Mando last spoke to you about his son, he said it’s been a year or so since he gave them to the Jedi. A year without his little one, the bundle of joy that Mando cherished. Then the reason for his uncertain answer and strained voice washed over you.

“You,” an exhale steadied your soft speech, “You can’t remember his color that well, can you?”

A shaking breath made the man’s torso shudder against yours, “No, I can’t,” he admitted in a tight voice. His face pressed deeper into the crook of your neck and he held you close to his chest. You rubbed circles along the back of his hand in comfort. Hesitantly, you brought your other hand behind you and ran your fingers through his hair.

The texture of it made your heart melt. It was longer than you thought it’d be, you assumed he would keep it short so it didn’t bother him within the confines of his helmet. Soft waves brushed through your fingers. Your fingertips lightly scratched at the roots of his hair on his scalp.

You thought your heart melted, but Mando melted exponentially more. The large frame that was his body nearly crushed yours with the tension he released. A soft groan left his throat and vibrated against your neck. Mando’s body loosely wrapped around yours in a protective shell.

“I was hoping that the green on the bracelet would make you think of him. It could make you remember,” you explained to him, continuing the scratches against his scalp.

Then it was silent. Sounds of your exhales and the small rustling sounds of your fingers through his waves of hair were the only ones that traveled to your ear drums. The Mandalorian was heavy against you, boneless, acting as a beskar-weighted blanket. His warmth permeated from his body to yours. It was comforting. He was comforting.

Then a sharp inhale from Mando, “I have to thank you,” he began.

You nearly snapped around to respond, but you kept your gaze trained on the twinkling lights of the market. “For what?” You asked.

“For everything,” he added.

Was Mando really giving you a job review right now? On your first date? “Mando,” you chuckled and shook your head, “I’m just doing my job.”

“I’m not talking about the job, cyar’ika.”

Your eyes widened. Oh. No words exited your mouth.

Mando continued, “I need to thank you for making me feel safe. You’re, you ju–,” he sighed in annoyance with himself. “I’m sorry. I’m not too good at this.” His strong arms gave your waist a squeeze. 

Before you could reply, he resumed his train of thought. “You make me feel emotionally safe. I know I can tell you anything. Share whatever is on my mind. And you’ll be there for me,” a deep inhale interrupted his speech, “and I haven’t had that since I had Grogu.” 

His tone was strained once again and he shook his head while it was nestled near your neck. Gaining composure, he explained, “People look at me and see this bloodthirsty Mandalorian. They’re scared of me. Kriff, I’m sure some have mistaken me for some emotionless droid,” his speech snarled at the word.

You smirked at his distaste for the metal beings, but you didn’t want to interrupt his thoughts with a snide remark.

“But you see me as human. As a man with emotions and thoughts. You talk to me like I’m just a guy that happens to be covered in beskar.”

That was where you butted in, “Because that’s what you are Mando. And you’re not just some guy. You’re a Mandalorian, an actual one, the ones that no one seems to recognize today. Mandalorians are bound to a Creed of honor. Mandalorians stick to their word. They rescue. They protect. They care,” you paused to grasp the hand laying on top of yours, “You’ve told me enough about your Creed for me to realize that very little of it is truly about being solely physically and mentally intelligent. It’s about the combination of those strengths with emotional intelligence. Because what is using your head if you aren’t using your heart too?”

Mando was silent behind you. His body was stiff, no longer relaxed. Shit, did you offend him? You weren’t Mandalorian, should you have been interpreting the Creed?

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be analyzing your Creed like that. I’m not Ma-”

“No,” he stopped your speech, and resumed his, the baritone of his voice being small within his throat, “You got it all right.” Strong arms squeezed you. Mando held onto you as if someone threatened to take you from him. His face returned to its spot by your neck and he whispered, “Maker, you’re perfect.”

The words sent chills down your spine. Before you could fully relish in the implications of his phrase, small kisses were being planted up and down the curve of your neck. Eyelids closed, you bit your lip at the brushes of his lips against your skin. No longer distracted by the visuals of the market lights, your attention focused on the feeling of his face on your neck. Soft lips meticulously placed pecks up your neck. His face slid against your warm skin, leaving a prickling sensation in its wake.

Prickling…your eyes widened and you straightened up, just slightly.

Mando froze in his tracks, voice laced with concern, “you okay?” 

You cleared your throat and let out a small chuckle, “Yeah, yeah, I just,” your body vibrated against his as you chuckled again, “I just realized you have facial hair,” you explained as your face heated up. Half in embarrassment of not realizing earlier, and half in excitement. You loved facial hair.

“Oh. Yeah,” he hesitated, “do you not like it? I can shave if you-.”

You stopped him before he could finish, “No! No, I mean. I like facial hair,” you explained sheepishly.

A smirk grew on Mando’s face, and you didn’t even have to see him to know it was there. Stubble prickled on the skin of your neck once again. This time, the man rubbed his face across the slope in front of him in an attempt to tickle you.

A giggle bubbled out of your chest and you twisted in his hold. The fanning of his breath over your neck created a delicious warmth on your skin. Warmth that soothed the pin pricks from the man’s stubble. Mando’s trunk-like arms caged you in and kept you tight in his grasp. He stopped after only a few seconds, placing soft kisses on the skin that he just scratched.

The kisses down your neck became more intense. Mando would graze his teeth against your skin and tighten his hold around you. The small marks trailed further down your neckline. Receiving the trail of small marks felt like a dream. Each mark gave you a slight pinch, sending your hips rocking backwards to grind against him. 

A soft moan left Mando’s lips and vibrated against the skin of your neck. His grip tightened near your waist and brought your hips closer to his groin. Soft lips returned to your neck, the other side this time, and began placing small hickeys down your skin. One place in particular, where your jawbone meets your neck beneath your ear, sent your ass grinding down into his lap. 

Then you feel him.

And you kind of freak out.

He’s big.

Were you ready for this? Of course you’ve dreamt about it, you kriffing came to the thought of it, but the opportunity overwhelmed you. Your mind raced. You felt like you didn’t consider all of the factors that went into this. 

Sure, you’ve had sex before, but what if you weren’t good enough for Mando? You’re still clothed and he already has you hot and bothered. You haven’t done anything to him yet. You had to do something or else you’re going to be a dead fish in bed. Were you ready to actually do something with him?

Your hips stilled, and of course Mando noticed.

His actions also paused, “You okay, cyar’ika?” He asks softly. Mando’s words make their home in your heart and you melt. You are okay. You’re with him. But being with him made you anxious. Mando didn’t deserve to put up with shitty sex.

“I just,” you paused and shifted in Mando’s lap, “I think I need to lie down,” you lied to him. He quickly reached for his helmet and sealed it back around his head. The pair of you organized the garbage and the remaining snacks, quickly getting ready for bed.

–

You were almost there. You could’ve done it. You dreamt about it for months and yet you chickened out. His hands were right there, and you got up and went to bed. Dank farrick.

Mulling over your thoughts, you laid on your bed and stared at the ceiling of the Crest’s hull. You could masturbate to the thought of him again, sure, but it just wouldn’t compare. The thoughts of Mando’s hands, his broad chest pressed against your back, the warmth of his legs wrapped around yours haunted your consciousness and refused to allow you to fall asleep. 

It was only amplified by the thought Mando put into the date.

“I’ve been planning this for a while.” He said.

How long? He happened to get your favorite snacks, your favorite takeout, he went back to get the bracelets, and he parked the Crest to get an amazing view of the light-filled market. Mando put all this thought into the date and he made some moves on you.

Your heart and clit were beating at the same loud pace. 

In an attempt to focus on something other than the ghost of Mando’s hard-on on your lower back, you opened a side door and exited the Crest. The door opened and closed quietly with your careful treatment of the doorknob.

The market is still it up beautifully, projecting the colored waves of light onto the surrounding hills. You sat just a few feet away from the Crest, knees tucked up towards your chest, your chin resting on your kneecaps. After a couple minutes of sitting outside, you found that the best way to distract yourself was trying to count all of the different vendors you could see. The lights made it difficult to distinguish one stall from another, and it didn’t help that the market was sizable. 

Forty four, forty five, forty six…

“Do you mind if I join you?” The voice came from the exact man you were trying not to think about. But he was also the exact man you wanted.

You looked back towards him and patted the ground beside you. He accepted your silent invitation and plopped his body down next to yours. A breeze swept through the night landscape and left you covered in goosebumps, slightly shivering. Mando must have noticed, since he draped his long, black cape over your shivering frame. His arm followed the embrace of the cape and pulled you closer towards his heat-radiating body. The other arm snaked under your legs and he barely lifted you, so you settled into the shape of his body. Just like Mando’s cape, silence fell over the both of you. His grip around you remained tight while he did his best to warm you up.

“Why are you sitting out here?” He whispered to you. The helmet crinkled his voice, resulting in the crackling of the syllables. Delicacy laced the syllables that flowed into your ears, despite their choppiness. 

Your shoulders rose and fell and you followed it with a sigh, “I was just thinking too much. Couldn’t fall asleep.”

The shoulder leaning against Mando vibrated when he hummed in understanding.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He offered.

Your head fell to his shoulder to rest. The pair of you talked about a good majority of things. Whatever ended up on your or Mando’s mind. You found it to be a great stress reliever and knew that the Mandalorian did as well. If you didn’t get it out, by talking to Mando, the regretful feeling would just ruminate in your brain forever. At this point you highly doubted that this was a conversation topic that could cause Mando’s feelings about you to change.

“I just feel dumb.” You deadpanned.

“Dumb? Why’s that?” He responded immediately.

You paused and considered your choice of words. Being blunt was probably the best course of action. It was Mando after all.

“You wanted to do more with me and I rejected you,” you sighed and pressed your face into his shoulder.

Another quick response followed, “That’s completely okay. You don’t have to do something just because I want to do it. I apologize if I made you uncomfortable earlier. I meant what I said. We’re only going to do what you–.” 

Your head left his shoulder and faced his helmet to look into the depths of the thin black line running horizontally across the beskar. His speech stopped at your action.

“I wanted to do it. I wanted you to do it,” you admit.

Mando’s bones turned to jelly beneath you–you didn’t realize how tense he had gotten–and yet his helmet tilted in confusion.

Before he could ask the question, you answered, “I was nervous. I haven’t done anything like that in a while. Maybe I wasn’t going to be good in bed.” Your face returned to his shoulder to nestle itself into the crook of his neck.

His embrace tightens around you once more. The T shaped gaze dropped to meet yours and he shook his head from side-to-side.

“Cyar’ika,” his chest jumps from a chuckle, “all you have to do to be good in bed is lay on the mattress,” he slowly grits out. His voice is so smooth you’re surprised his speech is still modulated. Still in doubt, the corner of your mouth pinched upward and your brows bunched together.

He noticed the uncertainty of your expression and slowly added, “I also haven’t done anything like this in awhile,” a pause was accompanied by the shaking of his head and a harsh exhale, “and I’m kriffing nervous too.” 

A small smile spread across your face at the confession. It did make you feel better. He was going through the same emotions you were. The somersaults of butterflies that wound your stomach into knots. Lightheadedness that flooded through your bodies at the sight of the other. Your emotions were so strong, these physical responses accompanied them.

The Mandalorian’s actions put you in a state of awe for the trillionth time. He does things that would make you freeze, panic, scream for help, for his help. Physical conflict was like breathing to him. It was involuntary. Completed without thought.

So many nerves bubbled within him. All because of you. All he had to do was confess his feelings to you and his composure shattered into a million pieces.

A million pieces you would pick up and put back together. You would reassemble the puzzle that was Mando over and over again. If it meant spending time with him, you would do it for eternity. Each time finding a new piece, a new feature to treasure and combine with the rest. 

Mando continued to hold your body and your gaze. The combination of him and his cape have warmed you up considerably, and you find yourself being languidly pulled closer into his torso. Your butt settled between his two thick thighs. Both of your thighs settled on top of one of his. The warmth and physical contact was appreciated, and you rested your head on the Mandalorian’s shoulder once more. 

You’re quite literally being cradled by him. One of his toned arms finds its way behind your back to keep your torso against his. The other arm found its way to your knees, holding you closer to him as much as possible. A gloved hand runs up and down your thigh once he’s satisfied with the method of cuddling. 

The friction his leather hand creates on your thigh is delicious. Every bit of heat from the contact is being transported throughout your body. You felt heavy and relaxed. But the heat from his hand turned into a burning need. The strokes up and down your thigh got riskier. His hand made its way farther up your thigh. Thick fingers splayed across your clothed limb, the wide spread covered more surface area, which drove the heat from his touch right to your clit. On some strokes, his thumb would graze the inside of your thigh. Almost there, but not close enough.

Bathing in the warmth of his touch, you didn’t realize your eye contact with Mando was maintained. He must have noticed your expressions morph into ones that you make when deep in thought. His thumb grazed the inside of your thigh once more, and you bit your lip at the tingly sensation on your bundle of nerves.

That’s all he needed to see what was on your mind. Still maintaining eye contact, his hand stopped on your upper thigh. Mando’s grip gently tightened as he spoke. The modulated voice sailed across a smooth sea of honey as he laid out his words.

“Tell me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it. Anything, mesh’la.”

You got your do-over. There’s no way you’d reject him now.

The bone of your teeth grazed your lip. Eyes closed, you took a deep breath and gained some composure. Mando’s helmet filled your vision once you opened your eyes. His chest rose and fell in anticipation.

A small smile made its way onto your face. “Can you pick up where we left off?” You suggested.

Rumbling emanated from his chest, his grips on your back and your thigh tightened in delight. He pulled you closer to him in a hug and buried his modulator near your ear.

“Here or in the Crest?”

“Crest.”

The beskar man helped you onto your feet and led you back inside of the Crest. Once the door was shut and locked, and once Mando triple-checked the security systems, he sauntered over to you. His hands found their way to your waist as he pushed you back in the direction of his bunk. 

His bunk.

Before you could fully process it, you were lying on the long bed watching Mando as he stood, removing his armor from his body piece by piece. Just his flight suit remained on his large frame. He hardly gave you time to admire him before he sat beside you and pulled you into his lap once more. The Mandalorian’s hands–now bare–settled back into their previous positions. 

Feeling more confident than you were before, you leaned into his neck and placed light kisses along the curve. A deep groan rumbled from his chest and his hands ran up and down your body. You playfully bit the skin of his neck and sucked, bringing a hand up to rest on his neck to keep it in place. Your hickey-like kisses trailed upwards towards his jaw. Once you met the juncture where his neck met his jawbone, you sucked on his skin harder and left a light mark. 

He loved that. The grip on your thighs and waist became impossibly tight as he growled. Every noise that escaped from his helmet went straight to your clit. Your hips ground downwards onto his thigh, but to no avail. A look of desire painted your face but a sound of frustration–desperation–left your mouth.

Mando hummed in agreement. The low tone through the modulator questioned you, “Where do you want me to touch you first, mesh’la?”

You turned into a puddle. A horny, wet, puddle.

“I’ll do anything.” He said conclusively. 

Biting your lip, your brows furrowed in delight at the sensation of his grip. The hand on your thigh was higher up your thigh than any time before. Warmth from his palm traveled from the neurons in your quads to the nerves in your clit.

“Rub my clit? Please?” you asked. Desperation leaked from your mouth at the request. If Mando didn’t put his hands down your bottoms in the next thirty seconds, you were sure you were going to explode.

Mando’s chest vibrated as he chuckled, “Mmmm. I like it when you ask nicely. Good girl.”

Oh. Fuck.

You were molten beskar in his hands, at his forge. You trusted him. His skill. His knowledge of you. His perceived obligation to you. And you were ready to be shaped. Molded. Created into something new. With his support. 

His stare remained on your face as his fingertips found your clothed clit. You tensed at the contact and his motions slowed. 

“That alright?” He asked, concern melded to the grit of the voice that left the modulator.

A confirming hum vibrated from your throat. Your nod accompanied the sound.

“Have to hear you say it.” He responded. At first you thought he was teasing you, but the tone he used and the intense stare that was glued to your face said otherwise. 

“I need to and I want to make sure you’re alright every step of the way, yeah?”

You nodded up at him.

“Good,” he reacted to your body language, “then be a good girl and tell me if this is okay. Tell me how it feels.” His voice dropped incredibly low with his demand. It was gentle, but firm.

A shaky exhale escaped from your mouth as you whispered your reply, “I-I want you to keep going. It feels so good.” Wide eyes looked up at Mando and he continued his motions.

The friction of his fingers on your clothed clit was delicious. Each movement sent sparks up and down your limbs. Your head fell to rest on Mando’s shoulder as he maintained his pace. His gaze remained glued to yours. 

Then you realized he was wearing too many clothes. The friction against your clit was amazing, but you wanted as little friction as possible between your bodies. Reaching down, your fingers tugged on the edge of Mando’s shirt.

“Can I take this off?” You asked.

“Of course,” he replied. Thick fingers deftly undid the buttons at the top of his shirt and you aided him in pulling it over his head. The tight long sleeved layer was removed in the same fashion. Mando’s chest, littered with dark hairs, filled your vision. Broad plains of skin rose and fell, making his pecs stand out on his chest. Strong shoulders that framed his chest only made his body look wider.

While you were gawking at him, Mando slid his hands partially under your shirt and around your waist. His fingertips pinched at the hem of your shirt.

“Can I take this off?” He echoed your previous question.

