#because PROTECTIVE BAR FIGHT DIN | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

millersdjarin · 1 year

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in these trying times

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: G (all audiences, but my blog is always 18+)

Word Count: 2.7k

Tags/Warnings: diabetes, hypoglycaemia, almost-fainting, protective!din, secrets, food

Masterlist & Request Info

Based on this request! ❤️

It’s reckless, and you know it. Din would be furious if he knew what you were keeping from him; you’d be furious with him if he kept something so important about his health from you. Something that, as his partner, you should definitely know.

But it’s for the best. It was hard enough for Din to open himself up to the possibility of having a partner, both romantically and in the field, and he doesn’t need a reason to worry about you, not after he’s finally gotten over his anxieties. You’ve had this for years, and it’s under control; it has been for a long time. There’s no need to worry him unnecessarily. It doesn’t get in the way or change how you work, how well you fight.

Life has been busy. There are always people after Din; people who haven’t got the memo yet that the kid is no longer wanted by the Empire. And, on top of that, you’re working for the New Republic, and there are always jobs that need done.

Meals get skipped. Snacks are the last thing on Din’s mind. Not on yours; you sneak ration bars to missions and munch them down whenever you get chance.

Din catches you eating one when you’re rushing down an alleyway back towards the ship, Imperials on your heels.

He looks at you and almost stops in his tracks, confusion evident in his body language even though you can’t see his face. “Where did you get that?” He asks. “Why are you eating it now?”

You shove the last mouthful in your mouth and grimace at the feeling of your partially-full stomach jostling around as you run. It’s better than the feeling of a low blood sugar, but still, not exactly pleasant. A needs must, you suppose. “I’m hungry,” you say to him, like that should be enough of an excuse.

It’s not. “We don’t have time to have a picnic right now,” Din protests gruffly. The two of you reach the end of the alleyway, and as you stop at the opening to the street, Din turns back, shoots the two Imps on your tail in two quick blasts, sending them to the floor. “We can eat later.”

You’re five klicks from the ship. You won’t make it ’til later. He doesn’t need to know that.

Shoving the wrapper into your pants pocket, you shoot him a confident grin. “It’s not like these Imps are making it difficult,” you say with a shrug of a shoulder, “they’re making it a picnic for us.”

More footsteps approach from behind you. Three stormtroopers are rushing forwards, lifting their blasters.

So, not so much of a picnic.

But it’s fine. Din drops it; maybe because he’s too busy fighting off the enemies dropping down from the surrounding roofs to question why you felt the need for a little snack mid-fight.

It happens again when you’re trying to lay low in a market town as you hunt for your target. Din is on a nearby roof, watching you through his rifle scope. You’re trying to sift through the crowd unnoticed, a piece of beige fabric covering your head, helping you blend in with the residents, when you notice your hands start to shake.

It’s been a few hours since you last ate. There wasn’t time on the way here to stop and grab something.

You don’t have to test your blood to know you’re getting low; you need some sugar right kriffing now or this is going to go South pretty fast.

There are some credits in your pocket and a fruit stand across the street. Casually, you head over, reaching for the credits and handing them over as you approach the vendor.

“What are you doing?” Din’s voice in your ear asks, doubly modulated through the comms.

You don’t answer him; you can’t without blowing your cover. Instead you just select some produce—a handful of berries that you know are good for sudden lows, and a bottle of pure juice—and offer the vendor a friendly smile. You open the bottle straight away, take several gulps before starting on the berries, holding them out in the palm of your hand.

“Is this part of your cover?” Din asks. He knows you can’t answer him. “You’re supposed to be blending in.”

Stop asking me fucking questions and maybe I will, you think to yourself as you drink up half the bottle of juice in ten seconds.

“The target’s here for limited time,” Din reminds you, sounding impatient and confused as to your sudden interest in snacking in the midst of a hunt. “We have to move.”

It’s fine, you want to tell him. I’m still headed in the right direction.

You get the target just fine despite your close brush with a low. Din doesn’t ask you about it later.

So, it’s never really got in the way.

Except, now it is.

Dank fucking farrik, now it is.

Despite the fact that you’ve gotten pretty good at sneaking in extra shots or ration bars in the midst of battles, today, you haven’t had chance to stop for even a second.

And now your vision is blurring, your head is spinning, and your legs are starting to give out beneath you.

Right when a bunch of syndicate soldiers are closing in on both of you in the middle of a forest clearing. Right when Din needs you to be on your shit, to be there for him; right when he puts the most trust in you.

The last thing you remember thinking before falling to your knees is that you’ve let him down.

He calls your name from across the clearing, concern and confusion evident in his voice. There’s a mercenary headed straight for you; you can only just see through the black, blurry tunnel around your vision, can barely focus on anything other than the racing of your heart and the cold sweat beading on your forehead. Din is fighting off his own group of enemies and you can’t lift your arms, can’t reach for your blaster. You can barely hear anything, but you vaguely register the shot of a blaster headed your way, the bright shine of a Beskar-covered man diving in front of you, a blaster bolt hitting the metal with a loud clang.

Din’s saying your name once all the bodies have dropped. There’s no more threat from enemies, but he sounds more worried than ever, breathing fast through his modulator as he pulls you into his lap. He’s asking what’s wrong, if you can hear him, if you’re hurt.

You try to pull yourself up, but the weakness is too much.

“Sugar,” you say breathily, feeling like your throat is shaking with your hands. “I need—food. It’s—blood sugar.”

“What?” Din questions, sounding more confused. He presses something on his vambrace, then holds it up to scan your body. Something shines red on your vitals. “I don’t—we don’t have any rations. The ship is a few klicks away, can you walk—?”

You shake your head. “I—I need it faster, if we walk back…”

Din’s concern is only growing as he nods with understanding. He puts his arm under your leg, the other around your back, and lifts you up. “Can you hold on?”

“I’m—” Lifting your arms around his neck, you manage to grasp your hands together over his back, just barely hanging on with trembling fingers. “So weak, Din…”

“It’s alright. I’ve got you. I’m gonna fly us back, just hold on as much as you can.”

You’re too tired and breathless to respond. All you can do is hold on and close your weak eyes as Din’s jetpack activates and the two of you are lifting off the ground and into the sky.

He gets you back to the ship in a minute. The weakness is going to your very core, down to your bones, and it’s been a long fucking time since you’ve had a low this bad. But, then again, it’s been a long time since you’ve gone without food for this long, too.

“Fast sugar,” Din says as he hands you a bar of chocolate and pours a packet of juice into a glass. You reach out for them, but your hands are shaking so much that it’s hard to hold the glass without the juice just spilling everywhere. “Here,” Din offers, lifting the glass up to your mouth and helping you take a sip. Once you’ve had a little, he puts it down and gets to work breaking the chocolate into little bite-sized pieces.

“Under my bunk, I’ve got a blood sugar monitor,” you tell him after your fifth piece. “In my medpack.” The symptoms aren’t fading yet, but it’s not usually long until you start to feel the sugar kick in.

Din hesitates, probably confused as to why you have that, but then he nods and heads off into your bunk, leaving you with the chocolate and juice.

You manage to finish the rest of it alone. The shaking is subsiding slowly but surely, the sensation of chocolate in your mouth distracting you for a little while.

He’s back in a few minutes carrying your medpack. It’s got your meds and your monitor; you fish them both out and prick your finger immediately. Sure enough, it’s dangerously low. There’s a timer on the side of it, so you set it for ten minutes, making sure you don’t forget to test it again.

Din just stands there, watching. You tip your head back against the sofa but you can feel his eyes on you, even though his visor; can picture it in your mind, him just standing there with his hands hanging at his sides, studying you as if just staring will help him to understand what’s happening.

He’s entirely silent for ten minutes. He checks your vitals with his vambrace a few more times, but doesn’t say a word.

The timer goes off. When you test your blood again, it’s back to safe levels, and you breathe a sigh of relief. As always after a low, you feel fucking exhausted and washed-out, and definitely need a proper meal as soon as possible. But you don’t feel like you’re about to pass out any second anymore, so there’s that.

The next sigh that you let out is one of nerves. You breathe in deep, bracing yourself to look back at Din and face the inevitable questions.

When your eyes meet his visor, your stomach twists a little in guilt. “I can explain,” you say, not needing to see his face to know that he’s probably raising an expectant eyebrow at you.

“How do you feel?” He asks instead of What the fuck?

You swallow heavily. “Better,” you say. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For…making you finish the mission alone. For being a useless partner.”

“That’s what you’re sorry about?”

You stare at him, wide-eyed, swallowing yet again in the hopes it will dampen some of the guilt rising up your throat. (It doesn’t). You put the mission in severe jeopardy; you put the both of you in danger. Din trusted you to be his partner, to get the mission done effectively, to not almost die in the middle of it. And you let him down. “Well…yeah,” you answer, like it should be obvious. “I let you down. I was a bad partner.”

“Yes, you were.”

“I’m sorry. I’ll be more careful next time, I’ll be more helpful—”

“You weren’t a bad partner because you almost passed out,” Din interrupts you. He doesn’t sound angry, which you make note of and let calm your nerves. “You were a bad partner because you didn’t tell me about…this,” he gestures to your med kit, your machines and your medicines.

Oh. Right.

Of course he’s upset you kept this from him.

He sighs. Stepping closer, he sits beside you on the couch, leaving just inches between you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” His voice is softer than you’d expected; not a trace of accusation or anger. Just…concern. Disappointment.

You can’t look at him. “I didn’t want you to worry. Or…to think that I couldn’t do my job.”

“I am always going to worry about you, Riduur,” he says.

“Exactly. I didn’t want to give you another reason to worry.”

“Is this why you’ve been stopping mid-mission to eat so often?”

“Yeah,” you laugh nervously. “I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out sooner.”

“I just thought…” he fades off, then shrugs. “I don’t know what I thought. Maybe I should have asked.” He sounds thoughtful. You shake your head in response. Then, he turns to look at you, and asks, “How long have you…been sick?”

“I got diagnosed with diabetes when I was nineteen. I’ve had it a long time now. And I’m usually much better at controlling it than this, but I…we’ve been so busy.”

Din sighs softly and hangs his head. His hands clench into fists on his lap. “I’m sorry.”

Your eyes snap up to look at him. “Why are you sorry?”

“I should have noticed. I shouldn’t have let you neglect your health.”

“You had no idea,” you assure him, putting a hand on the armour over his thigh. “I’m the one who kept this from you. How were you supposed to know?”

“With or without diabetes, I should be taking better care of you.”

“No, that’s not the lesson we’re taking away from this.”

He looks at you again. The black T of his visor is emotionless, but you can imagine the quirk of his eyebrow. “It’s not?”

“No,” you almost laugh, because how is he suddenly making this his fault?

“Then what is?”

“That I should’ve told you. That I put us in danger by not letting you know something that could’ve affected the mission. Something that could’ve…hurt us.”

He stares at you. Unmoving, unreadable.

“Did you make me say the lesson out loud on purpose by pretending you feel guilty?” You ask him.

“No,” he replies, deadpan, “I’d never.”

“You would.”

“I didn’t,” he says, this time with a slight smile in his voice. He reaches out, takes your hand. “I meant it when I said I should have noticed.”

“I was actively hiding it,” you say. “I don’t blame you. It’s my fault.”

“You should have told me,” he agrees, albeit reluctantly. “But now that I know, we can make sure this never happens again.”

“I’ll just be more careful, and always bring a snack, even if I think we’re not going to be out for long.”

He squeezes your hand, still looking at you through the visor. “Will you tell me about it?” He asks earnestly.

“What do you want to know?”

“What you need, what to look out for,” he answers. “How you manage it. I want to make sure you’re safe. That at least one of us can be taking proper care of you.”

Your heart swells with a sudden bloom of warmth. This isn’t how you expected this to go down: you thought he’d be angry with you for not telling him, and even more angry for almost ruining the mission.

But, in hindsight, you should’ve known better. Better than to keep this from him, and better than to expect that kind of reaction.

This is Din. All he’s ever wanted is for you to be safe. Any secret that you’ve told him has always been met with kindness, understanding. Even when you’ve kept it from him for a while.

“What?” Din asks into the silence that you hadn’t even realised you’d created. You’re just staring at him, warmth in your chest and adoration in your eyes.

You shake your head. “Nothing,” you say, finding your voice a little choked with tears in your throat, “just. I love you.”

He softens. Leans in, presses the beskar over his forehead to yours. “I love you too, Cyar’ika.”

You close your eyes. “I’m sorry I kept it from you.”

“I know. It’s alright. But please tell me how we can make sure it doesn’t happen again.”

“I will,” you promise, pushing your nose into his helmet for a second before pulling away, giving him a sheepish smile. “But first, I need a proper meal.”

notes: finally getting to one of yall's requests! i've been so busy but thank you for your patience, and thank you to this anon for this request. as a fellow diabetic, i can relate, and i would want din there for a low if i had to have one, lmao.

hope you enjoyed! reblogs & comments so so appreciated if you can ❤️

din taglist: @brokenghostgirl1 @astronymity

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #my fic: din #my fic #my post: fic #gif cw

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tropes-and-tales · 4 days

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Shadow and Light: Chapter Three

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin x F!Reader

WC: 3312

Other Pieces: This is part of a larger miniseries that can be found here.

CW: Slow-burn; plot-building; canon violence; non-canon fighting; pining.

Channeling always left you drained, and it was doubly so when you used Ashla for healing. It was like a fast-moving river: when you opened the gates and let it flow through you, it wasn’t the using that wore you out – it was closing the gates, turning it off.

You’d heard about entire orders of people who could use the power. You own adopted people had mystics who used it for guidance or healing, and you’d heard of the Jedis and Sith, and darker sects like the Nightsisters. You knew that those who were trained in it could channel it specifically, but for you, it was just torrents of raw power that coursed through you. Neither good nor bad.

And because you couldn’t really control it, there was always a spillover effect. When you healed Mando that evening, the deluge of power also showed you visions upon visions that cycled through your head as you slept by the fire that night. Visions of the past, visions of possible futures. None of them really making sense. The strongest vision – the one that stayed to the forefront of your mind even when you woke – was the most unsettling.

You were still exhausted the next morning, so when you and Mando and the floating pod exited the canyon and saw the Razor Crest being dissembled by Jawas, well….there wasn’t much you could do other than sigh and watch Mando pursuit them pointlessly. Once he was out of sight, you sighed again and guided the pod with the child into what was left of the ship.

“He does things the hard way,” you told the Child, who twitched its ears and held its arms out to you. You lifted it out of its pod, and it snuggled into your arm with a pleased coo.

Jawas were canny scavengers, and you and the Child inspected the damage: they had taken almost everything of value, tearing out components that could be repurposed for other vehicles. The frame of the ship was intact, though, and they’d left most of the personal effects behind. Mando’s sleeping quarters had been tossed and searched, but they’d missed the little nook you’d carved out for yourself in the cargo hold. Your pack was still there, untouched, and you knelt down and rooted through it now for some food.

You had a package of preserved nutrition bars – they tasted terrible, but they were food. You gnawed at one and pressed little bits to the Child, who ate them but frowned so mightily at the taste that you couldn’t help but laugh.

“I know,” you told it. “They’re bad.”

Then there was nothing to do but wait, so you took the Child to the cockpit, settled into one of the remaining seats, and curled up. The Child made a sleepy grumble as it burrowed against you, and before long, it was asleep.

It wasn’t a weapon after all. You had truly thought it was some thing, maybe a cache of kyber crystals that the Empire used to power its awful death machines. But it was just a child, a sweet little thing from what you could tell, and every moment you spent with it, the more certain you were: your original plan only needed a little revision. Instead of destroying the asset to keep it from the hands of the Empire, you were going to protect it.

*****

Mando was discomfited, so when he caught the Jawas destroying his ship, running after them in a blind rage seemed perfectly reasonable.

You’d thrown him off his center when you healed him the previous night, and he had been uncomfortable ever since. Maybe uncomfortable wasn’t the right word. He was a man of few words, after all. Maybe bothered was a better word.

His arm was perfectly healed. Even in daylight when he inspected the wound closer, it was completely mended without a single scar to mark where it had been. It didn’t mean that the spot didn’t burn with the memory of where you had touched him for that too-short moment.

