#that he’s equally as mandalorian as she is

[gothamcityneedsme]

always sort of a weird moment when the most ic line is a flirt option lmao

[prankprincess123]

I find it really funny that in Star Wars, Han is canonically about the same age as Kanan & Hera (only a few years younger even in old canon), but because of how they grew up they veiw people 10y younger than them completely opposite ways.

Like Kanan & Hera grew up in active war zones with Generals as parents. They were forced to grow up FAST. They had to be functionally adults before they got a chance to be teenagers. And resultingly they look at anyone young enough to not remember the Clone Wars as babies. They see an angry Mandalorian teenager as the toddler she was in the Clone Wars, drawing on walls to express emotions she can't otherwise express. They see a force sensitive street rat as the tiny crecheling who wasn't even born till the final days, and wouldn’t have even entered the temple until a few years after the war, but who would have ended up his Padawan eventually anyway. And they adopt both in a heartbeat. They're in their 20s and see these teenagers, and are just like "Ah yes, our kids," and they are VERY much parental figures with an obvious generational gap.

But while Han does remember the Clone Wars vividly, he wasn't on or anywhere near the front lines. And he didn't have anyone actively raising him. He didn't have a chance to grow up and got stuck in a mental standstill during adolescence. So he looks at Luke & Leia, and he sees peers. It doesn't matter that he lived through an entire war before they were born, cause he sees very little difference between that one and the one they're currently in. He sees them as his own age group just a little younger and treats them accordingly. He treats them as friends and equals. Leia isn't a kid in his eyes, she's a spitfire woman who has seen more war than he has. And there's a little bit of big-brother-ing to Luke - but more based on Luke's naïvety than age. Theres nothing to suggest he views any real age gap between them, let alone a generational one.

But they're still the same age, and from what we see of their interactions are very much peers and friendly rivals themselves. Which makes me laugh at the confusion Han would react with to realizing that Hera's children are older (even if only by 2 days) than the twins and childhood friends with Leia...

[dyns33]

The way to communicate

Being a while since I did a Din Djarin x female reader.

It was rare for Din Djarin to get angry.

It's hard to say if it was because of his creed or if it was in his temperament, but he did his best to always keep his cool.

Becoming the father of a little green gremlin who had a hobby of getting into mischief probably forced him to be even more patient than he was before finding the kid, or meeting Y/N.

Even when the little one put himself in danger, Din didn't scream. Maybe he knew it wouldn't have any effect on Grogu, but he gently picked him up, using an equally gentle voice to scold him.

“I already told you not to do that.” he often sighed, patting the child's head. "You know you risk choking if you swallow a whole frog. Especially since you've already had two meals, you're not hungry."

“Gah !”

"No."

Y/N watched the scene with sparkling eyes and trying to hide her smile, because a great Mandalorian warrior, no matter how patient, probably wouldn't like to be thought of as adorable. He was supposed to be scary and awesome.

When he was with Grogu, Din Djarin wasn't scary at all. He didn't scream when the little one drew on the walls, or hid in a corner, or played with the buttons. Never.

Of course, it wasn't the same with enemies or bounties. He didn't like killing, he would avoid it if possible, but he had no problem accomplishing his mission without the slightest remorse. It was the Way.

Honor, strength, and protection of his clan were his priorities. As he was patient, Din was discreet. A man of few words, preferring actions.

Because of this, Y/N wasn’t sure where she stood in relation to his family. After she helped him find a former Empire general, while risking her life to protect his son, they had stayed together.

At first, Din had considered himself indebted to her. Then, he offered her a job, seeing that she took good care of Grogu when he was absent and that she had some knowledge of mechanics, very useful when the ship had some problems.

But could she consider herself a member of the clan ? Y/N wasn’t sure.

It would have been easy to ask the Mandalorian directly. He would then have clearly answered whether he saw her as a member, or as just a flying partner who took care of his child.

Asking the question directly meant taking the risk of having to face reality and accept the possibility that she wasn't as important to Din as he and Grogu were to her.

She therefore preferred to say nothing and take advantage of the time offered to her with them, experiencing many adventures, as well as wonderful moments.

Until the announcement.

"There are no new contracts at the moment and Grogu needs some rest, so we'll head back home to Nevarro."

"Oh. Okay. I'll probably go to Coruscant then. You can contact me if necessary." Y/N said without looking at him, continuing to play with the kid.

"… I'll drop you off."

The silence in the ship grew colder than calm as they headed toward Coruscant.

Rather than wait to get there, Din decreed that it was necessary to make several stops to buy supplies, check that they had enough energy, that the engine had no problems, and lots of small details that wasted their time unnecessarily.

"We could do all of this on Coruscant. It's not that far."

“I don’t want to take a risk.”

"But we checked everything before the last mission and…"

“I said we were stopping for water !” the Mandalorian then repeated with a loud voice and violently placing his hands on the dashboard.

This made Y/N jump, but also Grogu, who stared at his father with wide eyes, full of surprise and fear. Visibly ashamed of his reaction, Din sighed before muttering that he needed to cool off, leaving them alone in the cockpit.

Things didn't get better when they arrived in Mos Eisley. Not really wanting to stay idle, Y/N took advantage of the little one's nap to go for a walk in the market, while Din chatted with Peli.

She didn't want to go to Coruscant at all and all these stops might have been a blessing, but like with a bandage, she knew it would be better to leave right away rather than torture herself like this.

It was normal that the clan wanted to go home to rest. It was normal that she wasn't invited since she wasn't part of the clan.

What was less normal was Din's behavior, who seemed to avoid her as much as possible and be tense whenever they were in the same room. He had no reason to be angry with her, who continued to work normally despite her sadness.

The situation was also complicated for Grogu, who felt that something was wrong between the two adults. The poor kid ate less, sticking to Y/N every chance he got. It was almost impossible to get him off.

So Y/N wanted to take advantage of this little moment alone to get out of the ship and clear her head.

She didn't expect to be caught by bounty hunters who had spotted the Mandalorian's arrival. Despite Moff Gideon's death, there were still some people who wanted Din Djarin's head.

Since he was training Grogu to be a fighter, Din had also shown her some techniques, so she could defend herself if needed. Although he always added that it wouldn't be necessary, since he would be there to protect her.

Fighting a nice Mandalorian who held back his punches was one thing. Trying to do the same thing with three guys who didn't care about hurting her was something else.

Fortunately for Y/N, when she had just taken a blow to the nose which had made her fall to the ground and the leader of the gang approached to pick her up, Din arrived at that moment, quickly shooting the brigands without missing a target.

He then ran to pick Y/N up and take her back to the ship to tend to her injuries. Wanting to help when he saw her bleeding, the kid used his powers before his father had time to grab the first aid kit.

The panic subsided, a long silence returned, only broken by the little noises of Grogu asking to be carried by Y/N. But when she moved to lean towards him, the Mandalorian spoke.

"What possessed you to leave alone ? Without a word, without saying where you were going ? You were lucky that I noticed your absence and went looking for you."

"I didn't think I needed permission. And I didn't ask to be attacked."

"That's not what I said. But you could have gotten kidnapped ! You could have died ! Why didn't you tell me you were leaving ?! I thought… I thought that you left us. That you had gone to find another means of transportation to Coruscant."

“Why would I do that, since you’re taking me there ?”

“Don’t pretend to be stupid !” Din then shouted, pointing at her, almost scaring her.

The gesture probably scared Grogu more than her, who knew he was going to do nothing but scream like an idiot, but something happened that they would have thought impossible.

With his powers, the child pushed his father against the wall of the ship, as far away from Y/N as possible, then he jumped on her knees, clinging to her while moaning in fear.

The two adults remained frozen. Even though she couldn't see his face, Y/N could guess Din's shocked and hurt look, who understood that his son had thought he was capable of hurting the one he seemed to consider his mother. He saw fear in Grogu's eyes.

"No, I… I shouldn't have shouted." he whispered as he sat on the ground, lowering his head in shame. "Sorry."

"It's okay. I know you weren't going to do anything."

“Obviously he doesn’t know.”

“He doesn’t like shouting.” Y/N said, stroking Grogu’s head to comfort him. "He doesn't like arguments. We should go to Coruscant quickly, it would be better for everyone."

“You really want to leave us so quickly ?”

Din's voice almost broke at the end of his sentence. Y/n stared at him, but he didn't raise his head to look back at her, thus not seeing that she didn't understand his question.

"… You're the one who wants me to leave. So you can return to your home to Nevarro."

"… I meant our home. Grogu, you and me. I thought… I thought you understood, Cyare, but you rejected the invitation. I thought I misunderstood and that you didn't want to to be part of our clan."

“You mean… I’m part of the clan ?”

"Of course." the Mandalorian whispered, finally looking at her. "Mesh'la, we have traveled together for so long. We fight together. We raise Grogu together. I know our customs are different, and we haven't taken our vows yet, but…"

"Our vows ?!"

"… Yes. I've been courting you for a while. You accepted the gifts. You train with me. You let me kiss you. I didn't think it wasn't clear. Forgive me, cyare, I shouldn't have had any illusions."

Words were less important than actions to the Mandalorians, even if they had certain songs and rites. Y/N totally didn't understand that receiving a weapon and touching the helmet with your forehead had special meanings, and Din hadn't told her that.

In his corner, Grogu had only understood that his parents loved each other, because that was obvious, and they just needed to be together to be happy. The rest didn't matter.

All it would have taken was for Din to take them back to Nevarro without opening his mouth, and Y/N would have been surprised but delighted to be welcomed into their little home. Instead, he had tried to communicate, and it had been a disaster.

Now the son was afraid, trembling against Y/N who was processing the fact that Din had been thinking about marrying her for some time, until he realized that he had done everything wrong.

He had yelled at his clan, even if it was because he was afraid of losing Y/N. He hadn't known how to protect them properly. He was covered with shame.

"I don't want to go to Coruscant."

Since he didn't move, too busy determining if he had poked his head by being thrown by the Force, Y/N slowly got up, keeping Grogu close to her, to join him on the ground.

"I was disappointed that you didn't ask me to come. It wasn't clear to me that I was part of the clan, but it was my dearest wish. To stay with you and the little one. If you still want of me…"

“Cyare !” Din sighed, taking her hand. “Nothing would make me happier.”

“Bah ga ba !”

Grogu stirred then, patting his father's hand insistently so that he let go of Y/N's, his large eyes piercing the Mandalorian's berskar.

"... I have already apologized."

“Pato !”

"… I'm sorry for scaring you, and for yelling at Y/N. I won't do it again. I will never hurt any of you. And I'll make sure there are no misunderstandings before drawing conclusions."

“Aaaaaaaah.” was Grogu's response, who smiled again, holding out his arms to be picked up by Din, who complied without hesitation.

This made his parents laugh. They hadn't laughed in a long time.

The ship's coordinates were changed to go directly to Nevarro. No need to make any more unnecessary detours, since all the stops they had made so far were useless. Din was only trying to buy time, not knowing how to get Y/N to stay.

“So, you talked about vows ?” she said shyly as they landed, the kid sleeping on top of her.

"Later, Mesh'la. My request wasn't very romantic."

“Mandalorians worry about romance ?”

"No. But I imagine it will please you."

Y/N could have said she didn’t need all this. Knowing that he saw her as a member of his clan, as the mother of his son, was enough. But she didn't want another misunderstanding that might hurt Din, and she would be happy to be his wife, so she just nodded.

There was no more arguing, no more shouting. Not even when Grogu swallowed the ring that Din had the Armorer make. He simply sat down in a corner, grunting while tapping his helmet, while the little one hiccupped, regretting having eaten the little shiny circle.

“We can get it back in a few days.”

"No."

“We’ll clean it up.”

"Cyare, there's no way I'm giving you a gift that was eaten by the kid and which passed… Hmm !"

Luckily, the ring was spat out, but it took a while for Din to agree to take it back, and then officially offer it to Y/N. He insisted on going to Mandalore to purify it in the waters, while announcing to his peers that he would soon have a riduur.

He didn't bring Y/N and Grogu with him on this trip. The little one was too tired, and someone had to watch over him.

“Karga could have kept him.” Y/N remarked when Din had returned.

"He would have ended up losing his mind after Grogu destroyed everything in his office. I don't think the kid would have liked to be left alone either. Besides…"

"What ?"

"You are beautiful, Mesh'la. Some Mandalorians might have wanted to take you. I would have had to fight and kill them to prove that you are mine. I preferred to avoid that."

It sounded ridiculous, but he said it very seriously, his tone quickly becoming dry and somber.

Din Djarin did not often get angry, except when it concerned the protection of his clan, when someone tried to hurt them or take them from him. He hid his anger and jealousy beneath his armor, but it was there, ready to come out against those who had the audacity to confront him.

But never against Y/N and Grogu. Only for them.

[pascalispretty]

Leading Blindly

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 1966

Warnings: Reader is a sex worker, loss of virginity, Mando has a huge dick, woman on top, reader has a size kink, blindfolds.

Summary: A young Mandalorian seeks relief for the first time at a Canto Bight brothel.

A/N: My entry for Day Two of @absurdthirst's Kinktober - the prompt was 'Loss of Virginity'. I'm picturing an early 20s Mando here, but imagine what you like! My thanks as always to my beloved @misscharlielulu. (ao3).

The blindfold hadn’t been the strangest request you’ve ever received. The client had requested you specifically according to Lenera, the madam, as she helped knot the fabric tightly over your eyes. A Mandalorian she had whispered, almost in awe. You had waited in your room for the client, the heavy footfall signalling his arrival long before he spoke.

From sound alone you couldn’t gauge much; the heavy thumps of his armour as he set them down, the voice that sounded young even with the modulation provided by the helmet, the sharp inhale of breath when you pulled your silky slip up over your head to let him look at you.

His touch, when it came, was gentle but faltering. A virgin, you suspected. Everything spoke of newness and uncertainty, from the difficulty he had in articulating what he wanted to the hesitancy in the hand he rested on your waist.

Eventually he had agreed to lie back on your bed, his head propped up on the stack of plush pillows while you straddled his lap.

It’s how you find yourself in the Mandalorian’s lap, one hand resting on his abdomen as you slowly grind down on him.

“Don’t worry, Mando,” you whisper softly as you unfasten his pants. “I’ll take good care of you.” His breath escapes him in a hiss as your fingers slide beneath his waistband and wrap carefully around his cock. Even without your sight, there’s no mistaking it; he’s huge. You can barely wrap your fingers around the width of him, and the length is just as impressive.

In your years of working in the finest Canto Bight establishments, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen his equal on a human, much less such a shy one.

“Oh,” you whisper, trailing your fingertips down the length of him to better gauge just how big he is. “You’re so big.” For most men, it would have been nothing more than an ego stroke; for the Mandalorian, it’s just the truth. And unlike most men, who would have received such a comment with delight, the Mandalorian beneath you squirms.

“I- I didn’t know. Is it- Will it be a problem? I wouldn’t want to hurt you.” Instead of proud or aroused, he sounds embarrassed.

“Oh, you sweet boy,” you murmur, and he squirms again beneath you. “I can show you how to make it easier?” He whines when you make your offer, his gloved hands gripping harder at your hips.

“Yes, p-please,” he manages. It’s such a pity he won’t take the helmet off; you want to kiss his forehead and tell him what a sweetheart he is.

“You may need to take one of your gloves off then, Mando. Whichever hand is your dominant one.” Your fingers are still wrapped around his cock, stroking lightly. The thick weight of it in your hands practically making you drool. Certainly you can feel yourself getting wetter, slick pooling between your legs and making your thighs feel sticky.

His hands leave your waist, and you hear him slide one of the soft leather gloves off and drop it onto the bed beside him. With his glove off, he touches your waist again with new hesitance. You wonder how often he does this; has the chance to touch another person, with no barriers between you. It’s such an unexpected feeling of intimacy from a mere brush of the fingers, and your cheeks grow warm.

“You- you’re so soft.” He says, and the marvel in his voice is so endearing.

“Thank you, sweet boy.” With reluctance, you let go of his cock in favour of dragging your fingertips up the insides of your own thighs, gathering the slick smeared down your skin. You hold your fingertips up for his inspection, turning them to try and show the wetness glistening in the low light.

“The more aroused a woman is, the wetter and more relaxed she is. It’ll make it more comfortable, especially with what you’re hiding.” You tease gently, leaning back a little on his lap to try and give him a better view between your legs. With your own fingertips you part your folds, putting yourself on display for him.

“You see this, sweet boy?” You ask, tracing lightly over your clit and managing to make yourself shiver. “You want to make sure this gets plenty of attention. And if you have time, you should use your fingers inside too; it helps to open the muscles up.” He sucks in another breath, and you wish so badly you could rip the blindfold off and look at him, helmeted or no.

“Would you show me?” He asks eventually.

“Oh Mando, you’re so polite,” you say lightly, drawing a light circle around your clit. “You’ll spoil me for all my other clients.”

As far as you can tell, he watches intently as you play with your clit, showing him how to start slowly and softly, the signs a woman might make if she’s enjoying herself. The closer you get to coming, the more you feel him starting to squirm beneath you, and for one moment you wonder if you should stop, lest he finish too soon, before even getting inside of you.

“Keep going. Please, please don’t stop,” Mando whines at you – he must have noticed your hand starting to slow. “I want to watch, please-” The soft sincerity in his voice is what sends you over the edge, your free hand steadying yourself on his abdomen as you come. His hands clutch tighter at your hips, so hard that you hope he leaves you a mark to remember this encounter by.

When you get your breath back, he dips his ungloved hand lower.

“Can I?” He asks, and you nod enthusiastically before he can even clarify what it is that he wants. You moan loudly when he dips his fingers just barely into your cunt, a low groan rumbling through him as he feels just how wet you are.

“Oh, that’s it, sweet boy,” you murmur as he carefully slides one of his fingers into you. It presses deeply inside you, so much farther than your own can reach. That familiar heat starts to build again in your core, flames licking your insides as his finger brushes past an electrifying spot within you. You start to rock your hips, fucking yourself on his finger. He soon responds in kind, matching your pace as his gloved hand clings to your hip.

“Another, another,” you beg breathily after a moment. His fingers are thick, but you know his cock is so much thicker; you want to be as prepared as you can be. You whine as he slides the second finger in, your muscles easily flexing to accommodate him. Still riding his fingers, you bring your palm up to your mouth and spit, before wrapping your hand around his cock again.

He groans at your touch, his cock throbbing in your hand, and you can’t take it any longer.

“Mando, sweet boy,” you pant, his fingers still working inside you. “Are you ready?” No words escape him, just another low groan as he slides his fingers out of you. He’s breathing raggedly, even through the modulator of the helmet, and you swipe your thumb over the head of his cock. “I need you to tell me, sweet boy.”

“Ye-yes,” he manages. You notch the head of his cock against your opening, your muscles straining to accommodate the blunt, weeping tip. Slowly you ease yourself down onto his cock with tiny flicks of your hips, impaling yourself gradually. Beneath you, Mando is doing his best to hold still, to resist squirming for fear of hurting you.

“That’s it, sweet boy.” Your time with him so far tells you he enjoys being praised. “You’re making me feel so full.” With the first few inches of him buried inside you, you get braver with your movements, taking more of him with every downstroke.

By the time he bottoms out inside of you, you’re so full you can barely breathe. You’re not sure you’ve ever been this full, not even when that pretty Twi’lek socialite had paid you to let her fuck you with her fist. You rest your hands on the planes of Mando’s chest, your fingertips flexing as you try to adjust.

Your client isn’t much better off than you are. His breathing filters raspily through his helmet, his hands clinging to your hips as he tries to ground himself. When he gives a tentative thrust upwards, you moan loudly, the sound completely unfeigned.

Between the two of you, you set a relatively slow pace. He doesn’t want to hurt you, he’s made that much clear, and you expect he also doesn’t want to end things too quickly. His first attempts to meet your movements are erratic, but he learns to follow your rhythm, rocking up into you as you ride him. His gloved hand remains anchored to your hip, his bare hand begins to roam over your body, cupping one of your tits and squeezing carefully.

Mando braces his feet on the mattress behind you, allowing him to push somehow deeper inside of you with his thrusts. You tip your head back and moan, trying to recall when you had last experienced this much genuine pleasure with one of your clients. It’s not long before you start riding him in earnest; you don’t expect him to last long no matter what you do, but you want to enjoy his masterpiece of a cock as much as you can.

It’s not long before his thrusts become more erratic, his breathing coming harder from beneath the helmet. You try not to be too disappointed, instead quickening the pace, fucking yourself harder onto his thick cock.

“I’m- I think I’m gonna come, where…?” He eventually manages between low groans, and you arch your back as pleasure races up your spine. You won’t come, not so quickly, but it still feels delicious to hear the Mandalorian sound so utterly wrecked beneath you.

“Wherever you like, sweet boy, wherever will make you feel good,” you practically purr at him, your fingertips digging a little harder into the fabric of his clothes. His movements become clumsier, his hand squeezing a little tighter at the flesh of your tit. It’s not long before he comes inside you with a sharp groan, an almost pained sound; you hadn’t expected him to last nearly this long.

Even before he’s finished riding out his climax, you feel his seed start to drip out of you, forced out by the sheer size of him. You give him a moment, letting him catch his breath. He doesn’t relax though; even as his cock is softening inside you, the bare hand on your tit disappears, only to come back to your hip once again gloved.

Carefully, he lifts you off him, ignoring the come dripping out of you as he sets you on the bed beside him. With the blindfold on, you’ve no way of gauging just how much of a mess you’ve made, or what kind of state his clothes might be in. You listen silently to his movements as he stands and begins to put his armour back on; the soft clips and buckles, the heavy tread of his boots as he steps back into them.

“Am I- do your clients normally say thank you?” He asks eventually. You’re so taken aback by the question that you can’t help the giggle that escapes you.

“I don’t think I’ve ever had a client quite so polite as you, Mando.” You’re in no hurry to move; you lounge back on your bed, legs spread obscenely. “Come back sometime; I’m dying to see how much of that cock of yours I could fit in my mouth.”

Tag List:

@avengersfan25 @misscharlielulu

[pascallatte]

Angel?

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Actress!reader

Summary: GQ Germany with PEDRO PASCAL aka him fawning over Y/n over a single this or that.

Date: September 2020

Warnings: none

A/N: I love love love this interview, his voice, his hair, the vibes, HIS SMILE!!! Everything, alsoooooooo probably the last one for 2020 for now next one may be a throwback or we’ll move on to ’21 (most probably). SO everyone, happy reading and tell me what you think!! Love lots x

“Hi, I’m Pedro Pascal I’m here at GQ Germany Cover shoot.” Pedro’s seen sitting in a chair in the set of GQ Germany for this month’s issue. The team decided to get him in to join a quick get-to-know-him-better game, an upgraded version of This or That.

Swimming trunks vs beach shorts

Sucking in a breath when the staff shows him two pictures, ”I would have to go with shorts, because of what I could pull off at my age. Despite the continuous disagreement from someone.”  He smiles.

Sweater vs hoodie

“Hmm I love a sweater though but I really love a hoodie.” Biting his lip, Pedro asks.

“Can any of these be ties?… Really?!” 

“Oh, it has to be absolute. Hmm, this is something me and my girlfriend often debate on, ‘cause she steals most of my tops which makes me buy more but then when I do buy hoodies she tells me to buy sweaters. But since this is my interview hmm…Well alright, hoodie it is. Either way, we take turns using it.” With a very satisfied tone, he explains his side looking at a camera with a small fond smile.

Oberyn Martell vs Din Djarin

Shocked by what he’s been shown, Pedro can only laugh as he responds, “Wow, that is a really hard decision to make.”

“Umm, the armour didn’t work so well for me at the end of Game of Thrones, but it looked amazing,” taking in a breath as the gears in his head takes in the pros and cons of each suit and character.

“That being said the armour in The Mandalorian looks very very good and I'm still alive. So I guess I would have to- you know I can’t I just can’t I cannot betray Oberyn and choose The Mandalorian. But umm let’s just leave it at that being an impossible decision.”

Smart vs traditional watch

“Traditional watch, people who use smart watches are people who can’t tell or read the time. And by people I mean…” Pedro turns to look at the camera and gives it or soon the viewers a knowing look, in hopes that they know what he meant by that.

Fedora vs baseball cap

“Those are my hats!…Oh wow”

“Well clearly since you have a picture of a fedora that belongs to me and a baseball hat that belongs to me… I favour both” he elaborates while raising his hands in a somewhat joking accusatory way to the staff who has asked him to pick one between his favourites. To him, it’s like asking him to pick between things or people he adores.

“I cannot and you cannot make me decide between a fedora and a baseball cap. I love them both equally”

Facial hair or clean shaven

“What? Are you making me choose between clean-shaven or facial hair?” 

“They’re currently showing me two pictures of myself.” He stops for a moment, making his sort of thinking face as he thinks back to 10 or so years ago.

“One that is maybe… 10 years ago, where clean-shaven may have worked.

"Umm, I'm gonna have to go with the very strange patchy facial hair that I am capable of growing on my face.”

Contacts vs glasses

Answering immediately, “Glasses.. what a ridiculous question.” He shakes his head as if telling them the obvious as well as the light tone of his voice.

“Glasses, sticking my own fingers into my eyes? I have yet to cross that threshold.”He continues to shake his head as he explains why he’d chosen it.

Y/n’s sheer 2018 met gala dress or her 2019 white oscars dress

Pedro’s entire face lit up as soon as the staff showed him the choices. “Ohh bot- this is a hard one…I love both of them, and it looks incredible on her,” he emphasizes, adorably staring at the pictures.

Sitting still while continuing to admire his love, “Ahhh would you look at that..."

"She’s beautiful don’t you agree?” Pedro straight away smiles as soon as the staff behind the camera agrees with him.

“The first one makes her look like this mermaid or angel- you know like a fallen angel, just for me, and the other is very- something she would dress herself in with how simple yet elegant it looks. So I would have to go with her Oscars look.”

A voice off cam tells him something that had caught his attention, making his expression turn into shock and amusement, “It’s a wedding dress?! Really?! She wore a wedding dress to the Oscars… hmm” slowly ruffling his hair he sits back after getting a closer look at the picture.

Leather or bomber jacket

“Wow, leather jacket. I have and I think I always will love a leather jacket.” Explaining this with a small smirk that had him explaining his thoughts right after.

“Y/n has bought us a matching pair of these incredible vintage leather jackets and-so basically it’s something that I will never ever lose my interest in.”

Coffee or tea

Nodding his head, he looks straight to the camera, “Coffee. Coffee all the way.” 

Raising his hands up similar to a surrendering position to defend himself, he chuckles before continuing, “It’s not that I don’t like tea but then again coffee is what keeps me up and going other than y/n… who is by the way is also a coffee addict.”

Clasping his hands together, he finalizes, “Coffee, 100%”

"Thank you for watching and click here to subscribe to GQ Germany!"

the dress for reference:

A/n: so I wrongly timed the post of this one, instead of it being posted yesterday at noon it was set to 12 am today haha, never gonna do that again. Anyways if you're reading this thank you and have a nice day ahead of you!!!

Taglist: @benonlinear @t-stark35 @heyitsme-2 @elleeeee21 @holmesstrange @tagakalat @flyestvenustrap @oldermenaremyreligion @cherryred444 @hobiismyhopeu @ilovehotdadsandshit @djarinsstuff @guacala @avengersheart @pukka-latte @lilvampirina @mmkkzz

[tommysversion]

After watching the season finale, I’m just imagining domestic din 🥲🥲 i can imagine him falling for grogus teacher, at the school he goes to when he’s not on missions with din. especially seeing how nurturing and caring she is with him. And they live happily together as a clan of three ( maybe more 👀)

Yessss oml how cute ???

He doesn’t expect much to come out of sending the kid to school, but he’s not so arrogant as to think he can teach him everything.

Sure, he can teach Grogu how to be a Mandalorian. How to fight, how to navigate, how to negotiate. He can tell him stories and legends from their culture, but at the end of the day, he’s probably not the best one to teach the kid how to read, write, and do math.

Not like he can’t, but he just doesn’t have the patience. Besides, it’ll be good for the kid to go to school. Make some friends. He’s still only learning how to talk, but maybe that’ll come with socialising with someone besides Din, who, let’s be honest, isn’t the most talkative of people.

Navarro has a school. Two, in fact, with the population increase. One for the younger kids, one for the older. The younger kids learn their letters, how to read, math, geography. They play sport in the courtyard and make wooden swords to play with in arts class. The older kids study history, maps, languages. Some take apprenticeships as blacksmiths or mechanics.

Honestly, Din isn’t sure what to make of it. His own education was spotty, taught by older members of the clan. He never had a formal education as such, so he doesn’t know what to expect of someone who makes educating younglings their profession.

He certainly doesn’t expect someone like you, who’s so patient and kind. While taken aback at first, he finds himself watching you. Noticing little things. How you don’t chastise the children who are a little louder, a little different. How you make time for each and every child under your care, treating them all as though they’re special, all equal.

Maybe he was a little worried Grogu wouldn’t receive that same kindness. He knows his son is different, in a variety of ways.

It doesn’t seem to bother you; you find a way to communicate, to understand the kid even though it’s difficult. Once he’s worked out his letters, you give him a little datapad to input words into, and it speaks for him. It’s limited - Grogu can only learn so fast, and he’s still very young - but basic phrases are still giant leaps.

With the help of his data pad, Grogu can introduce himself, say yes, no, please and thank you. The other kids stop being wary of him and invite him to play with them. It’s kind of cute, actually, watching a group of five year old human kids and Grogu playing some sort of ball game. One day Din shows up to collect him and they’re finger painting together, Grogu and a little boy and a little girl.

You just smile at him as he walks in, put their picture on the wall to dry.

“We learned a new word today.” You tell him, and Grogu taps his datapad.

“Hello, dad.” The artificial voice says.

While he’s still wearing his helmet, behind it, Din smiles.

It’s almost inevitable that he falls for you. Inevitable that you reciprocate. You’re bonded by caring for the same small, strange child who endears everyone to him.

When he asks you to live with them, he’s nervous. Expects you to refuse. Is elated when you say yes.

Once you’ve moved into the little house, the walls decorated with paintings Grogu has done with his friends, you’re standing outside together, watching the kid play in the shallow water nearby.

When he turns to you, hands on your waist, and you in turn go to hesitantly remove his helmet, he doesn’t stop you. He lets you, lets you set it aside before he leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your lips.

What was once a clan of two officially becomes a clan of three, and honestly? He’s never been happier.

[oswildin]

Not Just A Passenger (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Summary: You and The Mandalorian have a complex relationship. He got under your skin, and you felt he didn’t trust you. However, slowly you begin to realise and understand it wasn’t that at all… It was quite the opposite.

Warnings: Violence/Injury, Confessions, Fluff, Angst, Takes place around season one

A/N: My first Mandalorian fic! It’s a bit rough round the edges, I just wanted to write something fluffy and cliche lol. Enjoy!

You had a love/hate relationship with The Mandalorian. You loved how he cared for the kid and how he was protective of him. You loved how his humour was dry and sarcastic. You loved his general broody personality. However, you hated that he seemingly didn’t trust you completely. You hated how he treated you like a passenger, not an equal. You hated how he would order you around and not listen to what you had to say. Sure, it was his ship, his mission… But you were apart of it. You were there to help.

The two of you often butted heads, causing arguments and dramatics which often made the kid watch you both with sad eyes. You never meant to upset the kid, but sometimes Mando just… He got under your skin. Peli witnessed one of your many arguments once whilst she was doing some maintenance on the Crest.

“I’m here too you know!” You exclaimed, looking up at Mando’s helmet. “I can help! Why won’t you let me?”

“It’s dangerous.” Mando simply stated, his voice still calm but with a hint of irritation.

“Duh!” You shook your head. “Do you think I think this is all for fun?” You gestured around you in a dramatic fashion, seeing Peli holding the kid off to the side who was making disgruntled little gurgles. “What are you so worried about? Have I not proven myself?” Mando went silent, letting out a sigh as he hung his head for a second.

“Can we do this later?” He dismissed himself, walking off as he gave a glance at Peli, before walking away.

“Ugh.” You grumbled, refraining from kicking a nearby scrap of metal in frustration. Peli glanced down at the kid before walking towards you.

“Yikes.” She raised her brows. “Trouble in paradise?” You scoffed, turning to look at her. “Don’t think this little one enjoys seeing Mummy and Daddy fight.” She bounced him up and down as you frowned, shaking your head quickly.

“No. We’re not-“ You almost laughed. “I’m not exactly mother material.” You landed on, as the kids ears lowered slightly, causing your heart to ache. “Look kid, nothing against you, it’s just-“ You paused. “God, he is so annoying.” You went back to Mando, shaking your head. Peli smirked.

“Seems like he really gets under your skin.”

“Yes! That’s exactly it.” You let out a breath. “He doesn’t trust me. And it’s obvious.” You slumped down, sitting on a nearby crate. Peli joined you, with the kid still watching intently.

“I don’t think our friend trusts many people.” She offered. “But, do you really think that’s the problem here?” You frowned, giving her a confused stare.

“Well, what else would it be?”

“Maybe…” She paused. “Maybe he’s just protective of you.” You took in her words, before raising a brow.

“Protective of me?” You almost scoffed. “The kid? Sure. Anyone can see that. But me?” You shook your head. “He treats me like I’m… I’m his subordinate. I want to be his equal.”

“Have you ever told him that?”

“Not outright.” You lowered your voice. The kid reached out for you, causing you to take him from Peli’s grip, as you held him on your lap, looking down as he stared up at you. “Besides, once this little one gets to where he needs to be, I don’t think there will be much reason for me to stay.”

“I’m not so sure about that.”

Mando returned after an hour or so, thanking and paying Peli for the work as he silently entered the ship, leaving you and the kid to follow. Great. He was still sulking. Sighing to yourself, you followed, going to put the kid down to rest as he was clearly getting tired. Once you’d put him down, you reluctantly headed to the front of the ship, joining Mando as he sat in the pilots seat, getting the ship ready for take off.

“So, are we going to talk about earlier or?” You asked, arms folded over your chest as you stood leant against the doorway. Mando stayed silent for a second, before speaking.

“There isn’t anything to talk about.”

“Yes there is.” You took a step towards him, wanting him to turn to face you. “I’m tired of being treated like… Well, like the kid.” You pursed your lips. “I’m not helpless, I can defend myself, I can help you, so use me.”

“I don’t need your help.”

Except, that’s exactly what ended up happening.

You were ambushed. Thankfully the kid was safe, hiding away in the Crest, but as soon as you both stepped off the ship, bounty hunters had you surrounded. Mando quickly sprung into action, firing at the hunters and using hand on hand combat to fight them off. You grabbed your own blaster, shooting at anyone who came near you. Looking up from your position, you looked over to see a Hunter coming up behind Mando whilst he was distracted by two other hunters. Your eyes widened, as the hunter behind Mando raised his dagger. Before you could react quick enough, the dagger caught Mando’s un-armoured neck, creating a slash. You blasted the hunter before approaching, stepping over the dead bodies before you as you shot the other two he had been fighting. Rage and fear consumed you. He was still standing, but you could see he was running on adrenaline. Satisfied you were safe, well as safe as you could be, you approached him.

“Mando…” You looked at him wearily, as he turned. You could hear his ragged breaths through his helmet. “Get inside.” You ordered him, to which he hesitated. “Mando!” You exclaimed, getting him moving. You could see his body becoming weaker in front of you, as you ushered him inside the ship once again, closing the door behind you.

“I’m… Fine.” He tried to wave you off, to which you ignored, immediately grabbing a med kit. As you turned, you watched as he stumbled into the wall, slowly falling down as he sat, leant against the cold metal of the ship. You rushed to him, gently tilting his head to see blood staining his under garments material. Unhooking his cape from around his neck and shoulders, you gently rolled down the neck of his shirt to reveal the wound. Whilst the wound was bleeding a lot, it didn’t seem to have got any main arteries.

“Maker-“ You breathed out, quickly opening the med kit. You grabbed some cloths as you pressed on the wound, muttering an apology as he hissed at the contact. “I don’t think you’ll need stitches, but it’s pretty nasty.” You told him softly.

“It’s fine.” He huffed out, trying to move, which led to you pushing him back.

“Mando, please… Let me do this.” You almost pleaded, your eyes trying to find his own behind the helmet. He hesitated before giving in, staying out. “It needs tending to.” You told him quietly. Grabbing the bacta bandage, gently placing it over the wound, smoothing it down as Mando let out a breath. “How do you feel?” You asked.

“Fine.” He tried as you stared at him in a stern manner. “No fever, just a bit worse for wear.” He landed on.

“Good.” You sighed, leaning back. “You lost a bit of blood, so you’ll probably need to rest. Whether you’ll listen to me or not…” You peered down, tidying up the med kit. You could feel his stare on you.

“Thank you.” He told you softly. You didn’t say anything as you moved to put away the kit. Mando took a second before slowly getting up, still leaning on the wall for support. You grabbed a nearby cloth as you wiped your hands, seeing specks of dried blood on your fingers. That was too close. He could’ve died. He was lucky the hunter had shit aim. Even with a dagger and such close proximity. What would you have done? If anything happened…

“It’s not that I don’t trust you.”

Mando’s voice broke you from your thoughts. You turned to him, furrowing your brows.

“Or that I don’t think you’re capable.” He continued, sighing.

“Then why?” You stepped towards him. “What is it that makes you treat me the way you do?” A moment passed.

“I don’t want you to get hurt.” He admitted, causing your heart to stop for a second. You stared at him with slightly widened eyes, your mouth slightly open. “You and the kid…” He paused. “You’re my responsibility.” Your features softened at his words, as you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“Mando-“

“Din.” He said. “My name is Din.” You couldn’t help the small smile that graced your lips.

“Din…” You let his name roll off your tongue. “You’re my responsibility too.” You said gently. “I worry about you. I want to help. As I keep saying…” You let out a breath. “You don’t need to feel like you’re the only one who has to look out for us all.”

“But it’s my job.” At his words you walked to him. He watched you closely. You pursed your lips before biting the bullet, deciding to wrap your arms around his armour, holding him in a hug. He tended for a second, clearly not used to the affection. However, after his tense stature dissolved, he relaxed, putting a loose arm around your back, accepting the comfort you were offering.

“No.”

Din tapped the kids hand gently, waving him away from your bowl of soup. For such a small thing, he didn’t half eat a lot. Laughing, you moved your soup slightly away from the kid.

“You can have the meat.” You told him as Din tilted his head at you as if to say ‘you’re too soft on him’. Picking out some of the meat from your bowl, you placed it in the kids hands as he gurgled happily before scoffing it down. Shaking your head at his antics, you took your own spoonful of soup to your mouth.

“We’ll set off soon.” Din told you, eyes behind the helmet roaming the room. You could see he was on high alert. His shoulders were tense, his hand resting on his blaster. “Can’t risk staying here too long.”

“Do you ever just… relax?” You asked, placing another piece of meat in the kids hands. Din turned to look at you.

“When I’m not a target, yes.” He breathed out, causing you to raise a brow.

“Hmmm…” You hummed in disbelief. “Why don’t I believe you?” He ignored your question. “Your vibe doesn’t quite give off ‘I’m capable of relaxing’.”

“My vibe?” He frowned behind his helmet.

“Yeah… You know… Your energy.” You shrugged. “It’s kinda uptight.” A hint of teasing was in your tone, causing him to shake his head at you. Before he could reply, commotion erupted outside, causing you to quickly grab the kid, and draw him to you. Din instantly got to his feet, hearing shouting.

“Out the back.” He ordered, as you did what he said, knowing the priority was getting the kid safe. He ushered you through the bar, a gentle hand on your back as he kept looking over his shoulder, seeing figures beginning to enter. “I counted three.” He told you as you finally made it outside behind the bar, standing in an alley. “Go, take the kid to the ship.” He turned back to you. “Go round the outskirts.” You paused, looking at him for a second, ready to argue, but he quickly jumped in. “I’ll be fine.” Sighing, you did as he said, pulling out your blaster as you quietly shifted through the alley, checking around you.

Thankfully, you’d made it out of the city without seeing anyone. Relief filled you as you spotted the Crest a few metres away. Peering down at the big dark eyes of the kid, he made a little sound as you reassured him Din would be ok. Running towards the Crest, you held the kid tightly. However, as you finally got close to the ship, a figure appeared from round the side of it, a blaster sound causing you to look round. Gasping, you aimed your blaster up at him, shooting him in the chest as he fell to the ground. Opening the door to the Crest, you quickly made your way inside, ensuring the kid was safe as you placed him in his mobile cot. Looking down at him, you furrowed your brows as you saw his ears lowered, and his eyes looking worried. His gaze fell, head tilting as your own gaze followed his, looking down to see blood seeping through your shirt.

Suddenly, it was like it hit you all at once. The pain hit you. What happened hit you. The damn Hunter had got you with his shot. Pressing your hand to your side, you swore under your breath, gritting your teeth.

“I’m fine.” You told the kid, letting out a breath as you moved to grab the med kit. Your legs suddenly felt like jelly, causing you to fall forwards, catching yourself before face planting the metal floor. Rolling to your back, you could feel your skin begin to sweat.

Din made his way into the ship, frowning as he saw the kid in his cot, looking concerned. His head finally snapped over to your direction, seeing you playing on the floor, unconscious. His heart stopped in his chest as he feet immediately took him to your form.

“(Y/N)…” He called out to you, kneeling beside you as he spotted the blood on your side. He looked over your face, seeing your skin looking more dull than usual, and beads of sweat on your forehead. Grabbing the med kit that was beside you on the floor, he hurried to open it. He didn’t hesitate as he gently lifted your shirt just above your wound, seeing a clear blaster shot. He felt rage and fear consume him. “You’re gonna be ok.” He was telling himself more than your unconscious self.