You nodded and muttered, “yes,” in response, helping him pull the fabric over your head. 

His fingers became more confident and he applied more pressure, quickening the strokes of his fingertips over your clothed bundle. Your jaw dropped in response. As you returned Mando’s stare, your eyelids drifted downwards over your eyes, but not all the way. Your breaths were more audible, bordering on being moans.

Mando seemed to love your reactions, the hand you placed on his neck rumbled as he let out a guttural moan. He picked up his pace in response. The clothing between your bundle of nerves and his fingers created the perfect friction. Wetness pooled in your underwear with the increasing speed of the Mandalorian’s thick fingers.

Then his digits left your clit.

You let out a slight whine, disappointed at the loss of his touch. Before you could question him, his fingers dipped just below your waistband. Not enough to really feel anything. Just enough to make a point.

Making eye contact with Mando, his visor tilted in questioning.

“Can I pull these down?” He asked gruffly.

You nod at him, knowing your gaze is burning into his from behind his beskar. 

“Do it,” you half demand, half plead, “it feels so good when you touch me.”

His helmet drops next to your temple in reaction to your words. A crackle escapes the modulator with his harsh exhale. Without hesitation, his hand slid down past your waistband and brought your bottoms with it. Mando threw them to the side and slipped his hand down your underwear. His fingers easily found the pressure point of pleasure past your mound.

You thought the feeling over your clothes was delicious. The feeling of his bare hands on your bare clit was divine. Nothing could replicate the feeling. Nothing came close to the sensations he willed your body to produce. The sensations he produced with just his fingertips.

Mando resumed the slow pace he set previously. He was testing the waters, seeing if the feeling was just as good before. Your hips bucked up into his hand and another exhale left his helmet, this one quicker.

“Mmmm, okay, okay,” the modulator let out a soft understanding.

His fingers sped up to reach the fast pace he had set over your clothed clit. This time, the feeling was a thousand times more potent. The fibers facilitated most of your pleasure before, but now it was all Mando. Rough skin on his fingertips, created by years of pulling triggers and colliding fists, produced amazing friction. A feeling so electrifying you swore you could feel every ridge and valley of his fingerprints.

Your cunt squeezed around nothing and you mewled in desperation. Mando’s helmet still stung your temple with the cool temperature of the metal. His breathing was heavy, arm stiff, making sure your pleasure was maintained.

One circle around your bundle. Then another. And another. The pleasure was phenomenal, which caused your wetness to leak from your hole.

Mando looked down and groaned at the sight.

“Ffuucckk. So wet for me.” He gritted out, continuing the pace of his fingertips around your nub.

Your hips attempted to follow his motions to make more friction, but to no avail. Mando’s fingers were amazing, but his digits just on your clit weren't how you wanted to cum.

The sentence flowed through your brain: “Have to hear you say it.”

Before when you were sitting in Mando’s lap, his fingers inching towards your waistband, you didn’t know if you were ready. You didn’t know if you would be enough. Hesitation blocked your desire and you worried about taking too much and giving too little.

But now you wanted it all. 

Everything you thought about before. His hands. His fingers. His lips. His unmodulated voice. His cock.

You needed it.

It was as if Mando had a switch to turn you off and on. The motions of his fingers wavered your switch off and on, and your confidence flickered on. No more shyness. You had to be direct, and then you would get what you were desperate for.

“Mando…mmmm…M-Mando,” you attempted your request.

His fingers slowed, his attention divided between your speech and your clit. “Yes, cyar’ika?” His grip on your back tightened, indicating that he was listening.

You bit your lip in nervousness, but mustered up the confidence to finally say what you needed, “I want you to f-finger me,” you said between waves of pleasure.

Mando stopped altogether and dipped his fingers lower, edging his reach towards your hole. One finger prodded at your entrance and that feeling alone made you squirm.

More liquid seeped from your seams and your thoughts returned to the ones you had earlier today. You wanted to kiss him. So badly. 

Biting your lip at the thought, you accidentally stuttered out, “I-I w-want.” You realized your request was ridiculous and buried your face in his shoulder, acting as though nothing ever left your lips.

His fingers trailed upwards along your wetness and then back down, hesitating before he began your request. Confused, you brought your head up to look at him.

“What do you want, baby?”

Baby.

Kriff.

You shook your head, “It’s nothing.”

His helmet tilted in a, “I know you’re lying,” type of way. “It isn’t nothing, and we both know it,” he gently reasoned. A large hand ran up and down your back, the other rested on your sex. 

Shaking your head once again, your eyes widened and the corner of your mouth turned up in matter-of-factness, you whispered, “You wouldn’t do it.”

Immediately, “Try me,” he calmly demanded.

Kriff it. The most he would do is reject you.

“I want you to kiss me.” You confessed.

The T of his visor stared at you blankly. In contrast to the steady gaze of his helmet, his chest heaved and lowered at a faster rhythm. 

Then you were on the mattress, Mando was standing up in his bunk, going for the door. Dread hit you like a brick wall. 

“Mando, Mando I’m sorry. I knew it was ridiculous! I-I shouldn’t have even asked,” you pleaded to him.

Then it was dark. And a large pair of hands were on your waist. 

Hissss.

Your brows furrowed in confusion and your eyes remained wide in a pleading expression. 

“Relax.”

The word dripped from Mando’s lips and traveled to your ears. His tone was like thick, warm honey. A soothing bass resonated throughout the room and into your bones. Once the tone reached the marrow within them, they turned to jelly. Your body slumped into Mando’s broad hands.

A dip in the mattress alerted you to his positioning within the bunk. He sat beside you, hands remained around your waist, and he gave you a slight tug as a request to move closer to him. Once you were close enough, Mando slid you into his lap to resume your previous entanglement. 

Your head relaxed on his shoulder and he pulled your torso closer to his with the tree-trunks he had for arms. Instead of his hand slithering down to find the band of your underwear, it traveled up your arm and towards the crook of your neck. The Mandalorian’s thumb rubbed soothing circles on your jaw, just in front of your ear. He shifted a bit, and then you felt warm air fanning over your face.

His helmet was off. The room was dark. Yet you knew that you were looking him right in the eyes. You knew his face was centimeters away from yours. The series of events amazed you. If the lights were on, his Creed would be broken. You didn’t know if the Creed had a clause about being helmetless in the dark, but you knew this situation was risky.

And yet Mando was willing to put his Creed at risk. Just to kiss you.

As if he was reading your mind, his thumb halted its motions. The air that fanned over your face did so with a higher intensity.

The honied voice washed over you again, “I’m going to kiss you now, mesh’la.”

In shock, you could merely nod and whisper, “Please, Mando.”

You daydreamed–and actually dreamed–about this moment for months. Months. Different visions clouded your mind. Soft, supple kisses could be placed on your lips. Feather lip and hesitant in how they approached. Or the kisses could be rough and demanding. Muscles and embouchures would battle in combat motivated by lust.

In reality, Mando was a mix of both. His lips were soft, yet firm. Intention laced the way he moved his mouth against yours. Saliva soon wet both pairs of lips in your entanglement. Your mouths fell into a synchronized rhythms of pecks, tongues, soft bites, and sloppy kisses.

You were so focused on his lips that you didn’t notice the calloused hand making its way down your underwear. His fingers rubbed your clit once more and your hips bucked into his hand. Teeth clashed together as Mando smiled into your kisses.

He placed shorter, close mouthed kisses on your lips and pulled away to speak. Tension from the waistband of your underwear alerted you to Mando’s gesture.

His warm breath fanned over your face, “Can I take these off, baby?”

You nodded vigorously, realizing he couldn’t see you, you stuttered out, “Y-yes, please.”

In haste, the underwear was peeled from your legs and thrown into the darkness of the man’s bunk. Warm, wet lips crashed onto yours once more. You reached up and tangled your fingers into his hair. Soft waves traveled through your hands as they ran through his locks. 

The Mandalorian let out a low groan at the presence of your fingers in his hair. Firm and demanding lips met your mouth, and small bites pinched your lower lip from time to time. You supposed that this was one of the first times someone carded their fingers through his hair. 

Then you felt a rough finger at your soaking entrance. You clenched your walls around nothing in response. His fingers needed to be inside you. Fantasies have filled your mind’s eye about them for months. They’re thick, and you know the digits would stretch your wet hole. Thoughts of the tasty feeling manifested into words.

“Kriff, plea-please Mando. I want your fingers in my pussy,” you pleaded.

He stopped kissing you, but his breath remained close. The motion that was in his lips translated to his finger. One thick, large digit sunk into your wet heat.

From between the clouds of pleasure that fogged your head, you heard Mando’s syrupy voice in your ear, “You’re going to cum like this.”

Your body melted into his. Reaching up, you grabbed where you thought his face was. After a second of wandering in the darkness, your hand cupped his jaw and kept his face in front of yours.

Soft moans and gentle groans emanated from your chest. Each individual knuckle of his finger rubbed along your walls and left its own unique feeling. Mando pumped his middle finger into you slowly. After you were used to the feeling, it was as if his finger was the one pulling moans from your throat.

Mando picked up his pace and you began to pant, moans mingling between your loud exhales. Gripping his jaw and his neck, you anchored yourself to him. His large arms were easily holding you against him, and his torso was solid, but the deft finger in your wet pussy made you feel like you were levitating off of him.

“Maker, baby. I knew your pussy would get fucking soaked,” he gritted into your ear.

Wet sounds of his finger pushing in and out of your heat filled the darkness of his bunk. Your legs were spread wide in his lap, allowing Mando room to curve his wrist to push his finger along the tight walls of your sex. His fingertip traveled and searched, like a hunter after a bounty, and it finally found its reward.

Your hips jumped into his hand at the euphoric feeling. Awe swept over you. You thought Mando was going to be attentive, but attentive was too light of a word for his focus. 

Groaning, he remarked, “Mmmm. That’s it, huh? That’s my girl.”

The Mandalorian was obsessed. His obsession led him to hit the pressure point on your soaking walls over and over again. Mando’s chest rumbled when your pussy clenched around his fingers. Resistance against his fingers only spurred his actions further.

The grasps of your hands tightened around his face and neck. Every muscle in your body clenched. Your face was screwed together from pleasure. Not only was your body taught, your moans were too.

“Nnnghh, oh fuck. M-Mando, yes.”

All because of one of Mando’s fingers.

Your grasp on his jaw shifted when he inquired, “You want another finger, mesh’la?”

Without thought, you moaned in response, “Yes! Oh Maker, please Mando!” 

An empty feeling in your pussy almost made its way to your brain, but then you felt the stretch. Two of his fingers made you see stars, and the delicious stretch created by his thick digits went right to your clit.

His chest vibrated against your shoulder as he let out a deep, rumble, “That’s my good girl.”

A whimper escaped from your throat and your hips ground onto his fingers.

“I- mmf, I thought about this so many times,” you admitted.

Mando growled, “Fuck. Yeah? Tell me what else you thought about.”

His fingers picked up their pace, hitting that soft spot on your walls repeatedly. The Mandalorian made you a whimpering mess in his arms. More wetness weeped from your seams, dripping out past his thick fingers.

“I-, oh, fuck, I th-thought about y-your cock,��� you confessed another fantasy that plagued your thoughts.

“Mmmm. What about my cock, cyar’ika?”

The sounds of your wet pussy and both of your moans filled the small space of Mando’s bunk. 

Shhlkt. Shhlkt. Shhlkt.

“H-how you’d st-stretch my pussy w-with it,” you managed between whimpers and shaky exhales.

Fingers fucked into your messy hole faster and faster. “Is that what you want, mesh’la? Need me to stretch your pretty pussy out?”

“Yes, yes. Oh-oh fu-fuck, please,” you begged him. The hand on his jaw brought his lips down to meet yours. Mando’s tongue immediately dove between your lips, wrestling with yours in vigor. Rough, scarred skin was grounding in your hands. Each pump of his fingers tightened your muscles, curling your figure into his strong hold.

“You want my cock next, baby? Hm?” He cooed at you, never faltering the rhythm of his fingers.

Your mouth fell away from his when your jaw dropped. “Mh-mmm-mhm. Yes, please!” You squealed in reaction.

His face leaned down to hover in front of yours, “Then cum on my fingers, pretty baby,” he growled to you.

Shhlkt. Shhlkt. Shhlkt.

A few more pumps and your wet walls clamped down on Mando’s thick fingers. Broken gasps left your mouth as your body stiffened in his strong arms. Your legs shook and you left crescent marks on the man’s back.

Despite your body-shaking orgasm, the man continued his motions until you placed a hand over his to push it away. Your limp body slumped into his, the waves of pleasure left a warm sensation glowing in your skin. 

No amount of dreaming could have predicted the feeling of Mando beckoning an orgasm from you like he swore to do it. The situation you were in wasn’t exactly what you dreamt of, but the reality was so much better.

A strong hand grazed your back, leaving a trail of heat from its up and down motions. Another hand pulled you in closer to him, and the warm air from his breath made its presence known on your face.

The tone he used starkly contrasted the growls from earlier, “How was that? Are you feeling okay, cyar’ika?” A deep tone, covered in honey, was laced with a small amount of concern.

“Mando…holy shit,” you said breathily. 

Silently chuckling at the state you were in, the Mandalorian peppered light, slow kisses on top of your head and over your face. You relished in the feeling. His lips mimicked the sentiments of the kisses he placed on your wrist earlier in the night. 

“This means everything to me.” 

The phrase echoed in your mind. Of course Mando let you know before that. He didn’t have to say it, but it showed in his actions. Every cup of caf. Every conversation. Every inquisitive response he would give after you told a story. Every small intention behind each action built up within you, and you guided Mando’s lips to meet yours.

Your lips moved in sync and in slow motion. Ridges and valleys imprinted on your lips and in your memory. If Mando was dedicated to his Creed, you would be dedicated to the set of lips pressing against yours. The set of lips that made you laugh. The lips that reassured you. The lips you looked forward to hearing produce words everyday.

You didn’t even know what they looked like.

And you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. They were his lips. Mando’s lips. That’s all that mattered.

After a long stint of sloppy kisses and crescendoing moans, Mando removed his lips from yours. He was panting and en route to placing the same sloppy kisses onto your neck. His plump lips traveled down, leaving saliva marks in their wake, and then they trailed back up, settling next to your ear.

The thin skin of his lips tickled the shell of your ear as he spoke, “Still want me to fuck you, baby?”

Baby.

He’s said it before, but the word still made you squirm a small amount in his arms. Your teeth imprinted on your lips before you let out a meek, “Yes, please.” If the lights were on, Mando would see your wide eyes and your scrunched together brows. As if you had to beg him for it.

Kisses between the two of you resume as the Mandalorian shifted both of your positions on the mattress. His strong arms still clutched your figure as he slowly leaned downwards, until the pair of you were lying on the bed. Both of your hands reached up and weaved your fingers into the soft waves on his head. Mando’s thick hands traversed the planes of your body, randomly grabbing onto you and giving you a slight squeeze where his hands were.

“Uhhhgg, fu-fuck,” left his chest and escaped from his throat when you gave his hair a small tug. One of his firm, capable hands reached down and encouraged you to spread your legs. In the same motion, he shifted upwards to settle between them. 

Your locked mouths never broke. Mando’s lips remained on yours as if he were tethered to them, like they were the only thing keeping him in this universe. His groin pressed against yours and your hips bucked upwards at the feeling. Your mouth watered, like it was somehow conditioned to, after sensing the large curve of his cock covered by black fabric.

One of your hands reached downwards and palmed his shaft through the clothing. Mando’s hips ground down into yours in response, and he let out a low growl.

Your fingertips found the elastic waistband of his sweatpants and tugged on it in suggestion. Before you could even ask the question, the Mandalorian sat up, leaving your upper body to feel the cold air of the bunk. 

Shuffling came from in front of you. Then a soft, muted, plop.

The man was back onto you like it pained him to be away. Moans and rumbling exuded from his chest as he kissed you. Firm muscle of his tongue lapped against yours, challenging you to lustful combat. You accepted and the volume of your pleasure joined his. A couple kisses felt like forever, but it was the best eternity that you could be stuck in.

Mando’s body shifted lower to grind his hips against you once more. His thick shaft slid through your folds. A whimper came from your mouth as the head of his cock grazed your clit. Moans from the man only became more gravely, animalistic. The grit of the vibrations could have convinced you that he put the helmet back on–if his mouth wasn’t sealed to yours.

Swollen lips broke the seal from yours and Mando’s head fell into the space between your head and your neck. Heavy breathing flooded the audio in your brain. Rough hands ran up and down your inner thighs, intermittently squeezing the flesh there. 

A chaste kiss met the side of your head, above your ear You could feel the slick on his lips against your ear as he gently demanded, “Tell me what you want.”

Without hesitation you replied in a whining whisper, “Please put your cock in my pussy.”

The side of your head vibrated when he let out a blissful groan into your hair. His broad chest left yours as he sat up and pulled some items from a nearby drawer. Your face heated in anticipation.

Sounds were the only thing available to you to figure out what he retrieved. A crinkling and then a tear echoed through the bunk.

The condom.

Rubber noises made their way to your ears as Mando rolled the condom onto his shaft. Maker, you wish you could see him. Those large hands forming a strong grip. The thick head of his cock leaking before he puts the contraceptive on.

You thought you’d feel him shift back towards you, but then a short pop echoed through the bunk. Like he just opened a bottle of shampoo. 