Maybe burn wasn’t the right word. The best word he could use was yaim’la, the Mando’a word for comfort. But more like familiar, like being home. Which wasn’t a feeling Mando had felt in a very long time. He had no home.

You had still been drained by the healing, and he could see the dark circles under your eyes as you trudged beside him. But you never complained or asked him to slow his stride, and he grudgingly gave you some respect for that.

More curious was how you couldn’t quite meet his eyeline like you had before. When you spoke, your gaze seemed to fall just a bit short, like you were addressing the top of his helmet instead of the slit where his eyes were.

The only respite was when he chased down the Jawas’ moving fortress. He had managed to kill a few of the pests and had nearly breached the giant vehicle, but he had ultimately failed and fallen from it. The fall stunned him, knocked him unconscious for a moment.

Then he woke up, and his arm burned with the memory of your hand on him. Irritated, he marched back the Crest to find you and the asset curled up in the cockpit, and you both woke when he tried to turn his ship on. A useless effort: the engines were gone, as was the navigation system and the ignition switch.

-----

The evening was spent with Kulil. Once the situation was made clear to the Ugnaught and a plan was made, Mando pulled back from the rest of you. You and Kulil chatted amiably – you both seemed to be genuinely curious creatures – and Mando eavesdropped a little jealously. He wished he could speak as easily as Kulil.

You each spoke about your experiences under the yoke of the Empire: him as an indentured servant, little better than a slave. You as a hunted person with the rest of the remaining Lasats, hiding in the craggy mountains and pestering the outpost of imps who staffed the permanent base they built on your adopted planet.

Kulil asked about your childhood and what it was like being raised in another species, another culture. Mando tilted his head to listen to your answer – he had an idea what that might have been like. He had been a foundling too. He wondered if you had felt as lost as he had. If you still felt lost. At least he had the Way. You seemed to be completely alone, drifting whatever way the wind seemed to blow you, or whichever way your so-called channeling seemed to pull you.

“It was fine,” was all you said, but even the Mandalorian could hear the lie in your voice. You turned inward then, and Mando watched as your eyes shifted to the horizon. It was twilight on Arvala-7, and you got a sad, faraway look on your face. Kulil felt the shift in mood too, and the Ugnaught fell silent.

One by one, you each carved out your own places to sleep and turned in for the night. Mando just settled in against one of the walls of Kulil’s house – he could fall asleep anywhere. Besides, his spot gave him a prime view to watch you as you slept. When he reasoned with himself that he was just watching over you because he didn’t completely trust you, he almost believed it himself.

*****

You were already thinking of the Child as your ally, your co-conspirator.

When Mando bickered with the Jawas, when he tried to roast one and refused to deal with them, you caught yourself making eye contact with the little green creature, and you swore the two of you were thinking the same thing: Mando does things the hard way.

And because he did things the hard way, you found yourself tossed into the air and in the mud near the mudhorn’s lair. You had suggested that perhaps he scan the cave first, but no – Mando stalked into the cave without a backwards glance, and you had tried to step in to help….and you ended up bruised and stunned while the Child lifted the mudhorn into the air with the same power you used to channel and heal. You could feel that power crackling in the air, even with your head ringing and your thoughts muddled.

When Mando finally made his way over to you, you were seeing double. The sun glinted off his beskar helmet, and you squinted your eyes at him.

“Cyar’ika,” he spat angrily. “I told you to stay back with the kid.” He extended his hand and hoisted you to your feet. “Are you hurt?” he added, a little less rough.

“Fine,” you wheezed. You knew you’d have a constellation of bruises in the morning, but you wouldn’t admit that to Mando. Not when you’d finally exasperated him enough to make him swear in his native tongue.

Besides, the Child was slumped over in its pod, and it needed your attention more than thinking up a witty rejoinder for Mando.

*****

He stayed away from you as much as he could, after that. After that word slipped out of his mouth, unbidden. It was seeing you tossed by the mudhorn, seeing how hard you hit. How you didn’t move afterwards. How you didn’t move until he stood over you, his heart in this throat, only to be greeted by you squinting and smiling up at him.

Luckily, you didn’t seem to know what the word meant, and Mando tried to forget it. The job was almost over. He’d leave you on Navarro, complete the job, and return to his lonely life.

The problem? The more he watched you – with the unconscious Child, with the Razor Crest as you helped rebuild it (you hadn’t lied – you rebuilt both of the engines) – the more he wanted you to stay on. He’d readily admit to himself that this job had been made easier by your presence…and he was starting to admit that he liked your company.

By the time he was punching in the final coordinates for the approach to Navarro, Mando was ready to make a proposition to you. A deal, for you to stay on and work with him. His stomach was twisted and churning, and he could already feel the blood heating his face. For the thousandth time since meeting you, he was grateful for the helmet.

Mando landed the Crest, and he heard you leave the cockpit. He powered the craft down and followed you a moment later, and he found you standing beside the Child’s pod. Your face was wan but resolute, and you looked directly into his eyes. You were obviously gazing at the slit in his visor.

“You can’t finish this job,” you said simply. “You can’t hand the kid over to those…monsters.”

Mando wasn’t surprised. You had taken to the Child immediately, and after it revealed its power – similar to yours, apparently – you had gotten even more productive. He had prepared for this.

“I made a deal,” he replied.

You had prepared for him too, apparently. You gave a single nod and stepped between him and the pod. Never taking your eyes off of him, you pulled your bo-rifle from your back and snapped it into its staff formation. You didn’t turn it on yet.

“I don’t want to fight you, Mando,” you said, and he could hear the trembling in your voice. “But I will if I have to.”

The helmet hid the small smile that crossed his face. It wasn’t cruel or taunting – it was almost soft. “I don’t want to fight you either,” he replied.

“Why can’t we – “ you started, but that thought was cut off by Mando: lightning quick, faster than you could turn on your staff, the dart from his gauntlet found the soft skin of your neck. Your eyes widened a fraction as your hand flew up to finger the tiny dart, but you were already falling. Mando took two wide steps to catch you, and he didn’t miss the look of betrayal on your face before you fell asleep.

You’d get over. So would the kid. Everyone got left behind in the end.

The sedative should work for hours, and once you woke up, maybe you’d be more reasonable and open to business.

-----

When Mando returned to the Razor Crest, he was ready to check on you and wait out the rest of your long sleep. The payment for the job paid him enough beskar to remake his armor, plus extra for the foundlings. If his conscience prickled at leaving the Child behind…he pushed that aside.

You weren’t sleeping, though.

You were waiting for him.

With your bo-staff, turned on and crackling, and when you jumped out of the shadows and shocked him, Mando was taken aback by how furious you looked.

The shock wasn’t enough to seriously stun him, but it threw him onto his heels, and you took advantage of that. You, on the offensive, and Mando fighting off your flurry of strikes as you shouted at him.

“Was it worth it?” you yelled, hitting him hard in his vulnerable instep with the butt-end of your staff. “Worth it to turn an innocent creature over to the Empire?”

“You don’t – “ he started, but you cut him off with a hard chop to his forearm.

“They’re gonna kill it, just like they kill everything they touch!” You spun around to avoid his hand, grasping at you to still you, and Mando felt the shock when it landed on his back. Muted by the beskar, but still stinging.

“Stop!” he roared, and he threw his weight backwards to pin you against the inner hull of the Crest. Once pinned, he swiveled around and grabbed your wrist, and the staff clattered from your hand. The two of you stood like that – your face tilted up at his as you glared at him in pure fury. Your eyes were shiny with tears, and your chest was heaving – more from the effort to hold back your tears than from the effort of sparring with him.

“It was the job,” he said, a little quieter. “And this is the Way.”

Your eyes narrowed. “Oh, the Way.” You said it so sneeringly, Mando pulled back a fraction. You noted the movement and closed the gap and then some, until your face was close to his helmet. Through the visor, this close, he could see your eyes – the flecks of color in the irises that shifted as you blinked away the tears that kept springing up. Even angry – furious – you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

“Tell me, Mando. When you become a Mandalorian, what do they do first? Give you a helmet or tear out your heart and replace it with beskar?” You shook your head and pulled your wrist from his grasp. Swiped it across your eyes angrily. “What use is a Creed if you don’t use it to protect the helpless?”

You shoved past him to leave, and his hand shot out again to stop you. “Wait,” he tried, but you pulled against him and he pulled you back and you were stronger than he realized, and you both tumbled onto the hard crating of the Crest. You tried to scramble away from him, but he grabbed at your ankle.

Which made you rear back your other leg and kick him directly in the head. Hard.

It was enough to stun him, and you clambered to your feet and stood over him a moment. “I thought you were different. I saw you in a vision, and it didn’t have to end like this.”

And then you turned on your heel – sans your bo-rifle – and ran into the night.

-----

Everything that came after – rescuing you (while you were rescuing the kid), the fire-fight, the escape on the Crest with the aid of the Mandalorian covert – had felt right. Like his feet were on one of your paths that you had talked about.

Right now, though, he had to make it right with you. Even if you had teamed up to fight off the stormtroopers, mercenaries, and other bounty hunters, you sat in the co-pilot’s seat now and glared at him. As if returning for you and the kid wasn’t quite enough to make up for his betrayal. His eyes drifted to the lurid bruise on your neck from the dart, and he felt a sting of guilt.

“I’m sorry,” he said again. “You were right.”

You hadn’t been especially talkative before, but your silence now was heavier than the beskar armor he wore. It was palpable. It filled the cockpit and made it hard to breathe.

“You were right,” he repeated. “I don’t know what else to say to make it better.” He swiveled in his seat to face you.

There was a long moment of the two of you just staring. Well, you were staring at him, but Mando’s eyes were studying you – from your stony face to your palms laying on your knees. To your left foot, tapping on the floor.

“Fine,” you finally said, and your face relaxed a little. “So what next?”

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “We’ll need to stop for supplies. Then I say we lay low for a bit and regroup.” You nodded at that, so he continued.

“You were never trying to join the Guild, were you?” He wasn’t angry at your original lie, but he was curious.

You shook your head, and a faint blush rose in your cheeks. “I had a feeling about that building and the client. About the job.” You glanced at him and then looked past him. “I had a feeling about you.”

Mando tried to ignore the warm flush that sparked in him. “A feeling, or a vision?” he joked, though he wasn’t sure if it sounded joking through his modulator.

You smiled at him, then waved your hand. “Oh, those,” you said dismissively. “I have so many, it’s hard to tell what’s real. They’re only possible futures.”

“So no vision of a possible future like this?”

“Are you asking me if I ever saw myself on a pre-Empire gunship with a stubborn Mandalorian and a creature of unknown origins? No, I hadn’t seen that one before.” The thaw between you seemed complete now, judging by your teasing tone and the corner of your mouth quirked into a smirking little smile. After a beat, you yawned, covering it with the back of your hand.

“Come on,” he said. He stood up and motioned for you to follow him. You had been sleeping in the cargo hold, curled up on your pack and your cloak like a stray lothcat. He had started cleaning out the spare quarters bit by bit on the way back to Navarro. It had been a repository for junk, spare parts, but once cleaned, he hoped you might like it enough to consider it home.

Looking at it now with you by his side, Mando felt a sudden wave of uncertainty. Embarrassment. It was such a small space, just a narrow cot and small footlocker and a pair of tiny shelves. Far less than he wished he could give you, and that thought made him even more uncomfortable.

You seemed fine with the space, though. Happy, even. You gave a little cry of delight and ran off to gather your pack from the cargo hold, and then you came back.

“Thanks for this,” you said, and you reached out to squeeze his forearm in gratitude. Then you were in your new quarters, already unpacking your meager belongings, completely unaware how that lone touch of yours – even through the beskar gauntlet and the course canvas cloth underneath – set him ablaze.

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine #tropes and tales

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burnwater13 · 10 months

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Grogu had some questions about starship design. He’d been thinking about it recently and he just didn’t understand why the ships looked the way they looked. Sure, the outsides always looked cool covered in spikes and windows and stuff like that, but why were the insides so poorly lit?

It was like the people who designed them hadn’t even considered that the folks working in them might need to see what they were doing. Would anyone really do that? Just make something so poorly because as long as they weren’t on it, that didn’t matter?

Then of course the other thing he found strange, as he looked back on his experience with starships in general, was that they always seemed to have places for people to kind of hide. Not actually, really hide, but at least take some cover? Was there a purpose for that? It seemed kind of wasteful. They seemed like choices you made when you knew some percent of the time that people would need cover and that percent was really high. But then, why not improve overall security? There was probably a deeper problem that wasn’t being addressed.

Of course, now that he was thinking about all the problems with starship design, he realized that most of the ships he’d been on were either made for the Empire or had been built before the Empire had even existed. So many had been designed by people who thought they could never be attacked or by people who had largely lived during times of peace. Huh. The same sides of different credit bars…

Setting aside for a moment that Imp vessels seemed to expect on board fighting, what with providing all that notional cover, both Imp and pre-Imp vessels were nothing but hard surfaces and sharp angles. Grogu wondered how many members of the crew reported to the medical bay for treatment of contusions and abrasions? That had to be a pretty high percentage.

After all, regular uniforms offered no protection and trooper armor was almost as fragile. Plus, it had been Grogu’s experience that as covered up as you might be, the thing that you stubbed your toe on or hit your elbow on was always positioned to do just that. No armor could protect areas it didn’t cover. He had complained at the Mandalorian about that more than once.

Even the Razor Crest didn’t have great lighting. It had lots of sharp corners, that skinny ladder to the bridge, the slippery floors, everything that made it hard for people of any size or form to traverse the space without whacking themselves on something. Grogu wondered how many of the Mandalorian’s scars were from scraping his arms or legs against stuff after polishing the floor. Probably a bunch of them.

Grogu had gotten a tiny cut on his hand once just peeking down from the hatchway to the lower deck because the diamond plate hadn’t been de-burred. He healed it with the Force, so no need to worry about him, but Din Djarin couldn’t do that. Plus Mandalorians really seemed to like their scars.

Uff. That was true. Mandalorians did like their scars. Grogu had tried to count all the scars on Din Djarin's hands and arms once, but he had reached a pretty high number and that started to make him sad. He asked the Mandalorian if he knew how many scars he had and the Bounty Hunter had replied ‘No’ pretty quickly. Grogu figured he was pretty embarrassed at the number and said so.

Din Djarin had gotten pretty annoyed at that comment.

“Because you can count a thing doesn’t mean you should.”

Grogu had sighed. That was true. Should he really count all the ways that starships were designed to hurt the people they were supposed to protect? Probably not. Just counting them didn’t do anything. If he wanted people to stop getting hurt by the bad design choices he could either fix the problems as they arose, or he could help his dad select a new starship. Something that was all rounded and smooth, where a lot of attention had been paid to making the interior of the ship user friendly.

Sure, the rate at which the Mandalorian collected scars would go down, but Grogu was willing to trade that off for an interior with softer surfaces and better lighting. The only question was could they really find a pram that the Mandalorian would fit in?

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin

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archetypesanalysis · 11 months

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The Mandalorian Season 1: The Warrior

After the Mandalorian season 2 finale, I saw many people talking about how Din Djarin would be a great Mand’alor. This peaked my interest and I stumbled upon the book “King, Warrior, Magician, Lover: Rediscovering the Archetypes of the Mature Masculine” by Robert Moore and Douglas Gillette. The book talks about the 4 masculine archetypes (these archetypes are not restricted to men only): King, Warrior, Magician and Lover.

The Mandalorian now has 3 seasons, and season 4 is confirmed. I interpret the four seasons as the journeys Din Djarin must go through to master all the 4 archetypes.

Season 1 is the Warrior archetype. The promotional poster and logo depict Din Djarin as a lone warrior in the Outer Rim (the Wild West in Star Wars).

The Warrior takes an aggressive stance towards life – always moving forward. He channels his aggression positively by staying alert, having a clear mind, and adapting to situations for he is aware of his imminent death. Hence, he acts decisively as if this action is his last, leaving no time for hesitation. The Warrior has the right control over his mind and attitudes: he can assess his own strengths and limitations accurately, he has self-discipline, he takes responsibility for his own actions, he is courageous, and he can withstand immense physical and psychological pain. These traits are present in Din Djarin.