Gasping out a breath, you felt a shot of adrenaline coursing through your veins. You reached out, grabbing onto the nearest thing… Din. He was knelt beside you, fear consuming his features as he looked down at you.

Wait…

“Din…” You let out a breath, throat dry. He furrowed his brows, gently reaching for your hand as he took it in his own.

“You’re ok.” He said softly, eyes searching your own.

His eyes.

Not a helmet.

“Din- Your… Your helmet.” You uttered out in shock, turning your gaze away quickly as you processed what was happening.

Din had removed his helmet. You saw his face. You had seen his eyes. His features…

“It’s ok.” He reassured you. “I-I removed it.” He clarified, causing you to frown.

“Why?” You still didn’t look, out of respect.

“You’re hurt.” He squeezed your hand. “I thought-“ He cleared his throat, lowering his head for a moment.

“Damn Hunter… Came out of nowhere.” You grunted. “I should’ve checked-“

“Don’t do that.” He almost scolded. “Don’t- Just, focus on healing. Don’t think about it. The kids fine.” He paused. “You can look you know.” You swallowed the lump in your throat, slowly turning your gaze back to his own.

He was… Handsome. To say the least.

“But your creed…” You whispered.

“I thought I’d lost you.” He admitted, causing your heart to skip a beat. “That’s more important to me.”

“So…” You let out a breath. “I’m not just a passenger?” You raised a brow, causing him to shake his head, tightening his grip on your hand.

“Not just a passenger.”

It was safe to say, it was no longer and love/hate feeling you had towards Din.

[nerdieforpedro]

She made me Feel

Din Djarin x plus size female reader

My blog is 18+ MDNI

Word Count: about 2.8k (double the length of the original - because Din thinks a lot)

Summary: The Mandalorian constantly weighs different scenarios concerning the safety of his child and himself. Din Djarin's mind is now riddled with possible ways to interact with you. Can he figure it out?

Warnings: Din is a pile of nervous beskar, Din is also clueless, Peli is a menace to Din, awkward conversations, Din being so soft, mention of blood and injuries, first aid, HANDS, basically fluff (the fluff is back a little?)

Notes: The follow up to He Told Me His Name. Din might be a tad anxious. It's a companion piece to my other fic. I might do one where it shows where they are now. I thought Din's perspective would be good to see. The dividers are by the talented @saradika-graphics

Main Masterlist / Din Djarin - The Mandalorian Masterlist/ Our Journey Across the Star Ocean Series

I wasn’t aware Peli had anyone human working with her, only those damn droids. I first saw her repairing one of them, her hands working skillfully with the wires. I wondered why she was here. Her hands could be doing much more delicate work. She finished with the droid and sent it on it’s way. I asked Peli about her and apparently she normally works with droids and I did state that I only wanted Peli and her approved droids on my ship when I first started getting repairs here.

I couldn’t say then that I didn’t mind if she joined Peli in her work on the Razor Crest. I already can’t deal with Peli’s teasing today as she asks about my interest in her assistant. Grogu has already tested my patience with his tantrums about frogs. I told the annoying woman that my curiosity extended to her because she seems much more sane than you and your army of half-functioning droids. Peli did not take that well. She hit me with one of her wrenches. That will bruise.

When the ship needs maintenance, I keep an eye out for her now and she is always repairing some droid or another. She manages her tools as well, cleaning them, polishing them. Despite the grease and grime, her hands look soft and graceful like the rest of her. I wonder if I should offer to assist her with one of the droid’s repairs? 

Dank ferrnik, Peli noticed me watching her arrange her tools. She’s begun with the comments again… I endured only because Peli agreed to have her work on the Razor Crest now. I don’t give two wookies what Peli says, I have never slobbered like a blerg over anyone. I just…respect that she’s an expert. Similar to me with weapons of my clan. 

This time I managed to say hello. Maker it’s nerve wracking. She may be equally as nervous. She only said hello back and looked at her tools. This is a complete mess. I hunt bounties for a living, talking to a woman is not impossible. Just difficult, small talk is painful. Peli has a smug look on her face. If she wasn’t so well acquainted with my ship and cheap I’d…well I’d threaten to go else where. She is here. I would rather not.

Now we exchange greetings with some pleasantries. About business and droids…the only damn thing those buckets have ever been good for. I was able to say a few sentences to her. She replied with her own. I am unexpectedly happy about this. I want to talk to her longer but not a clue what to talk about. 

Maker, why am I even trying so hard? My only focus should be on my Creed and my foundling. My eyes are always drawn to her, watching her. I thought at first it was similar to one of my bounties. Watching and waiting. I know patience and timing with my jobs as they’re for credits and when I can find it, beskar for our covert but I do not want to wait for her to come over to the Razor Crest. I want to go to her but I realize that a figure clad in armor and weapons head to toe is rather…intimidating. I think I’ll carry Grogu when I go over, that should make me seem less fearsome.

Despite napping, my foundling has proven most useful. We spoke at length about him. For almost an hour, I believe. I find myself less nervous and I believe she is as well. Peli spoke to me outside of the Razor Crest away from my dear mechanic. She’s proposing that I bring her with me. One of the few good ideas Peli has had since I started having this woman repair my ship. 

I waited until my next trip to ask her. I needed to find the right words. I thought I had them but the eluded me after I greeted her and asked how she was. She greeted me with the same smile that she’s given me that last few times I have been here. Maker I hope she’s open to the idea. Seeing her smile daily would be…should…should I be courting her? I feel this strongly about her. I may have missed a few steps in this process. No matter.

“Can I ask you something?” Din is still nervous, but he is slightly less so in the familiar space of the Razor Crest. It’s cold metal echoes his own beskar. The only source of warmth, the woman who he has an important question for. A want, he told himself but was quickly becoming a need. She nods, setting her tools down and wiping her hands on the worn apron she often wears to protect her clothes. He had her full attention. As much as he was worried to have it, he relished in it for a moment before cleaning his throat.

“Sure Mando. What is it?” Thankfully she couldn’t see his face grimace at the nickname. That was for people he wanted to keep at arm’s length, not those he wanted close. It wasn’t something he’d put much thought into as he’d been a Mandalorian since they’d taken him in and been taught their ways. He was certain that only his brothers and sisters in the coven would know his name. His son Grogu had opened his heart to truly caring for another person again. Din had wondered if he was longing for the same type of relationship with her as he saw in his coven between riduurs. Maybe down the line. I don’t even know if I want that now. I just know I’d like her to be with us on our journey wherever we go.

“Would you like to come with Grogu and I? It would be better if we had a capable mechanic with us.” Din stood quietly and waited for her answer. He held his breath and exhaled when she said she would think on it.

“Are you leaving again soon?” She asked him, the delicate hands he watched so often kept folding a corner of her work apron back and forth. He understands the feeling, it’s the same as when he inventories and cleans his weapons and especially his beskar. It’s soothing, he would have found this to be pleasant if it wasn’t his question that had made her need it. A similarity between them, other than a shared soft spot for a certain green child and a large pre-empire craft that they chatted about. “I want to give you an answer but I also want to think about it properly.”

Din nodded and let her be. “I don’t leave again for a few days. Take the time you need.” She didn’t outright say no so there was a chance. As it turned out, she later said yes the day after next. One step forward, she was joining him and Grogu on the Razor Crest. He remained quiet most of the time with her, just happy that she was here with them traveling. 

The small incidental brushes began when they would work in tandem to make repairs to the Crest. The shoulder bumps, her hip bumping his thigh when she would turn slightly to reach for a tool or to maneuver to manipulate wires. He noticed she would move away from him and he was worried that he was crowding her but she mentioned something much worse, “Sorry Mando, I take up a bit of space. I think-“

“No mesh’la you don’t. We just need to figure out a better method to complete the repairs. Please, you are…” I paused. What did I want to tell her? How can I say it? Maker I don’t even know… “You are fine as is. You take up as much space as you like.” Dank Ferrnik….what does that even mean? She turned away from me and I felt like an idiot. This would be the time I don’t bump my helmet on something white fixing this ship.

“Thanks Mando. No one’s ever quite put it like that.” He heard you laugh and his fears were quelled. Thank the Maker you were so understanding. But he worried about what you may have said about yourself. That was when he decided. I don’t think I should hope that we touch anymore. I think I can make it more purposeful. So she’ll know that I find her beautiful and that’s part of courting right? Maybe I should have asked different questions of The Armorer and Paz when I was back on Navarro. No only The Armorer, Paz pisses me off too much and I will not owe him any more than I already do.

At the market, I made sure to touch between her shoulder blades on her back to guide her as Grogu’s pram floated next to us. She didn’t flinch, and I didn’t want to touch lower back because that would be inappropriate. I do wonder…sometimes. But only wonder. 

I began picking up bounties and would need her and Grogu to stay on the Crest to be safe. That doesn’t seem fair, she said she wanted to see the galaxy. I can teach her some self-defense and how to shoot a blaster so I’ll feel slightly better about leaving them alone. Her hands are small in mine, still so gentile, except with a wrench. She was nervous but got the hang of it fairly quickly. We keep practicing until her aim improves. I encourage her every time we make a stop to shoot and she does. I’m trying to make my voice sound softer I suppose, I’m not really sure except outside of Grogu how that sounds. She responds to it and smiles more often, we’ve grown closer and I’m thankful that she’s making progress but it’s slowed some so I can continue to mentor her. 

Maker I have ulterior motives when I do. I can’t think of another good reason to touch her. 

I couldn’t help it. She was holding Grogu and trying to explain the different bolts to him. I bet he was trying to play with her tools while she was sorting them. I placed my hand on her shoulder. It felt like it should be there. She looked up at me and I nodded. I hope she took that to mean that I’m fine with her holding my son. I walked away because I didn't know what to say. She didn’t say anything either. 

I’m lying to myself. I’ve long accepted her holding my son. The Crest wouldn’t be the same without her here. Waiting for me, playing with Grogu, walking through the market, sitting in a comfortable silence in the cockpit. I even look forward to checking my weapon inventory when she’s checking her tools and at the same time. I didn’t think occupying the same space as someone would be so rewarding, well in a different way than my son. Should I tell her any of this?

No. It’s too much and I’m not even sure what this is.

Now wherever we go, I ensure I’m guiding her by her arm, back, or hand. I know I wouldn’t really lose her, she’s clever and would find Grogu and I quickly. The fear is there, I don’t want her to leave, she might want to one day. This life isn’t made for the masses. She’s voiced no complaints. What would I even say if I had to convince her to stay? 

The hunt didn’t take long and this bail jumper is annoying. The only reason I haven’t said I’m putting him on carbonite is that he finally shut up. 

We’re back to the Crest and there’s blood. Too much blood. I put him on carbonite as I spot her and Grogu. He’s a few feet from her, appears to be unarmed. I don’t detect any other life forms on the Crest. The child's scream feels like it will pierce my helmet, I can’t blame him. I too want to scream at the sight. She’s face down and her back is entirely wet with crimson. I ripped her shirt and bra to visualize the wound. It’s large, nearly the entire width of her back, part of her shirt has stuck to the wound. I’ll need to rip more to see, but then her back will be fully exposed and she’s vulnerable as is.

“I apologize for this. I’ll need to cut off the rest of the back of your shirt to clean and apply the spray and…” This is so much different when it’s someone you care for. “It may be easier for me to do if I remove my gloves. They’ve become too slick with your blood. Is that alright?” It feels silly but I need to ask, I need to know it’s okay. I need to let her choose, I already ripped her shirt without asking.

“It’s fine Mando. Do what you need to do. Grogu’s okay right? I didn’t get any blood on him, I think.” She’s worried about my son at this point?! Maker I…I need to focus for her sake. It’s been months since I took off my gloves near another person. I dabbed her back with gauze to remove the residue from what looks to be some local fauna that are quite violent. Their secretions inhibit clotting to weaken their targets and so they can gorge themselves on their blood. Next, I applied pressure to try and get the bleeding to stop enough so the bacta spray will work and won’t wash away in her blood. It appears after a few minutes the bacta spray is holding and the bleeding is slowing further so I apply pressure dressings and make them tight. It may make her a bit sore but the bleeding should stop with this. 

I need to keep watch over her. I placed her in her bunk and wrapped her up tightly. I need her to rest and recover. I want her to wake up and we have more moments, more time. I don’t want her to leave but after this…I can’t blame her. 

She woke up! “You’re awake? Has the pain subsided? I should check-” She shushed me before she sat up. Pulling the blanket back around her should keep her cool. Before I fell asleep beside her, I charted our course back to turn this bail jumper in. I apologized to her. She recalled her training and how she kept Grogu safe. Part of me is proud but she still was hurt badly, I could have lost her. “Mesh'la were not safe. You were hurt badly. Do…I would not blame you if you wanted to leave.” Words I won’t want to say but do anyway. I want to beg her to stay but it wouldn’t be right. She’s not a warrior like I am. She wanted to see more than the Peli’s garage. I can’t give her that without danger. 

She holds my bare hand and tells me, “I refuse to go. I will not. You’ll have to toss me off. I’ve seen so many things and places and I want to see that much more. You’re stuck with me Mando.” This isn’t the threat she may think it is. “I’m not going to but. I just don’t want to go.” First my son and now… a partner. Someone who wants to be by my side. 

“I am called Din. Please do so while it’s just the three of us.” My thumb stroked her palm and she chuckled. I wonder if I can make her laugh more maybe daily. “You will remain and hopefully I will hear more of your laugh.” Your smile only grows with his answer. “Please rest for now. Our journey isn’t over.”

I told this to her three months ago. Sometimes in the cockpit when the three of us are sitting, I remove my glove and reach across where her warm hand awaits mine as I speak her name. I’m happy to hear my name from her lips when we’re alone. A glove is what I can give her now. When she smiles softly at me I want to give her more, so much more of myself but I’m not sure how. Learning more of her and loving her as the shape of our relationship changes.

I wonder where else she may allow my hand to go. How else she may say my name as we travel and see the galaxy. Will I change the way I say hers? I wonder if I can tell her that she's both my mesh'la and my cyar’ka. Is it still too soon? Maybe as we continue to explore the intimacy we now share, then I can tell her.

Our journey together continues. This is The Way.

Part One. Part Three

Space Buddies 🚀: @linzels-blog @maggiemayhemnj @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @missladym1981 @morallyinept @sherala007 @yorksgirl @daddy-dins-girl @magpiepills @megamindsecretlair @anoverwhelmingdin @theincredibleinkspitter @alltheglitterandtheroar @mrsmando @drawingdroid @harriedandharassed @i-own-loki @lady-bess @pedroshotwifey @thefrogdalorian @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin

[aliorsboxostuff]

So how about sub din who is just started to date Dom reader and hasn't taken his helmet off yet. So things are getting steamy with them both and is din sitting on readers lap grinding on him and reader asks if he wants to take a step further and din nods yes. And reader makes sure that din is comfortable and says to leave the helmet on for din and doesn't want to rush him. And leads to din first time with reader and is riding him in the control room in the razor crest. I hope you are doing good and really glad that you are taking mandalorian requests.-🐸

A/N Oh 🐸, you with your amazing ideas, and always so descriptive! Though I gotta change the 'Started dating reader' part because the Din in my heart is a socially awkward mf that needs at LEAST 6 months of relationship development before holding hands. I also hope you are doing well! Yall gotta bear with me here this is gonna be my FIRST take on a star wars fic, let alone a Mandalorian fic, so if I do make any mistakes while writing some Mando'a words here, feel free to DM me or reply so I can fix where I wrote it wrong! As always, apologies for some mistakes, english is my 2nd language, and enjoy dear Readers! <3

Ner Din'ika 

Tags: Din Djarin x m!Reader, Grogu, Luke Skywalker, he's there as Grogus's teacher tho lmao, Mando'a words (Translation at the end), Bottom!Din, soft!Din, Keldabe kiss, First Kiss, Riding, Pet names, touch-starved!Din, fluff, fluff and smut, aftercare.

Din's first time with you is—as expected—filled with yearning and want and scalding touches and a kiss? 

[Takes place around the time frame of Grogus training in Book of Boba Fett, but i refuse to let The Razor Crest explode so here we are]

You stand at the mouth of The Razor Crest, watching as Din supervised Grogu’s latest training with Luke. The kid has flown a total of five little pebbles and an even more impressive number of bigger boulders, seven now counting. Din, worry and protectiveness practically oozing from his armor, stands off to the side, just near the tree lines, eyes watchful of his foundling as Luke, yet again, lets the little boy fly over his head. You’d deem it dangerous, stars, maybe irresponsible. But what do you know about Jedi training?

Instead, your eyes follow the line of Din's stature. His arms are crossed, leaning against some of the bamboos. Clearly trying to resemble a sort of relaxed stance, but you can see the tension, feel it even. Comes with being a Mandalorian’s boyfriend, you chuckle. Those broad shoulders lean back, Beskar reflecting the shining light of the growing evening, slowly he turns his head to glance at you sitting on the Crest’s mouth. You meet his visor, grinning, before he curtly turns back to where he was watching his kid. Your smile widens.

You met him through Cara Dune. She’s a good friend of yours, the one who pulled you out of your boring everyday life on Sorgan, used to fish the little morsels from your villages ponds, to hanging around her and earned her respect. Until that Beskar donned man and his little green kid came. Thought he wanted to take in Cara and you were ready to step in his way, but after they dueled, they came to a truce and started their alliance. He helped the villagers fight off the raiders that once terrorized the place, and once that's done he opted to leave, not before you hitched a ride to Nevarro with Cara.

It had to be admitted, the kid did catch your heart and held on to it, so you offered to help him and Grogu find his kind. Cycles after your initial meeting, you’ve grown close with both Din and Grogu, curious at the man’s past and equally drawn to him. Then that imperial bastard, Moff Gideon, had to up and steal the kid. So you, Cara, Bo-Katan and Hell, Boba Fett himself, joined forces to save him. 

The universe truly is bountiful to its protector, because you didn't take into account that saving The Mandalorians kid would give you the honor of learning his name and, by stars, becoming his boyfriend. Remembering back to those months, you still think you're the luckiest warrior in the whole galaxy to be blessed with such an amazing and loving clan of three. 

Reeling back to reality, far into the field, you see Grogu has gone tired and Luke has halted their training for the day, the little green guy already slumping into the dirt below and curling in on himself. You sigh fondly, walking down the ramp and jogging to wear Grogus doe eyes are already half lidded, and he yawns. 

“Come here kiddo,” You coo as you pick up his little body, cradling him in your arms. You see Luke talking to Din, too far away for you to catch, but you could see him nodding to Lukes animated chatter. You smile, glancing back down to Grogus little head burying himself deeper into your warmth, he’s already pawing at the jacket you're wearing, which makes you giggle and pull it around his little body. 

Luke walks over to where you’re standing, smiling as he sees Grogu already bundled up by you. “We should have dinner first before we sleep, right Grogu?”

Now that made his floppy ears perk. Grogu immediately turns from where you were hugging him, making grabby hands and incoherent words at the idea of food, which you smile at before handing him to Lukes waiting arms. 

“We’ll join you in a bit,” You said, and Luke nodded, already turning back into the direction of his temple. 

On cue, Din approaches you and slides an arm around your middle, pulling you to him at which you welcome the tug. With a steady hand on the cool Beskar chest plate, the two of you watch as Grogu flails his arms around, undoubtedly talking about something that only Luke could understand, the serenity of the fields surrounding you lulls you into a sense of peace. You turn to meet Dins visor, directed at Luke and Grogu, before it slowly turns to you, making you smile softly. Slowly, you bring your hand to caress the side of his helmet, fingers edging slightly under it, taking in the feeling of that powerful metal that has saved your boyfriend countless times. His gloved hand holds your wrist, not tugging away, just an anchor, a testament to his trust in you to know you’ll never take off his helmet, to know you’re patient to let Din take his own pace. 

The hand holding his helmet pulls slightly, and Din comes with. Your eyes flutter close as you feel the cold Beskar touch your crown, sighing when a shaky hand cups your jaw, bringing you closer. Despite the gap the armor creates, you’re never tired of feeling Dins hand on your nape, heavy over your pulse, burning even through his gloves. You smile, pulling back slightly, before you press a kiss to where his cheeks would be. “Let’s eat, cyar’ika,” You whisper, and you feel him nod.

You smile when he pulls back, arm still securely on your hips while the other smoothes over your jaw. You chuckle, pulling him to the smell of dinner being prepared by Luke, tugging him by his hand.

— 

After dinner is done and cleaned, Din has given Grogu his nightly bath and the kid is ready to pass out at any moment. Luke has taken him to his quarters and settled the little one on his own bed, just on the other side of his room. The bots have yet to make more sleeping quarters, still focusing on more classes and storage area, so the only available bed room would be Lukes, where Grogu is also staying. 

You and Din have known this from your last visits, opting to sleep in the privacy of the Crest instead. So you and Din bid the two a good night, and trek up the clearing where the ship is docked. 

Din’s arm never left your side, holding and pressing slightly, making you arch a brow at him. He only stares at you, undoubtedly false innocent eyes inside that helmet. You scoff, nudging him aside before pressing the button to close the ramp, submerging the two of you in the darkness of the Crest, shards of the twin moons the only thing leading you and Din up into the hull of the ship. 

His hands now roam around your body, pushing you slightly until your back hits the wall, you return his desperate touch with the same fervor. Finding the sliver of body suit on his hip not covered by his armor, you snake insistent fingers into the fabric and squeeze, his helmet not able to hide his groan.

“Easy dearest,” You smooth your hand over the area, other hand holding the side of his neck, thumb drawing soothing circles. “Let's take these off, alright?” He nods shakily.

You lead him to the compartment next to the sleeping pod, the table there clean of clutter and made to store Dins armor. Piece by piece, starting with his shoulder pauldrons, each part eased off with care, pressing a kiss to the Mudhorn signet, you can hear Dins stuttered breath. Then down to his vambraces, littering kisses from his shoulder and leading a path down to his forearm, then hands as you carefully pry off those thick gloves. You push Din slightly so his waist hits the edge of the table, pressing another kiss to the bare skin of his hand, half lidded eyes meets his visor at which you hear him exhale a ragged breath. 

Carefully unbuckling the belts around his breastplate, setting it on the table before you pull off the breastplate, the bodystocking stretches over his broad chest deliciously. As you put the armor piece aside, your hand smoothes over the fabric, pressing slightly where you know Din is sensitive the most, watching him inhale sharply before you smirk, littering kisses on your way down. As you crouch, you move to take off each leg piece, first tigh guards, pressing light kisses on the exposed fabric, then shin guards and the belts on top of it, then finally the knee-pads and his heavy boots. Gentle hands stoke up slightly, pushing the end of his pants up until you feel the tickle of leg hair, Din visibly shaking on top of you, gripping the table behind him until his scarred knuckles turn white. 

You smile, languidly making your way up his body, unwrapping his cape and setting it aside. The final divide between you and your boyfriend. His last brick, and the wall crumbles down. 

Shaking hands clasps at your back as you press kisses on his still covered clavicle, making the fabric damp and warm as he squirms. You hear his breath grow ragged, then you bite down, just enough to hear him groan and drop his head to your shoulder, his hands holding onto you like a lifeline. 

“Sleeping pod or-” 

“T-the cockpit…” He falters as you press another kiss nearing his neck. “Please,” 

You hum, nodding against his neck before leading him by the hand, careful touches along his hips as you usher him up the stairs. You follow suit, not forgetting to grab the lube from the compartment on the wall. 

When your feet touch the cockpits floor, Din impatiently pulls you up, hands stroking over your chest, down to your hips at which he breathes raggedly under your chin. You chuckle, moving him back until he feels the control panel. He almost jumps to sit on it, but you sit back on the captain's chair, you pull him towards you, making him stumble into your lap. His whine reverberates through his helmet's modulator adding a static edge to it. You made sure he’s comfortable before sliding your hands to his back, reaching to tug the zipper down. 

The zippers opens his backside into the night's cold air, making him arch into your warm touch, pressing his clothed cock to your lap. He whines from the movement, holding on to your shoulders, almost crushing them. With each skin slowly being revealed into the night's air, you press your lips against it, reveling in each whine and ragged breath you got out of Din. With every part of the suit being peeled, Din’s tanned skin is shown, bathed under the light of the moons and stars. Scars on his body paint an infinite constellation, your eyes following each one, from the deep ones to those that have grown lighter than Dins expanse of skin. 

Finally, he pulls at the tight bodysuit, discarding it somewhere on the floor, and his hands paws at your jacket, labored breath impatiently prying it off of your figure. You grin, shrugging the article off, followed by your shirt, leaving the both of you shirtless and breathless. Dins shaking hand strokes down your shoulder, to your arms, before he arches into you when your languid fingers trace his sensitive back, sending jolts rippling through his body. 

“Please…” Despite his helmet still perfectly secured on his head, you could feel his warmth ghosting at your neck. It truly has been a while since you and Din shared some privacy, always jumping from planet to planet, looking for more Mandalorians to repair broken bonds and doing favors that benefit Din’s covert. Only now did you and your boyfriend get to breathe in the warm embrace of peace within this planet, so you're not surprised just how sensitive Din has gotten.

“What do you need kar’ta?” Your hand holds Dins hip, no doubt leaving marks to be cherished in the morning, letting him grind himself on your thigh, broken moans and breath singing into your ears. You pride yourself for learning bits of Mando’a if only to hear his gasps each time you use it. “Hm? What do you want?” 

“I- ugh,” Din grunts as he feels one hand snakes into his trousers, stroking him steadily, his precum easing the movement. You smirk, other hand tweaking one of his perked nipples, bumping your head against his, making sure the amber in your eyes burns through his visor. The need melts into his skin. 

You’ve never gone past reverent touches and helping each other get off by hand, you haven't even gotten the pleasure of seeing Din fall apart by your mouth, but from the way he grinds into your touch, broken moans filling the room, his desperation leaks into your body. “Want me to fuck you?”

“Stars- Yes.” He moans when you tighten your hand just so. You nod, easing your hand away from his cock which makes him whine, until you begin to help him out of his pants.

“Okay, alright,” Your breath stutters when Din grinds over your cock, already tenting in the confines of your pants. Between you and Din’s relationship, the both of you haven't truly moved on from scalding touches and helping each other get off by hand. This is a new territory for Din, and you have to make sure he feels safe and comfortable in your embrace. 

You carefully slide him out of his trousers along with his briefs and discard it with the same pile as his top, feeling his strong thighs shake underneath your touch. Fumbling for the bottle of lube, you pour just enough on your hand and warm it up a bit, before following Din’s tailbone down to the top of his arse. He shivers, whining into your shoulder as he feels your digits ghosts over his hole, already squirming in your hold. 

“Come on, please,” He begs, nails scratching at your back. You slowly insert one finger, the tip first, letting the Din situate himself to the foreign feeling. He groans, burying himself deeper between the crook of your neck, his mandibles digging slightly at your jaw. The lube easies your finger to push more, deeper, until you hear his high pitch, broken moan, then slowly push in another. At that, he jerks his head to the side, chest still flushed with yours. 

When you begin scissoring, Din throws his head back, arches into your touch, which beckons you to chase him, biting at the now exposed column of his neck, making sure to leave marks no one but you know and Din could feel. Din feels delirious, deeply intoxicated from both your fingers and the feeling of your warm mouth pressing over sensitive skin and old scars, jolting each time you bite down or kiss longer to leave darker spots. He scarcely remembers moaning out broken syllables that should form your name, making your hold on his hips tighten, squeezing the scarred skin. 

After deeming it enough prep, you carefully pull your fingers out, pressing kisses on the planes of your boyfriend's chest, feeling him take ragged breaths, a steady hue of red throughout his body. You shuffle to discard your pants, hissing when you feel the cold air hit your heated skin. You could feel Din growing impatient, if the way he squirms could be interpreted as that, so you tug your pants off and align yourself under Din. 

“Slowly baby, slowly,” You remind him, his thigh shaking with anticipation. Hands holding under his thigh, making sure gravity doesn't take hold, you lower Din’s shivering body, inch by inch. The tight heat of his hole almost stutters your hold, making you groan, feeling the head of your cock inside him. You can feel Dins graps digs into your shoulders as he gasps.

Finally, your thighs are flushed with Dins, feeling the man shudder above you as you try to regain some sort of composure, breathing in shaking breaths. Din claws his way from your pellicals to your chest, making red rivers across your chest. You groan, pushing into his touch, which in turn shifts where you sat, enough to make your boyfriend shiver.

"M-move." He manages. "Move, please." 

"Anything for you mesh'la," You say as your teeth dangerously ghosts over his pulse. 

Planting your feet on the metal floor, you suppress the cold that shoots up your bones and instead focus on holding Din upright, thrusting into him with each movement. His arms shakes, moves back to grip the control panel, his scarred knuckles a hue lighter. A deep growl rumbles through you when you feel Din’s hole clenching around you, raking blunt teeth across his chest. You trail reverent kisses across a deep scar that runs from his left clavicle to just under his abdomen, Din shivers. In a more tender moment, slowed down after release with the two of you tangled together, you would've asked what those scars meant, wondering about the stories of your boyfriend's life. Maybe later, much later in the night.

When you hear a mewl, almost a hurt sound coming from the man currently flushed on top of you, your lips curls into a sharp grin, before hauling Din from gripping at the ships console to fall into your grasp, his arms immediately around your neck with a choked gasp from the sudden change. With the chair supporting both of your weight, you have the advantage to claw at Din’s hips, digging calloused fingers into his skin, using your strength to push Din up and down.   

You feel yourself nearing the edge, with Din clenching around you it’s hard to keep up the pace. The side of his helmet would leave an angry mark on your shoulder, making you grunt when Din lets out a broken whimper and buries his head to the crook of your neck. “C-close, baby,”

“Me too…” He lets out a breathy moan when your hand finds his dick, pumping it hastily, pushing him to his limit.

“Stars i-” You stutter when Din clenches around you. “Fuck- Wish i can kiss you,” 

Slip of a tongue. Shit. 

Your movement falters, a shiver shoots up when Din pulls his head back, dark visors looking straight to you, assessing you. 

"Din i-" But before you could sputter out a reason, an apology for forsaking the trust he gave you, darkness suddenly envelops your vision, rendering you blind. Dins hand covers your eyes, you could feel his calluses over your skin.

Then, as if a searing star itself break the atmosphere, you feel slightly chapped lips against yours, a tickle of stubble and- Is that a mustache? 

Din grunts into your mouth, realizing you still have one hand wrapped around him. He moans, moving with your thrusts, his kiss devouring your gasps as you push at him, deepening it. His tongue traces yours and confidently moves in, effectively rendering your brain into a short-circuit. Your mind briefly wonders how such a reserved man has this much skill in kissing, he’s no virgin but surely he hasn't kissed anyone beside you. Then he bites at your lower lip before bringing you deeper again with a hand on your nape, and all hell breaks loose.

You growl into the kiss, basking in the whimper he lets out as your hand moves faster and thrust grows sloppier, but definitely still hitting that spot that makes Din scream. He pulls back, inhaling sharply when you bite lightly on his jaw, feeling the hair that decorate it. Oh you’d worship him just to see his debauched face without being blind, and the thought is enough to make you cum. 

You feel yourself release inside Din’s warmth, making him shiver and let out a broken moan of your name. With your hand jerking him off, he follows suit, throwing his head back, painting his chest with strings of pearly cum. Once spent, he slumps into your embrace, helmet already in place and breathing raggedly next to your ear. You pry his hand off your eyes and press a kiss to the sliver of neck you could reach. 

Blinking away the little dots from your eyes being closed and pressed by his hand, you slowly steady your breath as you rub circles on Dins pelicals and lower back, feeling him sigh and melt at your touch. You can't help to let out a chuckle, which earns you a questioning sound from your boyfriend. 

“Nothing, just…” You smile, licking at your lips, trying to savor Din’s taste. “Best kiss I've ever had.”

That made him chuckle, nuzzling the cool helmet against the side of your neck. “Me too.”

Your smile widens, closing your eyes and simply letting the warmth of after-sex wafts through the cockpit. Speaking of which, you should probably clean up and sleep in the proper sleeping pod. The seat, plush as it is, won't do your back any good. So you reach for your scattered pants, looking for the fabric you always keep in your back pocket. When you finally find it, you shift Din a bit to clean up the mess that went up to both his and your chest, then carefully pull out of the man, making you groan as he shivers, wiping down what leaks out of him and the remaining lube around your length. 

Standing up and making your way down takes another effort, but nothing you can't do for Din, sleepy and content Din in your arms. Pushing the button to open the sleeping pod, you set him down on the edge of it before handing him a bottle of water.

“Drink, love,” You grin, before busying yourself on the table where another water bottle is kept and downing it. You hear the hushed shh of Dins helmet as it’s being taken off, then the cap of the water bottle turning. You swallow another gulp of water, before flashes of earliers heated kiss shocks you and makes you choke on the water slightly. You cough, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before closing the bottle and setting it back. 

“You uh… Done?” You clear your throat.

“Yeah,” You nod, turning back to see Dins helmet back on and him extending his arm, returning the bottle to you. You set it on the table and push him back to lie down in the pod. It’s always been a tight fit with both you and your boyfriend sleeping in it, but you make do.

When the doors are shut and the lights turned off, another hiss of Dins helmet makes your heart thump harder, but he shifts to place it on a small compartment off to the side and lays his head on your chest, one arm around you. You hook your arm around him, the other playfully raking through his curls. You could tell just from how it coils around your fingers, Din practically purring into your touch like a Loth Cat. You grin, pressing a kiss to his forehead before shifting to get comfortably on the pillow. 

“Good night, Din'ika,”

“Good night, Cyar’ika,” 

Cyar'ika: Darling, beloved, sweetheart 

Kar'ta: Heart

Mesh'la: beautiful

Requests are open! 

[thefrogdalorian]

Hiiiii can you please do a din djarin fic where he is helping the reader with her injuries and she is nervous and insecure

Hello there, dear anon. It would be my pleasure! I started off writing Din tending to your wounds and an actual plot sort of developed out of it. Might've gotten a little carried away, but I hope this is something like what you were looking for.

Hope that you enjoyed it and thank you for sending me a request! ♡

Word Count: 2398 Rating: General Summary: You have spent the last few months caring for the son of a mysterious Mandalorian who moved to Nevarro. Along the way, you found yourself developing a crush on him. However, when you arrive for your latest shift, you are stunned to discover that rather than caring for Grogu, Din wants to spend the day with you. Although it doesn't go entirely as planned, you both end up with a little more than you bargained for. Content Warnings: Brief descriptions of bloody injuries to reader's hands and knees.

The touch on your throbbing hand was so achingly gentle that it was difficult to believe the man currently tending to your injuries once had such a notorious reputation for violence and destruction throughout the galaxy, thanks to his time in the Guild. The Mandalorian that you so admired had assumed many roles throughout his life: first he was a son, then a Mandalorian foundling. During adulthood, he had been a mercenary and a Bounty Hunter long before he was a father. There was even a brief time where he was technically Mand’alor, before his current role working with the New Republic. But today, Din Djarin took on a new role: nurse.

The day had started off promisingly enough. You arrived at Din’s cabin on the outskirts of Nevarro for your usual shift, expecting to take care of Grogu while Din ran some errands in town. But instead of answering the door like he usually did, clad in a full suit of armour and holding Grogu in his arms, Din's appearance was noticeably different. While he wore his usual helmet and gloves, everything else was unrecognisable. Instead of his unpainted Beskar, Din wore a form-fitting brown shirt with matching brown shorts and what appeared to be hiking boots. You were instantly curious, fearing you had perhaps gotten the time for your shift confused.

But even more intriguing than Din’s appearance was that Grogu was nowhere to be seen. Before you could question Din on his son’s whereabouts, he explained that he had already left Grogu in the care of High Magistrate Karga. You turned to leave, realising that, clearly, your services would not be required today. But Din gently grabbed your wrist to prevent you from walking away so that he could explain his actions. It transpired that Din wanted to spend the day with you and that leaving Grogu had been the first step of his plan. Now, it was time for the two of you to spend the day exploring the volcanic planet you both inhabited.

As the two of you had set out on a hike across the lava flats of Nevarro, you found your head was spinning with questions. Why in Maker’s name did Din want to spend time with you? What had you done to be worthy of his time? After all, you were initially employed to look after Grogu because Din was often so busy during the brief time he spent between missions that he wanted to enjoy his time and run errands that could be difficult with a child tagging along. Why would he waste a day on you?

Despite the questions spinning around in your mind, you were too shy to vocalise a single one of them. It was to be expected, as you found that you were always nervous in Din’s presence. You found him equal parts intimidating and mesmerising with his hulking, looming presence as he shimmered in all of his unpainted Beskar glory. You loved his deep, raspy voice and the way he held himself so confidently.

After so many months of getting to know him and caring for Grogu, you found that you had developed somewhat of a crush on the mysterious Mandalorian who you had taken on childcare duties for. Although some of your nerves had dissipated the more time you had spent with Din, there was still a feeling whenever you were around him that you could not quite explain. You just knew that whenever you left him, you ached to be in his presence. Any amount of time with him would never be enough.

Was it a possibility, given his sudden desire to spend time with you, that Din reciprocated such feelings? It was a thought that had caused you to almost fall over your own feet several times, so giddy were you at such a prospect. You had mentally chastised yourself each time, reminding yourself that you needed to focus and keep your balance. There would be nothing more embarrassing than tripping over yourself because you were too busy daydreaming about what being on the receiving end of Din Djarin’s affections would feel like.

So, instead, as you followed Din across the planet’s surface, you tried to focus on the purposeful, even steps that he was taking by staring at his weathered brown boots. But even that proved difficult, given the fact that above his boots were his legs, which were, for once, bare. You found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from his muscular calves as he strode along Nevarro’s grey-black volcanic surface. The firmness of his skin and how tanned it appeared fascinated you. You wondered what such skin would feel like beneath your hands. Would it be soft and smooth or weathered like the leather of his boots? You wondered, too, whether the smattering of dark hair on his legs was any indication about the hair on top of his head. You knew that removing his helmet in your presence would violate his creed, but you wouldn't lie and say that you weren't curious about what he looked like. You often wondered whether Din's face matched his gorgeous voice.

You watched in awe as Din's muscular arms reached up to adjust the bag that was slung across his broad shoulders. You were just appreciating being in his presence as much as you were his physicality. Ever since you had first met Din, you had felt inexplicably drawn to him. You would follow him anywhere in the galaxy, should he only ask. 

As it happened, today he was asking you to join him on a hike up one of the volcanos that littered the Nevarrian surface. You had been a little daunted at the prospect of such an endeavour, but Din promised you that the views would be worth it. So despite your reservations, you began to follow him to the top of the volcano. 

Things had been progressing nicely for the most part. Although you had struggled to keep up with Din at first with the long strides he took, he had adjusted his pace and the two of you had fallen into step at each other’s side.

Your heart felt as though it was beating out of your chest. You weren’t sure if it was because of the exertion from hiking up a volcano or at the realisation of how close the man you harboured a crush for was to you. Although the temperature was beginning to rise as it approached the afternoon, you were actually starting to enjoy the hike. The frequent water breaks that you took were welcome, too. You and Din would sit for a few minutes and share sips from the canteen of water he had brought. Din used a long straw to take his sips, a sight that you found impossibly adorable. There he was, such a mountain of a man, using a small straw to take small sips of his drink.

As you set off from your most recent water break, it appeared that the path ahead of you narrowed. You and Din resumed walking in single file, treading a careful path across the surface. Din warned you to mind your step as there were rocks up ahead, but in the couple of seconds you took your gaze off the path to look at what lay ahead, your foot snagged something. 

Everything which followed seemed to happen in slow motion, you put your hands out to brace yourself, which proved to be a painful mistake.

“Din!” You screamed as you tumbled to the ground.

For a few moments, you thought that you had avoided any injury. Your pulse was racing, your heart pounding in your head as you lay there disorientated. The first thing you heard once your senses returned was the crunch of the gravel underneath Din’s boots as he raced to your aid. Then, the T-visor of his helmet came into view. Din placed his hands underneath your shoulders and gently helped you into a seated position. It was only then, with him in front of you, that you finally felt the extent of your injuries.

You howled in pain as Din held your left hand carefully in his. Finally, you felt the way it stung. Your palm throbbed, it felt as though you had just been cut by shards of glass. Although the cuts weren’t deep and, luckily, you had avoided any stones getting stuck in your skin, blood was seeping from the cuts on the palm of your hand.

“Oh dear. That looks painful,” Din offered sympathetically as he assessed the extent of your injuries. “Hold on, I have a medkit in this bag.”

As Din swung the bag over his shoulder, you looked down at the rest of your body to check for further injuries. You felt your stomach drop as you noticed more blood oozing from your leg.

“Din, it’s my knee, too,” You whined, as your left knee joined your hands throbbing with pain.

“It’s okay, I have some Bacta patches and spray. I’ll have you patched up in no time,” Din said softly.

You sat back and watched as this enormous, hulking man removed his gloves and began to tend ever-so gently to your wounds. Perhaps, if you weren’t in so much pain, you would have appreciated the fact that the two of you were touching skin-to-skin, with no barriers between you.

Din's broad shoulders hunched over as he carefully examined the damage and began to apply the Bacta spray to your hands. You had been privileged enough to witness the softer, caring side of Din Djarin on multiple occasions since you had met him during the time the two of you had spent together in his cabin. However, the caring side of him was usually reserved for his interactions with Grogu. But today, it was your turn to experience this tender side of the Mandalorian that you had once been so intimidated by.

Now the Bacta spray was beginning to take effect and lessen the thrumming pain in your hand, you found that nerves overtook you. Your heart raced with anxiety. You were so nervous that being in such close proximity would reveal the extent of your feelings for Din.

But you were distracted by such thoughts as Din applied the Bacta patches to your injured hands. You bit your lip to stop the tears that threatened to fall down your cheeks, moved by how much care he took with his ministrations. With your hands successfully cared for, Din moved to address your injured knee.

“You probably think I’m a clumsy fool,” You scoffed as Din tended to your knee, suddenly embarrassed at how careless you had been in his presence. The man just wanted to spend his day off hiking up a volcano, he had invited you to join him and you had ruined those plans by being such a bumbling idiot.

“Never,” Din shook his head with absolute conviction in his voice. Din raised his helmet to look at you and softly added: “I could never think such a thing about you, cyare.”

The tears you had been holding back then flowed freely down your cheeks. You found yourself so moved by his reassuring words and the kindness and warmth in his voice. The word Din had used meant nothing to you but you supposed it was from his native tongue.

“Come here,” Din sighed as he inched his way to sit closer towards you. He moved his hands to cup your jaw gently, wiping the tears that began to feel with his thumbs. 

The comforting words and actions had the opposite effect, however, as more tears trailed hot paths down your cheeks.

“I’m sorry for ruining your day, Din,” You sniffled apologetically as you struggled to meet his helmeted gaze.

“Ruin it?!” Din exclaimed, incredulous at such a notion. “Never.” He asserted. “Any day I spend with you is a day to be treasured. I enjoy your company.”

“Really?” You asked, stunned at his admission, wiping your cheeks with the backs of your hands as the tears finally began to subside.

“Of course,” Din nodded. “I’m sorry today didn’t work out. I wanted to show you the most gorgeous view on Nevarro. As it turns out, it appears it was right here in front of me all along…”

Your mouth hung open and your eyebrows shot up your face as you stared at the Mandalorian by your side in stunned silence.

“Oh, Din…” You whispered, voice full of emotion. But you were still a little confused. You furrowed your brow and sought clarity: “Do you… I mean…” You stammered, unable to form coherent thoughts following the implication of his words.

“Let me be clear: I intended for us to hike to the top of the volcano so that we could finally have some time alone,” Din took a deep, steadying breath before he continued: “And once up there… I could tell you that ever since I met you, I haven’t been able to shake you from my mind. I think you’re an incredible person and, if you’d allow me to, I’d like to get to know you better.”

“I’d love that, Din,” You practically squealed. “Although, perhaps for our first proper date, we should do something indoors,” You joked, the pain from your fall already subsiding after the rush of excitement that coursed through your body after Din had confessed his feelings for you.

Din laughed at that and wrapped his arm around you. The two of you shifted to a more comfortable position on the ground, swinging your legs out over the side of the rocky path and facing out to the rest of Nevarro. Even though you hadn’t made it to the top due to your unfortunate accident, you reasoned that it couldn’t possibly be as incredible as this. You were sure the view was even better from down here, especially with Din’s strong arm slung around your shoulders. You smiled as his hand rubbed the top of your arm gently as you leaned against his firm, warm chest.

You sighed in contentment as you gazed across the volcanic planet before you. It may have taken you falling flat on your face to finally force the two of you to address your feelings for each other, but it was undoubtedly a price you were willing to pay.

[flightlessangelwings]

Lady and the Merc

Axe Woves x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 4.6k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ only!), mutual pining, feelings, cheeky Axe, tension, flirting, fluff, takes place in the Gins for Hire episode Notes- I know a max of like 10 people will care about this fic but Axe gets no love on here and I've been thinking about him ever since he came back in the new season! He’s just so fine omg so I couldn’t help but write this!!! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates​ is my update blog to stay up to date on when I post! Feel free to follow that too and turn on post notifs!

~

It created a great commotion when the Mandalorians showed up on your planet. Amidst the glam and the colors that illuminated your planet, the mercenaries stood out, and many gawked as the leader and his two top trusted companions entered the palace. You stood at the Duchess’ side, her right hand as you had been your entire life, while she explained the need for protection on your planet.

“And acting as liaison between our peoples,” she gestured to you as she introduced you by name, “She will make sure you have everything you need and keep communication between our people open.”

You stepped forward as your nerves flared; the leader was even more handsome up close. “I look forward to working with you,” you extended your hand for a shake, “And I personally want to thank you all for coming to our aid and keeping our people safe.”

“The pleasure,” the leader took your hand, but instead of shaking it, he brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it tenderly, “Is all mine,” he gave you a wink as you felt your skin burn under his touch, “And call me Axe Woves.” Behind him, the other two equally beautiful Mandalorians rolled their eyes at his antics.

“Axe Woves,” you breathed his name as you fought to keep your composure under his gaze.

Axe smirked, “It sounds beautiful on your lips, my lady.”

“You can just call me by my name,” you repeated it back to him as your nerves felt like they set your body ablaze. And it only got worse when he echoed your name back with a small bow.

This was going to be harder than you anticipated.

*

The Mandalorians settled quickly on the outskirts of the city. They made themselves comfortable in the lush grass as they set up camp in the sunshine and fresh air. You made several trips outside the city to bring them provisions and make sure they were comfortable, and every single time you encountered Axe Woves, you left feeling flustered. You hid it well, though, and you never let it show just how much his charming smile made you weak in the knees. Somehow, however, you had the feeling he was aware of the effect he had on you.

A few weeks passed, and things were luckily quiet. When you came out for your visit, you found Axe leading a training practice. Instead of disturbing him, you decided to sit down on a crate and watch quietly. His voice was fierce as he commanded his people, but it was never harsh. You could tell he knew what he was doing, and that he cared about the safety and wellbeing of the other Mandalorians. And while you barely knew him, you had the feeling that Axe Woves was an honorable man. 

And then he made eye contact with you.

“That’s enough for today,” he said to the others who quickly dispersed to rest while he strutted over to you, “Enjoy the show today, my lady?” Axe took your hand and gave the back of it a light kiss: his way of greeting you every time.

You swallowed hard before you answered, “I’d heard stories of Mandlorians, but it’s an honor to see the legends in person.”

“You are too kind, my lady,” Axe replied with a charming smile. But, you thought you caught him falter just for the briefest of moments. Was he secretly just as flustered as you were?

Breaking past the nerves, you asked a question that was on your mind for some time, “Would you teach me a few things?” you took a breath as Axe’s eyes went wide for a moment, “I’d like to know how to defend myself if the time ever came.”

Axe smiled brightly at you, “I would be honored to teach you, my lady.”

*

“Block. Block. Perry. Good!”

Sweat lined your brow as you kept up with Axe’s instructions as best you could. He started you off easy, and you could tell how much he held back so as to not hurt you. But, you picked up his tips and tricks quickly and his lessons quickly escalated. 

“Find your opponent's weakness,” his smooth voice went right to your core as the adrenaline rushed through your system, “Stay sharp.”

“Got it,” you huffed as you prepared yourself for another round.

Axe came at you again with a grunt. He swung at you as gently as he could as you raised your arms and used them as a shield to block his attack. You blocked three hits before you swung back, catching him on the shoulder.

“Ouch!” you exclaimed as you rubbed your hand.

“Beskar, darling,” Axe smirked, “Toughest in the galaxy.”

You ran your eyes up and down his figure before you met his eyes again. And the satisfied grin on his face told you that he knew exactly what you were thinking. But, before you could say anything, Axe lunged at you with more force and pinned you back against the wall.

All the breath was forced out of your lungs as your back slammed against the cold wall while Axe pinned himself against you. You were trapped, but the nerves that pulsed through your veins weren’t from fear. He had never been this close to you before, and your breath trembled as you felt his exhale on your skin.

Your eyes went wide as you found yourself helpless against his strong body. And before you could stop yourself, a soft whimper escaped your lips as his leg brushed against your core. But, it wasn’t until Axe’s gaze gleaned down to your lips for a brief moment that your world really felt like it was spinning. 

“Have I found your weakness, Axe Woves?” you asked breathlessly.

Axe’s grip on you softened as he breathed your name. His hand gently cradled your face as he slowly leaned in closer to you. But, just as he showed the brief moment of vulnerability, you turned the tables on him. You swung your leg around his and kicked the back of his knee, causing Axe to collapse.

In a flash, you pushed him down onto the ground and straddled his waist, “Got you,” you sounded so pleased with yourself.

“Well done, darling,” Axe grunted softly after getting the air knocked out of him, “You’re a quick learner.”

“I have a good teacher,” you replied with a wink of your own.

Axe couldn’t help the way his face lit up. But, as much as he liked the view of you on top of him, he wouldn’t admit defeat. Just as quickly as you moved, he grabbed you and flipped your bodies over so that he laid on top of you and had you pinned on the floor.

You yelped as your world flipped and you found yourself on your back with the Mandalorian on top of you. Heat rushed through your skin as he shifted his weight overtop of you and before you knew it, a soft moan escaped your lips.

“You look absolutely beautiful like this,” Axe murmured as he leaned forward, his lips hovering just over yours, “What do you think my weakness is?” he asked softly.

Caught up in a whirlwind, it took you a moment to reply, “A person who bats their eyes at you.”

He let out a heavy breath, “Not just any person…” 

“Axe…”

But, before anything could progress further, the sound of someone clearing their throat called both your attention.

“Koska,” Axe exclaimed as he pushed himself off of you, “I was just showing the lady a little self defense,” he explained as he extended a hand out for you, “And she did exceptionally,” he faced you with a wink as you took his hand. 

A soft smile lit up her face as she let out a short laugh, “Whatever you say,” Koska waved her hand, “You’re needed outside when you’re done,” she added before she left and gave you privacy again.

Axe looked disappointed as he helped you to your feet, “Duty calls, my lady,” he kissed the back of your hand, “Until next time then?”

You were left breathless, and you knew it wasn’t just from the sparring, “I look forward to it, Axe Woves.”

“As do I.”

*

“My lady,” the droid called from the doorway to your suite, “Axe Woves is here to see you.”

“Thank you, let him in,” you replied from the shadows deep into your suite.

The droid retreated and Axe walked past him, closing the door behind him. It was late into the evening, and the moonlight illuminated your room beautifully. But, he couldn’t quite see you from the entryway.

“You wanted to see me, my lady?” Axe asked as he stepped further into the room to look for you, “Is everything alright?” concern laced his voice as he found himself worried that something happened to you. 

“Everything’s fine, Axe,” you replied as you emerged from the shadows in the back of your suite, “I just wanted to see you,” your tone dropped as you crossed the room and came into full view. You were full of nerves, but you did your best to hide it and keep the air of confidence. 

Axe’s eyes went wide and his breath hitch in his throat as he took in the sight of you. “Well,” he exhaled, “What have we here?” his tone dropped as well as he closed the gap between you. He set his helmet down on a nearby table to free his hands. 

You were dressed in a silvery blue robe. Only in a silvery blue robe. A very sheer robe that Axe could see your entire figure in the moonlight. And it didn’t escape his notice that your robe matched his armor almost perfectly. 

“It’s just like you said,” you batted your eyes, “I wanted to see you,” your voice was hushed. 

“You look lovely,” he groaned softly as he rested his hands on your hips.

Your skin felt like it was on fire under his gaze. Maker, he was so handsome in the moonlight. Even as your hands trembled, you reached for his shoulders and slowly pulled him closer. “Axe…” you breathed as you pressed your chest against his beskar. The cool of the metal contrasted the warmth of your skin and goosebumps erupted all over you. 

A short laugh escaped his lips as his eyes ran up and down your figure, checking you out in a very unsubtle way, “I believe you are trying to seduce me, my lady,” his grip on your hips tightened before he ran his hands up and down your sides. 

You glanced at his lips before you looked back into his eyes, “I am,” your voice was just a whisper, “I know,” you paused as the facade slipped for a moment, “I know I’m not the first, but…”

“What makes you say that?” he cut you off with a sly smirk. Axe let go of you only for a moment so he could remove his gloves. And when he grabbed you by the chin, both of you felt that jolt of electricity as skin touched skin for the first time. 

You knew he knew what was on your mind, and you knew he just wanted to hear you say it. But, when Axe Woves looked at you like that, you were weak, “Because,” you paused, drawing it out for a few moments to tease him right back, “You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met,” you let out a shaky breath when he laughed softly, “ And I don’t care about anyone else… I want you tonight.”

Axe’s response came when he crashed his lips against yours. He swallowed the moan you let out as he dove his tongue past your lips, immediately deepening the kiss. You surrendered to him as you clung to his broad shoulders and let him guide you back so that you found yourself pinned against the wall. 

“Then you’ll have me,” he groaned softly against your lips, “My lady,” Axe’s voice dropped before he kissed you again. This time, his hands roamed all over your body, caressing every dip and curve as if he was trying to memorize you from touch alone. And the taste of you was already seared into his memory, and Axe found himself already addicted to you, “You taste so good, my lady.”

“Axe…”

“I’ve got you,” he groaned as he bucked his hips against your body. 

Slowly, Axe hooked his fingers on the edge of your robe. But, he paused and looked you in the eye before he moved any further. You breathed heavily, your chest rising and falling with each inhale and exhale. But, you knew what he was asking even without the words needed. You knew he still just waited for your permission before going any further. 

“Please,” you breathed, “I want you to.”

With a soft groan, Axe obliged and tugged gently at your robe until it opened, baring the skin of your chest to him. He let out a low growl as his eyes ran down to your chest, “Actually,” his voice was low as his eyes blew black with desire, “You look even more lovely like this.” 

You gasped as he cupped your breast and his thumb flicked your nipple. Your eyes fluttered shut as you slammed your head against the wall and arched your back into his hand. Axe groaned as he shifted his leg so that his thigh rubbed against your pussy and at the same time he grabbed your other breast with his free hand.

Maker, you looked so beautiful like this, moaning and sighing under his touch. Axe knew he was smitten with you from the moment he saw you. But to see you like this, writhing with pleasure under his touch, Axe knew it would be hard for him to leave you. 

“That’s a good girl,” he groaned as one of his hands trailed down the front of your body, “You feel so good already, my lady,” Axe hissed as he felt the warmth of your pussy under his palm.

The moan you let out echoed in the room as Axe pushed a finger inside you. Waves of pleasure ripped through your body just from his one finger as he crooked it inside you and instantly hit that sweet spot that drove you wild. “Fuck… Axe…” you cried out as you clung to him.

He growled your name as he slowly added a second finger inside you. For once, he had no words, and was lost in the beauty of you lost in pleasure. Your warmth engulfed him as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, his palm rubbing at your clit every time he fully buried them inside you. 

Your hands ran up Axe’s shoulders and buried in his hair. Every time his fingers reached your sweet spot, you gave his hair a soft tug, making him hiss in pleasure. His cock strained between your bodies as you rocked your hips in time with the thrusts of his hand.

“Cum for me, darling,” Axe groaned as he rested his forehead against yours, “Let me see how beautiful you look when you lose control.”

“Axe…” was all you could whimper before your climax hit. You blinked your eyes open for just a moment before your entire body trembled and you came apart under his expert touch. Your scream threatened to alert the droids outside before Axe covered your mouth with his own.

“That’s a good girl,” he murmured against your lips, “And as much as I want to hear those pretty screams… I don’t want any company right now,” Axe pulled you against him as he slowly pulled his fingers out of you, “I want you all to myself,” his growled before he kissed you again.

All you could do was moan as you surrendered yourself to Axe Woves. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders as you pushed yourself off the wall and turned your bodies around, “The bed is this way,” you whispered between kisses.

“I’m at your service, my lady,” Axe grinned against you as he let you take the lead.

The two of you barely separated as you led him deeper into your suite where the bed lay. Your robe flowed around you, framing your nude figure in the moonlight beautifully. Axe wanted to keep his eyes open, to memorize every inch of you, to not miss a moment of your beauty, but he also couldn’t help but close his eyes and just enjoy the feeling of you against him.

He barely even noticed when you reached your bed until you pushed him down onto his back. You quickly climbed on top of him, straddled his waist in nothing but your bare skin and the robe that only clung to your shoulders, outlining your body. 

“Got you,” you beamed at him with satisfaction. 

Axe let out a soft laugh as he caressed your hips, “It appears you do, my darling.” 

Your heart skipped a beat as he looked up at you. Axe looked so handsome against your silky sheets illuminated by the moonlight. Even through his armor, you could see the way his chest rose and fell with his heavy breaths. And underneath your bare cunt, you felt how hard he was; you let out a soft moan as you rocked yourself against him and you savored the hiss he let out as his back arched up towards you.

Axe whispered your name as you lifted yourself up and fumbled with his pants, desperate to free his cock. You paused and met his gaze, and when you did the universe seemed to freeze for a moment. Lost in the other's eyes, you both somehow knew that this was more than just a one night need for release. This was more than just flirting and teasing. There was more behind your eyes, behind your words, behind your actions.

But the need was too great to dwell on it right now. The moment you freed Axe’s cock, you let out a heavy breath as you stroked it a few times.

“Impressed, my lady?” Axe asked with a cocky smirk.

You mirrored his smile, “About as impressed as you are, I believe.”

“Touche,” he laughed for a moment before he gasped.

You lined yourself up with the tip of his cock and slowly started to sink down on it. Both of you moaned loudly as you took Axe inside you inch by inch. The stretch was more than you anticipated, but having cum once helped get you ready to take him. And the way Axe held you and looked up at you with pure adoration made your heart pound in your chest. 

“Fuck…” you huffed as your hips met Axe’s and you leaned forward, resting your hands on his chest. 

Axe took the moment to wrap his arms around you and pull you in for another heated kiss. He groaned against you when he felt you squeeze his cock. Between the feeling of your wet cunt around him and the taste of you on his tongue, something ignited within him. Axe used all his momentum and flipped your bodies over so that you laid out on your back, the robe framing your nude figure perfectly.

“Axe…”

He thrust into you once before he paused, “I lied,” he grunted as he thrust again, “Now you’ve never looked more lovely,” Axe’s breathy voice went right to your core.

“Fuck!” you cried out as you clung to his shoulders.

Axe wasted no time in pounding into you while murmuring soft praises in Mando’a in your ear. Your screams were music to his ears as he thrust into your wet pussy over and over again. Your hand found its way to the base of his scalp again and you tugged at his hair as you lost yourself in him. Tears filled your eyes as his cock filled you over and over again.

“Darling,” Axe murmured in a breathy voice. He held onto you as he thrust his hips against yours as if he was afraid of letting you go. 

“I know,” you whispered.

With a grunt, Axe bit your shoulder, making you moan loudly. Both of you clung to the other as sweat lined your bodies. As he felt his own climax quickly approach, Axe snaked a hand between your bodies and rubbed at your clit.

“Cum with me, darling,” he groaned, “Let me feel you cum on my cock.”

“Fuck… Axe…” You were too lost in your pleasure to form any other words. But he didn’t have to wait long and with just a few more thrusts of his cock, you came hard.

Your scream drowned out Axe’s growl as his orgasm hit right after yours. Tears filled your eyes and your legs shook, and you felt Axe spill himself inside you as his breathing became shaky against your skin. Together you rode out both your climaxes until you were both a trembling mess.

Axe collapsed down on top of you, his warmth radiating through the beskar as he held you tightly. You whimpered as you wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding him as close as you could as his cock softened inside of you. A shiver ran up your spine as you felt his release drip from your pussy.

He must have felt it too, because Axe pushed himself up with a strained grunt, “Hold on, darling,” his voice was soft as he slowly pulled out of you with a hiss. When you whined at the loss of him, he gave you a soft look and cupped your face, “I’ve got you,” he repeated his words in a softer tone.

Axe made quick work of using the top sheet to clean you up before he laid down next to you and gathered you back in his arms once more. You both laid together in the comfortable silence for some time, as if you both knew that the world waited for both of you beyond the door and you savored the time you had together while you could.

“Axe?” you broke the silence.

“Yes, love?”

“I know you can’t stay the night,” your voice shook, “But don’t leave yet. I don’t want to feel cheap if you left now.”

You heard him let out a single laugh as he squeezed you tighter, “We don’t want that now, do we, love?” he paused, “I’m not leaving you yet.”

You let out a relieved sigh as you closed your eyes and just let the feeling of Axe’s embrace warm you. A few moments went by before you spoke again, “Do you think our people could ever be allies?”

“We both want what’s best for our people, my lady,” he replied, “But I wouldn’t say it’s out of the range of possibility.”

Silence fell over both of you again as time moved on. This time, though, it was Axe who broke it, “You were right, you know.”

“About what?”

“You weren’t the first to seduce me.”

You furrowed your brows, “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because,” he took your hand and moved it over his chest where he covered your hand with his, “You are the first to do something else…” The look in his eyes made your heart flutter as you knew what he was trying to tell you. 

You let out a deep sigh as you shifted to meet his eyes, “Axe, I…”

“Wait,” he cut you off with a finger to your lips, “I know,” his gaze was sharp as his eyes bore into yours.

You knew why he didn’t want to say it. It wasn’t because he didn’t feel for you. You knew he did. You knew from his actions and the way he held you. Neither of you could stop the feelings that bloomed between you, but Axe could keep your heart safe if for some reason he never returned to you. 

“I should get back to my people,” Axe reluctantly got up and grabbed his gloves and helmet. You stayed on the bed, wrapping the rode around your body as you watched him. Your heart ached, but you knew this was how things had to be. He knew it too, and he paused and looked at you longingly for a moment before he leaned forward and kissed you deeply once more. Breathing your name against your lips, Axe whispered, “I…”

You smiled sadly, “I know.”

As much as he cared for and was loyal to his people, Axe still found it hard to leave you behind. Reaching down into his boot, he pulled out a small knife and handed it to you, “I’ll be back for this… my lady…” and for my heart.

“I’ll keep it safe,” you whispered as you held the small knife against your chest.

Axe pressed his forehead against yours and both of you closed your eyes and took in a deep breath, “I have to go,” he breathed before he forced himself away from you. 

“Be safe,” you called out to Axe’s retreating form.

“You too, my lady,” he turned over his shoulder before he walked out your door.

It was soon after that other Mandalorians arrived on your planet and Axe and the others left with him with the mission to retake their home planet. You only wished you had the chance to see him one more time before he left. All you were left with was his small dagger and a holo message he managed to send:

“My lady, I’m sorry to leave suddenly, but we aim to retake Mandalore and the time to move is now. I promise you though, the moment the planet is ours… the moment I’m able to return to you, I will. Until then, you have two things that belong to me, keep them safe. And I’ll tell you what I couldn’t say when I return.”

You sighed as you clutched Axe’s dagger to your chest.

*

“You miss him,” the Duchess said.

“What?!” you were brought back to the present by her voice jolting you from your thoughts.

“That handsome Mandalorian,” she clarified, “I can tell you liked him.”

“I…” you stuttered, trying to find your words, but none came to mind, “Yeah,” you finally admitted. 

“Don’t worry, my dear friend,” she placed a hand on your shoulder, “I have a feeling you’ll see him again.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw the way he looked at you,” he winked, “He’ll come back to you.”

As if on cue, fanfaire blared through the elegant room and a droid announced the arrival of a Mandalorian. You looked at the Dutchess and your face lit up as the two of you made your way to the front of the crowd to greet your guest. And your heart nearly exploded from your chest when you saw Axe Woves again.

He met your gaze and smile before he announced to the room, “Mandalore belongs to Mandaloirans once more!”

Cheers erupted in the room.

“And I am here to propose an alliance with Plazir-15.”

The Duchess stepped forward, “We would welcome that, Mandaloiran Axe Woves.”

He bowed to her before his gaze fell on you.

She glanced between you and him before he spoke elegantly, “I’ll leave my trusted right hand woman to talk details with you.” She gave you a sly smile and a wink. 

You felt a wave of embarrassment as she retreated back to the crowd, leaving you and Axe facing each other. You fiddled with your fingers for a moment before the emotions overwhelmed you and you launched yourself into his arms, “Axe,” you breathed as he wrapped his arms around you and held you tightly, “I was worried I’d never see you again.”

“I told you I’d come back to you once we had Mandalore,” he said in your ear, “And I have so much to tell you.”

“Well then,” you smirked, “Why don’t we go somewhere private then?”

His face lit up and he slid his hand in yours, “Lead the way… my lady.”

[penvisions]

of beskar and kyber {chapter 8}

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)

Summary: You're slowly getting back to a semblance of yourself after being given a life altering choice.

Word Count: 4.2k (it's a short one, apologies)

Warnings: WE GOT SHIRTLESS DIN Y'ALL, canon typical violence, canon typical fighting, trauma, ptsd, nightmares, illness, reader throws up, allusions to past SA (not detailed), gun violence

A/N: this was a rather hard chapter for me to crank out, i wasn't sure how much of reader's personality would immediately show after the events of the last chapter, but i think i managed to do a decent job that doesn't make it feel like it's a different character altogether. she will come out of her shell more throughout the next couple of chapters as she gets used to traveling with our dear mandalorian as an equal

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist

The clearing was silent as the sun made its rise into the sky, displaying an enticing view of warm pinks and deep oranges that bled into the soft blue of the still waning night sky. Your gaze was locked with the visor across from you, so far and yet still closer than anyone had dared to approach you, with an offer no one had dared to extend to you before. But it didn’t feel real, it felt like a ploy despite the fluttering in your stomach at learning the name of the man who you had spent so much time with.

“How do I know this isn’t a trick, Din Djarin?” You spoke with more control than you truly had, voice strong despite the waning tears that now stained your face and left your eyes tinged with a telltale pinkness of their occurrence. Mind working to calculate the situation playing out, an edge of clarity to your eyes now that the high emotions had all but rushed out of your lips in outraged pleas. A new facet of who you were, of how you survived for so long, taking it in and mentally checking it, much like you were doing with the man across from you.

“My name… I have not spoken it aloud since I was a boy. I have not shared it with anyone,” Din took a step toward you, your body instinctively took a step back despite the fluttering in your middle at the confession. It was a warm feeling akin to the heat thoughts of him blazed underneath your skin in the darkness of night, but far more innocent. At the part of him he was willing to give to you, even after you threatened to kill him. “I…. want to share it with you, to prove to you that I will not harm you and give you something in return that could harm me if it were to leave the two of us.”

This was all so new, different sides of the alluring mystery you both posed to each other.

“You saved my life twice, when you had no reason to.” His words were strong, though there was a caressing of emotion in them you had only been allowed to glimpse before. “You deserve the same, you deserve to be saved, given a choice.”

It was hard to believe him, believe the words, the offering he was extending to you. You were sure he could pinpoint the conflicting emotions as they passed over your face. Positive in your very soul that he could tell you had never been handed a choice before and were confused over, especially coming from someone initially hired to capture you.

“It was the right thing to do.”

“As is this.”

“You- you want me to travel with you?”

“Yes, I would be honored to have you aboard the ship.” His tone was solid, with no hint of hesitancy or fraud in his words as they sounded in the air. “You are a strong fighter, a survivor.”

“Free?”

“You are free, I will do my best to ensure it until you wish to part ways.”

“What…what if I do something you don’t like or speak out of place?” The words you wanted to say died in your throat to allow for those ones to come to life. The confession of wanting to remain with him until he no longer wanted you around nearly slipping from your lips as the conversation continued. Because that’s what it was, a conversation. You weren’t being talked at or down to, he was talking to you, with you. He had begun to do so the second you had boarded his ship, even knowing the dynamic that he had initiated by taking you from that compound.

“I will not raise a hand to you, I’ve promised you that already.”

“I’m annoying, I say things under my breath, I-I-I…I’m selfish.”

“Then we can be so together.” A deep chuckle decorated the air of the clearing, making your heart stutter for a reason other than fear and anxiety for the several times since he entered your life. The sound was beautiful, and your selfish tendencies were already returning to you. You wanted more of it, of that sound, of being able to draw that sound out of him.

“Y-yes.”

He closed the distance of the clearing and came up toward you with his hands at his sides as he approached, the rising sun catching his amor in a mesmerizing way. He walked past your still form toward the wall of trees surrounding the space, retrieving the heavy pack he knew you had hidden in the brush. He hauled it onto his shoulder, his cloak billowing more with the weight resting along the upper part of it along his back. “Let’s get everything back on board before some food. Then we can rest after traveling all night.”

You felt a shy smile come over your lips, liking the sound of ‘we’ after being alone for so long. You reached for one of the trunks and hauled it up, following his lead back toward the ship. His steps faltered as he looked over his shoulder and saw the expression. You quietly asked him if he was alright, getting a nod from the man in response.

The hammock from your new pack was secured to the walls of the ship, off in the corner opposite of Din’s small personal quarters, near the wall that made up the back entrance to the ship. Your bag was atop it, heavier now with the other items you had purchased while in town with the villagers just yesterday. A time that felt so long ago, when you were worried about having to bide your time and make a run for it, run away from the man you could feel crossing the space of the hold toward you.

You jumped clean off the floor of the hold when a crate was set down with a loud thunk and you spun on your heels to face the sound. He was rather close as was the sound and your hand was tight around the handle of your saber, instinctually reaching for it. It should alarm you how used you were to his presence that it didn’t register how little distance was between the both of you, but you pushed that thought down to inspect at a later time.

You turned in time to see him using his right leg to scoot in neatly underneath the space below the hammock. There was enough room beneath it and the top of the storage to accommodate the weight of your body while resting.

“For you, for your…things.”

You nodded at him, aware of the weight of his visor taking in the small space you had claimed for yourself. Worry flared for a moment, worry that you had chosen a bad spot or infringed on his space in a way he hadn’t anticipated. It all tapered out of you in a shaky exhale, hands letting go of your weapon as you realized you had clenched your hand tight around it, your knuckles creaking with the effort and your fleeting, overwhelming emotion. Turning back around, you began to unload the pack into the open space of the crate with a small ‘thank you’.

“There…is a small cabin behind the flight room.” He reached out and his gloved hand gently turned you around, so you were facing him fully. You let him do so, your heart hammering in your chest at the casual contact, at his words. “We can make it your own space, more privacy than here in the hold.”

“I don’t want to intrude-“

“You wouldn’t, yours if you want it.”

Your body betrayed you at his words, at the phrasing. You felt your skin tingle as a whoosh of desire flared hot in your middle and your mind decided to recall the feel of his bare hands. You ducked your head, unable to keep a somewhat shared look with him as you pulled slowly from his light grip on your arm.  His hand lingered, brushing down the side of your arm to blossom comfort with his touch, as if he was aware of the waring emotions you were experiencing.

“I’ll…think about it.”

He leaned in close, helmet coming to rest on your forehead in another comforting action. Fingers reached out to wrap around his elbows before you realized you were even moving, reaching.

“I asked you to stay, mesh’la. Please don’t feel like you’re unwanted here.”

Lifting your eyes to gaze into the visor, you felt a shudder of something faint make its way down your spine. You were sure the man could feel the way your body reacted to it, this close to you. You could only nod in response to his words, your own too jumbled in your chest to voice.

With a slow nod in return, he was back over on the other side of the space, taking a seat at the makeshift table. The Child was atop it, exploring the food packages around him with excited gurgles. You felt a soft smile pull at your lips as you watched him, so excited with such a simple thing.

“The village packed us a lot of food, you’re welcome to any of it.”

“Oh, um, I…ate in town.” You shuffled on your feet, turning back to the small corner and began to unpack the items you had purchased in the village. “I wasn’t sure when I would get to eat next.”

It was quiet for a few heartbeats, the man focused on opening some of the wrapped bundles.

“You were going to run, even if that transmission hadn’t come through.” He wasn’t asking for confirmation, he was stating it as if he had been privy to the way your mind had been running, like it was second nature for him to know about the things that had occurred in your mind and influenced your actions. Maybe it was, to an extent. Having traveled with him for some time now.

“Yes.”

“I was going to leave a note.” You admitted, eyes falling closed as you gathered yourself. You didn’t reach for anything as you sat atop the other makeshift seat of a crate. Hands in your lap as you spoke, eyes still trained on the Child and his many noises.

Your lips quirked up when his small form turned to you with an outstretched hand. He was clutching a kebob in his little claw, cooked krill pieces skewered onto it. When you reached a hand out to take it, he fussed, shaking his head with a grumble. A soft laugh bubbled up as you opened your mouth and leaned closer to him. That seemed to be what he wanted, and he giggled freely as he watched you tear the topmost piece away with your teeth and began to chew it. Bringing a hand up to cover your mouth, you exaggerated a nod at him to let him know you liked the taste.

He turned his attention to Din and held his hand out once again.

A shake of the helmet made him frown, a little angry grunt sounding from his chest. He mimicked Din, shaking his head and then brandishing the kebob at him in a wave. He bumped it against the front of the helmet, right where Din’s mouth would be. And again, and again. It was making the only noise in the ship other than the odd beeping sound or so that signaled things were up and running.

With a deep sigh, one of Din’s hands came up and pressed something just underneath the front of the helmet, where it settled over his chin. The hiss of the helmet decompressing startled you and your heart thudded in your chest as froze in place across the makeshift table. Surely he wouldn’t just expose himself so casually…? The Creed of the Mandalorians forbade the removal of the helmet, and while that wasn’t the case for all of them, it was a rather important factor in the practice that Din took part in, that he was raised in. The hint of a strong jaw covered in dark scruff was visible as he quickly leaned forward and took a bite from the offered stick.

Just as quickly as the helmet had been lifted ever so slightly, it was set back in place.

The Child’s happy giggles echoed off the walls. He turned back to you with a large, toothy smile. Willing your heart to calm down, you returned the smile with a soft one of your own.

A shout ripped from your throat, and you were thrashing around as your mind was ripped from its stream of unconsciousness. Heart thudding painfully in your chest, panting with the effort to catch your breath, you sat up from the hammock, swinging your legs over the side of it. It was swinging with your harsh movements, the supports of it groaning with the actions. The door to the personal quarters across the hold slid open and Din’s form filled the doorway, a blaster in his hand.

You were shaking, body humming with adrenaline as your mind had decided to replay a rather harsh memory from your captivity. The roaring in your ears prevented you from hearing Din cross the space, moving toward you in nothing but his helmet and a pair of sleep pants. His gentle hands on your knees startled you and you kicked out at him, sending him stumbling back onto his backside and palms to catch himself.

“It’s me, mesh’la.”

You shook your head, bringing your hands up to cover your ears. Your throat constricted and the words you were trying to say warbled out incoherently.

“What do you need?” Din’s voice was dulled, as if you were hearing things through a tunnel. Your vision was blurry as you opened your eyes, blinking away the remnants of the nightmare. It was then that you realized you were crying, tears spilling over your lash line to race down your cheeks. They dripped off the end of your chin, splattering to the floor.

“W-water.” You managed to choke out, your skin feeling so caked in filth and the phantom touches from the men who had held you captive. Poor choice of words, you mused as Din moved to gather a pouch of water from atop the makeshift table. You were shaking your head as he turned back around with it in his hands. He could see the way your muscles twitched even from the short distance, your body reacting strongly to whatever your mind had decided to conjure up during your sleep.

“I need to clean. I feel- I feel their hands all over me.” You were pushing up from the hammock, holding a hand to your mouth as nausea roiled hot in your middle. Rushing across the hold toward to fresher, the door hissed shut just as Din caught sight of you crumpling to the floor in front of the toilet basin and heaving the contents of your stomach.

The sound of the shower running had Din standing in front of the door to the fresher with a change of clothes for you in his hands. He had gathered one of his shirts, recalling the way you had held the first one up to inhale his scent back on Sorgan. A small comfort he could offer you when words failed him, as they so often did, but especially in the wake of what just happened. The knock that sounded from his bare knuckles had you jumping underneath the spray of hot water raining down on your body.

Pausing in your frantic scrubbing, your head shot up and focused on the door through the frosted glass of the shower stall.

“Got you a change of clothes.” Din’s voice sounded muffled through the metal of his helmet and the shut door to the small room. “I can set the helmet to another setting and place them on the sink for you.”

“Th-thank you.” Hopefully he understood with your minimal response that what he was saying was alright with you. He seemed to understand, because the door hushed open, and his broad form filled the space of the room. You watched through the glass paneling as he placed a bundle of dark clothing down atop the sink. His helmet never turned toward you despite knowing he could feel the weight of your own gaze upon him. He left as swiftly as he had appeared, allowing you to finish your shower in privacy.

When you emerged from the fresher with damp hair and a new outfit that consisted of a baggy shirt and pants, the hold was empty. There was a single light left on the wall that held the ramp settled into while it wasn’t activated, illuminating the space in soft light. Your eyes landed on a steaming cup of something left on the table, watching the wafts of heat climb into the air. Smiling to yourself, you moved to take a seat and reached to cradle the hot ceramic in your hands.

You were nestled back in the hammock after finishing the warm broth, the liquid helping to sooth your settling stomach. Despite the comfort of an added blanket and the relaxing residual warmth from your shower, you couldn’t help but wring your hands where they rested atop your middle. Din had checked on the ship’s course before returning to his own space. The hush of his door nearly shutting closed the space off and left a weighted silence in its wake.

Settling down further into the blankets, a muffled sob made its way through your body, and you quickly clamped a hand down over your mouth to stifle it. Eyes darting to the small sliver of space that Din had left his door open to see if it traveled across the space toward him. Nothing akin to fear or worry or the instinct to run washed over you as a bulb lit up and his hand bare hand suddenly appeared and was shoving the door open with swift motions. He was across the space in a few long strides, the fabric of his sleep pants swishing around his legs with the speedy, tempered movement.

As soon as he was close enough, he was leaning over to place his hands underneath the curve of your knees and along your upper back, your hands going up around his neck as if they were made just for that. The blanket fell away from you as he lifted you into his arms, turning away from the set up you had made for yourself.

He carried you across the space back toward the door and it shut behind him as he settled you both into the small bed atop the cot that took up a majority of the space. His body was a warm line beside you, your arms loosening from around his neck to fill the space between your bodies atop the mattress. His hands busy pulling the discarded blanket up around you both, letting it settle around your hips.

Eyes trained on him across from you, breath labored as you took in the bare expanse of his chest. Nearly all of his bronze skin was on display in the dull light that probably needed replacing. Fingers twitching in an effort to not cross the space and run them over the temptation that was so close. You pulled your bottom lip between your teeth, eyes closing to shield yourself from the want. As he spoke lowly to you, the rumbling timber of his voice caressed over you in a muffled sound.

When you opened your eyes back up from a long blink, the confusion in them let him know you had no clue as to what he had just said. His chest expanded as he took a deep breath and deflated as he let it out in a sigh.

“San,” The sound of your name had you focusing on the visor of the helmet looking down at you as he sat partially up on his elbow. His other arm reached out for you, hand encompassing your cheek as he repeated his soft-spoken words. You leaned into his touch, something you couldn’t find it in yourself to be ashamed of or embarrassed about at the moment. It just was, it was right, there was no thinking about it. “Do you want me to turn the light out?”

You reached out tentatively, fingers still twitching with the effort it was taking to restrain yourself from lunging at the man and wrapped your arms around the broad expanse of his bare chest. Fingers digging into his shoulders as you clung to him. Nodding in an answer to his careful question as you buried your head into the crook of his neck. His body moved around and underneath you to turn the light out, shrouding you both in darkness.

The helmet hushed against the fabric of his pillow as he laid down completely beside you. His strong arms came around you and pulled you flush against him, his legs tangling with your own beneath the blanket. Eyes already fluttering shut, you let out long exhale that faltered near the end. You were feeling completely at ease in the wake of that horrible nightmare, safe in this enclosed space, wrapped up in his arms, surrounded by the scent you associated with him.

The feeling of his even, steady pulse humming through his skin where your face was pressed into his neck lulled you into a peaceful sleep.

“I’ve got you.”  

The next morning, or what you assumed was the morning, due to time being hard to keep track during long space travel. It was something you weren’t sure you would ever get a handle on, not having much experience with longer space travel with the focus of seeking out hideaways. The ship had just dropped out of hyperspace, Din having set a random location in order to rest for the night with less threats. He was currently in the cockpit and you quelled the minor nerves at seeking him out after the breakfast you had made an effort to down alongside the Child.

You were cradling him on a hip as you climbed the ladder leading to the partial upper floor, his happy babbling announcing your arrival to the armored man before you physically entered the room. Setting him down in the chair to the right of the door, you turned your attention to the front of the room.

“I chose Tatooine, a few years ago.” Your voice was quiet, nearly a whisper as you walked up behind the pilot’s chair. Eyes trained on the hologram display of nearby planets. “My hideout should still be intact if the sands haven’t swallowed it. I had just installed new moisture farming equipment before…”

Tatooine looked much the same way as it did all those years ago when you picked it out of all the options you had assembled for a good hideout. Washed out and pale as you gazed at the display of the planet before you.

“That’s where….I thought we were when you took me from that compound.”

“Its an easy mistake to make, both are mostly open desert.” He was watching you as you flipped through the rest of the planets displayed as possible locations for the ship to land next, though he had already programmed it for Tatooine. The ships settings displaying as much when you checked the flight path. You could feel the weight of his visor on you as you boldly did so, not having asked to enter the control room let alone mess with the things he was organizing. You turned to face him with a deadpan look, punctuated by a single raised brow and mouth tight in a firm line.

“A fool’s mistake.”

“You’re not a fool, those kriffng bandits were.”

“Landscape here is more limestone, red rock more prominent on Arvala-7.” You gestured to the display with a wave of your hand.

Any other conversation to be had was put on hold the second a warning alarm trilled from the control panel. It was only a second’s notice before blaster shots landed on the starboard side of the ship. Your legs tensed as you tried to keep your balance through the turbulence, hands going out to grip onto anything within reach. It happened to be the armrest of the pilot’s chair. Your head swiveled around to see the Child’s frantic look, eyes wide and sounds of upset falling from him in a steady stream.

“Dank ferrick, we got someone on our tail. Sit down and buckle up, mesh’la.”

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[illuminatedquill]

Sabine Wren and Ezra Bridger:

Star Scar-Crossed Lovers

They don't know how much they'll miss At least until you're gone like this Talking to the mirror, say, "Save your breath Half your life, you've been hooked on death" Twice the dreams, but half the love Be careful what you bottle up The chemistry is a mess, it seems But me, I'm still a sunbeam I will never ask you for anything Except to dream sweet of me I will never ask you for anything Except to dream sweet of me Tell me, when the party ends Will you still love who I am, I am? - Fall Out Boy, Heaven, Iowa

Here's the thing - Ezra's disappearance and subsequent absence from Sabine's life was always going to hurt her in a way that no one else's did.

All because Ezra was kind. That's the horrible, tragic irony of it all that keeps me up at night. Sabine has lost so many loved ones throughout her life: ran from her own family; her fellow Mandalorian and friend Ketsu Onyo left her for dead; Kanan died to allow her, Hera, and Ezra to escape Imperial forces; and, later on, her master, Ahsoka Tano left her shortly after the Purge of Mandalore.

It's arguable that even Hera and Zeb presumably became estranged from her at some point during or after the events of the Original Trilogy. The Ghost Crew split up. Sabine is alone on Lothal and clearly is not accustomed to visitors when we see her in the Ahsoka premiere.

Sabine, as we know, is accustomed to this. She has developed a method of "moving on" and forging a new path ahead. She internalizes the pain, for better and worse, and keeps moving.

It's served her fairly well.

But not with Ezra. He does the one thing none of those others did: he leaves a message, just for her, shortly before his disappearance with Thrawn into another galaxy.

With that message, that act of unconditional love and kindness, it leaves an indelible scar on Sabine's heart.

With the others who left or died or she ran away from, she could ignore the pain. Sabine could justify it for being due to one reason or another.

Ezra's message does away with that defense. Slips past through her hardened exterior and nestles deep within her heart.

Because he's kind. Because he's Ezra and he didn't want to leave his friend without saying good-bye and wanted to give her some sense of closure.

"Sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof that you've been ruined." - Ocean Vuong, On Earth We're Briefly Gorgeous

She doesn't close the door on Ezra. But she can't cross through it either. For the next ten years, Sabine becomes stagnant, keeping that fire of hope burning for her lost friend but unable to act on it.

And she plays that message every day, probably.

Plays it again.

And again.

And again.

She dreams of that recording; has Ezra's statement memorized to where she mouths along the words with him and can even copy his mannerisms. Sabine takes to heart every little one of his movements and how shy and awkward he looks when he says she's "like a sister" to him.

(And she scoffs. Every single time. But doesn't quite know why that line irritates her.)

The tragedy is that Ezra's message was meant to reassure Sabine and let her move on . . . only to do the exact opposite.

It becomes a burden to bear - one that she does so willingly and with all the ferocity and determination she can muster. But, still a burden it is, despite Ezra's good intentions.

Sabine eventually does the unthinkable - she takes on the mantle of a Jedi.

Think about it. Never, in the entirety of Rebels, had she ever shown an inkling of being interested in following the Jedi path.

Why now? What's changed?

It's simple. Ezra's gone.

Maybe it's a desire to get closer with him but, equally likely, Sabine sees it as a potential avenue to find him someday. She's seen it's power and the abilities it produces in those who are able to wield it.

But even that path forward to Ezra fails. Her people - and her family - are purged by the Empire and Ahsoka cuts her Jedi training short out of fear for Sabine becoming dangerous should she reach her full potential after such a tremendous loss.

More years pass, but the fire never dies. But Sabine cannot do anything. She stays locked in Ezra's watchtower, seeing the galaxy return to life but not feeling any of it for herself.

And then, eventually, Ahsoka returns with the map to Thrawn.

We know the rest.

The planet of Seatos. The map. Ahsoka's fall.

Sabine's choice. The only choice. The grand calculus of the universe demands that she place duty over love; that she throw away Thrawn's one chance of returning to finish what he started.

And, in doing so, doom Ezra to die far, far away from home.

And Sabine makes her choice. Gambles the fate of her galaxy, the hard won peace that so many had fought and died for - all for love.

The Ahsoka finale seems to find Sabine and Ahsoka making peace over her choice. Yes, Thrawn has returned to the galaxy - but so has Ezra, thus fulfilling Sabine's promise to herself of getting him home.

Ahsoka reassures her that the Force has plans in motion - that although they are stranded in another galaxy, they are meant to be here. Just like Ezra is meant to be back home.

Trust in the Force. Sabine and Ezra will find their way back to each other, no matter what.

. . . But there's always consequences to a decision. Always.

I don't believe that Sabine sacrificing her desire to be with Ezra after being kept apart for so long is the true cost of what she did. I don't think that's her real trial.

I think the real reckoning is yet to come.

Because Ezra never found out how she came to find him.

Sabine could not bring herself to tell him. Because she is, appropriately, scared of how he will react. She does not want to lose him again.

(The weight of that will break the galaxy.)

Helping Thrawn return is not only a betrayal of everything Ezra and others had sacrificed for but it places Lothal, Hera, Jacen, Zeb, and countless other beings in extreme danger.

In making her deal with Baylan to find Thrawn, Sabine may end up losing him again in a way more permanent than being trapped in a distant galaxy.

Sabine got him back after so long . . . only for her choice to cause an irreparable rift in their relationship.

The loss of Ezra's love, trust, and respect for Sabine is something I cannot fathom how she would handle. She saved him, only to lose him because of it.

And to think from it on Ezra's side - that he doesn't know how his message came to define Sabine's life these past ten years. He's Force-sensitive and, more importantly, knows Sabine better than most people; he knows she's hiding something from him.

But I don't think he could guess it was something like helping Thrawn. He wouldn't even consider it being in character for her, let alone especially for someone who is training to be a Jedi.

Ezra would never, for a single second, consider that Sabine is a traitor. It's unthinkable for him. It's probably why he never questioned Sabine further after she showed up on Peridea with little explanation.

For what reason would she risk the galaxy? To throw everything into the hands of the galaxy's most feared and cunning Imperial warlord?

And when he finds out it was all for him . . . . my heart breaks for Ezra.

The scar of Sabine's choice would mark him long enough for several lifetimes.

How do you fix something like that? How do you come back from a betrayal that burns everything you've ever sacrificed for, everything you've ever stood for?

How do you face the person you trusted to safeguard all of that, only to find out that they're the one who lit the flame?

How do you reconcile that they did all these terrible things for you?

(Ask Vader how well that turned out for him.)

It's Sabine. It's Ezra.

And the scars they've given each other . . . all for love.

If Filoni is brave enough, then this could be the most interesting relationship in all of Star Wars.

[daimyosprincess]

PART I: FOREWORD

—PAIRING: Professor!Boba Fett x F!Librarian!Reader

—SERIES RATING: Explicit, 18+ only — MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

—SUMMARY: When the new Mandalorian studies professor Boba Fett comes into the university library looking for help, you’re more than happy to be of assistance.

—WORD COUNT: 6.4k

—TAGS & WARNINGS: second person narration, no use of y/n, references to sexual themes, alternate universe, professor!Boba, age gap relationship between an older man and younger woman (reader is mid-twenties and Boba is late forties), bisexual reader, reader described as having hair, alcohol consumption by reader and others, GRATUITOUS flirting (like a ridiculous amount), use of pet names

—AUTHOR'S NOTES: Here it is, my first ever posted fic! I'm so excited to share this with y'all, it's been so much fun to write. Thank you for all your support for this series. Enjoy the Boba brainrot with me :)

Read on AO3 — Series Masterlist — Taglist

Part II>

The university library is dead—classes aren’t in session and things are slow. The afternoon summer sun streams through the building’s tall windows, illuminating the dust motes that dance in the golden light. The faint rustle of papers turning is the only sound filling the idle air other than you and your coworker’s chatting at the circulation desk. 

“No, I’m telling you there’s no good guys to date here. They’re all either emotionally unavailable or terrible in bed… or both,” your friend Selena gripes. She’s exasperated by the most recent of her flings ghosting her after their last hookup. 

Swirling your iced coffee, you roll your eyes. “Well maybe you need to expand your dating pool, there’s more out there than just twenty-something guys who spend all their time in the gym.” You grin knowingly at your friend—she definitely has a type.

She throws an elbow at you. “Hey! Not all of us are into girls and men old enough to be our dads! Speaking of which…” she cuts off, wiggling her perfect eyebrows at you.

“Excuse me,” a deep voice calls from behind your back, “is there a librarian I can speak to about reserving my course materials?” The voice’s vowels lilt and come together like sand being molded by an ocean wave, powerful yet graceful—it’s a voice that could warm you in sunny, shallow waters or drown you in a raging storm.

All but choking on your coffee, you spin to face the front desk. Standing on the other side of the counter is the most handsome man you think you’ve ever seen: copper skin, white teeth, and dark eyes stand atop a crisp linen shirt rolled up to reveal thick, strong forearms. Pale, silvered scars crisscross his skin, glinting in the light, making him look equally dangerous and enticing, like a trap baited with everything you’ve ever wanted.

Shit, he could get me in a lot of trouble… and I’d let him. You clear your throat, doing your best to recover with at least some of your dignity intact—a difficult task when the absolute god of a man before you just heard that you’re definitely into men his age. 

Selena, however, beats you to an answer. “Yes, sir, that would be my coworker here,” she answers in a sing-song voice, “she’s more than happy to help you with anything you need.” You shoot her a dirty look as she flounces away back to her desk in the back, her attitude completely unapologetic.

Being the flirt you are, you did fully intend to hit on this handsome professor, but that’s not the point. Rallying your thoughts, you flash him a dazzling smile. “Yes, I certainly am,” you confirm. “What can I do for you, professor…?” Your voice trails off in anticipation of his response, and you catch the dark gleam in his coffee-colored eyes. 

“Fett, Boba Fett. Professor of Mandalorian studies,” he answers smoothly, his rich timbre confident and unphased by you and Selena’s antics.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, professor,” you respond, matching his blithe tone. You introduce yourself with your name and title as the research materials librarian.

He smirks, flicking his eyes over your frame in a casual, yet interested, way. “I assure you, the pleasure is all mine.” When his eyes meet yours again, they flicker with amber fire, bright and tempting.

You let his compliment hang in the sunlit air between you for a moment, gauging whether he too felt the electric connection buzzing between you two. Judging by the glint in his eye and quirk of his lips, he did.

Game on. “Well, usually faculty submit their materials for purchase and reservation at the end of the previous school year or at the beginning of the summer session,” you inform him with an overly patronizing tone. “But I suppose I can make an exception for you since you’re being so polite.” You end your statement with a wink, inviting him in to test the waters.  

Taking your hint, he leans his muscled arms on the high lip of the desk, bringing himself closer into your space. “You’re too kind. Things have been a little difficult since I’m new to the school and wasn’t in the country until last week… and I’d really appreciate your help, princess.” The pet name rolls off his tongue like spiced honey, hot and sweet.

  Your brows arch up and you run your tongue over teeth behind your lips as you consider the handsome professor. Most men you meet are either too intimidated or too stupid to give you a fair fight, but this Boba Fett… he might just be the one. Without saying much, he’s said it all: true power doesn’t need to be defended because it speaks for itself. His innate confidence makes your stomach tighten and your blood run hot—this is going to be even more fun than you first thought. “Why don’t you come into my office and I can see what all I can do for you, Professor Fett,” you offer with a flirty smile.

“Please,” he entreats with a saccharine smile, “call me Boba.”

Leaning against your doorframe, Boba shoulders his leather satchel, his broad shoulders rippling under the material of his shirt. The muscles in his arms carve out valleys in his marked skin, making your mind race with the thought of how those arms would feel around you, lifting you up, or pinning you down beneath him. The way he totally fills up the space around him is enough to send heat between your legs, and the snatches of fantasy only heighten the desire simmering in your core. You’ve done everything you can to help the professor at the moment, but neither of you seem too keen on parting just yet, much to your satisfaction. 

“So how old are you, then?” he asks, eyeing you tilted back in your chair below him.

You’d teased him about his thesis date being long before your birth while you chatted as you submitted his materials requests. “Why, professor,” you taunt, looking up at him from heavy-lidded eyes, “are you trying to make sure I’m at least eighteen?”

He answers with a devil’s grin. “No, just trying to see whether or not I’m old enough to be your father.”

Yep, he definitely heard that earlier, you groan internally as heat pricks up your neck. Not one to be beaten so easily, however, you lazily trail your eyes down to his left hand braced on your door, a smirk splitting your face when you don’t find a ring. “As long as you’re single, I’m twenty-six.”

“And if I’m not?” he counters, cocking his head in pointed curiosity.

You pray to whoever might be listening that he is because you might not survive temptation much longer, not with the way he’s looking at you like you’re the sweetest dessert he’s ever seen. “Well then, I’d be twenty-six and disappointed.” 

He snorts, shaking his head with a deliciously low chuckle. “You really are something, aren’t you, little one?”

Your stomach flips at his continued use of the sweet names, but you swallow it down. Boba Fett is a test you intend on passing and that means you have to keep your wits about you.  “I have been told I can be quite the handful. Hope that's not a problem… don’t think it would be for you, though,” you reply, looking him up and down meaningfully and letting your eyes linger on the fabric stretched tight over his biceps. He’s built like a kriffing brick wall, thick and solid, and you want to climb him to the very top. 

The sultry look he gives you makes you think he’d let you, too. “After forty-seven years, princess, I don't think it would be.”

That same hum of charged energy of your initial meeting fills your office as your gaze falls into line with the intense depth of his own. You were wrong before, he’s not looking at you like you’re dessert. You’re prey, soft and open, and he’s the predator tracking you deeper and deeper in the forest, far away so no one would hear your shriek when sunk his teeth into your flesh. 

But did prey ever want to be torn apart by its hunter? You roll your lips together, squeezing your thighs against the embers of desire flickering to life between them. 

A few moments later, your computer chirps with an email notification and you blink back to reality, the tension fizzling out into the surrounding air. Probably for the best since I’m about ten seconds away from jumping this man's bones in my office. Straightening up in your seat, you clear your throat. “Same time tomorrow, then, professor?”

“If it’s not a problem,” he shrugs, his heated gaze betraying his nonchalance, “I know you’re a busy girl.”

He’s clearly enjoying calling you everything but your name and you, much to your surprise, are lapping it up. In an attempt to even the score, you push up from your chair, snatching up one of your business cards from your desk and scribbling your cell number on the back. Sauntering over to him stretched out in your door, you stop just a little closer than absolutely necessary. You slip the piece of paper into his front pocket, pleased with the way the muscle in his jaw twinges at the contact. “Oh, no, it’s no problem at all,” you practically purr, “At the university, we want to make sure our new faculty enjoy everything the library has to offer.” 

He huffs in amusement, not moving away. “Your efforts should be rewarded, then,” he notes, his voice like rich molasses, “You’ve been nothing but eager.”

Before you can stop the impish impulse, you rattle off your usual coffee order. The worst he can say is no, but something tells you he’s willing to indulge you just a bit more than most would.

He tilts his head to the side, his lips twitching into a smile in understanding a second later. “Size?”

“As much as you’re willing to give me,” you wink, flipping your pen between your fingers under your chin. You’d like to think he’d indulge you in that too, but you don’t want to get ahead of yourself.

“Don’t worry,” he assures, his voice like bittersweet woodsmoke, “I’ll make sure you get everything you deserve.” The promises laced through his words like invisible threads, weaving together images of love-bruised skin and rough hands pressed into soft flesh.  

You swallow thickly, and almost groan in embarrassment when his eyes track the bob of your throat with a smug look. “You could get a man into trouble, little one. A lot of trouble…” 

He shoves off the doorframe, his face swaying dangerously close to yours as he turns to leave. “See you tomorrow, princess.” He says the words like a promise rather than a casual expression.

“Oh, professor?” you call out after him. You can’t let this man come out of your office thinking he’s won your little game, your pride simply won’t allow it—and neither will the lurid desire bubbling up from somewhere deep within you. You want to push him, needle him until he snaps, poke the bear until he takes a swipe. Not very smart for someone who’s definitely the prey.

He turns to face you as if he had been hoping you’d stop him. “Yes?”

“You should know,” you bait, letting your eyes flicker down to his lips and back up in wicked pleasure, “I like trouble.”

Every day since your electrifying meeting has been an excuse to see him: hand delivering something that could have been interofficed, calling his office phone and inviting him to look over some course book in person, or volunteering to give him a tour of campus that happened to include lunch together. Boba’s like a burning sun and you’ve been ensnared in his orbit, your every phase and season given life by his heat.

When you couldn’t find an excuse to be around him, he found one; he came to make copies in the library because his department’s machine “never seems to work right,” the coffee shop gave him an extra pastry he “couldn’t possibly eat,” or the darn databases wouldn’t let him log in and you’re the “only one who can get them to work.” Even when your extensive partnership gathering his course materials came to an end, Boba was quick to offer you a spot in his office to work while last minute construction went on in the library before the start of the fall semester.

Boba’s office is tucked away at the end of a long hall in the gothic-style humanities building and quickly becomes your own personal sanctuary for the remainder of the summer. Its soaring ceiling and long, arched window gave a sense of lightness to the corner space, the natural light reflecting off the pale walls. Brass lamps with warm, golden light keep the room cozy when clouds roll in, along with the sumptuous oriental rug spread over the stone floor. Boba’s furniture is functional and comfortable; a large, sorrel leather couch sits perpendicular against the wall from his sturdy oak desk, accompanied by matching armchairs facing him for visitors. The walls are lined with bookshelves and cabinets housing his impressive personal library and mementos from his illustrious life.

It’s in this ivory tower oasis that your heart begins to grow into a softer shape and your mind settles into the rough-hewn grooves of the professor’s tides. The power of him both rouses and relieves, stirs and soothes; the shards of you are made into soft seaglass by the roll and drag of his waves against the sand. And oh, how you’re tempted to let him pull you under the glassy surface, to submit and let his current tow you to blissful paradise. You yearn to provoke his storms as well as seek his shelter from the harsh creatures of everyday life—you’re sure he’s going to be the end of you.

The week before classes start you’re slouched comfortably across the couch in his office. Sunlight dapples the room in a saffron glow through the forked leaves of ivy hugging the window as you’re half-heartedly responding to the numerous last minute item requests from harried professors. While most of them are smart enough to be polite, quite a few have decided to be rude, pain in the asses instead. 

You grumble loudly, throwing your head back against the cushion behind you. Your frustration is not helped by the fact Boba is extra good looking today, his white shirt is practically glowing against his sun-kissed skin and open a button lower than usual for the breezy weather—not that you noticed those kinds of things about him. Just like you definitely weren’t aching for his attention that’s currently wrapped up in class prep.

“Why do all these professors expect me to drop everything to attend to their specific requests like I have nothing better to do?” you huff, massaging your temples with your fingertips. “I do have an actual job besides course reserves.”

Looking over a pair of reading glasses, Boba leans back in his chair, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Must have seen you doing it for me, princess.”

You blow out a dismissive sound and roll your eyes. “Yeah, well, you’re different.” Snapping your laptop closed, you manage to keep the pleased smile from turning up your lips. You have Boba’s attention now, just like you really wanted.

“Mmm, different how?” he hums, his intense gaze now trained on your face.

The heat of his assured, teasing confidence makes your guts churn. While your mutual physical attraction to one another is surely evident to both of you, you’ve been doing your best to hide the fact that he holds your heart in his hands too. No use ruining the good thing you have going with the handsome professor by admitting you have an honest-to-god crush with feelings.

Rolling over on your side so you can prop your head up on your hand, you find Boba entirely too smug for your liking. Putting on your most innocent face, you blink up at him with wide doe eyes. “Oh, you know me, professor, always happy to help you older folks figure out all the complicated technology involved in getting your books.” Despite your efforts, you can’t help cracking a grin at the end of your sentence.

That sparks the fire you hoped it would in Boba, his eyes glittering and his posture shifting forward in response to your goading. “Watch it, princess. Don’t bite off more than you can chew.”

Heaven help me, he looks so kriffing good, his shoulders alone make me want to risk it all. “Don’t worry,” you grin, “I’ve never had any trouble swallowing what’s in my mouth.”

“Well, well, well,” a rich female voice interjects from the door, making you jerk upright. “If it isn’t the new Mandalorian studies professor going at it with the pretty little librarian. I should’ve known that I couldn’t trust you around her, Fett.”

“Fennec!” you exclaim, relief dousing your prickling surprise: she knew you were a tease. You scramble off the lounge and throw your arms around your friend. “It’s Wednesday,” you state, perplexed, “I thought you wouldn’t be back from your trip until Friday?”

She wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a satisfying hug. “Missed you too much, kitten, had to come back a little early,” she answers with her usual flirtatiousness. You don’t miss the way she winks at Boba over your shoulder as her palms slide over the small of your back when she pulls away. You secretly hope it will make him a little jealous.

“Never met a beautiful girl you didn’t try to seduce, have you Shand?” Boba pipes up from behind you, his tone familiar.

Your heart rate spikes at his compliment but you tamp down the heat threatening to creep up your face. Stepping back, you swing your head back and forth between the two professors. “You two know each other?”

Flicking her long braid over her shoulder, Fennec smiles, throwing a puckish look at the man behind the desk. “Oh, Boba and I go way back, long before either of us cleaned up and joined academia. Who do you think got him a job here?” she quips, sinking her weight onto her hip with her usual air of unapologetic fortitude.

“I got myself a job here,” Boba cracks back, his grumbling making it obvious he’s accustomed to Fennec’s ribbing.

She shrugs, grinning. “Don’t discount the power of a good word on the inside.” Slinging an arm around your shoulder, she loudly whispers in your ear, “What’s a pretty thing like you doing with a man like him anyways, kitten? Thought I taught you better than that.”

“Kark off, Shand,” Boba huffs, and Fennec throws her hands up in front of her chest in a showy apology.

Letting his languid gaze slide over to you, Boba studies the curves and planes of your body, mapping out each. You can’t squash the tingling glow buzzing in your chest at his attention, and your eyes sink down under fluttering lashes, your resolve weakened. “She’s a smart girl, she knows what she wants,” he finally says, releasing you from his inspection to smirk at his colleague.

The heat in your lower belly flares hot and wanting at his passive claim over you. Shit. Sometimes you wish he’d just shove your clothes aside and bend you over the nearest flat surface to take you for himself. Dangerous thoughts like those keep you up at night, wishing it his fingers pumping in and out of your pussy instead of your own. 

You drop back down onto the couch to buy yourself a second to regroup. Kicking your feet up in an act of collected indifference, you drawl, “Aw, don't you two go fighting over me, there’s plenty to go around.”

“Yeah, but Boba doesn’t like to share,” Fennec snorts.

You grin up at the dark-haired woman and prop your computer back on your thighs. “Good thing we’re just friends then, Fenn.”

“Lucky him,” she chuckles. Straightening up and drawing a breath, her jovial expression settles into something more sincere. “Well, I’ve got plenty to do for classes next week, just wanted to stop by when I heard your voices. It’s good to see you again.”

Genuine affection spreads in your chest as you look up at your friend; for all her teasing and bluster, Fennec has a heart of gold. “Glad you made it back safe, Fenn, we’ll get coffee and catch up soon,” you promise with a candid smile.

“Sounds good, let me know if you ever want some better looking company.” She winks at you then tosses her head in Boba’s direction. “Always a pleasure to see you still in one piece, Fett.”

Despite his glowering expression, Boba’s voice is warm. “Same to you, Shand. Just remember to always watch your back.” The sound of the dark-haired woman’s throaty laugh echoes down the hallway as she heads towards her office. 

When you look back at Boba, his mahogany eyes are already on you. They’re watching, as they often are, like you’re some fascinating phenomenon that might disappear if he doesn’t recommit it to memory repeatedly. “So you and Fennec are friends,” he states simply, leaning forward on his elbows. There’s something expectant in his tone, his demeanor hinting at anticipation. It makes the cozy atmosphere of the office crackle with intent.

You learned rather quickly that there was little use in trying to figure out Boba when he didn’t want to be figured, so you relax back into the couch and play along. “Yeah, she’s one of the first people I met when I started at the university. She took me under her wing and helped me find my way around here, she’s a good friend.” Before you can think better of it, you add, “But she’s only ever been a friend, despite what she might hint at.”

A small smile chips through the stony set to his features that makes your heart skip a beat. “Well that’s good to hear. Raises my hopes for your answer to my next question.” The richness of his voice belies any nervousness, if a man like him even feels such a thing. He always seems so sure, always in total control. 

Was he jealous of Fennec? Your mouth goes dry and you force your easy smile to stay in place; Boba’s focus is zeroed in on you and you'd rather die than slip up in front of him—he'd enjoy it far too much. “Oh, do tell, professor. I'm all ears,” you urge, biting the inside of your cheek to keep your cool with passing success.

His lips twitch up, amused with your brashness. “You’ve been more than helpful these past four weeks, little one,” he begins, “I couldn't have gotten everything done for my classes or had the peace of mind to get properly settled here.”

“Really, it's no problem, I don't-”

Boba raises a hand for silence and your jaw clicks shut in quick obedience—much to your embarrassment and his obvious pleasure. “Whether you mind or not,” he continues, “or if you feel it's your job, I greatly appreciate all your efforts.” He studies you for a moment and it feels like he can see right through to your insides. “Can I take you to dinner at the Vineyard this Saturday, to thank you for all you've done?”

Genuine surprise releases a stream of words pouring from your lips before you can even register them. “The Vineyard? Downtown? It’s so fancy, you don't have to do that. I mean it's like $100 dinners and-”

“You deserve it, princess. I told you you'd get everything you deserve, remember?” Boba smiles, the corners of eyes crinkling in a fond expression. “Plus, I enjoy your company… and I think you enjoy mine, too.”

Your poor heart is beating so hard in your ribs you’re sure Boba's able to hear it. The safety of him and his space have disarmed your usual defenses, sanded down the spear of your tongue; it’s equal parts freeing and terrifying, uncharted territory ripe with possibilities and danger. You’re left unable to deny his assertion—or form any real words—so you opt to arch a brow instead. 

“Don’t play coy, little one,” he chastens, his firm words and velvet tone skating over your heated skin. “I know construction in the library finished last week, yet you're still spending all your days in my office.”

Biting your lip, you do your best to look surprised. “Oh, really? I must have, uh, missed the memo on that,” you try lamely, scratching at the back of your neck. It’s a weak defense but it’s all you can muster at the moment, only half your brain is available to cobble together a response; the other half is too busy fighting the urge to leap over his desk and into his lap.

Boba chuffs a laugh, his handsome face all too knowing and his deep eyes sparkling with amusement—and maybe something darker, more sensual if you could bear to look. His reaction does, however, kick-start your customary attitude. 

Crossing your arms over your chest, you fix him with the most sardonic look you can. “Well, I didn’t see you complaining, professor.” You tack on an eye roll for good measure as it never fails to get a reaction from him. And, oh, how you wanted to get one out of him, be the reason he’s loses his cool. Just the mere thought of it makes you ache.

Cocking his head to the side, he has the gall to look like he’s already won. “Why would I complain about getting what I want?” His face is drawn in a question, but his eyes flash with the answer.

“Well, you… you, er,” you stammer, suddenly unable to find a foothold. Boba had shaken the very earth beneath you with his admission, it has scattered your mind and rattled the bedrock of your resolve. The familiar nagging, forbidden desire to give in, to submit wells up in your throat; it would be easy, sinfully easy, to give up the fight and let Boba win. But easy’s never been my thing, has it?

Rolling back your shoulders, you mount your last stand. You let your head loll over to look at him directly, your eyes peeking out at him from under hooded lids. “And just what do you want, Boba Fett?” you answer, your voice husky and weighted.

The air itself thickens around you, dampening the outside world to something far away and unimportant as Boba contemplates his response. This is the impasse the two of you had been circling all along, choosing to precariously balance your brash determination against his indomitable will rather than risk tipping the scales. The only true solution is for one of you to give, but neither of you had yet been willing to break.

Finally, Boba’s lips part, a quick tongue darting out to wet the chapped skin. “I want,” he starts, low and deliberate, “to take you out to a nice dinner, have a good glass of wine… and have you all to myself.”

His words are etched in crystalline honesty and thus you have no choice but to respond in kind, even if it only skirts your shared quandary. “Then who am I to deny you, professor?”

The rest of the week might as well not have even happened as far as you're concerned—all that mattered was making it to Saturday. Boba had dangled the promise of sweet reward in front of you and seemed content to watch you flounder your way to it over the intervening days. It also didn’t help that Selena could not shut up about it, even now as she’s standing behind you, pinning and primping your hair to her liking.

“Ooo, I can’t believe it’s really happening!” she squeals, sliding another bobby pin into place against your scalp. “You and the hot professor, going on a date to a romantic restaurant all dressed up! I bet he’s going to invite you back to his place after. Do you think he has a big… you know?”

“If you never finish with my hair, I’ll never have to know,” you grumble. Now that the time has nearly come, you’re about sick to your stomach with all the overthinking you’ve done. You almost talked yourself out of going three times before Selena even came over to help you get ready.

“Hey, none of that sad shit,” she chides, pointing a hairbrush at you in the mirror. “You’ve been dying to go on this date all week, you’ve just got a little case of nerves. Totally normal.”

“But what if he doesn’t actually see this as a date? He never actually said it was. Or what if he really just wants to sleep with me and ditch me after this?” You groan, flopping back against your vanity chair miserably. Your earlier suspicions about his mutual feelings for you had soured—now you’re not even sure he likes you. 

Selena thwacks the back of the head. “Ow!” you yelp, glaring at her in your reflection.

“Pull yourself together. Anyone within a mile radius of you two can tell you’re crazy about each other. Now sit still so I can get these pieces even,” she orders, centering you in the mirror with her hands on your shoulders. You do as she says, focusing on the practiced movements of her hands as a distraction for the feeling in your gut.

By the time you pull on your dress and slip into your shoes, you’re beginning to come back around to your usual self, likely in part due to the shot of tequila Selena convinced you to take with her—not that you needed much convincing to begin with. 

She hypes you up as she fastens the clasp of your necklace around your throat. “Shit, girl, you look hot! I’m not sure he’s going to be able to take his eyes off you long enough to drive to the restaurant.” 

“I do look good don’t I?” You flash yourself a smile in the mirror. After a trip to the mall yesterday, you and Selena had decided on a simple black satin slip dress and matching strappy heels. The deep “V” of the neckline and snug fit around your hips gave the dress just enough sex appeal while still being elegant. Twisting around, you check the lines of the dress in the back. “It’s too bad no one can see these panties, they’re so cute.”

“Oh, someone’s going to be seeing them alright,” Selena giggles from her perch on the end of your bed.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t stop the girlish grin turning up the corners of your mouth at her insinuation. Shit, I hope he rips them off me. “Only if I decide he deserves to.”

“There she is, there’s the girl we know and love. Give him hell!” 

Your phone dings on your bedside table and your friend snatches it up before you can get to it. “Hey! Give it!” you demand, grabbing at the device.

Sliding up the bed out of your reach, Selena hunches around your phone. “He’s here! And he sent a bunch of heart emojis.”

Your nerves tingle in cold-hot anticipation, your face going slack in disbelief. “He did?!”

Selena bursts into laughter. “No, I’m just messing with you, he just said he’s outside.”

“Oh, fuck you,” you groan, snatching away your phone. “Go ahead and see if I keep helping you come up with texts to send all your gym rat side pieces.”

She lays a hand on her chest, feigning shock. “You would never. Now get out there and blow his socks off, or you know, whatever else you want to blow.” She smirks suggestively, shooing you towards the door. “I’ll lock up, now out out out.”

“Okay, okay, I’m going!” Your heart hammers in your chest and you consider another shot of tequila before dismissing it—no need to set yourself up to be any hornier than you already are for the Mandalorian professor. Slinging your purse over your shoulder, you’re out the door.

Leaning against a sleek midnight black Audi is Boba Fett in all his glory, dressed in a well-fitted pressed shirt (with the sleeves rolled up, damn him) and gray slacks. His salt and pepper stubble and dark eyes make his already handsome face look even better. Catching your appearance in the doorway, he juts his chin up in greeting, his eyes sliding over you in obvious pleasure. “Evening, princess.”

He holds out an arm and you take it to step off the curb, testing his muscles underneath your fingers as you do; if Boba notices, thankfully he doesn’t say it. He opens the passenger door and you step in, settling down onto the supple leather of the lush interior. 

He doesn’t close the door right away, instead standing and clearly enjoying the view down your dress. You glare up at him in mock annoyance. “You gonna stare like a dirty old man or are you going to take me to dinner, professor?”

“You’re the one who got all dressed up for a dirty old man, sweetheart, I figured you'd want me to enjoy it,” he replies smoothly, his lips quirking into a smirk as he shuts the door before you can manage a response.

Yep, these panties don’t stand a chance.

“So, Fennec tells me you were some sort of deadly mercenary gun-for-hire before you settled down to teach the impressionable young minds of university students,” you smile cheekily over your glass of wine, swirling the sparkling contents around the cup’s curves. “That true?” Stars help me if it is, I don’t know if he can get any sexier.

The evening air is crisp and warm, a mild sea-breeze rustling the hem of your dress under the table. The scene laid out around you is so terribly romantic you have to pinch yourself a few times to make sure it’s not all part of the best dream you’ve ever had. Tables for two are scattered over a stone patio overlooking the sunsetted ocean, with glowing candles in their centerpieces and string lights criss-crossed overhead illuminating the space with soft light. 

Boba lets out an exasperated sigh, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Of course she did. Don’t believe everything she says about me, she loves to tell a good story.”

“Avoiding the question, are we?”

“Sure you don’t want any dessert?”

“Aww, come on Boba, pleeease? Please tell me,” you whine playfully, sticking out your bottom lip for extra effect. He hadn’t denied you anything yet tonight—and you intend on keeping it that way. 

He sighs, resigned to his fate. “You’re going to be the death me, you know that, princess?” You squeal a pleased sound and lean in conspiratorially on both your elbows, eager to hear his answer. Tossing his napkin from his lap onto the table, he leans against the back of his chair and props his arm up, gazing at you over the candlelight. “I’ll tell you, but you have to answer a question of mine if I do. Deal?”

Running your teeth over your lip, you nod, blinking your eyes down to his crotch and back up to his face slowly so he’s sure to notice. “Yeah, we have a deal. Spill it.”

True to his word, Boba recounts what you’re sure is a heavily abridged version of his life before becoming a teacher. He was born on a rainy little island called Kamino and lost his father young. While his father was a Mandalorian, Boba himself didn’t necessarily consider himself to be one, hinting that he hadn’t felt the most welcome by his father’s people when he visited the island of Mandalore before it’d been nearly wiped off the face of the earth. 

Alone in the Mandalorian diaspora, Boba had turned to what he knew best to make his way in the world: fighting. Working protection gigs, “recovering property” (which no doubt was not entirely legal), and retrieving missing or abducted persons, he made a name for himself in that world as the best since his old man. It was also how he met Fennec, who apparently was one of the best espionage mercs money could buy, and why he had a ridiculous amount of money for a college professor.

“So why did you go into teaching then?” you ask, pushing your now empty glass aside. “Kind of an interesting choice considering your… previous profession.”

“Didn’t plan on it.” Boba drains the rest of his glass and sets it next to yours. “After one too many close calls, though, I knew I couldn't continue that life. All of that wasn’t-isn’t the legacy I want to leave behind. The death of my father and his heritage might have been out of my control, but I will not let it be in vain. So I took what I knew, learned what I didn’t, and started teaching in Mandalorian studies.”

You two sit in silence for a while, watching the tide roll in under the silver gleam of the moon. “Thank you for sharing.” Your voice is almost a whisper, “I’m sorry to hear about your dad. He would've been so proud to see the person you’ve become, I’m sure of it.”

Boba tilts his head to the side, studying you as if you’ve said the most interesting thing the world has ever heard. “Thank you… that’s kind of you to say,” he answers quietly, as if he doesn’t quite believe you himself. The careful look in his eye makes you wonder what other secret burdens the handsome professor bears in silence. Even more so, it makes you want to shoulder some of it, or at least provide him some sort of relief.

The table off to your right bursts into hoots of laughter and the dusky spell between you is broken. You blink the haze out of your eyes and Boba clears his throat. 

“Time to pay up, sweetheart. It’s my turn to ask you a question,” he smiles, his white teeth catching the flickering candlelight. The faraway solemnity in his eyes is replaced with dark heat.

“Go right ahead, I’m all yours,” you grin back, “ask away.”

Signaling your server for the check with two fingers, Boba leans forward, taking your hand in his large one. “Tell me, little princess, am I dropping you back at yours after this, or are you coming home with me?” 

—Endnotes: I don’t know anything about cars, I just know that Audi is a fancy car brand, at least in the US. Don’t judge me 😭. Also I guess this is a coastal university. I don't have a name for the school yet though, what do y'all think?

Part II>

[mandalorianchronicles]

Just some initial thoughts here, I'll write more later...

First of all, yeah - I was a little disappointed that they didn't have any sort of goodbye/good luck exchange, and I would have felt that way whether I shipped Dinbo or not. After everything they've been through this season, it seemed a completely reasonable expectation. But instead of fretting about it, I feel that the writers made an intentional choice to show the viewers that their story isn't over. There was no need for "goodbye" because they're going to be in and out of each other's lives so much over the next season(s). Like, yeah - he's got a little cabin all his own on Nevarro, but he also has a home on Mandalore and a home on Tatooine whenever he wants to be there with his friends. We'll get the payoff with that bottle of wine next season.

Din's story with Mandalore is far from over, so there was no need to conclude it. Grogu sensing the Mythosaur and it sensing him in return is all the proof you need for that. Grogu is a Mandalorian now and learning the bounty hunter trade just like Boba did from his father (and still practicing his Force techniques). Din is working as an independent contractor for the Republic Carson Teva, rooting out any Imperial threats in the Outer Rim, which makes him the first line of defense for his people. He's doing what he knows, but he's doing it for two purposes: raising his son as a Mandalorian and protecting his home. His pledge to Bo-Katan still stands. She is the Mand'alor, which means by creed that when she calls, he comes (and maybe vice versa since I believe she feels equally loyal to him).

I knew from the beginning that this was going to be a slooooow burn romance if they ever fully develop it, but Din is still her first knight and she is still his liege lady. That didn't change. In the meantime, we just do what we always do in-between seasons: write fanfictions, create artwork, compose meta, and edit music videos.

That cabin on the outskirts of town though...juicy stuff is gonna be happening there on ao3.

[brujitaadinbo]

I find it curious that many people who did not understand the "sanctuary" chapter in season 1 of The Mandalorian, have the luxury of criticizing chapter 22 of season 3 of this series without solid arguments.

Practically in "The Sanctuary" they show us a clear mirage of what Din longs for in the deepest part of his heart; belong and create bonds, have a house and someone who loves and waits for you. The point was that he couldn't take that temptation, that illusion, with Omera or Sorgan. Because he did not feel part of that world, Grogu came into his life, the changes began and his life began to get on track. It's not that I don't want it; He is waiting for the perfect moment and the right person.

It seems pathetic to me that they want to deny Bo katan, as a possible interest and connection to Din, just because of his "age, rank, status" when he himself told him that those things did not matter to him.

That they want to pigeonhole him to a "simple" life when practically being a Mandalorian is the least simple thing about SW. And by adopting Grogu, of course, the tasks grow.

It's stupid to want to fit Din with a character like Omera; when she was from the beginning a secondary character, that not even the creed could respect.

They see Omera as the prototype of a “submissive couple” and how sad that they pigeonhole her into that and worse that they say that Din needs or wants a partner like that; when we have seen that what Din is least looking for is a nanny or housewife (be careful, these roles should never be ridiculed because it is not correct)

But it is no coincidence that in an entire chapter like 22 Show us that Din and Bo work so harmoniously.

We see them as that team that seems to have known each other for a long time and in reality is not like that; there is synchrony. Then all the symbolism of couples that could have been; those that were not, those that are and those that will be. coincidence??

And love is really like that; It does not have a pattern or guide, it is not even tangible but it is felt. So; Why continue denying chemistry?

Just because Bo Katan has always broken with those stereotypes of "weak women" Bo katan is a warrior, helpful, a woman who has had to make difficult decisions, someone who fights for what she loves; It makes sense that Din would be attracted to someone like that, someone who has given him a greater purpose.

It causes me a lot of noise that at the moment the Duchess hands the key to Bo; a key that is a clear symbol of something that can open many doors, be the guardian of that something, on the planet of "Pleasure" They are given a symbolism of that size, a key so big

What do they want? Because something that size is not easily lost, unless it is stolen. Something that size stays very close to you. coincidence??? I don't believe it.

Then the Duchess closes with that "You can come back here whenever you want, you are welcome."

You really mean what? Invites you to return to the planet of "pleasure" How appropriate, don't you think?

Showing that bond between the three of them and then saying that they are not like a new family… my god, not even they believe that.

And worse, there are people who say that Din imposes motherhood on her; when she little by little became interested in the child at first to rescue him, even though she already had her own priorities. Afterwards she bonds with him and treats him as an equal, she doesn't see him as a stuffed animal, she sees him as a thinking and emotional being. And she takes care of him and is affectionate. For God's sake, you really have to connect your neurons before "criticizing"

It surprises me that there are still people who say "this boring season, what changed?"

God, did I pay you an appointment with the eye doctor? did you really watch the series?

I just want to close with this; Grogu is a sworn knight of the Duchess, from Plazir 15, coincidentally he is a sworn knight of Bo katan and this new shipment with his father…

coincidence?? I don't believe it this is the way.