Silence. 

Then the slick sounds of his large grip stroking his shaft filled the air.

Your heart swelled at his thoughtfulness. You were definitely wet enough, but the consideration for your comfort made liquid seep from your pussy.

The mattress shifted around you as he lowered his torso towards yours. One side dipped much more and the slick head of his cock teased your entrance. A small moan left your throat at the contact.

Mando paused when he was lined up with your wet hole. A wet kiss was placed on your forehead before he asked, voice strained, “Are you ready for me, my cyare?”

“Yes,” breathy and quick, passed through your swollen lips.

Maker. His cock was thick. The feeling of him pushing into you was fucking amazing.

The walls of your pussy wrapped around him. A delightful stretch pricked at your soaking entrance and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Mando was slow and careful as he pressed his wide shaft into you. Movement ceased once his balls laid flat against the flesh of your ass.

You were so lost in the new sensations that Mando’s heavy breaths suddenly made their way into the foreground of your mind. Warm air fanned against your face and his strangled moans vibrated against your chest. Head heavy, his face found its way to the crook of your neck.

“Oh, f-fuckkk. Kriff, cyar’ika, you put my dreams to shame.”

Your arms weaved around his torso and your fingers ran down his back. His face only pressed further into you, and your walls were straining against the thickness of his cock.

“Mmm-Mando. Please. Fuck me, please.”

Another rumble from his chest vibrated against you. His hips shifted backwards, and the thick head of his cock dragged against your walls. The pair of you moaned in unison, amazed by the feel of the other.

His torso rose up and slipped from your hold and you involuntarily whined. A small, gravely chuckle left Mando’s lips, “You want me back down there, baby?”

Your hands reached into the darkness and collided with the man’s chest. Hairs brushed against your fingers as you attempted a grip to pull him back down. Before you could adjust your hands to pull his shoulders down instead, he lowered himself once more and nestled his head in the space above your shoulder.

“I-I-, nngghhh,” you tried to justify your desire, but the ridges of his cock grazed against the warmth of your pussy just right. But then you tried again. “M-makes me f-feel safe,” you let out a whimper.

“Aghhh, fuck baby.” The speed of his thrusts picked up, but his strokes were still long and languid. “Want you to feel safe with me,” he grunted as his breath fanned over your neck.

You always felt safe with him. Without question. In populated cities with shoulder-to-shoulder crowds. Out in the wilderness, the forest canopy darkening the forest floor. At a run down market with nasty glares being sent your way.

“I always have,” you manage to clearly respond.

Another deep groan resonated in your ear drums. A large, calloused hand found your arm and dragged its grip towards your hand. Thick digits intertwined with yours, and the pace of his hips picked up once more.

The hair above his shaft created mind-numbing friction on your clit. Each stroke sent a shockwave of bliss through your body. The bliss made its way back down to your pussy. Wetness dripped out from around his thick cock. Soft, wet sounds filled the space of Mando’s bunk.

“Kriff, cyar’ika. Maker, you’re fucking soaked for me,” he gritted out into your ear. His mouth found yours and weak, distracted kisses were placed on your lips. 

Fingertips dug into the skin on his back. You reeled into his touch. His thick cock still left a tinge of stretching throughout your walls. Each thrust of his hips soothed and invigorated the sensation in your pussy. You thought back to your fantasies and masturbation sessions. Squeezing three fingers into your soaking hole just to get a taste of how he’d feel. Now you have the real thing. And it’s so much better than your fingers buried deep in your cunt.

“What’re you thinking about, mesh’la?” The smooth baritone filled the air around you.

You bit your lip. How the hell did he know you were thinking? Small gasps left your lips, releasing the skin from the hold of your teeth. You knew he wanted you to say it, but your cheeks became hot in embarrassment.

You probably waited too long, because Mando grunted out, “I can tell you what I’ve been thinking, baby,” a soft grumble came from his chest, “been thinking abou- fuck. About how much of a good girl you are for me.”

Mewling left your throat and you tightened your wet pussy around his hard length. Mando growled and quickened his pace in response. A combination of moans and exhales from your chest were punctuated from each of his thrusts. Thick fingers splayed across the underside of your thigh and shifted your hips slightly upwards.

 He found the spot. The same one his fingers came familiar with.

Brows furrowed and eyes scrunched, you moaned out a whiny, “O-oh-oh, Maker. Mando!” 

“Tell me what you’re thinking about, my cyar’ika,” Mando repeated.

“Y-your cock, oh k-kriff, your cock, Mando,” you let out a shaky breath to conclude, “I’ve been thinking about your cock.”

A low hum came from the man, “What about it, mesh’la?”

You let out a keening noise when Mando reached down and grazed your clit with his thumb, drawing circles on your sensitive nub. Strong fingers splayed across your lower stomach as he rested them there. He listened to your moans and shaky breaths and concentrated on a technique. The Mandalorian figured out your body and had it down to a science. Every movement and sound that resonated from your body was a signal to him. Sound waves from you were like signals, and he replied to your every call.

His hips remained flush against yours as he gave your cunt shallow thrusts, repeatedly brushing the firm head of his cock over the most sensitive point deep within you. The combination of stimulations made your pussy clench around his shaft. A guttural moan emanated from Mando in response.

Your fingertips dug into the broad expanse of his back when you confessed with a whine, “Th-thinking…fuck…you’re so-o bi-ig.”

The thumb rubbing your clit sped up, and Mando’s other hand tightened its grip around yours. You let out a breathy sigh, your cunt only became tighter around him. The Mandalorian’s bunk was filled with the sound of your combined moans, heavy breaths, and light plaps of skin against skin.

Visions of what he looked like fucking you flashed through your mind. His huge shoulders, strong arms, veiny forearms, thick fingers. The delectable tree-thunk thighs accenting his toned waist.

You pictured a man with dark hair, probably brown eyes, with the softest lips your pair have ever met, framed by dark stubble. The man would be focused, brow furrowing in concentration. His eyes rolled back into his head and his jaw fell open when you tightened around him. Just like Mando, he’d growl in response to your wet heat, and bring his jaw back up to tighten it while he focused on you.

His hands. His cock. His voice. His lips. Kriff even the feel of his hair and skin. Each component came together to melt you into a puddle of pleasure. Moans escaped from your throat in higher and higher octaves. Sentences didn’t exist anymore, as you could barely form them.

“Think, oh shit, Ma-Mando. Think I-I’m gonna cum,” your voice sounded desperate as you alerted him.

Harsh breaths blew onto your face from Mando’s focused exertion. Your lip was captured under your teeth for the umpteenth time. Only tight whines left your throat. Pussy squeezing around Mando, your body followed suit. Thighs wrapped around his waist and the embrace of your arms held him close.

The Mandalorian left lazy kisses across your face and muttered endless praises.

“Such a good girl.”

“You’re so perfect, mesh’la.”

“Not going to last long after you, my pretty baby.”

Then his kisses paused from being placed on your face. “Hey,” Mando said to get your attention, “listen to me, cyar’ika.”

You whimpered in acknowledgement, but Mando wasn’t having it, “Have to say yes for me,” he let out between strokes.

“Yes-yes I’m listening,” you quickly blurted. 

Almost lost in your pleasure, you realized you had to actually listen to him. To comprehend and process his words. Not that you weren’t listening to him, but the motions he pressed into you made your mind blur together. Your mind snapped to attention at his words.

Mando spoke in a gentle, yet commanding, tone. The grip sealing your conjoined hands together tightened.

“My name is Din.”

Din.

It was simple and to the point, just like how Mando was. No wasting any time. No frills. No banthashit. Just Din.

Then the tight knot in the pit of your stomach snapped. Sounds that once poured from your body ceased as your figure curled into his. The pleasure was something you couldn’t have fathomed before this. Every cell in your body ignited in a passion filled radiance.

“Din! Din, oh fuckkkk, Diiiin!”

Your wet heat clamped onto Mando’s thick cock, sending him into a frenzy of growls and grunts. His calloused thumb remained on your clit until the spasms of your orgasm fizzled out. Then you were left empty handed, but your body lifted up slightly off of the mattress. The Mandalorian snaked his arms behind your shoulders, his hands under the pillow cushioning your head.

Sloppy kisses met your mouth. Tongues pushed into mouths to wrestle with their counterparts. It was like Mando wanted to memorize every ridge of your lips and tongue. To add them to his Creed. Worship them forever.

His head dropped next to yours and your ears were filled with breathy grunts.

Plap. Plap. Plap.

Softly bounced around the metal walls of the bunk.

“Wanted this for so long, baby.”

“Always thought about you, fuck, I think about you all the time.”

The intensity of his grunts increased and you could feel his cock swelling inside you. Soft lips brushed against the shell of your ear, hastily whispering out, “Where do you want me?”

Digging your fingers into the waves of his soft hair, you eagerly responded, “In the condom, Din.”

“Fuucckkk,” he groaned.

His cock started to twitch within your warm walls. The speed and depth of his thrusts no longer followed a formula. Your head raised slightly when large fists balled the bedsheets into his hands. One of your hands drifted up and down his back, soothing him through his release. He was shaking with every excess thrust he gave your wet heat.

Then his heavy body slumped against yours. Mando’s breath was still heaving, sending strong winds across your neck. Open mouthed kisses were gently placed onto the skin there. Your fingers massaged his scalp and he let out a satisfied sigh. Silence filled the space of the bunk.

What if he regretted this? Was this just a one time thing?

“Mand-,” he cut you off with both his voice and the motions he put the pair of you through.

Suddenly you were on top of him. Your head found the plush meat of his relaxed pecs and you laid your head on them. A firm grip from Mando came to wrap around you. His strong arms held you against him like someone threatened to take you away. Mando’s fingertips traced languid shapes across your back. The tip of his nose dug into your scalp as he pressed a couple soft kisses in your hair.

“Din. Call me Din, cyar’ika.”

Your cheeks rose in temperature at his insistence. Fighting your nerves, you asked, “Is this a one time thing?”

The Mandalorian stiffened underneath you. Here it goes. You’ll have to crawl off his body and resort to the sleeping pad in the hull.

“No. Mesh’la, of course not,” a low baritone soothed your worries. Your head slumped onto his chest even more. Feeling nervous, yet confident–even though you literally just fucked him–you brought a hand up to feel his face.

His hand resumed its drawings of small shapes on your back. Humming came from beneath you when your hand made contact with his stubble. Your thumb grazed the short hairs and your fingers followed the curve of his jaw.

His lips felt as soft as they did when they were on yours. Your fingertips reached upwards a bit more. Longer hairs tickled at your digits and you let out a small giggle.

“Mmf, what, pretty girl?” His tone was laced with sleep and curiosity.

You smiled at him in the dark, “You have a mustache,” you told him in a whisper, as if he didn’t already know. A smile from him creeped up under your touch.

“Mmm. Yes, I do,” he replied matter-of-factly. 

In a teasing tone, you inquired, “Who’s that for?”

A low chuckle from Din’s chest made your head rumble. The hand on your back ceased its movements. His nose dipped down to find yours, aiding him in lining up his mouth to kiss you. A gentle kiss was placed onto your lips, and you were acutely aware of the hairs that made up his mustache.

He sighed in content and murmured, “At first it was for me. I don’t know. I just liked it,” his shoulders went up and down in a shrug, he continued with a hum, “but you like it. So now it’s for you.”

Your face became hot at his words. Slightly embarrassed, you nestled your face into his chest. The thin hairs there wisped at your face. 

Sleep quickly caught up to you and your whole body relaxed against Din’s. His large frame made for a comfortable bed. Muscles, none of them tense, gave you a plush surface to melt into.

Din’s strong arms wrapped around you. He continued to press soft kisses into your hair. Right before you slipped out of consciousness he whispered to you.

“I meant what I said,” he paused to wait for a response. You didn’t register him speaking until it was too late, but he continued his sentence nonetheless.

“I’ll do anything for you.”

Supply Run - Review (part four) (Coming soon)

[gatorbites-imagines]

Kinktober day 19

Din Djarin + Marking (hickeys, bruises, tattoos, etc)

Readers Mirialan, cuz I like the many different species in Star Wars and ill find a way to work them into all my work.

Kinktober 2023 masterlist

Dating Din Djarin was an experience, though not many knew either of you were even together. You were a banished member of the Mirialan people, banished for different levels of theft and smuggling you had done in your younger years, your list of crimes going far as you had done what you needed to do to survive. You had ended up robbing the wrong person, and had been banished as they pitied how someone so young had to resort to stealing.

That didn’t stop you from gaining the tattoos that your people were known for. You were not the only Mirialan that had been banished, and a couple of them possessed the knowledge to gift the tattoos of your people to others as they knew their meaning.

As you grew older, your number of tattoos grew, your face gaining multiple geometrical shapes that any Mirilian with knowledge could tell meant you were a very powerful fighter and a foe they should not dare cross. The tattoos spread to the rest of your body as well, one of said tattoos starting from the top of your spine and going all the way down, the sides curling around your ribcage in more geometrical shapes.

You had met Din on one of your many smuggling runs, back when he had just started out as a bounty hunter for his clan, and he had run around in only a helmet. He had been ordered to bring in one of your allies, they weren’t friends, simply someone paid by the same person, but you weren’t gonna let some greenie barely wet behind the ears newbie think they were better than you.

You had wiped the floor with him that day, the agility and flexibility that came with your species allowing you many ways to overpower him. Din would tell you years later, that was when he had fallen in love with you, because to a Mandalorian, there was nothing more attractive than a partner that could kick your ass.

It took a long time for you to see Dins face, even after you went from allies, to friends, and then lovers. It had something to do with his culture, you never fully understood his clans’ ways, but it was how things were for him, and so you would respect it. Hearing how he sputtered the first time you undressed in front of him still brought a smile to your green lips, as his clan or covert didn’t seem to partake in that act either.

Din always seemed so fascinated by your tattoos, his fingers always stroking across them when you stood near him or when you cuddled in bed, his helmet always on even in his sleep. Even when you had dropped to your knees when he was sitting in his pilot seat after an extra adrenaline bringing mission, where you had quickly asked for permission before throwing off his cod-piece, undoing his undersuit, and swallowed down his quickly hardening length.

The lack of skin-on-skin contact had left Din very sensitive, his helmet picking up his gasps and groans as he fumbled off his gloves so he could caress your tattooed face, his thumb rubbing against a line of tattoos under your left eye. Even through his helmet you could feel his sight stuck on those geometrical shapes, and after that day you had gone down on him, his obsession only seemed to grow.

His hands would always wander, rubbing your tattooed skin, and he seemed to have a great obsession with the ink on your back. You could regularly find yourself laid out on your stomach as he sat on your hips, rubbing his hands up and down your back. After a while Din seemed to come out of his shell good enough, as one night when he was rubbing your back you could feel him grinding his cock into your ass.

Din didn’t leave many hickeys for obvious reasons, the helmet always staying on his head, but there were a few times where he would crawl under your shared blanket, his helmet lifting enough to bite and lick as your skin, leaving hickeys near the ink on your skin after eating you out or sucking you off.

When everything happened with the child, or Grogu you learned his name was, you hadn’t been around for most of it. You had wanted to propose to Din, and had gone to your fellow banished elders to learn about your cultures way of marriage. Your elders ended up teaching you quite a bit about the meaning of your cultures tattoos, even adding a new one on your dominant hand to commiserate you taking down a krayt dragon on tattooine.

You and Din settled down on Tattooine for a while after everything, as Din needed time to heal from the experience and the whole, gaining the darksaber and becoming mandalor, not that he wanted it, but he seemed to be the best option in your eyes.

You had worn a thin layer of bacta patch on your hand ever since gaining your tattoo, wanting to keep it a secret from your lover until the time was right. That time was one evening, the two of you sparring in the area Boba had specifically set up for such things, and like the first time you met, you wiped the floor with Din. Though you could only blame it on him not being in the mood, as he was still healing from everything.

You had him pinned on the floor, the words tumbling from your mouth before you brain could keep up. “Marry me” you blurted out, feeling your cheeks turning a darker shade of green as you realized what you had said. Din had been silent for a while, maybe a while too long as you start to regret having asked, but when he said yes you knew it was all worth it.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to stumble into your shared bedroom at the palace, armor thrown to the ground soon followed by undersuits and whatever else you were wearing. For mandalorians marriage was easy, it was just a vow spoken between two people and it was official, but for your people a tattoo needed to be drawn.

Din seemed to almost be shaking with excitement as you pulled out the tools the elders had given you, immediately laying down on his back and pointing at his chest, right above his heart, when you asked where he wanted it. You had laughed softly at him, but the tattoo gun in your hand buzzed to life, and the symbol of your unification was drawn on his chest.

As you drew the geometrical shapes above his head, Dins hands found your waist as he couldn’t seem to stop himself from grinding his hardening cock up into you, tiny soft moans leaving him from the slight sting of the tattoo being marked on his skin.

You couldn’t help but laugh as you started making the own mark on your own skin, though you weren’t able to put it the same place as Din as that area was already covered. But as you started drawing it on the inside of your thigh, Dins louder moans and harder grinds against you made it clear he didn’t seem to mind at all.

Bacta was rubbed on both tattoos to said with healing, which was where you removed the layer of patch on your hand as well, finally allowing Din to see the mark of a hunter the elders had drawn on you. His breath had stuttered as well as his hips as you felt him jolt and gasp, painting your bottom half in white.

Din had shivered slightly as you grinned down at him, though you froze as you saw him reach for his helmet, finally taking it off and letting it fall to the floor with a metallic clank. He was even more beautiful than you had imagined him, and kissing him felt like everything you had dreamed of. When you started kissing him, you almost didn’t wanna stop, biting and sucking and licking until you were both breathless.

Din flipped you onto your back, an almost teasing grin overtaking his face as he started pressing small feather light kisses against your tattooed chest. “I finally get to show you just how much I love these” he purred, starting to follow the pattern of your tattoos with his tongue and teeth, sucking hickeys into your skin along the way.

After what felt like hours of being praised and loved by your now husband, Din finally opened you up with his fingers as he bit and sucked on your inked chest. Gripping his curly hair, you pulled him into a wet tongue filled kiss as he lifted your legs around his chest, pushing inside you with a groan leaving the both of you as you both felt completed in a way you hadn’t been able to achieve before.

Din was still sensitive, he had always been, and now that you were both completely naked you could grip and kiss him anywhere you wanted, even as the movement of his hips grew uneven and erratic, or as he gasped and whimpered into the hollow of your neck as he grew closer and closer to the edge.

Feeling how close he was getting, you could help but reaching down and pull yourself to completion, twisting and jerking your hand in ways that had you tightening up and your eyes fluttering. That seemed to be the last push Din needed, as he watched your tattooed hand curl around yourself and causing you to pulse white spurts across your chest.

Din groaned loudly as he spilled inside you, both of you gasping at the warmth that filled you up, Din almost collapsing down on top of you. You ended up simply holding one another for a while, bathing in the others warmth and love as kisses were shared between each other until you both caught your breath.

Din mumbled into your neck words in Mandalorian you knew meant that he loved you, but a word was added at the end you didn’t understand. When you asked him what that meant, he had almost looked smug as he told you “It means spouse, I love you, my spouse”, though his cheeks had gained a pinker color. You had laughed softly and pulled him close to you again, repeating the words back to him even if your pronunciation could use more work.

[atsukinakae]

Why?

Skz x male reader(9th member)

It was a rainy day,all the members were practicing for the next tour.

They have been practicing since the morning and it was time for their meal.

"Okay guys, it's time to go eat something"said the leader while the other followed to the door.

"M/n,aren't you hungry?"asked Minho,"Not right now,maybe later".And with that he left and told the others that you weren't hungry and you would eat later.

It was already 7:30pm and you were still feeling dizzy,I mean,you will be feeling dizzy because of the extreme diet that you putted on yourself.Why the extreme diet?,the only thing that answers this is the hate that you received from almost everywhere.

A few minutes later,everyone stopped for a minute to drink water.Your back leaned on the wall while drinking water so that there were no chances of you to faint in the middle of the practice."M/n,are you sure you're okay?,you don't look like that",your eyes travelled to where Chan was,"Yeah I'm ok-",you fainted before you could even finish the sentence.Everyone panicked,then Jeongin approached to you and picked you up went straight to the dorms.

TIME SKIP

You had finally woken after 30 minutes,you could smell some nice aroma coming up from the kitchen,that meant that someone was cooking something.Everyone saw walking directly to where that so good smell came from,one was with tear in his eyes,maybe happy tears or that's what you thought,some were happy and some other were busy in the kitchen that they didn't noticed you.

"Hey Mn,ya fellin' good know?"after Felix spoke everyone's eyes turned to you."Yeah,kinda better..."you voice came out soft and made them feel a bit less worried.You opened your mouth to say something but instead got dragged to the dinning table."Now,no more talking,just eat this"Minho's voice was calm,he wasn't angry that you didn't take care of yourself but instead he was worried,what is something worse could have happened?,what if you ended up on the hospital?

Mini Timeskip

After dinner and a quick shower you were now on bed with Felix who was trying to help you fall asleep.He had his eyes closed, pretending to be asleep so that it made you fall asleep but a few minutes passed you couldn't sleep so you just stared at his face,admiring those pretty freckles of his <3.Your fingers started moving towards his face and touching his freckles,soon Felix opened his eyes just to see you admiring his freckles,"You like my freckles too much don't you?",you nodded in response,"My sun kissed boy",he smiled at you,"Okay,too much chatting,time to sleep".And with that,you falled asleep,and Felix went back to practice.

T I M E S K I P

A loud gasp was heard,cold sweat all over your body,heart pounding against your chest so fast that it felt like it would come out at any second,shaky breath and messy hair.

Yep that was you,after a nightmare where everyone was leaving.

You tried to fall asleep again but after many tries,you gave up and went to the living room.

All the Skzoo plushies(including your Skzoo plushie) around you,a blanket and your fav episode of Chan's room on the TV.

After 20 min had passed,you slowly fell asleep thanks to a song that Chan was signing,his soft voice made you instantly sleep.

While on the practice room of Skz, everybody was picking their things to go home.After a while of driving,they finally reached the apartment and went to open the door."Isn't that hyung's voice?"asked Seungmin,"It is mine but..."said Chan,then Felix walked to the living room and saw you all cuddle up with the Skzoo sleeping peacefully.

"So cute","It reminds me when he was just a little boy training hard".

[the-californicationist]

Good Fences (Fluffuary #15)

FEB15: Sharing Food

You couldn’t remember whose idea the house party was originally, but after celebrating at the bar, you went home with way more than just your squadron of highly accomplished soldiers. Your apartment was filled to the brim with people; Cana’s friends, her acquaintances, and even her professors were littering your quaint abodes, clutching red solo cups and beer bottles, traveling to and fro between the houses through the front doors.

They would have been traversing along the balcony, but John had declared it officially off-limits. He dragged your space heater outside, wrapped you in two furry blankets, and sat with you in the big futon you’d bought recently, cuddling with you in the wee morning hours, smoking his cigar and rubbing his hand across your shoulder absent-mindedly. 

In the background, loud music played from your speakers, and someone had obviously connected their Spotify account because the jams were perpetual. It was all muffled, though, dampened by the glass wall between you and the din, sheltering you from the party’s raucousness. 

Every now and then, a friend would poke their head out to deliver gossip, drama, questions, or more alcohol. This time though, the door slid open and Johnny drunkenly stumbled out onto the balcony, two drinks in hand, holding a bowl of oranges. 

He didn’t say a word to you. Swaying, moving his weight from one foot to the next as if he were on a rickety pirate ship, he smiled as he looked down at the bowl. Awkwardly, and then a little more skillfully, he plucked out two oranges, handing them to his captain who fit them both in his huge paw. 

You both watched Johnny stagger his way back into the house, silent as a mime, and heard him shut the door with a squeaky whine. 

You looked up at John for guidance, and he looked over at you for the same. Strangely, he smiled, and he also stayed silent. You’d been chatting off and on, but it was as if he didn’t want to break the lull. There was something sacred and soft about it. The traffic had died down, and there was only the boisterous bacchanal behind you. 

Before you, however, was an infinite, sparkling, black blanket of stars. They glittered, red and gold and silver, all dusting the glass of your little globe, showing you the vastness of space you’d never be able to comprehend. But, they made you feel just as infinite, somehow… especially when you were with John.  

He made you feel as if you may have known him in every universe. In every version of every world — both good and bad, both ancient and unprecedented — he found you. He sought you out, or you sought him. Searching for him like a woman possessed; exploring your life and turning over every rock and stone to find him. It was as if Lachesis herself had knotted you together, keeping you twined to one another, helping you to avoid her sister’s shears. 

And now, here he was, in this universe. This was the timeline where he hid you from the revel, kept you safe and all to himself, where he dug his fingernail into the tight, waxy skin of an orange to dig out its flesh, feeding you the dripping, sticky lobe as if it were his purpose. The juice ran down his wide thumb and into the pad of his palm, but he paid it no heed. Instead, he waited patiently for your lips to close around his offering, and only when you were satisfied did he lick himself clean. 

You shared the fruit with him and, when he was done, you tasted it in his mouth as he began to kiss you with an intense hunger. It lingered with his smoke on your tongue, and the memory of that flavor became permanent in you like a scar.

Check out the schedule here.

AO3 Link

[thefrogdalorian]

Dincember Day 22: Cozy

Word Count: 855 Rating: General Summary: When Grogu wakes up upset in the middle of the night, both you and Din are concerned for him. But getting cozy and cuddling with his Clan soon brightens the little boy's mood. Content Warnings: Allusions to past trauma but nothing detailed! Author's Note: Oh to get cozy and cuddle with Din and Grogu. yEARN,, ING. Little shorter than my usual today because I had a busy (but very fun) day! Exchanging presents and catching up with friends always makes my heart so full at Christmas time. Hope you enjoyed this one! ♡

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

You opened your eyes and instantly realised that something was different, what exactly you weren’t quite sure of. It wasn’t until you reached a hand out and discovered an empty, somewhat cold spot next to you on the cot that you realised Din was not next to you. It was the first night you were spending together in the cabin that he had brought to you for a snowy getaway. You were about to leap out of bed and search for Din, momentarily fearful that something terrible had happened, when the door opened and revealed a familiar figure.

You noticed as Din shuffled into the room that he was carrying Grogu. You looked at Din concernedly, wondering why Grogu was with him. It was not uncommon for Grogu to make his way into your room sometimes after you had slept. The child was occasionally prone to nightmares and used his abilities with the Force to leap into your bed and nestle between you and Din for comfort. You never minded, but Din fetching him like this was rare.

“Sorry, he woke me up. I could hear him crying from his room,” Din offered as an explanation for both his absence and Grogu’s presence.

“You don’t have to apologise,” You replied, sitting up.

“I just didn’t mean to wake you,” Din said as he handed Grogu to you and clambered into bed beside you.

“It’s alright, Din. You didn’t wake me up when you left. I guess I woke up eventually because I realised you weren’t here. The cot didn’t feel as cozy,”  You reassured Din. Then you turned your attention towards the little boy in your arms who had apparently been upset: “What’s up with you, buddy?”

Grogu looked at you, his brow furrowed on his wrinkled head. His eyes were glassy from the tears he had seemingly been shedding. 

“I don’t know if he had a nightmare. Perhaps the change of scenery and coming somewhere new has unsettled him,” Din suggested.

“Perhaps,” You agreed. Sometimes the reality of being unable to communicate with Grogu in words made things extremely difficult on your emotions. It was precisely a time like this when you wished more than anything that you could speak to him, to know what was going on inside his little head. “Whatever it is, I think he needs lots of cuddles. Do you want to sleep in here tonight with me and your dad?” You asked Grogu.

The little boy nodded slowly, still looking at you with wide, sorrowful brown eyes. Your heart ached at such a sight; your ordinarily vibrant, cheeky boy was deeply upset for some unknown reason.

“Okay, little guy,” You soothed as you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead once again. 

Din lay back on the bed and you placed Grogu on his chest. The little boy shifted so he was nestled in the spot between his father's neck and shoulder. Din rubbed soothing circles on Grogu’s tiny back; you watched them fondly for a second, before you joined Din lying down. You positioned yourself on Din’s chest too, sighing happily when his arms wrapped around your waist as your cheek rested on his broad chest. You reached down to pull the blankets around your little Clan so you were all warm and comfortable, bundled up tightly from the horrors outside. 

You heard a rustling next to you, watching as Grogu positioned himself closer to you so he was lying on Din’s chest, rather than nestled in the crook of his neck. You looked at Grogu, watching closely for any signs of discomfort on his face. But it seemed that a little time cuddling with you and Din had done wonders to soothe whatever anxieties he had. Fortunately, Grogu looked a lot happier. Knowing that he was warm and safe on his father's chest and cuddled up next to you, who cared for him just as deeply. 

“Goodnight, Grogu,” You whispered as his enormous lids began to droop over his equally sizable eyes.

Seeing the upturn in Grogu’s demeanour meant that you could enjoy the coziness of the moment. Lying here in Din’s arms, knowing that you were comfy and snug underneath the layers of blankets from anything that lay outside was incredibly reassuring. You both knew pieces of Grogu’s life, things that he had been through that were more than any child should ever have to experience. But he had found a home, a safe haven and parents who loved him very much. Against all odds, Grogu had found sanctuary with you and Din, two people who had endured many trials and tribulations too. You felt incredibly lucky to have the two of them and that you had somehow, in a galaxy so vast, ended up by each other's side.

Your cheek rested on Din’s firm chest and you sighed contentedly as you listened to the reassuring, steady beats of his heart and the shallow, even breaths coming from Grogu, who was nestled beside you. With the weight of the blankets and your Clan by your side, you were certain that you had never felt more cozy. 

[pedros-husband]

you feel bad about your scars

pedro pascal characters x male reader

characters included: javier pena, joel miller, javi gutierrez, marcus moreno, ezra, din djarin, frankie morales, agent whiskey, silva, oberyn martell, dave york, dieter bravo, tim rockford, and dio morrisey.

javier pena: he doesn't understand why you don't like your scars, he has tons, and your always talking about how much you like his, so why are yours any different? he's not good with words, so instead he'll show you just how much he loves your scars, whether its gingerly kissing over each one, or a more steamy approach in the sheets.

joel miller: he himself has been self-conscious about his scars, to him they're a reminder of mistakes he's made, fuck ups. but it's a completely different story with yours. he's all over you the moment you say something about them. he was never a touchy lovey-dovey guy, even before the breakout, but when he met you, you changed it all. so, he'll wrap you up in blankets on the couch and put a random movie on that ellie stole from bill's, it's not like you two are going to watch it anyway with the way he's thinking og showing you he loves them anyway....

javi gutierrez: he loves every part of you, and when i say love i mean LOVES, adores, worships, you a GOD to him (in a cute way not a weird way)s o when you shy away from his touch when he traces over your scars, he pouts like a puppy. cue the- " mi hermoso why don't you like your scars? i think they are adorable", and with your permission, he will kiss every single one, muttering little words in between like 'my handsome man' and 'gorgeous'. hes such a sweet golden retriever boy i can't

marcus moreno: he thinks scars are just a normal part of your body (even if its from sh/surgery) so he sees them as a part of YOU, and he loves all of you, therefore he loves them just as much. if you comment on how insecure they make you feel, he'll wrap you up in his arms and cuddle you, pressing kisses to your neck and whispering 'they are part of you my love, and you are so very beautiful...my handsome husband.'

ezra: he doesn't really know how to comfort you on it, but he still assures you that he finds you very handsome and attractive both with or without scars, they don't define you and in his eys, you are perfect in everyway.

din djarin: he is a very shy boy that isn't great with words or affection but he want to show you that he finds you beautiful and even loves your scars ESPECIALLY, so he flips the autopilot on and grabs your wrist (gently), pulling you to the bunk room, he switches off the light and drags you into the bunk, wrapping himself around you and tracing over your scars with his fingers for hours on end until you fall sleep with a smile. its an unspoken sort of love but you can almost hear his thoughts as he delicately traces over the dark lines on you skin.

frankie morales: he's had his fair share of scars from being in the military, so when he hears your concerns about yours, he understands. He's hated his because they remind him of all the people he's had to kill, at the lives lost from his hands, so he will pamper you completely and re-assure you that yours scars are beautiful, and a part of you that he loves very much.

agent whiskey (jack daniels): he also practically worships your body so hes nearly enraged at the fact that you DON'T see your body and scars the same way, he whisks you up into his arms (get it :0) and nearly throws you down onto the bed, crawling on top of you and showering your whole body in kisses, his hands gliding over the lines off each scar and whispering in your ear how handsome they are, and just how much he loves them, and you.

silva: hes shy so it's hard for him to express just how much he loves them, but he wants you to love them too so he'll at least attempt to comfort you, stumbling over his words a bit but getting the point across nonetheless, and the thought makes your heart melt a little anyway.

oberyn martell: physical affection is basically the only way this man can communicate his feelings towards you, so that is what he does, during a steamy make-out session or passionate sex, where he'll focus on telling you just how much they turn him on/he loves them, and make sure you do not leave that bed/room until you feel the same way about them that he does.

Dave york: he has also been in the military, so he has his scars too, but you made him love his, meaning he's confused how you don't love yours too. he'll take both your clothes off, (in a non sexual way) and carefully trace his fingertips over your scars, mumbling about how they tell a story, then he'll sit back in his chair and let you do the same,occasionally piping in about a particular scar that he used to hate, that you made him love.

dieter bravo: he doesn't have that many scars so he doesn't fully understand why they would make you insecure or be worried about them, to him your still his handsome boyfriend and scars don't change that.

tim rockford: there is no way you couldn't love them, because tim reminds you how much he loves the every chance he gets. he thinks your scars are awesome, whether they are from self harm or a surgery, he will look at them and touch them for hours, just marvelling at them with big eyes, and will ask you details about how you got them (if your comfortable with it), and mumble about how sexy they are, and how much he loves his handsome boyfriend

dio morrisey: he thinks they're badass and goth as hell. if you say otherwise, he'll simply cut you off and just tell you to stop being so stupid. he thinks they're cute, but he won't admit that. he's a tough love kinda guy, but you see through it and can kind of read what hes really thinking and feeling about them anyway.

————————————————————————————

So I don’t know if anyone noticed but I deleted my Frankie fic from my page because I got SO self conscious about it and I probably won’t venture near the smut region again for a while because I overthought it so much… anyway hope you like this little thing :)

[atlasscrumpit]

I don't know if someone has already requested this but here we go! I was thinking that Maybe Mando was a Yandere of Grogu, but grogu got out of his sight and is suddenly in the hands of the reader. He is about to kill the reader when he sees how caring she is to him and he also realizes that she is homeless. So he invites her on his ship and his obsession over her begins to grow. I hope that isn't to much! Have a lovely day and keep doing what you are doing!

New Attachment

He never had much in his life, mainly just pain and surviving.

But, when he’d found Grogu he found himself getting attached very quickly.

He knew he would never ever let him out of his sight, and never let anyone near him.

But, he’s two worst fears had just come true.

Grogu was missing and Din felt like he was going to go insane.

He ran around the strange planet they had landed on, it was covered in lush forests which made it even harder.

He eventually found Grogu, in the arms of someone causing his anger to grow even more.

He stepped out and readied his blaster, you heard the noise and looked up in fear.

“We mean no harm! Please, please don’t shoot. I’m not armed.” You muttered, still cradling Grogu in your arms.

Din noticed how happy he looked.

“What are you doing with him?” He growled as Grogu held onto you.

“I found him wandering around, so we started playing games. I’m sorry, I just didn’t want him to get hurt out here on his own.” You said, fear evident in your voice.

“And what are you doing out here on your own?” Din muttered, slowly coming forward.

“This is where I live, sir.” You relied as the Mandalorian studied you.

You definitely were harmless and unarmed.

He came close enough that he could take Grogu from you.

“You kept him safe, the least I can do is offer you some warmth and food.” He replied as you looked up at him with hope.

“A-And I wouldn’t have to do anything else?” You whispered, looking away from him.

He couldn't imagine what you’d been through.

“Nothing else, you have my word.”

—

Din had gotten you wrapped up in a blanket with some hot food in your hands.

You sat there happily eating as the Mandalorian watched you.

“How have you survived so long?” He asked as you looked up at him and swallowed your food.

“If anyone came through I was usually just climbed into the trees, there’s plenty of fresh water and a lot of foliage for me to eat.” You explained as he nodded a little.

“I don’t think Grogu is too keen on seeing you leave. I can offer you shelter and food.” He offered as you looked at him in shock.

“Why would you do that?” You whispered as he slowly came closer.

“Because I don’t think I could live with myself if I left you back out there. You wouldn’t need to offer me anything.” He explained as you nodded a little.

“I could clean your ship for you when you needed!” You suggested making him chuckle.

“That would be lovely.”

—

It had been a while since you’d been with the Mandalorian now, who you now knew as Din.

You’d explored so many places, you’d never even been off your planet before.

You noticed how attached he was to Grogu, and now you were realising how attached he was to you.

But, maybe you didn’t mind. You never had anyone even care about you, so having some obsess over you was somehow nice.

And maybe having someone around who could actually talk and obey him made Din happy as well.

He came back from a mission and climbed into the razor crest to see you in his seat with Grogu cuddled to your chest, you were both fast asleep.

He chuckled and slowly took off his helmet before kissing you on the forehead softly.

“Sleep well, little ones.”

[deeptrashwitch]

This just appeared since I was having my romantic moment hearing music xd I had to do it. It's more like little moments more than a proper snippet, but still, enjoy! :D

Quizas no fue coincidencia encontrarme contigo (Maybe it wasn't a coincidence to find you)

Private Vargas sighed silently as he waited into the formation, he was bored as hell, but he stayed right beside his friend Rudy. Soon the plane that transported the American soldiers landed, and the soldiers that came to train and be deployed there started to descend. His eyes locked by pure luck with one of the female soldiers, who stole his breath in a second as she raised an eyebrow and smiled slightly.

Tal vez esto lo hizo el destino (Maybe this was destiny's thing)

"Private Vargas, be sure to make Private Marchant keeps with the pace of everyone" a superior said to him, to which he nodded and saluted

"Yes sir!"

"...I guess I'll be under your instruction, huh?" she said with a animated and big smile once the superior walked away, then she saluted him "please, take care of me, Vargas. I hope we can work well together"

"Uh, y-yea, I hope so as well" he murmured, flustered by her smile

Quiero dormirme de nuevo en tu pecho (I wanna sleep over your chest again)

After some months they got into a relationship, and now they passed their free days together, sometimes just staying on bed together. Right now they were, instead, lying over the floor just passing the time with the city sounds outside. Alejandro was lying as some kind of weighted blanket over Alicia, who just played quietly with his hair, with his head over her chest.

"What do you wanna do today?" she asked calmly

"Nothing, let's just stay here for a while" he answered, looking at her with a smile "please, amor"

"Fine, fine, you charming idiot"

"You know you love me that way~"

Y después me despierten tus besos (And that your kisses wake me up)

She groaned and then giggled when she felt how Alejandro was peppering her face with soft kisses, soon she laughed and cover herself with the blanket as she heard his laugh. Just seconds later, she was caged in a huge hug, that make her laugh as well as she tried to liberate from the grip. Alejandro pulled a bit the blanket, discovering her head and starting to kiss her again.

"Stop it Alejo!" she murmured with a giggle

"Nuh-uh, this is the only way to wake you up" he said with a side smile

"Let me sleep!"

"No!"

"Then cuddle with me!"

"...Okay"

"Alejo!"

"What? It's a good offer"

[...] (some years later)

Te envío poemas de mi puño y letra (I send you poems in my own handwriting)

Alicia was smiling as she was sat over her cot overseas, a bit flustered and blushed, reading a letter that Alejandro sent her once he knew she would be on a long mission. It was filled of romantinc things and even a poem, that last part made her blush a lot, hiding a giggle with her own hand. She kept it inside the book she brought to that mission, feeling a little warm inside her chest, and soon she lied down and started at the ceiling with a lovesick smile.

"You charming idiot..."

Te envío canciones de 4 40 (I send you songs from 4 40)

While he was doing some paperwork inside his office, Alejandro had his earphones on and was hearing some songs that Alicia sent him lately. He hummed while we was writing, also smiling silently as he wondered what would have been Alicia's expression, maybe a smile or a relaxed face. And when he looked to his messages, he felt heat crippling over his face, she always wrote similar things as when she sent him the music.

"It remind me to you, wanna hear it?" he read as he saved the song on his playlist "I always will"

Te envío las fotos cenando en Marbella (I send you the pictures of us dinning in Marbella)

They compared the pictures they took during their recent dates during leave, always traveling around the world as tourists, and the last one was during a long leave. Both of them went to Spain and met there to start a tour, and ended up having dinner on a beautiful restaurant with looks to the beach. And they took a picture with the sunset behind them, all as they hugged and smiled.

"You looked handsome, cariño" Alicia teased with a side smile "even like a model"

"Don't make me start about you, amor" he answered, kissing her cheek "like a goddess"

Y cuando estuvimos por Venezuela (And when we went to Venezuela)

Another picture was them during an old trip, the first time they were together, to Caracas and now they just could laugh seeing all the differences between the past and how they are now. They were older, were more tired, but also stronger and mature, and that gave them a huge joy to be together again.

"Where's that hat, tho? I haven't see it in a long time" Alicia asked, pointing at the picture

"I...lost it" he admitted with a shy smile

"Just you, Alejo, just you"

Y así me recuerdes y tengas presente que mi corazón está colgando en tus manos (So that you remember and know that my heart is hanging on your hands)

Alejandro and Alicia were sat beside each other, just staring at the landscape in silence, with little smiles. The Colonel put his hand over the Captain's, who just scoffed and squeezed it while the little match bracelets, which they got not so long ago, made a tingling sound. For a second they stayed there without moving until the wind crashed against them and ruffled their hair, then they scoffed and laughed quietly when they looked at each other.

"Now you look like a little hedgehog" Alejandro joked with a side smile

"Oh, look who's talking, you also are a hedgehog" the woman said with a laugh "don't start mocking now, cariño"

"Me? I don't know what you mean~"

"Liar"

"No, I'm not! And you're also laughing at me!"

"...No~"

"Then what is this?"

Then he dragged her into a hug, starting to tickle her as she started to laugh loudly, trying to get away. Like that they continued for a couple of minutes, until Alejandro stopped and just stayed there, hugging Alicia from behind.

"I'm glad to have found you again" Alicia said with a little smile "but are you sure to be here with me?"

"Obviously, amor" he answered, kissing her forehead "it doesn't matter what happened in the past, I'll always be sure to stay by your side"

"Can I ask why?"

"Hmm, because I still see that you are the one I chose, and yes, even if you did something really bad...I'll stay"

"Alejo..."

"Yes?"

"Te amo" (I love you)

"Y yo a tí. Mi corazón es tuyo, querida" (I love you too. My heart is yours, sweetheart)

*overloads of sweetness* Welp, I doubt I'll do this again in a long time. It was worth it, tho *smiles*

[yuquinzel]

HELLO HANA 🤭🤭🤭 here to annoy u again

anyway.. rinnie ko bas ek din ghar pe invite karna hai for a sleepover to see his face when he realizes ki woh tumhare saath same room mein nahi sone wala h 😭 and then he gets so pouty and you have to be like "sorry rinnie :P just my family...... they're a little...." so he's like ok (sad) and woh guest room mein sota h but then he gets a text from you at like 1 in the morning which says "be quiet when you come in <3" and he's already getting out of the bed in seconds ??????? ugh this man. and bonus when tumhare bhai/behen ghar mein rehte h because he's extra scared of getting caught 😭😭😭😭 and then after cuddling all night you have to quite literally push him out of your room at 4 AM bc he gets so clingy and won't let you go (how are u gonna escape from those strong ass arms ???) and you're whisper-yelling at him in the dark like "rin! go back to your room i swear to god—" kyuki mummy 5 baje hi uthti hai ... ☠️ bechara rin </3

“rin... let go, it's almost 4 am!”

rin's hold on you is firm, it's hard enough to keep your voice low and close to a whisper-yell, it's even more difficult to wrestle yourself free from the embrace of his strong arms when he's very obviously determined to not let go.

“quit whining, you're the one who asked me to come.”

“yeah, like an hour ago. my mom will be up by 5! you and i are dead if she sees you leave my room at this hour.” you try to reason, hands going to push away at his forearms to allow space between you both, but to no avail. if anything, he just holds you even tighter.

“sounds like a you problem. first you ask me for a sleepover, and then i find we're not even gonna sleep in the same room. then i get a text asking me to come over to your room, and now you want me leave again? not happening.”

“bro,” you deadpan, “you're lucky my parents even agreed to let you sleep over! I'll make up for it later, but please go back to your room!”

you can't help but snicker as the events of earlier come playing in your mind— the look of pure horror on rin's pretty face as he learns he's not going to be spending the night with you, but in the guest room instead. the way he was shrinking in his seat as your siblings give him the side-eye everytime they'd catch him staring at you. god, he looked adorable pouting when you slapped his hand away from your own, in front of your parents.

but now when you feel him inch closer, burying his face in your shoulders as the warmth of your bodies cover you like a second blanket— you know you've already lost. you don't really want him to leave either, and there's a tremble in your voice that's enough to tell rin that your resistance isn't as legitimate as you're hoping for it to be.

“i don't care. your parents already love me. I'll win them over, now shut up and let me sleep.”

the hushed sweetness to his voice betrays his words, he's only threading his fingers through your hair in what you assume is an attempt to lull you to sleep. you take a mental note to not underestimate itoshi rin's ability to charm you with his words past 3 am— he's uncharacteristically clingy, being all soft and delicate, tentative and loving— the way only you know rin to be.

“my sister's in the other room, she definitely knows you're here.”

“that means we're already done for, might as well let it be.”

“god, you are insufferable.” you say, (begrudgingly) settling into his chest.

you can only imagine a satisfied smirk on his face when he breathes— the rise and fall of his chest slowing falling in sync with yours— and you feel it resonate with your own.

yeah, you don't really want him to leave.

hiii val im sorry for the late reply </3 here take this as a peace offering,, literally wrote this just now— i love your ideas, please stay in my inbox forever :(

[the-mandawhor1an]

The present

Chapter 7 – Guided by the stars, connected by the force

Masterlist

⇐ Previous chapter | Next chapter ⇒

Pairing: Din Djarin x original female character

Chapter summary: Having to deal with a Dragon is hard as is. Dealing with feelings at the same time makes things more complicated for Maia and Din. Who is the real monster? 

Warnings: 18+ content, MDNI! Steamy thoughts; a little awkward talk about relationships; touch-starved Din; violence (more graphic than canon, sowwy); new character introduction; A little heartbreak;  

Words: 7k 

A/N: Switching the Mando'a translations to be in text rather than by the end of the whole chapter.

Due to last night’s occurrences, their night had been cut short, especially so as they were to get up at sunrise. Luckily, Maia fell asleep fairly fast after she had listened to her companion’s even breathing and Grogu’s sleep-babbles for a while. It was peaceful despite the situation they had found themselves in, out in the open and dangerously close to a giant creature. Mando must have groaned or made some kind of noise while sleeping, possibly due to having to sleep in his full set of armor. It couldn't be comfortable to sleep while having metal poke you constantly.

How she came to the conclusion that he made some kind of noise? Well, her brain, fueled by all kinds of chemicals after that kiss, registered his whines and blessed her with some very pleasant dreams, perhaps even visions, about them taking things further. 

She felt his rough hands discover every part of her body, gently caressing her skin. His lips would ghost over her neck, her shoulders, her chest, to land on her lips. They’d kiss greedily, his groans guttural and primal. She couldn’t see him, but stars, it felt so real, especially when he’d whisper sweet nothings into her ear, that she felt so soft and warm underneath him, caged by his body – submissive but safe, protected. His fingers were buried in her hips, hard enough to probably leave bruises, holding onto her while taking her like it was the last thing he’d ever do. When she woke up she swore she could feel him everywhere. 

Maia’s head slowly rose from the tented blanket, blushing and hoping she didn’t make any noise in her sleep that would tell Mando what they had done in her dreams. She glanced over to find both him and Grogu still soundly asleep, gently snoring in unison. Part of her wished she could just cuddle up against that wide frame of his and pretend she was cold, but she needed some fresh air and distance. The memories of him clouded her mind and the last thing she now needed was him asking questions. She stood up, making as little noise as possible, and left the tent some time before sunrise. She felt surprisingly fine for getting so little sleep, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep much longer anyway. They had to leave soon and all of her thoughts raced around him. 

Some of the camp was also awake already. As Maia didn’t have any means of communication, she opted to spend some time with the children. Just outside of the camp, they waited with her. Waited for? While the shadows of the tents were still over the red sand, small creatures scooted around on the lookout for water or small insects. The Tusken children showed Maia how to hunt womp rats. While the first attempt to catch one was futile and caused a fit of laughter with the young ones, the second rat met its unfortunate fate when Maia subtly waved her hand at it, causing some confusion so she could grab the rodent. Now with the small creature on her arm, calm and allowing the kids to pet it, one of the kids tried to tell her something. »I’m sorry I don’t understand,« she said. They kept making one sign over and over, growing more frustrated with every time. Finally, one grabbed her free hand and led her back inside the camp. To Mando. 

When faced with the Beskar clad bounty hunter again, it felt a little awkward at first. »I guess we have a pet now,« she said with a smile and pet the womp rat on her arm. Grogu, who had seemed a little sleepdrunk upon her arrival, locked eyes with the animal and was suddenly very wide awake. Insatiable little booger. »Be careful,« Mando said. His voice was a little deeper and raspier than usual, surely from just waking up. A pain surged through her body as she was reminded of her dream, where his voice sounded just like that. »They have sharp teeth and claws.« The animal was calm, almost asleep on her arm. It wouldn’t hurt her. »The children taught me some hunting. I can take on the dragon now,« she joked a little awkwardly, hoping he didn’t register her change in behavior, or the fact that she shifted her weight from one leg to the other nervously. 

Maia, why do you have to make things so awkward? she asked herself. But he didn’t pick up on the awkwardness, it seemed. »In that case I’ll kick my feet up, relax and watch you.« His helmet dipped just a tiny bit. That familiar sting appeared in her neck and she cleared her throat. »The children kept making this sign,« and as best as she could, she imitated the movements with one hand, all while the rat rested on her other arm. 

»Yeah, well, um,« he stammered and shifted his weight to one foot, bending one knee slightly. »They think I’m your husband because they saw us sleep in the same tent.« Maia instantly regretted asking him, as she was certain she started blushing again. 

MY HUSBAND? 

One of the children approached them again and signed something to him. All he signed back was his index, pointed upwards as he moved it in front of his visor. It looked to her like it could mean ‘that’s my secret’ or something in that sense. She wondered what the kid asked, as it chuckled and left them to join the other children. She let her eyes follow the child in hopes this distraction would make her blush disappear. »That explains their laughter, at least.« It was awkward, more so because he was clearly embarrassed as well. It sounded like a perfect opportunity for a corny joke. 

»I must’ve missed something yesterday,« she said with a smirk. »I don’t remember being proposed to.« And as much as she wanted the joke to land, his response choked her for just a second. »Mandalorian proposals aren’t super romantic,« he stated with a shrug. Wait. That just came out wrong, right? They didn’t… what? 

»How did you sleep?« he asked her when he picked up on the return of the awkwardness. Needing a second to take a breather, Maia sat down the small rat and bit her lips when her face was out of sight. »It was okay,« she replied while she slowly rose to her feet, watching the little rat regain its senses and running to hide behind the next small dune. »I’m just … plan M anyway. You won’t want me to interfere and in the end I will do it anyway.« She turned back to face him. 

»I don’t like the sound of that,« he said and leaned his helmet to the side, as she would sometimes do. He wanted to protect her, of course he didn’t like the thought of her stepping in and possibly getting hurt. She felt the dragon after all, it was massive. »I can take care of myself. I’ll be careful, don’t worry,« she reassured him. Slowly, she bent over to stretch out her back, her spine cracking in the process. »And how did you sleep?« 

»Fine. But I’m not the one with the cracking bones,« Mando’s gaze practically burned into her skin as she bent down. When she straightened out her back again, Vanth stood beside them. »I never thought I’d sleep in a Tusken camp, to be honest. Wasn’t as bad as I thought.« A sudden bout of nausea rolled over her when she thought about what Vanth could see when he approached them: Her bent over. 

She exhaled and closed her eyes for a second. This was not the right time to freak out. »We should get moving,« Mando insisted after Vanth shot him a grin. Men… 

»I’m curious what you’ve planned,« Maia explained while they were walking towards the speeders. »The Tusken children are quite the hunters… when it comes to womp rats.« The same, broken down, rusty speeder greeted them and she was hit with the realization, that she’d have to cuddle up to Din again. 

She sat behind him and exchanged a look with Grogu back in his carrier bag. The little one was excited for the new day ahead. With a soft smile on her lips she turned around and held on to her companion. 

»They are great hunters, but the dragon is a different story. It’s big and hard to hunt due to it being under the sand,« Mando explained when they dashed across the dunes. While one hand held onto him by his waist, Maia’s other hand snaked up to the shoulder that was hidden from Vanth’s view. With every time Vanth would shoot her looks, she’d squeeze Din’s shoulder softly. Deep down she wondered, and she was a bit embarrassed by her own thoughts, what it would feel like to touch him without all the fabric separating them. If his skin felt as warm and soft as she imagined. 

Maia was unsure of how she would call whatever she shared with Din. She obviously liked him, but his point of view was completely unclear. He kissed her, but did that mean something to him? Seeing the two like this made it easy for the Tuskens to mistake them for husband and wife. They shared a tent, she was practically glued to his back, and the Mandalorian seemed extremely comfortable with the closeness. And at least from what they could tell by the little sparkle in her eyes when she looked at him, there must’ve been something. 

She wasn’t opposed to the thought of being with him. As a partner, not necessarily as his wife. 

They reached the den after a short trip. A large tunnel led deep into a mountain, pitch black on the inside. Din, Vanth, a few Tuskens and Maia sat behind a rock, watching the tunnel entrance with binoculars. Vanth scanned the tunnel and scoffed. »This is where it’s supposed to be?« and without thinking, Maia practically blurted out, »It’s sleeping.« A low rumble echoed from the tunnel if one paid attention to it. The dragon’s breath. 

»The Tusken said it lives in an abandoned sarlacc pit,« Mando explained. Vanth lowered the binoculars and handed them over to him. »Ridiculous, there are no abandoned sarlacc pits on Tatooine.« Mando shrugged. »They’re empty when you eat the sarlacc.«

A Tusken approached the cave with a bantha in tow. They shouted into the cave, the scream echoed for quite a while until the low hum of the dragon’s breath stopped and a low growl emerged. The beast made its way forward and instead of eating the bantha as intended, it went for the Tusken and ate them in one bite. »They usually sacrifice banthas to make the dragon sleep for longer. They’ve studied it for generations,« Mando explained after the failed attempt. Vanth scoffed »Well, that worked just as planned, huh?« He crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

Mando straightened his back and sighed. »Maybe they’re open to new ideas.«

They assembled around a replica of the scene before them, bones representing the dragon and pebbles to symbolize the men that they had to work this out. Maia watched from a distance, Grogu on her arm. She didn’t want to interfere with the actual plotting, so she stepped back. 

Vanth tilted his head and seemed to calculate something in his mind. »The scaling is off,« he commented. Maia wasn’t sure she agreed, the dragon was gigantic. Din exchanged a few signs and grunts with a Tusken before speaking to the marshal. »The scaling is right. What we’ve seen is just the head.« While they debated whether or not the dragon was in fact this big, Grogu extended one of his hands, maybe to force-pull one of the bones towards him. Maia shielded the small green hand with hers and softly whispered to the child »not now.« He sighed and turned to look her into the eyes, pleading with her to allow him to nibble on the sun-bleached bones. 

»Maybe we should retreat, then,« Vanth proposed. Maia looked down at the hand full of pebbles and commented »Maybe we should, we’re not enough, especially if bantha is off the dragon’s menu.« After a short exchange between Mando and the Tusken, more pebbles fell from the hunter’s hand and plop into the sand. Vanth appeared delighted. »That looks a lot better. What did you say?« »I told them your people will help us.« Maia looked over to Vanth, then back to Mando. She was certain the marshal would not agree with that plan at all. And as expected, he was far from delighted. 

»They attacked us less than a year ago. Killed half a dozen of us by the mining camp. I'd say I took down about twice as many Tuskens,« Vanth spoke with a clear irritation in his voice. As expected, kind of. But Mando wouldn’t give up so fast. »All of you want the dragon gone. You killed some of their people, they killed some of your people. This can put an end to the fighting, once and for all. Talk to the settlers. They listen to you.« 

Vanth wrinkled his forehead, but ultimately saw that was the only way. If he could actually convince his people, that is. »Guess that means: back to Mos Pelgo.«

The next few hours were a blur to Maia. The men handled the convincing, the plotting, and ultimately managed the travel back to the cave. The young brunette could not put her finger on it, but something felt uneasy to her. Maybe she was just anxious because of the sheer size of the beast. Maybe she held onto Din a little tighter when they returned to the cave. 

Maybe she was overthinking the feelings that emerged when she felt Din’s lips on hers. Maybe she warmed up to the realization that Raymond might have been right about ‘the stranger’ after all. This connection she felt meant something. She couldn’t quite put a name to it yet, but the suspicion she had made her heart jump whenever she thought about it. 

Din overlooked the Tuskens and Settlers as they dug out trenches in the sand to hide the explosives they had collected in Mos Pelgo. The plan sounded easy enough, although not foolproof. Lure the dragon out and then blow it up. 

Maia busied herself with Grogu, hiding from the glaring suns beside the speeder bike. Every now and then, though, she caught herself staring at the Mandalorian, thinking back to what she had said about plan M. There was some mutual sympathy no one could deny, but with that the fear grew. The fear he'd do something stupid to save her. 

Grogu could sense her inner turmoil and made a questioning noise. That snapped Maia back into reality and she gently pat his head. »Let's hope their plan is good enough for a 200 ton dragon.« Grogu agreed with a coo. She smiled at the child. The little troublemaker had really grown on her, she liked spending time with the child. From her peripheral, Maia could see Din approach them and her eyes rested on the black visor. 

»Maia. If anything happens to me,« he sighed and extended his hand to rest it on her shoulder, thumb caressing over the fabric of her cloak. Din was worried about this dragon and while he hoped to come out of this unscathed, he had to make sure some matters were taken care of. »Will you take care of Grogu for me and help him find a Jedi? I trust you.« Maia turned her head to watch his hand, until she gently laid a hand of hers on his glove, turned back to face him and nodded.

»I promise to look after Grogu until he’s in safe hands.« A smile formed on her lips as she felt his fingers squeeze her shoulder gently. »Please don’t risk your life to kill the dragon, though. No one wants you to play hero just because you know that someone can take care of Grogu. I know I don’t.« 

»I won’t play hero if you don’t implement plan M,« Din retorted, a smile audible in his voice. »It’s – just in case. Ret’lini.« »Ret’lini,« she repeated, the word rolling off of her tongue surprisingly easy. She glanced over to both of their hands, her thumb smoothing over the worn leather of his glove. Despite being out in the open, this little gesture felt so intimate – so significant. Touching him felt good. It felt natural, despite this being the first time they touched like that. 

The urgency he suggested with his approach just now made her worry. Was is in the realm of possibility that he would meet his fate today? There was a chance, and if he wanted to make sure his matters were addressed, maybe she had to talk about something as well. Ret’lini. 

»Let’s hope it all turns out alright. It’s obvious that I don’t want you to die and I doubt you want to die, either. But there is a slim chance it happens and I …« I won’t let you die. »Something has changed. I’m not sure what it is yet, but what I do know is that I like you, Din. I like you and I would like to repeat what happened yesterday. and maybe more. Some day.« 

It was like he was frozen. His hand twitched ever so slightly under her fingers, but it took a moment for him to gather his thoughts. »That… would be nice,« was all he could muster up at first. She felt his eyes burn on her skin as he found the right words. »You’re right. Something has changed. I like you too, mesh’la.« 

Mesh’la? What did it mean? She knew it was something in Mando’a and not a name-slip, and she felt heat rush to her cheeks. He liked her. Din’s hand slowly let go off her, something both seemed to dread. »We’re almost ready,« he announced. 

Positioned behind the speeders, Vanth, Mando and the two non-jedi watched as the dragon did not run into the trap they had set up. While the head came out of the cave and the detonations hit something, presumably its throat, it was not enough to fatally wound the beast. Instead, they angered it. It didn’t hesitate to let its anger known, spitting acid over the settlers and Tuskens that were unfortunate enough to stand too close. They screamed as their bodies dissolved into the sand, all while the dragon retreated back into the cave and vanished. While the first attack had been short, the casualties were high and they knew: it wasn’t over. 

Maia felt the giant creature burrow underneath the sand and working its way through the mountain before them. If it managed to break out somewhere at the top and spit acid again, they would lose more people, too many to make it worth all of this. One thing was certain: she was only person that could save them right then and there. If she didn’t interfere, they would die. Despite her agreement with Din to not make haste decisions, she had to act: That calls for plan M. She jumped over the speeder and sprinted forward, faster than Din could even register what was going on. Fast enough so he couldn’t stop her. 

She felt his gaze burn into her as she stumbled across the sand, more jumping than actually running. Surely enough, the dragon emerged from the rock and rained more acid over the people in the valley, without any chance of evading their certain end. Maia raised her hands to shield the others from the acid with a force barrier, which Vanth and Mando took as an opportunity to attack the creature from the air. It got annoyed enough by the shots that it burrowed in the mountain once more, allowing her to catch her breath. Using the force was exhausting, causing her to sink into the sand beneath her. 

Child of the force, I can feel you

a voice echoed in her mind. She looked around, no one was around that this voice could have belonged to. What was going on? Both Vanth and Din landed back in the sand a little away from her, but the dragon was still under them, still alive, still very angry. She couldn’t make out what the men said, but suddenly Vanth flew a few meters away from Din, plopped down into the sand. All the marshal and Maia could do was watch the Mandalorian grab the Bantha with the remaining explosives and get swallowed whole by the dragon. 

She stared into the pit in the sand with utter disbelief. That was it? »Din, please don’t do this to me,« she whispered as tears formed in her eyes. She felt a pain form in her heart, when suddenly the dragon re-emerged from the sand, blue flickers of light shining through its skin. A scream disrupted the grieving silence as Din flew out the opened mouth of the beast. The remote for the explosives still in his hand, he activated them and the dragon blew up into pieces. the shockwave knocked all over who were too close, including Maia and Vanth. A cloud of sand got kicked up and obstructed their view for a moment. Mando landed a few seconds after the detonation, covered in saliva and other gunk from the creature’s mouth. 

He landed close to Vanth and helped him back to his feet. They exchanged a few words, Vanth nodding her way, until the helmet turned to her and the sting returned. »Maia…« his voice was soft when he saw the dark trails the tears had left on her sand-stained face. His right arm flexed and she saw his fingers bend. He wanted to touch her, she could tell. »It’s okay. The dragon is dead, we can leave.« The green goop on his armor could have been more of the acid, but the urge to embrace her was palpable. He was so tense, frozen in place unsure what to do. She felt the same way, and when she stood up onto unstable legs, before he could approach her to steady her, sand got thrown his way. A lot of sand, hitting him with enough of an impact to almost push him over. The sand stuck to every last bit of moisture on his suit, practically drying him in an instant and rendering any bit of acid not dangerous to the fabric on his or her frame. 

As mad as she was about his actions, the relief she felt when she saw he was unscathed made her forget that she almost lost him so fast after finding him. With wobbly steps, she ran towards him and crashed into his chest and hugged him tight enough that it hurt her. For a moment she feared he’d push her away, until one of his arms carefully wrapped around her. A display of mutual feelings, of what they had talked about before this went down. Maia felt conflicted: She liked him, it was obvious. And he liked her. But as quickly as they found each other, they could lose another just as fast. 

The voice still lingered in the back of her mind. 

I can feel the dichotomy in your heart. Let me help you. 

She lifted her face to look into that visor. A small glare lingered in her eyes when she warned him »don’t you ever do that again.« She wiped her face with her sleeve, not cleaning it but drying the tears. He just stared at her. At least that what it felt like when the helmet didn’t move, he just breathed, his chest armor pushing into her. Maybe she crossed a line when she hugged him. Maybe he didn’t want her to display her feelings so publicly. 

Reluctantly, she let go off him, sighed and walked over to the speeder to check on Grogu. The child looked at her with confusion. He felt her conflicted emotions, and also the feelings that plagued his bodyguard. As a child not much made sense to him yet, the adults behaved weird in his opinion. 

It didn’t take long for Din to follow and Vanth also approached the speeder to hand over the armor. Din had taken a part of the dragon’s flesh as payment. »Thank you for your help, Mando,« the marshal addressed him first, before turning his head to the brunette. »Thank you for protecting my people. I’m sure they’re glad you risked your life for them.« Not one word fell about her powers. Perhaps he knew it was better not to mention it. 

»Let’s go back to Mos Eisley,« Mando said to his companion with a nod. He and Vanth shook hands, as men did. The silver-haired only winked at the young woman, earning a warm smile in return. This time Maia sat down in front of the speeder. She didn’t want to be close to the other armor nor to the chunk of still warm meat. 

Din sat behind her, holding onto her waist with one arm when she revved the engine. As soon as they were out of sight, she felt his arm tighten around her body. It’s as if he wanted to hug her, again, for longer this time, now that no one could see them. She relaxed and practically melted against his chest. His thumb stroked along the curve of her waist. Part of her wished he could take that helmet off to kiss her neck. She couldn’t see him, neither could Grogu. 

She lowered the speed of their vehicle to release one of her hands from the handlebar. Her fingers grazed over his biceps, feeling the muscles flex under her touch. »You really scared me,« she complained, but softly. She squeezed him gently, earning a grunt from underneath the helmet. »I’m sorry,« he replied. »I had no time to explain.« 

The speeder was now slow enough that no one had to fear falling off, gliding over the sand like it was an undisturbed water surface. Soft, almost like a caress. She leaned the side of her head against his helmet and closed her eyes just for a moment. »I thought we agreed that you wouldn’t utilize plan M either. I know, you rescued a lot of people but now they know.« She opened her eyes but looked straight ahead. Her hand wandered upwards into the back of his neck. Her fingers dipped underneath his helmet to run through his hair. »Can’t say I’m not impressed but both of us risked a lot today,« he whispered. The sudden sensation of her finger in his hair made him whimper softly. He scooted closer to her, his body molding to hers to be as close as possible. 

»I couldn’t let them die. There was only one person that was capable to save them: Me. They won’t tell anyone.« His second arm moved so he could place a hand on her thigh. He squeezed her gently and rested his helmet against her head and shoulder. »Where are we going next?« she asked. »I don’t know yet. We have to find another clue.« Din most definitely was distracted by her touch, so she pulled back. They needed to be back in Mos Eisley by dawn.  

Maia accelerated, the dunes flying past them and a cloud of sand following them. Slowly, the terrain changed, more and more rocks surfaced through the sand like islands in an endless ocean of red sand. The suns were slowly setting, their shadows turned longer and longer. As much as she would’ve enjoyed watching another sunset with Din, they needed to be in Mos Eisley by night. 

While they looked similar, the canyons they transversed were not the same ones when they encountered the Tuskens first. Smaller lizards hid in the crevices as they zoomed past, disturbed in their basking ritual. 

But lizards were far from the only living beings they would encounter on their way back. In a particular rock formation, bandits had set up a trap and Maia was running right into it. When the speeder was close, they lifted a steel wire to trip the bike, sending all passengers and the cargo flying through the air. 

While Din could catch his fall with the jetpack, Grogu and Maia were less fortunate. The child landed somewhere off to the side and the brunette hit the sand and tumbled, at least one of her bones making a cracking noise in the process. There was no time to be in pain, they were under attack and Maia’s first instinct said that these were bounty hunters. Either tasked to grab Grogu – or her. Whatever the case, the child couldn’t protect himself, as opposed to the two adults. She unhooked one of her lightsabers from her belt and activated the lavender-colored blade. 

Her eyes scanned the area to look for the foundling and when she saw one of the bandits draw close, she pushed forward. All regards for Din were forgotten in this moment, as he was capable to fight alone.  

You’re treading on a fine line. A dance on a tightrope above an endless abyss.

With one effortless swipe of her blade she felled the first bandit while sprinting over to Grogu, a second bandit approaching. With a force-push, she threw the attacker against a rock, not caring if she had knocked him unconscious or killed him in an instant. There must’ve been at least 4, maybe 5 of them, as Din was fighting with one as well. When Maia had almost reached Grogu, a shock went through her body. »Jedi!« one of them barked. She had been tased once again, the shock making her muscles spasm and forcing her to the ground. Her saber deactivated as she let go, but the hilt now laid in the sand next to her, up to grab by anyone. 