The Warrior is devoted to a transpersonal ideal or goal like a higher power, a belief or a cause, which leads to emotional distance. This allows the Warrior to have an objective view on his tasks and situations, so he can act more swiftly and efficiently. Din Djarin is devoted to the Way of the Mandalorian (“This is the Way”) to the point that he refuses to remove his helmet.

The Warrior is usually a destroyer, but a positive Warrior only destroys what must be destroyed in order for something better to rise. Initially, Din Djarin is not much of a positive Warrior as he is a bounty hunter. His journey in Season 1 is to push him to become a positive Warrior.

The Warrior needs to connect with other mature masculine energies to be balanced. Din Djarin’s Warrior archetype is connected with the Magician archetype, which helps him to master his fighting skills, piloting skills and weaponry. He is also connected to the Lover and King archetypes as we see him contributing most of his payment to support the Tribe and a beskar bar to sponsor many foundlings in the first episode. However, these two archetypes are “hidden” inside him when he is working, only “letting down” when he’s with the Tribe.

His Lover and King archetypes are “brought to the surface” through his encounter with Kuiil. His Lover archetype is activated when he manages to tame a blurrg. This archetype is crucial upon his encounter with IG-11 and Grogu. Although he has a disdain towards droids, he respects IG-11’s fighting skills and is concerned of the blaster damage the droid has taken. When he lays his eyes on Grogu, he immediately connects with the child and protects him from other bounty hunters. His King archetype later is activated when he gets rid of the mercenaries in an encampment, bringing peace to the locals. This archetype is nurtured when Kuiil advises him to negotiate with the Jawas to retrieve the stolen parts of his ship.

His Warrior archetype begins to take on positive attributes when he feels guilty for handing over Grogu to the Imperial remnant. This transformation continues when he and Cara Dune defend a village from raiders. However, to identify solely as a Warrior, even with its positive traits, can be destructive as the Warrior is emotionally detached and his sense of duty overrides the importance of his relationships. This pitfall is highlighted in “Chapter 5: The Gunslinger”, where Peli Motto scolds him for leaving Grogu alone in the ship. Grogu is stuck with Din in the long run because Grogu is still hunted down by other bounty hunters. Although emotional detachment is necessary when carrying out his bounty hunting profession, it is not good for Grogu even though he means well for the child. This episode teaches him the importance of relationships and who to trust – he learns to trust Peli to take care of Grogu, but he also prepares for Toro Calican to betray him.

“Chapter 6: The Prisoner” helps Din Djarin to open his eyes to the Shadow Warrior: The Sadist and the Masochist. He probably has taken on the Sadist when he was doing a job on Alzoc III as Xi’an says that he ‘liked’ what he has done. Since Alzoc III was under Imperial control, it is possible that Din has shown his cruel side towards the Imperials (it’s probably cruelty with passion as the Imperials are responsible for the Great Purge). He is uncomfortable to talk about it, indicating that he has changed (another indication that he has changed is that he does not want to kill Davan as Davan is an innocent bystander in the mission). However, Xi’an is trying to lure him back to his Sadist shadow by telling him that the ship they are going to raid is crewed by droids, which will appeal to his hatred of droids.

Din Djarin not just has to resist the Sadist, he also has to resist the Masochist shadow. The Masochist is a man who has taken too much beating and abuse until he explodes in a sadistic outburst that can be physical or verbal. Burg, Mayfeld and Xi’an are making fun of him and his identity as a Mandalorian, trying to lure his Masochist shadow out. We, the audience can feel the anger and the desire to retaliate, but it takes a lot of self-control to not give in. The episode ends with Din successfully resists the pull to the bipolar Shadow Warrior as he does not kill Burg, Mayfeld and Xi’an despite they have betrayed him. His decision to lock them up instead will be helpful to him in the future.

“Chapter 7: The Reckoning” is where Din Djarin integrates his Warrior archetype with the Magician, the Lover and the King archetypes (mainly the Lover and the King). He gathers Cara Dune and Kuiil to help him face Greef Karga and the Imperial remnant. His motivation is not to be a hero, but to ensure Grogu will be saved from other bounty hunters and the Imperial remnant. He also forgives Greef Karga when he admits that he wants to betray them but changes his mind after Grogu heals him. He then quickly comes up with a new plan to eliminate the Client.

“Chapter 8: Redemption” serves as the final test for Din Djarin in becoming a positive Warrior. Din is willing to put his life on the line to take down Moff Gideon and the Imperial remnant. This is the positive Warrior energy that destroys what must be destroyed in order for something better to rise. Din passes the test when he stays true to his transpersonal belief by not removing his helmet and that he is willing to sacrifice himself to protect Grogu. He is then rewarded with Grogu using the Force to take down the incinerator trooper, and with IG-11 healing him because as a droid, IG-11 can bypass the helmet rule.

Of course, this is only his first trial. His next trial will involve the Lover archetype.

#the mandalorian #star wars #din djarin #grogu #the mandalorian season 1 #the mandalorian season one #the mandalorian analysis #din djarin and grogu #sw the mandalorian #star wars the mandalorian #king warrior magician lover #archetypes #archetypal psychology #the mandalorian meta

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padawansuggest · 2 years

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Also I made a connection the other day: we were told that the Mandalorian would be the darkest most gritty SW yet and it truly was not. We were then told ‘lol okay jk Book of Boba Fett will be’ and it. Is. Not.

I think they really darkbaited fanboys and said ‘lol fuck them bitches’ and literally gave us the story of the coming of the Next Great Mand’alor that will unite Mandalorians, and then they ALSO said ‘here’s what you do when local cocaine traffickers decide to use native land to move product bringing destruction and chaos in their wake you straight up kill them’ while simultaneously giving Boba Fett, THE first ever notorious Mandalorian bounty hunter in all of SW history, and arguably one of the characters with the most intense backstory, a home and family and deciding that working for the people is better than working for assholes with deep pockets. Fuck them bitches and fuck those who hurt the young.

They literally gave us a Mand’alor who deserves the title through both MORALS (he has very intense morals!!! The last amazing Mand’alor also had very intense morals!!!) and a love of children born in a cult and living underground in fear most of his life, who’s about to unite Mandalorian people because children are the future AND he believes that the Jedi are good, we’re finally gonna get Mandalorian Jedi solidarity like the darksaber ruler was meant for.

And then with Boba Fett, you take a man who’s done horrible things for the sake of survival and fear and heartbreak, a man who’s life was about getting credits and staying alive, and you get an arc where he also, decides, that the people and the children they hurt, are so much more important than the ones who used to pay him and wouldn’t bat an eye if he got killed.

Boba Fett has already shown himself to be polite, not wanting to rule by fear, ready to protect others and hire college age kids who can only get by by stealing. The rancor???? Jabba used his rancor to terrorize others, to kill for amusement, to create fear. Boba wants to give his boy a scratch on that good spot and learn to ride him. The kids? Jabba would have ordered them killed for stealing. Garsa Fwip? When he first came in her club as the new crime lord of the area, she was terrified, expecting him to demand payment and terrorize her people. It took less than three episodes for her to share an eye roll with him and shrug when he gave her encouraging words that she did her best. She’s not scared of him. The first thing she did was bribe him preemptively, but she’s not scared of him, and it’s not because she knows she already gave him the credits.

Din and Boba were supposed to be gritty characters. And that’s exactly what they are. They are buckling down and realizing that caring for others isn’t just taking bounties and collecting credits for those they consider family. They are realizing that governments can be restructured for the sake of the many, that they can make a change to the rules that exist only to hurt.

Din was excommunicated by someone who RAISED him, for taking off his helmet. That’s all he had to do to lose the last of his remaining family. Boba was stripped of his armor and dragged half alive to be a slave for others until he proved his worth to them.

It’s not easy. People who think they got baited into thinking this would be badass, aren’t actually here for the true grit that comes with creating change for the many to keep communities functioning. They just wanted bounty hunter violence and badass fighting moves.

Greef Carga went from threatening a man and child, to turning his bar into a school.

That’s the true grit that no one wants to fucking look at when it comes to the darker moments of Star Wars storylines.

#star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin #boba fett #book of boba fett #bobf spoilers #i edited a few words about the rancor cause I made it sound like Jabba and boba had the same one

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sofiaaaaaaaa03 · 2 years

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The Storyteller

Summary: Din's foundling has become a local favorite at a cantina because of the stories they tell from their home planet.

Pairing: Din Djarin x teen! GN Reader

Rating: G

word count: 1.1k

_______

It seemed like you had a knack for storytelling.

Sitting amidst a crowd of listeners, the Mandalorian listened in as you had captured the audience in a thrilling tale of a young boy who was tasked with traveling to the past in order to save the life of a scientist. The story itself was not quite thrilling to his taste, but it was your diction, your engagement with those around you, the way you would change your voice to raise suspense in breath-holding moments that he was drawn to.

There you stood, (height) foot tall, smaller compared to your company yet your presence was made known to everyone in the room as you stood atop a bar and continued with your story. Around you, bounty hunters listened in, enraptured to this wonderful tale of yours. The frequents of the cantina always looked forward to Din’s visits. Seeing the Mandalorian enter only meant that a little (h/c) headed foundling followed close behind, and that another tale would be told and more drinks were to be had.

Din kept a close watch on the kid as they spoke, protective of his clan as always. But he knew that as long as you told your stories, no fighting would occur in the bar. Grogu sat next to him, enjoying a bowl of soup. The child giggled at their older sibling.

“And just as quickly as he left, Einstein appeared back to the present time. Behind him was a streak of fire.”

A stomp, and you lifted a glass in your hand.

“Time travel, though impossible it seems, is actually possible. Now when I tell you Marty was in disbelief to see a dog become the first being to time travel, he was.” You wandered across the bar, kindly smiling at the bartenders as they moved glasses and plates out of your way. “Personally, I would be jealous but that’s besides the point!”

“Y/N!” Cried a young Rakata.

You snapped your head over to the young man, swinging your arm to point in their direction and pausing, “What’s up Carzac?”

All eyes on the Rakata, he paused a moment in hesitance as though he’d forgotten how many people had your attention before he continued. “How did the scientist make time travel possible?”

Eyes turned back to you, though you seemed unfazed as you pivoted and walked the other direction of the bar.

“Excellent question, Carzac. You’re thinking like Marty, did you know that?” A smile grew on the Rakata’s face.

“How did Doc make time travel possible? Marty asks this to the professor, and Doc eagerly shows Marty a device in the car’s cabin known as the flux capacitor.” You lifted the glass in your hand, gesturing with your other hand and wiggled your fingers at it. “It was the flux capacitor, and plutonium that allowed Doc’s invention to time travel…”

You continued on with your story, rambling about how the doc would meet his doom due to a deal gone wrong with terrorists, but before he could listen in Din was nudged in the arm. He glanced at the drink pushed towards him and met the eyes of the cantina owner, Glib, who’d come to join him at the table.

Glib averted his eyes to you, a small smile on his face. “They know how to put on a good show.”

A clamored uproar from the audience erupted after hearing that Doc was shot by the terrorists.

Din nodded, keeping an eye on the crowd to make sure brawls would ensue. “Don’t know where they come up with them.”

“No kidding? New story every time you return from a mission. Word spreads fast whenever you show your face here and people fill up the place quickly after. All for their stories. I don’t know the last time I’ve met a kid with so many stories like they do. Honestly, it makes you wonder where they get them from.”

Din pushed the drink to the person at the table next to him, who gasped at the drink and clapped a hand on his shoulder to say thanks.

Your smile shone brighter in the room as you continued with your story. It was a sight to see, as Din knew that telling stories from your home planet to a full room brought you the most joy between missions. The guests of the cantina sat with ease and every now and then some would hand you money as an appreciation for your time.

This was the routine. The moment you arrive at the cantina you were given a meal and the attention of patrons. Two stories, maximum. House rules. Otherwise the patrons would never let Din take his foundlings back to the ship. Din reminded himself to catch you before you started your second story, the clan had to head back to the ship soon.

“Sometimes I wonder the same thing myself. I’d have to assume it's from their home planet. The kid said they hadn't been off-world before I found them.”

Glib paused mid drink, quickly removing the cup from his lips to look at the armored bounty hunter in disbelief. “Where did you say they were from again?”

His eyes are on you as you take a glass of water from the bar and take a sip before continuing your story.

“And just in time, Doc reconnects the cables just as the lightning bolt surges through the power line and the Dolorean speeds off into the future, leaving behind a trail of fire and a breath of relief from Doc. He takes a moment, not able to believe that they had done it, before he celebrates in the streets. They had done it. But what does Marty find in the future?”

Din turned back to Glib, who had taken Grogu into his arms and offered the little womp rat cherries. Both were enraptured in your tale, he doesn’t blame them. He got caught in the story himself. He always does.

Stories followed the kid like cologne. Wherever they went, their stories lingered on the clothes of whoever would listen. And whenever they were not on some planet, biding their time in a cantina as they awaited for Din to return from his mission, they would tell a story to Din in the Razor Crest, the clan huddled in the cockpit with nothing but stories filling the air.

“Glib.”

“Ah, sorry." The man adjusted his glasses as he tried to recollect his thoughts. "Like I said, they have a way with stories.”

Din hesitated a moment, pondering on his next words. You must miss home if you cling to these stories.

“They said they’re from a planet they call Earth. Have you heard of it?”

____

Taglist:

@samanthacookieone

@thekaibabes

@kiara-is-gay

@pcotato

@sagedgeek

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #star wars #star wars x reader #grogu #star wars reader insert #gender neutral reader #din djarin x y/n #din djarin imagine #gn reader #reader insert #x reader #back to the future

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purplealmonds · 2 years

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Mando S3 Theory: What if Din Djarin’s parents are still alive?

After catching up on The Mandalorian then doing a Youtube crash course on Mando history, I had a thought. What if Din's parents survived the battle droid siege on Aq Vetina? Buckle in, more theorizing beneath the cut!

Why do I think Din Djarin’s are not dead?

One of the cardinal rules of any character death is that unless it is shown on screen, it should be regarded with skepticism. Allow me to list what we do see in young Din's flashback:

Din's parents fleeing in terror as their settlement is besieged by Separatist battle droids:

Din's parents hiding him away in a bunker:

The bright flash and shudder of an off-screen explosion, which is implied to be the cause of his parents' deaths:

One may argue that the bodies weren’t shown because of the rating, but keep in mind this is The Mandalorian we’re talking about. Within minutes of the first episode, we witness a bar fight ending in multiple explicit deaths. Heck, the poor guy who tries to escape the violence gets quite graphically bisected by a door!

Even as the Din's finder pulls him from the bunker and flies away from the war zone, we do not explicitly see the red-cloaked corpses of his parents in the ruined village.

Perhaps they were able to get away. Perhaps they're trapped just out of view under piles of rubble. Either way, we can't know for certain that they were confirmed casualties of the war.

Why don't these Mandos return Din to his family as their creed dictates?

What's stopping them from returning to the settlement once the dust settles to check for survivors? The immediate assumption would be that of course this was done off-screen to save screen time on more important things. But keep in mind these are members of the Death Watch, infamous for their dubious and at times absent sense of morality.

They are not above exploiting, terrorizing, and massacring non-Mandalorians , as seen in their occupation of this village on Carlac:

Leading up to their coup against the New Mandalorians in The Clone Wars series, they have a history of rubbing elbows with Darth Maul to stage terrorist attacks in Sundari, then swooping in just in time to save the day.

Who's to say they wouldn't be above baiting a Separatist army to some random, insignificant village? Spiriting away its younglings in the chaos to convert into fresh recruits would be so easy. These traumatized kids will see them as saviors and become unflinchingly loyal to their cause.

Children are the Mandalorians’ future, but in securing their future they all but doomed the Aq Vetinans’.

Admittedly, most of the “evidence” listed above is based purely on speculation.

So let us now examine this theory from a more meta perspective.

