#the mandalorian/original character

[skiitter]

I posted the first chapter of my Mandalorian/OFC fic :) I had to literally make one of the ship tags myself so that was fun. Very girlboss of me.

Anyway ty for my life @andcosmic for being the star wars beta of my heart and to em (and your 300 sideblogs) for being in the same Din Djarin hell in tandem with me.

[staff]

Tumblr Tuesday: WooOOooOOOOhh!

Happy Halloween, Tumblr. We hope everyone is enjoying trick-or-treating and all the cursed images you're sending each other. From cute to creepy via weird and wonderful, here's a selection of Halloween art from your very own #Artists on Tumblr. 

@ambermaitrejean:

@myjetpack:

@celesse:

@gleafer:

@valeron99:

@bymossypine:

@kellkyy:

@nynevefromthelake:

@itscarliart:

@cupofmin:

@owlyjules:

@the-deadly-donut:

@enerjax:

@passionpeachy:

@z0mbieparty:

@monstersovka:

@torigatonda:

@oddarette:

@lizmamont:

@butt-berry:

@zandramims:

@cyanocittae:

[zaana]

I drew this as part of an art trade for the lovely @wrenkenstein I'm a big fan of their OCJuno and wanted something soft and cozy, I'm happy how it turned out!

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Ok, this is so fun! Congrats again!

I'll pick...Hunter (shocked, I'm sure.)

How about: "I don't think I've ever seen you smile" and "Oh, don't be cute"/"Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Thanks!!

Carol (@clonethirstingisreal)

Thank you @clonethirstingisreal - I hope you love this Carol, it actually brought a smile to my face as I was writing it.

Enjoy, love oo.

One Meal

Warnings: knife flipping, allusions to loss, slight angst, fluff. I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Hunter flicked his knife back and forth in between his fingers, as he contemplated the next mission. Things were … different, since you joined. Not good or bad … just different. It been about six months, and yes, the Marauder was cleaner and didn’t have that lingering smell anymore, and yes, the meals had gotten better too, because you refused to just eat the ration bars the GAR provided. And … okay, it was nice to see your smiling face in the morning, compared to the miserable faces of his brothers. 

Yet, he still felt awkward around you. He wanted to laugh with you, like you could so easily with Wrecker, to have deep discussion, like you could with Tech, even philosophical discussions like you did with Echo. Hell, he’d be happy if he could just do target practice with you, like you did with Crosshair, but … every time he opened his mouth, he was curt, short tempered, and on edge. 

It wasn’t even your fault, it was just him. 

He stood from his seat, heading down the ramp and taking in a breath of fresh air. You were cooking dinner, doing your best to teach Wrecker that just because salt tasted good, didn’t mean he had to put in a whole table spoon full. 

It made him laugh a little as you tried to explain in your most patient voice possible, that you’d fix the dinner and Wrecker could go help Tech or Crosshair with something else. It was your polite way of saying ‘go away.’

Hunter tried but he couldn’t stop the smile on his lips, as he walked over to you.

"I don't think I've ever seen you smile" you pointed out as he walked up to you. “What’s got you so happy?”

“Oh, I just saw how you were very tactful with Wrecker. It was funny.”

You shrugged trying to fight back your own laughter as you tried to fix the stew, by adding more water, “He tried. I’m grateful he’s willing to learn.”

“Need help? I’m not completely inept when it comes to cooking.”

You looked a little surprised when he asked, not that his offering to help was a real shock, it was the fact you realized this was the first time you two had a proper conversation. “Um … yeah, if you don’t mind using your handy dandy knife there, that you like flipping around so much, to cut up some of these veggies so I can add them, that’d be great.”

Hunter chuckled at your description, as he nodded, taking a seat and getting to work, “Where did you learn to cook?” He asked, hoping to get to know you a little better.

“My mom and grandmother. They were adamant that I learn how to feed an army if I ever needed to …” you chuckled, “I had a big family, back home. Usually there would be around twenty of us for dinner.”

“Twenty? Did you have a lot of siblings?”

“No. It was just me. But I had uncles, aunts, cousins, friends, neighbours, anyone and everyone who needed a meal could always come to our place for dinner. We never turned away anyone in need of a good meal.”

“Sounds nice.”

“It was …” a sadness passed your face, as you thought back to what had once been your home, until the Separatist droid army showed up, and destroyed everything you had held so dear. 

Hunter saw your smile slip, it pained him to see that you had been through so much, although he hadn’t heard about it directly from you, he did overhear what had happened when you were talking with Tech. “Well we appreciate all your efforts, especially when you’re trying to teach us neanderthals how to cook.”

You giggled a little, pushing away the sad thoughts that had encapsulated your mind for a split second, “You’re not neanderthals.”

“We’re not exactly proper either. Couldn’t say, we’re exactly suited for a posh dinner.”

You shook your head as you laughed, “You don’t need to be suited for a posh dinner, you just need to show up to eat.” You smiled as you turned to look at him, smirking as you saw how perfectly he cut each vegetable.

You walked over and grabbed the tray of veggies, and dropped them into the stew, “Thanks for your help.”

“Of course. Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure”

“Why do you take care of us? I mean granted the Marauder smells a lot better, and the meals you cook are much better than the GAR rations, but … why do you do it?”

You stirred the stew as you contemplated the question, “I guess … because you feel like family to me.” You turned to look at him, truthfully, he was the only one that you didn’t think of as family, you wanted something more with him, something special, but seeing as this was the first time you two actually talked, it might be a bit far-fetched to imagine that could possibly happen. “And, I love seeing how my food makes you guys happy. Wrecker, has the biggest smile on his face, whenever he eats when I cook. Tech has this adorable blush, although he’ll never admit how much he enjoys my cooking. And Crosshair … well he always comes back for seconds; and frankly, between you and me, he needs to eat more. He’s too skinny. I could break off his collarbone if I needed.”

“I enjoy it too,” Hunter clarified as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, “I might not say it, but I always look forward to your cooking.” He blushed and turned his head away, not wanting you to see how much of an effect you had on him, and not just because of your cooking. 

You laughed at his reaction, "Oh, don't be cute” you teased, “I might have to walk over there and pinch your cheeks.”

Hunter started to laugh, when he realized what you said, “Wait, did you just say that I'm cute?"

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

[netherfeildren]

The Cassandra Complex : Masterlist

Pairing: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x F!Reader

Summary: Enter: A man who is not so much a man, but an effigy, a wound of steel and armor and Creed – secrecy and masked faces, above all else. 

Enter: A girl who is not a girl, but a creature helmed in darkness and spit out unto the galaxy broken and unmoored. 

Enter: The creation of myth.

-OR-

the dark sider/mandalorian au no one knew they needed

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence; Graphic depictions of violence; Canon divergence; Themes of redemption; And forgiveness; THE RAZOR CREST LIVES BITCH!!!!; Soft!Dom Din Djarin; Protective behavior; Possessive behavior; Unprotected sex; Creampie; Breeding kink; Size difference; Size kink; Rough sex; Spanking; Overstimulation; Brat taming; Touched-Starved Din Djarin; Angst with a happy ending; Hurt/comfort; Fluff and smut; Inappropriate Use Of the Force; Discussions of infertility; References to Greek Mythology; Past abuse; Not safe to read if triggered by pregnancy; Violence as a metaphor for desire and intimacy; Other additional tags to be added 

Read on AO3

PART I :

Chapter I: Apollo

Chapter II: Prometheus

Chapter III: Psyche

Chapter IV: Aite

Chapter V: Morpheus

Chapter VI : Sisyphus

Chapter VII : Hysminai

Chapter VIII : Melpomene

Interlude : Tartarus

PART II :

Chapter IX : Persephone

Chapter X: Geryon

Chapter XI: Lethe

Chapter XII: Venus

Chapter XIII: Eros

Chapter XIV: Dionysus

Chapter XV:

⚡️Din and Sithy art by the wonderfully talented @dirtysouvenir

⚡️Updates Blog : Follow and turn on notifications for new writing!

[izelascendant]

Helping Hand.

Din Djarin x f! Original character

words: 3,912

summary: Sharing a room comes with all sorts of problems. Problems that can be fixed by helping each other out. Lending a helping hand, if you will.

tags: Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, Masturbation Interruptus, Helmetless Din Djarin, Lights Off, Squirting, Multiple Orgasms, Come eating, Wet & Messy, First Time, Sexual Inexperience, Handjob, Vaginal Fingering, Simultaneous Orgasm, Smut, Porn with Plot (?)

author’s note: If you couldn’t tell already, I have a thing for Din Djarin in the dark. Also I’ve just been booming with ideas.

Din exited the shower, pausing briefly before heading back into the dimly lit room. Despite the darkness, he could make out her silhouette on the top bunk. With her back turned, he presumed she was asleep.

She wasn’t.

She had been awake for some time, grappling with a sense of guilt over the tension that had hung between them since the events of the previous night. Determined to address it, she finally broke the silence by speaking up. "I kept you up last night, didn't I?"

Her words shattered the silence, catching Din off guard as he believed she had been asleep. Stunned, he stood frozen by her bunk in the darkness. Uncertain about the source of the tension, he was determined to diffuse it. "Don't apologize," he whispered, aiming to offer reassurance and put an end to the lingering unease.

A few more seconds of silence lingered before she finally sat up "You heard," she said, her words carrying a sense of uncertainty, as if unsure whether it was a question or an affirmation.

"I did," he confessed at last, his tone betraying a curiosity about the direction the conversation might take. A palpable silence settled between them, punctuated only by the sound of their breathing. He almost sensed that his own heartbeat might be audible in the quietude.

Eventually, she broke the quiet with a quiet admission, "It helps me sleep." Her tone held a tinge of embarrassment.

Her confession seemed to intensify the heat coursing through his body. "It helps you sleep?" Uncertain of what else to say, he let the question linger in the dimness of the room.

She swallowed, her voice still hushed. "I wasn't trying to wake you," she explained. "Like I said, it helps me sleep. And since we share a room, I can't—" She trailed off, still feeling a little hesitant about the subject.

"You can't what?" he persisted, sensing an inexplicable need to hear her articulate the words distinctly. The conversation stirred within him a range of emotions he couldn't quite identify.

Did she really need to spell it out for him? She let out a small huff "You know what," her voice was low and slightly raspy, "touch myself, make myself—" She halted once again, the unspoken words hanging in the air.

A surge of heat coursed through him, and arousal pulsed once again. His heart skipped a beat when she stopped short of the final word. "You can say the whole thing," he whispered, his tone encouraging. "You don't have to be shy about it." The intimacy of the moment hung in the air, the unspoken tension reaching a new height as he urged her to express herself fully.

Her cheeks burned, a vivid display of the lingering embarrassment mixed with adrenaline. “Making myself come. Having an orgasm helps me sleep.” She mumbled.

"Is that—is that what last night was?" he whispered.

A soft "yes" escaped her lips, the admission hanging in the air like a delicate thread. While she felt a desire to be mature about discussing the subject, the underlying tension stemmed from the fact that—she secretly thought of him while pleasuring herself.

The overwhelming situation left him speechless, his mind filled with questions and imagery. He pictured her pleasuring herself, feeling the overwhelming desire and arousal that filled him. The feeling was new and intense, like nothing he had felt before.

“Was it only once? Or did you—?” He could barely speak, the tension growing thicker.

Din's words made her face warm up again. “For Maker’s sake, Din,” She was a human, a flesh and blood person with desires that were natural. “I have needs just like you and everyone else. Yes, I–I masturbate. I enjoy pleasuring myself, is that so hard to believe?” She mumbled back, unsure of what his intentions were, or where the conversation was headed.

“It’s not hard to believe. I do too,” he finally managed to say as he continued to feel his heartbeat increase.

“So what’s the deal?” Her voice rasped a little. “I’ll be more quiet next time.” She sat back, her voice lowering even further. “Or if you want, I’ll do it outside of the ship.” There was a hint of humor in her statement, despite her sheepishness.

“No, no,” he was quick to respond. “You can—you can be as loud as you want.” She could say or do whatever she wanted. He was hoping that she knew why.

His words caught her off guard, confusing her once again. She mumbled a simple 'What?' to his statement, unable to process the interaction herself.

“It's okay.” he started off, but then his words failed him once again, as his tongue twisted and stumbled over them. “What I'm trying to say is that you can—you can do what you want," he said quietly.

Then he tried his best to finish the thought, “I don't want you to tone it down.”

“You like it?” She questioned in a whisper. She was being enveloped by the arousal she knew so well, almost as if it had been there the entire time, waiting for her to let it take her.

“Yes,” he whispered, not trying to hide his feelings one bit. He was not sure what to say or how to respond after that. He was still getting the same feeling from last night that she had left him with—an overwhelming sense of heat and a rush that he didn’t know how to deal with.

“Din?” Her voice, slightly raspy and hushed, pierced the air once more. The unspoken tension lingered, and it was evident that there was something on her mind, something she wanted to say or ask, but the words eluded her.

“Yes?” he whispered, still mesmerized by the sound of her voice after she had spoken.

“I want to hear you,” she paused, thinking about just how bold her request was, “just like in the shower.” The room held a suspended silence as she paused, contemplating the boldness of her thoughts and the request that hung on the tip of her tongue.

“And you listen to me too—both of us, touching ourselves.” She whispered.

Her admission hung in the air, and a heavy silence settled between them. “You mean, you want to hear me while—” he could not come up with the right words. The idea of him touching himself for her to hear was making her go crazy. He found it so arousing to think of.

“Please,” She whispered, the room held a heightened sense of awareness as she shuffled in her cot, the audible sound of her removing her shorts adding a layer of intimacy to the charged atmosphere.

“Get into your bunk.” She said softly.

Her words seemed to act as a signal, and he didn't ask any questions. Climbing onto his bunk, the darkness shrouded him, leaving him unable to see anything. Yet, he made his body as comfortable as possible, anticipation hanging in the air. The feeling of suspense was almost overwhelming, but there was a strange allure to it, a shared moment in the dimly lit room that held a promise of something unspoken and intimate.

“You can hear me, right?” she inquired from the top bunk, her breath slightly labored. She ensured that he could detect the sounds of her movements in her cot.

“Yeah—Yeah, I can hear you just fine,” he mumbled. The moment she started to move around in her bed, he was already starting to get excited.

She swallowed and shimmied out of her skivvies, allowing herself to lay completely bare in the darkness. Her breathing started off heavy as she slowly touched herself, the quiet atmosphere allowing every single lewd sound coming from her to be audible.

“Are you,” she swallowed, “doing it too?”

Her words, her gestures, and the sounds of her self-indulgence were driving him to the brink, leaving him utterly exposed in the darkness. His breaths grew heavier, and he felt a pulsating intensity building within him.

“Y-Yeah,” he replied after a few seconds of waiting.

Almost instantly, she emitted a contented hum upon hearing his words. Her labored breaths transformed into soft moans and whimpers. "Keep going, I want to hear," she murmured, giving in to the sensations without restraint. Her mind was hazy, and her entire body felt warm and moist.

Now unable to contain himself, he couldn't remain silent any longer. The symphony of her moans and whimpers created an illusion that she was right there in his bunk, beside him. His breathing escalated, becoming rapid and audible, spiraling out of his control. Small, desperate moans escaped him as the intense sensation surged within. The realization that she was engaging in this act solely for him sent waves of unbridled arousal through his body.

She had never encountered anything quite like this before. While she had engaged in self-pleasure, it paled in comparison to the current experience. It felt as though they were each treated to their own exclusive performance, as if the sounds they made were tailored solely for mutual pleasure.

“I’m close.” She cautioned, uncertain whether the words were spoken aloud or merely a product of her internal thoughts.

His sounds grew more aggressive, and his breaths became increasingly heavy and abbreviated. “So am I,” he breathed out.

His deep groans were akin to heavenly music for her. They were sufficient to induce her eyes rolling back and her back arching as she fervently manipulated her fingers. A choked moan escaped her, sensing her body growing hotter and weightier. "Din," she moaned, injecting a personal touch into the moment, even though they couldn't see or physically feel each other. It all revolved around the sensations and sounds they shared.

The realization that she was seeking him out, and not just anyone else, stirred emotions within him that he never thought possible. Her voice, above all, was the ultimate turn-on, resonating as absolutely perfect to him. The sounds emanating from the darkness carried an intimacy and heat that heightened the experience even further. “I’ the same,” he replied. “I’m just about—there.”

She squeezed her eyes shut, the hand not otherwise occupied tightly gripping the sheets. She didn't dare alter her pace; she was on the brink—just needing that extra push to propel her across the finish line. "Please," she panted, "say my name," she begged. The room resonated with the explicit sounds of both of them edging closer to their climax.

Her words unleashed a powerful sensation within him, surpassing anything he had ever felt before. Despite the desire to prolong the experience, he wasn't sure if he could hold out much longer. Her words were driving him to the brink of madness. Unable to resist any longer, he blurted out her name. The proximity to climax was so intense that he couldn't resist the overwhelming sensation. "Say my name."

She let out an almost squeal, her limbs squirming within the sheets. "Din—" she choked out, "I'm com—" Those were her final words before her breathing became even more erratic, and she felt as though she might have seen stars.

A wave of heat and pleasure engulfed him, and he released one final moan before finally finding his peace. His entire body twitched, and his breath grew heavier. He lay still in the darkness for a moment, absorbing the magnitude of what had just transpired. It was utterly mind-blowing.

Afterwards, the only sound that filled the room was their combined breathing, still heavy but gradually slowing down. Her mind remained foggy, her body warm and slightly sweaty. A moment of silence passed between them before she decided to break it. "I squirted," she remarked with a slight chuckle at the vulgarity of her own words.

Her words and her chuckle broke him from his state of thought and he felt a wave of heat wash over his body once more. “I came too,” he said back, breathing heavily.

She was still feeling bold. The thought of what they had just done dawned on her, and she started to realize what had just happened, but she didn’t want to lose the feeling of lust just yet. “In your hand?” She asked.

He let out a smirk and a short, quiet chuckle as she asked this question. “It had to go somewhere,” he said quietly.

She giggled faintly. Her breathing was still audible. After a pause she spoke again. “Show me.” She murmured. “Bring your hand here.” Her voice was full of excitement and boldness.

He emerged from the lower bunk, cautiously extending his hand, which bore the remnants of his release, towards the edge of the blanket to show her. His curiosity lingered, eager to receive her reaction.

She touched it, feeling the consistency. “It’s still warm.” She noted. Her voice was still dripping with lust.In the dimness, their vision obscured, she took hold of his hand and gently guided it closer to her mouth. Her heart pounded, and after a momentary hesitation, she acted impulsively—without thinking, she ran her tongue along his hand.

Her description of it being warm ignited a frenzy within him. The realization that she was right there, experiencing the same sensations, made it all the more intense. It became the most arousing sensation he had ever felt, prompting a quiet groan to escape from him.

"Salty," she added quietly, allowing his finger to gently graze her bottom lip. The entire experience was incredibly erotic, heightened by the pleasure of hearing his breathing. Sensing his enjoyment, she murmured, "I made a mess of myself."

His heartbeat pounded so intensely it felt like it might burst out of his chest, and the sensation of impending release gripped him once more. He shifted his hand to where she had touched herself, then slowly brought it to his mouth. It took a moment for him to summon the courage to follow through.

She released a long breath as his fingers met with her core, which remained warm and wet. His unexpected move caught her off guard, but she welcomed it without any complaints. Her cheeks burned with desire, and she let out a shaky breath, an intense yearning for him welling up within her.

"How do I taste?" she whispered raspingly, her words soft yet filled with desire.

He savored the taste and sensation, taking his time before slowly swallowing, he whispered, "Divine," in response.

His words had a profound effect on her, melting away any remaining barriers. "Din," she murmured yearningly, her mind still clouded with lust.

The thought that they were lying right next to each other, sharing the same sensations, sent waves of satisfaction through his body. "Just like you," he replied quietly, acknowledging the intimate connection they shared in that moment.

“Kriff,” She murmured slowly. She was surprised at just how much his words were able to fuel her own arousal—and she had a feeling he knew what his words did to her. She sat up, sensing his heavy breath close to her.

“My sheets are wet.” She stated, following up with a brief pause. “Can I come down to your bunk?”

Without a moment's hesitation, he was ready for her to join him. "Yeah," he whispered back, "come here."

He heard her descend from the top bunk, bringing her blanket with her. She placed it down in the space he had made for her in his bunk and lay down, positioning it just below her hips. The blanket, already damp with her previous release, served as a makeshift towel for the time being. As she breathed out, she felt the warmth emanating from his body, not too far from hers. There was an irresistible allure to it.

“I’ve never been so worked up.” She murmured, almost in admiration. She drifted her legs apart, her feet shuffling through his sheets. “I’m still soaking.” She said in a slow and tantalizing breath.

They were in such close proximity that the air between them felt suffocating. His hands slowly traveled up to her thighs, feeling the dampness on them. Uncertain about what would come next, he surrendered to the instinctual impulses of his body.

She emitted a faint whine, her breath shaking with anticipation as she felt his hand drawing near. Sensing her heightened pulse between her legs, she gently guided his hand, pressing it down a bit to let him truly feel her warmth and wetness. The palm of his hand rested on the patch of hair at her pelvic area, while his fingers explored between her folds. She swallowed, allowing her mouth to hang open in the midst of the intensifying sensations.

Her warmth enveloped his hand, and his mouth hung open as he absorbed the overwhelming sensations. "Gods," he breathed out slowly, continuing, "You're so warm."

Her whimpers and moans alone were enough to captivate him, and the sensation of her warmth was all he needed. Placing his hand on her hip, he moved his fingers delicately between her folds, feeling the warmth intensify. He let out small chuckles. "I almost feel like my hand is melting," he remarked between heavy breaths.

She emitted a gentle chuckle of her own. Then, she brought her hand closer to his hip, letting it graze along his warm skin. "Can I touch your hard-on?" she whispered, full of eagerness and curiosity. His hand was right where she needed it, and she desired to place her hand right where he needed hers.

“Yes, please,” he murmured back to her.

She went for it, slowly exploring him. Taken aback by the sheer length and thickness, it was an entirely foreign experience for her—foreign yet undeniably exciting. She swallowed, feeling around aimlessly.

"I've never," she began, uncertain of how to articulate what she wanted to say, "I don't know how to—"

Her sudden halt caught him off-guard for a moment but he quickly realized that she was in need of guidance. He took his hand and laid it on hers to guide her in the correct way.

She found it even more arousing when he placed his hand over hers to guide it. A soft moan escaped her, and her breathing became heavy and shaky once more. Deciding to reciprocate, she placed her hand onto his where his fingers were exploring. "Right there," she whispered, "that's where it feels the best," indicating as she guided his fingers to her most sensitive part.

"Ok," he whispered, allowing his fingers to follow her guidance. He kept his hand still on top of hers, refraining from moving his fingers for a moment, allowing her to take control. Eventually, he started moving his fingers in gentle circles, synchronizing with her needs.

A louder moan escaped her, a clear sign that he was hitting the right notes. Her breathing transitioned into whimpers, and her eyes fluttered for a moment. Despite her own pleasure, she remained focused, wanting to reciprocate and please him just as much. In response, she sped up the pace of her hand wrapped around his length.

“Does that feel good?” She breathed out.

He released a groan of his own in response to her touch, finding it absolutely amazing and feeling on the brink of breaking from the intensity of the sensations. Yet, the sounds of her whimpers and moans spurred him to continue. "It feels so good," he muttered, punctuating each word with small moans. "Keep going—"

She swallowed, panting hard, feeling a slight boost in confidence as she could tell she was pleasing him and heading in the right direction. "Your fingers," her words tumbled out amidst moans and heavy breathing, "inside me," she mumbled.

The thought of his fingers being inside her sent a wave of heat throughout his body. "Maker," he murmured softly, his breathing becoming heavier with each word.

She guided his fingers, breathing heavily. Once they were in just the right way, she felt her body sink into the mattress, the heat intensifying, and she couldn't help but moan. "Oh gods," she tried to control her breathing, "stars,”

"Curl your fingers," she gave one last indication.

"I've got you," he assured, letting his fingers curl up inside of her, following the direction she was leading. The more he made her feel good, the closer he felt himself getting to the edge.

His actions elicited a cry of pleasure from her, and her grip around him tightened as she stroked more vigorously. "I-I'm not gonna last," she struggled to speak, her head tossing and turning against the pillow behind her. The overwhelming stimulation brought her to the brink of ecstasy.

“Neither am I,” he responded hoarsely, his breath becoming even shorter and he began to feel his legs quiver slightly. “I—So good,” he groaned, his fingers still curled, as she had indicated. “I’m so close.”

She practically screamed, gripping the sheets as tightly as she could, her legs spasming and her back arching in the throes of ecstasy. Barely giving herself time to recover, she shifted her focus to him as he approached his own climax.

"Gods," he moaned, taking control of her hand, guiding her fingers further and further as he approached his climax.

"Yes," she panted, delighting in the sensation of his release. They both lay back, their breathing patterns erratic, bodies sweaty and overheated. As enjoyable as it was, it left them both utterly spent.

"Stars," she whispered. "I don't even know where to start." She lingered, her gaze lost in the dark. Her breathing started to calm down, and she felt her whole face was hot and flushed.

"Neither do I," he whispered back. A quiet stillness settled in the small space they shared. Although the air wasn't as hot as before, it still carried a warmth. He let his gaze linger on hers for a moment before allowing it to wander off to the ceiling, absorbing the sight of her next to him and the profound connection they had just experienced.

The air hung heavy with a certain scent—a mixture of pheromones and sweat, not unpleasant but a testament to the intensity of their exchange. She took a deep breath and sat up in his cot, her eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room, trying to discern his location.

"Wipe yourself off with my blanket. It's soaked anyway," she said with a hint of amusement. She stood up from the bunk. "I'm gonna pee. I'll be right back," she warned calmly before slipping into the fresher.

He remained where he was, taking a moment to adjust his clothes and clean up the aftermath between his legs. In a state of slight embarrassment but overwhelming satisfaction, he examined the soaked blanket—undeniable proof of the intensity of their encounter. The experience had brought him a level of satisfaction during orgasm that he had never felt before, leaving him in a state of self-reflection and contemplation.

She, too, found herself uncertain about the situation, aside from the fact that she had enjoyed it. Upon her return from the fresher, she climbed back into the top bunk. Her breathing still somewhat heavy, she felt a sense of peace mixed with exhaustion settling in.

She leaned her head down from the top bunk. "I enjoyed every moment," she said in a straightforward manner, as if feeling the need to set the record straight.

"I did too," he breathed back from below. It was a simpler response, yet an important one for him. Lying still in the bed, he felt more relaxed than ever.

Despite the night's craziness, it felt fulfilling.

[wrenkenstein]

First art of 2024, and believe it or not, the first thing ive drawn in 5 months! I took a little art hiatus to focus on mental health. Anyways, have an eepy Juno :)

[dindjarindiaries]

DIN DJARIN ONE-SHOTS

Each story below focuses on Din Djarin, with pairings for each story indicated along with summaries.

Stories marked with an asterisk (*) contain sexual, though not explicit/graphic, content.

My ratings are as follows: G (all ages), T (13+), M (18+)

Last updated: March 17, 2024

main masterlist • series • drabbles • prompts

the “heat” of the moment • reader The heat goes out on the Razor Crest and you’re the only one with an electric blanket to keep yourself warm.

my cyar’ika • fem!reader You and Din find yourselves in a marketplace lush with life, and you lose yourself in the fun while Din tries to keep you safe throughout it.

just fine • reader Din comforts you after you suffer through a tumultuous nightmare.

everything i wanted • reader You’re trapped inside a Din x Omera love triangle, struggling to get to your lover who’s entranced with your new host.

riduurok • reader This is the story of how you fall in love with the Mandalorian bounty hunter, Din Djarin.

home • reader After the child is reunited with his people, Din takes you to a place that’s unfamiliar to you but all too familiar to him: his home.

when stars align• reader You spend an affectionate morning awakening beside your Mandalorian, who you have just recently married.

more than words* • reader On the evening of your marriage, you and Din show your deep love for each other in a manner that goes beyond words.

the challenge • reader After winning a drinking challenge, Din returns to the Crest much later than expected in a state of mind much different than usual, leaving you to deal with him and whatever words spill from his mouth.

don’t blame me• reader In the weeks following your marriage, you and Din are desperate to make up for all the physical affection you’ve missed out on—leading you to do whatever you can wherever you can.

said and done • reader With Din being injured from a past fight, you’re the one in charge of the hunts for now—and Din realizes he likes having you in control.

behave* • reader After a grueling hunt, you and Din celebrate your success at a local cantina, both ending up with a little too much that leads you to do things that are a little too risky.

nothing so perfect • fem!reader You and Din think that you’re adding on to your family, only to learn there’s been a mistake—and now you’re both left to cope with the loss you never expected.

next to you • reader It’s been long enough since Din’s promised return for you to assume that he didn’t make it, and now you yearn for the life that could’ve been.

forever and always • reader When you and Din finally find the child’s home, it’s time to say goodbye—but then Din realizes he can’t.

reverence • fem!reader Following the birth of your daughter, Din spends a night marveling at the little life and the way you provide for her.

transmissions • reader When Din’s away on a long job, he gives you a holotransceiver and sends you transmissions to keep you both at ease.

purpose • fem!reader As the daughter of an Imperial senator, the Mandalorian’s hired as your bodyguard—but with the twisted ideals of your father putting you at risk, he becomes so much more than that.

irrevocable • reader After a hunt goes wrong and Din gets captured, you go after him and save him, but you find that they’ve removed his helmet and have done him personal damage that will last for much longer.

mine* • fem!reader With tensions rising not only in the galaxy but also in your relationship, Din proves to you in a new way that he’ll take care of you.

never alone • fem!reader In the aftermath of a bad nightmare, Din receives comfort from an unexpected source: his daughter.

tresses • reader When Din’s hair becomes the object of your and the baby’s affections, he decides it’s time for a trim—although he’s hesitant for a reason you must discover.

enervation • reader Din returns home from his new job as exhausted as ever, begging you to join him in sleep—and trying to make it happen at all costs.

take care • reader After Din sustains an injury on a job, you have to help him take care of himself—something he grows more and more fond of.

affliction • fem!reader When you and Din get recognized at an Imperial gala, you’re both taken into custody, where they begin to use Din to get you to talk—and lead you to do something completely unexpected.

take it off* • reader Your new ally extends his hospitality a little too far—and now Din’s determined to remind you of what he alone can provide you with.

cozy in the cockpit • reader After the Crest suffers through an intense chase and crash, you and Din must figure out how to survive on a freezing planet—your low odds causing your mutual feelings to come to the surface.

beneath the surface • reader You and Din get double-crossed when trying to find other Mandalorians, putting all three of you in deep waters.

touch it softly • reader When you invite Din to play with your hair, you both get a little more than lost in the moment.

alleviation • reader You continue helping Din recover from the traumatizing removal of his helmet, trying to make him understand that it’s okay to not be okay. (part two of Irrevocable)

the right thing • reader Din returns to you on Nevarro after the mission on Moff Gideon’s cruiser—without the child.

ni ceta par gar (i kneel for you)* • reader When Mando needs emotional release, you seek to fulfill your pining by offering something neither one of you can resist—something that could change everything.

in my head • reader The thought of Din plagues your mind—and it won’t be long until it’s forced onto your lips.

hold me in hyperspace • reader After a long hunt, you think Mando just wants some rest—but really, he just wants you.

ner yaim (my home) • reader After a day of work, you get to come home to Din, who’s fitting into his new role well.

mureyca (kiss) • reader The story of the different ways in which you share a kiss with the Mandalorian.

torrent • reader When one of Din’s worst fears is revealed, you’re left to do whatever you can to put him at ease.

bloom • reader With your relationship now in full blossom, a flustered Din takes you on your first date, where he does everything he can to tell you how you make him feel.

before i go • reader Imperial occupation of your covert as well as your mind lead to a devastating confrontation between you and your past Mandalorian lover.

favorite crime • reader When your ex-partner-in-crime and past lover enters your life again, you find yourself looking back on fond memories with a tremendous desire to chase them again.

solace • reader Din reassures you when your perfectionist tendencies catch up to you.

intemperate • reader Mando’s indulgence in liquid courage leads him to say things you never thought you’d hear—and will never forget.

scars • reader When Din shows unprecedented hatred for his battle-worn body, it’s up to you to reassure him of everything you love about it.

seeking serenity • reader Mando, overcome with anxiety in the aftermath of a risky event, needs you to bring him back to reality—and asks for much more along the way.

liberation • reader You lead a mission to free Din from an Imperial hideout, only to discover that he’s in need of you much more than you originally thought.

contrition • reader Din comforts you after you do something drastic to save his life.

bring me home • reader You reunite with your Mandalorian lover after a long separation and realize much has changed since you last him.

safety net • deaf!reader When you and Din are reunited after a hunt that goes longer than expected, your mutual feelings for each other finally bubble to the surface—regardless of the fears you’ve both buried deep within.

selfish • reader Din, who’s helplessly in love with you, is forced to watch you and your partner until he’s forced to come to terms with his feelings.

united we fall • reader Din’s unable to control the Darksaber and accidentally hurts you with it, leaving behind a deep scar on your body and his mind.

of bounties and bartenders • fem!reader The mysterious Din “Brown Eyes” Djarin returns to visit you after a job, but trouble is the last thing he’s left behind.

astronomy • reader Crossing paths with a seriously injured Din forces the two of you to come to terms with your relationship.

stardust • reader You finally reunite with your Mandalorian lover, just to learn a devastating truth.

fine line • reader Din tries his best to comfort you in the aftermath of your torturous capture.

scarlet promise • reader Vengeance consumes you when Din’s put at risk, causing him to have to pull you back to reality.

what sits in the silence • reader Your bounty-hunting rival turns to you in his time of need and brings along more baggage than you planned on handling.

when a house becomes a home • reader A new home brings new responsibilities, and there’s only one person who can teach Din how to cook a proper meal: you.

takes one to know one • reader Bounty hunters aren’t supposed to fall in love and you were okay with that. So was the Mandalorian.

love me louder • reader Your secret romance with the Mandalorian is put at risk when you find yourself in the wrong place at the wrong time.

shattered • reader When an anxious day gets the best of you, Din seeks to comfort you.

the broken who blossom • reader At long last, Din’s returned home to the covert, but he’s brought a lot more home with him than anticipated.

in sickness & in health • reader Din does his best to comfort you when you become anxious about your health.

doomsday • reader You and Din are interrogated by Moff Gideon, who has quickly realized you’re the best weapon he has to use against the Mandalorian.

i still see you • reader In the aftermath of the Morak mission, Din’s faced with a crisis you only hope you can help to resolve somehow.

fight for me • reader When Din starts to get harassed at a cantina, you can’t help jumping in to defend him at all costs.

dead to me• fem!oc On the verge of death, Twila takes off Din’s helmet, later having to face his wrath and leave his ship—even though she’s pregnant with their unborn child.

the marshal • fem!oc Din covers his face. So does she. Shrouded in mystery and unable to admit their shared intimidation, the two must work together to save Mos Pelgo—for both their sakes.

aftermath • omera After his quest has been fulfilled, Din returns to Sorgan, needing the comfort and support of someone he could never forget.

stay • omera Din wrestles with his feelings for Omera and tries to tell her how she feels—but has to let her in first.

a warrior’s purpose • daughter Din returns to the planet where he’d left his riduur many years ago to find her again—but instead, he finds someone else.

enterprise • cassian andor, k2so When Mando’s quarry offers him a better deal, he finds himself getting involved in more than he originally bargained for.

malevolence • grogu Din experiences the ghastly side effects of wielding the famed Darksaber.

foster • obi-wan kenobi Obi-Wan comes across an orphan named Din that he can’t help taking under his wing.

as it was • din djarin’s parents The living waters beneath Mandalore bring Din back to a place—and a people—he never thought he’d see again.

people watching • grogu Observation was a skill Din Djarin had mastered for his own safety, but now it sets the scene for his very own destruction.

main masterlist • series • drabbles • prompts

[lokischocolatefountain]

Guess

Fandom: Star Wars, The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Rating: PG13, fluff

Word count:

Summary: A game of guessing goes right in every way for you and Din, your kind of friend, sort of boss.

A/N: Day 1 of my fic advent calendar and my first Din Djarin fic on here! Credits to my friend @lokislittlevalkyrie for co-creating the reader character and for our long conversations about her and Din. Keep checking the advent calendar Masterlist for more fics dropping this month. And leave me a little comment to encourage me to keep the fics going 💜💜💜

“Stop scowling.”

“I’m not scowling,” he lied, trying his best to keep his tone neutral even though he was surprised that she knew he was scowling. Lucky guess, he told himself. But how many lucky guesses could one person have about his facial expressions?

“You so were!” She insisted, sinking further back into the novelty ‘chair’ she bought on their last stop. It was a sphere half filled with tiny soft particles that molded itself to the user’s shape. She slouched on it as she continued watching one of her holodramas, something with a murder or speeders (or both) at the heart of the story.

“I was not.”

“If you say so, Din Can,” she said, using her nickname for him. He chuckled reflexively, unable to control his responses to her. Thankfully, his helmet filtered the sound out, saving him the embarrassment of finding humor in the humiliating nickname. He smiled, glad she didn’t know just how many times she’d made him laugh whether by mocking him or making clever remarks in general.

“I do say so.”

She was beautiful. Taking up the creed meant hiding one’s own face from others. To hide what would serve as the basis of others’ first impression of you so that your valor and your character would serve as your defining features. Vanity was not something he was raised with. Yet he knew beauty when it stared him in the eye and called him Din Can everyday. Or Tin Djarin. Buckethead when he really pissed her off.

Dinny Bear when she was intoxicated.

Blood rushed to his cheek when he thought of the last time she did that. She’d gotten very comfortable around him in the months they’d been crew mates. All her initial jitters and jumpiness around him had gone and been replaced with her stubbornness, strange sense of humour, and a level of confidence she didn’t have with him before.

He had to chase her down to even get her to accept the job he was offering her as a travelling mechanic. He’d never heard of one before. And she was quite frightened of him after the kind of interaction they had at Peli’s shop. But he needed a mechanic on board. With the kid in his hands now, it became hard to juggle a failing ship with hunting bounties and caring for a mischievous kid who waited for the moment he took his eyes off him to cause chaos.

It helped to have a mechanic on board at all times. She was wonderful and came approved by Peli. Over time, she became more than his mechanic. A friend, he would be brave enough to say. If he were braver with women, he would say that he’s caught her sneaking glances at him. That he felt her twinkling eyes rove over his armor every now and then. Sometimes he was confident of it. At others, he convinced himself that his mind was clouded by his desire for her. By his desire for her to desire him too.

The matter of his expressions came up once again later after dinner.

“Stop looking so grumpy.”

“You cannot see my face.”

“Yeah but you look grumpy.”

He grunted, turning away from her to focus on the controls. They were on hyperspeed. There was nothing he needed to do with the controls. But to come face to face with her when she told him exactly what he did underneath his helmet was…too much.

“Heyy! Let’s play a game?” She asked, her voice bubbling with excitement.

“Play with Grogu.”

“He’s asleep. And this is not a game for little potatoes.”

He chuckled softly at the nickname and looked up at her again, awaiting her proposal. “What would that be?” He asked.

“A drinking game.”

“Drinking is a game now?”

“Dank farrik! I missed when you used to be quiet. Just listen to me. I’ll guess what your face looks like under your helmet and if I get it right, you should take a sip of your drink. And if I get it wrong, I take a sip. Let’s do it with the Silver Elixir,” she said, getting up from her seat to fetch the bottle from their liquor cabinet they kept locked to keep away from wandering little womp rats.

She returned with the bottle, two glasses and straws. They’d recently taken to drinking together. She bought him a straw a begged him to join her, using her sweet eyes and her adorable pout to convince him. She said she only had drinks with friends and that drinking alone on the razor crest made her feel lonely.

He gave in to her, just like he gave in to their little green crewmate.

She didn’t need to use a straw, of course. Yet she did. When he asked, she said it was so that he didn’t feel lonely drinking through a straw like a kid. Even in her insults, she managed to be sweet.

“Start guessing,” he said impatiently as she sat next to him and looked intently at their glasses to see if they were filled equally.

“Sure, sure… You have dark hair,” she said, passing his drink to him. “Dark brown.”

“A little too obvious, isn’t it?” He asked, knowing she had definitely seen his hair in the trash after he gave himself haircuts and shaved his facial hair.

“Drink up, old man!” She said, lips wide in a grin as she knew already that she was right.

He snorted, but followed through, taking a sip of the strong liquor. “Alright. Next.”

“You have….big green ears.”

“Wrong,” he huffed, smiling nevertheless at her sense of humour.

“Damn it! I should’ve known they wouldn’t fit inside the helmet,” she said, taking a sip. She was smiling too, and unlike his, it was out in the open and as bright as the stars around them.

“Those were two descriptors. Big and green. Take one more sip,” he argued. He didn’t particularly want to get her drunk, but he liked how adorable she was when intoxicated. One of their drinking sessions ended with her snuggling up to him because she couldn’t find the kid to snuggle like a children’s stuffed animal.

“What? No! It was one guess, so it’s one sip.”

“Again, you guessed the size and color of my ears and they were both wrong. Take a sip.”

She rolled her eyes, but complained, taking another sip. She leaned close and narrowed her eyes at him, as though focusing on his helmet would reveal what was underneath. He smiled unconsciously, taking in the beauty of her from up close. The light in her eyes, the way her eyebrows knit together when she was in deep thought, lips that impressed him with the wittiest remarks… Lips he wanted desperately to pull to his, to devour and make moan his name.

“No moustache.”

“Hmmm….” He hummed, thinking of how he could sort the point for this. He *did* have a moustache, but that was only now. There were times when he shaved it off completely. “It’s complicated. I have a moustache now, but I change it quite frequently. So, half a sip.”

“If I have to take half a sip, so should you.”

“No, I don’t,” he scoffed at her warped logic. Here he was, being nice and giving her some credit even though she was wrong. But she was trying to take advantage of it.

“Yeah you should. If I’m taking half a sip because I was half right and half wrong, you should also take a sip because you’re half right and half wrong.”

“No. That’s not how it works. I have facial hair now, which means you are wrong. I should’ve made you take a full sip, but I decided to make a concession because I am sometimes fully shaven.”

“Dank Farrik! You’re such a lightweight. Just say you can’t handle your liquor and I’ll let you go,” she taunted, a smirk plying at her lips.

“Oh please, I can handle my liquor much better than you can. Here,” he said, drinking the strong undiluted alcohol like it was water in a few big sips. He slammed the glass against the control panel surface and shrugged. “See, I’m good. You are the one who gets drunk after one portion of the Silver Elixir and terrorizes the kid.”

She gasped, as though he made a much bigger accusation. “I don’t terrorize the kid! I just give him extra cuddles and kisses. He enjoys them very much. It’s called affection, Tin Can. Ever heard of it?”

He tilted his head at her in the way that sometimes made her swallow audibly. “So you think that because of my way of life, I have never experienced affection?”

She opened and closed her mouth quickly, as though her mind and lips were in disagreement about whether or not what they were about to say was appropriate. He smiled under his helmet, proud of himself for stumping her. She talked a lot. Since he was a quiet man, everyone else was talkative in comparison. But she was the voice he heard the most as they lived together on the Razor Crest and their other occupant communicated mostly in coos and squeals.

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Say what. Since the drinking thing was already disproportionate anyway because I’m not guessing your features and I can handle my liquor much better than you do….lets change the rules.” He took a deep breath, afraid of the consequences of his words but unable to miss this opportunity. “For each correct guess you make, I’ll give you a kiss.”

“You’re kidding,” she said, scoffing.

“I’m not known for my humor.”

She took a deep breath and looked directly into his eyes, making his heart skip a beat. Kriff, the things she did without even knowing! He thought he could die from the anticipation of hearing her next guess. Would she guess something ridiculous like big green ears to make sure she doesn’t have to kiss him? Or would she make a very obviously correct guess?

“You have…” she trailed in a softer voice, looking at him almost coyly. “…pink lips.”

Not the most obvious guess. Not all humans had pink lips. And he could easily not be human. He didn’t remember telling her he was… But if she was going for something for a higher likelihood of being correct… Kriff he hoped she was. “Do you want me to turn the lights off or blindfold you?” He asked, conveying indirectly that she was right.

“Wh-whaaat? Why?” She sputtered, looking at him with those pretty eyes, vulnerability brimming in her expressions.

Did he get the wrong idea? Maybe her obvious guesses weren’t because she wanted to be right so she could kiss him… Maybe it was just the product of her usual playful nature.

“Because I will have to take my helmet off when I kiss you,” he proceeded to say, even as his heart beat faster with the anxiety of how this could go. They were adults. It it was a misunderstanding, he would simply get over it and do his best to not make it awkward between them. “And you cannot see me.”

“I…” she trailed off before letting out a nervous laugh. “I didn’t think you were serious.”

“Again. Not known for my humor,” he said, letting a smile seep into his words. She was so kriffing adorable, looking all nervous like a blurrg stuck in a doorway. “You don’t have to, of course. I can give you something else. Ten credits, perhaps?”

“What, no. A deal is a deal.”

“Then tell me, my dear mechanic. Lights out or blindfold?”

“Lights out.”

Pity. He was hoping to see her pretty face when he kissed her. Not moving from where he was, he pressed the buttons on the control panel, turning all the lights out. In the pitch black of outer space, he could see nothing. Perfect.

“What can you see?” He asked, just to be sure.

“Nothing,” she said, in her voice so low and soft that it was swallowed up by the darkness. What entity wouldn’t want to swallow up something his pretty mechanic put out? Every word she said, every touch of her fingers against the trees and rocks and flowers. If he were air, he would luxuriate in her scent. If he were water, he would caress her skin and play with her hair as he cleansed her. If he were fire, he would creep into her skin, warm her up when she needed. But he was nothing but man. So, he would have to satisfy himself with a kiss from her lips.

“Are you sure?” She asked as he stepped forward to her.

“I am. Are *you* sure?”

There was silent for a moment before she said, “Yes. Kiss me.”

Needing nothing else, he took his helmet off and placed it carefully on his seat. His heart thudded against his ribs, and his breaths grew labored. And he hadn’t even touched her yet.

In all his years, he had never kissed anyone. It was not part of the culture of his people what with the metal barriers that kept them from it. He remembered the sweet kisses on his forehead and cheeks from before he took the creed. But that was not what his heart desired. He wanted the kind of thing she watched on her holopad, all the holodramas with characters who showed their desire through an intense kiss that left their partner speechless.

He reached forward and found her hand. She gasped softly, the quietness of the ship letting him in on her soft sounds. He caressed up her arm, enjoying the slight tremble of her skin beneath the tips of his fingers. He stopped at her neck and allowed himself to cradle it in his hand. He felt her lean closer and he reciprocated, taking the final step. He tilted his head to his right feeling that she tilted to her right.

As he closed the gap between them, he felt her warm breath on his skin. He swallowed, his lips parting from how nervous he was. What if he was no good? What if he didn’t have good breath? What if he’s such a bad kisser that she— he gasped softly as she pressed her lips against his. In an instant, she quietened the sounds his head. The fast beating of his heart, he realized was now from the effect of proximity to her more than his insecurities.

She placed one hand on his shoulder and wrapped her other arm around his waist. He let out a shaky breath at the intimacy of their contact and let his other hand trail down her back. She pressed herself closer against his beskar clad chest, making him wish he had the forethought to toss that bit of his armor too. He wanted to feel her. Every bit of her that she was offering up to him like she truly believed he was deserving.

Her lips were soft, just as he’d dreamt them to be. He’d never kissed before. It was an act saved for married couples in the covert, as only your spouse could see you with your helmet off. He had married friends who waxed poetry about the magic of kissing. How they felt like nothing and nobody mattered other than your partner. How it turned you into putty in their hands. He thought it was exaggerated… Until now.

He cupped her cheek, her face fitting in his hand and making him feel a new sense of protectiveness towards her. He’d protected her before, sure, but this felt different. This was something to do with a need to be gentle with her. To cherish her and treasure her. She licked his lips and he parted them instinctively, letting her tongue between his lips. He shuddered as her fingers threaded through his hair. He whimpered and pulled her closer to himself in the moment of vulnerability, using her as a crutch to support him. He’d never been touched like that before…

Her fingers explored his hair and he allowed himself to relax in his arms, even letting himself give her comforting caresses of her back. He felt her melt into his arms as their kiss deepened. She tasted of the silver elixir first, but when they were both a little along the way, he began to taste something that was distinctly her. Something sweet, mixing with the fragrance of her citrusy perfume to further dull his senses.

It was soft, but electrifying. He poured his passions into the kiss, exploring her with his tongue and luxuriating in the sweet little whimpers she let out. The technicalities stopped mattering. He was here, holding the girl he’d been pining for, lips connected as the unlikely result of a stupid game. That moment was all that mattered and her sounds of satisfaction told him that he wasn’t doing so bad after all.

She pulled back in a while and they let out the breaths they’d be holding. She let out a laugh and he smiled, comforted by her job. He didn’t even know he’d been holding his breath. He’d forgetting the necessity for breathing as he found her lips.

“You have…a big nose,” she said, confusing him.

“Huh?” He asked, his mind still clouded from her kiss.

“I get another kiss if I’m right, Dim Djarin,” she teased, pointing to his obliviousness when it came to things of this nature.

“Right,” he said, grinning as he kissed her again. He needed to play games with her more often.

[oliviajdjarin]

Din Djarin: You, Me, and the Stars

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

Excerpt: “You leaned up onto your elbows to look down at him, the both of you knowing what came next. Dribbles of rain became more and more frequent upon your head, beginning to soak into your scalp, but you couldn’t feel anything else besides the excitement in your chest and the metal of your husband against your warm body. Drops of rain began to hit his helmet as well, sliding down the sides and collecting within his visor.

How long had it been since he felt a drop of rain on his skin?

He had to have noticed the desire in your eyes to complete what you had started as he covered your hands with his and pulled them up to the sharp edge of his helmet. ‘Go on, riduur,’ he whispered, ‘I’m not afraid anymore.’”

Warnings: This isn’t all SMUT, but there is a little. Reader and Din get married. Kissing, lovemaking, references to past sex, insecurities, swearing, crying, so much yearning, definitely incorrect Mandalorian marriage customs, Din gets shy when you compliment him.

A/N: This is one of my favorite fic genres for Din, I have wanted to write it for years, and many authors have done their own versions of it. I am not attempting to plagiarize or copy any of their amazing work. This is purely me wanting to do my own version on an already incredible idea.

A/N 2: Episode 1: The Apostate are we fucking kidding.

Word Count: 3k

Pedro Masterlist

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated <3

(gif from pinterest)

His gloved hand had made its way to rest against your bare hip bone, twitching every few seconds in his sleep, effectively sending chills down your spine every time. This kept you from having any sleep of your own. 

You didn’t mind, not with the expanse of your Mandalorian in bed next to you, who was nothing short of breathtaking.

The lamplight washed over the metal, soaking him in a wave of sun and fire. His body facing yours gave the lighting all the more canvas to paint, stretching over the deep black of his visor, the brown of his cape, and the orange of his gloves. His body was glowing--basking-- in that cheap lamp you bartered for on Nevarro. He had rolled his eyes underneath all that glistening glory, you could tell by the way his head tilted back ever so slightly, and muttered to himself about its uselessness, thinking you didn’t notice. 

But you did. 

You noticed everything about him--how he moves intentionally, watches carefully, talks authoritatively...

...and groans uncontrollably when he sinks his gloved fingers inside of you.

Besides, you didn’t get the shitty lamp to see the Crest’s controls better, or find Grogu better in the dark, or even find a snack in the middle of the night. You got it for this--this post-sex euphoric haze that came over you every time he made you finish, the need to drink him up with your eyes, to observe him in is most untaught state, to witness as much of him as you possibly could, while truly seeing nothing at all.

It was right then, only for a few sinful, pathetic moments, that for the first time, the desire to see him--truly look at him--overpowered any and all of your rational thoughts. The left side of your brain was crying out at you to stop, remember his Creed, remember how much you respect it, while the right side of your brain took the opportunity to pummel your brain with everything you had been depriving yourself of for months.

How would it feel to wake up to his face every morning, see his eyes crinkle from a smile, his teeth peek out of his lips, his scruff beginning to grow in. How would he look, exactly--brown eyes or blue, or green, or hazel? Darkened skin or light, full lips or thin, thick hair or thin. 

It scared you how little it mattered, but how badly you wanted to know.

How would his eyebrows squeeze together when he focused, his tongue pop out from his lips as he was thinking, or his laugh--one of his true laughs--sound without that fucking modulator. Would it be as dry as it always sounded, or would the extra oxygen in his lungs breathe life into it. Would he have dimples? Wrinkles? Endless freckles, or only a few. You hoped he had enough for you to memorize. 

Would his skin be soft or rough? How calloused would his diligent hands be, or would your theory that he had a soft spot for hand lotion finally be proven true. How much did his muscles flex underneath all that armor? How sculped would he be, after carrying all that weight for all that time? 

Would he let you be the first to find out?

Your free hand began moving on its own accord, slowly bringing itself up to trace a line down the front of its vizor, trying to convince itself that yes, that was skin you were feeling. That was body heat, and pores, and scruff, and lips, and a pulse underneath all that muscle. You traced his helmet so gently and so quickly that it was mere seconds before you were pulling away, feeling the exhaustion from the night’s previous activities beginning to hit you all at once. Your eyes were fluttering shut, and with one last kiss to his metallic, bitter-tasting shoulder, you were out. Out quickly enough and deep enough for you to miss Din’s whisper in reply, brushing a lock of hair from your forehead.

“One day, mesh’la. One day.”

                                                            ~*~

That day had finally come.

Din’s gloved hand in yours was the only thing keeping your mind tied down to the forests of Sorgan. You were finally--finally--going to swear to the man you loved that you would love him forever, and he would to you, for all his days. 

Luckily for you, Peli was kind enough to keep the kid safe on Tattooine while you and Din headed off. Din was adamant that the ceremony be special, not some random day on the Razor Crest, but on a star-filled night on Sorgan. 

“That’s how I want it,” he had told you after days of pestering him, “just you, me, and the stars.”

Frankly, you just wanted him. 

He led you up a small hill that led to a cleared-out field, stretching farther than you could see, and your pulse beat louder and louder as you took each step. You could only imagine how he was feeling underneath all that armor, what shade his eyes turned when he was nervous, and how you would react when you finally knew the answer.

The night air cooled you as you made your way to the top of the hill, Din guiding you to the flattest and clearest spot. He was a quiet man--always listening, always watching--but he was being abnormally quiet as you made your way to the designated spot. The creatures in the trees chirping and buzzing filled the anxious air for you. 

Finally, Din stopped and faced you, taking both of your hands into his own. He gazed at you intensely, and you met it straight on. “You’re sure about this?”

You smiled softly, letting the love shine through in your eyes, and nodded. “Yes.” 

He exhaled a sigh with undertones of emotions that you couldn’t quite place, and immediately started peeling the weapons off his body, one by one, placing them gently in the grass. He started with his spear, pulling it from its carrier with a familiar shling. He traced it with his palm before setting it down, and moving to his weapons belt, removing every artillery he had. Dispensing his whistling birds into the dirt, delicately. He stripped himself of any and every bit of his arsenal. 

“This is the first step,” he said as he worked, “to prove that you can trust me, and to deny any ill-intent on my part.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the thought that he had already done this step in your shared bedroom. Every night. Without fail. 

Once he finished, he took his hands in yours again, pulling you near. His hands had a slight shake to them, so you squeezed them tighter. 

“Are you afraid, Din?” you whispered over the buzzing insects. 

He said nothing as he squeezed your hands back, only breathed slowly as he looked into your eyes. You brought his hands up to your mouth and pecked his leathered knuckles, looking into his star-glazed helmet. “It’s just me and you.”

He exhaled again, but this time, you knew it was out of relief, and maybe even...excitement.

“Okay,” he whispered, his forehead inches from your own now. “Then let’s do this.”

You smiled so wide your cheeks ached. “Okay.”

Din chuckled slightly before looking down and widening his feet to match up with the length of his shoulders. He straightened up to his fullest height, allowing the stars to shimmer on his beskar that much more, causing the pounding of your heart to echo louder and louder in your skull. 

You were really fucking doing this.

“Now we say the vows,” Din said, sounding out of breath. “I know you know them, but for a Mandalorian and a...non-Mandalorian...it’s tradition for the latter to repeat them back to the Mandalorian. It symbolizes your full understanding of the Creed, as well as your full acceptance of it.”

You nodded, gulping, and mimicked his stanse--strong, confident, ready. The trees around you swayed in the wind as Din gathered his breath. 

“Repeat after me,” he began, taking a second to rub his thumb over your knuckles. “Ready?”

“Ready.” 

Din’s voice steadied as he said, “Mhi solus tome.”

“Mhi solus tome.”

“Mhi solus dar’tome.”

“Mhi solus dar’tome.”

“Mhu me’dinui an.”

“Mhi me'dinui an.”

“Mhi ba’juri verde.”

“Mhi bar’juri verde.”

With a newfound shakiness in his voice, Din continued, stating them in your familiar tongue, “We are one when together, we are one when parted.” 

“We are one when together, we are one when parted.”

“We will share all, we will raise warriors.” 

“We will share all, we will raise warriors.”

The birds chirped, the insects buzzed, and one drop of rain landed on the top of Din’s helmet as he said, “We’re married.”

You didn’t hesitate to immediately jump into his arms, effectively bringing the most feared bounty hunter to the ground with you. 

Tears lined your eyes as you laughed in pure ecstasy, your brain unable to process that the man in your arms was finally your riduur. Not your partner, not your boyfriend, not just your husband, your riduur. He was yours now, infinitely, endlessly, above space and time, and you were his. Din laughed loudly in your arms, just as filled with joy as you were, and you could have sworn that noise filled the hole in your heart that had been sore and empty all your life. 

You leaned up onto your elbows to look down at him, the both of you knowing what came next. Dribbles of rain became more and more frequent upon your head, beginning to soak into your scalp, but you couldn’t feel anything else besides the excitement in your chest and the metal of your husband against your warm body. Drops of rain began to hit his helmet as well, sliding down the sides and collecting within his visor. 

How long had it been since he felt a drop of rain on his skin?

He had to have noticed the desire in your eyes to complete what you had started as he covered your hands with his and pulled them up to the sharp edge of his helmet. “Go on, riduur,” he whispered, “I’m not afraid anymore.” 

And with that, you lifted the visor from his face, carefully, using all your willpower to not shut your eyes at even a peak at his skin. Your hands shook as you lifted and your heart clogged your throat as the man you had sworn to protect, kissed until you were dizzy, and shared the darkest, most shameful parts of your being with finally hit your eyes.

Your first thought when your eyes ultimately discovered their deepest desire was that you had married the most beautiful man alive.

A blanket of thick, dark brown curls covered the top of his head, framing his face. His skin was a golden tan, highlighting his cheekbones and pink, plump lips that you had kissed so many times. His face was further framed by dark eyebrows and sculpted facial hair, as well as a prominent, strong nose. It was counteracted by a soft jawline and big, brown eyes. They were darker than you expected, an almost black, but slightly glazed by surrealness of this moment. Raindrops began to soak the curls atop his head and drip into his slightly opened mouth, drawing your attention to the one thing you were most excited about.

A small freckle, right below his chin. One of your favorite spots to kiss in the darkness of your bunk. It was just sitting there, waiting for you to memorize.

 You realized soon after that the raindrops dribbling onto his cheeks weren’t rain at all, but a mixture of both his tears and yours. You let out a chuckle of disbelief. He was right here, right in front of you. Just how you had always wanted him to be. 

You brushed his tears away as you whispered, “Ner riduur cuyir mesh’la.”

It turns out his eyes do crinkle when he smiles.

“That’s what you were practicing the other night?” he asked, his voice dripping with honey free from the modulator. You nodded. 

He smiled wider, brushing your soaked hair from your forehead, “Ner riduur cuyir mesh’la bat brilliant.”

You couldn’t help the giggle you released at his words, nor could you prevent your lips colliding with his own. It was better than any kiss you had ever shared before. 

He sighed into it as he kissed you back, the most relaxed and full of life as you had ever felt him kiss you, yet he exuded passion. His tongue caressed yours within seconds, bringing you as close to him as he possibly could. You ran your hands everywhere you possibly could--through his hair, down his neck, under his chest piece, over his cheeks. He groaned when you discovered how easy it was to scratch your nails into his hair and his scruff without the fear of opening your eyes, and you had to pull away to smile. 

“I can’t stop looking at you,” you whispered, moving your kisses to the column down his neck. You felt it heat up with a blush.

“Neither can I,” he whispered, and maker his voice. His throat vibrated against your lips as he spoke. “I knew you’d be beautiful without my sensors, but I wasn’t ready for how beautiful.”

He pushed you closer to his neck as you hit his favorite spot, nibbling down just how he liked. His large hands were suddenly off of you, and a rustle of leather later, they were back on your body, gloveless. You whined into his ear when you finally felt that yes, he was obsessed with hand lotion, and his soft hands massaged into your scalp. 

The rain poured harder and harder in the darkness as you and Din kissed and stroked and loved on each other. You eventually reached down to his pants, sliding your fingers down underneath. In previous years, he would fuck you, but the armor stayed on. The most skin you got to feel was his dick and his face, but both were a rarity. His goal was always to make you scream and come all over him, but now you wanted more. You wanted to drown him in your mouth and body.

“I’m on a drink,” you whispered into his mouth, feeling his happy trail against the pads of your fingers, “if you want.”

His skin and hair were soaked, but his eyes and muscles were suddenly awake, widening in excitement. “Yes,” he nodded, almost profusely, “yes.”

You pulled back and traced a line down his face, just like you did that fateful night in your bunk, only this time, you didn’t have to imagine the heat of his skin, or the look in his eyes as you pulled his pants down and yours to the side. 

“Look at me,” he whispered suddenly as you lined yourself up, and you obliged. “I love you, Y/N. More than anything. More than my Creed, more than my life.”

You smiled, and kissed him. “I know.”

And you slid him inside of you. 

You and Din had done this before, but never enough times for you to remember what it felt like. It was a surprise to you every time, without fail, how perfectly his curve fit into you, like you were molded and crafted for one another. His girth filled you fully, threatening to flutter your eyes shut, but you kept them open. You wanted to see his face as he entered you, see his eyebrows etch together, his mouth pop open, and his Adam’s apple bob.

He really was beautiful. 

The rain soaked through your clothes as you moved, keeping your mouth either on his or on his face the entire time, listening to his groans and whines for more. 

“Just like that riduur fuck yeah,” he got louder and louder as he spoke, “that’s it. You’re perfect at this. At everything.” 

You grinned, whispering, “you look so fucking good right now,” and proceeded to suck a hickey onto his neck.

“Stop,” he said with a chuckle, and you laughed back, marking him as yours. He sucked a few onto your collarbone soon after. 

You rocked and rocked and squeezed onto him just the way he liked, getting lost in the feeling of the cool rain, his warm dick, his glorious face, and the stars in the sky, that you nearly missed his squeezes on your arm. 

“I’m close,” he whispered, suddenly creeping his hand up your thigh, “I’m so close.”

“Fill me up, riduur,” you whispered, “I want to feel you for days dripping out of--”

Your breath caught as his soft finger rubbed on your clit just right, causing you to squeeze on him so deliciously. He went, and you went seconds after at the feeling of his warmth inside of you. He had never gone this far. Not once.

You practically collapsed on top of him, letting him massage your hair and rub your back as you both came down, down, down. You pressed your nose into his neck, smelling his skin. The rain made his usual lemon scented three-in-one that much more pungent.

The both of you sat in silence for a few moments, letting the last of the rain dribble down on you, your heartrates steady, and your brain process the fact that everything about that moment was pure and real and just an inkling of the rest of your lives. The rain slowly came to a stop, and Din chuckled, making you chuckle. 

“So now it stops,” he laughed, and you sat up to meet his eyes. 

“I liked it. You look hot in the rain.” 

He looked down with a blush on his face, “Good, because you look freezing.”

You hadn’t noticed your teeth beginning to chatter. “I’m fine.” 

He shook his head and lifted you off of him, your mewl at his exit from your body borderline pathetic, and kept you lifted with one arm while he pulled up his pants with the other. He helped you pull up yours before positioning you bridal style in his arms as he began the walk back to the Crest. 

“Din, your helmet, and your things--”

“Don’t need them,” he whispered as he walked, holding you close to his chest. “Not around you. Not anymore.”

Mando’a Translations: 

“Ner riduur cuyir mesh’la.” -- My riduur is beautiful.

“Ner riduur cuyir mesh’la bat brilliant.” -- My riduur is beautiful and brilliant.

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[yukipri]

May the 4th Be With You!!!

2022 edition✨

~~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, EDIT, TRANSLATE, OR OTHERWISE USE MY ART. To share, please reblog! Reblogs and comments greatly appreciated!!!

❀ You can see the rest of my art through the Masterpost pinned to the top of my blog!

[skiitter]

Chapter Six! Synthsilk gloves, a posh party aboard a starliner, and a touch-starved Din spiraling at the barest amount of human contact can be found therein.

[liontalon1]

I purposefully didn’t include fan hated characters like Rey or Jar Jar because this is about actual evilness not being annoying.

[phoenixkaptain]

Gotta be honest, the idea that Luke wouldn’t send a child alone in an X-wing with only a droid for company is funny to me.

Like, we’re talking about the same Luke, right? The one who spent years bulls-eyeing womp rats and took the experience from that to then blow up the Death Star? The one who was like “This is a trap… I’m gonna walk right into it.” The one who was like “I will rescue my dear friend by waltzing in without a disguise and being as obnoxious as possible.” “How do we get out of this situation? How about we convince these small bear creatures that our droid is a god, that will probably work.” “I know Darth Vader is a murderer who murdered my Ben and is trying to murder me and all, but he is also my dad and therefore I love him.”

Luke would send a child in an X-wing without even fucking thinking about it! Do you REALLY think LUKE SKYWALKER is a reasonable human being?? Are you honestly trying to tell me that this man who has been driving the same fucking ship for like ten years would understand how dangerous it is to put an unsupervised child in a vehicle??? Do you really honestly truly think that Luke knows how to care for children????

You see, a lot of people like to portray Luke as perfect. And this is the same issue I have with people who portray Obi-Wan as perfect, or Yoda, or Mace, or literally any character in all of Star Wars because the whole point is that the are flawed human beings!

But it’s ESPECIALLY egregrious with Luke because I don’t know where any of you got this idea that Luke is a sweet summer child??? This man has a death count of over one million. This man had Seen Some Shit that it is literally impossible not to be affected by. Why do so many people assume that Luke at the end of the Trilogy is the same as Luke at the beginning of the Trilogy? He’s changed! He’s a different person! That’s what makes the Original Trilogy such a good trilogy!! It’s basic storytelling!!! A character canNOT be at the same place mentally as when they began the story, or else it’s not a good story!

But also, I hate the way this colours shipping fics with Luke. Like, listen. There is no ship where Luke should be the straightman of the relationship. Luke Skywalker just is not normal. He’s weird, he’s deranged, he’s so strange; he cannot be a straightman, it just doesn’t work. It’s so completely out of character it isn’t even funny.

The joy of shipping Luke is that every single thing that you can ship Luke with will come out the other sode looking rational.

Han Solo is a smuggler who hangs out with a Wookiee and who does extremely dangerous, stupid shit, but next to Luke?? Rational. Normal. Someone who uses their brain, Luke, take notes-

Din Djarin is a bounty hunter who decided that he would rather destroy an entire group of highly dangerous men than give up the cute kid he just found. But compared to Luke? At least he has equipment on him!

Mara Jade literally was mind-controlled by the Emperor and was Darth Vader’s coworker and was also a Jedi (something that no rational person would be honestly) and even she comes across as normal compared to Luke Skywalker.

I know this is rambly and disjointed and I know people disagree with me, but like??? Yes, I think Luke is great with kids. Yes, I think Luke is a good teacher. Yes, I think Luke is the type of person to wave goodbye as an infant flies off in his warship. I think Luke is the type of person who would throw a child into the air way too high and then catch them. Where did the idea that he’s the responsible parent come from? Luke is teaching infants how to use laser swords, do you REALLY THINK that’s what a responsible parent would do????

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Hi! Sorry, I'm new here 😊 congrats on your follower milestone!!

May I please request prompts 17 and 34 with my beloved Sergeant, Hunter? 🥰🥰

Thank you so much! Looking forward to seeing what you come up with 💜

@photogirl894 Hello love,

I know I said I'd probably wouldn't have time today, but turns out I had enough time to write this one out quickly. I hope you like it. I actually quite enjoyed this one.

Love oo,

Too Close

Warnings: Explosions, blaster fire, falling from a height, injuries, blood, shrapnel, medical procedure, angst, fluff, comfort, hurt. I think that's it, if I miss any please let me know.

Italics - Flashback

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Hunter let out a sigh of relief as you both made it on board the Marauder. His eyes flitted over to your face, you were still unconscious, knocked out from the loss of blood, you’d be stirring soon according to Tech, but it wasn’t making his anxiety calm down. He couldn’t help wondering if there was something he could’ve done differently.

The fog from the explosions, dust and debris was getting beyond bearable, you couldn’t stop coughing as you hid behind the cargo crate. Your helmet had been shattered when you smashed it against the ground when your rappelling cable broke. Thankfully it was only when you were eight feet from the ground, but it could’ve been much worse than a broken helmet. 

Of course, it didn’t help that you were stuck hiding behind the crate with Hunter, because a piece of shrapnel embedded itself in your thigh, and was doing little to hamper the loss of blood. They always tell you to leave the shrapnel in, until you saw a medic, but at this point, you’d be lucky to just see the next twenty minutes. 

You pushed down hard on the wound, Hunter’s bandana doing little to help as he tried to wrap it around your thigh. 

“Hunter, leave me” you shouted over the explosions and blaster fire. These Separatist droids weren’t backing down. 

“Stop talking, it’ll make you pass out faster.”

“Hunter please!” You grabbed the lip of his chest plate and got him to look at you, “I can’t see you dying. So please, go!”

“I’m not dying and neither are you so stop distracting me and press on the wound!” His hand engulfed your thigh pressing down hard, stopping the trickle of blood that had pooled under your thigh. 

Before you could speak another rain of debris showered over you, Hunter pulled you under him as he shielded you with his torso. “Please… I can’t … I can’t see you get hurt because of me.” You pleaded to the man who held your heart and soul, your eyes welled up with tears as you looked at him, “Please, Hunt …”

His eyes widened, it was a nickname you reserved for him only during your quiet time together, only in the privacy of your quarters did you ever call him Hunt. You must have been in a really bad shape if his nickname slipped through your lips. 

“No! Listen, I don't care what happens to me. I'm not leaving you." He pressed his helmeted forehead against yours, as his now bloodied glove caressed your cheek, “I won’t. Now stay alive and stay awake. That’s all you have to do, Tech will get us out of here. So DON’T DIE ON ME! THAT’S AN ORDER SOLDIER!”

You chuckled at his demeanour, loving him all the more, “Yes, sir!” You saluted. 

He chuckled and focused back on the droids in front of him. He sent another ping to Tech, time was running out, he needed to get you to a medical facility soon. 

His eyes glanced back over to you, you were starting to stir. Your eyes fluttered open, as they looked around the Marauder for him, he gripped your hand, “Easy, easy. You’re safe.” His soft tone calmed you down. 

You squeezed his hand, as you looked him over, “Injuries?”

Hunter closed his eyes and shook his head, “I’m fine. Tech stopped the bleeding on your thigh and removed the shrapnel. We’re heading to a medical frigate now, you’ll be as good as new in a few days.” His hand reached up as the back of his fingers caressed your cheek. You closed your eyes and leaned into his hand.

“You didn’t leave.”

“I couldn’t.”

“But you could’ve been…”

“If you die, I’ll die right beside you. I’m not leaving you. Ever.”

You looked at him with a loving smile, and full of adoration in your eyes.

“What?” He chuckled.

You shook your head, as you looked at him smiling softly, “I just wanted to say thank you for protecting me.” You pressed a kiss to his fingers, “And that I love you.”

“I love you. But don’t ever do that to me again.” Tears welled up in his eyes, “I thought I was going to lose you out there…” his tone shifted as his breathing trembled, “I can’t lose you cyar’ika. I … I can’t …”

“Shhh, come here” You motioned for him to rest his head on your shoulder, as you hugged him close. It wasn’t the first time you’ve been injured but it certainly had been the closest you’ve ever been to shaking hands with death. You both held each other close, reminding each other you were still there. 

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[wrathkitty]

Short Debts Make Long Friends - Chapter 19 (part 1)

Chapter 19: I Don't Need to See Your Face; I Just Need You to Help Me Pretend

This is the big leagues? you were wondering as you followed Mando down the stairs to meet the man himself. This wasn’t even your worst Black Friday, when some asshole decoupaged all the dressing rooms with Christmas-themed hentai and you had to explain to your very, very sheltered manager why the tentacles were wearing Santa hats. 

But then Kaba happened, and everything surpassed all the Black Fridays, and your worst nightmares, too.

One minute, the porcine-faced Klatoonian was casually seated at his desk and weighing his options; the next, Mando had shoved you behind him and yelled, “Go!” over his shoulder.

This was your first chance to see the Darksaber in action, but you didn’t need to be told twice. As Kaba’s goons descended, you and D-5 had run for the exit, with full intention of booking it to the usual rendezvous point at the transit station.

You were halfway to the door when you heard it. You knew the sounds Mando made during a fight. Every grunt, every hiss and yelp, even the occasional curse that meant he’d been hurt. 

You had never heard that sound from him before. 

Autopilot clicked into gear, knocking self-doubt right out of the driver’s seat. 

You bolted back the way you came, instantly zeroing in the source of Mando’s agonized cry as soon as you ducked through the transparent strips of curtain – the patch of scorched, glowing flesh on his leg that should have been really well-done CGI, except you knew better.

Short Debts Make Long Friends - An overeducated, underpaid millennial finally gets to go on her first adventure.

Anyone who reblogs gets a DM with a future snippet of their choice! (Humor, angst, sexyfuntimes.) You know you wanna...

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