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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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In a Perfect World, You Love Me [i]

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: injury, mentions of blood, cursing, derogatory name calling, forced drug exposure, hallucinations, light smut, angst, and some angst, and a little more angst just to top it off (actually this isn’t nearly as heartbreaking as some stuff i’ve written before lol), self doubt, anxiety, also cobb vanth is here. it’s not a warning but i love him so i wanted to mention it.🤷🏻‍♀️

word count: 6,961

Summary: On the way to visit an old friend, you and Mando find trouble. Both of you are subjected to a drug that puts you in your perfect world. But, when you can’t tell what’s real and what isn’t, how do you know what to trust?

a/n: bitches be planning out short drabbles about heart break only for it to turn into a long wordy mess. it’s me. i’m bitches. anybody know the show supernatural? it’s a show about like dramatic ass sad brothers who travel the country fighting monsters? (i know you know i’m being sarcastic). i watched that one episode where the djinn puts dean in like a dream world and it inspired this. i wanted to name it ‘din djarin’s djinn dream’ but that seemed a bit too on the nose.

“sometimes it is not love that breaks your heart. it is disappointment.”

-r.m. drake

Grogu was safe. That was the first thought that came to mind. You were so incredibly grateful that Mando had decided to leave the small child with Peli at the shop. It had been a last minute call. Weirdly, you were also thankful that you hadn’t stayed behind. You nearly did. Traveling through the Dune Sea was an absolutely miserable experience between the heat and the sand. It would have been so much more comfortable to just sit in the shop, cuddle with Grogu, and watch Peli con her customers.

However, when Mando mentioned he was going to Mos Pelgo you jumped at the chance to visit Cobb Vanth. It had been ages since you last saw the man, and you were eager to catch up with the marshal. So you climbed onto Mando’s rented land speeder, wrapped your arms around his beskar armor, and the two of you set off. What was supposed to be a simple day trip to greet an old friend and ask for a favor turned into a Maker forsaken nightmare.

Your face was throbbing in pain, you tasted blood in your mouth, and you were fairly certain your right wrist was broken based on the swelling and discoloration. Despite all of that, despite the pain and fear, the thought occurred to you once more. You were so thankful you were here.

“How pathetic.” The smuggler cackled amongst his small crew. “You’re going to protect the Mandalorian from us? You dumb bitch.”

Five dangerous men stood at the rim of the pit you were trapped in while Mando laid motionless behind you. There was a bit of blood pooling from out of the bottom of his helmet, onto the sand, and the only comfort you had that Mando was still with you was the slow rise and fall of his chest.

The smugglers had set a trap that Mando and you had fallen right into. As your land speeder tripped a wire it caused a blast that had both of you falling into a pit. The damned thing was deep enough to leave both of you injured and you prayed that your injuries were worse than Mando’s and he was just out cold for a moment. Your attackers began to argue amongst one another and you stayed on high alert. Mando and you were fish in a barrel. They could rain blaster fire down on you and there would be nothing you could do about it. The only reason you hadn’t grabbed Mando’s blaster to fire up is because you didn’t want to trigger a massacre.

“Shoot her dead then climb down and collect the beskar. Easy.” One smuggler scoffed and pulled out his blaster. You flinched but the loudest of the men, the leader, shoved the blaster’s aim away from you. “What?”

“The moment we try and get off world we’re gonna get stopped by those damned pirates again.” He snapped. “We keep the girl alive and hand her over as the tax we pay to pass free. We keep all the Mandalorian’s armor to ourselves.”

“Who’d want a bitch over beskar?”

“Oh, trust me.” The lead smuggler chuckled and the sound made you cringe. You set your hand in Mando’s gloved one and wished more than anything his grip would tighten around you rather than stay limp. “I know the man running the show right now, and he’s got a weakness for pretty little things.”

You tried to hide the tremble that shook your frame and you whispered for Mando to wake up⏤ for him to hear you. The lead smuggler opened his bag and you grasped Mando’s blaster. As threateningly as you could manage, you barked out. “You come down here and I’ll kill you. You hear me?!”

“Aw, she’s got some bite. Maybe we should keep her instead.”

“Shut the hell up.” The lead snapped and continued to root through his bag. “Where the kriff is that damned spice bomb?” Your eyebrows furrowed. Spice was bad news. It wasn’t something you ever wanted to touch. You had seen what the addiction could do to people, and you had a very bad feeling about what a spice bomb would be. “There it is.”

Panic hit you, and you lifted the blaster to start firing but the leader tossed a glowing red ball down into the pit and the smugglers dove away from the hole. The ball exploded mid way down into a cloud of red dust that rained down on you and Mando. You tried to cover your mouth and nose with the bottom of your shirt, but it was to no avail. Your entire body grew heavy, collapsing on top of Mando’s chest, and a sharp, tingling sensation washed over you before your eyes fell shut.

Din woke with a start⏤ panting and desperate for air. His mind was filled with a heavy fog that he tried to swim through to gather his bearings. There had been a wire. Din noticed it much too late and he remembered the ground swallowing you and him whole. You. Your scream was the last thing he could recall.

His hands drifted to his face and Din hated that it was only then that he noticed he wasn’t wearing a helmet. He blamed the fog. Din scrambled about the soft bed he realized he was tucked into as he searched the space around him for his armor. Din was in a bedroom he didn’t recognize wearing only a pair of sleep pants. Dank farrik. Din leapt out of bed but stumbled rather than landed with any amount of grace. Where was he? Where were you??

He forced himself to take a steadying breath and centered himself.

The bedroom was small. Only a large bed, a clothing dresser, and two nightstands on either side of the bed. The walls were painted a soft blue, two doors leading out, and one wall had a window that spanned nearly the entire length of the room. Din blinked in confusion. Outside was a bustling city with towering pillar-like buildings and early morning light spilling down through holes in the upper shelf casting light on a city that was very much alive. Din knew where he was. He just didn’t know how he got here or how this was even possible.

“Sundari?” He breathed in shock. Din had only seen images of the cities of Mandalore. Sundari, the domed capital city, being the most infamous of all. This must have been a dream. Exactly how hard had he hit his head in the fall?

Din, in all his distraction, hadn’t even noticed the sound of running water until it stopped. He spun on his heel and stared at the door in the corner which must have led into a fresher. Din wasn’t alone. His hand snapped to his hip for his blaster but met air. Maker, he’d be happy when this concussion finally passed. He scanned the room for any kind of weapon he could use and as he grasped the nightstand drawer he froze. Sitting on top of the small table was a holo image being projected up from a disk as decor.

It was a photo of you and Grogu. Din narrowed his eyes at it in confusion. The two of you were at a park of some kind, but he couldn’t recall where or when this had occurred. The door opened, making Din jump in surprise. Fine, concussion or not, he’d fight his way out by hand. However, as if he couldn’t possibly be caught more off guard, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing only a towel.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” You stepped toward him and Din stayed frozen in place. Your hands came up to run across his bare chest before settling on his waist where you continued to trace your fingertips up and down in a repetitive pattern. There was so much happening at once that Din didn’t even know what to think. It didn’t help that the moment your skin touched his, his mind seemed to short circuit. “I was trying to let you sleep in for at least a little.”

Ever since you had confessed to him weeks ago that you wanted more than just a friendship Din had been plagued with dreams of you. Visions of you moaning under him as he buried himself into your warmth, of you riding his cock while his hands explored your body, of him simply holding you in his arms and memorizing your features unimpeded by his helmet. But never had it ever felt this real.

“Din?” You tilted your head. Hearing his name from your lips, he shuddered. How was this happening? You staring up at his bare face and whispering his name in concern.

Din tried to open his mouth and speak, but his voice had left him. When you confessed to him, it had taken every fiber of his being to not react. As much as he cared about you, as badly as he wanted you, he knew it was a bad idea. Din knew he had to draw a line to keep you safe. He was dangerous and Din knew it was selfish of him to keep you and Grogu around despite that. He always figured the two of you would go your separate ways when the jedi were found and Grogu was delivered, but Din would never be able to say good-bye to you if he crossed that line. So he lied. Told you he didn’t feel the same and walked away leaving you teary eyed and broken hearted.

You frowned. Your eyebrows furrowed and he had the overwhelming urge to smooth out your brow with his fingers. Trace every inch of your face with his hands. “You look sad, love.” You lifted your hands to cup his face. “Did you have that nightmare again?”

“Wh⏤What?” Din’s voice was quiet and ragged.

“We’re safe now. You don’t have to worry.” You caressed his cheek. “Me, you, and Grogu. We’re all safe. We have a home. Our days of running are over.”

Din shook his head. “No, no. We were in the Dune Sea. I⏤I missed the trip wire and we fell. You were hurt. We⏤”

“Din, that was so long ago. Out of all the bantha shit we’ve dealt with I’m surprised that memory is the one plaguing you.” You said.

Din pulled out of your arms. “It wasn’t. It just happened. You’re lost⏤ You’re hurt. I have to⏤”

“I’m not lost. I’m not hurt. I’m safe, right here with you, in our home. Grogu is still sleeping down the hall. There’s no place safer for our son and I.” You set your hands on his chest once more. “Grogu with his buir, and I with my riduur.”

Din was so shocked by the Mando’a that left your lips that he didn’t even register the soft kiss you pressed in the middle of his chest. Right where his iron heart would be if he had his armor on. You stepped away from him, walking to the dresser off to the side, and Din watched you go until you let the towel fall from your body. He forced his gaze up to the ceiling to keep from staring. Something felt wrong. Was this a dream? Was he dead?

Din didn’t trust the world around him.

You startled awake. A cloud of panic and fear drowning you.

“Mando!?” The nickname left your lips before you even registered a thought. You scrambled to sit up, arms reaching out to try and find purchase, but it was too dark to see anything. Even without your sight, something felt familiar about the material under your body and the comforting smell surrounding you, but the last memory of the smugglers dropping the spice bomb had too much adrenaline rushing through your body for you to think properly.

The wall in front of you shot up with a metallic click and a light blinded you. Hands grabbed your calves and you screamed again trying to kick them off. “Mesh’la! You’re safe!” Mando’s modulated voice filled the air. “You’re on the Razor Crest. You’re in my bunk.”

Your eyes adjusted to the light and you recognized your setting. That’s why it was familiar. Mando’s scent surrounded you as you were nestled in the blankets and pillow he used to sleep. Standing at the bunk’s entrance was the Mandalorian himself. He looked unharmed, but he always looked unharmed when he was covered from head to toe in his beskar.

“Mando!” You cried in alarm and launched yourself at him. He didn’t complain when you wrapped your arms around him tightly. Mando simply held onto you and kept you from knocking him over. This should be awkward considering how he had bluntly said he felt nothing for you only weeks ago. But, you were so relieved that he was safe and alive that you didn’t care. His hands rubbed your back soothingly as he mumbled soft reassurances. “I thought you⏤ I thought we⏤”

“We’re safe, mesh’la.” Mando replied.

You leaned back and he kept his arms around you. “What happened? The last thing I remember…” It hurt to try and pull the memory out of your own head. Spice bomb. Red dust had rained over you and Mando. You passed out on top of him. “The⏤The bomb.”

“It knocked you out.” Mando said. “My helmet filtered it out, I think. I woke up with you on top of me and the smugglers were climbing down. We fought. I won. Then I carried you back to Peli’s.”

“All of that happened?”

“We’re in hyperspace now.”

“How,” You shook your head, “How long was I out?”

“Two days. The spice hit your systems hard. I was⏤” Mando cleared his throat, the sound scratchy through the modulator. “I was worried about you, mesh’la.”

It was only then you realized you still had your hands resting on his shoulders and he had his own wrapped around your waist as you sat on your knees⏤ the bunk making the two of you eye level. You swallowed nervously. “I, uh, it was you I was worried about. Your head. I thought I saw blood when you were out cold.”

“Small injury. Only took one round of bacta to clear up.”

“Good.”

“You, on the other hand,” Mando mumbled. He brushed his gloved fingers across your face. The touch lingered on your cheekbone. The same one that had hit the ground hard enough to make your face throb. Mando pulled his other hand away to wrap around your non-bruised and non-swollen wrist. How much bacta had he used to get all your injuries healed in two days? “Mesh’la, I am so sorry.”

You shook your head. “None of that was your fault.”

Mando kept quiet, as if he didn’t agree but didn’t know what else to say. The sound of a soft coo made you lean forward and peer around the edge of the bunk where Grogu was standing by the ladder leading up to the cockpit. He lifted his arms and waddled closer. Mando released you to pick the small child up. Grogu whined until Mando set him in your lap and you didn’t hesitate to cuddle the boy to your chest.

Thank the Maker, he hadn’t been with the two of you. You let out another sigh of relief. It seemed like you and Mando had gotten out of the pit by luck alone and you don’t know what you would’ve done if Grogu had been harmed during the whole thing.

“Here. Let’s get you some food.” Mando set a hand on your elbow to help you slide out of the bunk. What caught you off guard was when he let his hand travel from your arm to your lower back as he led you toward the ladder. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his entire frame. Mando was a good man. It wasn’t the shiny, silver metal of a Mandalorian you were attracted to or the reputation of a dangerous and strong bounty hunter. You had fallen for the kind and protective man who hid under both of those roles. Mando’s head turned to stare back at you and a thrill went down your spine. He whispered your name.

You took a step away and cleared your throat. Mando let his arm fall away. Your obsession with him, your stupid idiotic crush on him, had you misreading signals left and right. The only reason you had confessed was because you convinced yourself that he was shooting you lingering looks and that every brush of his hand against you was purposeful and not a mistake made in passing.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. Mando had made his position clear, and you were done crossing the lines and boundaries he had set.

“Can you get up to the flight deck alright?” Mando asked and you nodded. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

Mando tilted his head toward the ladder and he waited until you began to climb⏤ as if he was worried you’d fall off mid-way up. When you got upstairs, you settled into the co-pilot’s chair with Grogu in your lap and stared out at the blurring lines of hyperspace. A small smile settled on your features.

The world around you was right again.

Din felt more like himself once he had his armor on. It still felt like the world around him was spinning and nothing made sense, but his beskar was like a heavy, impenetrable comfort blanket. He sat in a kitchen, helmet on, as he stared out at Sundari through a window that sat near a dining table. It seemed the home around him was part of a tower inside the domed city, and Din still couldn’t wrap his brain around that. The sound of footsteps startled him and he turned in time to see you padding down the hall with Grogu in your arms. He pushed to stand⏤ seeing the small child putting him at ease.

“Why do you have your helmet on?” You asked after handing Grogu to him. The child bounced in his arms chanting a recognizable sound asking for food. “Are you leaving already? Don’t you want breakfast?”

Din stayed quiet. You moved around the kitchen with the ease of someone who did this regularly, and he watched you make a meal. It didn’t make sense, he didn’t understand, but he couldn’t deny the attraction he felt toward you being so domestic. Especially after you had just claimed that he was your partner, your husband, your riduur.

“Come here, cutie.” You cooed to Grogu and he let you take the boy from him. You set him in a little high chair and set a bowl of food in front of him. As per usual, Grogu didn’t hesitate to begin scarfing down what was in front of him. You lovingly pressed a kiss to his head then walked over to lean at the corner of the kitchen island next to him. “Din, please talk to me.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “You’re starting to scare me.”

“I’m sorry, Mesh’la.” He sighed.

You had shifted even closer to the bar stool he sat on. Din tensed when your hands settled on his thighs and you stepped between them. Slowly, you took his hand in yours and began to peel his gloves off. Din sucked in a breath, but couldn’t find a complaint to speak. You did the same thing with his other hand. Finally, your hands rested on his helmet, but you didn’t move. Not until Din gave a small nod. You pulled his helmet off carefully, respectfully resting it on the counter, and Din felt his features soften as he stared at you. Maker, you were beautiful.

“Din, listen to me, I love you.” You said. A pretty smile spread across your features and you took his face between your hands. “But if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I am going to kick your ass.” He chuckled and leaned into your touch. Was Din losing his mind? If this was insanity, it felt so good that Din really didn't think he minded. “Are you… Are you having one of your mornings?”

“One of my… mornings?” Din furrowed his brow.

“You know, when the nightmare doesn’t end.” You whispered.

Din shook his head. “This isn’t a nightmare. It’s a dream. A dream I don’t deserve.” He let his hands rest on top of yours with the plan to pull them away, but he was too weak to actually go through with it. Din sighed, “I lied to you.” A flash of confusion crossed your features. “I said I didn’t care about you in the same way you felt about me, but it was a lie. From the moment you stepped onto the Razor Crest I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Mesh’la, you are my world.”

“Din, are you…” You paused then a small laugh left you, “Maker, are you talking about when we were trying to get to Mos Pelgo, still? I confessed to you and then we got caught weeks later and…” You shook your head. “Don’t scare me like that. When you said you were sorry and you lied, I was worried something had happened. It’s just a bad morning. They always pass.”

“What are you talking about?” Din asked.

“Fine. I’ll jump start your memory.” You pushed up on your tiptoes and then sat on his thigh. Naturally, his hands went around your waist to keep you from falling and your hands wrapped around his neck. “You confessed to me. It happened months later. You’re an incredible bounty hunter, but you move slow as hell, Din.” He narrowed his eyes. “It was right after we decided to keep Grogu with us. Become a real family. For the record, it also took you way too long to propose to me too.”

Din could picture it all and it made everything so much more confusing. Had that happened? No. Not yet. Yet? Had he meant to think of that word? Yet? Din wasn’t planning any of that, but it sounded right. No part of him thought he deserved you or Grogu, but Maker this was what he always wanted. It was the life he craved, but was too broken to admit aloud.

“But,” Din tried to find a tether to hold him in reality, “Sundari. We live in Sundari? Mandalore is dead.”

“No, it wasn’t. The poison the Empire caused faded away. We rebuilt.” The sound of a door chime made you glance over your shoulder. “Kriff. She’s here early.” You slid off his lap. “Grogu, we’re gonna be late! Let’s get you cleaned up so Soran can walk you to school.”

Din watched you scoop Grogu up, the boy gave him a wave he returned numbly, and the two of you disappeared down the hall. Were his fears the reason he was confused? What if what you said was right? He was just trapped in a nightmare and it was keeping him from living his life. Din had finally taken the leap, taken the chance, and found his perfect home. Now, his fear was crawling back and trying to ruin it again. Din always did this. He always fought himself. It was why he had denied your initial confession and wasted so much time in the first place.

Moments passed, he could hear you moving around the home with Grogu. Until finally the door chime rang again. Din stood up and faced the hall. Seconds later, you stepped back into view. You gave him a bright smile.

“Alright, where were we?”

Fully accepting this for what it was, Din marched toward you. Your feet came to a stuttering stop and an excitement filled your eyes. You knew what he was doing before even he knew entirely. Din basically tackled you, pressing your body as tight as he could to his chest, and crushed his lips to yours. You responded immediately. Your hands wrapping around his neck as his tongue found it’s way past your lips. Din let his hands trail down your back, over your ass, under your thighs, and with ease began to pick you up. Just like with the kiss, you were on the same page as he was. You jumped just enough for him to lift you off the ground and your legs wrapped around his waist⏤ locking your ankles at his back.

Din had planned to carry you down the hall, back to the bedroom, but he felt you grind against him and that plan went right out the window. He slammed you against the wall, lips leaving yours to trail down your neck. Maker, he wanted you. Keeping you pinned to the wall with his hips, relying on your grip around his waist and neck, Din pulled his hands away so he could grab the collar of your shirt. He ripped it down to the middle of your torso so his mouth could reach your breasts.

“I liked that shirt, you know.” You gasped, but the way you kept trying to find friction against his hard on told him you didn’t like it all that much.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” Din replied before leaving open mouth kisses down your chest. One hand went back to cup around your thigh and the other yanked your breast band down so his mouth could wrap around your nipple. The unholy moan that left your lips nearly made him come undone right then and there.

“You’re going to be late to work. They need you today.”

“Mesh’la, I don’t kriffing care.” Din said after pulling his lips away from your breast. His mouth found its way back to yours and after leaving a messy kiss there he pulled away only far enough to speak. “As far as I’m concerned the only place I’m needed is right between your thighs.”

Din licked into your mouth, and he was startled when your hands untangled from around his neck. Then, with great proficiency, you began to unlatch his armor. His vambrace and left pauldron fell to the ground with a heavy thunk. “How did you do that so fast? How’d you know where the latches were?”

“I’m your wife, dummy.” You unlatched his right one, it joined the other on the floor, then you ripped the cloak out from under the top of his chest piece and pulled down on the collar of his shirt so you could leave too soft, teasing kisses against the hollow of his throat. “Now, either keep carrying me down the hall to our bed or drop me on the floor⏤ I don’t care, I just need you to fuck me.”

Din was not going to make it to the bedroom.

You rose from your seat with Grogu nestled in your arms sleeping. It hadn’t taken long for the boy to fall asleep between the warmth of your arms and the silence of hyperspace. As you drifted toward the door, Mando spoke up.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna put him in his hammock is all.” You whispered.