She curled up into a ball, crying out in pain as the memories of her capture resurfaced. It drove her mad.

Don’t let the darkness enter your heart.

The bandit that had shot her with the taser picked up Grogu and retreated, allowing the one she had previously thrown to get up and approach her. His eyes darted to the metal hilt in the sand right next to her. It would be easy to kill her with that, one swipe and her pretty head would lay in the sand.

As right as the unfamiliar voice in her head was, she saw no other way in this moment but to let go. Even if it was just for a moment, she needed to keep them safe. For that she had to be alive.

So she let go.

If you lose yourself, you’ll lose him too.

She flexed the muscles in her lower arm as best she could, curling her fingers in an attempt to form a fist. Neither her ears nor her brain registered she was screaming in agony, as was the bandit, as his ribs gave in to the pressure, one after another. Maias eyes were closed, welling up with tears as she gave into the pull. 

You have to learn to control yourself.

The bandit collapsed next to her and in his fall hit the cables of the taser, pulling the electrodes from her shoulder. Disoriented and on the verge of throwing up, Maia toppled over on all fours and took a few breaths, heaving once, but nothing came out. Everything around her was like a blur, but the noises of fighting had stopped. In fact, it was dead silent. 

I will help you. Wait for me. 

Maia sat back onto her knees and grabbed her saber, taking in a few deeper breaths as her vision cleared up. She was now so aware of the voice and she should have been concerned, but all that she felt was an undeniable aura of good. It radiated empathy, for her situation, for her inner conflict. The brunette looked up to see Grogu back on Din’s arm, safe and visibly unharmed. Still, her heart felt heavy as Din didn’t dare to take a step closer to her. 

You will hurt them sooner or later. 

»Are you alright?« she asked Din as she carefully got back to her feet. She knew she messed up, showing Din a glimpse of what she would’ve preferred to keep from him forever. For a second time today, she felt the urge to run over to him and hug him, but the stiffness in his body suggested he would not accept it this time. Running wasn’t possible anyway, as the leg that had been affected more by the shocks felt numb, similar to the numbness she felt on Nevarro. The dull thumping in her chest didn’t mean anything good, either. »We’re fine,« Din replied. Finally he came closer, but he approached her carefully. 

Maia gathered the last bit of strength she had to not start crying. His trust was gone, it was clear with the way he approached her like she was a wild animal. »You’re hurt,« he continued. »Can you walk? We have to walk the rest, the speeder is broken and come nightfall things will get ugly out here.« As if things weren’t ugly already. 

»It’s not as bad as it looks,« she lied, unconvincingly as she let out a whine when hooking her saber back onto her belt sent a sharp pain through her ribcage. One of her ribs must have broken when she landed in the sand earlier. But she was very much alive and not on the brink of death like last time. Who knows what consequences her outburst would lead up to. 

Taking as much of the cargo as possible, they made their way back to Mos Eisley on foot. Din carried most of the heavy stuff, the armor, the meat, the second jet pack; while Maia carried Grogu and some of the smaller items. It wasn’t much and she felt bad for having him carry so much, but she didn’t dare to say anything. Neither said anything. The emotion that radiated off of the Mandalorian was hard to decipher for the young woman. She knew a bit of disappointment was in there, but the exhaustion after the fight and her injuries made reading him all the more difficult. It hurt her deeply, knowing she had let him down after he had lowered his guard around her. It hurt worse than her physical wounds. Grogu was mostly asleep while they walked, lulled to slumber from the exhaustion and the rhythmic, gentle sway of his carrier bag around Maia’s body. 

I’m so sorry for disappointing you, Din. I hope you can forgive me until we meet again. 

Back in the city, it didn’t take long to find Peli. Basically, all they had to do was follow the noise. The mechanic ushered them back to the hangar, where she could prepare the dragon meat and maybe help Mando with some intel. Grogu watched as the meat was slowly roasted by the droids, the two self-declared bodyguards stood close to each other, but not as close as Maia had wished. »Don’t get too close,« Mando warned Grogu as the small green paws dared to reach out to the flames. The helmet turned towards his brunette companion, and suddenly the air got heavy. 

»Maia, we have to talk,« he announced and they both retreated further away from the droids, Grogu and Peli. His tone was firm and pained, like he forced himself to do this now despite feeling resentful that it had to be done. Peli complained about her speeder bike in the background, but the noise was easy to blur out when one’s heart was racing. 

»You lost control,« he stated. Instantly, Maia wanted to say something, defend her actions, but he lifted his glove. Din wasn’t done and sighed heavily. The tears that welled in the beautiful green eyes opposite of him didn’t make this any easier. »Don’t think that I’m scared of you. Because I’m not. It’s … I …« he stammered and sighed again, rested his hands against his hips in frustration. »I’ve considered taking the helmet off. The kiss occupies my mind ever since it happened and I want to kiss you again.« 

It was hard. Hard not to show much his words hurt. Yes, she was on the verge of crying, but hearing that made it so much realer. This was a farewell, she knew it. »You make me consider bending rules I never thought about breaking before. Maybe we should go our separate ways.«

There it was, the truth. His codex was important to him, she understood; more important than some feelings he had for a woman he’d known for barely three days. But the words he spoke sounded familiar. She had heard these before, but where? 

»I understand,« she replied and bit her lower lip. Her voice was quivering and she felt pathetic for being so weak in this moment, but maybe he had to witness what he did to her, what pain he caused. Crying only made it worse for the both of them. »I don’t want to hurt you or Grogu just because I can’t control myself. We’re … not good for each other. As much as I want to promise you that I can better myself, this is nothing I can do while being with you. It’s for the better if our journey ends here.« She blinked a few times, hoping it would make the tears disappear without pushing them down her face. 

»Someone or something calls for me. I’m not sure it’s not a trap, but it feels like it’s someone that genuinely wants to help me. I will answer that call and see where it leads. Whatever happens to me, I don’t want to be responsible for you losing your ways.«

As soon as these words left her lips, she remembered why his sounded so familiar. The vision they had shared when she healed her wound, in the cargo hold of his ship. Did that also mean, the last vision she had seen, that couple embraced in a kiss, was also them? Some time in the future? 

Din nodded. Again she wished she could see his face, only to see if this affected him as much as it did her. But that was the main issue. She made him want to take the helmet off. She wanted him to take it off. »I’m forever grateful for your help,« he said, his voice slowly warming up again, getting softer. »Our paths might separate here, but maybe we’ll meet again.« 

Part of her wanted to tell him. Maybe he knew, deep down, even if he couldn’t remember the visions. She smiled softly, as best as she could with still fairly tear-filled eyes. »I hope our paths lead us to a better place. I hope there are some valuable lessons waiting for me, to make me a better person. Perhaps there will be revelations in your future as well. If you realize that you need me, I won’t be far away, I promise. As long as my heart beats,« she laid her hand on her chest, right on top of her heart. »You and Grogu won’t be alone in this galaxy. It’s your choice if you want to call me or not.« 

It was hard to beat the Jedi allegations when she spoke like that. But maybe she was sick of trying so vehemently to not be something that was… her. 

»Be careful, mesh’la,« he spoke with a heavy heart. Again, he called her mesh’la. She could’ve asked him what it meant. She should have asked him what it meant, but maybe she liked to be in emotional limbo, not sure if she should feel flustered or insulted. Her instinct told her it was positive, in fact, it made her feel warm and fuzzy inside. »Try not to ‘Plan M’ your way around the galaxy.« 

»I’ll try. I’ll tell you about it when our paths cross again. I’m sure they will, when we’re ready.« She was certain they would meet again, but when and under which circumstances hadn’t yet revealed itself to her. »Take good care of Grogu and yourself, Din.« This might have been the last time that she spoke his name for a while. She looked into that visor, resisting the urge to touch the helmet, to pull him into a hug, to get any kind of last contact, because she knew, it would hurt more to let go. She turned on her heel, and every fiber of her being screamed at her to not do it. Please don’t let me leave like that, she begged him in her mind. 

As if he had heard her silent plea, he grabbed her hand. »Wait.« He pulled her back, turned her in the same movement and gently leaned his helmet forward. She knew the gesture and inched closer, until her forehead felt the cold metal of his helmet. It wasn’t the kiss she had wished for, but it was a display of affection nonetheless. »Ret’urcye mhi,« Din mumbled. There was no need for a translation. The way he said it told her enough. A single sob escaped her as she closed her eyes. »May the force be with you.«

They could have hugged, let the touch linger for longer than necessary, but Maia pulled back fairly quickly. It was inevitable and waiting it out helped no one. She left the hangar, telling Peli goodbye in passing. 

The last she heard from the hangar was the mechanic’s shrill voice, asking Mando what he had done to chase the girl off.

[mandos-mind-trick]

Instinct - Part 8

Summary: Omegas were rare. Some even thought them extinct. So when Boba contacts Din saying he has a gift Din can’t refuse, the last thing he expects to find is an omega in need of an alpha. Din has to make the hard decision, but what else was he really doing anyways? But naturally, there’s more to this omega than meets the eye.

Pairing: Din Djarin x female!reader

Warnings: Smut, it’s mostly just smut. Heavy on the ABO stuff too. Nothing really serious, mostly just a filler. 

A/N: So...it’s been a while...take this as a celebration of the new season, but also an apology. Also if I have missed you in the taglist please let me know! 

< Previous | Next > | MASTERLIST | OC Version

You pull the blanket tighter around yourself. The metal of the ship is cold, creaking a bit as the wind whips around outside. You stare at the heat lamp, waiting patiently. There’s a blaster on your pillow, and a knife still tucked into your boot. 

A whole day. 

It had been a whole day since Din had walked down the ramp of the ship after telling you to stay put. You had argued, fought to go with him until he had smugly opened the hatch and revealed the blizzard outside. You had quickly abated and, after being situated with a heat lamp and plenty of blankets and rations, Din had left you in the locked ship. 

You hate being alone.

As much as you were still upset at him, you hated him being gone. There was a deep longing to have him by your side. Your father had spoken of it. Even after years of being mated, there was still a yearning for your mother to return to his side when she left. 

You want nothing more than to cuddle up to your alpha and get warm. He was less susceptible to the elements than you were. He was meant for hunting and fighting no matter the environment. You were meant for protecting your pack and your home, birthing and rearing, fighting only when necessary. 

Or at least that’s how things would have been. 

It could still be. 

He had offered. He had offered to build a life on Tatooine. To turn away from all of this, give this up to have a life with you. Forget Mandalore, forget hunting. 

You curl up in your makeshift bed, staring at the heat lamp, listening to the wind whipping around the ship. 

The ramp thudding as it hits the ground is what wakes you. The blast of frigid air is like a shock and you’re sitting up, blaster in hand. Din calmly reaches over, hitting the button to close the hatch. 

“Gonna shoot me finally?” 

You lower the blaster, taking a breath. You hadn’t even realized you’d fallen asleep. You hadn’t been able to since he left. You’d gotten so used to being around him, having him there, sleeping alone was nearly impossible. Until you had passed out from exhaustion, apparently. “Did you find him?” You ask, rubbing your eyes. 

“Just missed him. But I know where he’s headed.” Din climbs the ladder to the cockpit, the Crest shuddering to life. 

You lay back down on your makeshift bed, pulling the blanket back up around you. You feel the familiar lurch in your stomach as the ship jumps into hyperspace. It’s still a bit unsettling, but you figured you’d get used to it soon. 

You hear the clunk of boots as Din comes back down into the hull. You listen to him moving around a bit before the blanket over you is suddenly gone. You shiver, reaching out for it, but instead a body presses up against your back. The blanket is tucked around you once again, Din’s body instantly warming you. You notice the lack of cold beskar against you. When had he taken them off? How had he done it so quietly? 

You press back against him, seeking out the warmth of his body. Despite being out in the blizzard, he was still warm. You press back further, wishing you could crawl into his flight suit with him. At that moment you regret leaving Tatooine. You would take the sweltering heat over this frigid cold lingering in the ship. 

Din’s hand on your hip stops your movements. His fingers are gripping you tightly, digging into your skin as he holds you still. “Stop moving.” 

It’s not a command, his voice lacks the depth that alphas carried when they gave commands. Instead, his voice is rough and strained. It’s only then you notice something pressing into you, something that’s definitely not a blaster. 

“We don’t have time for that.” He breathes, nipping at your neck. 

Heat begins pooling between your legs, the musky scent of him flooding your nose. The scent is deep and rich under the scent of beskar and blaster residue that always followed him. His muffled growl vibrates through you as your own scent permeates the air. You want him, your body yearning to lose yourself in him. 

The moment ends as the ship begins to beep, warning of the approaching exit from hyperspace. Din’s breath fans across your shoulder as he sighs. He lingers for a second before he releases you, leaving the next. You feel the cold chill again as his warmth leaves, and you roll over into his spot. He’s left his beskar behind, taking only his helmet. 

You wonder if it’s just second nature for him, even though this is his ship. This was where he was comfortable. This was his life before you, hunting, living on the ship. This was his whole world, until his little green friend had invaded it, and then you. It makes you uncomfortable for a moment, thinking of yourself invading such an intimate space. 

He was your mate though. You were supposed to invade every part of his being, every bit of space he had before, and he’s supposed to want you to. 

The idea feels strange to you, but you could just be feeding off his own feelings. 

You stay bundled in the nest until the ship rattles with the landing, rumbling quietly as the engines shut down. Not long after, Din descends the ladder, dropping back into the hull. You sit up, watching him as he begins putting his armor back on. 

“You’re sure this is where he’s heading?” You ask, watching him. 

“That’s what I got from his contact.” 

“What if they alert him somehow, warn him that you’re coming?” 

“That’s a risk we have to take.” He says, moving to his weapons locker to stock up. 

You watch him, sitting up in the nest, wrapping a blanket around yourself. He moves so seamlessly, a practiced routine. You wonder how many times he’d done this very thing bounty hunting. This is like a bounty hunt, in a way. Only there were no credits waiting on the other end. 

This was purely revenge. 

You sit up on your knees as he moves to open the hatch, watching him. You know he’s focused now, those instincts driving him as he readies for the hunt. You remember hearing stories about the games mated pairs would play. How alphas would send their omegas out to hide so they could chase them and find them. It had once been very popular, back when omegas had been respected. Back when it was safe. 

“Hey.” You say, biting your lip as he turns his head slightly. “Be safe.”

Your scents are still thick in the air, his shoulders tensed just slightly. He turns to face you fully, looking every bit the dangerous alpha he had when you’d first met him. You find yourself moving before you even realize it, letting the blanket drop as you stand. You move to stand in front of him, looking up into his helmet. You want to take it off, want to look at his face again, but you won’t. Not now. 

He moves first, bending down as he presses his helmet against your forehead. You let your eyes close, focusing on the cool press of beskar against your skin. You let yourself get lost in him for a moment, forgetting the anxiety of what he was about to do. You know the risks involved in this. It was much bigger than just a bounty hunt. There was so much more than just catching this one man. 

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” You whisper. He grips your arms, his hold firm. He exhales shakily, the sound crackling through his modulator. 

He doesn't reply, but he doesn’t have to. 

You watch him walk down the ramp, waiting until he’s out of sight before you close it, locking it from inside. 

****

It’s almost a full day again before he returns. Your nerves have been almost double what they were before this time around. You’re not sure how you’re going to make it if every stop is going to be like this. 

Din’s footsteps are heavy as he makes his way up the ramp. For a moment you’re worried he’s been injured, but there’s no scent of blood on him. He smells of blaster residue and beskar as he always did. 

Then it hits you like a bantha. 

The heavy musk of his underlying scent washes over you so intensely it almost knocks you backwards. Your body instantly responds, a quiet whine leaving your lips as warmth begins to pool in your stomach. Din pauses for a moment, just long enough to close the ramp before he’s stalking towards you. 

“Do you have any idea how hard that was? Your scent was all over me.” He growls, dropping pieces of armor with every step. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, sitting here all alone and needy, waiting just for me.” 

You drop onto your back, legs falling open as you stare at him. “Alpha...” 

Din’s steps falter for a moment, a deep growl leaving his lips. “I almost killed that man with a single hit, I was so worked up.” He removes his helmet, looking at you with dark eyes. “All I could think about was getting here, back to you, omega.” 

The sound of your title on his lips has you clenching around nothing. You tug at your pants as he removes his flight suit, tossing them to the side as he falls to his knees in front of you. His hands are warm as they grip your thighs, yanking you closer to him. 

“I’ve thought of nothing but this sweet cunt since we landed.” He growls, slipping a hand between your legs. 

You whine, arching your back as you press your pussy against his hand. “Please, alpha!” She begs, grinding against his hand. “Please.” 

He watches you, sinking two fingers into you easily. “Good omega.” 

You practically sob, rocking your hips to try and take his fingers deeper into you. “Please! Need you!” 

It was terrifying, how much control he has over you. How easily he could elicit a response from you. At one time, the thought would have petrified you, but now you trust him. You wouldn’t have anyone else playing your body like an instrument. 

You whine as Din slips his fingers from you, stroking along his cock with his slick fingers. Your body welcomes him as he presses into you, your arms wrapping around him as he settles over you. You tremble a bit as he seats himself fully inside you, stilling just for a moment to enjoy the feel of you wrapped around him. You fit him perfectly, almost like his armor. Like you were specially made just for him. 

He had never really believed in fate. Not when the Mandalorians came to his rescue, saving him from what would have been certain death. Not when he happened to be the one to find Grogu instead of someone else that would have had no problem wasting him. Not even all the times things just happened to work out to his favor over the years. But looking down at this omega, while fully connected through body and soul, he begins to think maybe fate does have something to do with it. 

He begins to rock his hips slowly, staring down into his omega’s eyes. The intensity of your gaze scares him a bit, even so lost to instinct as you both are in this moment. Even when he wears his helmet, he feels as if you are staring straight through at him. Your nails are digging into his back, nearly breaking skin, but he doesn’t care. He’s lost in this moment, lost in his omega. 

He picks up the pace, the sound of skin slapping skin and their grunts and moans echoing around the ship. The wet squelch of your pussy is like music to his ears, driving him onward. You’re close, he can tell by the way you tighten around him. You’re moaning, his name and title falling from your lips like a prayer. His own back arches as he drags his hips against yours, drawing your orgasm from you. 

Your back arches as you come undone, his arms wrapping around you as his hips stutter, his pace breaking as he reaches his own peak. He stills as he spills inside you, letting his head drop to your neck. He mouths at your mark, your walls gripping him tighter as he nips at the delicate skin. You whine quietly, hands gripping his shoulders. 

“Alpha.” 

The name is like a prayer, a mantra of worship as you cling to him. He could stay like this forever, lost inside you in nothing but pleasure. He wants to, he wants to stay here, laying like this until his knees ache and his arms go numb. Maybe you should give this up while you still can. Maybe you should return to Tatooine. You were happiest there, with your adopted nurturers. He could be happy there, running jobs for Boba and keeping his pack safe. 

Pack. He could have his own pack. 

A real pack, with his omega and pups. Grogu had been his pup in some sense. All Mandalorians felt an attachment to foundlings in their care. It was different from the attachment to pups, but it could grow to be similar in nature as foundlings begin to develop their own instincts. He would always love Grogu as a pup, and the pain of him having to leave would never fully heal.

He had never thought of having his own pups until now. It felt right, the idea of settling down, giving his omega a safe place to grow and nurture his pack. The thought scares him. His entire life had been fighting and hunting, always on the move, always surviving. 

He’d give it up in a heartbeat if you asked him. 

You won’t though. He knows this. You’ll follow him without hesitation. It was what omegas did. You had asked him to do this, to find those who had hurt you. He had agreed without question, despite how dangerous he knew this was, how challenging. The risk of getting pulled deep into something entirely unknown was high. He knows you’re not telling him everything, but he won’t push. He’s not sure he can. 

You’re mewling quietly, licking at his neck as he comes back to himself. The feeling pulls a soft rumble from his chest. He scents you before he pulls back, sitting up on his elbows to look down at you. You look beautiful like this, eyes hooded in bliss. 

He’d do anything you asked of him. 

The thought terrifies him. 

Taglist:

@donttamethebeasts​, @unicorntrooper​, @spacecluster​, @hugmedin​, @hungrhay​, @fic-for-readers

[all-the-things-2020]

Deeds Not Less Valiant - Chapter Twelve

Chapter Summary: Din and Tala get closer and a tragedy occurs.

Rating: PG-13 (nothing explicit but there is some touching and mentions of mild sexual arousal)

Word Count: 1975+

After they returned from Mandalore, things went back to the usual routine, with one exception. Now Din came by Tala’s place twice a week: once to drop Grogu off while he met with Greef, and once when he left Grogu with IG-11 so he and Tala could spend some time alone. Sometimes they walked through town, perusing the items for sale in the marketplace before selecting something as a gift for Grogu; other times they just sat on her couch, talking and touching. Din was more comfortable on the former occasions, but he truly enjoyed the latter despite his awkwardness. He liked holding her hand, the way she played with his fingers and traced random shapes on his skin with her fingertips. He liked the way she felt pressed against his side, her head resting on his shoulder (after he’d removed his pauldron, of course — beskar was too cold and rigid to be an effective pillow). And he loved feeling her hands giving his thigh a little squeeze, tickling at his ribs, or fiddling with the collar of his undersuit.

At first, he was reluctant to touch her, but she soon made it clear that his hands were welcome on most parts of her body. He still hadn’t worked up the nerve to touch her anywhere that could be considered private, though. It didn’t seem fair when so much of his own body was still hidden behind armor.

“I have an idea,” Tala said one day as they settled onto the couch. Din was wary, because she was wearing a flowing dress, not her typical shirt and pants. The dress had a low cut neckline and only reached the tops of her knees.

“Um, okay,” he said.

“I know you can’t take off your helmet, but can you remove the rest of your armor?”

“I … I could, but I wouldn’t feel comfortable,” he said. “I wouldn’t feel safe.”

She nodded and reached for his arm. “But if you took off these vambraces …” She fumbled with the hooks that attached the beskar armor to his undersuit. “And the pauldrons, then you could hug me better.”

All Din could do was nod as she carefully removed the beskar from his arms.

“And if you took off the breastplate, I could lay against your chest,” she said. “We could cuddle.”

“I suppose that would be all right,” he said. He was getting nervous but it wasn’t fear; it was anticipation. He helped her unfasten the breastplate and lay it aside with the rest of his armor.

Tala smiled and crawled onto his lap, her arms wrapped around his shoulders and her head resting just over his heart. He let his arms slide around her and hold her close. “There, now isn’t that better?,” she asked. He could feel her voice against his chest.

“Much better,” he replied. She was warm and soft and he just wanted to melt into her. Even with the thick fabric of his undersuit between them, he could feel her body in a way he hadn’t been able to before. And it felt right.

They sat in silence for several minutes, then Tala began to talk. “I miss this. Cuddling. I probably shouldn’t be talking about another man while we’re this close, but Rix and I used to spend lazy mornings in bed on my day off. Nothing sexual, just curling up and eating sweet buns and caf and maybe watching a holovid or listening to some music. Just being together.”

“It sounds nice,” Din said. He couldn’t help picturing himself and Tala in bed, warm and cozy in the blankets. His hand strayed down her back a bit, dangerously close to her bottom.

“Of course,” she said, wiggling a little closer, “sometimes it did turn into something … more.” She slid one of her arms around his waist, her fingers dipping toward the waistband of his pants. Din shifted a little to hide the reaction that was occurring in his nether regions. He didn’t want to embarrass her. Or himself.

“Um, that’s nice, too,” he stammered.

Tala laughed. “Very nice,” she murmured, nuzzling against his chest. “But we can get to that when you’re ready. For now, cuddling is enough.”

Din nodded, but he wasn’t sure. He wanted more.

**********************************************

Tala didn’t want to push him, but she wanted Din to know that she was ready for whatever steps he was willing to take. Of course, she would have loved to kiss him, to feel his lips against her skin, but there were plenty of other ways a man could please a woman … and ways a woman could please a man. She’d thought about flat out asking him if he wanted her to touch him, but she knew it would embarrass him. So she’d opted for a more subtle approach. Now, curled up in his lap, head resting against his chest, she could feel him slowly relaxing into the embrace, and that was enough for the moment. She wanted him to feel at ease with her, with himself.

“I … I’ve never done this before,” he said suddenly.

“I know,” she said.

“I mean, I don’t want to disappoint you. I don’t want to do something wrong.”

She brought her hand up to trace circles against his shirt. “You won’t disappoint me. And you can’t do anything wrong. If you do something I don’t like, I’ll tell you, and you do the same. Not everyone likes the same things. Some people can’t stand to have their feet touched, or are extremely ticklish, or whatever. And you can ask for things. If I do something you really like, let me know so I can do it again.”

“I like this,” he said. “Just being together. Touching. Holding each other.”

“Me, too. But if you want more, just let me know.”

“Do you want more?”

“I do. But we’re going at your pace, Din. I have no problem with taking the scenic route, as long as we take it together.”

His hand slid from her waist to her hip. “I wish I could kiss you,” he said softly.

“Kiss me with your hands,” she said. “I’ll bet your fingertips are as soft as your lips.”

She slipped a hand behind him and pulled loose the hem of his shirt, exposing a tiny sliver of skin above his waistband. She trailed her fingers against him and she felt him shiver. “Just like this,” she said.

He hesitated, then raised his hand to her neck, grazing his fingers lightly against her skin. “You’re so soft,” he said. “And warm.”

“So are you, underneath all that beskar.”

He chuckled. “I’ve never been described as soft before. At least, not as a compliment.” His hand slid further down, shying away from her breast to settle against her side.

“You can touch them, you know,” she said. “You can touch me anywhere.”

“I … I know. But I’m not ready just yet. I’m enjoying this.”

“So am I,” she replied. And it was true. Just being held by Din was pleasurable. Knowing that he felt safe with her, that he trusted her … it made her heart swell. This is love, she thought, although she would never speak the feeling out loud. Not yet.

****************************************************

Is this love? Din wondered as he felt Tala slowly drift off to sleep. She was so trusting, so vulnerable. He knew what I felt like to want to protect someone who was helpless but this was different. This was more like quiet times with Grogu, when they were simply together, existing side by side and everything felt right. Nothing expected of him, nothing to ask for, just a warm happy feeling that he remembered from when he was a small boy. Feeling safe and … loved. Yes, it must be love. But not the same kind of love he felt for Grogu. This was something fiercer, more volatile. He knew these lazy caresses could erupt into something closer to violence, something that could hurt them both if they weren’t careful. Something he was just beginning to realize that he craved, at least with her.

He couldn’t rush into it, though. Love was one thing; making a lifelong commitment was another. People fell in and out of love all the time. They made friends and walked away from them every day. As much as he wanted to bare his body and soul to Tala, he had to be careful. Taking a spouse is forever, he reminded himself. There were ancient rituals for taking a riddur, words that needed to be spoken and witnessed and taken to heart as solemnly as the Creed. You have to be sure.

*********************************************************************

Tala got used to people deferring to her in the marketplace, stepping aside to allow her to pass. Word had gotten around town that she was “Mando’s girl” and no one wanted to risk insulting the High Magistrate’s number one ally. At first it was flattering, then irritating, and now it just was. Nevarro was civilized but too many people remembered the old days, during the Empire and just after its fall, when things here on the Outer Rim had been chaotic. Order had returned — real order, not the sham imposed by the Empire — but not everyone trusted it yet.

Which wasn’t to say shady things didn’t go on. Even Coruscant had its darker elements, and like most of the residents of Nevarro, Tala had learned to turn a blind eye to some of her neighbors. Like the Typhe twins, Maro and Haro. They lived on the block behind her, running an engine shop that mostly worked on land speeders and hover bikes and anti-grav lifts, but also engaged in some modifications that were not strictly legal. Every once in a while, an unsavory group would arrive, take possession of something bulky and vaguely menacing, and disappear, leaving the twins with a much more substantial bank account, judging by the liberal way they spent credits at the local cantina in the days following one of those visits.

IG-11 kept an eye on them, but they weren’t dealing in weapons or spice, and if their engines were powering pirate ships, well, there was no proof of that, and the pirates weren’t bothering the Nevarrans, so Greef was content to simply solicit a “donation” to the community fund when the twins were flush. And the twins were content to donate now and then, deeming it a business expense, and cheaper than paying off the Hutts like they’d had to do on the last planet they’d lived on.

So when Tala left work one day and heard an explosion followed by a cloud of dust and rubble in the direction of her neighborhood, she knew it had to be the Typhe shop.

Neeli! She ran toward the noise and confusion, fighting her way past everyone who was trying to get away from it.

“You can’t go that way,” someone shouted at her. “The buildings are falling apart.”

”My tooka,” she gasped. “I have to …”

A hand grabbed her arm and dragged her backward. “If your pet is still alive, it’ll be alright. If not, no use getting yourself killed, too.”

Tala slapped at the hand. “Let go of me!” She wrenched her arm free and kept running.

Her apartment building was in ruins. One outer wall still teetered in place, fighting gravity to stay upright. The rest was crumbled in a pile of plastisteel beams and concrete. Still, there were plenty of crevices where a tooka could take refuge.

I’m coming, Neeli. I’ll find you, girl.

She climbed into the rubble, coughing from the dust, her eyes streaming. “Neeli! Nee-nee girl! Come on, tooka-tooka-tooka. Neeli! NEELI!”

Her words were drowned out by the collapse of the standing wall, and she was covered in a shower of concrete bricks and mortar dust.

[whynotsableye]

BG3 OC (tagged by @illithidactivities, thanks for the inclusion!)

Name: Nia Liadan Valar (Pronounced Naya Lee-din vah-lar)

Nickname: Nia doesnt really do nicknames but she has grown quite fond of hearing the word "soldier" come out of a certain tiefling.

Pronouns: She/her

Star Sign: I've never put much thought into this, i havent even given her a birthdate lol

Height: she is 5'9" (about 175 cm)

Orientation: Lesbian

Race: Half-Drow, Half-human

Romancing: Karlach

Class: Spore Druid

Fave Fruit: Strawberries. Strawberries were one of the first fruits she tried in her first trip out of the underdark and they've been a favorite ever since, her magically produced good berries taste of strawberry as well

Favorite Season: Despite the fact that her favorite fruit blooms in the spring and is ripe at the end of spring or beginning of summer, her favorite season is the end of fall/Autumn, into the beginning of winter- right around the first real snowfall. The seasons changing reminds her of the ideals she holds as a druid.

Favorite Flower: If pressed she would say her favorite flower is lily of the valley, but at heart she would much rather have a culture of fire lichen or glow lichen

Fave Scent: Cinnamon, fresh bread, the ozone/plasma that builds on the wind before a storm, and fresh ground coffee. (and Karlach who she thinks smells like a campfire and cinnamon bundled together)

Coffee/Tea/Hot-chocolate? Almost always the answer is coffee, with a bit of cream, but she loves Tea- especially if there are natural additives she can find nearby. if she drinks hot chocolate at all it is almost always darker than most would prefer, with a stick of cinnamon.

Average sleep hours? 7-9 depending on if she is taking watch at camp or not. She likes to sleep, but if shes disturbed in the night its hard for her to go back to sleep which can easily make the odd night turn into 4 hours of sleep and 2 hours of laying in bed angry before making a pot of coffee and accepting she will just be moody the whole day

Dogs or Cats? Dogs! She loves dogs, and Scratch is the bestest boy in all the realms. she likes cats too. she herself hasnt kept many pets only the odd animal that would travel with her for a bit while she adventured (usually a wolf in the overworld, or a spider or rothe in the underdark, but these animals usually went on their own way after a time)

Dream Trip: Before the beginning of the game this answer wouldve been "travel the world" but after she started dating Karlach her dream trip is simply to take Karlach to her home grove and introduce her to the people that raised her and show Karlach the wild joys of the underdark.

Amount of Blankets: one- she doesnt get cold very easily (especially when sleeping with someone else) but when shes stressed she does want a heavier blanket or extra cuddling to calm down.

Fun Facts:

If you asked her about her parents, Nia would tell you she THINKS she has about 72 moms- this is because all the women in her grove that are mothers are mothers to all the children in that grove.

bonus fact from the first one, she didnt know the word Father until she was about 7 because she didnt have one and the men in the grove only parent their children and are instead more like uncles to the other children.

And lastly she has a real soft-spot for kids, and gladly wouldve taken every orphan tiefling from the druid grove in act 1 to her own grove.

I dont know everyone who has BG3 but if you follow me-especially if we are mutuals- and you have BG3 consider yourself tagged!

[quigonswife8]

When you’re sick and Din looks after you

gif creds: @manny-jacinto

warnings: only the use of pills [for sickness]

-

Your sickness starts off how it usually does: a headache, followed by a runny nose, and then a sore throat.

-It happened after being stuck in the cold for a number of hours. Surprisingly Din hadn't gotten sick like you.

-Din picks up that you’re sick pretty quickly. Though he can't get you anything until you arrive at Peli's [he needed to get a part for the ship]

-What he does do is make up a drink to help soothe your throat for the meantime.

-When you arrive you end up staying on the ship while Din takes grogu with him, and leaves to get you some stuff: headache + stomach medicine because you've been feeling sick amongst other stuff + the part he was supposed to pick up.

-When he returns Din gets the crest up into the sky and focuses on looking after you.

-After settling Grogu,l he will bring you over another blanket to leave by your side so if it gets too cold then you can grab it.

-Then he'll bring you some water and pills. It helps with the headache.

-Din will make you up something because he realises you haven't eaten yet. Just a simple stew.

when he was younger he had actually learnt how to make stew for his mum when she was sick.

-and he'll sit down next to you;

"i'm here for you so if you need anything."

-Doesn't care if he gets sick, to be honest. He only cares for your wellbeing.

-if he does get sick he'll make sure he gets rid of it pretty quickly so he doesn't risk getting you sick when you're all better.

-For as long as you're sick he'll keep up your fluids and will make sure you eat.

-brings you more blankets if you're still too cold.

-Din will monitor your temperature; if you're too sick he'll look for a doctor but if not then he'll just stay by your side as he's been doing.

-Gets you your own plush toy to cuddle.

and makes your bed more comfy if you need it to be.

-He'll just take such good care of you.

-When you're all better again you thank him more times than you can count and although Din says it's alright you still thank him.