We already see some story parallels between Din and Grogu:

I. The Helpless Caretaker

The Djarins hide Din in a bunker to conceal him from a danger they can't protect him from:

Despite his best efforts, Din is unable to protect Grogu from the Imperial forces:

II. The Unexpected Savior

The Mandalorians descend from the heavens, decimating the enemy droids:

Luke Skywalker arrives out of nowhere, easily cutting down the Dark Troopers:

III. The Foster Caretaker’s Teachings

A Mandalorian takes Din far, far away from his homeworld. He's given training that his parents could not provide which helps him survive in this crueler galaxy:

Luke Skywalker takes Grogu far, far away to Yavin 4, where he helps the youngling recall his training in ways that the Force-null Din cannot:

IV. Homecoming at a Price

In Book of Boba Fett, Grogu is given a choice to either return to Din or stay on the path of the Jedi:

His decision to stay with Din delays the revival of the Jedi order, but Grogu’s ready to let go of an idealized relic of his childhood. Objectively, it was a millennia-old cult whose stagnation and ignorance culminated with its downfall at the execution of Order 66:

If Din's character arc is designed to echo Grogu's, let us see what has happened thus far:

In the second season of The Mandalorian and episodes 5 and 6 of Book of Boba Fett, Din's Mandalorian identity is thrown into flux.

He met Cobb Vanth, an outsider wearing stolen Mandalorian armor not out of malicious sacrilege but to protect his people:

He met the helmet-less Nite Owls who claimed to be Mandalorians:

He met Boba Fett, who rejects the Mandalorian identity despite proudly wearing his father's armor:

And as a final nail on this metaphorical coffin, he was excommunicated by his covert for removing his helmet to protect his foundling, exposing flaws in a creed he so unfalteringly followed until then:

He’s tasked by the Armorer to complete an impossible mission: find redemption through the Living Waters of Mandalore. Despite everything he has learned, Din feels like he has no choice but to go through with it because the Mandalorians are the only family he has...or are they?

If he finds out his parents were alive after all this time, he will face a choice similar to Grogu's. Returning to his long-lost family on Aq Vetina means giving up his potential to become the perfect Mandalorian: rightful wielder of the legendary Darksaber, steadfast follower of the creed, the man who can rally his people to return to the soon-to-be-revived planet Mandalore. Perhaps, like Grogu, he will choose love over glory.

Perhaps he will choose to be Din Djarin instead of the Mandalorian.

#star wars #the mandalorian #Mandalorian season 3 #din djarin #grogu #aq vetina #Mandalorian theory #star wars theory #mando fan theory #mando s3 theory #Mandalorian fan theory #mando #fan theory #long post #purplealmonds #2022

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dameronology · 3 years

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figure it out {din djarin x reader}

summary: din djarin doesn’t usually get jealous. not until he met you, at least {for the lovely and wonderful @stargazingcarol} - 2.5k words

warnings: swearing

this is completely spoiler free!! just some good old jealousy and some antics with the kid. enjoy.

- jamie

You had a complicated relationship with the Mandalorian.

On one hand, you were colleagues…of sorts. He’d spent two years coming to your outpost on Corellia when he needed his ship fixing – and after becoming fed up of traipsing back and forth, he offered you the job full time. It was a mutually beneficial situation. You’d been desperate to get out the city for years, and you were also the only mechanic he trusted. The prospect of a job that would take you all over the galaxy was exciting, even if it meant tiptoeing around one another in the cramped hull of the Razor Crest (and that was before the addition of the Child). But, when you spent days and days in hyperspace with nobody else to talk to, it was only natural that you became friends. It had felt a little awkward at first, as though you were trying to force conversation with a man who just didn’t want to talk -- but then the Mandalorian’s barriers broke down, and things began to change.

You couldn’t quite pinpoint when. It had probably been a few months in, not long after he’d saved your ass from a bounty who had thrown a punch in your direction. You hadn’t expected the Mandalorian to be so protective - and frankly, neither had he. It was after that he found himself doing things without realising; lingering touches on your back when he passed, his hands brushing your thigh whenever you were sat in the cockpit next to him. Then, you became unintentional adoptive parents to a weird, green creature - a bond between you that only seemed progressed naturally, as though you had no control over it.

One night, not long after you took the Child in, you’d both collapsed beside one another on the tiny bed in hull of the Crest. Usually, you would argue for a while about who got to take it, but on that night, neither of you’d had the energy. Under the covers of the dark and with the baby finally asleep, you were muttering amongst yourself - you couldn’t remember the conversation entirely, but it was sleepy, tired gibberish. Din found himself reaching to take the helmet off; he could hear you easier that way, and your voice was comforting enough to lull him off to sleep. In the quiet of the moment, and with the conversation between you reaching a natural stopping point, he’d gently closed the gap between you. It was simple; his lips on yours, only for a brief moment. Then, as though the Child had sensed that everything was no longer about him, he’d opened his mouth and let out a cry for attention.

You began to kiss more often after that; every night before bed, actually. As soon as the lights were off, Din would take the helmet off, give you a gentle kiss and then he’d drift off, holding you tightly to his chest. It was always that, followed by a good night, cyar'ika. Then the morning would come, and it would be good morning, cyar'ika followed by another soft kiss, before the helmet went back on and you both went about your days.

After a few months of that, you’d fallen into an easy routine. Neither of you had quite established what your relationship was, but it didn’t feel like you needed to. It’s not like there was anyone else around for you to have to worry about, or anyone else who would force you to define it. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating; Din Djarin had never been the type of person to plan ahead, and you knew that more than anyone. The idea of becoming attached to him, only to lose him or get hurt was enough for you to at least want to try and work it out. You weren’t expecting a deep conversation, or even one that you could walk away from knowing whatever the hell was going on between you two.

It was just that with the addition of the Child, and the two of you growing closer each day, you wanted an answer. You wanted to know if you were wasting your time; if this was simply a pit-stop on your way to finding a more permanent settlement, or if this was it. Though you’d never admit it, you wanted it to be the latter. Din was reliable, and he cared about you. He was sweet in his own way and he’d have gone to the ends of the galaxy to look after you. He was protective in a way that let you fight your own battles, but not in a way you’d ever have to do it alone. You felt safe with him - as though you’d found everything you were looking for, except neither of you had been looking at all.

You brought the question up on a slow morning. The Mandalorian was between bounties, and you’d briefly landed in a dusty outpost on a thick jungle planet to refuel and find some food. The kid was snoring away in his pod a few feet away, clearly feeding off of the relaxed atmosphere that you’d managed to create. You were laying beside him, the lights still off and your head buried in his neck. Both of Din’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, gripping onto you as though you might slip away into the darkness of the vast galaxy.

‘What are we?’ You asked quietly.

‘Humans.’ Right, there was the dry sense of humour.

‘Din.’ You grumbled. ‘I’m serious.’

‘What’s making you bring it up now, cyar'ika?’ He asked. ‘It’s early.’

‘I was just thinking.’ You sat up, pulling the covers with you. ‘We’ve been doing this thing for months but neither of us have actually worked out what the hell is it is.’

‘We don’t have to.’ He replied.

‘Right.’ You murmured.

‘It’s just-’

As though the little bugger had sensed a sudden onset of tenseness in the room, the Child let out a loud cry. You immediately recognised it: he was hungry. Even if you were ready to throttle anyone who dared come near him, you didn’t have a hard time admitting that he had a penchant for the worst timing. With that said, the fact he’d slept through the whole night without waking once certainly helped the fact.

‘Hey, buddy! It’s okay!’ You heard the mechanical click of Din’s helmet as he turned on the lights, allowing you to leap out of bed and stumble to the baby. ‘We’ll get you some food.’

That wasn’t the first time that something had magically changed the subject whenever you tried to bring up the status of your relationship with Din. If the kid didn’t decide to pull your attention away, it was the Mandalorian himself who veered away from the conversation. He always had to check on a bounty, or rush off to see if the ship was on the right route. It didn’t take a genius to work out that he was avoiding the subject entirely and you were starting to become frustrated.

After almost three weeks of trying to challenge him about it, you were close to giving in entirely. What if you were wasting your time? What if you were going to let yourself fall in love with him, only to find out you weren’t a permanent part of his plan? Fuck, did he even have a plan? Was that the life you wanted -

- it was at that point that your train of thought had stopped, because the Child sensed you were upset, and started bawling. Again.

A few hours after your fourth or fifth try at the conversation - once again to have it ended by the kid tossing a frog at you in an attempt to steal the attention back - the three of you ended up in a bar. It was a little cantina a few hours outside of Mos Eisley; it was much cleaner than the other bars you’d seen, and if it weren’t for your foul mood, you might have even enjoyed it.

‘What’s up with you?’ Din asked quietly.

‘Nothing.’ You murmured. ‘I’m fine.’

‘Your tone is off, cyar'ika.’

‘Leave it.’ You snapped. ‘I’m getting another drink.’

You moved the baby off your lap, placing him on Din’s instead. After digging around in your pocket for some credits, you quickly stood up and sauntered over to the other side of the bar, leaning against the wooden counter as you waited for your turn to be served. It wasn’t too busy - there were a few people floating about. Locals, you figured. It was a slightly fancier part of Tatooine, and you could see the difference in the people who were frequenting the establishment.

You were trying not to think about Din, or the fact he still refused to talk about what was going on between the two of you. You’d long surpassed the point of no return for your friendship - no, you were too invested now. Either he had to prove he was in it for the long run, or you had to walk away. Was that an unfair ultimatum? Not really. He’d started it, after all.

‘What’s a pretty thing like you doing waiting for a drink?’

You glanced up to see a man beside you, a half-empty flagon of beer in his hand. He was tall, dark and handsome; the type you used to briefly date back on Corellia. He smelt of expensive aftershave, and his clothes gave the impression he was quite well-off.

‘I could ask you the same.’ You replied.

‘So you think I’m pretty?’ The man quirked an eyebrow at you.

‘No, I...I mean, yeahhhh.’ You turned to face him, offering him a smile.

‘You’re here with that Mandalorian.’ He glanced over his shoulder, before leaning a little closer towards you. ‘What’s his deal?’

‘Honestly, I couldn’t tell you.’ You snorted. ‘I don’t think he knows what his deal is.’

The conversation was completely innocent - after all, you had no intention of anything happening with whoever this guy was. And even if you did, weren’t you technically single? You certainly weren’t in a relationship, at least not according to Din Djarin. He had no standing ground, nor any right to be jealous.

Still, that didn’t stop his entire body filling with rage the minute the man put his hand on your arm, and it certainly didn’t stop him immediately packing up all your stuff to leave the bar. Even the notion of another man touching you made him want to scream - let alone the actual sight of it. It was the way your new friend leant in a little too close, and laughed a little too hard at your jokes. You were funny, but you weren’t that funny.

‘We’re leaving.’ Din declared, suddenly appearing beside you.

‘Okay.’ You shrugged, glancing up at him. ‘I’ll meet you back on the ship later.’

‘No, I mean we’re leaving.’

You snorted. ‘I think you’ll find that I’m staying right here- oof!’

You let out a small squeak as the Mandalorian grabbed you with his free arm, tossing you over his shoulder. Before you could protest, or even apologise to the man beside you, he was marching you out of the bar and into the cool evening air of Tatooine. All meanwhile, the baby was giggling at the site of you with your legs in the air and your face planted against Din’s back.

The ship wasn’t far - probably not more than a two minute walk. Din had been conscious of the Child’s little legs when he’d parked at the outpost; he was becoming more independent now and insisted on walking places himself. It was just that he could only walk for five minutes before getting tired, but the little sod would cry if you tried to carry him. He was lucky he was cute.

‘What the hell was that?’ You snapped, barely catching your balance as Din planed you on the floor of the ship.

‘That man was flirting with you.’ Din simply stated. ‘I didn’t like it.’

‘You...’ you trailed off. ‘You didn’t like it?’

‘He was overstepping his boundaries.’

‘You were jealous, weren’t you?’ You let out a derivative snort, folding your arms across your chest.

‘You knew I could see you.’ Din was still calm.

‘And? It’s not like we’re in a relationship, is it?’ You murmured.

‘That’s not-’

‘ - let me finish!’ You cut him off. ‘I have been trying for weeks to talk to you about it, to see where I stand with you, and you always change the subject or try to run away from it! You have no right to be jealous, or to act like I’m with you because you have made it abundantly clear that I am not. Your high horse is basically a shetland fucking pony, Din Djarin!’

There was a silence between you for a moment. It felt good to have finally said it - you just wished you’d been a bit more gentle. Din had never seen you shout before, or even come close to losing your temper. He knew it was bound to happen but he had never imagined it being at him. Then again, if you’d tried to pick him up and force him out the bar against his will, he would have been angry too. (The thought of you even trying it was rather comical).

‘I was scared.’

That hadn’t been the response you were expecting.

‘Of me?’ Your voice was quiet.

‘I’m in love with you.’ He said bluntly. ‘That terrifies me.’

‘I...fuck.’ You felt as though the wind had been stolen from your lungs, and replaced with whatever grey smoke the Crest spat out when the engines were broken. ‘I love you too - but why does it scare you?’

‘Because it means I can’t ever leave you.’ Din continued. ‘And I want to give you the life you deserve but I don’t know if I can. Not with my job, not with the things I’ve done.’

‘Din.’ You took a step forward, his large hands enveloping yours as you did. ‘D’you think I care about any of that?’

‘I was afraid to ask.’

‘No offence, but you can be a bit thick sometimes.’ A small chuckle escaped your lips, even if tears were forming in your eyes. ‘I don’t care where we are or where we go, as long as I’m with you, then I have the life I want. That’s why I’ve been so off these last few weeks, because I was so scared you were going to turn around and push me away.’

‘That’s not going to happen.’ He said. ‘I’m not going to leave you - you have my word. I promise.’

‘So why don’t we just stop being scared and start just...being together?’

He briefly stepped away, hitting the control panel to turn off the lights in the ship. His helmet hit the ground with a thud, and a moment later, his hands were on your hips as he pulled you towards him. Din crashed his lips onto yours, closing the gap between you with a desperate kiss. You’d kissed before - more times than you could even begin to count - but this one felt different. It had meaning; purpose, in fact. It was as though the last few months’ worth of feelings that the Mandalorian had been pushing aside had finally broken.

‘I love you, cyar'ika.’ He quietly murmured again. ‘And I’m sorry.’

‘Stop saying sorry.’ You tearfully smiled, forehead still pressed against his. ‘And I love you too, even if you’re a bit of a dumbass sometimes.’

‘Say it again.’

‘I love you, dumbass.’ You quietly said.

‘Is that now your equivalent to cyar'ika?’

#mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #mando x reader #mando imagine #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #mandalorian x you #mando x you #din djarin x you #mandalorian fluff #mandalorian angst #star wars imagines #star wars x you #star wars fanfic #star wars x reader

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samstree · 3 years

Note

for the cliche tropes, 27. Help me I’m being hit on at a bar please be my fake boyfriend for a second with geraskier, if you please <3

Thank you for the prompt! 🌼 Sorry it’s quite late but please enjoy this tiny piece of pining on this fine Friday.

(1.3k, geraskier, slow dancing, drunk jaskier, protective geralt, no warnings.)

“Oh, Geralt! Fancy seeing you here!” Jaskier exclaims, as if they didn’t come to the banquet together.

The bard reaches Geralt’s table and sweeps away his ale in one swift motion before chugging it all down. When he finally puts down the tankard, Geralt finds himself the recipient of the bard’s most charming and yet most performative smile.

Jaskier is nervous.

“Phew!” His hands flail dramatically. “Fine evening, isn’t it?”

Geralt hums, waiting for the catch.

“Let’s dance!”

Without getting a reply, Jaskier is already dragging Geralt up from his seat. With all the wine and ale in his system, Jaskier’s hold is not strong enough to manhandle a bulky witcher, but they end up at the edge of the dance floor anyway.

Jaskier’s warm palms rest flush against Geralt’s waist, and their faces are only a hand’s breadth away. Geralt can feel the heat on the bard’s flushed cheeks and hear the pounding of his heart in the din of the room. They sway to the gentle music.

It’s…close, too close. Geralt needs a distraction.

“What’s the catch, Jask?”

The bard scoffs, almost offended. “Do I require a reason to dance with you? Or am I not allowed to just enjoy quality time with my favorite witcher?”

Geralt simply lifts an eyebrow.

“All right. You are too smart for your own good.” Jaskier chews on his lips, again, nervously. “There is this one gentleman, who may have been too eager for my…company, despite my explaining of the situation.”

“Which is?”

“That I’m in love and thus unavailable?” Jaskier says as if it’s obvious. Geralt frowns with worry.

“Still?” the witcher asks quizzically. “Valdo left nearly a year ago, Jaskier. It isn’t healthy.”

That is the wrong thing to say because Jaskier flinches at the name. Hurt flashes across those cornflower blue eyes, and Jaskier looks too dejected, too similar to how Geralt found him at his worst, in pain and alone and roaring drunk. He never wants to see Jaskier like that again.

“Well, no matter,” Jaskier chuckles tightly. “It’s not like the guy took the hint and left me alone, so I had to improvise. Now, before you give me another lecture or something, you need to know that I had no choice but to—”

“What did you do?” Geralt lets the music and the crowd lead the two of them around the dance floor, careful not to bump into another couple.

The bard regains his balance, looking contrite.

“I may have implied that, um, the person I’m in love with is here tonight.” He pauses before continuing reluctantly. “Or I may have said plainly that he is…a certain witcher.”

“Jaskier…”

“I know. I know! But he was relentless and I couldn’t get away!” he pleads.

“Hmm.”

Geralt’s hands tighten on Jaskier’s shoulders protectively. The bard is too drunk to even keep up with the dance, let alone fight off some unwanted pursuer. In truth, he’s only relieved that he is here with Jaskier, even though the lie is hitting a bit too close to home.

Holding Jaskier like this, swaying with him gently, is once again reminding Geralt of what he isn’t allowed to dream. He no longer dares these days. Not when he’s the one pushing Jaskier away time and time again, not when he’s the one who let Jaskier slip through his fingers and end up with Valdo, not when he’s the one who inadvertently caused Jaskier’s broken heart.

“Oh fuck.” Jaskier hisses, his body tensing. “He’s coming towards us. Okay, act natural! Wait, what is natural if we were together? Oh…um… Just roll with me, will you?”

Before Geralt can reply, Jaskier’s mouth is on his. The kiss is as chaste as it can be—Jaskier is only pecking at his lips gently, never pushing in. Geralt only remembers to close his eyes after a moment, and forces himself to respond as such. To keep up the front, he tells himself, lest the guy is watching.

And he is. Deliberate footsteps are circling the dance floor, not far from them. Geralt concentrate on identifying the man’s heartbeat and his movement—

Jaskier sucks on his lower lip once, twice, before letting go. He buries his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck, his body still taut like a statue.

“Is he gone?”

Warm breaths ghost over the skin of Geralt’s neck and he struggles to open his eyes. The man is not gone. In fact, he’s observing them intently, just shy of stepping into the dance floor himself. Through the moving crowd, Geralt can make out his golden hair and slim shoulders, almost a spitting image of one Valdo Marx, only a little taller.

Geralt hates this man immediately.

Perhaps it’s those too piercing eyes, or the way his presence is making Jaskier nervous like this, or just the look of him. Geralt narrows his eyes dangerously.

“He is not,” Geralt says into Jaskier’s ear, mimicking a lover’s murmur, all the while not breaking eye contact. He’s heard so many times how his yellow eyes are monstrous, and Geralt is thankful for once. It takes some balls to not cower under a witcher’s glare, one that projects predator from afar. This one crumbles within seconds.

With a triumphant smirk, Geralt moves one hand up to cup the nape of Jaskier’s neck, the other one still pressed between his shoulder blades. He’s laying claim. Hopefully, the light can catch a glint of his fangs, but either way, the man is soon running off, tail between his legs.

“Now he’s gone,” Geralt’s voice comes out deeper and rougher. He clears his throat. “Should be out of the gate by this point.”

They are standing impossibly close. The anxious rise and fall of Jaskier’s chest slow to normal and they separate. Geralt misses the contact. He now has a harder time keeping Jaskier steady on his feet. Yes, that’s the sole reason to miss holding Jaskier.

“I—” Jaskier’s gaze is still fixed somewhere far away behind Geralt’s shoulder, oblivious of how reluctantly the witcher is retracting his hands. “Sorry I did that.”

“Hmm. It worked.”

The bard lets out a dry laugh. “Thank the fuck you are here. I wouldn’t have known what to do.”

“You can take care of yourself.”

Geralt only has one hand at Jaskier’s elbow, holding onto him with a featherlight touch. The music has come to an end and the quiet intimacy dissipates.

“Can I?” Jaskier says half-mockingly. “One look at that guy and I could barely breathe, Geralt, and he doesn’t even look that much like Val—him.”

Jaskier bites his lips in contrite, his eyes dimmed. Geralt dips his head to meet Jaskier’s gaze, the ocean blue so lost.

“Hey. I’ll be here if you need me,” he adds way too quickly, almost spluttering. “—to get rid of unwanted attention, that is.”

Jaskier doesn’t seem to notice the awkwardness. Instead, a soft smile stretches across his face. Wordlessly, the bard leans forward to place a small kiss on Geralt’s cheek.

Geralt has to hide the gasp, his eyes wide. He doesn’t know why he’s more affected this time. Is it because it’s real? A voice at the back of his head asks. The last time—even with Jaskier’s lips all over him—was only a show, but this one is full of Jaskier’s heart.

“You are sweet.” Jaskier wipes at the spot with a thumb. “What would I do without you, my friend?”

“Hmm.”

Friend. It’s one little word that Geralt has rejected time and time again, and just when he begins to want for more, he finds himself trapped in the very same word. The irony would be laughable if Geralt is not missing the warmth of Jaskier against him so much.

How the turntables.

Geralt lets Jaskier retreat into the crowd, and if he turns to smell the lingering scent of Jaskier on his shoulder, nobody needs to know.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #slow dancing #pre-relationship #protective geralt #pining geralt #friendzoned geralt #post-breakup jaskier #sad jaskier #drunk jaskier #the ex is valdo #I know I’ve been using Valdo a lot lately #what can i say #he's a blank slate in canon

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lavendertales · 3 years

Note

La multi ani Ari! You are phenomenal and I adore you so much 💜

I was wondering if you could write something with Javier Peña and F!Reader, they are in an age gap relationship, and hes’s being overly protective towards her because he has finally met the one. I also found this picture and I’m really curious to know what kind of vibes it gives you and if you could incorporate them into your writing 💜

Thank you!

thank you so much, Annie my sweet 💖 hope you like this!

be mine - Javier Peña x f!reader

gif: @hunterschafer

You knew that Javier was a very passionate and protective man in many aspects but you wouldn’t have guessed how deep his care ran once you entered his life.

You both had been quite stubborn at first, resisting the attraction you felt towards one another. On the one hand, you didn’t want to risk losing your assistant position at the embassy so getting intertwined with a colleague – who was your senior by a little over ten years, no less – was a big no. On the other hand, Javier considered you were too young to be involved with someone of his caliber, his many years of inconsistent and insatiable habits following him everywhere. It was very difficult, being forced to interact with you every single morning when he entered into the embassy and further whenever he needed documentation. You had infiltrated his thoughts and his heart for weeks and there was no shaking you off.

One evening, you heard him talking to Steve Murphy at the bar, despite the latter’s insistent signals that you were right behind them. You heard him pour his heart out over several glasses of whiskey and cigarettes, you heard every gentle word he had said about you, all spoken from the heart not many knew Javier still had. You had to admit you were relieved to find out the feeling was mutual and that despite all the risks that could arise, you both truly cared for each other.

And ever since then, Javier had been overly protective of you. It was in his nature anyway, but whenever he went out with you and saw other man looking crookedly at you, anger boiled in his veins. He chased them all off, all from his need to keep you safe and close to him. And given his reputation, the other men didn’t necessarily feel the need to fight Javier for you.

“Everything okay?” you ask him one late evening after a verbal altercation at a bar.

Javier huffs, avoiding your glare. “You don’t belong in this world, baby.”

You furrow your brows as you approach him, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders from behind. “What do you mean?”

“There’s too much pain and death going around for you be around me like this. If anything ever happened to you… I have no clue what I’d do.”

“How can anything happen to me while you take such good care of me, hm?”

That seems to sweeten him since he chuckles and pulls you around to look at you at last. He sees the fiery spark in your young eyes, that all too familiar flicker of life and excitement residing behind them and he cannot believe it’s all for him. He cannot believe how someone as stunning and wonderful as you would be so devoted to someone like him.

You sit down next to him and he nuzzles in the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent for the thousandth time, and he still could not get enough.

“I love you, you know?” he mumbles.

“I love you too.”

“I won’t let anyone and anything happen to you.”

He’s standing behind you, hands wrapped around you and resting comfortably on your stomach, pressing a chaste kiss on your forehead. You feel his words to be true. The man had your full trust and your love from the first day you’ve met him.

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#birthday celebration #requests #Javier Peña x reader #Javier Peña x female reader #Javier Peña x you #Javier Peña fluff #Javier Peña fic #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena x female reader #javier pena fluff #javier pena fic #pedro pascal

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iwishtobeastorm · 3 years

Note

Congrats on 200!!! Can I p’ease have “on my lap. Now.” with Din 💕

A/N: Thank you so so so much for requesting, Padi! It means so much to me. I hope this won't disappoint!

Feathers - Din Djarin/Reader

Warnings: mentions of death, meantions of someone trying to hurt reader, fluff, innocent reader

Words count: 1500+

Celebration | Masterlist

Din didn't want it to go like that. It was supposed to be an easy job. The bounty was some wealthy kid, running away from his parents, who wanted him back and hired Din. He didn't want to take you with him, but you begged for it so sweetly he eventually subdued and that was a mistake. He should've known you'll be a distraction, he should've known his feeling for you will get in a way. You two waited for him to appear at one of those shady bars, which made Din uncomfortable since the first moment you two stepped in. All the people were gazing at you as if you were a peace of meat. He wanted to turn around and lead you back to the ship, but you gave him one of your little smiles, assuring him everything is okay, and it gave him comfort, at least for a while. Until he went after the kid into the back of the bar, leaving you on your own. He almost had the boy, when the scream echoed through the whole building, and Din knew it was you. He let the kid run away, storming back into the bar, his heart thrumming wildly in his chest. What he was met with when he entered, made him see red. This huge man was dragging you out of the bar, kicking and steaming, the Baby crying in your arms from distress. Din moved before he knew it.

"Let her go," he uttered through clenched teeth, pointing one of his blasters to the temple of the man's giant head. "Or what, tinman? I can take you down anytime," he chuckled, yanking you closer to him, making you fight against his hold again, but it was hard when you had to hold the Child too. "I said, let her go. This is your only warning," Din felt his blood boiling at the sight of your teary eyes, opened wildly in fear, while the baby clutched to you, hiding from the man, who dared to put his dirty hand on his clan. That's not something he could get away with alive. And he didn't. Din gave you a nod, which you understood, pressing the baby closer and closing your eyes. What happened next played through your head for hours. The sound of blaster shooting, a choked grunt and heavy thud, as the man collapsed to the ground, his big hand finally releasing you. You opened your eyes again, just to find Din, rushing into his arms, hiding your face underneath his chin. He pulled you close tightly, stroking your back, while whispering softly to you to comfort you, his eyes scanning the room, sending a clear message to anyone who was inside, staring at the three of you with unhidden surprise. Do not mess with Mando's clan. You've been unusually quiet on your way back to Razor Crest, darting behind him with the baby, who was already back to his coos and babbling, waving his arms and tugging on your hair. Din wanted to do something to make you feel better, but he was always so lost when it came to offering you comfort or any sign of affection in general. You were the one good in that. You always knew what to say and what to do. Not him. So he stayed quiet and when the hatch closed behind you, he hid in the cockpit like a coward. He was desperate. He wanted to do something, pull your close and assure you that he'll never let anything like that happen to you again, that he'll always protect you, but he knows he won't be able to get the words past his throat. Every time he's in your presence, he somehow loses his ability to speak. You enchanted him ever since he first met you, hiring you as the baby's caretaker. You are everything he isn't. Sweet, gentle, bright and innocent. You bring so much light into his life by just simply existing by his side. Your laughter warms his heart every time he hears it, the songs you hum get stuck in his head until he's humming them under his breath too, your touches burning at his skin for hours, driving him crazy. But you're not his. He would love it, Gods know he would. Just the thought of it makes him delirious. But there's no way a girl like you could ever want him. Or at least he persuaded himself that's true a long time ago. Maybe that's why he ignored all those glances you give him, all those wannabe brief touches, all your need to be close to him and please him. You don't have

enough courage to confess your feelings for him and definitely not when you think you know he doesn't feel the same. You would lose everything if you did, you're sure about that. Din and the baby are the best things that ever happened to you, there's no way you'll let yourself ruin it.

You two avoid each other for a few hours, until you calm yourself down enough to face him again, climbing up the ladder to the cockpit, your nervousness and anxiety growing, making your chest feel too tight, while your heartbeat thunders in your ears. You slowly step closer, until you stop a few feet away from his seat. He's casually sitting there, facing the white tunnel of hyperspace, pushing some buttons on the control panel. You bite on your lower lip, clasping your hands in front of you and squeezing tightly to control your nerves. "Uhm- Din?" You murmur, trying to get his attention, which works immediately as he turns in his seat towards you, his dark visor meeting your gaze. "What is it, mesh'la?" He can't help but worry. Your expression is full of anguish and turmoil, which squeezes on his heart with need to comfort you. "I- I came to apologize. I should never go on the hunt with you, I'm sorry the bounty escaped because of me. And- I- I apologize for all the troubles I bring your way. I-I-," you take in a shaky breath, trying to hold back your tears, head tilting down to hide your flushed cheek, embarrassment coursing through you. "It was stupid to think I could ever handle it. I just- I wanted to be by your side. I- I get lonely here on the ship with the baby while you're away, you know? And I thought that- you said it'll be an easy bounty so I thought I could just be there with you and watch but I- I ruined it all for you. I'm so sorry," you whisper, hot streams rolling down you pretty cheeks and Din could scream. This is not what he wanted. He didn't mean to make you feel bad about his own mistake. You were attacked by some di'kut and now you're apologizing for things that are not your fault at all. How could he ever let it get this far? "On my lap. Now," he mutters and you tense, not sure if you've heard it right. "What?" You murmur, wiping away your tears. "Come here, cyar'ika," Din says, patting his knee. Your nervousness could match his anytime as you approach him. You look up at him for confirmation, when you stand right in front of him and once he gives you a gentle nod, you straddle his lap, resting your hands on his shoulders. You gaze at him through the visor of his helmet, your eyes meeting his as always. He puts his hands on your waist, pulling you closer, the blush on your cheeks mirroring the one Din hides underneath the helmet. "You did nothing wrong, ad'ika. I'm sorry I left you there alone, I should've known it was a dangerous place for you. But please, don't blame yourself," he states, cupping your cheek, making you lean into his touch as you close your eyes. "So you're not mad at me?" You assure, voice little, making Din's hand squeeze tighter on your waist. "I could never be mad at you, mesh'la," he states, making you smile, as you wrap your hand around his wrist, planting a kiss to his gloved palm. It makes Din's heart do a little jump, the print of your lips setting his body on fire. You open your pretty eyes, looking at him, before you let go of his wrist and your hands find his shoulders again, pulling yourself flush to him, your forehead meeting his helmet, making Din hold back a gasp. "Thank you for saving me today. I don't know what I would do without you," you whisper, closing your eyes and biting on your lower lip, your heart racing in your chest. "I will never let anyone hurt you again, cyar'ika, I promise," he says, his baritone rumbling through your body, making your insides tingle. "Okay," you murmur with a smile, making Din smile softly too. You both yearned to be like this for months, dancing around each other like two feathers in the air, until you finally collided, ending up in the safety of each other's arms. Neither you or Din could be happier, because even though you both want so much more, you know this is just a beginning of something amazing, something greater. So even though Din didn't want it to go like that, he won't complain about it now.

-------------------------------------

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multific · 3 years

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Protective

Din Djarin x Reader

Summary: During another bar fight, you save the child and nearly sacrifice your life. This leaves Din to face his feelings.

You had been travelling with Din enough to know when things are about to go down.

Even if he wore a helmet, you could read his body language very well.

Now, as you were in a cantina, getting information and breakfast for the kid, you saw it.

The anger in his posture as the person just said something mean about you and the kid to annoy the Mandalorian, and it worked.

Of course it did, Din would never tolerate anyone talking to you or Grogu that way. Not now, not ever.

They can talk hours on end about him and his kind, but you? No one is allowed to talk to you that way.

You were quick to grab the baby and hide. Hide while Din handled the situation.

You were used to it by now. You always hid somewhere while Din did what he had to do.

But this time, it was different.

This time, Din didn’t see the explosive thrown your way, but you did. Out of instinct you shielded the child.

Everything happened so fast.

The next thing you knew, you woke up in your bed, feeling tired and terrible. Your head hurt and you were very thirsty. You heard Grogu making noises beside you as you saw a glimpse of him as he left the room. Probably to call Din.

And surely enough the Mandalorian soon arrived to your side with a bottle of water.

“Thank you.” you said as you drank. “What happened?” you asked.

“It was my fault. I should have paid more attention. One of them had a grenade of sorts. You saved the kid, but due to the explosion, you got hurt. I tried to heal you the best I could, but I’m afraid you still have a wound on your right side.”

“How’s my baby?” you asked, not even caring about yourself. You didn’t even notice how you referred to him as your baby. But Din sure did.

Just as you asked, Grogu climbed up and laid down on your chest, it was his attempt to hug you. “Thank the Maker you are okay. Din, please don’t blame yourself. It was my instinct to save him.”

“Still, if I paid more attention, this wouldn’t have happened in the first place, and you wouldn’t be hurt.”

“It’s their fault for picking a fight with you. They should just let us eat and we would have left.”

“From now on, I will pay more attention. I don’t need you to take another blow for the kid.” he said placing his hand on yours. You grabbed his gloved hand and looked at his visor, trying to sit up slightly, supporting Grogu with your other hand. You felt the pain in your side, but you didn’t flinch, trying not to worry Din too much.

“It was my choice. And I would do it again. I don’t know what I would do if he got hurt.”

“From now on, I will protect you even more.”

“Good, because I will protect the two of you better as well.” you said smiling up at Din.

He let out a long sigh, of course, this is exactly what he expected from you. He watched as you were looking at Grogu smiling to yourself.

Then you heard a hissing sound, your eyes moved to Din and you saw as he was just about to lift his helmet off, you quickly closed your eyes and moved your hand in front of them.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice not modulated.

“What are you doing? I’m not going to look, just put it back on.” you said as your hand moved around trying to find the helmet you heard he placed down. But he grabbed your wrist and brought it up to his face.

You felt his stubble. You tried to take your hand away but he didn’t let you.

“Your creed...” you said with a soft voice, eyes still closed.

“You mean to me more than my creed ever did or will. Please tell me my feelings are not wrong, please tell me you feel the same.” hearing him talk like that, you tightened your grip on Grogu before placing him in your lap, moving your other hand to the other side of his face. Pulling him in for a kiss.

“I love you.” you said as you pulled back. “But I don’t want you to break your creed.”

You heard Grogu making happy baby noises as he watched you.

Din smiled, his heart swelling with love as he leaned in one more time to put another sweet kiss to your lips. After the kiss he put his forehead against yours, watching your closed eyes.

You were too good to be true.

A woman who takes care of his son, sacrifices herself to save him, and now, refusing to look at his face, because she respects his creed.

Din moved to place his helmet on again.

One you heard the hissing noise, you slowly opened your eyes. Smiling from ear to ear.

“One day.” you said.

“One day.” he repeated.

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writings-of-a-british-fangirl · 3 years

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A Lesson In Mando’a [Din Djarin x Reader]

Title: A Lesson In Mando'a Summary: You'd been a bounty hunter most of your life; you were use to sleeping rough, fighting for your life, the harsh realities of life. What you weren't use to was the soft feelings of comfort, the warmth of a family. Warnings: Like one swear word I think ? Request: N/A

A/N: I posted this about half an hour ago, but it wasn’t showing up in the tags, so hopefully this one does!

A/N 2: Let me know if you have any other Din or Star Wars requests!

PART 1: A Lesson In Mando’a PART 2: A Lesson In Tradition PART 3: A Lesson In Touch

Din Djarin~A Lesson In Mando'a

Despite not fully understanding 'the Way', you had come to respect it. You particularly admired (almost envied) the beskar armour that came with it. It was certainly one of the better perks that came with being a Mandalorian. That, and the instant fear reaction most had whenever the Mandalorian walked into the room. Din (you had recently learned that was 'Mando's' real name) was quite a character as he strode into any cantina. He drew the attention of many patrons that occupied the bar, whether they chose to avert their eyes or stare at him. His shiny new beskar, along with the menacing helmet, was quite a sight to behold.

And, yet, you found yourself -on more than one occasion- staring at the Mandalorian with admiration... Affection almost. You knew it wasn't allowed. It wasn't compatible with Din's lifestyle, nor yours; it didn't make any sense, logically. On the surface, you knew that, but deep down you longed for a connection with the Mandalorian, one that served as more than a business deal, or an alliance of convenience. For a while, you had tried to asses Din's feelings about you.

At first, you were pretty sure he hated you: you did, after all, steal a bounty from him. It wasn't your fault that both your employer at the time and the guild he worked for had given you the same target, and it certainly wasn't your fault you were faster. As soon as you had caught the target, you were out of there: you knew of the Mandalorian's reputation, and you were smart enough to not want to fight him head to head. You didn't get to meet Din face to face until you had both been in the same town, both being hunting down by the Imps. You'd helped him escape them directly, and he'd offered you a lift in his ship, the Razor Crest. And, then you met his son... And, kind of never left.

You'd intended just to leave as soon as you can, to be dropped off at the next planet. You didn't want to over stay your welcome; your companion didn't seem like the type to host company. Though, if you were being honest, you didn't think he'd be the type to have a child either. He was cute: the child. And, while you didn't have many parental feelings, you had to admit the little green gremlin was pulling on your heart strings.

You sat in one of the chairs in the cock pit, with Din in the main front one flying. You suspected he'd put you there so he could keep an eye on you. And, while you couldn't blame him, you did start to feel tired. Did this ship even have beds? It didn't seem like a traditional living vehicle, definitely not built for comfort. Your eyes scanned around the cockpit, wondering if you could sneak down to the hull and take a nap there. While your eyes were wandering around, you spotted something out of the corner of your eye: the child. You smiled at him as he gazed a you. He turned his head slightly, his ears flopping to one side. The child looked curiously at you: you were a stranger, and you doubted he'd interacted with many people besides the Mandalorian. He seemed quite protective over the kid.

Before you could realise what was happening, the child had wandered towards you and was reaching up at you. You hesitated for a second before picking him up. You didn't want to offend Din by over stepping any boundaries, but who could say no to those big, pleading eyes.

You held him carefully, gently placing him in your lap, being mindful of how small he is.

"He seems to like you," Din murmured.

You jumped, a little bit startled; you'd be trapped in the moment, your eyes trained on the child. He smiled up at you, enjoying being held, and the feeling of warmth. You imagined your robes were much more comfortable than the beskar.

"Huh, I'm usually not good with kids, but he is a cutie," you smile up at the Mandalorian, "Is this what you look like under the helmet?"

You feel him tense up.

"Sorry I didn't mean offense by it," you pause, pursing your lips.

"No, its fine. Not too many people make jokes with me, that's all," he reassured.

"Well, no offence, you don't seem like the joking type," you shrug, "Or, maybe, who knows: you might be laughing under there all the time and just nobody can tell."

"Yeah, I'm the life of the party," Din dead panned.

You chuckled a little, and although you didn't know it at the time, Din's heart skipped a beat. 'That was weird,' Din thought, 'That's never happened before...' He tried to bury it, hide the thought away, as he did with a lot of his emotions. This one, however, seemed to stick around.

And, so did you.

It had been a few months since you'd joined him. Originally, you offered to help on jobs, fix the ship, take care of the child, whatever he wanted- to repay him for stealing his bounty. Well, that's what you told yourself. Originally, you believed you were in his debt, but over time you grew more and more fond of his company- and the child of course. He was adorable, and he offered a light distraction from the chaos the universe seemed to be in. Not to mention, your growing affection for the Mandalorian was keeping you pleasantly occupied.

~~~

Din was off hunting a bounty. Usually, you'd go with him, but he had insisted it would be an easy job. Besides, you weren't going to fight him on this: you liked spending time with the kid, and it'd give you some time to catch up on your sleep. The Crest wasn't the most comfortable place to sleep, and you always felt slightly on edge because the Mandalorian practically slept battle ready. It was the perfect excuse to have a rest day- those came few and far between.

The Razor Crest was parked safely in a remote location, with all security measured engaged. You told yourself it would only be a small nap. Besides, the kid was tired too. You'd fed him recently, and he always napped after food. If he was tired, you might as well sleep beside him- for his comfort, of course.

Originally, you were going to put him to bed in the little make shift cot Din had made for him, but you figured he'd be just as comfortable in your arms. You made your way up to the cock pit. It was nightfall, and the stars visible from this planet were quite a sight to behold. Gently, you held the child and began explaining to him all the different star constellations, and what they meant. You weren't sure he understood basic, but the way he looked up at you, and then to the stars, you figured he was understanding something.

"And, this one," you pointed out a large cluster of stars, "Is called 'The Warrior', just like your daddy, little one. That one is 'The Queen,' and this one-"

You stopped yourself. The kid had finally fallen asleep. You gently wrapped the blanket around both of you, and leaned back into the chair. Within a couple of minutes, your eyes had drooped, and sleep had overcome you. Before you completely drifted off, you had one thing on your mind: you hoped you would see your dear Mandalorian soon.

~~~

When the bounty hunter turned dad returned from his latest outing, he was tired. He threw the bounty into carbonite, and trudged further up the ship. It was only after he'd had a moment to breathe, that he realised there was no sign of you- or the child. His heart began to race. He opened the closet, praying to find the child inside a sleep.

He didn't.

Fuck. This was bad. He should've never left the child- what if he was hurt now? What if you were? Surely, you hadn't taken the child. You wouldn't do that to him... Would you?

His last resort before tearing apart the place was to check the cock pit. Logically, he knew you could be up there, but you usually spent most of your time in the hull. That's where your bed was, where the food was, where the child usually played. That's where he thought you'd be.

Din climbed up the ladder, keeping an eye out in case anything had happened to you or the child- in case it was a trap. Instead of any sign of the Imps, droids, or guild interference, he saw your sleeping body. In your arms, was the child. Din pulled himself up and landed as quietly as he could, so as to not disturb you. He watched you for a second; you looked so peaceful, and so well rested. He was envious. His eyes dropped down to the child; he was curled into your body, with his fingers gently wrapped around your thumb. He was softly snoring, almost purring as he slept. Din took one step forward, but his armour boot clanked against the floor a little too loudly. The child perked up; his ears flinched at the sound, and he woke up. When he saw it was Din, he cooed for him, and began to wriggle in your arms.

The Mandalorian stepped forward, and reached for the kid. You began to wake as well.

"D-Din?" you ask, eyes fluttering open, and when you registered it was him, you sat up, "You're back!"

You then registered that the baby was trying to wiggle out of your grasp. Adjusting your grip on him, you lifted the child up and offered him over to Din.

"Sorry little guy, did you want to go back to your daddy?" you asked, and the baby cooed in response, "Here you go."

Din gently took the child from you and held him close.

"How was it? An easy job?" you asked.

He was lost in thought. About you, about the child, about his new found family. His heart had fluttered when you had called him daddy. Well, it wasn't technically you, but he felt it in his heart nonetheless. He had been feeling that a lot around you lately: especially when you held the child. It almost felt like he had... Like he had a family. Din hadn't known what that felt like for a long time. Sure, he had the fellow Mandalorians, but they offered no affection like you did. He didn't feel as warm around them as he did with you. He-

You were still expecting answer. Your smile dazed him.

"Yes it was, cyar'ika," he murmured, looking down at his son, "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you missed my company"

"Maybe," you smiled, "The child did at least."

That was enough, for now.

Din was about to turn around and go back down the hull, when you spoke up again.

"Din, you keeping calling me... Ah, c-cyr-"

"Cyar'ika?"

"Yes, that!" you pause, "What does it mean?"

"Oh that," Din could feel his face heat up behind the mask (which he was very thankful for at this moment, other wise he feared he'll die of embarrassment from the deep blush on his face), "I- Ur, it means... It's Mando'a for beloved."

"Oh," you felt your face heat up, "I-"

"-I can stop if it makes you feel uncomfortable-"

"-No! No, I... I like it."

It wasn't quite a full admission of your feelings, but for now... For now, you were happy. With Din, with the child: with your family.

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im-poe-dameron · 3 years

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DIN DJARIN MASTERLIST

All of the Din Djarin fics I will write and have written can be found below! Read the warnings beforehand please! Enjoy!

Under no circumstances may you steal my work, say it's yours, or post it somewhere else. The writings I put on here are mine unless stated otherwise.

smut =🔥| angst =💫| fluff =🌙

Aliit |💫

Summary: They took his son, all he had left, and was going to war to get him back. Except now he had the help of you, a Jedi who was answering the call.

Prey | 18+🔥| ao3

Summary: There was a power play between you and Din. One that always happened, but this time it was his turn to hold command.

I Wanna Be Yours | 18+🔥

Summary: Between you not getting a break from taking care of his son and him chasing one bounty after the next. The stress was bound to make you snap.

Black Velvet (series) | 18+🔥| 1980s!Din Djarin | ao3 | ONGOING

Summary: Din Djarin wasn’t someone who took kindly to people walking in, shitting on his bar, and sticking around. But he’d make an exception for you.

Breaking Point | 18+🔥| ao3

Summary: There was a game between you and him that had begun. Of course, you never expected him to take it that far.

Enough |💫 | King!Din

Summary: An argument ensues as you fight Din on his decision.

Serenity |🌙 | King!Din

Summary: A soft morning with Din.

The Flames of Fate (series) | 18+🔥| ao3 | indefinite hiatus

Summary: When fate ties two people together, what happens? What determines that those two people are meant to be in each other's lives? Perhaps it's luck, or maybe it truly is the entity that is fate.

Sweet Smiles |🌙

Summary: If there’s one thing he can’t handle. It’s your smile.

Distractions | 18+🔥| part two

Summary: Things turn out for the better once he realizes you have a fixation on one thing… (thighs)

The End of Love | 18+🔥| Witch au | ao3

Summary: Beware the witch that lives in the woods. a warning that he did not heed for himself.

Stardust Chords | part one | part two | 18+🔥

Summary: Hatred is quite a thing to speculate from a man who doesn’t know how to yet determine his feelings.

Strength Among Stars (series) | 18+🔥| ONGOING

Summary: When traveling in search of Jedi, Din unknowingly makes a deal with one for transport.

Moondust (series) | 18+🔥| UPCOMING

Summary: Old friend reunite right as things begin to change.

Love is a fire that burns unseen | 18+🔥

Summary: On your list of things that could possibly happen while bounty hunting with din, dying from hypothermia wasn’t included. Nor was finally admitting the truth to yourself about your feelings.

Ghost of a Father | 💫

Summary: There’s a legend told about a Mandalorian who chose to protect his child.

Touch | 18+🔥| kinktober 2022

Summary: This was about him trusting you enough to feel that which he was deprived of his whole life. Touch.

Never Break The Chain | 18+🔥| Jurassic Park AU | ONGOING

Summary: Years after you lost contact and parted ways, he comes back into your life. In the most drastic way possible.

Still of Your Hands | 18+🔥| Kinktober 2023

Summary: “Din was always scared he would hurt you. Always tentative to give into your desires of being taken apart roughly, because he was a gentle person when it came to you. His life revolved around violence, yet when it came to this—you—he was anything but that.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin imagine #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin smut #din djarin series

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nyasiaaaaa · 3 years

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The Little things

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem reader

Word count: 8k

Warnings: established relationship, shooting, angst, Smut (18+), spanking, Dom/Sub, oral sex ( m and f receiving) P in V, fingering ( f receiving), spitting, use of good girl ( once), breeding kink if you squint, Fluff, helmet-less Din ( he only wears it when he’s outside), tw eating

A/N: First time writing smut and first time writing for a Pedro character. For @its--fandom--darling 1k follower celebration!!! Thank you @absurdthirst for all your help. Thank you @aripariii for looking over this.

 You throw your head back in frustration as you contemplate giving up feeding the kid. You had been trying to feed him vegetables for the past week. Every time you wanted to feed him some smashed peas with a spoon, he would use the force to push it into your mouth. You lift your head as you take a deep breath, ready to try again when Din walks in and throws jerky on the table for the kid. You look at Din in disbelief before getting up to clean the mess while you let the kid eat.

“I’ll be back in a few; this shouldn’t take long,” Din announced as he stood in place, scanning the room for his blaster.

“You missing something,” you asked, hopping on one of the crates looking over at him with a mischievous smile

“Give it,” he grumbled out, walking up to you holding his hand out

“Give what,” you questioned as you tilted your head. “Give this,” you smiled, pulling out his blaster.

Din tried to reach for it as you pulled back “nope, let’s make a deal.”

“I don’t have time for games, cyar’ika,” he replied trying to convince you to give it up.

“Then let’s not play any. I’ll give you your blaster if you quit giving the kid what he wants when I’m trying to give him a balanced diet, ok.”

“Ok,” he agrees to take the blaster from your hand.

“Also, you don’t have to rush back for lunch; just make sure you are here for dinner” he gave you a nod in response as he fished, packing up his things.

You pick the kid up and dust him over, carrying him over to Din so he could say bye. Din looked down at his son and ruffled his head before looking at you. He bent down, placing his cold beskar helmet against your head. He didn’t need to say anything you already knew and vise versa. Din straightened up and walked towards the ramp before typing in buttons and letting it down.

As Din was walking away, he stopped to remind you for the millionth time, “cyar’ika, don’t leave the ship, this is one of the most dangerous plants and-“

“I know you’ve told me all this before. I won’t leave me. The kid and I are going to chill here and watch cartoons or something,” you told him, interrupting his repetitive speech.

He stood there hesitantly, debating in his head before choosing to just walk down the ramp and away. You guys never did that stop and turn around things you’ve seen in movies; there was no need to. He was always going to come back; he had promised you.

As soon as the Din was far away enough, you closed the ramp and started getting ready to leave. Dins birthday is coming up, and you’re trying to make him a chocolate cake. In one of your late-night pillow talks, you asked Din what he remembers from his childhood before the Mandalorian, he replies that he doesn’t remember a lot. What he does remember is how every year, for his birthday, his mom would make him a chocolate cake. It was the best thing he has ever eaten in his life, well, the second-best thing he adds a few seconds later.

Since then, you have been collecting all the ingredients you need to make the cake over the next couple of weeks. You have everything but cocoa powder, the most crucial ingredient. You’ve looked everywhere, every plant, every website you couldn’t find it anywhere else but this plant.

You don’t want to go against what Din has asked you, especially because you said you wouldn’t. Still, you just wanted to do something special for him, for his birthday, because he deserved it. After all, he had done for you, you wanted to do something for him even if others might consider it a little thing you knew it would mean a lot to Din.

For example a few months ago, you tried to make sure Din started enjoying his meals more and eating meals more frequently. You did this by eating together like a clan Breakfast, Lunch, and dinner. You and Din sit next to each other at the small table you had built together, the kid in his high chair. Din had to adjust to it but never complained. He even started to look forward to it, rushing back to the ship sometimes after a bounty to make it in time for lunch or dinner.

You smiled, thinking fondly of the memories you’ve created with your clan over the past months as you started getting ready to leave. As you’re finishing up and was about to leave, you activate the droid; you have to watch the kid. This droid you had found in a past mission but never had a reason to fix it until now. You had been working on it the ship during flight and while Din was away on hunts.

When Din had asked you about the droid, you said you were programming the IG-11 to help clean around the ship. Din had been uncertain because of its killing background but ended up letting it go. You had lied though, you had kept the Droids programming and just added few changes to it. The changes were that when you left, its mission was to protect the child and take care of all its needs. It was to kill anyone or thing that came onto the ship unless it was you, Din, or the kid.

The little white lie was never a problem either because you only activated the droid when you and Din were out to watch the kid, and you always made sure to come back to the ship before Din to deactivate it, plus Din never questioned why he’d never seen the droid in “action.”

You set out to the local market nearby, where you were hoping to find the last ingredient so you could make the cake. Since you started a little late today and this is one of the most dangerous plants in the galaxy, you walked a bit faster than usual. The quicker you walked, the more excited you got. You were about to be done getting all the supplies to make the cake, just in time, because Dins birthday was in a couple of weeks. As you neared the market, you prayed to Maker that the thing you’re risking your life over was going to be here. You were incredibly proud of yourself for keeping this a secret from Din without him suspecting a thing.

***********

Din had tracked his bounty to a bar nearby; as he neared the bar, he could hear the noise of people inside. As soon as he stepped foot into the bar, it went silent, some people shaking in fear, others puffing their chest out and rising onto the balls of their feet slightly. Din looked around the bar; it wasn’t a bad bar. It just wasn’t the nicest.

The same color brown wood was throughout, green bar stools, plastic lawns chairs, mice having a party in every corner. Also, the floor was sticky; he could feel it with every step he took, he would have to use a little more effort than usual to lift his foot up, and you could hear it in every step. Din hadn’t spotted his bounty during his initial scan of the room, so he turned to the bartender to ask if he had seen the bounty. The bartender wasted no time and pointed to the backroom as he kept his head down. Din reaches the backroom and sees a smaller room same design and layout as the front with four men playing poker and three bodyguards. Dins usually not a man of words, but he doesn’t really feel like fighting today, so he tells them, “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The choice is yours.”

One guard rushes towards Din and tries to grab him, but Din is quicker; he pulls a blaster and shoots a bodyguard in the chest. He starts getting attacked by two of the bodyguards but takes them out with ease. After the last bodyguard fell to the floor, he heard footsteps pounding against the floor, then pressure is applied to his back, one of the poker players had jumped on him. Din falls backward, crushing the person underneath him; he then quickly rolls over, props himself on one knee, and pulls his blaster to shoot the guy. Din then whips his gun around to the other side of the room to find two people standing there shaking with their hands up, neither of them his bounty. Din snaps his head in the direction of the door he came in as he hears the bell ring that’s placed above the door. He pushes himself off the ground and starts chasing after the man.

*************

You had to go to three different vendors in the market, but you finally found the cocoa powder you were looking for, the lady dared to charge you three times its worth, but you didn’t care anything for Din. You had to wander deep into the market to find the cocoa, so on your way out, you were doing a slight jog. You had hoped you were making good time and would make it back in time, but you had no way of knowing for sure.

***************

Din is chasing after the guy, and he’s so close the guy knows this too. The bounty suddenly stops in the middle of a crowd; he pulls out a blaster and waves it. Sounds of shock and fear echoed threw out the public. Din steps forward to get the guy he needs alive; the man suddenly looks around frantically, pulls the closest person to him, and puts a gun to their head. It was you. The bounty had put the gun to your head. Din’s mind blanks. He has no other thoughts besides getting to you; he doesn’t care if the bounty is for him brought in cold. The bounty had touched what’s his.

Din quickly pulls his blaster ready to fire when suddenly you pull forward, folding over as you push down on your toes; you then spring up, moving your head back to strike the man’s head. The man then stumbles backward from the sudden impact. Din is quick to act as he runs towards the man and then shoots the man in his arm, the man falls to the ground, and Din proceeds to lift the man up and place him in handcuffs.

Din turns towards you to scan your body as he looks for any injuries. His beskar covered face then looks up towards you as he asks, “hurt,” and you proceed to shake your head no. Before you can ask if he’s hurt, he grabs your arm and pushes you in front of him, signaling to walk. You do walk as he follows, dragging the bounty behind him.

The journey back to the ship was quiet, too quiet even the bounty tried to speak on the tensions, “struggle in paradise, eh.”

Din pressed his finger into his wound for that one.

You’d been so distracted by the event that happened you had forgotten about the droid, but it was too late. Din had already typed in the code, and the ramp was coming down.

This was the first time, the one time Din wasn’t the faster person in the room; by the time Din pulled his blaster out, it was too late. It all happened in a blink of an eye. The bounty was dead. The droid shot him.

You were nervous, it’s not like you were in desperate need of the credits, but the money could have help, and you know Din just went through a lot to get him.

“The child is safe, would you li-“IG-11 started before Din shot him. You were about to complain, but then you remember the situation you were in.

You stood in silence for a couple of minutes before deciding to look at Din only to find him staring at you. You turned your head away so quick that pain in your neck started to arise. “Din I-I-I’m so so sorry this is all my fault, I’ll take the blame, ok. Just tell Greef Karga, ok. Can he be brought in dead? I mean, it’s not a big deal, y-y-you’ve done it before. Greef Karga will s-still a-a-a-accept it right …. RIGHT!”

Din didn’t utter a word as he dragged the body onto the ship; he put the body into carbon freeze and closed the ramp. Then he just stood there. He didn’t move an inch. The tension in the air was so thick, you could even breathe properly. You knew this was your time to leave him alone. Earlier, you had noticed that the kid wasn’t in IG-11s arms, so you were planning on looking for him, assuming that he had been put to sleep because this was around his nap time.

“Ok, so I see that you need alone time; I’m just going to find the kid and take care of him,” you said as you turned to go look for him.

You didn’t even get to do a complete 180 before Din grabbed onto your wrist and twisted it, pulling your body closer to him. You could hear the hard deep breaths he was taking as he stared right into your soul.

“Why,” he whispered out, hurt invoice.

“I-I-I,” you tried to speak, your eyes moving back and forth as you tried to find his.

“Why would you be so stupid? I told you not to leave, I told you this place was dangerous. You didn’t listen, why can’t you ever just listen.” He snapped at you, saying every word with a tremble. He let you go and started to walk away from dragging his feet across the floor.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out, your eyes watering up, tears threatening to fall.

Your words had made him stop dead in his tracks. “Are you” he questions as he walks towards you. Each step he took towards you, you took one back till your back hit the wall. You were nervous but weren’t afraid, you knew Din would never hurt you, but you still didn’t like to be around him when he got like this.

“WHAT WAS SO IMPORTANT THAT YOU RISKED YOUR LIFE FOR? DO YOU EVEN UNDERSTAND THAT YOU COULD HAVE DIED TODAY? DO YOU EVEN CARE?”

You did understand how sideways things could have gone, and you were trying to tell him that, but the words kept getting caught in your throat. So you ended up just slowly shaking your head in agreement.

“Are you sure cause you don’t seem like it? What about that FUCKING droid? You lied to me; why would you do that? You already know how I feel about them, so why would you do that. And to leave THE KID with it. I hope whatever you got was worth it. Just do what I brought you here for and watch the child,” he growled out as he walked away towards the cockpit so he could set our next coordinates.

You stood there for a second shook but started to move to find the kid after the ship took off. He was in your old room, which you and Din turned into a toddler’s room after you moved into his. You picked the kid up and sat down in a rocking chair. You hugged the kid close to you as tears fell down your cheek. You were angry. Din had no right to talk to you like that. You messed up, you understand that, but to yell at you like he did have. Plus, you had risked your life for something for him. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t know it; he should know you better than to just assume that you would have intentionally risked your life for something stupid.

***********

Din sat in his chair in the cockpit, feeling the weight of guilt immediately; the weight of his beskar couldn’t even compare to how heavy this felt. He felt awful; he regretted every word that came out of his mouth. He was just so angry; he had almost lost the only person he has ever cared about since his parents besides the kid. That was no excuse; he has had his fair share of screw-ups, the number of times he has almost gotten killed was too many to try to count on both hands.

He took his helmet off and put his hands in his head. He was stressed after all the events that happened today, but he was most worried about what had just happened in the bay. He deliberated on going down there and apologizing to you but ultimately decided to give you your space and apologize later today.

Din was going to apologize, he swore on Maker, but later that day, when he found you so he could apologize, you were sleeping in your old room. He was tempted to move you to the room you shared but then decide against it knowing you had fallen asleep in your old room for a reason. He slept in the cockpit that night; it didn’t feel right without you next to him. It’s funny Din spent most of his life alone; now he doesn’t even know how to sleep alone.

The next day Din did honestly try to apologize to you, but every time he entered the same room as you were in, you got up and left. Din understood that you probably need space after the fourth time stepping into the same room as you and you walking out. Din decided that you probably needed one more day.

The next day came, and you still were leaving every room he came into. He was sad; he missed the family dinners and lunches, he couldn’t wait any longer, he decided to apologize to you as soon as possible.

Din stepped into the kitchen area around lunchtime; he knew you were cooking something that requires your full attention, so he knew you wouldn’t step away.

“I’m-I’m sorry, I should have never yelled at you like that. I was angry because the bounty tried to run and then held you at gunpoint, he was touching what was mine, and I-I-I took it out on you. I should have never taken it out on you; I’m sure whatever you went out for was well worth it. I’m sorry, cyar’ika, ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

Din waited there for something, anything, you didn’t say a single word. You instead finished up your cooking, turned the stove off, and proceeded to fix you and the child a plate before heading off to the cockpit to eat.

Din stood there in shock; this is not how things usually go after an argument. Din stood there for a few minutes as he contemplated what to do next. Maybe he had said it wrong, he thought; Din hadn’t apologized a lot in his life, he could count how many times on one hand, and all those times he had been with you. All those times, you had also accepted it, so Din shook his head of the thought that he had said it wrong. He decided to give you another day to think about accepting his apology.

***********

A day turned into two, then three, next things Din knew, three weeks had passed. It had been complete silence for three whole weeks. Din was dying inside. He barely ate or slept; he missed you, everything about you, even things that seemed stupid. He missed the way your hair smelled, he missed the warmth of your body as he slept next to you, he missed your smile. Din has never been before addicted to something, but he will bet this is what it feels like to go through withdrawal.

He craved you mentally and physically; he had started waking up this past week on the verge of a nut. He always had the same dream to, he would apologize and you would accept. Then he would worship your body like never before, discovering new things about you, what turns you on and how flexible you really are. Each and every time right before he would nut, right when you give him permission to cum inside, he wakes up, every time like clockwork.

*************

It was around lunchtime, and Din sat in the kitchen debating his next move. He needed you. He missed the way you guys used to be as a clan; just him and the kid alone wasn’t the same. He looked up and saw you putting the kid in a high chair and turning to the fridge, taking stuff out to make sandwiches. He laid back, watching you move around the kitchen. You had one of his shirts on with some shorts that you couldn’t see unless you reached up to get something that made your shirt rise.

He watched as you bent over getting something out of the fridge, his dick twitched in his pants. He had been so deprived of you that anything you did got him hard; he grunted as he started to palm himself over his pants.

You had heard Din behind you, you smiled to yourself, you knew he was dying inside, you’d heard it every morning when he was rubbing one out. You honestly had stopped being mad like a week and a half ago. You just wanted to see how long Din could stay away from you; you really wanted to see how long till you had Din Djarin on his knees.

You finished cooking and made some food for the kid and you, but instead of going up to the cockpit like you usually do, you ate in the kitchen. You decided to stand up to eat, leaning over the counter, back facing Din. You moaned with every bite you took, doing a little happy dance.

You had unknowingly confirmed to Din that you were no longer upset and were playing. He had suspected it but wasn’t sure; you would do things like get changed with the door open or take a shower with the door open. He saw those things and thought that you were ready to talk, but when he tried, you walked away. He had assumed that you weren’t ready and wasn’t doing those things on purpose. He knew now, though, that you were playing some type of game, a game he was about to end.

You had finished eating and looked up to find the kid sleep in his chair. You took the kid and put him in his room so he could sleep in peace. You came back to the kitchen to clean up; you felt Din’s eyes on you everywhere you went. You walked over to the crates to put some things from the kitchen up, passing Din as you went. You had felt him before you saw him, his back pressed up against you. You could feel the heat radiating off his clothed body as he pressed up against you. You leaned in for a second before realizing what you were doing. You turned around, trying to leave, but Din stood in your way. You had no other choice but to look up at him and go along with whatever he was trying to do.

“What do you want, Din,” you asked

“I was going to say I was sorry.”

“Well, apology not accepted,” you said quickly, cutting him off before he said another word.

“See cyar’ika keyword, was, “he replied looking at you with his brown eyes

“So what do you want now, Din,” you asked as you walked backward, eventually running out of space as your back hit the wall. You swallowed the lump in your throat and asked him again what he wanted.

He didn’t reply; instead, he reached up and took a finger drawing it from your collar bone to your chest; you shivered as he stared circling your covered nipple before pinching it.

“You,” he said

“What”

“You had asked me what I wanted now, and my answer is you,” he replied.

You were about to question it when he brought his finger up to your lips to quiet you before bringing his hand down and up your shirt to play with your breast. He made a low groan in his throat when he realized that you weren’t wearing your band wrap.

“At first, I was mad that you had put yourself in danger. Then I was a little sad when you started dodging me; it really hurt when you didn’t respond to my apology,” he chuckled. You could hear the smirk in his voice. He lifted up your shirt up over your head. He placed his hands back on your breast and then pinched one of your nipples, making your head fall back as you moaned out loud.

“Then you started playing games with me, messing my head all up. To blame you for playing this game would be wrong of me,” he said as he left you boobs, and his hand traveled up to wrap around your throat. Your body leaned into his touch, your hand reaching out to wrap around his wrist that was at your throat.

His hand squeezed your throat tighter at your silent request as he pushed you back, bringing his head down to bite along your collars before mumbling against your skin, “I realized that it’s not your fault, I should have taught you better, and I will” he said and then quickly pulled away and grabbed a chair to sit down.

“What,” you asked, eyes popping out head. You were confused, but it was too late; Din had already pulled you over his lap. He had pulled down your shorts; he was excited to see that you were wearing a thong, so he left your underwear in place.

“Din, what are you doing?” you questioned as you shifted around on his lap, trying to get a better look at him.

“If you’re going to act like a little brat, then I’m going to treat you like a little brat,” he said as he processed to take his gloves off.

“I will give you an equal amount of slaps on each cheek, and you will count each one out, ok, and safe word is cake, ok, “He asked as he messaged each cheek.

You shook your head as consent, “I need to hear a yes cyar’ika,” he said, giving you a little tap on your right cheek.

You yelped, surprised by the slight sting that followed that slap, and wondered how on Tatooine you were going to endure more, mainly because you and Din have never done something like this before. A slap or two while he hit it from behind, was the closest thing that had ever happened.

“Yes,” you were excited, you’d never seen this side of Din; you might even start messing with Din more often.

Din was smiling; he always loved to try new things with you. He continued to run over each cheek for a few more seconds before he raised his hand and landed the first smack on your right cheek.

“One” You choked out as he rubbed the cheek he just slapped.

It was hard, and it stung, but there was something about it that turned you on.

Din lifted up his hand before smack the left cheek “two,” you tried to suppress your moan. You were kinda embraced at the fact you were getting turned on from this.

When Dins hand landed on your right cheek again for the second time, you moaned loudly as you said the number three. Din smiled at that; he was happy you were enjoying this new thing. Din continued to tear your ass up, each slap hurting more than the last. You were getting wetter with each one to the point where your wetness started to drip down your leg, your underwear no longer keeping it in as it was soaked.

You were preparing to feel a sting on your left cheek for the last slap. Instead, Din pushed you off his lap and set you onto the floor. You laid there confused as he spread your legs open and took your thong off. He got on the side of you and leaned down to kiss you. Your lips captured his in a passionate kiss. You were distracted as Din slipped his tongue into your mouth, so you didn’t see it coming. He had raised his hand and slapped your pussy. You throw your head back as you moan, tears streaming down your face from the intensity of the sudden, overwhelming rush of pleasure.

You shot up before going back down as you raised your hip as he started to rub circles on your clit. He reached down, placing kisses along your neck up and down your neck to your collarbone and back up. He took your ear lobe and brought it into his mouth, pulling on it before letting it go.

These slow circles on your clit were killing you, “Please,” you whimpered as you reached down, placing your hand on top of him, encouraging him to go faster.

He slapped your hand aways, stopping because of you. He rubbed his nose up and down on your ear before asking.

“are you going to be a good girl for me?”

You shook your head up and down, unable to speak as he started playing with your clit again. You didn’t realize that this game you were playing had affected you too till now. You were so desperate; you would do anything he asked just so you could cum on him because of him.

He took his hand away from cunt and brought it up to your lips. You looked Din in the eyes as you took two of his fingers into his mouth and sucked on them. You closed your eyes as you moaned, tasting yourself on his fingers. You weaved your tongue around his fingers before you hollow your cheeks, making a popping sound when he pulled them out.

He ran his finger down your body before shoving two fingers inside of you. You moved your hips down to meet the thrust of his hand. Your legs threaten to close as the pleasure builds, nonsense mumbling falling from your lips.

“More,” you begged

“Faster,” you cried as he gave in to both of your demands.

Suddenly he stopped, and your whines of complaint soon turned into a moan as he pressed his tongue against your clit. He shifted so he could wrap his hands around your thighs as he dove in. It was still the best thing he has ever tasted, he thought to himself. Your back arches as he bites softly on your clit before he sucks on it, and he pushes two fingers into you. You reached down your finger through Din’s hair, causing him to moan into you to moan as you clench around him. Din loves feeling the way your body reacts to him, the way you gripped his fingers, his tongue, his dick.

You were close. You can feel it, and so could Din, so he quickened his pace.

“I’m- I’m. “You tried to speak be couldn’t

“I know,” he said, moving his thumb to circle your clit

You were so close, you could feel it in your stomach. You were about to cum when Din pulled his fingers out and started to lick them clean.

You let a puff of air out as you lose your high. You prop yourself on your elbows as you looked at him, throwing your hands up asking why.

“I just wanted you to see how it feels to work so hard for something only to have it taken from you at the last minute.” He said, standing up but never breaking eye contact with you. You choked on your spit when you realized what he was referring to.

You tried to stand up, but he placed a hand on your shoulder, pushing you back down into your knees. You cocked your head to the side, and he just reached down and took your hand, placing it on top of his pants.

You looked up at him licking your lips before unbuttoning his pants and pulling down his zipper; you pushed his pants down along with his boxers down. You spit into your hand before wrapping your hand around his dick as much as you could. You stroked him before sticking your tongue out and licking the tip, then running your tongue up and down his shaft.

He grabbed you by your hair, yanking you back to look up at him. “Don’t play with me,” he said before taking his hand and wrapping it around your jaw to keep it open as he spits in it.

He let you go, and you stroked him a few times before taking him into your mouth. You moaned around him at the taste of him; this caused Din to lose his balance for a second, making him grab onto a crate to balance himself.

You swirled your tongue around his head before going back and forth, taking more of him in each time, you pulled back off of him, but strings of spit still connecting you to him. You purse your lips as you spit into your hand, reaching down to massage his balls before taking him back into your mouth, making sure to lick the pre-cum as you did.

He reached behind your head to grab your hair as he thrust into your mouth, you gag on his dick, but he keeps going knowing that you will tap against his leg if it gets to be too much. Din grabbed on to your head with both hands as he continued to fuck your face; you could feel him inching down your throat with each thrust. He was about to nut; you could feel it as his balls started to tighten. He griped your hair tighter, signaling for you to look at him. “Where,” he asked, slowing down so you could choose.

He let go of your hair as you pulled back, sticking your tongue out. He smiled down out at you before taping his tip against your tongue a few times as he started to stroke his dick. He quickens his paces and grabs onto your head, pulling it tight, so he won’t miss his target. Din grunted as if he was in pain as he painted your face with white streaks. He rubs his dick smearing the last bit on your tongue. You swallowed the bit in your mouth before feeling around your face the rest and swooping it into your mouth. You licked your lips, smiling up at him when you were all done.

He bent down and swiped his thumb across your cheek, getting the little you had left behind into your mouth. You sucked on it for a second before he pulled it out. He grabbed onto your hand, helping you up as his hands cradled your face, and he pressed his lips to yours; he moaned into your mouth at the taste of him. He reaches down to grab your ass before smacking up light and kneading it as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He pulls back, breaking the kiss as he taps your side, signaling for you to jump up so he could carry you. You jump into his arms, and he takes you into the room you shared and lay you against the cot. You lay there waiting for him as he finishes getting undressed.

He got onto the cot and got between your legs; he stroked himself a few times before lining it up with you. He looked up to meet your eyes looking for consent, and you nodded your head, giving it to him. He slowly pushed into you feeling your walls stretch around him before tightening. Your head falls back as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You grab onto the sheets, bunching them into your hands as you feel yourself being starched to your limit. You take your legs and wrap them around Din’s waist. You cross your ankles as you try to push him into you to make him go faster. He stops suddenly, he’s not even all the way in, and he stops. You’re starting to regret trying to make him go faster, you can’t see much, but you can see him smiling. You know that smile, nothing good is about to come out of that smile.

Din pulls all the way out before slamming back into you completely. You didn’t even make a sound because the air is knocked out of you; your back arches as you try to catch your breath. As soon as you caught your breath, he steals it as he leans down for a kiss capturing your lips roughly.

As he continuously pounds into you ruthfully, he takes one of your legs wrapped around his waist and pushes it to your chest to get a better angle to go deeper. You cry out with every thrust, your voice bouncing off the walls, echoing in the room.

“Mine, This body, theses tits, this tight as pussy, it’s all mine,” he told you as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

“It’s yours; every part of me is yours,” you agreed as you wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him in closers.

You were close, especially after being denied earlier; you need release. Din quicken his paces as he felt you clench tightly around him.

“I-I-I’m close,” you screamed out.

“Cum for me, riduur,” he whispers in your ear.

The name he calls you pushes you over the edge; you clamp down on his dick as you cum. That doesn’t slow him down as he continues for a few strokes riding out you high before pulling out, flipping you onto your stomach, and pushing back into you without warning or rest. You back arch into his thrust as he makes your legs go apart, spreading you wider. He pops onto one knee, driving into you mercilessly as he reaches down to press your face into the mat.

As he’s thrusting into you, you feel one of his fingers circle around your unstretched hole; you guys had been saving that experience, maybe for this moment. “Can I please? I’ll only put a finger in,” he begged you you nodding your head under his hand. He acknowledges the movement as he pulls out, reaching down swooping up some of your wetness before plunging back into you. He teases the hole before slowly pushing his thumb in, causing you to arch your back even more and let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “ f-f-fuck, Din” you stutter out when he got fully in.

Din quickens his pace in you as he sets a steady pace with his thumb. This was new to you, so being stretched like this, you were close to began for more; you wanted to know how it would feel to be pushed to your limit in both holes. You decided against it as you feel Din reach under you to toy with your clit, you chocked on your spit as you tried to catch your breath, all this pleasure was becoming too much for you to handle, you couldn’t even seem to catch your breath.

The pressure builds up in your stomach once again as you feel your peak near. You let sob into the mattress as you feel yourself clench around Din like never before as you cum. Your back arching to the point of pain, which only adds to your pleasure. You feel Din slow down; at first, you are confused about what he’s doing, but then you realized he’s watching how well you take him. He’s looking at how your pussy quivers around him with every stroke. He then speeds up for a second, loving the sound of skin slapping and the gushing sound your pussy makes as your wetness flows out of you staining your sheets.

Din chuckles before pulling you up by your hair, pressing your back to his chest, as he starts to thrust into you. Your body naturally arching into him as he reaches up and cups your right breast, moving his other hand down as he rubs vicious circles on your clit. Your tried body slumping against him as he takes you from behind. He knows you’re tired even if the grip you have on his dick says; otherwise, he stills know. He leans down into your ear, telling you, “you have one more in you, I know do.”

You reach up to take his hand from your breast to wrap it around your throat; you gave his hand an extra squeeze encouraging him. You get that familiar feeling in your stomach as he continues to pound into you with one hand wrapped around your throat and the other one rubbing circles on your clit. You whimper as you try to tell Din you close, but your body is too tired to even conjure up the words. Din understood you though, he was close, not far behind you. He knew that the feeling of you coming around him would do him.

You throw your head back against Din’s shoulders as you felt yourself unravel on him. Din places a hand on the wall as he losing his balance the feeling of your tighten around him as you milk him dry, he continues to pump into you, riding out of yours. Din pulls out, turning you onto your back, laying you down before opening your legs and settling himself between them. He pulled back for a second because you had winced in pain, his dick had rubbed against your extremely sensitive mound; he pulled back, readjusting his self before laying back down. He played comfortably in your arms, his head in the crook of your neck as he rubbed circles in your side while you laid there with your arms wrapped him.

Din lifts his head up and leans down to capture your lips in a sloppy but passionate kiss that held a lot of emotion behind it. You pull away, and he pushes his head into the crook of your neck, and you reach up and run your fingers through his loose curly.

“I’m sorry about everything I said, it was wrong, and I was out of line.” He said but face still in your shoulder

“It’s ok. I should have been more careful when I went out; I didn’t even bring a blaster with me,” you replied as you continued to massage his scalp.

“What did you get from the market.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“I hate surprises. Do you not remember the droid.” He asked

“Hey, at least we know it effective,” you said laughing, but Din wasn’t

“Too soon,” you asked, but you knew it wasn’t as you felt Din smile against your skin. You guys fell asleep just like, you holding him in your arms.

********

The next day went by so smoothly; you guys were back to the daily routine like nothing happened. Din was excited to get back to the meal sharing, he didn’t say it, but he didn’t have to. You guys had eaten breakfast together but had your lunches separate because you each had your own projects to do. Which is what you told Din, but you had actually needed the rest of the day to set up everything for his birthday dinner and make the cake.

You weren’t even sure if Din knew today was his birthday, but even if that’s true, it will make for a better surprise.

Din was coming down soon; he just had to set new coordinates. You guys needed to come out of hyperspace to get gas before continuing on your journey to the next plant where the next bounty is at, which is two days away.

During one of your trips to the market, you found a pretty little black dress; you were so excited to wear it for his birthday. You don’t even remember the last time you were in a dress, and you knew Din had never seen you with one, so it would be like icing on top of the cake.

You heard footsteps above you move, and you were quick to act as you turned around, lit the candles on the cake, and flipped the light switch.

You heard Din slide down the step and walked towards you; your back was still turned to him, and it was dark, but something was illuminating your face; he just didn’t know what. He reached over to the wall next to him and flipped the light switch on. He turns and sees the kid in his high chair next to you.

“cyar’ika,” He asked, stepping closer to you.

You then turn around slowly, not wanting to make the candles go out. As soon as Din sees your face, he gives you a small smile, but it drops when he sees what’s in your hand. You were nervous for a second, thinking that you had crossed a line or something. Then you saw a single tear roll down Din’s face; you had never seen the man cry. You had been with him for close to a year and never have seen this.

You set the cake down and quickly went over to him, embracing him in a hug. He hugged you back so tightly as if he was going to lose you.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner Ridder,” he said, but you only recognized one of the words used.

You reached up and wiped his tears and took his hand and led him over to the cake, Din looked at you before bending down to give you a quick kiss, and he straight up, closing his eyes for a second before bending down and blowing out his candles. You clapped your hands in enjoyment and excitement and reached over to pull in your face for a quick kiss. You heard a slight noise, and you pulled back and turned to see the kid clapping also.

You laughed at that before reaching over and grabbing a knife so Din could cut his cake. Din happily took the knife from you as he cut himself a pretty big piece of cake; he took a fork and a huge bite. Din moaned as he took his first bite, slowly chewing on the chocolate fudge cake with chocolate frosting. His tongue dashes out to lick up any residue that he might have left on his lips.

“I might have to change my mind. This might be the best thing I have ever tasted,” Din said, bringing down the fork for another bite.

You faked gasped, “what does that make me second.”

“You know what? I think I need a refresher, especially with you in that little black dress,” I said, licking his lip, and he wrapped an arm around your waist.

“Later, the kid and I are hungry; it’s time to eat,” you said as you shoved him off of you.

He wrapped his arms around you from behind and kissed you on the neck before saying, “no, seriously, this is the best thing anyone could have given me. I have a question though, is this what you went out to get” he asked, you hummed in response.

“As much as I love my gift, and I really do, please do risk your life over something like this. All I need is you and the kid, and I’m happy, ok.” He said

“Ok”

Cyar’ika - darling

Ridder - wife/partner

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum - I love you.

ner Ridder - my wife/ partner

#mando #mando x you #pedro pascal #star wars #smut #din djarin #din dijarin x reader #pedro pascal x reader #the mandalorian #the mandolorian x reader #din djarin x you #nsft text

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