Mando glanced over his shoulder at you then nodded. “Good. Come back up when you’re done.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise but you gave him a quiet confirmation before leaving the cockpit. You made your way down the ladder slowly and carefully so you didn’t wake or drop the little green gremlin snoring against your chest. You chuckled and rubbed his back while crossing the cargo hold. When you set him in the hammock, he stirred briefly and you took the time to lightly rock the hammock while humming him a lullaby. Only when you were convinced he had fallen back into a restful sleep did you find your way back to the cockpit.

“He’s down for the count.” You joked and dropped back into your chair.

Mando flipped a few switches on the panel before spinning the pilot’s seat so he was facing you. Your eyes widened and you shifted awkwardly in place. The weight of his heavy stare on you was intense. It burned into you and for a brief second you were sure he could see straight into your soul.

“What’s going on?” You asked. “You okay?”

“I could’ve lost you.” Mando whispered. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“It’s over, Mando. We don’t have to think about it anymore.”

“It’s not over, mesh’la. There will always be another fight, another opportunity for someone to take you from me.” He argued.

Mando wasn’t wrong. Your lives were a constant battle to maintain the upper hand over all the people trying to take Grogu and harm both of you. It was the exact reason why you had found the courage to confess to him in the first place. You stupidly convinced yourself that you didn’t want to lose anymore time⏤ waste another second. The silence in the cockpit was agonizing. You wanted so badly to break it, but you had no idea what to say to do so.

Luckily, Mando did not have that same problem.

“Come here, mesh’la.” He motioned you toward him with the curling motion of his fingers. You swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in the middle of your throat like a rock. “Please.” The word was spoken softly, but there was a firm undertone that made it feel less like a request and more like a command. You stood up and took the single shaky step that was required to put you in his reach. Mando’s hands found your hips and he startled you by pulling you into his lap. With a yelp of surprise, you were forced to rest your knees on the outside of his thighs. The moment you were situated Mando spread his own thighs further so each of your legs were pinned between him and the chair and you were even more open to him. “Oh, sweet girl…”

“Mando. What⏤ What are you doing?” You whispered. Your entire face felt hot⏤ kriff, every inch of you felt hot.

He shook his head, his hands roaming up and down your sides, “I never should have said no to you. What happened, it made me realize how much,” Mando raised a gloved hand to your face, “how much I care about you.”

“Wait, really?” You breathed. It was the stupidest kind of response to give and you hated that you just blurted it out. Mando chuckled in response, and you shook your head. “Mando, maybe you’re just… feeling this way because what happened was so fresh. We should give it a little time⏤”

“I spent two days waiting for you to open those pretty eyes for me, sweet girl.” Mando cut in. “I’m not losing another second with you.”

The hand fell from your face to rest on your shoulder and, with the other still on your hip, Mando pressed you down on top of him. He shifted his own hips so he could drag the hard bulge in his pants against your core. A sharp gasp of surprise left your lips. Mando kept you pressed against him and when he dragged his hip against yours again the sensation caused you to groan this time.

“Dank farrik.” Mando grunted as he bucked up against you⏤ this time you moved your own hips to add to the friction and he moaned. The sound of him losing control shot straight to your core and you let your hands rest on his chest so you could grind into him more. Maker, you wanted to hear that sound again.

Mando sat up straight and the only thing keep you from tumbling off his lap was the hand he wrapped around your waist. He reached past you, hands hitting switches and buttons, and suddenly the entire panel of flickering lights went dead. “Mando?” You questioned. He hit one more switch and you glanced over your shoulder to watch as the windows darkened until the lights of hyperspace couldn’t be seen. Nothing could be seen. A hiss of pressure release, then a hand took hold of your jaw to turn you back so you faced forward.

“Mesh’la.” Mando whispered. Before you had only heard his unmodulated voice from a distance, as he was eating out of sight or lying in his bunk with the door closed. But, now it was closer than you could ever imagine. He mumbled your name and you could feel the movement of his lips just barely brushing against yours⏤ his hot breath on your face. “Say you want me, mesh’la.”

You took in a deep breath and nodded. “I want you, Mando. I’ve always wanted you.”

Rather than pressing his lips to yours as you wanted, Mando lifted you with ease and pressed you against the control panel. Something sharp was jabbing you in the back, but you didn’t care. Mando’s leather gloves roughly yanked your pants down, underwear and all. You had lifted your hips just enough to help him, but when you lowered yourself back into a seated position you hissed at the cold metal against your bare skin.

You lifted your hands to find his shoulders, you wanted to feel his face, but Mando’s hands grabbed you by the wrists and pinned them to the panel by your head. He leaned over you and slowly dragged his hard cock, hidden behind his flight suit, against your already dripping wet lips⏤ but it wasn’t the only lips you wanted touched.

“Kiss me, please.” You begged and tried to lift your head to find his, but he leaned back just enough to avoid you. “Mando, I want to feel you⏤ all of you⏤ please.”

“Not yet, mesh’la. Be patient.” His entire weight was pressing down on you. “Good girls are patient, and only good girls get rewarded. Is that what you want, mesh’la? To be my good girl?” You nodded, breathless from the agonizingly slow way he was grinding into you. “Words, mesh’la.”

“Yes.” You gasped. “Please, Mando, please⏤”

“How lucky am I?” Mando hummed. “To have such a pretty girl begging under me. I’ve wanted to make you fall apart since the moment you stepped onto my ship.” You tensed as an alarm began to faintly ring at the back of your mind. Something inside you was trying to warn you. Mando kept whispering loving words on top of you. “You’re mine, mesh’la. You’ve always been mine and you always will be.”

“No.” You tried to squirm out from under him, but Mando was much too large and much too heavy for you to even move an inch. “No, no, no.”

Taking the hint, Mando released your hands and jumped away from you. Breathless, you tried to sit up and gather your bearings. “What is it, mesh’la? What’s wrong?”

“This is wrong.” You shook your head.

“No, it’s right. This is what you want, this is what I want.”

“No, it’s not.” A sob left you. “You don’t want me. You said so yourself. You don’t want me. This isn’t right.” Your head was beginning to pound in pain and Mando’s voice sounded like it was suddenly far away. The cold metal under you was beginning to turn hot and the firm smoothness of the control panel was taking on a new texture⏤ something grainy that shifted under you. The darkness turned to a blinding light and you gasped as pain began to settle into you.

Your face was throbbing, you tasted blood in your mouth, and your right wrist was aching. Now you had a pounding headache as well. You blinked your eyes, trying to clear the blurriness out of your vision, and you saw a man climbing down a ladder into the pit you laid in. The smugglers. The spice bomb. Your hand tightened around the blaster you had taken from Mando and you lifted your heavy arm to fire at the man. It hit him in the back and he fell from the ladder and landed motionless only a few feet away.

You blindly fired shots up to the ridge of the pit. Over and over⏤ not knowing what else to do. You fired so much that you never noticed the sound of someone else’s blaster mingling with yours. A familiar voice was calling out to you, but it wasn’t Mando. Your heavy arm sunk back into the sand, blaster falling loose, and your eyes began to droop in exhaustion.

You wished it was Mando calling for you.

You woke up slowly. Your entire body was sore and it took straight willpower to get your eyes to stay open. There was a thin cot underneath you and a flickering fire ahead of you. A groan fell from your lips as you tried to sit up.

“Whoa, whoa,” A familiar voice said, “Slow down there, little lady.”

“Vanth?” You tried to turn to find your friend, but a warm hand kept you from moving too much. Suddenly, Cobb Vanth was kneeling beside you with a charming grin. Your entire body sagged in relief. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now.”

Vanth rubbed his jawline and gave you a wink, “I am much better looking than those damned smugglers, huh? How’d you and Mando get caught up in all that mess?”

“Mando!” You sat up quickly, immediately wincing when a sharp pain shot through you.

“Maker, darling.” Vanth scolded. “Your tin man is doing just fine. He’ll feel just as shitty as you when he finally wakes up.”

You glanced around and just as Vanth said your companion was lying on a small rolled out cot of his own. The firelight dancing as it reflected off his beskar. “He’s really okay? I think he had a head injury.”

“He’s fine. I promise you.” You nodded and Vanth offered you a canteen of water. As he asked, you began to tell him the story of what happened. It didn’t take long until you reached the point of the story that made your cheeks warm. Vanth noticed your hesitance and bumped his shoulder into yours. “Say your piece.”

“They threw a spice bomb and… and some weird shit happened.”

“Yeah, a spice bomb will do that to you.”

“What is it?”

“Depends. What’d you see?”

You paused before shrugging. “I was on the Razor Crest. Traveling with Mando and Grogu. Like always. It was… it felt so real.”

“Probably glitterstim then.” Vanth made you drink more water. “I have no idea how you broke out of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The drug should’ve put you under. Place you in a happy haze of the thing you want most and trap you there for as long as the drug runs its course. Too much and you can end up dying in that perfect little world.” Vanth explained. “Usually, you can’t get out unless someone hits you with an antidote. Something to cancel the effects of the glitterstim. Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless you shock yourself out of it.” Vanth shrugged. “It all happens quick. In the first few minutes you either fall into the spice’s trap or you snap through it. The fact that I saw you wake up and shoot that smuggler is quite the feat, darling. How’d you do it?”

You wrapped your arms around your legs and rested your chin on your knees. The drug in your system deemed your perfect world to be Mando confessing how badly he wanted you. How pathetic was that? You didn’t stay under because even in a drugged out haze your mind knew that it was fake. Mando didn’t want you. Not the way you wanted him. Tears filled your eyes. Vanth didn’t press for you to answer and instead set his arm around your shoulder as a comfort. You leaned into him and fell asleep.

Every single part of Din’s body hurt. It reminded him of when the mudhorn had tossed him around like a ragdoll. Every atom in his body though, despite the pain, screamed danger. Din forced himself to sit up, blaster drawn. He was in the desert, by a fire in the dead of night. Across from him, he saw Cobb Vanth sitting there casually. Din’s blaster was pointed at him, but Vanth just gave him a slight wave.

“Hey there, brother.” He greeted. “You can put the blaster away.”

“What⏤” Din began to ask, but then his eyes landed on you. Your head rested against Vanth’s thigh and he had one hand resting on your shoulder. Part of your face looked bruised and even from this distance he could see your busted lip.

“Smugglers got the jump on y’all. Hit you with a spice bomb.” Din holstered his blaster and cursed. Dank farrik. Whispers of his dream world lingered in his mind and Din had to shake his head to try and rid himself of the way your lips felt against his skin. “You’re lucky.”

“This is lucky?” Din asked dryly. Maker, his body ached.

“Little lady here broke free of the spice dream.” Vanth said. Din’s eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t know what he wanted to know more⏤ what your perfect world had looked like or how you had broken out of it. Vanth’s hand was tracing shapes on your shoulder as you slept and Din frowned at the touch. Coming from an imaginary world where he was fucking you, his wife, to reality where you were sleeping against another man was jarring. “You got stuck in it. Tell me, Mando, what was your perfect world?”

You were. You were his perfect world.

But, Din couldn’t bring himself to admit that in his current reality.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #cobb vanth #din djarin smut #a smidge of angst #idiots in love #pining

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gloomwitchwrites · 6 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

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lincolndjarin · 6 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty nine : the best kept secret (epilogue)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ☆ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 6.1k words

summary : an epilogue for our lovers.

warnings: tooth rotting sweet fluff, language, mentions of sex, an ending so sweet i made myself sick with emotion like omg.

a/n: crying my dick off rn. my moms bringing dinner home rn to celebrate me finishing this and i can't stop crying

☆

The morning sun is warm against your face, you bask in it, unmoving and only half awake until you feel a tiny hand slapping your cheek. The illusion of tranquility is immediately shattered as you softly laugh.

“Mama?”

Your eyes flutter open and you’re greeted by the sight of a little boy in linen pajamas, one pant leg rolled up over his knee as he stands beside your bed.

“Everyone’s awake.” Your son rubs his eyes as he looks up at you, pointing towards your bedroom door.

“Already? Well thank you for telling me.” You reach your hand out which he happily takes as you pull him to your bed side, placing a soft kiss into his dark curls, attempting to smooth out the disarray they're in to no avail. He giggles, pushing your hand away before pointing past you.

“Buir is wearing the birikad in bed again.”

“You’re very observant, sweet boy. Why don’t you go get your brother, bring him here and I’ll send buir to the nursery.” You give him a sleepy smile before you hear the familiar sound of tiny feet running across wood.

You shake Din’s shoulder, his snores stuttering as he sits up in one hasty motion, his eyes still closed as his fingers run through his mess of hair, identical to Arin’s frenzied curls.

“Bottle? Diaper?” His voice is thick with sleep, you reach over, rubbing his back as you sit up as well, kissing his shoulder.

“Stand down, nothing that serious. A certain someone just ran in here and told me there’s signs of life in the nursery.” You run your hands along the fabric strap on his chest. “And he pointed out that you fell asleep with the baby carrier on, again”

“Grogu said all that?” He turns to face you, eyes barely open as he leans towards you to kiss the tip of your nose.

“Save your jokes for someone who actually thinks you’re funny, Djarin.” You pull him in for a kiss by the fabric harness on his chest. When he tears himself from you at the sound of a small cry you stare at his sleepy grin.

You will never get tired of that smile.

“Sounds like someone wants to hear my jokes.” He groans as he stretches, tossing his lower half off the bed before reaching around for his leg, reattaching it and standing.

“Careful in the hall. Lately your son has been insisting on carrying his brother everywhere so you might run into a brawl out there.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.” He yawns before disappearing in the direction of the nursery. Moments later you hear a small scuffle before Arin appears in the doorway holding a very angry Grogu in his arms.

“Put your big brother down, Arin.”

“Little brother.” Arin attempts to correct you as Grogu lets out a squeal of protest. You shoot him a look as you take the child from him, setting the tiny green boy in your lap as your youngest son climbs into bed to join you.

“Just because he’s smaller, doesn’t mean he’s your little brother. He’s still older than you.” You kiss your eldest on his wrinkly forehead as he relaxes in your lap, raising a little green claw to throw a pillow at Arin from across the room. “Grogu, No magic throwing at your siblings.” You chastise him softly, taking his hand and lowering it, reminding yourself to cut his nails later. “Come here.” You beckon towards Arin who instantly jumps up into bed with you, snuggling up next to Grogu as you give both of them a squeeze which Arin wriggles out of, settling on sitting beside you instead.

“And then I told your mother that I was going to find someone who does like my jokes.” You hear Din in the hall before you see him. When he steps into the bedroom the little girl in his arms is just a bundle of giggles. He sets her down on the floor, after a few shakey steps she makes it to your side of the bed.

“Good morning, little flower.” You lift Grogu off your lap, setting him beside his brother who already seems to have gotten over the pillow incident as he tells him everything he wants to do today. You pick up the toddler now demanding your attention. “Did buir do your hair?” You examine the two braids her wispy curls are in as she nods. You cradle her in one arm before looking at your riduur. “Where’s the rest of my garden?” You raise an eyebrow at Din who promptly turns around, revealing an identical copy of the girl currently in your arms, strapped into the fabric harness. The only difference between the two girls is the frown that one wears.

“She didn’t wanna laugh at my jokes so she had to sit in the back.” He shrugs as she kicks her little legs and you reach your free hand out for her.

“Give her to me you evil man.” He grins, reaching behind himself as he carefully removes her from the harness before holding her up to his face so their noses are touching.

“Do you want to go with your mother or stay with me?” He scowls at her which earns him a sharp yank to the hairs on his upper lip. “Dank farrik!” He pulls her away from his face, holding her out towards your waiting arm. “Just like your mother, always so mean to me.” He puts on a mock tone of hurt, both your daughters are finally smiling at the sound of it. You beam down at your girls.

“Dank farrik!” Arin’s voice fills the room as he shouts, you immediately glare at Din.

“Wonder where he gets that from.” You grumble before focusing on the girls, leaving your husband to deal with your sons. “You’ve got a big day ahead of you little flowers.” Both girls look up at you, you see your own eyes reflected in their identical faces. If it weren’t for their wildly different personalities you’d never be able to tell them apart.

They both give you a curious look before their attentions are drawn to Din who has started shoving your other two children in your direction, clearing a space for himself on the bed.

“You shouldn’t say that, ad, it’s rude.” He puts on a serious tone but neither Grogu nor Arin seems intimidated in the slightest, they only fuss as they’re squished between you and Din when he rolls back into bed on his stomach.

“You say it every day.” Arin stretches out, laying across his fathers back while Grogu seems content to stay snuggled up between everyone. “You said it yesterday when Lily put a frog in your shirt.” Din groans loudly, face down into his pillow. You frown down at your daughters. Lily looks entirely unbothered by the revelation of this information, her expression returning to its comical state of sterness. You raise your eyebrows at her, waiting for a confession but you know she won’t say a thing.

So you look down at Grogu.

“Did that really happen?” Your other three children all turn to stare at him until finally he nods.

“Told you.” Arin grins before crawling onto his fathers back, tugging at his hair gently.

Who could have predicted you’d raise such stubborn children.

“Why would you do that? Where did you find a frog?” You look back down at the girls in your lap. Lily remains a vault so you look to the other. “Daisy? Where did your sister get a frog?” The corners of her lips tilt up.

“Grogu brought it in through the window.” Her voice is soft and high pitched as she fights a smile.

“And why did he do that?”

“He was hungry, but buir made lunch, so he gave itta Lily.”

“And why did she put it in buir’s shirt?” You aren’t cross with them, you just can’t help but want her to keep talking, she’s so well spoken for her age and you can’t help but indulge.

“S’ buir’s fault.” She whispers, pointing at her father.

“Was it now?” You put on a surprised voice, Din’s head turns to the side so he can look at you. “What did you do to deserve such a thing?”

“She’s terrible to me, just like her mother.” He laments, reaching a finger out, ticking her neck. Lily’s stern expression falls in an instant, turning to high pitched laughter.

“Buir made ‘er sit in the back of the birikad.” Daisy continues to tell her tale, looking up at you for approval the entire time.

“Why would he do such a horrible thing to such a lovely girl?”

“She putta worm in his sock.” Grogu nods in silent agreement as Daisy continues on. “So he put ‘er on his back an’ she pulled the back of his shirt down an’ she put the frog in his shirt an’ he said dank farrik.” She takes a deep breath when she finishes and you look at your husband.

“So when you said everything went smoothly while I was out-“

“Aside from the worm and the frog everything went smoothly.” He grins for a moment until a small hand grabs him by the ear, you sigh as Arin grabs his fathers hearing aid, tossing it up into the air, on instinct Grogu reaches up, holding it in place in the air.

“Kriff-“ Din grumbles, tilting himself to the side to roll Arin back onto the bed before getting up to retrieve his hearing aid.

“Kriff!” Lily speaks for the first time all morning, her voice like a little chime.

Din has a guilty smile plastered on his face as he looks at you, scooping both boys into his arms as he lays back down. They squeal and try to wiggle out of his arms but he only has eyes for you as he keeps them caged against him.

“She has a terrible mouth, just like her mother.” He whispers.

You roll your eyes, unable to fight off your smile as you set your girls down on the middle of the sheets, once free of your hold they waste no time before joining their brothers in using Din as a personal playground.

You don’t care that you all have to huddle together to fit on the bed.

You wouldn’t have it any other way.

☆

Socks, socks, socks, diapers, socks. They’re only going for an overnight but you can’t be too careful.

“Where are my little flowers?” You’re packing the overnight bag for as Din comes wandering in, putting on a real performance as he puts his hands on his hips. He stares at the ceiling as Lily squeezes between you and the table, hiding her face in your skirt as Daisy ducks under her crib, her yellow socks sticking out. He comes up behind you, wrapping himself around you as he sets several bottles into the bag you’re working on. “Have you seen my little flowers?” You hum softly as he kisses your cheek.

“I have not.” You turn grinning at him as he gives you an exaggerated sigh.

“That’s a shame, I wanted to see if they wanted to read with me for a little while…”

“M’right here!” Lily reaches out from the other side of you, grabbing his pant leg as he grins, reaching down to pick her up.

“Oh my goodness, would you look at that.” He grins, nudging the crook of his nose against the side of her face and kissing her cheek until she pushes him away.

“Itchy.” She whines, slapping him on the mouth.

“The stubble isn't going anywhere little lady, your mama likes it too much.” He raises his eyebrows at her, receiving a small frown in return. “Any other ladies wanna come read with me?” He speaks loudly, the little legs sticking out from under the crib don’t move so he shrugs, giving you one last look before taking Lily out to the living room.

“The coast is clear.” You go back to folding as your daughter wiggles her way back out, coming to stand beside you until you lift her up onto the changing table so she can watch you work. You hum different little songs to her, sometimes just a few notes, sometimes an entire melody, letting her hum and sing them back to you as you finish up, putting their blankets in last before you start dressing her to go. “Are you excited to have a sleepover at your aunties house?” She beams at you as you pull a thick jacket over her head, bundling her up as you tug a hat down over her ears.

“Yes mama.”

“Good, don’t forget to be extra well behaved.” You lace her little boots, lifting her up and setting her on the ground. “Aunt Elaine and Auntie Lysa are going back home later this month so you won’t see them for a bit.” You pat her head as she nods, her cheeks already going rosy from being a bit warm. “Now send in your sister so she can get changed.” She runs out of the room, calling out her sister's name and like clockwork you dress each of your children for the cold. As usual Grogu doesn’t want to wear his hat and fusses as you trim his nails but other than that it doesn’t take long before you’re ready to go. Wrapping a scarf around Din’s neck on the way out the door.

You don’t mind the walk, although with four kids it takes a little longer than it usually would. Din straps the girls into the carrier, holding Grogu in one arm and the large canvas bag in the other while you hold Arin. The cool autumn air filled with the sounds of babbles and chatter as you walk. Elaine and Lysa rent space on the outskirts of the city so you don’t even have to go deep into the afternoon foot traffic to get them there.

When you ring the doorbell you’re immediately swarmed by the excited pair. Lysa takes Grogu from Din in an instant as Arin squirms out of your arms to hug Elaine’s legs.

You’re happy to have family so close to home.

☆

It’s hard to not feel tired the moment you’re briefly child free.

The second you get home the couch beckons you towards it but you resist, you have plans for tonight. Din on the other hand, doesn’t fight his fatigue in the slightest.

“One whole night without kids.” You turn to grin at him but he immediately collapses into bed, pulling the covers up over his shoulders. You immediately yank it back down.

“No sleeping, we don’t do this often enough to spend what precious time we have sleeping.” He sits up enough to grab you and pull you down on top of him with a soft thud.

“We haven’t slept properly in about four years, let’s just sleep for a few hours, then we can spend the whole night together.” He mumbles, voice already groggy.

“We have to go soon, I want to see the lights.” You complain but turn your head to lay on his chest properly, happily soaking in some of his warmth.

You are tired.

And you do have a couple hours to spare.

“I suppose a couple minutes won’t hurt.” It’s still early in the afternoon and you don’t have plans until sundown, when you turn to see if he’s okay with that he’s already fast asleep. Eyes shut and lips slightly parted as his arms absentmindedly hold you tighter.

You lay back down his chest, inhaling the subtle scent of detergent on his top as you let yourself succumb to the exhaustion you rarely even let yourself acknowledge.

☆

You open the closet, taking the boxes sealed shut with locks and setting them on the bed.

You love your people, and you love being the queen, but sometimes you just want to be Din’s. You want to walk through the marketplace without being swarmed, you want to hold his hand under the moon without people asking who he is.

So every few months, when Lysa and Elaine take the kids for a whole night, you live in secret once more, just for a few hours.

You search through your dresser drawer until you find the key, twisting it in the lock before tossing it aside. You reach in, holding up the contents just as Din’s arms wrap around your waist. You jump a little bit, you hadn’t heard him come in.

“Do you miss it?” he murmurs.

“Sometimes. For the longest time this was all I knew you as.” You stare into the silver steel, looking at the two of you reflected against the beskar. “I prefer you without it though.” You set his helmet down onto the sheets before turning around in his arms, holding his face as you held the helm. “Do you miss it?”

“Sometimes. Never when I’m with you.” His lips rest against your forehead for a moment, content to just stay in that position for a while.

“We need to retire the nursery soon, the girls are getting too big for cribs.” you mumble.

“What if we want one more?”

“Last time we wanted one more we got two.”

“One more wouldn’t hurt.”

“They already outnumber us four to two.” You smooth out the fabric of his tunic with your free hand.

“Mhmm, I know. I’m just not ready to get rid of the cribs. When did they get so big?”

“Grogu’s still little.”

“He’s a little bigger now I swear.” You laugh softly kissing his cheek.

“That’s what kids do. They get bigger.” You release your hold on his shirt.“No more sad talk. We get one night alone every six months, I don’t want to spend it all melancholy.”

“Fine, fine.” He takes the helmet from you. “Finish getting dressed if you wanna get there before sundown.” You grab his flight suit from the box, tossing it to him just before he shuts the fresher door. Searching through the box you find your cloak, Leaving behind the weapon you’ve come to learn is called the darksaber as you get ready.

Lacing your boots and pulling the cloak over your head you give yourself a quick once over in the mirror.

Unrecognizable.

As you turn to face the now opening fresher door you’re hit with a wave of nostalgia. The dark brown fabric of his flight suit now accompanied by scraps of armor that you’ve purchased over the years. The only actual beskar items being his leg and helmet, a helmet that you let your sons decorate to keep him from being recognized, neither one of you willing to take the risk of someone connecting the dots regarding his identity.

Messy streaks of green paint run along the outline of his visor as he holds a hand out towards you. You eagerly take it, the two of you rushing outside to the bike, covered with a tarp.

You happily wrap your arms around his waist as he kicks the engine to life, wasting no time before shooting off into the trees.

You don’t mind living in secret as much as you used to, after all, it’s only temporary now. One night, every so often, isn't so bad. Especially now that it isn’t out of fear or necessity, now you do it simply for the sake of being unobserved. You aren’t exactly discreet about the fact that you are together. Although no one ever asks, it's more than apparent who the father of your girls is, and while nobody would dare question you about his parentage, Arin looks more and more like Din every day.

But sometimes you just want to walk with him without everyone thinking about those things.

So you wear different faces, and use different names, and go back to keeping secrets, just for a few hours.

Din brings the bike to a screeching halt in the ship lot, handing over a fistful of credits and taking your hand once more.

“Ready to go, Dorthea?” You can hear his big dopey grin as he drags you towards the bustling sounds of the vendors.

“Of course, Oskar.” You follow behind him as he continues to pull you onward, wanting to get there in time to see the lights.

It’s your favorite part of nights like these.

Every colorful light turns on one by one and somehow also all at once, the flickering and shimmering of the colors as you stare up at them, Din’s hand in yours. It takes a few minutes but when it’s done it’s like the night sky is entirely lit up, your own personal set of stars.

“Happy now?” He pulls you deeper into the markets while you nod, giving your hand a squeeze as you pull him towards the familiar stands, picking up a few different sweets and knickknacks as you always do.

You point and giggle at anything particularly dirty. Somehow, despite all this time and his anonymity in this situation he still manages to get flustered when you dangle leather instruments in front of his face.

His favorite part of nights like these is the music.

You wouldn’t have suspected it based on how stiffly he dances but he loves nothing more than rocking back and forth with you on the cobblestone street.

Tonight a string band plays upbeat music and the square is full of people moving in circles around each other as everyone moves to the beat. When you pull your eyes from the frenzy of swirling vibrant fabrics he stands with his hand out, as if he even has to ask for such a thing.

You wrap your arms around his torso as he spins you around, pulling you into the crowd, people parting to squeeze you into the space. You can’t speak, the music is too loud and you can’t see each other's faces but you still manage to remain in sync. He doesn’t wear gloves anymore, wanting to feel his hands against yours. You stay close, moving in sync, grins on your face as you press your veiled face against his helmet, wanting to be as close to him as possible. The lights shimmer against his armor, the beskar reflecting the lights as you move, colors melding together as his hands go from your hands, to your waist, then to your back, your bodies flush as you dance until you can barely stay upright.

You both stumble back into the cabin, giggling, giddy messes.

Tripping over each other as you get into bed, stripping layers off of each other in the process.

And he loves you like it’s the first time.

That’s how he always loves you now, never that panicked, fearful love where tries to take in every single drop of you for fear of never tasting it again. No, now he loves you like he can’t believe it. Every single time you unbutton your trousers or step out of your skirt he gawks like he’s never seen a pair of legs before. He’ll drop to his knees at the sight of your chest, no matter how many times he sees it. His devotion seemingly knows no bounds and as time carries on that fire refuses to die.

The only difference is that he isn’t afraid to love anymore.

And neither are you.

☆

The kids love the garden.

Maybe even more than you do. They’re careful, even when they’re chasing each other around in circles, to never step on the flowers. None of them are running now though, Grogu, Arin, and Daisy are all with you in the gazebo. It never ceases to amaze him just how easily you can calm them down. Grogu sleeps in the crook of your arm while Arin sits by your feet. Din watches as the little one pricks his finger on the needle he’s currently weaving in and out of the hem of your skirt. He doesn’t fuss though, he’s tough, just like his mother. He flinched before furrowing his brows and continuing his work. Daisy lays on her stomach on the other side of you, crayons are scattered across the gazebo floor as she colors in her notebook.

And you, in the center of it all, radiant, perfect, you.

Reading one of your romance novels.

Summer’s nearly gone now, the little ones are all bundled up in sweaters and scarves and you’re draped in a thick green shawl that you pull tighter around you as a crisp breeze blows by.

He’d stand and stare at you as long as you’d let him if a tiny hand didn’t reach up and pinch his jaw.

“Buir.” Lily snaps him back to reality.

“Yes, ad?” He looks down at her, seeing your eyes represented in the little girl in his arms.

“You’re starin’ at mama.”

“That’s awfully perceptive of you.” He hums as she looks around, a look of concentration on her face as she stares at the ground where she continues to speak to him.

“You say starin’ is rude.”

“I’m allowed to stare at mama.” He has to stifle a laugh as she scolds him.

“Why’s that?”

“Because we love each other.”

“If you say so.” She’s already lost in the conversation as she turns around in his arms, pointing at the yellow petals on their left. “Sunflowers.”

“That’s right, beauty.” He continues to carry her tucked in one arm down the path. “What about those?” He nods in the direction of a bushel of pink flowers.

“Tulips.” She’s always been so serious about the flora, just like you.

“Correct, brains.” He kisses the top of her head, brushing a stray curl out of her face as she points up ahead.

“Daisies.” She announces proudly, turning to him for approval.

“When did you get so smart?” He gives her a shocked look that makes her crack a smile.

“Mama taught me.” She states matter of factly as she crosses her arms.

“Well then, your mother is very smart.”

“Smarter than you.” He gasps as she giggles.

“That can’t possibly be true.”

He carries her over towards the daisies, pointing at the vibrant blue petals of the flowers beside them.

“I’m just as smart as your mother, look, these are roses.” He pokes her in the belly as she shrieks.

“No, buir!”

“Are you sure? Oh wait, you’re right, those are peonies.” He grins at her as she shakes her head wildly.

“Buir! They’re lilies!” Her cheeks go rosy as she giggles, he gives her a confused look, squinting at the flowers one more time.

“Are you sure? I’m almost positive those are daffodils…” He leans forward, kissing her chubby face as she continues to giggle.

“Is he being mean to you?” Your voice fills the air as he turns, you’re holding your skirt up as you walk towards them, holding your arms out for Lily.

“Me?” He says theatrically as he hands the squirming toddler to you as she reaches for her mother. “If anything she was being mean to me.” You always tell him that he was born to be a father, but you, when he looks at you he almost can’t believe just how good you are at it. Lily wraps her arms around your neck, she kisses your cheek as a tiny hand ever so carefully holds onto your necklace. With a small yawn, Lily buries her face in your neck as you smile, your eyes turning from your daughter to him.

“You know she said you’re smarter than me?” He whispers, wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Kids say the darndest things, don’t they?” You smile and it’s like his heart wants to burst from his chest.

“I’ll never get used to looking at you.”

You always say that as if he doesn’t know what that feels like. Everytime you so much as enter a room he feels the same as he did the first time he saw you.

“Where’s the rest of your ducklings?”

“I took them back to the cabin, Daisy was sleepy so I assumed this one might be too.” You rub Lily’s back, the little one is seemingly already asleep in your arms.

“Want me to take her back to the house?” He offers but you shake your head.

“I have to go get your present anyway.” You grin.

“I’ll be here.” He gives you a quick kiss before you turn in the direction of the house.

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t a little nervous. You’re annoyingly good at gift giving. Despite the fact that you have already given him the greatest gift he could possibly ask for in the form of three little ones and loving his own like you carried him yourself. You still manage to one up him every time.

While your competitive nature towards each other has lessened quite a bit from it’s initial amount it’s still a notable part of your marriage, anniversary gifts being the biggest competition of all.

The gazebo is empty when he returns to it, carefully stepping up onto the bench to reach into the rafters where he’s hidden your gift. He grabs the wooden box, stepping down just in time to watch you step inside with him.

“Can I go first?” Your fingers twitch as you nervously mess with your skirt. You look exactly the same as you did when you left which has him a little confused but still smiling.

“Sure.” He sets the box down behind him, hopefully out of sight as he turns back to you.

“Don’t be mad.” You have a sheepish smile on your face that already has him worried.

“What could I possibly be mad about?”

“You know how we always say that we aren’t going to use the seemingly infinite funds we have at our disposal?” You rock back and forth on your heels anxiously.

“Yes…”

“Because we don’t want them to be spoiled.”

“I’m not following-” He really isn’t.

“Well I may have gone the tiniest bit overboard, and we never said we couldn’t spoil each other.” You bite your thumb nail as you stare at him. “If you don’t like it we don’t have to use it.”

“I’m starting to get nervous, sarad.”

You reach into the pocket of your skirt, holding out a familiar little sphere.

“Grogu thought you might want this back.” You place the gear shift knob into his palm. “Happy Anniversary, Din.” He stares at you, bewildered as he rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. “Obviously it isn’t your ship exactly but it’s pretty damn close.” You muse softly and he nearly drops it.

“Wait- you, you got me a ship?”

“It’s in the lot by the markets we can go later-” He cuts you off, immediately wrapping his arms around you, squeezing you as he lifts you a few inches off the ground.

“You found another Razor Crest?” He’s breathless as he feels a rush of gratitude that only you can give him swelling in his chest.

“I built another Razor Crest.” You smirk, clearly pleased with yourself. “Grogu helped, of course, to make it authentic, and this one has less weapons and more child safety measures but other than that it should fly the same.”

“You brilliant woman.” He can’t help but stare at you in disbelief, how he has been blessed by you will always be a mystery to him.

“Now we can travel whenever you want, you always say you want to show them the galaxy.”

“I- I don’t know what to say.”

“Good, you talk too much.” You kiss him, he’s genuinely speechless, what do you do when the woman who has given you everything gives you more?

“Your turn.” He whispers, feeling even more nervous about his own gift now that you’ve given him what is quite literally the perfect gift.

He hands you the simple wooden box with a little latch to keep it shut.

“The failsafe?” You look up at him as he nods, popping clasp up as he opens it, holding it out towards you.

“How did you- when did you?” Your eyes are growing wet as you stare into the box before looking up at him.

“Took a little while to put it all together.” He murmurs, pushing the container into your hands until you finally take it.

“You kept all of this? All this time?”

“Do you like it?”

“Like it? I- It’s everything, Din, quite literally everything.” Tears flow freely now as you sniffle. You sit on one of the benches within the gazebo, carefully going through each and every item, looking more shocked than he was when you gave him your gift.

He’s glad you like it, after all, it took him a few years to put it together.

You sift through everything, wiping your eyes every so often as you do.

A plastic blue lily, wrapped in black lace. A silver anklet with gaudy sapphire jewels dangling from the clasp. Several sheets of parchment with ink illustrations on them. A handful of pressed and dried leaves. A couple of pink and gold buttons. And a candy wrapper.

The centerpiece of the gift being a rectangle wrapped in thin brown paper, tied with a green bow.

You hold it carefully, he watches as your fingers trace the ribbon.

“That’s your real gift, the rest is just some stuff I saved.”

“It’s a wonderful gift, Din.” You wipe a few stray tears on your shawl. “It’s all perfect.” You carefully peel back the paper until all that’s left in your hands is the tattered and worn book.

The Smitten Paladin.

He watches with a smile as you flip through it, realizing it isn’t any old copy of the book. It’s your copy. With his favorite color, and your rules written out within.

“Oh, Din.” He watches as your face scrunches up with emotion, the way it does when the kids hit different milestones, or when the two of you finally got married.

“How about we call this one a tie?” He can’t help but feel a sense of pride, finally finding you something on the same level as your gift. Of course it wasn’t an easy task to top a ship like that but a part of him can’t help but think that he couldn’t have found you a better gift than this.

“Actually…” You smile despite the puffy redness around your eyes and he groans.

“No actually, let me have this.” He pulls you to him, kissing the bridge of your nose first and then your lips, letting him indulge in you for only a moment before pulling back.

“Are you sure? It’s a pretty good gift, good enough to tip the scales.”

“Fine.” He sighs, an exaggerated look of defeat crossing his face.

“Close your eyes.” He doesn’t argue with you, shutting his eyes as you manipulate his arms so he’s holding his hands out, feeling something extremely light being set in his palms. “Now open.”

Socks.

Socks that are too small to currently fit any of his children.

His heart races as he holds the little brown booties in his hands.

“Are you serious?” He can feel his face getting hot, and his mouth going dry as he whispers, kneeling down in front of where you sit.

“We can manage one more member of Clan Mudhorn. This does mean we’ll have to keep the nursery for a few more years, and expand the cabin-”

“I’ll build you a dozen cabins if that’s what you want.” His brain moves at a million miles an hour as he stares in awe at the gift that is you. “Dank farrik.” He can’t help it as he whispers to himself, hands on your stomach.

“I win.” You tilt your head to the side, grinning at him as you take his face in your hands.

“You win. Every single day you win because you gave me them and you gave me this.” He lets you pull him up to meet you halfway, kissing him once more. His hands on your hips. “I love you, so kriffing much.”

“I love you.” You wrap your hands around his. How did he get this lucky? How is he deserving of this life you have given him?

He holds your hand when you walk back to the cabin, finding the children in the main room, making themselves a pillow fort as you rush to help them he watches from the sidelines.

He spent a lot of time watching you.

Watching you wander, and read throughout the castle.

It’s hard for him to believe that now he gets to watch you be a riduur and mother.

Because of you he gets to have a home.

Because of you he has a bed, and a house. Because of you he found his way back to Grogu, and now he has three more little ones and another on the way.

Because of you he can just be a man, a riduur, and a father.

With you he can just be Din.

☆

a/n : i'm like sick to my stomach with crying so that's cool lmao. i thought i would have more to say but this is it and i'm proud of it and i'm happy to have shared it. i can't believe i was lucky enough to have so many people to share this story with. from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #pedro pascal #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you

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tommysversion · 1 year

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I def see din as a girl dad, just imagining him living his little cottagecore dream with his son safe and sound and with little girls that have his dark hair and eyes <33 his heart would be so full and he’d love and protect his family with all he has. He’d train them to be strong warriors that proudly wear the symbol of clan djarin. The finale has me maladaptive daydreaming loll

Okay but same, anon. Same.

——

He can hear the children before he sees them; he’s around the back of the house, checking the crops, pulling up root vegetables and dumping them into a wheelbarrow.

Later, his love will cut those up. Stew some with some meat for dinner, and preserve the rest for winter. You’re handy in the kitchen, and he’s grown fond of the pickled vegetables that you love so much.

Wheeling the cart around the side of the house, he pauses to wipe the sweat from his forehead; it’s mingling into his curls again, but that’s alright. He’s long since gotten used to being slightly sweat damp, letting the sun further tan his olive skin to a deep bronze.

He sees Grogu first, splashing in the shallow pond a few feet from the house, using the force to send mud balls towards the girls.

They’re so alike that most struggle to tell them apart; there’s only a year between them, and they both resemble him far more than you. Both with his dark curls, his obsidian eyes, but they have your temper, your spirit.

Both girls hold small shields, gifts from Bo for their last new year’s turn. Giggling riotously, they try to deflect the mud being slung at them by their brother, until the youngest shrieks, scrapes mud from her shield and flings it right back.

All three children are drenched, covered in mud and water and laughing their heads off. It’s exactly the sort of childhood he didn’t get, but he doesn’t begrudge them a moment of it. This is what he meant, when he told his people they should fight, give their children a chance to play under the sunlight.

They might be playing around now, but he knows his children are strong. All three of them, and the fourth on the way will be, too. All three wear the symbol of his - of their - clan, the girls in gauntlets and necklaces, Grogu in his breastplate given to him by the Armorer years previously.

The baby will, too.

When the eldest spies him, she straightens immediately, shifting into the casually attentive stance he’s taught them; a warrior’s stance. Clearly, she isn’t sure what to think. Will her father disapprove of this horseplay when he values discipline, culture, tries to teach them to be warriors?

He kneels down as though to speak to her, waits until she’s looking at the ground, then scoops up a handful of mud and lobs it at her lowered shield.

When the four of them troop into the house an hour later, drenched in mud and laughing, the girls hanging off his arms and Grogu on his shoulder, you take one look at them and shake your head, fondly ordering them to take baths before they eat, muttering about just sweeping the floor.

Giving the girls a conspiratorial smirk, Din sneaks up on you, wraps his arms around you and plants a kiss on your cheek, smearing your dress with mud.

You shriek with laughter, chasing him towards the bathroom, the girls and Grogu howling with laughter as they watch their parents.

In short? It’s perfect. It’s the life he always dreamed of having, but never thought he’d get. And he wouldn’t change a thing.

#answered #my writing #my fics #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #Grogu #the mandalorian fic #pedro pascal character fic #pedro pascal #Star Wars #Star Wars fic

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talaok · 1 year

Text

Close your eyes

Pairing: Din Djarin x reader

Summary: After a few months of living in your new cabin on Nevarro, Din confesses to you he's ready to take the next step.

warnings: smut| oral sex (f receiving) and baby-making sex

[I know his name isn't Din but I couldn't bring myself to call him Djarin, sorry]

"he's getting really good at it" you sighed happily.

You and Din sat on the porch of the new cabin Greef Karga had granted you.

The air smelled fresh, the sky was beautiful as the sun set, and your head rested on Din's shoulder while his arm kept you close.

Grogu was "playing" with the frogs inhabiting the pond right in front of the house, although I'm not sure the frogs would have called it that.

Everything was alright.

After all this time, these fights, these adventures, everything was fine, actually, more than fine.

It was perfect.

"he is" he agreed, his thumb stoking your side "but he still needs training"

You scoffed "Please, he could beat you with a flick of his hand"

He laughed "he wishes"

"don't worry" you pretended to reassure him "There's no shame in being the least strong of the family"

"least strong?"

"weakest sounded mean" You bit down a smirk

"You think you could take me?"

"I know I could take you"

" Sweetheart, there's only one way you can take me," he said "and even for that you needed training"

you felt heat rise to your cheeks at the remark, and it was as if you could see the smug grin tugging at his lips even through the helmet.

"Don't flatter yourself mando" You placed a hand on his chest "there's many ways I can take you" you explained "What you're thinking of is just the one you like the most"

His hold on your side got tighter "I sure do like it"

"do you?" you mocked, raising a brow " Would have never guessed it" you giggled, hearing him chuckle also.

Your eyes trailed to the sun behind him, its light almost completely engulfed by the horizon.

"it's getting late," you said "The kid needs to go to sleep" You got up, walking to Grogu.

He didn't offer much resistance today, and you were able to pick him up with just an annoyed coo.

"say goodnight to Daddy" You stopped in front of the entrance, facing him towards Din.

He emitted the cutest sound you've ever heard, and as always, your heart warmed.

" 'night kid" he waved in return, before you stepped into the house.

In the few months you'd been living here you had managed to already make it a home.

Pictures and memories filled each shelf and empty space on the wall.

Grogu's room was small, but not any less full.

Din had built him a course where he could jump from the floor to the wall and to the ceiling thanks to some wooden panels.

The kid loved it. What was hard most times, was making him stop.

"alright" you smiled, setting him down into the crib Din had created for him "It's time to go to sleep sweetpea" You kissed his forehead, earning a happy coo "Sweet dreams" you whispered, glancing at him once more before turning to the door.

You almost gasped as you saw Din standing there, casually leaning on the side of it.

You shook your head, laughing a bit as you followed him outside, closing the door behind you.

"you scared me" you scolded him

"I'm sorry sweetheart," he said, stoking your cheek.

He paused for a second, like he was hesitant, before speaking again.

"you're really good with him," he said

"I know"

"I mean... you're good with kids"

"thank you?"

He let out a breathy laugh,

"he seems happy"

"well he's got a family" you smiled "We all do"

"right, but don't you think he's a bit..."

"What?"

"lonely?"

your mouth gaped open

"You mean...?"

"Maybe he needs someone his age to interact with"

"like a brother?" you intertwined your hands behind his neck, "you think we should give little Grogu a brother?" you grinned, not able to hide your excitement

You could hear his breathing from underneath the helmet.

he was nervous.

"would you like that?"

you paused, stunned at the fact he even had to ask.

"I would" you smiled so wide your cheeks hurt "I would really like that baby"

He let go of a sigh of relief, and you wondered for a moment, how long he'd been worrying about this.

He gripped your waist, his hands loving yet hard.

"then we better get to work" he smiled, not giving you any warning before picking you up.

A little squeak fled your throat as you grabbed onto him.

"Eager much?"

"you have no idea" he purred, kicking the bedroom door open and closed in one swift motion.

He sat on the bed and you ended up in his lap.

"Close your eyes, sweetheart"

You were just waiting to hear that.

It was such a simple sentence, and yet it meant so much.

It was the symbol of trust and passion, but most importantly, of love.

It was his way of saying he would trust you over anything, and your way of saying it back.

You closed your eyes, the world going pitch black once more.

You heard a familiar sound, and then something hit the ground,

his helmet.

Seconds passed, but the anticipation was so strong your skin felt on fire, and then, like water in the desert, came his lips on yours.

He kissed you sweetly, a way of thanking you, of loving you, and you kissed him back with everything you could.

Your hands went to his face, stoking and palming all you couldn't normally feel, while he was holding yours between his fingers like you were about to slip away.

"You're beautiful" he breathed, leaning back ever so slightly,

"you too" you smiled, making him laugh.

"you can't see me"

"I can feel you," you said "I know you're handsome"

He kissed you again

"I love you"

"I love you too" you promised, but were quickly cut off by your own gasp as he quite literally manhandled you so your back was on the bed.

"maybe give me a warning next time?" you chuckled, as you felt his hand on your thighs.

He was kneeling in front of you.

"oh but I like the pretty sounds you make" he kissed your skin

"do you?"

"I do" he kissed you again, his trail getting closer to the hem of your skirt "I like them a lot" another peck "Although I do like some other sounds you make better"

"Like what?" you asked playfully

He grabbed the end of your skirt "Like the ones you make when you're desperate for me"

"desperate?"

"yes, desperate" he murmured, pulling your skirt off.

Your mouth opened but you forced the gasp climbing your throat back from where it came from, making him chuckle.

"I'm never desperate"

You couldn't see it, but you could feel the smug smirk on his lips.

"Are you now, sweetheart?" he mocked, his fingers grazing your panties and making you hold your breath.

"I actually seem to recall many times where you were the one begging"

touché, he thought

"That's because you tease" he explained, his torturous fingers still just dancing on where you needed him the most.

"so you're telling me that I stopped touching you right now you'd be fine with it?" the bastard asked.

"Din..."

"What?" he kissed your clothed cunt "You wouldn't be desperate would you?"

you sighed, frustrated "No, just-"

"What, baby, what is it?"

"don't stop"

"why?"

God, you hated him so much.

You'd never taken back something so quickly, but he was able to do that. That taunting asshole.

"Because I need you" you confessed "Please"

He smirked "There she is"

You didn't even have time to breathe that your panties were off of you.

He spread your legs, and you had to bite your lips in anticipation as he gripped your thighs.

"you're so wet baby" he groaned, his breath fanning against your core.

"I wonder why, you bastard"

"Easy there" he kissed your clit, making you gasp "Wouldn't want me to stop,"

"Baby-"

he didn't let you finish as he finally dove in, his tongue tasting all of you before he started focusing on your clit.

"Oh my god" you whined, already a mess.

He was holding you firmly as your whole body begged to move.

"fuck baby, please" you moaned loudly, as he kept going unfazed.

It felt like a fire had started inside your body, and once his fingers grazed your hole, a bucket of gasoline spread it everywhere.

"din!" you cried once he pushed them in, your hand going to grip his hair.

"That's right, say my name sweetheart" he murmured as he pumped his digits in and out of you.

A filthy sound spread through the room, and you were shutting your eyes so forcefully you were seeing white dots.

"fuck, din" you breathed, feeling yourself get closer as he sucked your clit so perfectly.

His fingers curled inside of you, hitting your spot and making you cry, but his mouth didn't stop, licking and worshipping all of you.

"c'mon sweet girl, come for me, I know you're close" he murmured "I can feel it," he said, before resuming his work somehow even more intensely.

Shocks of pleasure kept coursing through you, but as he curled his fingers one more time, you were sent over the edge, your orgasm washing over you powerfully as you gripped his locks for dear life.

Who cares if you hurt him. He caused this.

"shit" You let out a breath, once you were done and he leaned away.

"You're so beautiful when you come honey," he said, taking your hand still on his head and kissing it softly " I wish you could see it" he murmured, leaning away.

You whined, reaching for him through the dark behind your eyelids "Where did you go?"

"I'm here baby" You heard some noises and then a louder one.

He had taken his suit off.

When you felt him again, he was holding your waist. Not for long, however, as his hands quickly started exploring your body, spreading goosebumps with his touch.

Then finally, you felt his digits infiltrate under your shirt, and in a moment, you were fully naked.

Next, his lips were on you, on your jaw, your neck, your collarbones, all painted with the sweetest of tiny pecks as he kept caressing your body.

One of your hands went to his back, keeping him close, while the other trailed down his bare chest longing for his manhood.

"please baby" you whined "I know I said I wasn't desperate before but I take it all back" you laughed softly "Please, I need you"

"You need me?" he kissed your mouth, and you nodded

"I do"

"I do too" he purred, kissing you again before positioning himself at your entrance.

"you ready?"

"please"

And just like that, he thrusted into you.

You moaned far too loudly as he groaned.

For as many times as you'd felt him, you could never quite get used to it, he still stretched you in the best way.

"god" he growled "you feel so good sweetheart" he started moving "You're perfect"

There were so many things you wanted to say, but his dick hitting you so deep was causing troubles to the communicating part of your brain.

"I can't believe you're mine" he spoke, "that you want this"

"of course I do" you moaned " I want to be yours Din" you cried "only yours"

The bed was creaking underneath you, and his thrusts were soft and sweet, but god if they weren't deep.

"I want to have your kid"

"you do?" his breath fanned over your mouth

"I do, Din" you promised "I want to have another mini-you that will help you make me go mad" you laughed "I want to have a bigger family" you breathed "to be yours, forever"

He couldn't do anything but kiss you, hoping that at least one percent of his adoration for you passed through.

"I love you more than anything y/n" he said "and I want to give you my kid" he swore "to see in them all I see in you" he continued, as his thrust continued undaunted "and to grant them the best mother one could ask for"

You smiled widely, feeling tears prick your eyes.

"then do, baby" You intertwined your hands behind his neck, bringing his lips to yours "give me your kid"

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captainkirkk · 9 months

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

fill in the blanks by mindshelter

"You?” Tim blurts. Holy shit. “You’re Kon?”

A nod. “Are you in any pain?” he asks again.

Kon’s skin is sun-kissed, cheekbones dusted with a fine smattering of freckles; he is, without exaggeration, the prettiest person Tim has ever seen. “No, I’m—great,” he says, fidgeting. “Do you, uh, come here often?”

Kon raises a brow. “To the medbay?” he intones. “Definitely more often than I’d prefer."

Fault Line by sElkieNight60 (+ podfic)

Part 1 of Tectonics

"You’re invulnerable…” he whispers, but it’s clear that fact falters in his mind.

Confusion writes its way into the lines on Conner’s face and Clark takes a step back as though physically pushed.

“You’re not invulnerable.”

It is a statement, dull like stone.

“N-no, sir.”

— 🦸 —

OR: Conner's not as invincible as Clark thought. Suddenly, he's a lot more human.

Danny Phantom x DC

The Business of Family by Spaced_Ace

Jazz remembered the way their parents loomed in the living room as they’d laid out that verdict. Ever-present weapons gleaming, standing in such a way that they blocked access to both the front and back entrances. Their eyes had been what struck her the most of that horrible tableau. What made her stomach fill with jagged stones and drenched her back in a frigid sweat. The way they looked at her little brother, their gazes cold and hollow and -

Hungry.

(Things are not well in Amity Park.

With the GIW getting more and more aggressive and their parents becoming ever more suspicious of Danny each day that passes, Jazz knows that they're running out of time. It's not safe, and their options are painfully limited. Out of sheer dumb luck or a little intervention from Clockwork, she manages to discover a distant relative that just might be their salvation.

If asked Oswald Cobblepot would say that it's just good business. Adopting a few kids had done wonders for Bruce Wayne's reputation, why not his? It's not like he can't afford to put them somewhere out of the way if they get to be a problem. It's just business. Nothing more.

(His soft heart says otherwise))

The Witcher

Words of Love by ForestWren

"I should warn you,” Jaskier said between kisses in the soft darkness of the shed, “That I know some… very interesting people. You may want to avoid meeting them.”

“I’ve dealt with the Redenian court for decades. Your friends can’t be worse than that.”

Five times Radovid meets Jaskier's friends and family, plus one time they are alone.

Star Wars x The Mandalorian

Master Skywalker: The Absolute Worst by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Din got to his feet. He patted Boba on the shoulder affectionately.

“You should watch the recording of Skywalker fighting the death troopers,” he said, then pressed a kiss to Boba’s cheek and told Grogu to stop eating his blocks.

Boba watched the recording. He was pretty sure he would never be the same again. He was positive that he never wanted to meet Skywalker ever again.”

Boba Fett falls for Luke Skywalker. It isn’t the funnest thing he’s ever done.

Original Works

Call Me Menace by wingedcat13

You, Synovus, are a respectably terrifying supervillain. Your main rivals, a pair of superheroes named Legionnaire and Athena, are actually respectable as heroes. You hate having to stoop to kidnapping their child - but you hate more what the kid's behavior implies.

if it don't hurt now (just wait a while) by quandaries_and_contradictions

Part 27 of mage in a wolf pack

When the hunters first take him, Jaime knows everything will be okay.

He’s scared, of course. He wants his mom and dad and little sister. But he knows it’s going to be okay — because the wolves who protect his town will come for him. Lada’s mother and father and papa won’t let the hunters get away with this. All he has to do is hold on until they get here.

Months later, he's not so sure.

Stranger Things

No One Rides For Free by weird_witchcraft

"Are you okay Harrington?” Eddie asks gently, “Need me to get anyone?”

“No one to get,” replies Steve, so soft Eddie barely catches it. “You think I want anyone seeing me like this?”

Eddie Munson stumbles across Steve Harrington crying next to a bush at Tina's party and makes it his mission to cheer him up.

Clone Wars

mirci't be uja by ihathbenobiwankenobied for whitchry9

Obi-Wan is usually good at keeping track of his blood sugar levels–because he has to be–but this time, it’s out of his control.

(Or, a diabetic Obi-Wan is thrown for a loop after crashing on an unknown planet. Stim does his best to keep his General alive)

#hopefully this makes your monday a bit better #weekly fic round up #my posts #sw recs #original works recs #stranger things recs #dc recs #dp recs #witcher recs #fic recs

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justanotherdinboshipper · 2 months

Text

Analysis: Dinbo Parallels between “The Heiress” and “Guns For Hire” also featuring "The Sanctuary"

This analysis marks my initial contribution to the Dinbo fandom, as I simply couldn’t contain my brainrots any longer. Below, I’ve outlined the intriguing parallels I’ve observed between these two episodes, both directed by Bryce Dallas Howard.

(I hope you like reading cause this is a long one but I hope my fellow Dinbo shippers would enjoy this brainrot)

Frog Lady and the Couple from Plazir

In a captivating discussion by @noorhal on this youtube video focusing on Dinbo, parallels between Bo-Katan and the Frog Lady were explored. Both characters share a similarity: they are the last of their family lineages. Bo-Katan herself highlights this fact during her introduction to Din.

In Trask, significant meetings unfold for both the Frog Lady and Bo-Katan. Just as the Frog Lady encounters her husband, laying the foundation for her family’s continuation, Bo-Katan crosses paths with Din. It’s not just the Frog Lady who found her significant other on that fateful day at Trask.

Howard employs another couple in “Guns For Hire” to echo the dynamic between Din and Bo: The Duchess and Captain Bombardier. This married pair rules over a domed city akin to Mandalore, with the Duchess representing royalty while her husband does not share her status. Exactly like Din and Bo; she’s Mandalorian Royalty while he is a Foundling.

And what’s interesting is that, both of these couples-the Frog Lady and Her Husband and the Duchess and her Husband, both looked after Grogu as both Din and Bo went on a mission together. Coincidence? I think not.

The Quarren and Mon Calamari

Another compelling parallel between “The Heiress” and “Guns For Hire” lies in the presence of Quarren and Mon Calamari characters in both episodes. Interestingly, these characters also reflect the evolving dynamic between Din and Bo.

In “The Heiress,” these two species are depicted as siblings. When Bo comes to Din’s rescue aboard the ship and Din pleads for Grogu’s safety, Bo’s reassurance—“Don’t worry, brother, we’ve got this”—underscores their Mandalorian kinship. Their relationship is rooted in camaraderie and mutual respect, devoid of romantic undertones.

However, in “Guns For Hire,” the Quarren and Mon Calamari are portrayed differently; they are not siblings but lovers facing an impending separation. This shift suggests that their relationship has evolved since their initial appearance in “The Heiress.” From the Mandalorian brotherhood dynamic, their bond has transformed into a romantic connection, albeit one that will be constrained by external circumstances.

The Darksaber

The closing moments of the “Guns for Hire” episode resonate with a subtle yet significant exchange between Din and Bo-Katan involving the Darksaber. As Din offers her the legendary weapon, there’s a palpable tension in the air, underscored by the deliberate slowness of their movements. Bo’s slow acceptance of the Darksaber from Din’s outstretched hands, coupled with his nod of acknowledgment, speaks volumes about the unspoken understanding and chemistry between them.

It’s noteworthy how Din, despite his reluctance to possess the Darksaber, diligently safeguards it, like the shifter ball cherished by Grogu, hoping one day to return both of them to their respective owners. He understands the significance of the saber to Bo-Katan. When Paz attempted to claim the Darksaber, Din fiercely defended it.

In “The Heiress,” Din initially shows little interest in Bo-Katan’s quest to reclaim the Darksaber from Moff Gideon. Despite her plea for his assistance, Din remains focused on his own priorities. However, in the closing moments of “Guns for Hire,” Din returns the Darksaber to Bo, fulfilling her long-standing desire and Din playing a huge part in achieving it.

Banter and Eyes

In “The Heiress,” Bo-Katan’s gaze holds a certain intensity when she looks at Din, hinting at intrigue or perhaps even attraction. Despite Din’s affiliation with a sect that she despises, Bo persists in urging him to join their mission to reclaim Mandalore. Her unwavering desire for his involvement suggests a level of fondness or admiration, even before witnessing his combat prowess firsthand.

The banter between Din and Bo-Katan in “The Heiress” crackles with tension, particularly when Bo changes the terms of their agreement. Her mocking delivery of “This is the way” leaves Din momentarily speechless.

In “Guns for Hire,” Bo’s demeanor towards Din retains a hint of the attraction evident in “The Heiress,” albeit with a softer, more tender undertone. Their banter remains, but it’s devoid of the sly mockery present in their earlier encounter.

Regrettably, the episode doesn’t afford us a glimpse into Din’s point of view, leaving us to wonder about his feelings towards Bo. However, the subtle shifts in their dynamic—from playful banter to a more sincere exchanges—suggest a growing connection that transcends mere partnership.

Flashbacks to Being Saved as a Kid

In “The Heiress,” a visual parallel unfolds as Bo rescues Din, their hands interlocking in a gesture reminiscent of a pivotal moment from Din’s childhood. This evocative imagery reinforces the idea of Bo as a savior figure in Din’s life, echoing the past trauma he endured and the subsequent salvation he found in Mandalorian culture.

Similarly, in “Guns for Hire,” another callback to Din’s childhood trauma is subtly woven into the narrative. Bo’s method of dispatching the battle droid mirrors the manner in which a similar droid was neutralized during Din’s rescue as a child.

The scene where Bo assists Din, helping him to his feet, further reinforces their connection. As their hands interlock once more, the camera lingers on the gesture.

The Sanctuary

Now let’s weave the themes of these two episodes to another episode directed by Howard in Season 1-Episode 4, “The Sanctuary”

In that episode, we encounter Omera, a potential love interest for Din. Interestingly, parallels emerge between this episode and “The Heiress.” In both instances, Din is presented with an invitation to stay or join a community, but his responses reveal nuanced differences in his character development.

With Omera, Din’s refusal to stay is resolute, rooted in his belief that he doesn’t belong. However, the episode hints at his underlying desire for connection and love, albeit conflicted by his adherence to the Mandalorian Creed and the dangers of his chosen profession or way of living.

In contrast, Bo’s offer in “The Heiress” carries a different weight. While Din doesn’t immediately accept, his response isn’t a flat rejection either. He acknowledges his current obligations with the Child but leaves the door open for the possibility of joining Bo in her cause in the future. Bo’s willingness to wait for him underscores her respect for his choices and her understanding of his priorities.

This theme of commitment and prioritization continues in subsequent episodes in Season 3. In “The Mines of Mandalore,” Din reiterates his need to fulfill his obligations before going with Bo. “I cannot go with you until I fulfill my obligation.” I don’t think that’s just a reply to Bo’s offer to take him back to his ship in Kalevala. It’s hinting at something more.

By the time “Guns for Hire” rolls around, Din’s presence alongside Bo on their mission to find her fleet speaks volumes. Without explicit confirmation, it’s evident that he has accepted her offer, joining her in her plans to reclaim Mandalore.

The Evolution of Din Djarin’s Priorities and Commitments

Throughout “The Sanctuary,” “The Heiress,” and “Guns for Hire,” Bryce Dallas Howard skillfully illustrates a theme: the evolution of Din Djarin’s priorities and commitments. In Season 1’s “The Sanctuary,” Din’s paramount concern is ensuring the safety of the Child while remaining true to his creed and his job as a bounty hunter. