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imaginedisish · 1 year

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The Only Exception (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey guys!!! Ahhh here is the Din Djarin x reader fic I said I’d post. This has been sitting in my WIPs since late November/early December. This is what I was working on before I got sick. I’m so happy it’s done. I’m pretty pleased with how it turned out, although I may have written something similar to this already. It’s very much inspired by “The Only Exception,” by Paramore. I’m hoping I didn’t use this song as a title yet....Oh well. ENJOY!

Summary: Din has been wildly overprotective of you lately, but maybe it’s because there’s something lying deep below the surface that’s been threatening to bubble over...

Warnings: SMUT!!!!! 18+ Please!!! Oral (f!receiving), fingering, PIV sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), cursing, canon typical violence, Jedi!reader, Razor Crest still exists (and it’s def bigger in my head than it is in the show), praise kink, friends to lovers, angsty but fluffy and smutty dw, I only proofread like 2 times so it may be bad (it’s 3:16am...so...we die like men!), AFAB reader, uhhh I think that’s it...

Word Count: 3,078

“I swear to the Maker, if you don’t get back on the Crest now, I’m gonna-,”

Din is cut off by the sound of your lightsaber clashing through the plastoid armor of the stormtrooper to your left. You swing your saber around, showing off more than you need to. You throw it down the alleyway, feeling through the force as it cuts through another stormtrooper before finding its way back to your hand.

“You’re gonna what?” You say, tilting your head to the side. You point your saber to the stormtroopers scattered around the alleyway. “I just saved you.” You close your saber and cross your arms cockily.

Din shakes his head, his gaze refusing to meet yours. “And where’s the kid? You just left him on the Crest?” You roll your eyes, turning your back towards him as you remove your cloak from your shoulders. There, in perfect condition, is Grogu, secure in a little carrier on your back.

“You really think I’d be that dumb?” Your words have a callous edge to them. Din had been far moodier than usual over the past few days, and with that came a strange overprotectiveness that you hadn’t seen before. It was starting to feel as if he thought you were going to mess up, that you couldn’t take care of yourself. “You think I’d put the kid’s life at stake?”

“That’s not what I meant.” The anger in his voice has all but melted away. You’re shocked by how defeated he sounds now.

You inhale deeply, taking a moment to calm yourself down. “So what did you mean, Din?”

“We don’t have time for this now.” He’s curt and almost a bit cold, his modulated voice echoing off the walls of the alleyway. “We need to get back to the ship.”

You hate the way he’s brushing you off, ignoring you, pushing you to the side. You didn’t need this; you didn’t need to put up with his shit. Not anymore. “What is going on with you?” The words come out louder, more aggressive than you meant them to.

Din takes a single stride towards you, his broad figure practically shoving you against the wall in the process. “We are not doing this here.” The feeling of him being so close to you clouds your mind. You can’t form a coherent thought, never mind a sentence. You want to say something, to stand up for yourself, but you can’t. “Now cut the shit so we can get back to the ship.” There’s that anger again, that finality in his voice.

In the distance you can hear stormtroopers chatting, whispering your name, mumbling on about Grogu, warning each other about the Mandalorian. Din was right. There was no time to hash this out here. You nod, finally caving in. Din takes a step away from you, immediately grasping your wrist in his hand before making a break for the Crest, just on the other end of the alleyway.

Somehow you make it without being seen. Din lets go of your hand, motioning for you to get on the ship. You make a b-line for the back and carefully remove Grogu from his carrier, placing him in his crib. You stand frozen in place in front of it, watching his eyes flutter open and closed as he slowly drifts off to sleep.

You don’t want to move. You rather watch the child you had come to care so deeply for sleep peacefully than deal with a massively enraged Din. The oncoming fight would most definitely wake Grogu, so maybe it was best for you to hide in the little corner that you had come to call Grogu’s bedroom, completely unnoticed. But obviously, that’s not an option. You begrudgingly step towards the end of the hull and decide to keep your hands busy by organizing the tiny stock of food that lined a makeshift shelf along the far wall.

You can hear Din’s heavy steps on the other side of the ship, presumably heading up towards the cockpit. After a few seconds and many annoyed grunts from Din, the ship is lifted into the air and away from danger.

You try your best to bring yourself to get angry at him, to yell some explicative across the hull of the ship and spit a curse in his helmet-covered face. You wanted the consequences, for him to storm over and scream back. But you couldn’t – because things weren’t normally like this. Din had always been kind, caring, protective even.

He'd leave the cockpit to grab a blanket from his cot when you fell asleep in the co-pilot’s chair. He’d come back and gently, yet silently, tuck you in with it. It was the only blanket he had. Sometimes you’d wake up in his bed, having been carried into it at some point during the night. He’d be awake, taking care of the child, flying the Crest, making sure nothing and no green baby woke you up.

You’d be lying if you said his doting behavior didn’t draw you to him, that it didn’t make you crave him. Every soft touch on your shoulder, every time you pretended to be asleep just to feel his arms wrap around you as he brought you to his cot. You’d let your stares linger a little too long from time to time, pushing past your reflection in his armor, searching for some sort of sign that maybe he feels the same.

You wanted him to come up behind you, rest his hands on your hips, squeezing softly at the exposed inch of skin where your top and your pants just can’t seem to meet, and whisper in your ear in that husky, modulated voice that he’s sorry, that he’ll make up to you by-

“Never, ever, do anything like that again.” You practically jump out of your skin at the sound of his voice. You quickly turn around, not realizing how close Din had gotten to you. His chest is practically flush against yours, the proximity causing you to stumble back against the shelf, threatening to bring it down with you.

Din immediately snakes an arm around your waist, keeping you from falling against the cold metal floors below. Your arms instinctively reach up around his neck to stabilize yourself. You’re glued to him now, and you don’t particularly want to let go. You swallow harshly, intimidated by the way the beskar clad man seems to tower over you, by the way you can smell him, by the way his forehead practically touches yours.

You take a deep breath, furrowing your brows and doing your best to collect your thoughts despite the fog that the moment seemed to create in your brain. “Do what? Save your ass?” You spit, instantly regretting the harshness of your words, even if he deserves them.

“You weren’t supposed to leave the ship.” He’s stern, his voice somehow punishing. “You were supposed to stay here with the kid.”

You shake your head, feeling far too much like a child caught playing in the front seat of their parent’s speeder. “You needed my help! You would’ve died out there without me! And I can handle myself,” You yell, trying to ignore how you could feel the rise and fall of his chest against yours. “If this is about risking the kid’s life, I promise you I wasn’t. I would never put him-,”

He cuts you off, “I know you wouldn’t, that’s not what this is about.”

What? You think to yourself, confused beyond belief. If this wasn’t about the child, then what could this possibly be about? “So then what’s the problem?” You ask, more aware of the way that Din is holding you against him now than you were before.

You can hear Din inhale deeply through the modulator. “You.” A shudder rolls down your spine. “You could’ve gotten yourself killed.” There’s still an edge in his voice, but he’s calmer now, almost pained, as if considering your death in some dark corner of his mind.

“Sorry that my death would be such an inconvenience for you,” You say sardonically. “It’ll be hard trying to replace me with some other force-wielding wizard that’ll be willing to babysit for you, since clearly that’s all I am.” You wanted the words to sting him, to hurt him, and maybe they did, but it felt like a punch in the gut to simply think them. You wanted to grab the words from where they still hung in the air and shove them back into your mouth, to swallow them so that they could burn in the acid of your stomach.

Din tilts his head down, crushed, defeated. Your heart winces. Fuck. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it.” His stare finds yours again, and you quickly look down at his shoulder, too embarrassed to have him look you in your eyes.

You shake your head. “But Din, that’s the problem,” You say, somehow finding the courage to meet his gaze. “I don’t know what you mean. How am I supposed to know what you mean if you won’t kriffing tell-,”

“Fucking hell, I don’t want to lose you!”

Your eyes widen. “What?”

Din looks around the hull, as if the words he was searching for were hiding, wrapped somewhere around its silver walls. “I can’t lose you. And before you ask, no, it’s not because you train the kid or whatever the hell you think it is.” You can feel the pain in his voice, guilt quickly filling your gut. “It’s just…” He trails off, silence hanging heavy in the air.

“Well…what is it?” You mumble, struggling to force down the lump in your throat. You wish you could see his face, to get a sense of his expression, an inkling as to what he was really feeling.

“You,” He says, as if those three letters held some secret, omniscient being or meaning. To him, they did. It was you. You were the thing that kept him up at night, the thing that made him want to show every facet of his being for the first time in his life. “You’re reckless and careless and sometimes you drive me absolutely insane.”

You scoff. “Wow, what a glowing review of my services!”

Din shakes his head. “You don’t fucking get it. You’re so much more than that, because even though you drive me crazy,” He pauses; the modulator picks up his breath as it catches in his throat, “I know I’d never be able to spend an entire lifetime without you in it.”

You’re speechless. An entire lifetime? “Din I-,”

“Close your eyes.”

“What? You just said all that and you want me to close my-,”

“Just close your eyes. You trust me, don’t you?”

Of course I trust you, smart-ass, You think to yourself. So, you do what he says, shutting your eyes firmly. Then there’s a hiss, and then something clunks loudly against the floor. And then…

It’s warm, and soft, and smooth, and all those other perfect words someone would use to describe the perfect kiss. He has a mustache under all that metal, and now you know, because it tickles ever so gently just above your upper lip. His hands squeeze your hips just a bit tighter, pulling you further into his chest.

His lips press deeper into yours, hungrier. You keep your eyes closed tightly, your hands sliding up and into his hair, combing gently. He moans into your mouth at the touch as he guides you away from the shelf and towards his cot.

“D-Din,” You stutter in between gasps.

“What is it, mesh’la?” He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead.

You can feel the heat pooling at the bottom of your stomach, but there’s something stopping you, something telling you that there’s no possible way this could ever be real, that it wasn’t a set-up, that it wasn’t a dream. “Do you really want this?”

“More than anything.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and you silently wish to yourself that you could see it. “Do you?”

You nod, repeating his words, “More than anything.”

His lips find yours again, his knee nudging in between your thighs as he pushes you down onto his cot. He’s on top of you now, his hands on either side of your body. “Wanted you for so long…” He whispers in your ear. “Wanted you this whole time.” Fuck, he was going to kill you.

Din presses sloppy kisses into the crook of your neck, leading up to your jaw. His hands stretch under the hemline of your shirt, his fingertips gliding across your stomach and towards the edge of your bra. You shudder as he reaches underneath, slowly inching towards your chest.

Something was changing within him, and that something was you. You made him want to throw his Creed away, to ignore all he had been taught his entire life. How could you ever possibly be something he shouldn’t have? He needed you.

More than anything. And you needed him.

“Please,” You beg. “I need you Din, please.”

And just like that, something within him finally switched.

“Open your eyes, cyare,” He’s so quiet you almost miss it. His fingers dip underneath your bra, rolling a nipple between his thumb and forefinger teasingly before doing the same to the other. “’Want you to look at me when I make you come.”

Panic rises to your chest. “W-what, are you sure? What about the Creed, what about-,”

“It doesn’t matter, not if it means I can’t have you.”

You wait a moment, giving him time to change his mind, but he doesn’t. You let your eyes flutter open, his curly hair and brown eyes flooding your vision. And Maker, there’s that smile, the smile you’d only heard through laughs and sarcastic, snide quips. You swear your heart skips a beat, maybe even two. He was perfect. Of course he was fucking perfect.

“You’re beautiful,” You whisper, your hands finding their way to his cheeks, his neck, your fingertips carefully running over his lips. His forehead rests down on yours, his eyes closing softly, reveling in the intimacy.

Din lifts himself off you and makes his way down your body, settling in between your legs. His fingers hook the waistline of your pants, tugging them down and throwing them somewhere in the hull. He feels your core through your soaked panties.

“So fucking wet for me, pretty girl,” He coos, practically ripping your panties as he pulls them down your legs. “Need to taste you.”

“F-fuck, Din,” You breathe sharply as his tongue laps at your clit, your hips lifting off the mattress. Din presses an arm across your hips, keeping you down against the cot, his free hand spreading your slick, teasing your entrance.

“’Tastes so good,” He rasps, his voice vibrating deliciously against your core. “Doing so good for me sweet girl.”

His mouth sucks harshly at your clit, taking the small bundle of nerves into his mouth, lapping at you like he was starving. You wanted more, needed more.

“N-need you, Din,” You whine, your hips fighting against the arm that held you down. He pushes you down further into the mattress, his mouth pressing even deeper onto your core.

“Not done with you yet,” He grunts, pushing two fingers into your entrance, pumping in and out, fast and hard. You could feel yourself growing closer with each thrust.

You moan his name like it’s a prayer, and in this moment it is. “Din, please, I, just…” But you can’t finish your sentence. It’s all too much, his fingers, his tongue, his voice, him. He was everywhere and everything all at once. And yet you needed more.

“Use your words, sweet girl,” He says patiently, nonchalantly.

“I want…” Your words fail again. “I…need you to f-fuck me, please.”

But he doesn’t stop, he keeps going. “I said I wasn’t done with you yet.” You could feel your walls fluttering around his fingers, teetering just on the edge.

“I’m so close,” You pant in between ragged breaths.

And then, abruptly, he pulls away, leaving you cold and empty. Before you can even think to sit up or reach out for him, he was back, his hips resting against yours, his pants and armor now somewhere scattered to the side. You could feel his cock throbbing against your inner thighs. He lines himself up with your entrance, teasing you.

“Din,” You whimper. “Plea-,”

He buries himself inside you, cutting you off, stretching you out. “So fucking tight,” He praises, pulling all the way out before thrusting back into you, filling you up again. “So soft, so perfect.” His fingers find your clit, circling the nerves roughly.

His forehead rests on your own as his left-hand searches for your right one. His fingers intertwine with yours just above your head, keeping you from drowning, cementing you there with him. It all feels so good, each pump, each circle at your clit. You can feel your walls clenching around him.

“Taking me so well,” He soothes, rocking into you. “Such a good girl.” It was all too much, his words, his cock.

“I-I’m gonna-,” You choke, white heat flooding your vision. You know Din isn’t far behind, his hips stuttering against yours.

“Come for me, sweet girl, that’s it,” Din moans, sending you over the edge. You feel yourself shattering underneath him, falling apart into a million pieces, only to be put back together again. His name slips off your tongue as he comes inside you.

His hips roll slowly against yours, gently rocking into you a few more times before pulling out.

He shifts a bit so that you can comfortably lay on his chest. After all that, there’s only one thing you can think about.

“You wouldn’t be able to live without me?”

You look up at Din. His smirk stretches into a smile. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I wouldn’t, no.” He says it so matter-of-factly, so simply, as if it was common knowledge. “I need you. I always have.”

“I need you too.” He was the only person you had ever needed, the only exception. You didn’t need to tell him. He knew. Always has, always will.

You are the only exception

And I'm on my way to believing

Oh, and I'm on my way to believing

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beskarandblasters · 10 months

Note

breeding kink with din? I know that man would be feral and on his knees my brain goes brr when I think about it

Carry My Warriors

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Summary: After getting married and settling into your new home on Nevarro, Din discovers he has a new kink.

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: reader is able/bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), established relationship, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex, breeding kink, creampie, some nipple play, slight lactation kink if you squint, use of Mando’a words (cyar’ika = sweetheart, mesh’la = beautiful, riduur = spouse), no use of y/n

You’re just settling into your new home with Din on Nevarro. The past few days have been a blur. The Mandalorians reclaimed Mandalore and you were absolutely sure that’s where Din wanted to settle down with you and Grogu. But shortly after your wedding ceremony Din told you that the three of you were leaving for Nevarro.

“But… why? You just reclaimed Mandalore… Isn’t this where you wanted to live? you asked, as he prepared the Razor Crest for takeoff.

“At one point yes but now that we’re a family… I think we should live elsewhere… Karga’s got a place for us there.”

“Really?” you asked, in disbelief that you’re going to have an actual place to call home with Din.

“Yes, cyar’ika,” he said, turning around and grabbing your hands, “A place for us to be a real family.”

You nodded and felt the happy tears spring in your eyes. He squeezed your hands and went back to preparing the ship. You scooped Grogu into your arms and leaned back in your chair, watching Mandalore get smaller underneath you as you left. You left the treacherous atmosphere and entered space, before Din made the jump to lightspeed. You closed your eyes and tried to imagine your new life together on Nevarro. Your stoic tin man could be a real softie sometimes.

That was several days ago. You’ve been spending your first few days back on Nevarro settling into your new home; a small house on the outskirts of town. Complete with a pond full of frogs in the front for Grogu. You’re in yours and Din’s bedroom (still a strange concept to you; a real bedroom for the two of you) decorating when you feel Din’s presence behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and your neck flush against his chest.

See, Din has a small problem that he hasn’t told you about yet… Becoming your riduur and this new, domestic life on Nevarro unlocked something within him. And realized he wants nothing more than you on your back, legs spread open for him with his cock buried in your cunt, pumping you full of his cum.

You’ll be doing dishes in the kitchen, hips swaying as you hum yourself. And Din will watch you and think about how he could grab your hips, bend you over the sink and take you right there. Or you’ll be on the couch, in your pajamas, reading something on your holo-pad. He’ll notice the way your soft thighs are pressed against each other in your pajama shorts.

But the worst is when you hop in the refresher together and he’ll see the way the water beads up on your tits and the way you lather them up with soap. His mind goes elsewhere and he thinks about them full of milk and how sore you’ll be and how you’ll need help relieving the tension and oh Maker, he’s got it bad.

These are the kinds of things he thinks about while he strokes his cock when he’s alone in the refresher or next to you in bed after you’ve fallen asleep. He’s hesitant to tell you about his new fantasy because he’s not sure how you’ll react. You’ve never talked in depth about the possibility of having kids together. But now that you have a stable place to live it’s all he can think about; living a quiet life with you and watching you grow round with his child. It’s all he wants. And you find out about it by accident.

You’re on your back, thighs spread apart and legs hooked over Din’s shoulders. His helmet is off and you’re looking deep into each other’s eyes. He tears them away for a second to gaze down at your tits which are bouncing deliciously with each of his thrusts and imagines them full of milk. And he’s gone, bursting his load into you in complete bliss.

“Kriff, Din,” you gasp.

He’s pulled out of his daze. “Hmm, what is it, cyar’ika?”

“You came inside me! I don’t have an implant, remember?”

“Oh… sorry,” he says, sheepishly.

“It’s alright. I’m sure it’ll be fine,” you sigh.

He kisses you and whispers another apology against your lips. You can’t stay mad at him for too long.

After your little afternoon delight, you decide to get dinner started. Grogu’s down for a nap. You’re standing at the kitchen counter cutting vegetables, feeling Din’s release slowly seep out of you. And to be honest… you don’t hate the feeling.

Din went into town to grab a few more things for dinner. He spent the rest of the afternoon replaying that moment in his head; the moment he came inside you for the first time. And now he doesn’t think he could go without that feeling. He arrives home, sees you at the kitchen counter and his eyes immediately gravitate towards your waist. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around you. You stop cutting vegetables and lean into his touch.

“I have to tell you something,” he says softly.

“What is it?” you ask, turning to face him and gazing up into his visor.

“...I want a baby with you, cyar’ika.”

Your mouth falls open. This is so sudden. And you’ve never talked about kids of your own before.

“Oh, Din. I don’t… I don’t know,” you say, truly confused.

“Please, cyar’ika,” Din begs, falling to his knees. He rests the bottom of his helmet against your thigh, visor peering up at you with what you can imagine are the most pleading eyes under the helmet. One of his hands caresses your thigh and you sigh.

“You’ll look so pretty carrying my warriors.”

“Is this really what you want?”

“More than anything.”

“Okay,” you nod.

He couldn’t drag you to the bedroom fast enough. He pulls you from the kitchen and into your bedroom. He pushes you down on the bed gently and starts pulling off your pants.

“What about dinner?” you ask.

“We can eat later,” he says hastily, removing his armor piece by piece.

You giggle and sit up to take off your shirt. You hear the hiss of the modulator and look over at him, never getting enough of the sight of his face. He looks over at you with the hungriest expression on his face while he slips off his flight suit. You lay down on your back and Din hovers over you, bringing his hand to the inside of your thigh, trailing it up to your cunt. You spread your legs for him and let him stroke your entrance gently.

“I’m gonna take good care of you, cyar’ika,” he purrs.

You moan in response as brings his head to your cunt, licking a slow stripe up it. Your hands find his hair and tug on it a little, begging for more. He swirls his tongue around your clit in a rhythmic motion. He hums into you, sending vibrations through your core. He hooks his arms around your thighs and brings you closer against his face. You moan at the new and more intense sensation. You feel your core tightening in anticipation of a big release. With one last lap of his tongue you’re coming against his face, soaking the lower half of it completely. Pleasure washes over you in erratic waves as you ride out your high. Din laps up every last drop of your fluids before commenting on how good you taste.

“You taste so good, mesh’la,” he murmurs before bringing his face by yours. He kisses you as he looks gathers your wetness in his hand, spreading it on his cock. He gives it a few strokes before aligning himself with your entrance. He enters you slowly and sighs at the sensation of your warm, wet cunt enveloping his cock. You hold your breath as he stretches your walls. He buries himself at the hilt, the head of his cock rubbing against your cervix. You exhale and relax as you expand to his size, feeling completely full. He places your legs on his shoulders and leans forward, folding you in half into a mating press. You moan at the deeper angle of his cock and feel tears spring in your eyes.

“It’s so big, Din,” you whine.

“Yeah, you like that, mesh’la? Want me to fuck a baby into you just like this?”

You moan in response, too cock drunk to form complete sentences. He chuckles and picks up the pace, driving his length into you with more force. He notices your tits bounce with each slam of his hips and reaches to suck on one of them, releasing your nipple with a loud pop. He moves to your other nipple and does the same thing; lick and suck at it until it becomes a stiff peak in his mouth. He pulls his head back and he gazes down at you with loving eyes, bringing one hand to the side your face and caressing your cheek. You feel yourself arrive at the brink of orgasm, core tightening as the pleasure stirs in your stomach. You come undone around him, moaning loudly as your orgasm overtakes you. Your cunt clenches him like a vice bringing him to the edge, too. He fucks you through your release which prolongs it further but he feels his balls tighten and he knows he’s about to cum.

“Cum in me, Din. Fill me up,” you pant.

Those words pull his orgasm from him in an instant, coating your insides with his cum. The tip of his cock is tucked into your cervix, pulsating against it. He comes with a loud groan and closes his eyes in bliss before pumping into you with a few more strokes until he goes soft. He stays inside you, keeping you plugged with his cum. He kisses you and whispers, “Thank you, cyar’ika. I’ll take such good care of you when you’re carrying my warrior.”

You kiss him back and whisper, “I know you will, Din.”

You stay there like that for a while with him still inside you until you hear Grogu waking up from his nap and fussing in his room. He pulls out of you reluctantly and starts to get dressed. You go to get dressed, too, wanting to resume dinner but he stops you.

“Rest, riduur. I’ll take care of everything.”

“Okay,” you sigh.

Sure he wants you to rest… but you’re also certain that he wants you to lay down to ensure all of his cum stays inside you. You get the feeling that you’re not going to be leaving this bed for a long time, not until he’s absolutely sure his seed has taken and you’re carrying his baby. You’re not complaining though.

End note: This request has been sitting in my inbox for two months now, I am the worst 🫣

Want to be notified when I post a new fic? Follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications!

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Note

Heya so I’ve been watching the new Mandalorian and loving Din and such but I was gonna ask if I can make a request. What about Reader getting jealous of Din and Bo’s relationship growing as friends (because fyi I see Bo liking woman idk? My opinion hahahah) anyways and also how Bo is becoming like more motherly to Grogu and Reader feels like Din can replace her so she decides to just move out of the way and then maybe Din finds out why she is being like this and it ends with comforting loving and reassuring smut? Idk up to you. I love love love your stories. You are my favorite writer

AN | Ohh but no, this was a good one. Enjoy🥰

Warnings | None

Pairing | Din x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 3.1k

Masterlist | Din, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You tried to hide the scowl on your face as you looked over at the two Mandalorians speaking to each other, clearly in deep conversation. Apparently you weren’t doing a great job because you felt a gentle tugging on the bottom of your pants. You looked down to find Grogu looking up at you with big eyes filled with concern and his ears downturned. He trilled softly and you let out a small sigh.

You crouched down so you were closer to his level and lightly scratched the top of his head, “what’s wrong, my small love?”

He let out a small huff of frustration, letting you know that he knew you knew exactly what this was about. Your expression shifted to sheepishly as you shrugged lightly, “it’s nothing, I promise. I’m just being silly.”

Grogu reached out a small hand out and tried to touch your face as best as he could. He really was the sweetest thing being you had ever met and he definitely helped you to forget what you had been annoyed about in the first place.

That was until several long shadows fell over you and you looked up to find Din and Bo-Katan standing over the two of you. You pulled back from Grogu and almost instantly jumped up, shrinking away from the imposing warriors.

“Is everything alright?” Bo always managed to be so calm and calculating that it served to unnerve you. You were sure that it wasn’t anything intentional, just how she was, but it still sent a shiver down your spine. There was something incredibly intimidating about her.

“Y-yes,” you nodded lightly, swallowing back all the reasons things were definitely not alright. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at Din; you could feel his gaze intently trained on you, “of course.”

“Are you s-”

“We should head into town,” Bo cut Din off, whether or not intentionally you weren’t sure, and jerked her head in the direction of the nearby city center, “and settle down for the night. We might be here for a few days. Come on, kid.”

Bo gently scooped Grogu into his arms, holding him in a gentle manner that allowed him to see everything that was going on. He seemed happy to be held and you couldn't help the fact that that made your heart ache slightly.

He really loved her and she was clearly fond of him. You took your disappointment and compartmentalized it, shoving it to the very back of your mind. Everything was fine and there was nothing to worry about. Right? Right.

The fact that Din followed you closely and kept trying to say something to you wasn't lost on you. You did your best to try and ignore the feeling of nervous butterflies in your stomach. You knew he wouldn’t let things go that easily, so the best you could do was avoid him.

But Din Djarin had other ideas.

That night, once you were all settled into your rooms at the city center’s hotel, you heard a knock at your door. The three of you had all separate rooms, taking advantage of the opportunity to get some space. You closed your eyes for a moment before sighing softly and walking to the door; you opened it after a few beats of hesitation.

You found Din on the other side, alone for once, and a definite air to him. You could practically feel the expression under the helmet; luckily for you, you’d been privy to getting a glimpse of his face so you could picture it accurately.

“Din,” you said quietly, acknowledging his presence with a small nod, “what are you doing here?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” and oh. Did his voice have to drop that low and soft? It made you want to run and jump into his arms, “if you don’t mind.”

“Of course not,” you stepped to the side and let him, slowly closing the door behind you, leaning against it as you watched him go to the window and look out. It was silent between the two of you for a few moments, and you could feel the tension radiating off him, “what did you need?”

You heard him sigh, and the familiar sound tugged up the corner of your mouth into a small smile. He turned back to you, his hands settling on his hips; he was trying to search for the right words and felt like he was falling short, “you’re off…lately.”

“I’m off?” you echoed, “what do you mean? Wait - are you getting rid of me-”

“No,” a firm, resolute answer. He swallowed thickly, “you. You’ve been acting differently lately. Something is bothering you.”

Of course he was right on the money. But you didn’t want me to know that - at least not yet. You tried to plaster on the most natural smile you could, but you were sure it was more of a grimace than anything, “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Din. Everything’s fine - we’ve just been busy and I-I’m just tired.”

“I know there’s more that you’re not telling me,” he didn’t say it accusingly - if anything his voice was soft. He was trying to coax you out of the shell you’ve been putting yourself in, “I…I want you to know that you can tell me anything.”

“I know,” and you did. Your heart constricted as he sat down next to you, his gloved hand brushing against yours, “and if there was anything to tell - I would tell you. Promise.”

Okay, so you were a liar. A dirty, kriffin’ liar.

“But you’re not right now,” again, it wasn’t even a question. It was a statement. You hesitated for a moment before shrugging lightly, “whatever it is, you don’t have to go through it alone.”

“Din,” you angled your body ever so slightly so you were facing him, “if there was anything to tell, I would tell you. I swear it.”

He paused for a long moment and you were seriously wondering what he was about to say. It could have been anything; he was a hard read sometimes. But then he stood up and in front of you, putting his hand under your chin and turning your face up to his. The Mandalorian remained quiet and stoic before brushing his knuckles across your cheek. The tenderness of the action was enough to make your eyes burn before they fluttered closed.

After a few moments he gave you a simple nod before heading out of your room and quietly closing the door behind him.

You felt a sense of conflicted emotion wash over you; from how gentle and tender he was, you’d almost think he had some sort of deep rooted feelings for you as well. Then your mind instantly went to Bo and Din, how the two of them were together, and how Grogu loved them both. It made sense, of course, that the Mandalorians would find comfort in each other and form a deep, close bond. It also made sense that it broke your lovesick little heart.

Your shoulders slumped as you stared out the window, a heavy sigh escaping your lips. You could have just told him then and there. It would have been so easy to do so…and then, if nothing else, everything would be out in the open. Instead you’d chosen the easy way out and lied to him.

At least things couldn’t get any worse, right?

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wrong.

By the time you were up and dressed the following morning, you found that Din and Bo-Katan were already out and about with Grogu in tow. You grew upset when you realized that they didn’t bother to check in with you before leaving the hotel. You watched across the square for a little bit, watching the three of them interacting happily. Your heart practically fell into your chest when you realized just how much of a little family they appeared to be.

Along with the hurt came the jealousy and that was a feeling you absolutely hated. There was no reason for it - but your heart felt differently. A part of you, and you hated even admitting this to yourself, hated how well they got along. It would have been easier if they disliked each other or didn’t have just chemistry or…anything.

But Din had never been yours and would never be yours; it was a fact that you were going to have to accept and live with.

You turned on your heel and started to walk back, deciding to wait for them to come back and find you.Childish? Maybe. But right now you didn’t care.

It was halfway back on your trek that you had a sudden realization.

You didn’t have to stay with Din. You weren’t under any sort of obligation to stay with him. In the beginning you’d just sort of fallen into work with him. And you hadn’t really ever hashed out any sort of deal. Which meant…you could just leave whenever.

It was just an idea…but when you got back to your room, it became more and more tempting.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

By the end of the day, you’d made a plan. Perhaps more of a semblance of a plan but it was something.

You found Din and Grogu walking through some of the market stalls, the small one’s eyes lighting up happily with each little thing that he saw. The idea of being away from both of them was heartbreaking; you loved them both terribly.

“Hey,” you caught up to Din and started walking next to him, happy that for once Bo-Katan seemed to be absent. You felt him looking down at you as Grogu chirped happily, “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Oh?” you just knew that he was raising an eyebrow at you but then his voice dropped to something gentle, “tell me.”

“I’ve been thinking,” you were wringing your hands nervously, aware of every little tell that you had, “a-about everything. And I think I’ve decided that I, ugh, I umm…I’m going to stay here.”

“What?!” he stopped so suddenly that you almost tripped over him. You shrugged sheepishly before looking away, “what are you talking about?”

“Just what I said,” you played it off, “I’m going to stay here for a while.”

“But we’re leaving in a few days-”

“You. You are leaving in a few days,” you replied softly, “you, Grogu, and…Bo-Katan. I’ll be staying here.”

“I don’t know how long we’d even be gone before I can come back for-”

“You’re not coming back for me, Din,” you whispered, stealing a little glance at him, “I don’t think you’re understanding…I am staying behind and you are going on. W-without me.”

“What do you mean?” now he just sounded concerned and confused and that broke your heart a little bit, “why would you not come?”

"Because I'm not…" you choked back the emotion that was welling up in your throat, "I'm not going with anymore period. I think it's time that we go our separate ways."

"Separate ways," he echoed as you nodded lightly, "why? What happened? I thought that-"

"You don't need me," you stopped and turned around so you were fully facing him, "you don't need me for anything you have left to do. You and Bo will be just fine together. You're Mandalorians after all. I'm just…me."

"That's not true," he insisted meekly as you stared at your feet, "we do need you."

"For what?" you blinked back the tears as you caught the sad little look on Grogu's face, "you don't need my help with him anymore. I'm not…necessary."

"None of what you just said-"

"It's not, I'm not - this isn't something that is up for debate," and yeah, it crushed your heart go say that to him, "I've gotta go my own way now."

You didn't - and couldn't - let him get another word in or you knew you'd be right back to where you had been. You didn't want to leave them and Din could see that, he knew that and he didn't want you to go. That had to count for something, right?

Even the slight bit of hope his words gave your heart wasn't enough to get you to turn around. Your decision was made.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Din wasn't as convinced that you were set in your way. He wasn't going to just let you get away that easily. You should have realized that by now.

As you were packing your stuff to leave and figure out a more permanent situation, Din knocked once before letting him. He didn't even give you the opportunity to welcome him in - there wasn't time.

"Don't go."

Your hands dropped the shirt you were holding as you looked at him in shock. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to figure out where to begin to respond to that, "p-pardon?"

"Don't go," he repeated, taking a few steps closer to you, "stay. With me and Grogu."

"And Bo."

"No," he shook his head. He was a smart man after all and he'd managed to put the pieces together. And come to terms with his own feelings, "this isn't about her."

"Well it involves her," you sighed, scrubbing a hand over your tired face, "you and her and Grogu and your little save the Mandalorians and Mandalore mission. It doesn't have anything to do with me."

"Cyar'ika-"

"Besides," you turned your back to him and crossed your arms over your chest, "you seem to be doing just fine with her."

"She's a fellow Mandalorian," he came over to where you could almost feel him behind you, "we are stronger together. That is all. She is not…I do not have any feelings for her besides any that are extremely platonic."

"You might want to tell her that."

"She's well aware," he promised and you felt the tension in your shoulders lessen at the feeling of his hand on your shoulder, "it is not me she has an eye on. She knows that you are…mine."

"What?" You turned around and looked at him with wide eyes and a confused expression. He was watching you intently, "Din?"

"You are mine," he repeated as your expression shifted to one of wonder, "as I am yours."

"You…" you vaguely gestured between your bodies, mind reeling as you tried to process what he actually meant, "me?"

"Yes," there was a bit of amusement coloring his voice; he was calm while you were panicking, "I thought you knew."

"No," you managed to choke out, "I-I didn't. I just thought you…thought of me as a partner. Business partner."

"Not just that," he reached over and gently pushed your hair behind your ears, "far from that."

"What about Grogu? He clearly loves her-"

"You are jealous," your entire body burned at his accusation and you swallowed thickly. Why did he have to be so damn perceptive? You couldn't even find it within yourself to lie and deny it.

"Yes," you looked into the black T of his visor, meeting his eyes behind the helmet, "I am."

"There is no reason to be jealous," he promised, "there is only you for me. And for Grogu. Once our business is concluded, it will just be us."

"Promise?" That is everything you had been craving and wanting so desperately, "Din?"

"I promise," he answered softly and you could feel it in your bones that he wasn't lying, "it won't be much longer."

"Okay."

"You'll stay?" He pulled off his clothes and tossed them to the side before gently taking your face in his hands, brushing his thumb along your cheek. You couldn't help but preen into his touch.

"Yes," you whispered softly, "I'll stay."

He made a small sound in the back of his throat before pulling back and walking towards the door. You were confused for a few moments until he switched the lights off, bathing the room in darkness except for the city lights that flowed in through the curtains.

"Do you trust me?" He was looking right at you and you were looking right back. But there was no hesitation in your response - you both already knew the answer.

"Yes," you promised, "I trust you."

He made a small sound before lifting his hands and slowly removing his helmet. Despite the fact that you had seen his face before, the gesture still spoke volumes. You watched as he rid himself of his gloves, followed by his armor and outer clothing.

When he was done, he made his way back over to you, leaving just enough of a gap between your bodies.

You couldn't see the details of his face but studied his handsome silhouette. After a moment he reached up and took your face in his hands. You turned your face and leaned into his touch, sighing wistfully.

"You mean more to me than I could ever put into words," he whispered so quietly that you almost didn't hear, "I'm sorry you ever had to doubt that."

"It's okay," you tried to ignore the feeling of butterflies exploding in your tummy as you looked at him with a small smile.

"Once this is all over…" he paused for a moment, as he trailed his fingers along your jaw, "I promise things will be different."

"And they don't have to be different," you insisted, "I just….I just want you."

"You have me," it was a firm, resolute statement, "all of me."

He leaned his face down towards yours, his nose gently nudging yours. You leaned up ever so slightly and met his lips, letting him gently kiss. Finally. After so much time, so much dreaming and wishing and wanting, you finally got to kiss Din Djarin. You’d always wondered what it would be like and now you knew - it was just like magic and tasted even sweeter.

His movements were tentative at first, gentle and testing the waters. When you responded so positively and eagerly to him, he relaxed and grew more confident. You rested your hands on his forearms before gently pulling back. A small, wistful sound escaped your lips as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“You have me too, Din,” you promised in return and you could see his shoulders relax even in the darkness.

“You’ll stay?”

“Of course,” you stole a quick kiss from him, “I thought that would have been clear now.”

“It was,” he nodded, smiling against your lips, “but I just wanted to be positive.”

“Let me show you how positive I am,” you whispered, feeling bold and electric, “if you’d like me to.”

“Yes,” he agreed, both of you laughing softly, “yes.”

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x fem!reader #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #star wars

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devils-dares · 1 year

Text

Head to Bed

summary: nodding off on the razor crest

pairing: din djarin x gn!reader

wordcount: 438

warnings: none

a/n: my first din djarin fic! this was inevitable with @galaxysgal convincing me to watch the mandalorian and putting up with all of my shitty star wars questions.

comments and reblogs appreciated!

-----

Hyperspace was calming. It was quiet and calm and even flying through space without any pirates or looters was calm. You’d been sitting in the Razor Crest next to Din, who was currently flying the craft. You were beginning to nod off, catching yourself before your chin dropped too low.

Din was watching as you tried your best to fight the slumber, smiling under the mask as you snapped awake again. He waited a few more minutes until you actually fell asleep, leaning on the side wall, to wake you.

You felt a hand on your thigh, eyes opening to find the beskar helmet staring back at you.

“Head to bed,” he says, “I can fly for a while, take the kid.”

“I don’t want you to be here up alone, we’re about to go through open space.”

“Just for a little bit, I need to stop for fuel, and then we’ll be right back on our path.”

“Din-”

“I will be fine,” he presses, “look, the kid’s snoring in your arms, head to bed.” You look down to find him drooling on your shirt, ears drooped down in his slumber.

“Okay,” you give in, truly too tired to argue, “but you have to promise to wake me if you need some rest, or if you meet anyone giving you any issues.” He laughs.

“I know how scary you can get.”

“I’m serious.”

“By the time I’ll need rest I’ll be able to put it on autopilot.” He reasons. Your hands rests on his shoulder for a few seconds before you head down the ladder and climb into Mando’s bed, placing the kid on his hammock.

You can vaguely remember the ship landing on some fuel site, and Mando’s armored footsteps clunking across the ship floor. The takeoff wakes you again, but you settle quickly, falling asleep only seconds after waking.

A little while later, the panel to the bed slides opens. Squinting, you make out Mando’s silhouette, shedding piece after piece of beskar.

“Mando?”

“Shh.” The bed sinks on one side.

“D’ya need me to fly for a while?” You ask, voice rough and groggy from sleep.

“No, just stay facing that way.” You hear a few clicks, and then he presses himself up against your body in the tight space. You can feel his breath on your neck, realizing that he’d rid himself of his helmet. His hand snakes under your shirt, calloused fingers running over the much softer skin. His chest is pressed flush against your back, and you can feel his breathing even out slowly.

“Night, Mando.” You say, but he’s already fallen asleep.

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ourautumn86 · 1 year

Note

comin in hot with a twt link! (Dont know if i did wrong or not im new to these ^^) Idk if you write for din djarin or not but i can just imagine him doing this as he takes out his frustrations on your pussy cause the bounty went sideways. but this could also be seen as joel if a smuggling deal went wrong. Your pick! <3 much love!!

https://twitter.com/OrgasmGifs/status/1619378756648574978?t=XxqL71XHdg891aZOifJB5g&s=19

oh lord, this is pure filth. 😭😮‍💨

din djarin x fem reader!

minors don’t interact, +18 content!

cw; rough sex, choking, manhandling, dirty talking, degradation, praising, piv sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockwarming, dom! din x sub! reader, nipple playing, name calling (whore, slut…), …

“fuck.” your eyes shot open when you heard something crashing on the salon, along with the voice of who you recognized was din, your boyfriend.

your eyes still felt heavy with sleep, but your mind was slowly coming alive as you got up from bed.

“din?” you called out for him, he was giving you his back, armor still on except for his helmet—which he had thrown across the room—. he looked exhausted, but mostly of all exasperated, furious.

he didn’t seem to have heard you, and you stepped closer. “din, what’s-“ but before you knew it, there was a hand pinning your wrists to the wall behind your back and another surrounding your neck. from your lips fell a gasp that got caught in between his as he furiously kissed you. he groaned, pushing you harder against the wall, all air leaving your lungs. he was kissing you as if you were the last thing he could hold onto.

“din, what’s going-” you moaned when his clothed thigh pushed in between your naked ones, roughly pressing against your panties and your cunt. your hands messed with his hair and tugged when he freed your wrists and pulled your shirt upwards ‘till your bare chest was exposed for him to lick and suck onto.

“shut the fuck up.” he ordered, quieting you, letting you know what you needed to do, and that was to close your mouth and take what he gave you. and if what he needed to gave you was his anger, his frustration, and stress. you will take it.

you whimpered when his lips sucked on your nipple, the hand that now stood free grabbing at your hip to grind you on his thigh, making you sigh and whine, your panties growing wetter and wetter at his roughness.

“din…” you begged, and he groaned on your chest, sucking bruises that now beautifully decorated your perfect tits.

in a swift motion he was manhandling you with his strong arms, pulling you back into your room and pinned you onto the bed under his weight. it was rough, the way he kissed you, the way he pulled off your shirt, the way his hands were digging on your skin. but it hurt so good…

“fuck.” he muttered against your nipples when a high pitched and pornographic moan left your lips as his fingers sneaked inside your panties and met your wet core, his fingertips dripping on you.

your hips jolted against his touch when he teased you, his fingers dipping on your slick and merely brushing your clit, making your whole body shake in need. need for him.

“din please…” you begged, and he smirked.

“what a good girl…” he muttered against your neck as his fingertips pressed against your clit, making sparks fill your vision. “such good manners…” you whimpered, the praise only making you eager for him, needier. “being so good to me.” you screamed when he suddenly plunged two of his thick fingers inside of you, immediately finding your g spot. you couldn’t help but arch your bag, your eyes shutting close as he started to fuck them in and out of you. “listen to her…” he smirked, his dick painful hard in between his thighs at the sounds your cunt was making for him, sticky and perfectly ready for him to fuck into. “so ready for me…” you moaned, your cheeks burning due to the sounds that your arousal surrounding his fingers made.

“din…” you sighed his name, your hips rocking onto his fingers, needing him deeper. needing him to go harder, treat you badly, love you in that harsh way that made your mind reel… you were whimpering as he split you open with his fingers, brushing your g spot with every curl of his digits. it was needy, and harsh, it almost hurt, but you couldn’t possibly need him anymore than this. your whole body was like a magnet begging for his touch, needing him to touch you.

his patience seemed to be running out as he saw you fall apart, his cock pressed against your thigh as he grasped at your tits, tugging at the nipples just like he knew you liked.

the air in your lungs disappeared when in a quick flip he had down on your stomach, his rough hand landing a harsh spank to your ass, making you jolt and hiss.

in between the dizziness and hunger that enveloped you, you heard him push down his pants and underwear, too far gone to even care about the fact that you were beautifully naked under him and he was still on his goddamn armor, completely dressed.

you whined as one of his hands pulled you upwards so your ass would be sticking out for him, your glistening pussy begging for attention, your slick coating your mound and your thighs. you were soaking wet, drowning in desire.

he didn’t even tease you, didn’t even wait for you to get adjusted to his size before he was fucking you open with his huge cock. his tip brushed your cervix with every harsh thrust and you were withering and dissolving under his touch.

“fuck.” he groaned, his whole body shaking at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him and sucking him in every time he’d try and pull out just to thrust back in. it was as if your body was begging for him to stay inside, to fuck you full of him, for him to not go. “so good…” his pace spiked up, and your hands were holding onto your sheets for dear life, your body shaking with every snap of his hips against your ass. his balls met your cunt with every one of them, getting soaked on you. they felt so heavy… so full and ready to empty themselves in you… “you’re always so fucking good to me, pussy so ready to be filled up, huh?” he teased, and you whimpered as your walls tightened around him, making him groan. “such a fucking slut for dick. look at you…, already so close to cumming all over my cock…”

“din!” you cried out when his dick reached that deep spot inside of you that no one had ever been able to reach before, making your sight go blank.

“you gonna cum, honey? gonna cum for me?” his breathing was ragged, his pace needy. the sight in front of him was like heaven; you drooling all over your sheets, moans getting cut off by his thrusts and your cunt dripping only for him. you nodded, begging for him to let you cum, he almost bursted at your cries. “go ahead baby, soak my cock.” and you did, with moans and whimpers falling off your lips, your mind going black at the strength of your orgasm, which made your whole body shake and your walls to get impossibly tighter around him.

“shit.” he groaned, fucking you though it, feeling your cum coat the curls on the base of his cock, the wetness and warmth of it.

“din!!” you whimpered when his pace only sped up, the overstimulation becoming too much. you tried and get away from him, crawl your way on the bed, but he only tugged you closer, pinning you down onto the duvet ‘till only your hips were detached from it, spreading you open for him to fuck into. his right hand harshly gripped your neck from the back of your head, making sure you wouldn’t move, that you wouldn’t get away from him. you were sure there would be bruises on his fingertips decorating your waist tomorrow morning, but you wouldn’t care. “din, please…”

you screamed as he started to piston inside of you, unable to quiet your sobbing and whimpers. “don’t fucking move.” he groaned, feeling his own release start to build. “take it. be the good whore you are and fucking take it.” he gritted in between his teeth.

your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, your jaw slack and spit dribbling to the sheets. your mind felt hazy, your body heavy as he fucked you towards your second orgasm, which was building faster and harder than the first.

“that’s it. good girl.” he smirked when your own body started to thrust backwards, begging for more. “good. fucking. girl.” his thrust cut every one of his words.

“din, gonna cum, gonna-, fuck!” your eyes were rimmed by tears, your legs shaking and about to let you fall onto the mattress. thank god he was holding you up, manhandling you just like he would a goddamn toy for him to fuck.

“that’s it baby. cum for me. good girl.” you were falling apart as he hit your sweet spot one, two, three more time before your orgasm came crashing down like a tidal wave, drowning you under water. “fuck, so fucking tight.” he groaned, his cock twitching at how your walls were tightening. “gonna cum baby. gonna fill this pretty and wet cunt of yours.” you moaned. “yeah? you want it, baby? want my cum?” you whimpered, nodding, babbling however you could multiples ‘yes’ that slurred their way out of your lips. “fuck. take it baby, fucking take it.” he groaned, and his cock twitched as he emptied himself inside of you, painting your pussy on cum and filling you up so good you could only wither and moan at the feeling.

you fell with him to the mattress, your bodies sticky and spent. he had for sure fucked his frustrations in you.

he quickly undressed, holding you with your back against his wide chest, his strong arms surrounding your waist. you whimpered when his soft cock pushed his cum all inside once again when he seated himself in your cunt. “i know baby, i know…” he cooed, leaving soft pecks and kisses in the expanse of your neck and shoulders. “gotta keep it all warm and inside for you baby.” he muttered against your skin, and soon enough your eyes were closing once again, now completely spent due to his rough fucking.

a/n; oh lord, hope y’all liked it, love you! 😭😮‍💨

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chaotic-iguana · 9 months

Note

HI OMG UR FICS ARE INTOXICATING WTH!!!

Can I please req a Din Djarin where he and the reader are travelling together and reader is bubbly/sunshine personality and then she admits her feelings and Din doesn’t reciprocate at first.. then her personality changes and she’s all sad and he can’t stand it!!!! Cause he does love her and he can’t bare to see her that way!!!

Super angst and fluff please 😭😭😭😭 THANK H IF U DECIDE TO WRITE THIS 🤍🤍

HELLO THANK YOU SO MUCH!! ofc im writing anything u request lysm ur the best plus the prompt is so adorable ahufsdkfjhfs. just to try sumth new, im gonna switch it up and do this one from din’s pov. lmk what you think!!

Enough

Summary: Din rejects reader when she confesses her feelings to him even though he feels the same, only to regret it later.

Pairing: Grumpy! Din x Sunshine! Reader (no use of y/n)

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: none, just a lot of angst and fluff

masterlist

——————————————————————————————————

Din Djarin was not a good man. He was aware of this, which is why he was careful not to get to close. Not to taint things with his darkness; the destruction that seemed to shadow him wherever he went. He learned to turn his head away when you sung softly to the child, to clench his fists and keep himself from reaching for you when you giggled at your own terrible (adorable) jokes, to steel himself against your pleas to purchase every single fuzzy fabric you saw, no matter the form. Socks, blankets, shirts, trousers, even a kriffing hat, which Din stopped and let you buy just to stop the stares he was getting from people at the way you were practically jumping in your spot, pointing at the shop’s display.

But despite his best wishes, Din was not a strong man, either. Not as strong as he needed to be, to resist you. You, with a beaming smile that never failed to make him blush under his helmet; with tender, caring hands that looked so soft that Din wanted to rip his beskar off so you could brush them against him, just once. Your hair, which smelled so sweet that Din could catch traces of it through the beskar. Your eyes, almost siren-like when you blinked up at him while rambling away about something. The way you scrunched your nose with a snort when you couldn’t hold in a laugh. The fact that you had never, ever asked for his name - or an explanation of his helmet, for that matter - even when he knew you hadn’t heard of Mandalorians before. The lilting notes of laughter in your voice before you turned to him with a sly smile, offering him with a witty quip he would have killed others for voicing, before throwing back your head and howling. No, Din was nowhere near strong enough to stand a single damn chance against you.

He could hear you humming to yourself and the baby while you heated some broth, stopping to lean down and pepper kisses all over Grogu’s face as he cooed happily. Walking into the cockpit, he grunted in acknowledgement of your “Hey, Mando! Sleep well?” before turning to the child and nudging his helmet against his wrinkly forehead. When he turned around to see a gentle smile gracing your face in acknowledgement of the scene in front of you, he straightened up and cocked his helmet as if daring you to comment.

He was itching for a fight: something, anything to stop the sweet torture of your presence which seemed to breathe life into your surroundings, no matter where you stood. You’d find a way to brighten a graveyard, Cyar’ika. Your smile tightened slightly before you presented him with a bowl of his own, brushing past him to take the child in your arms and leave the cockpit. Every muscle in his body was tense, his mind begging him to let you stay, to apologise for his hostility. To hear you prattle on about something menial while he ate, to revel in the domesticity of being with you. Not like that, of course. You were simply too good for him. Too perfect; too pristine. Your eyes too bright and your heart too soft for him to be worthy of your love. And so Din slipped off his helmet, ducked his head, and ate in silence.

He had noticed that lately, you still spoke to him, but you’d leave with the child more often. He could hear conspiratorial whispers sometimes, the child nodding and babbling his own input as if the two of you were hiding something. You weren’t awkward around him, per se, just less readily giving of your laughter, your jokes, your mindless chatter. All Din knew was that his mind would not rest unless he confronted you, and soon. A restless yearning for your erratic, unnecessarily bright gestures gave way to the anxiety spooling in his gut. Had you finally seen him for what he is?

So later that day, after the supply run when you had fed and put Grogu to sleep, he approached you in the cockpit. He shuffled uneasily behind you, shifting his weight from side to side as he waited for you to break the silence. But uncharacteristically, you just continued to stare into hyperspace without a word. When Din cleared his throat, you turned your head his way. But your gaze was flitting around; your hands fiddling nervously in your lap. Why were you apprehensive?

“Are you…” Din swallowed, unsure of how to phrase his question, “okay?” Are we okay?You looked up at him then, your eyes wide with anxiety, before looking down at your lap again. Could you be…scared? Of me?

But then you took a deep breath; the nerves fading from your face and giving way to a look of complete resignation, your shoulders slumping with the weight of inevitability. Your gaze met his visor, and he could see that your fingers were lightly curled into fists.

“I don’t really know how to do this, Mando.” Another deep breath. The colour has faded from your face and suddenly you seemed so small, folded in on yourself, that Din had never had to wrestle harder with his own self-control to stop himself from pulling you into his chest and holding you; comforting you, until you’re back to your bouncy self. “You know that I like most people, right?” He nods; you do seem to like and be liked by most people he’s come across, even the ones he would deem unworthy to so much as look at you.

“I’ve always really enjoyed meeting new people, and making friends. Life is easier when you’ve got people, right?” You’re rambling again, but instead of the usual enthusiasm lacing your tone, crippling worry dripped from your every word. Are you leaving him?

“I think-I know that I like you more than I like everyone else. Anyone else. I like everything about you more than I’ve ever liked about anyone else and I just…” you trailed off, gulping. “It feels like you and Grogu are my family, already. And I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you might want more than this, like I do. I-fuck it-I’m in love with you, Mando.” And then you’re shying away from him again, biting your lip as you search his visor for a reaction.

You’re in love with him? This has to be a joke. Din waited for the catch, standing unmovingly in front of you as if waiting for one of your signature punchlines to come tumbling out of your mouth. When it doesn’t, he just gaped at you, his mind overwhelmed with too many thoughts to even say anything. A part of him had never been happier than this moment right here; never loved you more than right now. But the other, more dominant part of him was practically reprimanding him. And what now, idiot? Profess your undying love to her and subject her to a life as the wife of a bounty hunter? No comfortable homes, no proper vacations or even neighbors. A life on the run. With you, dikuit - a man who has never been loved enough to understand how to reciprocate. There is nothing you can give her. There is nothing you can do.

Din bristled under your gaze, suppressing a wince at the words that came out of his mouth next. “You mean to tell me that you are in love with a man you have never even see the face of? A man who hasn’t even told you his name? Stop lying to yourself. There is no ‘family’. You are the child’s caretaker, and nothing more. It would be best for you not to forget that in the future.” He wanted to slap a hand to his mouth, to bite his tongue - anything, anything not to see the way you wilted in front of him as his words registered. You slumped further in the chair, shoulders curving inwards as you brought your knees to your chest to curl up into a protective position, as if he was hurting you. Frustrated by the fact that he could neither pull you in his arms to comfort you, nor find it in himself to continue spewing bullshit he didn’t mean, Din just turned and walked away. He pretended not to hear the muffled crying echoing through the ship that night.

——————————————————————————————————

That had been three weeks ago. He’d gone for a hunt right after, returning within the week. What he found back at the ship made a part of him wish he wouldn’t have returned at all. Your eyes sat bloodshot on hollow cheeks, sunken in your face as dark blotches formed under them. You were quiet, even with the concerned child - all the singing, humming goneas if it had never been. Grogu kept gesturing to you when he father looked his way, as if asking what was wrong. Din knew what was wrong. He just didn’t know how to fix it. He couldn’t find it in himself to leave you alone again, so he’d been mumbling excuses to you each morning as to why he was still on the ship. You’d never answer, just offering him the barest dip of your chin. Din hadn’t just rejected you-he’d been cruel about it. And he hadn’t slept since the night he’d spat those pathetic words at you in an effort of self-preservation, either. The moment kept replaying in his head over and over: your initial nervousness, the words you’d said to him, and your wince at the ones he’d reciprocated with.

But like he’d admitted: Din Djarin was not a strong man. For you; only for you, he would crumble. To see your usual cheeriness replaced by this emptiness nearly made his knees buckle. You’d stopped eating, too - quietly slipping your food to Grogu, whose concern was overridden by his constant hunger. He’d done this: out of fear of hurting you, he’d reduced you to a mere shadow of what you used to be by doing it anyways. Out of his fear of fucking it up, he’d gone and done that exact thing without even trying to make it work. It was unacceptable to him, to go without hearing your laugh or your jokes or your humming. Not to see you giggling with Grogu. Fix it then, dikuit. So he would.

Din walked into the cockpit, picked Grogu up from his place on the floor, and whispered a soft apology to him before shutting him in his cot. Grogu, ever-understanding, had just pressed a claw to his helmet and nodded as if wishing him luck. Thanks kid, I’m going to need it. He’d seen your confusion when he had taken Grogu out of the cockpit, but youremained mute. Walking back towards you, Din could feel his chest hurting at the way your hands shook and your eyes glossed over when he got closer.

“I’m sorry.” His words have no effect; a tilt of your head is the only proof you offer to show that you heard him. Ironic, isn’t it, to be at the receiving end of what I do to others all the time? “For how harsh I was. I didn’t mean it.” Your mouth opens this time, but he raises a hand to stop you. If he doesn’t get this out now, he never will. “I was the one lying to myself, not you. I fell in love with you a long, long time ago, ner’karta. But I was scared-still am-because I have nothing good to give you. Not like what you deserve. My creed alone means that I can’t show you my face until we get married. My job doesn’t allow me stability. I have never been…loved. I do not know how to love you properly. All I know is that it doesn’t feel like a good morning until you say it, that I feel myself flushing under my beskar when you smile at me, that I have to bite my lip to stop a chuckle when you tell me your jokes. All I know is that since you’ve come into my life and made it brighter, it seems I can’t face the darkness alone again. These past two weeks have been hell, cyar’ika. I cannot bear to see you like this. Please forgive me. I will drop you off anywhere you wish to go.”

And then your face is twisting and you’re sobbing - large, shuddering sobs that alarm Din when they begin. He reaches a tentative hand out towards you slowly, giving you more than enough opportunity to slap it away. When you don’t, he steps closer and pulls you into his chest. As I should have done then. You shake with the force of your hiccups, and Din reaches to rip off his gloves before wrapping his arms around you, a warm hand coming to cradle your head against him. All he can say is a feverish repetition of “I’m sorry, I’m sorrymy love, please forgive me”.

By the time your tears subside, you can hear sniffs coming from under the helmet too; his modulated voice cracking and giving away his own crying. “Y-you don’t get to-to decide for me. You can’t decide whether or not you can offer enough or whether you can love me properly or not. Just love me, Mando. All you have to do is try.” Your voice is so fragile, so tentative as you speak into his chest that Din’s heart aches at the pain he can hear in it. You continue, “I don’t need stability from you, nor do I need your name or face. To have your heart is enough.” And though you can’t see it, Din has to shut his eyes and brace himself against the weight of his own tears this time. His chest warming, butterflies in his stomach as he tucks you impossible closer.

“Like I said, cyar’ika, you’ve had it for a very long time.” And then you’re smiling again, as Din’s knees threaten to buckle from the force of emotion that wells up at the sight. You’ve pulled back from his chest, but stay close enough to graze his helmet with your nose.

“Is that so, Mando? Do I want to know how long?” You whisper back, somehow looking straight into his eyes despite the visor.

“Din.” At your frown, he clarifies hesitantly. “My name, cyar’ika. Din Djarin.” You beam brighter, repeating it to yourself. “Wait - cyar’ika? You started calling me that last year, when you were annoyed I bought that fuzzy green hat with frog ear and Grogu tried to eat it on the way home. I thought it was like a swear word, or something -not that I think you would swear at me, you just seemed very annoyed, you know?”

A chuckle slips past his modulator, before he gives in completely. “Close your eyes, please.” When you comply, he rips his helmet off and cups your jaw with his hand, thumb stroking your cheek. Leaning in, he presses his mouth to yours gently, leaning back to look at you. “Beloved, cyare. It means beloved.” Before he can say anything else, your hands tangle in his hair, and suddenly you’re pulling him back into another kiss. And another. And another.

You two remain so wrapped up in each other that you actually forget to leave the cockpit until Grogu stomps in, having apparently broken out of his cot, and begins babbling at you both angrily, before seeing the smile on your face after so long and hurtling towards you at full speed, nearly tripping on his robes in the process before you catch him in your arms.

It was true, though. You didn’t need Din to go out of his way to give you anything. This was enough.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore

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psychedelic-ink · 8 months

Text

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐒.

DAY EIGHT OF HAUNTED HOEDOWN

prompt: cult au + “do you like it when i bleed for you?”

pairing: cult leader!din djarin x f!reader

genre: explicit smut, minors dni

summary: din initiates you into the cult.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: dubcon (power imbalance), manipulation, innocence kink, corruption kink, blood/blood kink, blowjob, soft dom!din kinda

Your eyes follow the man in armor in front of you.

It’s just you and him, no one else. No one to hear you scream or beg while you are initiated. He removes the plates of his arms one by one, the majority of his armor staying along with his helmet. There’s a fire burning behind him. The flickering orange and yellow bathes his armor in light and you stare, mesmerized by how shadows deepen all around his armor.

“You can’t leave after this,” he says, voice modulated. “You will be one of us.”

“Can I see your face then?” you ask innocently, batting his eyes at him. He tilts his head, observing your soft smile and clutched thighs. You want to see him. Be with him. He had been protecting you for years, looking out for you, teaching you the way and how to live a happy life. He’d told you once, how he cared for you, but couldn’t give you a name or show you his face until you were properly initiated. That was the creed.

He stills for a moment. You see the tension building in his muscles and doubt begins to swirl in your chest. You want to please him and the thought of saying something that might upset him makes your stomach churn.

“Yes,” he answers finally, every word pronounced carefully. “I don’t show my face to anyone though, I want you to remember that and know how special you are to me. Understood?”

You nod and he shakes his head, “Use your words mesh’la. Use my name, it’s Din.”

“Yes, Din,” you answer. Your cheeks warm up. His name hits your tongue just right, as if your mouth is made to repeat his name over and over again.

Satisfied, he nods and pulls out a sharp dagger from his waist. The gleam catches your eye and your pulse quickens. You have no idea how the initiation works, your excitement courses through your veins, and pounds in your ears. His visor reflects your wide-eyed expression.

“On your knees,” he says.

You quickly obey, ignoring how the stone scrapes your skin. He displays his forearm, bringing the sharp edge of the dagger to his skin. Din cuts himself slowly, blood trickling instantly from the long wound. Your heart jumps, eyes going wide. You almost feel a cut of your own tingling over your forearm and it pains you to see him bleeding.

But also, you know this is not something he does for everyone.

Your pupils dilate, mouth flooding with saliva with the prospect of pressing your lips against the crimson blood.

“Repeat after me,” he says, drawing you away from your disrespectful thoughts. You nod. The blood ebbs like spiderwebs across his skin, coiling around his bare wrist and dripping from his fingers to the cold stone ground.

He begins, voice soft and words slow, “I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors. . .”

“I swear on my name and the names of the ancestors. . .” you repeat dutifully.

“that I shall walk the way of the mand’alore. . .”

“and the words of the creed shall be forever forged in my heart.”

“and the words of the creed shall be forever forged in my heart. . .”

“This is the way.”

He curls two bloody fingers under your chin and tilts your head further up. You feel the warmth of his essence on your skin, the scent of iron filling your nostrils. “Do you like it when I bleed for you?”

“Yes,” you answer without thought, feeling the blood moving down your neck, following the path between your breasts. He slightly bends his knees, leaning over you as he tugs your bottom lip down with his thumb. You exhale when he smears the tender flesh with his blood, marking you, and you taste him.

He sighs, “Maker, I can’t wait to ruin you.”

Din pulls away and you lick the blood from your lips. Oddly enough he tastes sweet to you, even though you know it’s impossible. Your eyes drop to the front of his pants where he unzips himself, your mouth goes dry at the size of his hard cock. He’s not too long, but the thickness of it is enough for you to shudder with pleasure.

“Have you ever sucked cock before?” he asks, coming closer and tracing your lips with his bloody fingers. Insticeticly, you part your lips and he slips them inside, he groans as you swirl your tongue, cleaning him off.

“No,” you answer. “It never seemed that appealing to me.”

“How about now?”

The drop of his voice, the rasp beneath the words, all of it makes your mind go completely blank. Silent. You swallow around his fingers. He withdraws his fingers, “It’s very tempting,” you breathe out, tongue swiping over your bottom lip.

Din ignores your answer, “Open your mouth. Wide,” he groans and when you do, he pushes himself inch by inch into your mouth. Tears build in your eyes and he cradles the side of your face with one hand, keeping you still. He doesn’t stop until you’re choking around him, a moan echoing from underneath the helmet.

Tears fall one by one as he begins to thrust his hips, burying his cock down your throat with every move. You brace yourself by placing your palm on his thighs. The muscles bulge underneath your hands. Arousal pools between your legs. He’s using you just like you wanted, owning you and making you yours.

“That’s it. You’re doing so well,” his head tilts back, pushing you down until your nose is buried within the dark curls. You can barely breathe. The mixture of precome and blood heavy on your tongue. You feel him pulse as your throat convulses around him, then he pulls back, a growl reaching your ears. “My sweet girl, always so eager to please.”

Din pulls out slowly and you can feel the slickness on your tongue. His hand slides from your chin up the side of your head. His rough thumb traces your lower lip. You can feel his gaze like a brand on your skin. he takes a deep breath and exhales before taking himself into his hand. The head of his cock is an angry shade of red, precome glistening beautifully at the slit.

Before he can command it, you open your mouth and stick out your tongue. He fists himself before spilling his hot cum all over your lips and chin, dripping down your face. His moans and whimpers are beautiful, a sight only you’re allowed to see.

There’s so much of it, his cock continuously twitches and throbs in his hand. He ruins you, just like he promised. Staining you with his seed. Your insides clench when you imagine Din coming inside instead of on your face.

When he’s finished, he tucks himself back into his pants and reaches for his helmet.

“As promised,” he says, voice hoarse, scratching your ears just right.

You finally see the real face of the man in armor.

And he’s beautiful.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin au #din djarin smut #cult leader!din djarin #hauntedhoedown #pedro pascal character fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalotian x fem!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader

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spacecowboyhotch · 5 months

Text

Ambrosial

summary: he knows your scent— he knows your heart and now he knows your people.

pairing: din djarin x fem!black!reader

contents: longing, pining, fluff, cultural differences

wc: 2.5k

an: this has been a longggggg time coming but this one's for you @cptn-nash and for all of the black women who feel left out of fandom. there’s always space for you.

pedro characters masterlist

The crest always smells like citrus with a hint of cinnamon these days. If Din closes his eyes he can imagine himself standing in an orchard with you by his side.

The warm, fresh smell is all thanks to you— to your hair, your people, and your culture. All things that you hold close to your heart and in turn, Din tries to respect. But, it is not lost on you that he cannot understand the importance of hair to you and your culture completely, not when his is hidden inside of a helmet day in and day out.

What he does know is how much he enjoys yours— watching the way your curls move when you walk, how they pile into the crown when you tie them up, how a bit of them spill out of the silk scarf you wear at night when Grogu refuses to sleep without you and the two of you take over his bed. He has to tear himself away from the sight of you—dark skin lit up in the moonlight and his foundling in his arms— slinking off to your bunk. But there is a reward when he gets there— the sweet, concentrated scent of you rests on the fabric of your pillow.

In the deepest recesses of his mind, there’s a place where there’s just the three of you. Din holds to his creed, unwaveringly so, but here there is no worry of exile. No worry that you or Grogu will be taken away from him on one of your adventures through the galaxy. There is just you, holding his son, curls blowing in some light evening breeze. There is just him, wrapping his arms around the both of you, his nose pressed into the crown of your head as he is able to succumb freely to your scent. He doesn’t let himself go there often, not when he is so unsure that he will ever have it.

The two of you are charted for a bounty when you ask him to make a detour that is quite out of the way— you need something for your hair. And while he’s more than happy to make sure your needs are met, he has to ask.

He glances back at you, his voice soft and not unkind as he asks, “Could you not use my things?”

If you didn’t share the fresher with him you doubt he even had things. He does, though they aren’t as intricate as yours. There are worse things than smelling like the Mandalorian, yes but proper hair care is sacred to you and your people.

You smile at him, shaking your head, “No, it doesn’t work like that. There are specifics, rituals, ingredients.”

“And it is…strict? Necessary?” You can practically hear the confusion in his voice, his lack of understanding.

“As necessary as this,” You murmur, leaning forward and raising a hand to cup the cheek of his helmet.

He blushes within the space of his helmet, unable to bite away the grin that spreads across his face. You and Din teeter on the edge of more— never explicitly naming or acknowledging any of the affection that passes between you, but undoubtedly knowing that the other is devoted. There’s something particularly sweet about his dedication without words. There is no doubt in your mind that he cares for you, but with this lifestyle, with his creed, neither of you make any move to change your relationship.

This is enough. It has to be.

When the silence sits thick between you for a beat too long, you start to ramble, “Like I told you before, hair is integral to our culture, it helps build every facet of relationships in my village. It sounds silly, but it's the basis of community. We would not be nearly as devoted to each other without hair at the center.”

He hums, delicately taking one of your curls in between his fingers. He studies it closely through the dark t of his visor, noticing the intricate way that it spirals. You let out a soft, shaky breath– feeling his eyes on you is something you’ve become used to, but the effect it has on you never dissipates.

“I could show you,” You murmur shyly, feeling the fascination in his gaze.

“Show me?” He repeats cautiously.

“Show you how my momma taught me to take care of it,” You suggest. After a moment of hesitation, you add, “Show you my home as you’ve shown me yours.”

The two of you have gone to Mandalore—just once, to show Grogu what should be his home and collect water from the sacred waters. You’ve always tried not to put too much stock in Din letting you tag along— where else were you meant to go if you’re his travel partner?

His helmet tilts, shock in his sandy voice, “You would take me to your home?”

You gaze with the black void of his visor breaks for a moment before you look up at him through your lashes, “Of course I would, so that you could see where I come from, how I’ve become who I am. You let me see yours. Would you like to see?”

He nods, finally releasing the curl that he was still holding between his fingers.

“Chart the course and then I will show you why I take so long in the fresher,” You say, backing out of the cockpit.

He meets you there just as you finish turning everything the correct way, labels up. You keep it all in a bin that you take to and from the fresher, not wanting to take up too much space.

You can’t see his shock but you can hear it in voice, in the way he tilts his helmet as he says, “This is…a lot.”

You laugh softly, before explaining, pointing at various bottles as you do, “There are different products for different times of year, holidays, special occasions.”

“Special occasions?”

“For one’s birthday or wedding. Even for a funeral. All milestones in life, from beginning to end.”

“And you must have all of it at all times?”

“You are to be prepared for all of the days of your and your neighbor’s life. If we were to meet someone from home during our travel and they were in need of something, then its my duty to help. It is our custom. Our way so to speak.”

Din hums in understanding. He understands living life a certain way more than anyone you’ve ever known. He starts to understand the importance— but this is just the beginning. He wants to know everything about your people, to fuse the two of your cultures into something loving and uniquely your own.

—

It takes the night to make it to your home, allowing you to arrive in the morning. You’d sent a communication to your mother as soon as Din had agreed, and she had excitedly responded, eager to see you after such a long stint away. Eager to meet Din, though you’d given her no indication that things had progressed romantically between the two of you.

When you wake in the morning, you find Din a little nervous to have the conversation that made you toss and turn most of the night. You know that he’s quite fond of Grogu, that he loves him with all his heart. You feel the same way, happy to take care of the little creature in any way that you can. It’s a bit confusing, raising a child with Din despite not knowing explicitly what you are. But, you love Grogu. Though you don’t let yourself think about it much, you love Din. You’d do whatever you could to make things easier for the two of them.

But what would your mother think about such an arrangement?

Din tilts his head at you in concern when you inhale a nervous breath, fingers twisting in your lap. He reaches for your hands, steadying them. “What’s wrong? Have you changed your mind?”

You gaze down at his gloved hand that covers nearly both of yours before you shake your head, assuring him quickly, “No, no, I haven’t changed my mind.”

“Then what is it?” He asks gently.

“I know that Grogu is yours, and I’m not ashamed or embarrassed. But, I think it best he stays on the ship while we visit my mother. I don’t want her to assume anything that would make you uncomfortable.”

He’s quiet for a moment, but you can practically hear the gears turning in his head. “You were nervous to ask me this.”

You snort, “He’s your son, Din, of course I was nervous.”

“I understand,” He says, squeezing your hand in reassurance. “The next visit, we can introduce him to your mother.”

The next visit. He plans to make this habitual?

“You’re sure?”

“It’s your home. I’m sure if you’re sure,” He declares with a shrug. As if the decision is that easy for him.

“Thank you, Din.”

He simply squeezes your hand again before clearing his throat, saying that he needs to make sure Grogu is taken care of before you two land.

—

When the ship door opens, you and Din are met with a plethora of people, headed up by your mother. Din can’t help but notice how much of her is in you— the same rich color of your skin, the curls though they are greying. Some of your beauty comes from her, and some of it is uniquely you.

She gathers you into her arms immediately, hugging you tightly. She guides your curls back so that her lips are at the shell of your ear, “We’ve missed you. I’ve missed you.”

“I know, mama. I’ve missed you too,” You whisper back, pulling back to give you a watery smile.

She turns her curious gaze to Din, looking him up and down. “This is who you’ve been traveling with. A Mandalorian who will keep you safe.”

Din nods his head, and you about melt with embarrassment at the way she’s sizing him up.

“Yes, mama, this is Mando. He is my—“ You start to say but Din cuts you off smoothly, extending his hand to your mother.

“Her partner. Din, Din is my name,” He murmurs, taking her hands into his.

The smile on your mother’s face matches your own— wide, flustered and accompanied by warmth that spreads through your entire body. He may be encased in metal but he can always make a woman swoon.

“Din. Thank you for taking care of my daughter.”

“Mama,” You scold, giving Din a nervous smile.

“It’s a pleasure,” He murmurs to her, his voice just as sandy and nonchalant as ever.

Your mother starts to guide you towards the villages, and Din offers you his arm which you take readily. You’re happy to walk in silence as your mother catches you up on all the happenings— who’s married, given birth, changed professions, or died. All of it goes in one ear and out the other as you try to digest what’s just happened.

He gave her his name. What more is to come?

Eventually, the two of you are sequestered in a corner of your mother’s house as she helps another woman with her hair when Din turns to look at you. You raise a brow at him in question.

He leans closer to you, speaking in a hushed voice, “One day you will teach me to care for my own appropriately.”

“What do you mean?” You whisper back.

You feel his gaze meet yours through his helmet as he says, “When you are truly mine and I am truly yours.”

Your heart skips a beat before pounding rapidly in your chest. You stare into the dark t of his visor, mouth open in shock. He’s full of declarations today, ones that you had hoped would be true but never got your hopes up for. He simply nods his head at you, one of his gloved hands coming to tangle with your own.

Meeting your mother has clearly changed things— all that’s been left unsaid is now cleared up with just a single sentence from him.

His hand doesn’t leave yours as your mother shows him around the village, introducing him as your partner to everyone she can get to speak to her. Din feels a little sheepish, heat creeping into his cheeks by your mothers candidness, by the curious stares of those she speaks to. You keep him close, answering any questions and doing all of the talking if anyone is curious enough to bypass your mother and speak to the two of you.

You don’t even let go to hug those you recognize, holding onto his hand firmly as you wrap an arm around a few of those you encounter. At this, Din’s flush deepens, butterflies in his stomach.

You make him feel like just a man— the most ordinary man in the best way— like he isn’t bound to his creed or this life of hunting. You make him feel like he’s just your Din. A man so desperately in love with a woman that he’d do anything she asked and then some.

Your mother sends you home with droves of oils and butters and soaps. Some of them are for you, but by the labeling and color you can tell that many of them are for Din. There’s a variety, as with the helmet she couldn’t properly see the texture of his hair and gather the corresponding products. It’s your mother’s way of telling you she approves and you hold her tight, murmuring a soft thank you as you bid her goodbye.

The two of you unpack Din’s things, setting the bottles and containers up in a perfect line. You even fetch your own, adding more clutter that both of you are immediately quite fond of. It means more than Din could know, but he’s starting to learn.

He invites you into his bed that night and unlike all of the previous times he stays, gathering you into his arms in the pitch-black space. For the first time, you feel him. He buries his nose into your hair the way he’s always dreamed about.

That night once you’re asleep, Din heads to the fresher, curious about all of the things your mother had sent off with the both of you. You spent a lot of time here earlier— even more than usual. As soon as he’s inside, he sees why. You’ve labeled everything step by step and added his name to the products that are his.

He spends an ungodly amount of time under the water, closing his eyes as he succumbs to the sweet smells. And though they all smell wonderful, he finds himself reaching for your things. He wants to be surrounded by your scent.

When he slides under the covers beside you later, he smells like citrus— that telltale hint of cinnamon. He smells like you. One day, he’ll let you bury your nose in his hair so that you can smell him too. Until then, his helmet is filled with the scent of you and he will have it no other way.

#din djarin x black!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x fem!reader #mando x black!reader #mando x reader #mando x fem!reader #black!reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfiction #arson writes

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misspearly1 · 1 year

Text

Ner Cyar'ika Baar'ur

Secret Santa Event by @pedrostories

My giftee: @taro-666

Pairing: Din D'jarin x F!Medic!Reader (use of Y/N).

Summary: Working for the Mandalorian as his personal medic, it has become apart of the daily routine to battle against people who threaten his safety, or yours. You're apart of the chaos that comes with the bounty hunting life, but how does one particular quarry change everything between you and Din D'jarin?

WC: 8k

Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Fic is set in season one, between episode one to three. Slight changes in the storyline from the TV show. Cursing. Use of Mando'a (with translations). Friends to Lovers. Mutual Pining. Violence and Injury. Angst with a happy ending. Smut. Mentions of wet dreams. Unprotected PIV. Praise kink. Fluff.

AN: Taro! Omg, I've been so excited to share this story with you and to finally come off anon. Hey friend! 👋 I hope you enjoy the read, my love ❤️.

@supernaturalgirl20 Thank you so much for the beta, beautiful! You're a star 🥰.

There aren’t a lot of things that surprise you these days as a trained medic; you’ve been through a lot and have seen nearly twice as much. Having said that, it’s almost as if you’ve grown used to the mayhem that comes with treating the sick and the wounded because of your line of work.

For instance, it doesn’t surprise you anymore when your boss requires your medical assistance considering he is actually in need of your assistance quite often, and it’s the very reason he hired you in the first place.

The Mandalorian is your boss, or Mando as he is known to some, and his involvement in the bounty hunting business was never in your interest at first - your a healer, not a fighter - but where there is a fight, there is almost always a need for someone to be patched up afterwards.

There’s never a dull moment working with the Mandalorian, his daily life is mayhem, more so in the last several weeks since his workload has been busier than usual and seeing that you’ve already adapted to the chaos around treating the sick and wounded, especially on war-torn planets, you quickly adopted his chaotic lifestyle as well.

There wasn’t much difference truthfully, only that you were treating one patient instead of several a day, and rather than coming to you for medical treatment, Mando offered you to move into his ship as an alternative. You didn’t oppose the idea and accepted his offer, not only because the pay is better, but the company is welcome too.

As well as this, you didn’t mind moving into Mando’s ship because he used to visit you regularly for medical attention back on Nevarro. That's where The Bounty Hunter’s Guild is situated, it’s their home base, and although you only stayed in the city for seven months, you didn’t particularly enjoy your time on the volcanic planet. It’s a world of black sand, rocky terrain, and rivers flowing with lava instead of water.

While it was beautiful to gaze upon at night, it was also deadly as the Reptavion's used the darkness to their advantage, hunting anything it could carry before taking flight. Nevarro provided work opportunities and credits, but it wasn’t a place to call home.

However, the volcanic planet is where you met Mando for the very first time. During the months you were staying in the city, you were working in a small medical clinic, and there were plenty more suitable facilities for the man to visit, but he chose your place of work instead.

At first, you assumed it was for discretion as the clinic's unspoken rule was ‘ask no question, hear no lies’, but sometimes he would come to see you with minor injuries that could be treated by his own hands, thus leading you to believe that he was interested in more than just your help. Besides, you enjoyed the man's company when he would come to visit you. He wasn’t much of a talker back then, but as time passed, he gradually opened up.

Moving into the man's ship brought you closer to each other. You became his partner more than his employee, and you love your job because it simply doesn’t feel like a job. It feels like you're working with a trusted friend, sharing the riches and helping each other out.

Whether or not he was actually in need of your service back on Nevarro doesn’t matter. What matters is that he saw an opportunity with your skills and presented a deal to make your working life better - which it has.

Ever since you moved in with him, your life has become better in so many ways; you now have a place to call home, and you have a friend you can rely on without the niggling doubt of betrayal in the back of your mind.

Since you were always on the move before, you adopted a cautious nature with everyone regarding every little detail in your life. You never did fully trust people, but you do with Mando. Things are different with him, and one of the many reasons why it's different with him is because you know the man underneath the beskar.

Many people have heard of Mando. They’ve heard the stories about his reputation in the Bounty Hunters Guild, about how he is the best in the parsec, but his past and identity remain a mystery. Even to you, to some extent, but you’ve heard the stories too, heard ‘warrior’ in the whispers and it’s true. He is a fine warrior, one that fights with grace and loyalty to the cause. His cause; his culture and his religion - the way of Mandalore.

While many call him Mando, or the Mandalorian in the Guild, you know him as Din D’jarin. You have not yet had the pleasure to see his identity, but hopefully one day you will have that pleasure and the honour. These are just some of the many reasons why you love your job, but to put it simply; it’s because of Din.

Since there aren’t a lot of things that surprise you anymore in your line of work and partnership with the man, that doesn’t mean there’s nothing that surprises you. Take these last few days for example, it started off with the same regular chaos, but eventually became something you’re not familiar with.

The loading bay of the Razor Crest is almost packed full of quarries, frozen solid in the carbonite blocks with one more space remaining for the Mythrol. You helped Din as far as your abilities could, and since the tracking fob for the Mythrol led him to a public house on the icy planet, Pagadon, you stayed back on the ship and waited for his return.

And of course, it came as no shock when Din returned with the Mythrol, thankfully without any injuries, but the blue-skinned man tried to pull a fast one. However, it wasn’t fast enough as the Mandalorian was two steps ahead of the trickery. He always is.

Still, just like the normalities in the bounty hunting life, you made your way back to Nevarro and met with Greef Karga in the cantina to offload the carbonite blocks, receive your payments and gather more tracking fobs leading to more quarries.

The surprise began when the words ‘off the books’ were uttered by Greef himself and from the moment Din took his next job, you had mixed feelings. There was no chain code on the quarry, all you had was their age. Then, Din wouldn’t allow you to accompany him when meeting the client and the very fact he was protective of you in that sense, made you worry about their business.

In the Guild, it’s common knowledge that you don’t ask questions about the criminals you hunt. You just get the job done and let the proper authorities serve justice, but something was gnawing at your gut. As the day went on and the chaos continued, the doubts slowly began to fade as you settled back into normality.

The tracking fob led you to a desert planet, Arvala-7, where you met with a kind man named Kuiil working on a moisture farm. It was especially fun watching Din trying to mount the Blurrg and learn to ride them, but you, too, had to learn in order to join his travels to the Nikto Hideout - where the quarry was.

By the afternoon, you and Din had mastered the art of riding the creatures and you set off to capture the quarry. Just like any other day in the bounty hunting life, there was nothing surprising or out of the ordinary. You worked together like you always do and after leaving you at a safe distance away from the hideout, Din moved forward on his own.

As battle ensued, you watched from afar and used comms to help the man out. He fought magnificently. More often than not, his skills leave you awestruck. Mesmerized. You prepared yourself and stocked up on the medical supplies before leaving the moisture farm earlier, but remained hopeful that there wasn’t a need for them.

When the fight was over, the enemy threats were eliminated and Din was unharmed, you made your way to him and entered the hideout together to find the quarry, but when you first laid your eyes on the target, that unsettled feeling returned to your gut. It was an infant baby, a little green baby with big ears and the cutest eyes you’ve ever seen.

Although you remembered that you don’t ask questions in the Guild about the quarries, you couldn’t help wondering, and worrying, about what the client wants with the child. It couldn’t be anything good if Din didn’t want you present in the meeting with them on Nevarro.

You had many doubts and suspicions, so many that you couldn’t find a single rational explanation as to why a baby had a bounty on its head. Naturally, you asked Din all of the questions you had, but he didn’t have any answers.

Now, as you both make your way back to the Razor Crest with the baby through the mountainous canyons of Arvala-7, you still can’t shake off the nerves around this whole ordeal. Din is many things; a fine warrior in battle, a man of few words, emotionally shielded and well guarded, cold and merciless to those who threaten his safety, or yours, but careless? No, never.

The man isn’t careless. He cares greatly, and deeply, and he, too, knows that something is off about this job. You’ve known Din D’jarin for the last two years and you can sense when the man is nervous. He’s quiet, too quiet, and you don’t like when his mind is on overdrive because if he is worried about this job, then you should be fearful.

“Alright. What is it?” You finally break the silence to ask, eager to make sense of his sudden edgy state of mind. Halting your walk and turning to face him, you perch both hands to your hips and tilt your head to the side in question, adding emphasis to your desire for answers.

The baby situated in his floating pod remains close by, right between you and Din as a matter of fact, and he looks up at you both with curiosity. You fight the urge to look at him, to avoid his influence on you as a woman with maternal instincts. The little guy's presence has undoubtedly caused a heavy bout of uncertainty over your heads, a little rift between you and Mando. Not something of the bad kind, but something unfamiliar and foreign. He’s a child, just an innocent baby, so it’s a confusing and an extremely foreign feeling for you both to be transporting him like he’s just another quarry when he isn’t like any other quarry you’ve ever transported before.

“Din, talk to me,” You shake your head now, frustration evident in your tone, “What is it? What’s got you nervous?” You ask again, although the answer is obvious. It’s because of the baby and all the questions he has for the client, but you want to hear him say it.

To hear Din himself say that something isn’t right will validate your reasons to be worried, but you were met with silence yet again. The man wasn’t even paying attention to you, he was too focused on the little lizards scurrying across the sand. “Mando.” Stepping forward and calling him the name that everyone else uses, that usually gets his attention, you open your mouth to speak but the words didn’t even make it past your lips as he shoved you back.

You fell down and watched as he turned swiftly, gun in hand at the ready to shoot, but a blade whacked it out of his grasp, a blade wielded by a Trandoshan. You and Din both lock onto the tracking fob on his hip, the flashing red dot and audible beep familiar, before he then shoves the floating pod away, keeping the baby out of harm's reach. There’s more than one tracking fob, therefore there’s more bounty hunters looking for the child. Bounty Hunters who are careless and don’t ask questions.

Neither one of you can allow the baby to leave your sight or allow him to fall into the wrong hands, thus causing your legs to act before your mind can think. You quickly rise from the floor and move in to help Din wherever you can. He smites the Trandoshan and they tumble to the floor. Then, he takes the blade from him, before turning around to throw it toward you.

“Stay with the baby.” He orders firmly, and you listen to his instructions. Trusting his fighting skills better than your own, you take a few steps back and give him the space he needs to wield his weapons without hurting you.

However, another Trandoshan jumps out of cover. “Behind you!” You yell, giving Din a heads up just in time to evade the direction of a blade coming down in his path. The fight continues, and you take a few more steps back to look up, checking the surroundings to ensure there aren’t any more hunters hiding in the shadows. But there was. “Another one, on your left.” You call out. Again just in time as another Trandoshan jumps down from a ledge.

With one enemy on the floor, but recovering quickly, the odds weren’t in Din’s favour. It wasn’t a fair fight, even though you’re pretty sure he can handle himself, you worry for his safety nonetheless. And although you're not a fighter, you’ll be damned if you don’t try to help even out the odds against him.

After checking that the baby was safe in his pod, you move toward the closest Trandoshan and raise your weapon. His back was turned, giving you the upper hand to land a blow without deadly consequence. Using the blunt side of the blade, you struck the back of his legs, causing him to stumble forward just at the right time for Din to throw his arms out and punch him in the face, knocking him unconscious as he fell to the floor.

Now that the odds were evened out, you watched Din’s movements with laser-like focus and only intervened when you saw the right moment. You were sure he could handle himself, and you were right, but the element of surprise was the only advantage the Trandoshans had over him in the beginning. He fought the remaining two easily, eventually leaving all three unconscious and regretful for ever trying to take on a skilled Mandalorian.

He turns to you, nodding appreciatively. “Good moves there, mesh’la - thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” You shake your head, “You did all the heavy lifting. I was just lending a hand.” You mumble with a sheepish grin on your lips.

“But I know how you don’t like to fight,” He argues gently with a slight chuckle in his modulated voice. “You fought with me. Accept my gratitude, sweet girl.”

“Ok, ok - you’re welcome, Din.” Your smile deepens with flattery as he stands before you with what you can only describe as pride. It was the way he looked at you; his helmet slightly tilted to the side, displaying the reflection of your own face, and his hands resting on his hips with a puffed out chest.

Since you can’t see the man's facial expression, all you’re left with his body language and tone of voice to understand how he feels. And right now, you not only feel a sense of pride from him, but a flicker of attraction too. It’s in the air. The chemistry, the spark, it’s surrounding you both, and it’s something you feel quite often, but never have the courage to act on.

You’re almost certain that the friendship between you and Din means something more, or at least, it’s heading towards something more. But the intimate moments you share with each other, brief moments like this, make you wonder why he doesn’t make a move.

You don’t even have to see the man's face to know that he’s eyeing you up and down. Upon feeling him lean in, something you’ve felt him do many times before, you muster up the courage to lean in as well.

However, the confidence escapes him at the last second and he pulls back, clearing his throat awkwardly. “We should leave now, mesh’la,” He says, breaking the silence and just like that, the moment is over. “ We need to get back on track and complete the job.”

What? You ask yourself as your mouth falls open and your eyes widen, exhibiting your shock and disbelief. After everything that has happened today, especially after a brawl against three Trandoshans, you're shocked that he is still going to hand the baby over to the client. Din picked up on your reaction instantly and straightened his back, as if preparing himself for a dispute.

“Excuse me?” You scoff, your cheeks burning up again for an entirely different reason now. It wasn’t flattery, or attraction, it was anger. “Din, you can’t be serious. We can’t hand the baby over to the client. Especially now that we know other hunters are after him too-” You walk over to one of the Trandoshans laying on the ground and retrieve their tracking fob before presenting it to him, “-The client gave you the job, but handed out more fobs? It doesn't feel right and you know it.”

“Cyar’ika, please don’t do this.” He sighs while running his gloved hand over the scruff of his neck, the pleadings in his voice for you to not argue about this falling on deaf ears. You are most certainly going to argue about this with him. You cross your arms and shake your head, like you had already settled the argument without even uttering another word. But, the dispute was nowhere near settled. “Need I remind you of the code in the Guild?” He asks with a bite to his tone of voice, “If you don’t like this job, I’ll finish this one on my own.”

“On your own?” You laugh humourlessly while waving the tracking fob. “Good luck with that when the whole Guild could have these! What happens if you get hurt? What then?” Biting back with your own set of questions, you watch as the man huffs a short breath and turns away from you, evidently maddened with your bickering. “Don’t turn away. Answer me -” You give him a second to answer, but grow impatient as you're met with a lengthy silence once again. “- What happens if you get hurt, Mando? You can’t do this alone.”

Din turns to you now and stands close, his voice raised to a level that hurts. “I was doing just fine on my own two years ago, Y/N.” Turning away again, as if he couldn’t stand another second looking at you or spend any more time arguing, it didn’t matter anyways as you had ultimately lost the dispute. You give him another second, another chance to make things right and take back what he said, but he doesn’t turn around or mutter a single word.

“Okay then,” You mumble, lowering your head, “Am I just the medic? Is that all I am to you?” You ask, and still, the man doesn’t turn to face you or answer your question. The silence spoke for him and that was all you needed to know before turning around to walk away. You gave him plenty of chances to fix his mistake, but only until your back was turned did he try.

“Cyar'ika.” He calls out for you, finally coming to his senses, but it wasn’t quick enough as you didn’t respond to him. You made your way towards the baby and the sound of your muffled cries made his head hang low with shame. No matter how quiet you tried to be, your cries were audible to his ears, enhanced by the mechanics in his helmet.

Although you were quite visibly sad, he watched you put on a fake smile and talk to the baby like nothing was wrong. The warmness of your soul shone through the misery, causing the little guy to beam and babble baby nonsense. It was a sight so beautiful to witness, so beautiful that it was distracting.

Din can’t allow himself to get too wrapped up in the emotions that the child brings. It’s conflicting, confusing and… foreign. He’s never felt this way before. Never felt this way before with any woman around a child, but it’s different with you and it clouds his mind, throws him off balance and disrupts his focus so much that he doesn’t pay attention to what’s most important right now. Like the danger lingering in the immediate surroundings.

“Y/N!” The man calls to you again, his voice was laden with urgency. “Behind you! Y/N - behind you.” Sprinting toward your position while swinging the strap of his amban rifle around his chest, Din takes aim at another Trandoshan and fires, obliterating the reptilian humanoid to a thousand dust particles.

You fall down, your knees hitting the sandy terrain below as your pained cries penetrate the sound of his beating heart deafening his ears. You took a hit from the Trandoshan, his blade had cut through your clothes and marked your skin before he was blasted into organic matter.

“Mesh’la.” He choked. Rushing over and kneeling on the ground behind you, he reaches out to hold your arms. The injury you sustained was across your back, diagonally, at least three inches long and almost half an inch deep. A clean cut, but angry red and weeping with blood. “Easy now, sweet girl. You’re bleeding, just take it easy.” He reassures you with a slight tremble in his tone, his worry for your well-being perceivable.

“The disinfectant,” You hissed in reply whilst shaking your head, “Get the disinfectant. It’s in my satchel, Mando.” Gently removing your satchel over your shoulder, he places the bag onto the floor and opens it up to search through your medical supplies. Supplies that are normally used for him. There’s irony in the fact you became a medic to treat others, not yourself, and the man despises that his involvement in the bounty hunting business has caused you harm.

And although he is helping to the best of his knowledge, you’re directing him on what to do. “Open the cap and pour a generous amount over the wound.” You explain, then grab his hand on your hip to hold onto for comfort. He begins to ask if you’re sure, but couldn’t even finish his sentence as your sobbing plea cut him off. “Yes-yes! Just get it over with. Please, Din.”

Listening to your instructions, he held his breath and prepared himself as he began dousing your back with disinfectant. You bawled with agony, your back arching away from him naturally with the instinct to stop the pain, but to his regret, he pulled you towards him and continued to pour. He clenches his jaw as you cry, his fingers almost turning blue from the force of your grip on his hand. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes, to which you don’t accept and stutter in reply. “This isn’t y-your fault.”

Releasing your hand to place his thumb and forefinger on your chin, he tilts your head to look at him before leaning in. “I’m sorry, Y/N - for this, for yelling at you, for saying that I was doing just fine two years ago and… and you’re not just a medic.” He rests his helmet against your head and whispers, though his voice breaks with remorse. “You’re so much more than that, mesh’la. You mean so much to me.”

“Din, I-” You open your mouth to object, but he cuts you off by holding his thumb over your lips while shushing you. “Don’t speak and conserve your energy, we’ll talk about it later. Just let me take care of you first.” He says.

“No, Din…” You sigh, eyes blinking slowly while slurring your words. “I was going… going to say that I… I can’t keep my eyes… I don't feel good…” Your body becomes limp as you fall into his arms. Your vision darkens quickly, and the last thing you saw before everything went black was the baby's eyes looking at you as he peaks over the pod.

The next time you awoke, it was a brief moment of consciousness. The familiar sound of Din’s amban rifle could be heard as he fired off multiple rounds and your eyes glimmered open to see his legs, the bandolier of cartridges wrapped around his calf. You saw his gloved hand reaching for ammunition to load into his weapon and worried as to why he needed them.

“It’s ok. Everything is ok,” he says upon noticing you were awake and were fighting to keep your eyes open. “We’re safe here. Go back to sleep, cyar’ika.”

Eyes closing once again, you couldn’t keep them open no matter how hard you tried to, and his voice soon faded as you slipped into a deep slumber. The silence took over and, oddly, it felt comforting. Although it only felt like minutes had passed, you knew it must have been longer as your surroundings were different.

There was no longer a warm breeze, but the cold presence of steel pressing into your side, and beneath you, it felt spongy and soft, thus indicating you were laying on a bed. The unmistakable sound of Kuiil’s voice could be heard in the distance as he makes the baby laugh and you open your eyes to confirm your assumptions on your whereabouts, but are met with locks of brown hair instead.

It’s Din. He’s the cold presence of steel pressing into your side as he sat on the edge of the bed and it’s his hair that you were currently staring at with wide eyes. His back was turned, but you could still see the back of his head and instantly shut your eyes, fearing that if you spent one more second looking, you wouldn’t be able to turn away.

“Mando,” You whisper immediately, panicking, then feel him moving around. “Mando, why don’t you have your helmet on? Stars! I could have seen your face.”

You begin to shift your position to turn away from him, but are reminded of the wound on your back. The pain struck you suddenly and harshly, causing Din’s hands to dart out to cover your eyes just in time as you opened them with instinct. He was gentle but quick. “It’s ok, mesh’la. You can’t see, it’s ok.” He reassures you through the strained whimpers slipping past your lips.

“Where is your helmet?” You ask, getting your teeth. You close your eyes again once the surge of pain passes over and the soothing properties of bacta gel takes over. You can feel the substance on your back, feel the stuff working to heal your injury. “My eyes are closed now. It’s safe but… Shit, Din. I saw your hair.” You say apologetically.

“It’s fine, sweet girl.” He chuckles softly, the sound making your mouth fall open with shock as you retort. “It’s not funny. I’m not allowed to see you - or your hair! What… W-what happens now?” You ask, to which he laughs again and startles you unintentionally when reaching out to cup your cheek. You weren’t expecting to feel his gloved fingers on your skin, but you quickly leaned into his touch as his gesture brought consolation.

“Look at me,” He requests, “It's safe to look, I promise.”

Rolling your eyes behind closed lids, you make a surprised sound when he caresses your cheek with his thumb. Again, you weren’t expecting the comforting gesture, but deeply appreciated it. And whether or not it was the bacta gel or Din easing the discomfort in your back, you chose to believe it was the latter.

A short moment passes before you finally open your eyes and find relief in the T shape of his helmet. Although you would love nothing more than to see his identity, the face of his helmet is what you know, it’s home. Your face softens as you relax into the palm of his hand, but the importance and worry around your question still lingers, thus causing you to ask again. “What happens now? I thought I wasn’t allowed to see you without the helmet, doesn’t that also mean I can’t see your hair?”

“You didn’t see my face, nor did you remove my helmet, mesh’la,” He shakes his head, his voice soft like honey, “It’s okay and besides-” He turns his head, displaying the brown locks of his hair at the base of his neck, “-You can see my hair with the helmet on.”

“Oh,” You whisper with intrigue, “Surprised I didn’t notice sooner, but your hair is…” Lifting your hand with a desire to touch his hair, you back out at the last second and retract your arm, but Din felt your movements and quickly assured. “Go ahead. I trust you.”

You reach out again and caress the base of his neck, your fingertips massaging his scalp which draws out the heaviest sounding exhale you’ve ever heard from him; a sigh of relief, filled with endearment and relaxation. It was a gratifying feeling, seeing and hearing the man lean into your touch without fear of betrayal in this moment of vulnerability. Din is vulnerable at this moment, his guard is down and just the mere thought of removing his helmet sickens you. It never crosses your mind.

“Your hair is beautiful, Din.” You murmur sweetly, a smile on your lips displaying your satisfaction and joy from something so simple. The action of touching his hair which you’d love to do again, to feel him melt in your arms like soft putty and feel a sense of home from your touch, like you feel a sense of home when looking into the T-shape of his visor.

You gently squeeze the base of his neck, a way of reassuring him, before pulling your hand back, however, it was apparent that he wanted more as he sharply held your wrist and directed your hand back to his hair. “Please?” He asks in a whispered breath, hopeful and optimistic, desperate. “Keep playing with my hair, ner cyar’ika.”

You laugh, a mixture of surprise and confusion obvious in your tone. The difference in his pet name for you was confusing, and his request for you to continue playing with his hair was surprising. Though, you granted his request gladly and began playing with his hair. “What does cyar’ika mean anyway?” You ask, tilting your head with interest while wondering what faces he was making under the helmet from your massaging movements. “Is there a difference when you say ner cyar’ika?”

“Yes.” He groans in reply, the sound drawing out another laugh from your lips as your smile deepens. You open your mouth to ask another question, until he turns his head to face you and leans across your body. The pause in his manoeuvre speaks of hesitancy, unsure on whether or not you were comfortable with what was about to do.

The question you had vanishes from your mind as you nod to the man, nodding with confirmation for him to lay down and rest his head in your arms. The bed in which you lay on didn’t feel small until Mando lay on it with you. Not that you minded anyway, but it really detailed the size and stature of the man, especially the broad expanse of his chest and back.

He raised both hands to his helmet, and before he could even ask, you closed your eyes with baited breath as he removed it to optimize the comfiest position. The position he chose however, was burying his face between your neck and shoulder. You didn't release the breath you were holding, it was snatched from your lungs.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought this day would come, but doubt is what kept it at the back of your mind. You never entertained the idea of laying in bed with Mando too much as it felt like a pipe dream to have the man in your arms like this, and now that you do, it feels better than you ever could have imagined.

The pain in your back is practically non-existent now, almost as if you never even sustained an injury, and that’s because of his presence, his proximity and his comfort. It wasn’t a struggle to keep your eyes closed as you basked in the sensation of him carefully laying his weight over you like this.

Something else you’ve also thought about in the past, but tried not to think about too much, is Din laying over you for an entirely different reason. And perhaps it’s because of the level of intimacy in this position that brings those thoughts back to the surface, or maybe it was the electrifying feeling of his lips pressed against your skin.

The man wasn’t exactly kissing you per se, but the bare contact of his lips placed against your neck like this felt like a kiss. Besides, the vest shirt that you wore left a lot of skin on your chest on display, thus providing Din, and yourself, to relish in skin-to-skin contact.

You could feel his beard, it was a light amount of hair, grazing against you with every little movement of his head. Soon, though, all of those little movements from Din became obvious that he was uncomfortable, as if he kept moving slightly to adjust his comfort.

“Want me to stop?” You ask, wondering if he has had enough of you playing with his hair, but to your delight, he shook his head as he inhaled deeply. He smiles against your skin, thus piquing your interest. “What? What is it?” You laugh bashfully.

“You smell good, ner cyar’ika.” He replies, nestling his nose into your neck to inhale the natural scent of you. The smile on your face is yet to fade, his actions are what keeps your lips turned upwards, that was until you felt something wet dart onto your skin. It was brief, too brief, but you felt it nonetheless.

It was Din’s tongue, and your smile disappears as you bite your lip, leaving a hankering desire to feel it again. Your skin heats up beneath him as you entertain those thoughts about him lying over you like this for a different reason. You think about how you’ve yearned for his gloved fingers to touch other areas of your body, and as well as wondering about his identity, you’ve also wondered what he looks like nude. A mind is an imaginative place, and you’ve imagined him naked more than once. You sigh softly with the ache between your legs, wishing Din to be the one who eases it.

“Mesh’la,” He mumbles, grabbing your attention, and when you hum in reply to him, he asks: “Is everything ok? Your heart is racing -” Your eyes spring open with worry, feeling like he could see your dirty thoughts, thus causing your heart to pound harder, “- Hey, hey, relax. I can move, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asks, blaming himself for your panic. Although he is to blame, it’s not for the reason he thinks.

“No, it’s just…” You falter with finding the right words, but the patience to wait for him any longer escapes you. “It’s just that I felt your tongue on my neck and if… Stars, this is going to be embarrassing if I’m wrong… and if you did it purposely, then I want to feel it again, but…” You gulp, gathering your courage to admit your feelings, “...But if it was just a mistake, then I think that we should maybe stop what we’re doing because I’m attracted to you Din.”

“You are?” He asks, to which you reply firmly. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“So…” He smiles, “You like this?” He asks before placing an open mouthed kiss to your neck, his tongue darting out onto your skin again, thus eliciting you to sigh breathily. “Y-yes. Yes, I like that.” Your eyes close naturally as he plants another kiss on your skin, still with a smile on his lips, as he begins to pant. “I’m attracted to you too. Have been for a long time, ner cyar’ika.”

“Oh, Din.” You moan. With arousal and relief, his admission makes you moan, the sound acting as a catalyst as he moves down your body, his head disappearing under the covers eagerly to hear you moan again. “Are you able to lay on your back?” You hear him ask, though his voice was muffled, you heard him clearly and nod frantically with excitement.

Shifting your position to accommodate him, you couldn’t feel the pain in your back anymore and slipped your hands beneath the covers, your fingers finding his hair with ease. “It’s ok, I’m comfortable lying like this.” You say while focusing on his every move with anticipation. You could feel his breath fanning across your lower stomach, his fingers hooked inside the waistband of your pants as he leans in to place another kiss on your skin.

You lift your hips up with a silent request, one that he understood without a need for words, and begins pulling your pants down, along with your underwear. He leans in and presses his lips to your inner thigh, nipping a path toward your sex. You unintentionally begin gripping his hair by the handfuls, evidently desperate to feel his tongue delve into your slick folds. The man doesn’t waste time and gives in to his own desperation.

“Din!” You whine upon feeling the tip of his tongue meet your clit. He teases you at first, moving his tongue in a circular motion with a feather-light touch, the action making your hips lift off the bed to search for more. You feel him smiling against your inner thigh, clearly satisfied with your reactions, before he closes his lips around your sensitive bud and sucks gently.

You let go of his hair to hold the back of your palm over your mouth, quieting your mewls of pleasure to a respectable level. Considering all the noises Din himself is making was driving you feral, it was a struggle to try and keep quiet. He sounded hungry, like a man starved for a taste of your sweetness right from the source, as if he had dreamed of this moment and was making the most of it now that it’s a reality.

Your hands abandoned his hair to grip handfuls of the bed sheets instead, your back arching as you tilt your head to the side and bury your face into the pillow. Your orgasm crept up on you, started off with a happy cramp in your stomach but quickly became bliss as he eased a finger inside your entrance, soothing the ache in your velvety walls. Din grunted heavily, needily, as he drank your desire.

He continued to flick his tongue against your clit while angling his finger into a come hither motion, caressing that sweet spot deep inside. The stars behind your eyes and the goosebumps rippling across your body never felt so good before, especially from the simple act of receiving oral. It’s been a while, a long while, since you’ve last felt the pleasurable touch of your own hands, let alone a man's pair of hands.

You needed this, needed to release all your pent up sexual energy, though it only made you insatiable for more. “Din,” You call to him, calling on his help to your frustrations, “Din, I need you.”

Suddenly, his hand emerges from the quilt, “Here,” he says, handing you a blindfold. “Put this on for me, sweet girl.” He asks, to which you oblige and pull the item over your eyes hastily. “Ready - now get up here, I need to feel you.”

Moving up your body without having to tell him twice, he travels slowly and plants kisses on your skin along the way, his smile never fading as he takes in the sight of you beneath him. “Gar’re bid mesh’la… (you’re so beautiful).” He growls wantonly, “...Bid, bid mesh’la (so, so beautiful).”

“I’m not sure what that means,” You giggle, the smile on your lips as wide as ever, “But I like the way you say it.” You reach out carefully in search of his face, to which he helps by directing your hands, and once you feel him, you gasp. “Stars! You’re so beautiful,” you whisper in awe as you trace the outline of his facial features, “Your lips… your cheekbones… nose… jawline… everything about you is beautiful, Din.”

“Thank you, sweet girl.” He breathes, eyes closing to relish in the soft touch of your palms cupping his cheeks. “I’ll teach you Mando’a and soon you will understand everything I say, but I said you were beautiful too. So beautiful.” He explains, causing your cheeks to burn once again with flattery as you pull him closer. His lips press against yours with a bruising kiss, and you couldn’t help but moan because of the raw passion and loving desire to finally feel what you’ve yearned for.

Although there was a hint of desperation in his bid to remove your clothes, Din was gentle with his movements, gentle and respectful. You helped remove his clothes too, and with each inch of skin revealed, you marvelled at the bare touch of him pressing against you. You’ve seen areas of the man's skin before when taking care of his injuries, but never fully seen him naked.

Using your sense of touch to see, you feel his body and drag your fingers along his chest, feeling the brute strength that he holds. The strength of a warrior. Between your legs, you feel his member pressing against your cunt and it was an impressive size. Aching to be buried in your warm. His breath bellowing across your face, hot and heavy, laden with the same sound of relief from earlier when you played with his hair as you admire his body now.

“Cyar’ika.” He groans. Placing his hands beside your head, you feel his body shudder with need, his hips rolling forward ever so slightly to ease the throb that burdens his cock. You slip your hands around the base of his neck, pulling him in to close the gap and kissing his lips whilst parting your legs. As he lines himself up at your entrance, your hands fall to his biceps, holding him tightly as you prepare from the breach.

“Nngh,” you break off to moan, deeply and satisfyingly, “Fuck, Din! Keep going.” You lift your head off the pillow to kiss him again, letting him swallow all the little pretty noises you were making as he carefully buried himself to the hilt. Your walls opened up with ease, stretching to accommodate his size. “It’s ok,” You say, pleading for him to move. “I’m ok.”

“Are you sure, mesh’la?” He asks, to which you nod in reply. “Waited so long for this,” pulling his hips back slowly, he grabs onto your thigh for leverage before burying himself into your cunt again. “Dank Farrik!” He grunts across your face, “So warm and tight. Better than I imagined, sweet girl.”

The sound of his filthy words made you mewl, having never heard the man speak this way before, you were surprised, yet growing more aroused and confident to be honest with him. “I used to think… Shit!” You stutter as he grinds into you, drawing out a moan from your lips, “...I used to think about this. In the night, while you were sleeping in your bunk, I’d think about you making love to me.” You admit.

“Oh fuck.” Din gasps. Picking up his pace while resting his forehead against yours, his moans broken and breathless, his cock reaches a new depth inside your cunt, hitting that sweet spot inside over and over again. “I’m so relieved to hear you say that,” he says, “I took myself in hand many nights thinking about you."

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You quickly warn upon feeling the peak of your climax racing toward you. “I’m close. Stars! I’m so close. Keep talking to me.” You cry, feeling yourself on the verge of tearing up from the intensity of your pleasure, but the sound of his voice keeps you tethered to the moment, preventing you from floating up to cloud nine.

“I would dream about you often,” He groans while holding the base of your neck, his thumbs dragging across your skin reassuringly, “Wet dreams, mesh’la. I felt so ashamed, but… Fuck, they felt so good. Dreaming about you in my sleep felt so good.”

“More… Tell me more.” You hiss. Wrapping your legs around his back and locking your ankles together, you feel his hips falter as he moans through gritted teeth. “Your pussy, nngh! I’d dream about your pussy wrapped around me, taking my load, mesh’la. Again and again until you couldn’t hold any more and it dripped out of you. Fuck! I’m gonna… Shit, Y/N, I’m coming-” He cuts himself off with a needy whine, throwing his head back with bliss as he feels you clenching around him.

“I-Inside,” You begged him, “Please, Din. Come inside of me.” The man couldn’t stop himself even if he tried to. You felt him reach climax, the warmth of his release spreading inside of you, coating your velvety walls as they pulsed around him, as if milking him of everything he could give. “Mando. Fuuck, Mando!” You mewled directly into his ear, your eyes screwed shut behind the blindfold as his orgasm pushed you over the edge.

White static casted over your eyes as your ears ring loudly, your heart thrums in your chest as nothing but pleasure courses through your veins. You unintentionally dig your nails into his back, clawing at his skin as he reverts to a slow grind into your cunt, the movements pleasuring your clit and prolonging the ecstasy of your high. “That’s it, sweet girl. There you go.” He praises you through it as he comes down from his orgasm, the sound of his voice overstimulating.

Resting your head back against the pillow as you come down, breathing heavily, he plants loving kisses along your jawline and neck. “So pretty like this.” He whispers sweetly, his voice heavy with satisfaction as your hands find his face again. “Are you okay?” He asks.

“How…” Your voice croaks, “How do you say happy in Mando’a?”

“Briikase,” He chuckles, to which you reply with a smile. “Well, I’m briikase right now. Really briikase.”

“Me too, cyar’ika-” He pauses to brush the hair away from your face, correcting himself. “Ner cyar’ika baar’ur.” You open your mouth to ask another question, to ask what difference in his pet names mean, but he leans in to catch your lips in a fervent kiss instead.

Din pulls back, looking to where your eyes would be behind the blindfold while caressing your cheek. “Ner cyar’ika baar’ur... my darling medic. Ni’m ori briikase as pirusti bal ni kar'taylir darasuum gar, mesh’la... I’m very happy as well and I love you, beautiful.”

You make a surprised sound when hearing some familiar words in his language and learning what they mean, that he has said them before in the past. “I love you too, Din.” You say earnestly, the tears staining the fabric of his blindfold, which you now just realized that he’s kept in his pocket in hopes to use with you one day, like today. You not only became Din D’jarin’s medic, but you became his - his darling medic.

There aren’t a lot of things that surprise you these days as a trained medic, but that doesn’t mean nothing surprises you anymore. These last few days have been adventurous and emotional, foreign and unfamiliar, life-threatening and dangerous. It’s been life-changing for you and the Mandalorian, and it’s all because of a baby. The little guys presence not only sparked your maternal instincts, but the protective fatherly instincts within Din too.

And, although neither of you know it now, the baby is only just the beginning of your treacherous journey across the stars in search of reuniting him with his people.

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gloomwitchwrites · 5 months

Text

Frozen Ground: Part 1 (Din Djarin x Female Reader)

Content & Warnings: romantic fluff, love at first sight, Mandalorian culture

Word Count: 5.4k

Din travels to a farming planet to recruit a reclusive group of Mandalorians to help retake Mandalore. The snowy season is starting, and the locals are preparing for their winter observance. While waiting for the Mandalorian covert to come to a decision, Din spends time with the local population, finding a bit of comfort with a particular someone.

A/N: Part of the Winter 2023 Collection

Part 2

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

Mando’a Translations: buir – father, mother Mando’ade – Mandalorians (plural) vod – brother, sister, comrade

The N1 Starfighter exits hyperspace and cruises through Itera airspace.

Grogu snoozes softly in Din’s lap. His small body is curled up in a ball, and his face is turned into Din’s chest plate as he slumbers. The foundling has been asleep the entire way to Itera, and he shows no sign of waking any time soon.

Din glances away from his foundling and out the N1’s viewport. A small twang of nervousness coils in the pit of his stomach as he observes the quickly approaching planet. It’s not the planet itself that worries Din, but why he was sent here in the first place. It is the task that Bo-Katan Kryze placed upon him with confidence that sits heavy on his shoulders.

Bo-Katan is uniting the clans. She is calling back the tribes in an effort to reclaim Mandalore. She heard a rumor that a reclusive tribe of Mandalorians dwell on Itera. Din is supposed to find them, and convince them to come back with him to Nevarro.

That is all the information he has. Bo-Katan had little intel to give. Din has no idea if these Mandalorians are more like his tribe, or if they lean more towards the ideals that Bo-Katan and her kin follow.

As Mandalorians, this tribe on Itera should welcome him. But Din knows that isn’t always the case. It wasn’t that long ago that Din had his own misgivings against fellow Mandalorians who walked the path differently than he.

When he first met Bo-Katan Kryze and her Nite Owls, Din shunned them. Even when they stepped in to save his foundling, and then later when a group of Quarren attacked him, Din was still reluctant to engage with them.

It’s not his proudest moment, and since then, much about his life has changed. The way he sees the galaxy, and his understanding of what it means to be a Mandalorian has shifted significantly in the last few years. While he holds tightly to his ideals, he knows that his way is not the only way.

Mandalorians should not hide in the dark any longer.

The cloudy expanse of Itera becomes clearer as Din cruises closer. Itera is a fertile farming planet located on the edge of the Middle Rim. Din rummaged around in some public achieves to scrounge up any information he could about it. According to the information he did manage to locate, Itera is relatively peaceful and mostly inhabited by small farming communities.

Even though Bo-Katan lacked information on who these Mandalorians are, she was able to provide Din with an estimated range of coordinates. She told him that they might be located within this range, but wasn’t entirely sure if her intel was reliable.

He’s worked with less.

Din punches in the numbers and the navigation system focuses in on a small bit of land in the northern hemisphere.

The N1’s engine purrs, and Grogu turns over in Din’s lap. The foundling does not wake.

Din’s ship breaks through the atmosphere and effortlessly transitions into the gray cloud cover. The clouds spit Din out over dreary farmland. Below him, droids and people work the land.

Din does not see any buildings that indicate a settlement. He checks the navigation system again and it reveals his suspicions. The coordinates Bo-Katan gave him cover too much land. He’ll need to tighten the search.

“Kriff me,” mutters Din, as he clears the coordinates from the nav system. “R5, scan the surface. Let’s find civilization.”

R5 chirps, and then a little antenna pops out of its head, spinning slowly in a circle. Din reduces his speed over the farmland, waiting for R5 to give him an answer. After a few minutes, the antenna retreats, and then the navigation system lights up with new coordinates.

Din follows the set path. While most of what Din sees is farmland, buildings start to appear in small intervals. At first, it’s just one or two, and then a cluster at a time. Before long, the wall of a settlement appears. There is open land to the left that Din deicides to land on.

He brings the N1 down softly.

Grogu still doesn’t stir. The little womprat has his right hand in his mouth, and a little line of drool runs down the back Grogu’s palm. Sighing, Din wipes it away.

“R5, what’s the temperature outside?” asks Din quietly as he watches a few swirls of snow drift down from the gray clouds. They land on the glass of the N1 and immediately melt.

R5 responds in a series of binary and Din sighs.

It’s far too cold for Grogu to be walking around for long periods of time. The snowy season has arrived on this planet, and Grogu will need something warmer to wear.

Slowly, Din releases the hatch and cold air drifts in. Using the blanket from Grogu’s pram, Din wraps the foundling in it, gently laying him down in the cockpit seat. Din steps out onto the wing and then the hard ground as the hatch closes.

He turns to R5. “Keep an eye on him while I’m gone.” R5 beeps in reply and Din heads toward the open gates.

The wood wall of the settlement seems more decorative than functional, roughly stopping at Din’s chest. Once Din approaches the entrance, he notices that there are no gates at all. It’s entirely open.

Strolling down the main street, Din realizes rather quickly that no one avoids him. It’s the exact opposite. Every person he passes greets Din with a friendly “hello” or nodding of the head before going about their day.

It’s bizarre. Strange. And it momentarily disorients him.

Din thought that he might ask around, see if he could find someone willing to talk to him. But every friendly face only causes him to question who he needs to speak to on locating the Mandalorian covert. No one shies away or avoids looking directly at his helmet. Each person is bold and unafraid of him.

Is the Mandalorian covert known to these people? Do they interact with them frequently?

Perhaps. It would explain why no one seems frightened of him.

Din enters deeper into the settlement, seeking out a cantina or public establishment where he might find information. Not finding any such place on the main road, Din tracks back to the very front of the settlement, deciding to head east and take a look around.

Rounding a corner, he hears the distinct sound of laughter. It’s not one person, or even a few, but a low roar like a small crowd. Din keeps walking, tracking the sound, coming across a small building that hardly looks big enough to hold a drinking establishment. In addition, the door is just red fabric handing from the top of the door frame.

The laughter comes again, and it’s much louder than before. He’s in the right spot.

With all the confidence Din can muster, he strides up to the curtain, pushing it aside and he steps into the building.

Din comes to a grinding halt, nearly tripping on his own feet.

This is not a cantina or anything similar.

A group of women, nearly fifteen in total, occupy the space. They all have large canvas sacks next to them, each one full of something different. Some look like they’re full of flower petals while others appear to hold bright red berries. The women vary in age. Most of them are older than Din, but there are a few who look to be about his age, give or take a few years.

They glance up but keep working, several of them smiling softly at him.

Din feels like an unwanted intruder even though the women appear calm and indifferent to his presence. He mumbles a “sorry” intended to back out the way he came, but the moment his boot slides backward, one of the women stands, her full attention on him.

“How can I help you, Mandalorian?”

You dust a few petals off your apron, missing the one in your hair, and approach Din, hands clasped in front of you. Din’s heart temporarily stutters to a stop before revving into a thudding beat he can feel in his ears. You’re pretty, but that isn’t the only thing he notices. You’re delicate lines and curves appeal to him in a way that trigger’s his protective instinct.

The flash of feeling, this need Din suddenly exhibits flashes bright and hot before his brain catches up and tries to smother it down to cooling embers.

“Excuse me. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” Din tries to back out again but you only push in, and Din’s hand relexify forms a fist in an attempt to thwart the growing need to touch you.

“There is no interruption. How can I be of service to you?” Your head tilts to the right slightly, and the eagerness on your face sends blood to his groin.

Din’s eyes roam all over your body, but his eyes keep going back to the lone petal that’s tangled in the strands of your hair.

The other women still work, none of them glancing in Din’s direction. He decides to seek help, knowing it might not do much.

“There is a Mandalorian covert on this planet that I’m searching for. Do you know where I might find them?”

“Oh,” you murmur. Your eyes round slightly, and your lips part in surprise. “I didn’t realize—I thought you—” You shake your head and the petal in your hair stays put.

“Is there anyone here that might know?”

The gentle surprise morphs into amusement. “Everyone knows where they are.” The corners of your mouth curve up into a soft smile and Din nearly melts under that gaze. He is so absorbed in your beauty that your words are the last thing to catch up to him.

Everyone knows where they are?

Din does not have the chance to follow-up, you’re already talking, telling him exactly what he needs to know. “Just to the north of here. There’s a forested area where the covert lives.”

This is unusual, and Din is slightly unsure whether or not he can trust what he might find once he ventures in that direction.

“Do you know where exactly?”

You shake your head. “We do not go in. They like their privacy, and we are respectful of that.”

This is better news. The two groups must interact frequently. It would explain why everyone in town isn’t afraid of him.

“You’re not from around here?” you ask, curiosity tinging your tone.

“No,” replies Din. “I’m not.”

Your gaze softens. “If no one has, allow me to formally welcome you.”

Without thinking—without pausing to reconsider—Din reaches toward you, his gloved fingers plucking the petal from your hair. He presents it to you, open palmed.

Delicately, you lift it, rubbing it between your fingers. With your gaze on the petal, Din takes a step back, the curtain brushing against his back. You glance up, and Din inclines his head, disappearing quickly before he does something he’ll regret.

Din still burns beneath his armor even after he arrives back at the N1. Grogu is still sleeping, and his ship is entirely untouched. Din is careful with the foundling when he settles back into the cockpit.

He relays the information to R5 who promptly scans the area, sending new coordinates to the navigation system. Once clear, Din follows the trail north, finding the forest you mentioned. Din circles around a few times, eventually settling on a flat spot of land just outside the tree line. Din lowers the N1 to the planet’s surface. Grogu stirs in his lap but doesn’t wake.

He leaves Grogu behind again with R5, knowing that he can come back for Grogu later. The droid will look after him until Din can assess the situation.

As Din approaches the tree line, he pauses, surveying the ground around him. At first glance there are no footprints of even animal prints. He engages the scanner in his helmet. The moment it switches on, his screen lights up with glowing boot prints. They are everywhere, moving in so many directions that Din cannot find a pattern.

Frowning, Din switches over to another scanner. This one seeks out what only Mandalorians leave behind for others of their kind to find. He sweeps the scanner over the ground, and then the trees. He comes up empty.

Sighing, Din starts walking, stepping past the tree line and tries again, this time doing a slow sweep of the ground and trees. The hard ground crunches under his boots, and it is incredibly quiet, the only sound is the whistling wind.

On a tree in the distance, a soft glow catches Din’s attention in the scanner. He pauses, takes one step back for a better view. It’s a glowing Mythosaur with an arrow beneath it pointing to the right.

This is his lead. This is his break. You were telling the truth.

Din heads toward the glowing symbol and then follows the direction the arrow indicates, scanning the area for any other markers. He locates another that directs him deeper into the trees. It leads to a large rock formation. The stone slabs are layered over each other like a twisted crown.

There, glowing bright against the gray rock, is another Mythosaur.

“Hail, vod.”

Din whirls around, his hand on his blaster. The only thing that stays his hand from drawing the weapon is the use of the word vod.

A male Mandalorian drops from a tree branch and strides forward, stopping a few feet away from Din. His armor is dented in a few places and painted in various green tones that emulate the trees.

No wonder Din didn’t see him.

The man has not drawn his weapon, which means he does not see Din as a threat. But why would he? Mandalorians are stronger together, and any reunion, even between tribes, is a joyous one.

Din immediately removes his hand from his blaster, standing tall and proud. He has a job to do. “My name is Din Djarin. I’ve come on behalf of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze.”

The green-clad Mandalorian crosses his arms. “I see,” he replies, tone grim. “And what does Lady Kryze want with us?”

Better to get it out now in case he’s turned away. “She is rallying the clans to retake Mandalore.”

The man is quiet for a beat before he answers. “And she wishes for us to join her?”

“She does.”

The Mandalorian nods, and drops his arms, striding forward. “Well, Din Djarin. You are welcome in our enclave, and we will hear what you have to say.” He presents his hand and Din clasps it. “I am Crix Lera. Welcome to our home.”

Crix releases Din’s hand. He brushes past Din and heads to the rock.

Din follows, and notices a small opening that Crix disappears inside. The space isn’t tight but the formation of the natural rock hides the entrance. You’d need to know exactly where it is to see it.

Din slides through the opening, only to find himself in a small tunnel. Crix walks ahead, and Din follows on his heels along the path. They don’t walk for long. The small tunnel begins to widen, and then opens up into a large communal area.

The first thing Din immediately notices are the lack of faces. Everyone wears a helmet except for a few small children. The communal area is circular, and the center of the room is lower than the rest of the floor. There is a fire burning there, the smoke curling upward to exit through a naturally formed ventilation shaft. In the rocky ceiling are small cut outs that let in some natural light.

When Din enters the area on Crix’s heels, several people pause and glance up, watching the duo as Crix walks along the edge of the room. Din takes this time to take a closer look at the Mandalorians he’s been sent to speak with.

They all appear healthy. Their armor is relatively clean and in good repair. The ratio of men to women is fairly equal, and the number of foundlings is much larger than his tribe’s. Din’s gaze passes over a woman standing by the far wall with a man and a small child. She’s clutching her belly, and that is when Din notices the slight bulge underneath her chest plate.

“You’ll meet with our armorer and tribe leaders,” says Crix over his shoulder, drawing Din’s attention away from the slowly growing crowd of Mandalorians.

“Do they make all the decisions?”

Crix shakes his head. “No. We make them as a group. But when it comes to matters pertaining to the whole clan, they are the ones who mediate the discussions. We will often look to them for final guidance.”

Din does not reply. It’s similar to how his own tribe operates, but he still has too many questions.

Crix guides Din to a small cut in the rock wall. It’s an archway, and it deposits them into a much smaller chamber. A simple forge sits in the center of the room. A Mandalorian Armorer and a child stand together near a workbench. The child is young but old enough to start their training. The two of them talk softly.

On the opposite side of the room, another Mandalorian hammers away at some armor. It’s clear that this is still a child, perhaps a teenager, and must be an apprentice of some kind because his armor is like that of the armorer’s.

The armorer and child both look up when Din and Crix enter the room. Din hangs back near the archway as Crix addresses the armorer.

“We have a visitor, Vikal. This is Din Djarin. Sent to us by Lady Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. He says she is rallying the clans to retake Mandalore.”

At the mention of retaking Mandalore, the apprentice pauses mid-swing to glance over at Din. The small child at Vikal’s hip shifts slightly, clearly nervous.

Vikal sets the vambrace he’s holding on top of the workbench. He turns toward the apprentice. “Darro. Take your brother and leave us.”

Darro immediately responds, heading in their direction.

“But buir!” protests the child, his little fist tugging on his father’s hand.

“Hush. Go with your brother.” Vikal places a hand on the child’s shoulder just as Darro presents his hand. The child takes it, and Din steps to the side as they pass through the archway.

Once they leave, Vikal steps out from around the workbench and strides forward, pausing just a few feet away from Din. Vikal’s armor and clothes are all black. It’s almost like looking into the void of space. He’s tall, too. Perhaps as tall or even surpassing Paz Vizsla in size.

“Yours?” asks Din, using the question to learn a little bit about the tribe’s practices.

“Mine,” confirms Vikal. But he doesn’t elaborate, and Din decides not to say anything more. “Have you just arrived?” inquires Vikal. “From Mandalore?”

“No,” answers Din. “I came from Nevarro.”

“That is far.”

Vikal closes the distance, his helmet moving with him as he clearly observers Din’s armor. It is not an objectifying look, but an appreciation. “You wear fine work.”

“The armorer of my tribe forged it for me. I am honored by it.”

“This is the Way,” states Vikal.

“This is the Way,” replies Din.

Vikal inclines his head and takes a step back. “You are our guest here. You shall have our hospitality before we speak on more serious matters. As warriors, we are always so quick to take action. Rest. Eat. We will proceed from there.” He turns to Crix. “See to it that Din Djarin has a private room and a hot meal.”

Crix nods, and he and Din depart.

In his private room, Din removes his helmet, and eats.

The food is hot. Fresh. So different from the plain rations he’s used to eating with his tribe. Din wants to know more about this one. He is curious to their ways. When Crix comes for him, the two return to the main communal area. The entire tribe is there, including all the younglings. It is then that he notices several Mandalorians clutching infants.

Din scans the crowd and his heart drops into his stomach.

R5 is here. The droid is on Vikal’s left side. On the armorer’s right, sitting on the floor near his boots, is Grogu. The foundling has a wooden bowl before him. He reaches in, and lifts a handful of something that Din doesn’t recognize and shoves it all into his mouth.

Din immediately aims for Grogu. Seeming to sense him, Grogu glances up and coos, his food covered hands reaching for Din.

“I assume this one is yours?” asks Vikal as Din lifts Grogu and holds the little womprat up to his face. Din checks him over but the foundling is fine. No signs of injury expect the food that’s smeared all over the child’s hands and face.

“Yes,” sighs Din. Crix holds out a hand, indicating he should take a seat. Din does so but he puts Grogu back on the floor. The foundling immediately crawls toward the bowl.

“Your foundling and the droid arrived not too long ago. Found us quite easily. Impressive for one so young.”

Din smiles softly behind the helmet.

Vikal rubs his knees and then stands, striding forward, stopping before the fire. The entire room quiets.

“Mando’ade! We welcome Din Djarin.” Vikal turns toward Din and extends his arm in Din’s direction. The Mandalorians in attendance beat their fists against their chests three times before dropping their arms. “He brings us an important message.”

Vikal retreats, stopping before Din. “Approach, vod. We will hear you.”

Din stands slowly. Grogu’s head tilts to the side, watching Din, his mouth full of food. Din walks to the center of the room just shy of the fire.

“I am Din Djarin. My tribe lives on Nevarro. I have come before you at the behest of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze. She is rallying the clans in an effort to return to and reclaim our ancestral home world of Mandalore. She sent me to ask you if you are willing to join our efforts.”

Din pauses and every single person in the room is watching him, saying nothing. He swallows, knowing that he’ll need to say more to convince them to join.

“I know that I am in no position to ask this of any of you. But we have lived in the dark for too long. Our people are scattered. Like stars in the galaxy. Perhaps it is time for us to live in the light once again. So that our culture may flourish and our children can feel what is it to play in the sunlight.”

The Mandalorians around him chatter softly, but Din cannot differentiate between their conversations. He turns toward Vikal, and the man stands. “Is Lady Kryze certain of success?” he asks, addressing Din. “Mandalorians are few, and our preservation is important. Can she guarantee that there will not be needless death?”

No.

Din sighs, his shoulders heaving slightly. “I cannot give you any such certainties.”

Another Mandalorian stands. It is a man, and his armor is a deep red. “That planet is cursed. The air is unbreathable and nothing grows. We have all heard the stories. Why should we go back to a dead planet?”

“This is not true,” says Din vehemently. “I have been to the surface. I have seen Mandalore with my own eyes. The air is breathable. Life is possible.”

The quiet chatter heightens. Becomes a dull roar.

“What is Lady Kryze’s plan for when the planet is retaken?” This time, a woman asks the question.

“Her goal is the Great Forge. That will be our place of operations and base for reconstruction.”

Din will tell them the truth. There is no reason to hide anything.

“But will we have a place there? Can we call Mandalore home? Or must we return to this planet?”

“All Mandalorians are welcome.”

Vikal nods and stands. “Does anyone else have questions for Din Djarin?” No one replies. “Thank you for relaying Lady Kryze’s message. You have given us much to consider.” Vikal addresses the room. “We will reflect on this, and then convene tomorrow evening for deeper discussion.”

The crowd of Mandalorians incline their heads and place their fists over their hearts. When their arms drop back to their sides, many start to get up and leave.

This isn’t the outcome Din was hoping for. He thought he might receive a quick answer, or even an indication that they are willing to join.

Crix comes up beside Din. “Decisions are never made quickly. You’ll likely be here a few days.”

“As long as I can return with an answer.”

“I’ll come for you tomorrow morning. The local population is holding a festival to celebrate the coming cold.”

Din thinks back to you and the women in that small dwelling. He didn’t exactly get a good look at what you were doing, but Din can only assume the two are connected.

Din tips is head to the side. “You mingle with them?”

“To an extent,” shrugs Crix. “They have no standing army or protection. We look after them, and they take care of us. It has kept our tribe safe for many years.”

Din nods and then bends at the knees to pick up Grogu, cradling the foundling close to his heart.

Crix fetches Din in the early hours of the morning. Grogu is left behind with the other younglings. Din is reluctant to do so, but Crix is persuasive, and Grogu is visibly happy to be amongst other children.

The two men head back through the tunnel, stepping out into the forest. The sun is starting to rise but it’s hard to see through the gray clouds. It snowed overnight, and there is a dusting across the forest floor.

Three Mandalorians mingle just outside the exit. Two men and one woman. They greet Crix with firm handshakes.

“This is Din Djarin,” says Crix. “He’s joining us on our visit into town.”

“Passionate speech you made last night. I’m Jido. Welcome.” Jido and Din clasp forearms and shake.

Jido steps back and points his thumb over his shoulder at the other two Mandalorians. “That’s Ran and Cerra.” Ran gives Din a half-hearted salute while Cerra lifts her hand in greeting. Jido leans in and whispers. “They’re a bit boring.”

“Heard that,” snaps Cerra as she turns her back on the group. “We going?”

The five of them head into the trees, walking in the direction that Din entered from. When they exit, Din heads for the N1, looking it over for any signs of tampering. It’s clean, and Din sighs with relief.

“The people here don’t touch things that aren’t theirs. Your ship will be fine,” states Crix as he walks up beside Din. He runs his gloved hand over the wing in appreciation.

“On Tatooine, I had a run in with some Jawas,” replies Din.

Crix snorts. “What was left of your ship?”

“Nothing.”

Jido, Ran, and Cerra’s jetpacks ignite. Crix and Din follow suit, the five of them launching into the air. Din trails behind, following the four Mandalorians as they jet across dreary farmland.

In minutes they approach the small settlement Din visited yesterday, landing right outside the wall. The people moving about don’t even seem to care that a group of Mandalorians landed amongst them. They keep going about their lives as if is this the norm. It’s the same reaction they had with Din.

Din is almost always the stranger. The unknown variable. In crowded places, he is avoided unless someone needs something from him.

He stays at the back of the pack. Jido, Ran, Crix, and Cerra all appear relaxed. They chat amongst themselves, and even stop for an old woman who presents a basket to them full of the red berries Din saw yesterday. Each Mandalorian takes a handful and deposits the goods into various pockets of their flightsuits.

The old woman approaches Din and holds the basket out to him. He doesn’t want to offend her. He scoops out a decent handful and finds a home for them. He’ll share it with Grogu when he returns.

The old woman inclines her head and moves on. Din’s helmet follows her but Crix taps against Din’s upper arm, drawing his attention away from the woman.

Din inhales, and he isn’t sure if the voice receiver in his helmet picks up the soft sound.

You’re standing right there, eyes bright and eager.

“You found them,” you say enthusiastically.

“I did.” Din is nervous. Why is he nervous? Do you do this to him?

Crix crosses his arms and pops a hip. “The two of you know each other?”

You laugh, and it’s the loveliest sound Din has ever heard. “He stumbled in to Tarra’s workshop while we were preparing the Daily Strands.”

“Make enough for us?” asks Jido, his voice a bit sultry. A bit teasing. Din instantly hates that he’s speaking to you that way.

“There are plenty. So, yes,” you tease back, smiling widely.

Crix shifts, turning his body toward Din. “Since you’re our guest, you don’t need to follow us around while we work.” Crix inclines his head in your direction. “She’ll show you around a bit.”

You look so hopeful that Din cannot say no.

He walks beside you the entire time as you go on about the important buildings, the history of the people, and the finer details of your culture. Din is enraptured by how animated you are toward him. He hardly risks asking any questions, mostly wanting to hear you talk.

“Here we are.” You extend your hand toward the building Din stumbled into yesterday.

“Are we going inside?” asks Din skeptically.

You grin and push back the curtain, gesturing for him to come inside. He follows, and this time there are only two other women in this space. They greet Din politely, but return to their work. You walk over to a large table. On it, are…necklaces? Din isn’t entirely sure what they are.

With caution, he approaches, you present one to him.

“These are Daily Strands. We wear them every day during the winter observance.” You point to the threads holding it together. “The threaded cord is the base, symbolizing the importance of community.” Next, you point to the flower petals. “These symbolize the eventual thaw and growth of new life.” Then the red berries. “These are native to the planet. We dry them out to represent the frozen ground.”

“And what do these symbolize?” asks Din, pointing to long, thin, green, stick-like leaves.

“Abundance. These are needles from local trees, and they grow everywhere.” You smile softly. “But it’s more of a wish for prosperity in the future.”

These are what Jido and Crix were referring to.

You gently lift the Daily Strand, presenting it to Din like an offering. “It’s customary to wear one of these.”

Din does not refuse. Instead, he lowers at the waist so that you can slide it over his helmet and around his neck.

You gently draw away and your hands fall to your skirts, your fingers fumbling with the fabric in nervousness. “It is also customary for the giver to kiss the cheeks of the receiver.” You shrug. “But I can make an exception given the circumstances.”

Din remembers how eager Jido was to receiving one of these. Briefly, Din imagines you kiss the sides of Jido and Crix’s helmets, and Din instantly simmers.

Not knowing how to ask, Din bends again, this time just enough that all you’ll need to do is to go up on your toes to place those gentle lips against his beskar.

“No exceptions,” he murmurs.

Your mouth forms a soft o, and then it cools, turning into tender satisfaction. Slowly, you kiss the curve of his helmet on the right side and then the left.

Even with the helmet on, Din still manages to catch a whiff of your scent. You smell like the trees and warm sugar. Without instruction, his hand brushes against your hip.

You do not draw away, and that pleases something deep within Din. When you pull back, Din instantly misses your heat.

“I will wear this every day,” says Din, his hand resting against it briefly.

You laugh, and Din doesn’t understand what you find so funny. “It’s a Daily Strand. You receive a new one each day.”

Every day? Does that mean you’ll kiss him every time you place a new one around his neck?

“Then I will be back tomorrow for a new one.”

“Promise?” you murmur.

“Promise.”

Part 2

taglist:

@padawancat97 @foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @garfunklevibes2012 @tiredmetalenthusiast @dameron-grant-spector @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @kayden666

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wandasfifthwife · 2 months

Text

Din Djarin | misunderstandings

Din Djarin x fem!reader

tw: pinning after each other, sorta confessions, misunderstandings, reader used to be mandalorian, reader gets a bit insecure, din is confused, mentions a past-gunshot wound, hurt/comfort, happy ending

a/n: idk if this fandom alive anymore but I still love this man sooo, enjoyment is wished upon whomever this lands upon. This is shit writing and I’m so sorry. I’ll re-read and edit later (if you read and enjoy this now… thank you for loving me at my lowest fr)

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

You’ve been on his ship now for almost a year, the months feeling like they were slowing down the further time went by. He originally treated you like a co, only asking what was needed, very obviously separating you from his personal life.

The ship had crashed some time ago, the both of you stranded on a desert planet for almost two months. Something had shifted, changed, and it got worse. The air felt thinner when he was close and your heart would pound.

You felt he cared to listen when you began to share small details about you like where you grew up, what scares you, how you got a scar on your forearm. You felt he began to change too.

“cyar’ika,” his tone is straightforward, “go to bed, you’re just straining your muscles now.”

It scared you when he began to use that instead of your name. You were too frightened to ask what it meant. The only tone he speaks in is monotone and he wears a helmet, it’s hard to read him. Everytime you think you begin to understand, you feel him slipping further away.

You hear a banging sound, one that happened because you drop the boxes from your grip.

“Was only trying to help,” you quip, stepping beside him to enter into the ship.

He shuts the door behind you, asking about the kid. You arrange the boxes so they’re out of the way, “he fell asleep minute after you left.”

He hums, the sound muffled slightly from his helmet. You stand near him to try and get the last package, though with the distance and your strength the box ends up falling to the ground and on your foot. You almost go still from the pain, chest growing tight as you tried to work through the pain. The mandalorian takes the box off of your foot as soon as it fell, a hiss sounding from him.

His body is tense when you try to walk, obvious pain showing on your face. He’s oblivious to how it cringes even more at the name. Sitting yourself down, you cradle your foot, tears coming to your eyes and you blink them away. The sight of tears startles him.

“Your injury, is it hurting that—?”

“No,” you cut him off, “I’ll be fine, I think it just bruised it.”

He offers you a hand, “ner sarad. Get off the floor.”

You swat it away and attempt to get up on your own. How stupid could you be? He’s only ever called you these names in an accusing manner. You had hope, but now that you’re looking back, you’ve lost it.

Last week he used it when you had gotten shot in the shoulder after chasing him for hours. About a month ago you remember him using his language in an angry manner when you argued.

A quiet sob escaped you, “why are you always getting angry at me?” You go limp when his hands come under you, lifting you so he can place you down on his bed. You’re stuck between wanting to push him away and pulling him closer to you. He works on removing your shoe and lifting your pant leg with a sigh.

“The words I’ve been using are terms of endearment,” he gently rubs his thumb over the already forming bruise, “cyar’ika means beloved.”

“I thought you were cursing my name out, using them as expressions of anger.”

“I started using them since you mentioned you were mandalorian once.”

He pats your thigh, getting off the ground to grab the medical supplies. You wince as he wraps your foot tightly, “I was, but we’ve never used those terms. We only called one another by our given name. I didn’t know those words existed.”

“And I’m a fool for assuming your clan was the same as mine.”

“Not a fool,” you smile at him, “you were trying to flirt and I interpreted it as sarcasm. I’m the fool.”

He stands, a hand coming to cup your cheek, “I can teach you, ner kar’ta.”

Your hand covers his, a shiver going through you at the warm feeling of his glove, “what is ner kar’ta?”

“My heart.”

#mando x reader #mando #the mandaloria/reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #hurt/comfort #reader is female #mando x fem!reader #din djarin x fem!reader

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inthe-dark-tonight · 7 months

Text

And All the Stars Align

chapter one: across the room, your silhouette

din djarin x princess!reader series

chapter two

summary: your mother seeks out the well known mandalorian, din djarin, to help your planet by fighting in a duel. what starts as a strong distaste for the armored man grows into something more.

word count: 1.7k

series rating: E (18+ mdni)

warnings: no use of y/n, slow burn, slight enemies to lovers, some helmetless din, no physical descriptions of reader other than clothing a few times, no mentions of age gap so read however you’d like, not really that many warnings yet :)

notes: this is the first thing i’ve ever written, i’ve just been really nervous to post it but here it is!!! i also was slightly inspired by padme and anakin’s relationship in episode 2 & 3 so you may see some similarities here and there. this will be multiple chapters, not sure how many yet but know that it will be quite a few lol. thank you to my loves @shatteredbaby & @javiscigarette for beta reading and brainstorming with me mwah. also @pr0ximamidnight for listening to me ramble about this fic and also encouraging me to keep writing ily

He’s sitting in the cantina on Nevarro minding his business, when he suddenly feels a presence behind him.

“Can I help you?” His deep voice booms through the modulator on his helmet. He doesn’t bother to turn around.

The man standing close behind him clears his throat before speaking. “I’m visiting from the planet Xeron. I was sent by the queen in search of a Mandalorian named Din Djarin.” He pauses, hesitating for a moment. “I was told he could be found here.”

Din turns around in his seat and props his elbow up to lean back on the counter nonchalantly. “You’ve found him.” He says in a flat tone. Although his face is covered with a beskar helmet, his voice is enough to make anyone intimidated. “You have one minute to explain what you’re here for.”

The advisor swallows hard and clears his throat. “I- uh,”

“Fifty-six seconds.” the Mandalorian says, his voice coming out deep and monotone.

“Our planet, Xeron, is having a quarrel of sorts with our sister planet, Arkam, and we need help. We need your help.” He hesitated for a quick moment, a bit flustered. “Word around the inner rim is that you’re a great fighter, you’ve taken down a mudhorn, a kryat dragon, the list goes on and on. We’re desperately in need of someone to fight. Someone who will win.”

“What’s in it for me?”

A week later the Mandalorian is on his way to Xeron. Your mother, the queen, insisted that he come a week early to settle in before the duel. She had said we should lend him our hospitality for what he’s agreed to do for our planet, so there’s going to be a welcome dinner hosted tonight when he arrives.

You’re currently in your room getting ready to leave when there’s a knock on your door. “Come in.” The door opens a crack and you see Jem poke her head in.

Jem is your closest friend, though she’s more of an assistant of sorts. You don’t like to think of her that way, she’s just your friend that also happens to keep watch over you and help you out with anything you might need.

“Are you almost ready? Your mother is already in the grand hall awaiting your arrival.” She raises her brow at you, knowing that you always tend to be late.

“Yes just- give me a second. I’ll be right out.” You smile before she shuts the door behind her.

You turn towards your mirror and take a deep breath. Why are you so nervous? It’s not like you haven’t attended banquets for visitors in the past. You run your gloved hands over your floor length dress and take one last look in the mirror before turning to leave.

When you open the door Jem is waiting there for you, also wearing a long elegant dress for the occasion. She turns to walk down the hall and you quickly follow.

“Are you curious to see what he’s like?” She asks as you make your way towards the grand hall.

You look at her slightly confused “….who?”

She blinks at you, waiting for you to say something else. “The Mandalorian, you know, the one your mother hired to fight in the duel?” She gives you an odd look before the two of you step into the elevator. “I’ve heard he’s quiet, a little mysterious. I guess we’ll see for ourselves.” A smirk grows on her face as she says the words.

When the elevator doors open again, you quickly round the corner to see that the doors to the great hall are wide open and the room is flooded with people. Some are gathered standing in large groups, others are sitting at the large tables spread around the room. You look around the room and see your mother through the crowd, sitting in her usual spot. You walk towards her smiling here and there at guests as you pass by.

“You’re here! We can get started finally.” She gestures something to one of the royal guards, seconds later you hear a loud noise signaling that dinner will be served shortly. In the next couple of minutes everyone is finally seated, Jem sitting next to you. You glance around noticing that someone’s missing, the guest of honor. Great first impression, you think to yourself. If he can’t even arrive on time, how’s he going to win this fight?

You can see your mother glancing around the room frantically. “Where is he?” She mumbles to herself. The guests are chatting at a low volume, probably wondering what’s going on as well.

All of a sudden one of the doors to the royal hall opens, everyone’s head snaps towards that direction to get a look. As you look around the room, everyone’s quiet and still. It’s like the world has stopped. You hear heavy steps growing closer and what sounds like something clanking. Finally you look towards the door and your eyes land on him. The Mandalorian.

He’s covered head to toe in beskar armor, and the visor on his helmet creates a t shape. There’s a sway in his step, he walks with confidence and you can feel the air in the room has changed just from his presence. Your mother stands from her chair as he gets closer, and everyone else in the room follows. You’re so mesmerized by him and the confidence in each step he takes that you end up being the last to stand, eyes never leaving his captivating form. When he gets to you and your mother he bows his head, leaving your mother ecstatic.

“Ladies and gentlemen, our guest of honor, Din Djarin.” She gestures towards him. “The Mandalorian.” the room applauds.

He nods and takes a seat next to your mother, everyone following her lead to sit. Your mother looks at one of the royal guards and droids start coming from the kitchen with plates full of food, placing them at every table.

Your mother turns her head to Din “Thank you so much for being here tonight, I’m glad you could make it a week early. We want to show our thanks, and how greatly appreciative we are.” she smiles at him.

Din turns his head towards her and nods. “Thank you for your hospitality.” His voice is deep coming through his modulator, it sends a chill down your spine. You’re still staring at him when your mother starts to speak.

“This is my daughter.” Your mother fully sits back in her chair so he can look past her and see you properly.

He turns his head towards you. “Princess.” He nods his head again. What Jem heard is true. He really doesn’t say much, but you feel squeamish under his gaze.

“We really are more grateful than you could ever imagine.” Your mother smiles again. “Please! Help yourself!” Your mother gestures to the table full of food.

Jem nudges your shoulder and you turn to her, finally breaking your gaze away from Din. She’s smirking “I told you” she whispers before reaching to fill her plate.

You’re trying not to stare at this point, just looking out the corner of your eye. You pile a few things onto your plate and before you can take a bite you see his hand lift up to his helmet. You hear a hissing sound as he lifts it off his head.

You snap your head to look over at him and you’re absolutely stunned, almost breathless as his profile comes into view. The strong outline of his nose and plush pink lips immediately catch your attention. You don’t think you’ve ever laid your eyes on someone as beautiful as him. Still taking in his features, your mouth slightly opens in awe. His large brown eyes, the crease between his brows, the way his curls fall perfectly over his forehead even after having a helmet on.

He turns his head towards you, almost like he could feel your gaze. A blush creeps onto your cheeks as you quickly turn back to look at your plate in embarrassment. You can still feel his gaze burning through you, your body starting to heat up. Through the corner of your eye you can see him staring now, you lift your head and turn to look at him again. This time he turns away, quickly glancing back at you for only a split second before focusing on his plate. It’s almost… shy. Cute, you think.

“I didn’t know Mandalorians could remove their helmets?” Your mother asks him.

Din clears his throat as he glances at your mother. “The rules aren’t… as strict as they once were.” He states.

His voice sounds even more heavenly without being filtered through the modulator. It makes your skin tingle.

The rest of the dinner you don’t dare to look at him. Your mother dismisses everyone and people get up to gather and chat again. Everyone wants to speak to Din, he’s never not crowded by guests. He put his helmet back on at this point after dinner.

Jem pops up beside you. “Wow, I knew he’d be popular tonight, being the guest of honor and all but… he really can’t catch a break”

“Yeah.” you’re trying to seem nonchalant as you stare him down from across the room.

“Have you gotten a chance to speak with him?” She looks over at you.

“No!” Your head snaps towards her and Jem’s brow raises at your tone. “I mean, no. He’s been occupied basically all night.” You’re looking back towards where he stands.

“What’s there for me to say anyway?” You glance over at her “Am I supposed to thank him? However much my mother’s paying him won’t be worth anything if he doesn’t make it out.” You look back out into the crowd of people and you’re unable to spot him.

“Yeah, I guess.” She pauses for a moment. “Well I need to go find your mother, I told her I’d help her with something. See you later?”

You nod and watch her disappear into the pool of people laughing and talking loudly.

You hear someone say your name in a deep voice from behind you.

“Princess.”

thank you for reading lmk what you think & my asks are open to chat :) xo

np tagging some moots: @ilovepedro @isitmeulookin4 @joelsversion @nostalxgic @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @jenispunk @beskarandblasters @javiscigarette @gracieheartspedro @cannolighost @eliza-8 @hearteyesforjoel @tieronecrush @daydreamingmiller @pamasaur

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x fem!reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x princess!reader #din darjin #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #star wars fanfiction

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beskarandblasters · 5 months

Text

Good Girls Are Quiet

aka riding the hilt of Din’s vibro-blade like there’s no tomorrow

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: I just want to preface this by saying this is filthy. That is all.

Summary: At the Outlander Club on Coruscant, you try to help Din capture a bounty. But when the bounty makes a move what on belongs to Din, that just won’t do. Din takes you a sleazy motel after and shows you just who you belong to.

Word count: 2.1k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), takes place when Din is an apostate, bounty gets handsy with you, possessive!Din, light canon typical violence, brat taming, reader gets “punished”, rough oral sex (M receiving), slapping, cum eating, nipple play, knife kink, riding the hilt of Din’s vibro-blade, daddy kink, helmet comes off, spitting, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, use of Mando’a words (cyar’ika = sweetheart), pet names (good girl), no use of y/n

The loud music in the Outlander Club vibrates your entire body, and the smoke hanging in the air fills your lungs. Kriff, this sucks. But it was your idea to help Din distract this bounty. You’re wearing a scantily clad dress, moving through the crowd, and scanning the room for your target; a human male named Colo. You took a good look at his bounty poster before heading inside the club but you’re still going to have to be vigilant. This place is packed and he could easily slip away without you or Din noticing.

Din’s hanging out off towards the wall to not draw too much attention to himself. He tends to do that everywhere he goes so that’s why you offered to help. And just as your eyes land on the bar, you spot Colo, sitting alone and sipping on revnog.

Now you can set your plan into motion. It’s time to flirt.

You walk up beside him, resting an elbow on the bar and looking around with wide eyes like you’re lost or something. He notices you out of the corner of his eye and turns towards you.

“You come here often?” he asks, mouth curling into a smirk.

“No,” you say, making your voice a higher pitch, “What about you?”

“I’m a regular, baby. How about I buy you a drink and show you what’s good?

“I think I have an idea about what’s good here,” you wink, internally cringing at yourself.

Maker, please be over soon.

“Oh, really?” he says, picking up what you’re unfortunately putting down.

He leans forward and rests his hand on your hip, slowly inching towards your ass and squeezing it.

“How about you tell me what that is?”

You open your mouth to respond but before you can, Colo is against the bar with Din pressing his vibro-blade against his neck. It all happened in a blur. The second the hand cupped your ass Din was on the move.

“Hands off,” he growls.

But before the fight progresses any further the bartender shouts, “Take that outside! Now!”

You’re frozen, unsure of what to do next until Din grabs your hand and physically drags you out of there. You still can’t grasp how fast all of that happened, keeping your eyes averted to the floor to avoid the stares of the club-goers before stepping outside.

And now here you are, silently walking the streets of the lower levels. You know Din is fuming underneath his helmet but… What does he have to be mad at you for? You were just trying to help.

“Din?” you say softly, looking up at him. The neon lights reflect off his armor and you can’t deny he looks sexy right now, especially when he’s mad. You looove to get under his skin even more. You know he likes it when you act like a brat. He can deny it all he wants but you know it’s true.

He doesn’t answer you so you continue.

“I don’t get why you’re mad. I was just trying to help,” you say matter-of-factly, folding your arms and pushing your breasts together. They threaten to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress. And that’s when he can’t take it anymore. He grabs your hand again and drags you down the street, but he’s going in the opposite direction of the docking yard where the Razor Crest is parked.

“Where are we going?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder at the direction you should be going.

“To teach you a lesson,” he growls, stopping at what looks like a motel, a sleazy one at that. The neon sign is broken, only a few letters lit and one of them flickering. You can’t even read what it says. He pulls you by the hand inside, and the interior is even more abysmal than the exterior. Seedy characters lurk in the shadows of the lobby, staring at you and Din while he drags you to the front desk. You’re so stunned by his actions. Din never does stuff like this. He prefers to sleep in the comfort of the Crest where he’s in control of his surroundings. Not left at the mercy of whatever goes on at night in this sleazy motel.

You don’t question it when he gets a room for tonight, anxious to see where the night takes you.

“Room one hundred and three. Down the hallway on your right.”

He takes the room key from the front desk worker and heads down the hallway, the lights flickering above you. He stops at a door, unlocks it, and shoves you inside. As soon as the door is closed he presses you up against it, bringing his helmet by your ear.

“Do you know why you need to be punished?” he growls, a hand sliding up your waist.

“...No.”

“Really?” he says with a low chuckle, “Maybe I need to help you remember.”

He grabs you by the waist and drags you over to the bed, setting you down on the edge. He stands in front of you, the bulge in his flight suit directly in your face. He grabs your chin, angles your face up towards his visor, and says, “Now, cyar’ika. Tell me why you’re getting punished.”

You try to look at the bulge that’s so close to your face by moving your head slightly. But he grips your chin tighter and teases you, “Nope. Eyes up here, slut.”

“For… for flirting with that guy at the club.”

“That’s right. I think you need to be reminded about who you belong to.”

You gulp and the hand not holding your chin pulls his cock free from his flight suit.

“Be a good girl and suck my cock,” he says, pulling you towards his groin. You open your mouth wide and keep your tongue flat, taking his length in your mouth. He thrusts back into you, forcing his cock down your through as far as it’ll go. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes but you keep going, trying your best to be a good girl for him. His hands move to either side of your face as you bob your head up and down.

You look up at him and his visor is fixed on you, watching his cock moving in and out of your mouth.

“You like sucking daddy’s cock?” he says, slapping you across the face.

You moan in response, sending vibrations down his length. He curses under his breath and slams into you harder. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore he cums down the back of your throat, holding your head flush against his groin.

“Take all of daddy’s cum like a good girl,” he commands, wiping away a tear on your cheek.

He finally releases your head and you catch your breath. Wiping away the cum leaking from your lips you ask, “My turn?”

“Not quite,” he teases, reaching forward and pulling the comforter off the bed. You watch as he grabs his vibro-blade from his boot, activating it and plunging it through the mattress. You let out a gasp, in shock that he just ruined this motel’s mattress.

“Din, what did you-”

“You can sit on that,” he says sternly.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You look at the blade vibrating inside the mattress and gulp before stripping your clothes and getting on the bed. You straddle the hilt of the vibro-blade, hovering over it. He moves behind you, reaching forward and cupping his hand under your mouth.

“Spit,” he commands.

You do as you’re told, spitting into the palm of the glove. He rubs your saliva on the hilt, lubricating it for you to sit on. You take a deep breath and lower yourself on it, feeling the vibrations throughout your core.

“Fuck yourself on it,” he says, hand returning to your chin.

You rock your hips back and forth, just as Din’s other hand caresses the outline of your breast. He pinches your nipple between his fingertips eliciting a loud moan from you. The hand on your chin clamps down on your mouth.

“Good girls are quiet,” he reminds you.

You nod and let out a soft whimper, continue to fuck yourself on the hilt.

“You have to cum on this first. Show me you’re worthy of daddy’s cock,” he continues, growling directly in your ear. He releases your mouth to take off his helmet and set it on the bed. He grabs your chin and angles your head up to face him. You catch a glimpse of him, his curls matted and his skin glistening with a layer of sweat. There’s a truly dark and primal look in his eye, watching as you writhe against him.

“Open,” he commands.

You open wide and stick your tongue out, just as he spits directly into your mouth. Just for him to clamp it shut again and return his hand over it, making you stay quiet.

With one last grind of your hips, the hilt is buried even deeper into you, and you can’t hold on any longer. You whimper against his gloved hand, trying to signal you’re gonna cum soon. You’re worried that if you don’t ask for permission somehow he’ll deny you your release.

“Gonna cum?” he says, amusement in his voice.

You whimper some more and nod incessantly.

“Soak it.”

You cum around the hilt, your walls fluttering around the vibrating metal. You feel your wetness seep out of you, running down your thighs and onto the sheets.

“That’s a good girl,” he praises, slowly releasing your nipple from his fingertips. He removes his hand from your mouth and pushes you forward so you’re on your hands and knees. The hilt slips out of you as you stick your ass up in the air for him, getting ready to take his cock.

Din hooks his hands on your hips, aligning himself with your soaking wet cunt. He thrusts into you in one clean motion, cursing under his breath before pounding into you unforgivingly.

“Who do you belong to?”

“You,” you moan out.

“Who?”

“I belong to you, daddy!” you cry out.

“Good girl, that’s right. Daddy owns this cunt, huh?”

“Yes, daddy. It’s all yours!” you cry out again, just as he slams into you with the most force he’s used so far. You cum around his cock, pulling his own orgasm from him. He cums inside you with his cock pressed right up against your cervix, letting out a guttural moan. He pulls out of you when he’s done and you fall forward, collapsing onto the bed. The vibro-blade is still impaled in the mattress. He pulls it out and deactivates it, leaning forward and hovering over you.

“Do you understand why you were punished now?”

“Yes, daddy,” you sigh.

“You had a big night, mesh’la. Get some rest,” he says softly, lying down beside you and rubbing your back.

Just before sleep overtakes you, you whisper, “I don’t know… Maybe I need to act up again.”

“Oh there’s no maybe,” he chuckles, “You’ll act up again. But that just means I have to keep reminding you that you’re mine.”

“Sounds good to me,” you whisper, drifting off to sleep under Din’s touch.

You wake up the next morning and get ready to check out of the motel room, weirdly missing it already. But just as you turn to leave the building, one of the housekeeping employees stops Din.

“Sir?”

Oh, this is definitely about the mattress.

You both turn around to face the worker, an older woman who seems nice enough. She continues, “I don’t want to know how exactly the mattress was damaged. But we can’t let you leave until you pay a fee.”

“Okay…” Din says awkwardly.

She leads you to the front desk and lets the employee stationed there handle the transaction. The woman whispers something in the other employee’s ear. You can only catch bits and pieces of what she said but definitely something about a weird stain on the mattress by the puncture mark. You look over at Din, who's staring directly at you. You’re sure he’s shooting daggers with his eyes under the helmet. Yeah, you’re definitely not coming back here again.

The woman sets off down the hallway to finish cleaning the mess you and Din made, just as the front desk employee says, “That’ll be six hundred credits.”

Six hundred credits.

Din grabs credits from his pocket and hastily sets them on the counter before grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the motel.

As soon as you’re back out on the street he says, “See what happens when you act up?”

“You’re the one who stabbed the bed,” you say, folding your arms.

“You're going to end up costing me a fortune,” he sighs.

“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” you tease.

He doesn’t deny it, of course.

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forever-rogue · 11 months

Note

Hey! Can I get a Din x reader where a droid goes rogue and attacks and hurts the reader and obviously as we all know Din HATES droids and this just triple enforces that? ANGST. Droids are genuinely so terrifying and I feel this would be a good plot.

AN | Please, this was such a good concept! Enjoy🥰

Warnings | Nondescript mention of injury

Pairing | Din x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.8k

Masterlist | Din, Main

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Din,” you caught up to him and reached for his hand, giving it an excited little squeeze, “I’ve found something exciting!”

“Slow down, cyar’ika,” you could hear the amusement in his voice as he kept you upright as you almost tripped over your own feet, “don’t need you hurting yourself.”

“Sorry,” you grinned at him, cheeks warming up as you slowed down and fell into step with him and Grogu, “I got excited - obviously.”

“Don’t be sorry,” he squeezed your hand in return as Grogu babbled happily, “just be careful - now tell me what’s so exciting?”

“I was just talking a walk around and I came across this little store,” you waved your around as you often had a tendency to do, much to your husband’s amusement, “kind of an out of the way place - don’t worry it wasn’t that bad - and they sell droids there! All kinds of different-”

“Droids,” he echoed as you offered him a sheepish smile. He’d had a long and complicated relationship with droids and you were pretty sure he was on a downward trend with them at the moment. You stepped in front of him and started walking backwards so you could grab both of his hands and look at him with a saccharine smile, “you are….what is so exciting about these things?”

“They’re all rescued and reprogrammed,” you insisted but you knew there was still a frown under the helmet, “so they’re clean slates. And they have protocol droids and gonk droids and R2 units!”

“Mhmm…go on,” he insisted softly, wondering where this was going, “tell me more.”

“I just…I’ve always loved the old R2 units,” you prefaced, waiting for his little telltale sigh, “and I think it could be helpful to have one around…you know for when we’re busy with stuff. Or I could have some company if you’re gone and I can’t come.”

“Busy,” he echoed as you nodded, hoping you were doing enough to sell him on the idea, “I don’t know…there’s no real need is there?”

“Oh Din, we could use it for lots of things!” your eyes grew wide with excitement and your smile was beaming, “and it could be fun. Plus, it’d be a rescue little droid….you do have a tendency for liking rescues after all.”

You and Grogu exchanged a look before you turned back to him. He’d found and helped nurse you back to health and ended up taking you under his wing, just as he had Grogu. Din knew you had a point and looked between the two of you, hands on his hips and finally letting out his little sigh, “okay-”

“Yay!”

“Okay, we can take a look and then go from there,” he finished and you practically jumped into his arms in excitement. You wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug as best as you could with all of his armor on, “alright, alright - don’t get too excited. No promises are being made here.”

“I know,” you promised, but deep down you knew that Din hardly ever said no to you. You pressed your forehead against the cool beskar of his helmet, “I love you.”

“I know cyar’ika,” he touched your cheek, “I love you too.”

Grogu babbled happily at both of you.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Look at him,” your hands were clenched at your sides in excitement as you tried to appear as calm as possible. You were pretty sure (dramatic as Din would insist) that you were about to combust from the cuteness, “isn’t he the cutest thing in the world?!”

Grogu tugged on the leg of your pants and gurgled at you with a concerned little look on his face. You reached down and scooped him into your arms, placing a gentle kiss on his head. He relaxed into your touch as you grinned at him. Din, meanwhile, was much less impressed, looking down at the R2 unit in front of him with disdain.

He was an older unit, a remnant from the era of the Clone Wars, but was reset and given a second chance at life. He was more on the square side, but a pretty silver and dark pink color. In your eyes he was perfect - to Din he was a menace.

“Are you sure?” he turned towards and when he saw the big smile on your face, he already knew that this droid was the newest member of your family. You looked at him and nodded shyly, “you’re sure.”

“Please Din?” you were absolutely willing to use Grogu as a manipulation tool if needed, “I won’t ever ask for anything again. He’ll be so useful to help around the house and everything!”

“I don’t know about that,” you could detect the disdain in his voice, but you appreciated the fact that he was willing to make this sacrifice and be more open-minded, “but if it’ll make you happy, it’s worth it.”

“You won’t regret this,” you kissed the spot where his cheek would be, the smile on your face switched from ear to ear, “I promise.”

“Hmmm,” he mused softly, tracing his fingers along your jaw, “let’s get him home then and we can see what he can do."

"Thank you," your eyes grew soft as you looked up at him, "for always being so wonderful. You truly are the best."

"Nothing to thank me for," he promised, his own features growing soft under the helmet. If it hadn't been for the armor, he might have melted into a puddle. You were his weakness and he'd do whatever you asked of him, he'd do whatever you wanted in order to put a smile on your face. You and Grogu were the beat of his heart and the blood that rushed through his veins - essential. There was no life or reality which he could imagine that the two of you weren't in.

"I know," you whispered, "but still - thank you. I love you so terribly much."

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Your new droid friend, named R-4Z and affectionately nicknamed Arezy, fit right into the home you'd built along with Din and Grogu. He helped around with chores both outside and inside and often liked to play with Grogu. More than anything he was good company when you were left alone.

Left alone was a dramatic way of putting it - there were times when you couldn't accompany Din and Grogu due to either working at your little apothecary or Din asking to remain behind. It used to make your skin prickle with hurt and annoyance but you knew that it was only because he wanted you safe. Nowadays it was more endearing than anything else. Unlike your boys, you didn't possess any tactical training and weren't force sensitive. But you were the brains of the operation as Din so sweetly put it.

This particular weekend found you and Arezy by yourselves. You'd decided to give your little shop a revamp since you had the time and the season was changing. You were puttering around, giving your companion directions for a few things as you did the other tasks.

You were enjoying your conversation with your friend but after a bit you noticed that you were basically speaking to yourself.

"Arezy?" you asked softly as you walked out of the small back room and towards the front. Nothing seemed amiss at first but then you heard some angry beeping, "what's wrong, buddy?"

The answer you were treated came into the form of a sharp shock in your side, the jab making you yelp in surprise and pain. You turned around to find the droid behind you, its arm out and pointed towards you. He started coming closer and beeping angrily - it was completely different from anything you’d seen before.

“What are you doing?” you grew worried as you ducked out of his way, trying to put some distance between the two of you, “what’s wrong?”

Apparently he didn’t want to talk because he kept trying to come after you. If you weren’t worried about actually getting hurt, you might have laughed; it was probably hilarious to watch this droid rolling after you. But he wasn’t one to be underestimated either, he could deal damage if he wanted to.

Which you found out the hard way when he set out some tripwire and you…managed to trip right over it. You landed on the hard concrete with a loud oof, and untangled the wire from between your legs, trying to ignore the fact that you’d managed to scrape your knee and it was now bleeding.

Your hands were shaking but you finally managed to break free, but not before he managed to come up and give you a few more shocks. They didn’t seem like much, but they did hit deep and shook you up.

Luckily it didn’t last very long - Arezy shut down as quickly as he had turned on.

“Kriff,” you scrambled to your feet, stepping back just in case. You looked up and found Din standing there with Grogu at his side; you didn’t need to see his face to know there was a giant scowl on it.

“What happened?” he came over and took your face in his hands, looking to make sure there wasn’t too much damage. Your lip trembled with effort not to cry; you weren’t terribly hurt but you were more shaken up than anything else. You just hadn’t seen this coming. You heard him make a small sound in the back of his throat as you he took in your knee and the bruising that was already welling up on your arms, “cyar’ika…”

"I'm okay," you let out a shaky breath as you blinked back your tears, "I-I don't know what happened. He was just fine and then all of a sudden he just started attacking me. I didn't do anything and nothing happened."

He gently took your chin in his hand and turned your face up to his. Despite your best efforts, a few tears slipped down your cheeks and Din didn't hesitate to tenderly wipe them away, "droids."

"It's not," you didn't want this to further taint his view of droids, "it just happened. It was just an accident. These things just happen sometimes."

"The bad things always come from droids," he huffed as you sadly looked at Arezy, “what if…I hadn’t gotten here in time?”

“But you did,” you whispered softly, “that’s all that matters, Din. It was just…a malfunction. It’s an old droid, and I’m sure he can be repaired-”

“No.”

“Din-”

“I said no,” he said sharply, causing you to recoil slightly. He’d almost never snapped at you or spoken to you in any sort of harsh manner. Grogu had siddled up to you and hugged your leg, trying to convey the love he carried, “we’re going home.”

“Okay,” you weren’t about to argue with him when he was worried out of his mind. You knew your Mandalorian better than that. You knew that he’d come around - his heart was way bigger than he’d ever let or believed it was.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Din had been mostly silent on the way home. WHen you stepped inside, there was a bit of tension in the air. You wished it wasn’t there, but you knew that it wouldn’t last. Things might have been bad in the moment but they wouldn’t last; the good always far outweighed the bad. You weren’t going to push him - you wanted him to come to his own conclusions.

“C’mon,” he picked you up without hesitation, causing you to make a small sound of surprise as he walked you into the fresher. You felt like you were weightless in his strong embrace.

He set you down and moved to slowly pull off your pants, after looking for permission. You sat on the edge of the tub and watched as he pulled off his helmet in order to properly study your knee. It wasn’t the worst, but it certainly looked bad.

He pulled out the first-aid kit from under the bathroom sink, and took out what he needed. You watched as he moved with care to patch up the wound, making sure it was all clean and disinfected before bandaging it up. He trailed his fingers along your arms, taking in each mark. You could see the worry and upset in those pretty brown eyes.

“Din,” you whispered his name, capturing back his attention as you put your hand on his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek, “look at me please.”

After a moment of hesitation his eyes met yours and you offered him a small smile. He swallowed thickly, “I don’t want anything to happen to you. Ever.”

“I know,” you could feel him gently leaning into your cheek, “I know you don’t, my love. I don’t ever want anything to happen to you either. I’ll keep you safe, just like you always keep me safe.”

“I couldn’t today-”

“What happened today was a fluke,” you insisted softly, “it could have happened to anyone. If it hadn’t happened to me, it would have happened to whoever else got him. That’s just it, that’s life. But the thing is, Din, you did rescue me.”

“You’re so forgiving,” he took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “you always see the bright side.”

“I think it’s not too bad of a way to live,” you laughed softly, and Din couldn’t help but smile. He swore the sound of your voice was the best thing in the world, “it’s how I got you to let me, isn’t it? Look where we are now.”

He chuckled softly, shaking his head fondly at you, “I guess you’re not wrong, cyar’ika.”

“I’m not,” you insisted, “will you promise me something?”

“Anything.”

“Don’t let this one moment, this one thing ruin your perception of all droids,” you insisted and you could hear his little huff, “please? I promise this won’t ever happen again.”

“I’ll try,” he promised and you could feel that he was being honest with you, “for you, I’ll try.”

“You’re a good man, Din Djarin,” you leaned in and kissed him softly, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Almost a month had passed since the incident and neither of you had brought it up again. You figured it was better to let things happen as they did.

But then Din managed to surprise you once again.

“Din?” you made it back from the market with Grogu at your feet, both of you carrying some food. He hadn’t come with you, insisting that he had a few things to do at home. You let yourself in and the two of you made it to the kitchen. But something was different, something was off.

You heard a few small beeps that caused you to turn on your heel to find the source of the noise. In the opposite doorway you found Din along with-”

“Arezy!” you almost dropped the goods in your arms, but Grogu was faster and kept everything from falling. You ran over to the droid and dropped your knees in order to give him a hug. He beeped merrily at you, “you’re back! Oh, I’ve missed you. I hope you’re feeling all better.”

“He is,” Din smiled softly, “I took him to Anzellans and they were able to fix him right up. There was some sort of issue with the motherboard, but it’s been fixed.”

“You did this,” you took up and hugged him. He chuckled softly before wrapping his arms tightly around, “you sweet, wonderful man. I can’t believe it…how? Why?”

“Accidents happen,” he echoed your words from earlier, “but that doesn’t mean they have to cloud our opinions of everything else. I listen sometimes, cyar’ika. I figured that if you decided that you can forgive him and move past what happened, I can do the same.”

“You’re a wise man,” you kissed his cheek, “listening to your riduur. Thank you for this. You’re…the best.”

“That is you,” he promised and Grogu cooed happily from where he was climbing onto Arezy, “I’m glad you’re happy, cyar’ika.”

“I am,” you grinned, “and I am very much in love with you too. You are everything, Din.”

“You,” he grinned as he took your face and pressed kisses all over it, “are everything. I love you.”

“I love you, Din Djarin.”

#din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x fem!reader #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #star wars #din djarin one shot #din djarin imagine

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drawingdroid · 3 months

Text

The Unknown Regions Masterlist

A Din Djarin X Plus Size Reader Series

Summary: You, a soft astrophysicist, meet the hardened Mandalorian in less-than-ideal circumstances. Your abilities will lead to you crossing the galaxy together in search of his green son.

Words: 10k+

Warnings: Smut on Chapters IV and VI; expect conversations about weight; body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; the bucket stays on; naked female clothed male; fluff and smut; hurt and comfort; Sad Din :(

A/N: The last chapter of The Unknown Regions is finally in the oven so I prepared this little moodboard and finally made a Masterlist to celebrate. I hope you enjoy the series, I may write more about these two!

Read it on ao3

🪐 Chapter I: A long day

🪐 Chapter II: Bike ride

🪐 Chapter III: An expert

🪐 Chapter IV: Is it a bomb?

🪐 Chapter V: As you wish

🪐 Chapter VI:

🪐 Chapter VII:

#droidwrites #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x plus size!reader #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin smut #pedro pascal smut

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imaginedisish · 1 year

Text

Home (Din Djarin x fem!Reader)

A/N: Hey everybody! Here is a new Din Djarin fic! I don’t know if I’ve done this trope already...there’s a good chance I did. I had a version of this fic in my WIPs for a while, and I don’t think it ever made it out of the doc, so here it is. I hope you guys like it! It’s heavily based on “Home” by LCD Soundsystem.

Summary: Din learns the truth about your past...

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ fingering, unprotected PIV (wrap it up), praise kink for sure, hurt to comfort, friends/idiots to lovers, Jedi!reader (implied conflict/is training Grogu), implied kidnapping (Inquisitors kidnap reader as child), cursing, Crest still exists because I’m lazy, probably grammar mistakes because again, I’m lazy.

Word Count: 3,661

Your lungs burn painfully as you sprint through the forest, dodging trees, maneuvering through the thicket. You swear Grogu is giggling in his little carrier strapped carefully onto your chest. “This is not funny, little guy,” You mumble in between breaths. Grogu babbles and giggles some more in response.

This was not how this training session with Grogu was supposed to go.

BANG! You flinch a bit to the left as a blaster shot whirls by, smashing violently into a tree, leaving a burning gaping hole in its wake. You make a sharp turn to avoid the tree as it crashes down in front of you. The dark troopers were closing in on you and Grogu; you could feel it. It was only a matter of time until they circled around you, blasters pressing at your back.

Another. BANG! The tree to your right comes crashing down a few feet away. You turn around for just a split second, searching for Din, for something, for a way out. They were gaining on you, you could see them coming from over the hill.

You press a button on your comlink. “Hey Mando?” You practically shout into it. “Things are getting a little messy over here.” Your words are panicked, jumbled.

“I’m almost there,” He reassures. “What’s going on?”

“Well, they’re-,” BANG! That answers his question.

“Just hold on, okay?” You can hear the fear in his voice; it wasn’t something you were used to. Din was normally confident, but this time there was a sense of insecurity, as if this time was going to end differently than all the others. As if he was afraid you weren’t going to make it.

You take a deep breath and navigate away from the now burning, fallen over trees. You turn around; the troopers were even closer than they were before. You swear there weren’t this many a few minutes ago. You turn to the left, trying to find another way out, but it’s too late. You were surrounded. You weren’t fast enough. Maybe this was the end.

“I am not getting killed by a bunch of droids,” You huff, raising your hands above your head. But the troopers don’t stop, they continue to creep closer towards you and Grogu, raising their blasters, readying to shoot, aiming to kill. “We are not going down like this kid,” You whisper, Grogu’s ears picking up as the words slip from your tongue.

The troopers finally stop, their metal joints freezing in place. Their blasters are still pointed towards you and Grogu. You swallow harshly, staring at your reflection in the metallic armor of the dark trooper directly in front of you. You watch closely as their robotic fingers hover over the trigger. You had one shot, one chance to get this right. You shut your eyes, waiting for it.

All at once. CLICK. BANG.

Your hands extend out. You can feel the energy pulsing through you. It’s controlled and stable. You slowly open your eyes, and hovering in the air are at least twenty violently shivering blaster rays, threatening to finish the job if you let go. You can feel the rays dancing under your fingertips, struggling against your grasp. You shut your eyes again, the tension of each one growing. You couldn’t hold this forever.

A new feeling abruptly shocks your system. It’s a certain power you haven’t felt in years. It rattles your bones, sending shockwaves throughout every inch of your body. There’s something delicious about it, tempting even. It’s powerful, yet intrusive, quickly invading your senses and taking over. You allow it to course through you fully. You can almost hear something calling out to you. Let go.

And so you do.

With a swift motion, you release the energy building up inside of you. It’s a radical feeling, but still somehow familiar. The shocks flow through the palms of your hands and out of your fingers. There’s a slight sting. It’s almost painful. And that’s when you remember exactly what this feeling is. Your eyes open wide, and you watch as electricity, and the blaster rays, shoot out towards the dark troopers, decimating them immediately.

Fire consumes the trees around you, embers quickly filling the air. You’re not sure if the electricity you just shot out of your hands caused this, or the blaster shots, or the dark troopers themselves. Most likely, it was some sort of messy combination of all three, which meant that you were in part to blame.

“Cyare?”

And Din saw the whole thing.

He’s standing just a few feet away from you. You can see the flames and carnage reflecting against his armor, and in the center of it all is you. This wasn’t a side of yourself that you wanted him to see, or even know about in the first place.

But it was too late for that now. “Din, I can expl-,”

He cuts you off, curt, emotionless. “We need to go.” You nod, taking slow strides towards the ramp of the Crest. You pass Din along the way. You want him to say something, to look at you, to move at the very least. But he doesn’t. He’s motionless, frozen in the aftermath of what you had done, of the secret you had tried so very hard to cover up.

You reluctantly step into the Crest, taking Grogu and his carrier off your shoulders, placing him in his crib. You throw the carrier to the ground. He gurgles something entirely unintelligible. There’s a tiredness in his grumblings. Good, you think to yourself. At least he’ll be asleep when you and Din have it out.

Din’s steps echo against the walls of the Crest. You know he’s disappointed. You can feel it. You should’ve told him the truth, told him who you were, told him that person isn’t who you are anymore. It’s certainly not the person you are with him. Din makes your past seem like some non-existent, intangible, fictional far-off tale. It was like he made you forget. No. He changed you, altered your brain chemistry, made you feel like you mattered. And not because he had to, but because he wanted to.

You needed him, and it scared you. You were almost afraid of the connection, of the dependency.

But he needs you too, you just don’t know it yet.

You wait a minute, trembling a bit in the hull, watching as Grogu’s eyes struggle to stay open. Within a few seconds, they’re closed. Din’s figure finally appears in the doorway. He’s apprehensive, tentative, as if he hasn’t made up his mind about coming inside. Your stomach knots, twinging as he finally steps all the way inside, pressing a button as the ramp shuts behind him.

He looks over at Grogu, fast asleep in his crib. A modulated breath escapes from under his helmet. It’s a sigh of defeat, of dejection. You build up the courage to stare into his visor, half expecting to get an indication of how he’s feeling. But there’s nothing, no sign of life save the shallow breaths slipping through his vocoder.

“Din, just let me explain.” It’s a plea, a solicitation for forgiveness.

But he isn’t buying it. “Did you lie to me?” There’s no anger in his voice, no agitation, not even an ounce of annoyance. It’s hurt, pain, possibly even betrayal, and that feels far worse than any vexation or outrage ever could. “Last time I checked, Jedi don’t use the force like that.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, your eyes breaking away from his glare. You know he’s staring at you under his helmet, searching for answers, trying to convince himself that what had just happened was a figment of his imagination. But it wasn’t. It was you. The past had caught up with your present, and now they’d fight for control.

“No, they don’t,” You pause, breathing deeply before continuing. “The Inquisitors kidnapped me when I was a kid. I was saved just a few months after the first Death Star was destroyed.” There’s a moment of relief before the fear of waiting for his response kicks in. You had told him the truth, and he wasn’t running away. Din was still in front of you, listening to every word you had to say.

He takes a few steps toward you, slowly closing the distance between you and him. “You could’ve told me that,” He whispers. “You should’ve told me.” He’s more assertive the second time around.

“I didn’t want you to think that I-I was still like that.” You can feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, begging to be blinked away. “I d-didn’t want you to t-think I was some monster.”

“What are you talking about?” He finds himself being drawn even closer towards you, his gloved hands gravitating to yours, his fingertips brushing against your wrists as he presses his palms into your own. Home. The word flashes in your mind in big bright lights, your hands fitting perfectly into his. “How could you think I’d ever see you like that?”

“I could tell you were scared, when you saw what I did…” You trail off, your heart beating wildly out of your chest. “Maybe I shouldn’t be training the kid. Maybe I’m not…” Din shakes his head. “Not what?”

“Not good enough,” You mumble, fighting back sobs. “If I can’t let go of my past, let go of those feelings…”

“No.” There’s no hesitance in his statement, no question, no consideration. Din means it. “Don’t think like that, mesh’la. You’re more than enough, more than the kid and I could’ve ever asked for.”

“But I-,”

He cuts you off again. “You protected Grogu. You protected me.”

“I lied to you, Din,” Your voice is soft, quiet, timid. “I did something I’d promise myself I’d never do again.” You blink a few times, letting the inevitable tears stream down your cheeks.

Din squeezes your hands lightly and lets go. Before you can internally grieve the loss of contact, he pulls you into his chest, his arms wrapping around you. He had never been so gentle with you, so kind, so soft. This was so unlike him.

You sob into his beskar covered chest. The cold metal feels good against your burning cheeks. “I-I’m sorry.” You croak out, your voice reverberating through his armor.

“It’s alright,” He mutters, the top of his helmet coming down to rest on your head. “I’ve got you, it’s gonna be okay.” You sniffle as he whispers sweet reassurances in your ears, reminding you that you’re good enough, that he’s right next to you, that nothing bad is going to happen. “You should get some rest.”

You nod, and Din pulls you from his chest, stepping away from you and into the cockpit. You wish he was still next to you, his body pressed against yours. The closer you get to Din, the more dangerous things become. Luke and Ahsoka had told you the dangers of maintaining connections, building relationships. Ahsoka had been more forgiving, given that she believed in a more balanced way than the Jedi did. But Luke…Luke had been warning you for years.

Honestly, you didn’t care anymore. You wanted to forget Luke’s grating voice, to dispel each ideal he forced into your head. You wanted Din, needed Din. He was all that mattered now.

Forget your past This is your last chance now And we can break the rules Like nothing will last

Luke’s warnings fade away as you search through your clothes for something more comfortable to wear. Naturally, there’s nothing clean, nothing that Grogu hadn’t spit up on.

There’s one shirt of Din’s that you had borrowed a few nights ago when he was out on a hunt by himself. It still smells like him, feels like him too. You like how you look in it, the way it hangs too long on you. You like that it’s his and not yours. You slip it on and walk out into the hull and towards the cockpit as the Crest takes off.

You can’t see it, but his eyes settle on your reflection in the viewport. He turns around to get a better look. His shirt is massive on you, falling just above your knees. He hadn’t expected to see you in his clothes, but fuck did you look good. He couldn’t hold back anymore, not after today, not after you had sobbed in his arms.

He needed to remind you of who you are. He needed to tell you what you meant to him. Maker, he needed you to know everything, how he wants every inch of you, how much he cares about you, how much he loves you.

You can tell he’s looking at you now. You’re suddenly incredibly self-conscious. “I-I’m sorry,” You stutter. “I took i-it the other day without asking…should’ve told you I had it.”

He clutches his fists as the Crest comes out of the planet’s atmosphere. He presses a button, putting the ship on autopilot. “You need to stop apologizing,” He says, pushing his palms into the arms of the pilot’s chair and standing up.

You tilt your head to the side, confused and somehow even more apologetic than you were before. “I-I didn’t mean to offend you-,” “You’re not offending me, you never could.” He closes the gap between the two of you with one small step. “So stop saying sorry.” There’s an urgency in his voice, and an undeniable sense of certainty, like he had thought hard about what he was going to say, as if he had wanted to say this for an incredibly long time.

“Sorr-,” You cut yourself off, a smirk spreading across your face.

Din’s hands hover over your waist, softly settling down, waiting for you to protest. But you don’t. “Is this alright?” He asks.

“Y-yes,” You stutter. Din’s grip becomes firm against your hips. You hum at the contact, slowly pushing your body closer to his until your chests are flush against one another’s.

The tension is palpable. This is no longer him simply trying to comfort you; this is much, much more than that.

He makes the first move, taking a step in between your spread-out legs so that your back presses into the wall behind you. You can feel a pulse of heat shoot down to your core. “You need to know what you mean to me,” He whispers, his knee pressing lightly into your clothed cunt. You hold yourself back from grinding against him. “Need to show you how I feel about you, how you make me feel…” He trails off, letting himself get lost in the moment

Your hands snake up to the base of his neck, where his flight suit and his helmet meet. Your fingers slip under the fabric, exploring the exposed skin there. You’ve always wanted to feel him, to let him feel you. But this was never the deal, this was never something you expected. These were uncharted waters, a feeling that was so far shoved to the back of your head that you were positive this would never happen.

But this is happening.

He tugs the shirt up so that his hands can slip underneath. “Take off your gloves.” Your voice is breathy as the plea slips out. “Wanna feel you.” Din nods, quickly pulling them off before gluing his palms back to your skin. His calloused fingertips graze over your stomach, sending chills down your spine. “Din,” You whisper as he trails towards your bra, dipping underneath. His thumb brushes over your peaked nipple. You shut your eyes, letting your head fall back against the wall.

“What is it, pretty girl?” He asks, teasing you, his fingers pinching your nipple lightly. “Tell me what you want, need to hear you.”

He was going to be the death of you. “I-I want you to f-fuck me,” You beg, shamelessly grinding against his knee, searching for some sort of relief. You can feel your wetness pooling in between your legs. “N-need you to touch me Din, please.”

Din nods, his hands slipping out from under your shirt and down to the waistline of your panties. He drops to his knees as he slips them down your legs, practically tearing them off of you in the process. His fingers glide up your inner thigh as he stands. His palm finally settles against your cunt, the heel of his hand pushing into your clit, his fingers teasing at your opening.

“Fuck, you’re so wet, such a good girl,” He praises, moving a bit so that his fingers find their way to your clit. You moan out at the sudden pressure. “You like that? Like my fingers there?”

You hum a yes, unable to pull any sort of coherent thought together as Din’s fingers swirl around your clit. “N-need more,” You mumble. “W-wanna feel you, please.” You can feel his erection against your leg, throbbing in his flight suit. But Din doesn’t stop, his fingers continue their unrelenting circles at your core.

He moves his hand ever so slightly, shifting the angle so that his thumb brushes against your clit, and his fingers begin to tease your folds. Your head falls against his shoulder at the feeling. His fingers suddenly thrust into you, pumping in and out.

“You’re so perfect,” His honeyed, modulated voice rasps. He watches as your chest heaves against his shirt, your back limp against the wall of his ship, your head pressed against his shoulder. Fuck you looked so good like this, taking him, letting him make you his. And Maker, you felt good doing it. Nothing would ever compare to this, to the feeling of having him this close to you. “Doing so good for me.”

“Din,” You whimper. “I-I’m so close.”

He smirks under his helmet. He was going to make you come on his fingers. You clench around him, his fingers hitting the spot you need him in most every time. “That’s it sweet girl, just like that,” Din whispers, his thumb mercilessly toying with your core. You can feel yourself coming undone around him, like a wire snapping in two, heat spreading fervently across every inch of your body.

“D-Din,” You stutter, pulling him against you, his fingers still buried inside you, his thumb still drawing gentle circles. You needed more, you needed him closer than humanly possible. You bring a hand down to his erection, jerking him off through his pants. “N-need you inside me, Din.”

He doesn’t waste any time undoing his belt, shoving his pants off. He’s so fast you’re not even sure any of it happened in the first place. He lines himself up with your entrance. “Are you sure you want this?” He asks.

There’s no question. “I’ve always wanted this, Din, always wanted you.”

He rests his forehead against yours. “…‘always wanted you too, mesh’la.” You gasp as he buries himself inside of you with one thrust, splitting you open. “So fucking tight, so perfect,” He praises you again, your eyes rolling to the back of your head at his words. He gives you a minute to adjust to him before pulling out and shoving himself back in. You’ve never felt so full, so whole, like he’s tearing you apart just to put you back together.

“Feels s’good,” You murmur as Din sets his pace. It starts slow, his hips rolling against yours with each thrust. He’s taking his time, exploring every inch of you. His thumb finds your clit again. The sensation is almost overwhelming. You’re already on the borderline of being fucked out.

You can feel your core pulsing as he works at you, toying with you. His thrusts become quicker, needier. “So perfect for me,” He soothes, his hand coming up to cradle your cheek, brushing away a tear you didn’t know had escaped your eye. “Taking me so well, wanted to do this for so long.”

You were already practically there. Every pump, every praise, every swirl pushes you closer to the edge, threatening to throw you over, to split you in two, and Maker, you wanted it.

“Din I-I-,” You can’t even get the words out.

“I know, pretty girl, I’ve got you,” He coos, fucking you into the wall, his thumb still beating away at your heat, his other hand still holding your cheek. Your legs are hooked around his waist, your fingers digging into the beskar that dawns his shoulders.

Your walls flutter around him, and you can feel yourself falling apart around his cock. Searing white heat floods your vision. You can feel a few cool tears against your hot cheeks. You look into his visor as you come. You want him to see you, to know how he makes you feel. “F-fuck, Din, I-I love you.” The confession doesn’t bother you as it slips out. It’s natural, like you had said it countless times before.

And you’ll say it countless times after.

It’s what sends Din over the edge. “S-shit,” His voice is shaky, breathy, broken, his cock twitching inside of you. You can feel him fill you up, pumping in and out a few more times before stopping, still buried deep inside you. His forehead rests on yours, your body limp against his. “I love you,” He confesses back. “So fucking much.” You shut your eyes, letting yourself melt around him. “Can we stay like this, for just a little while? Don’t wanna leave you yet.” You hum a soft yes in response. You didn’t want him to go anywhere either.

His arms wrap around you, pulling you in, keeping you held against his chest. There it is, that same feeling from before, the one you felt the very second you joined this little clan of three.

Home.

If you're afraid of what you need If you're afraid of what you need Look around you, you're surrounded It won't get any better

And so, goodnight

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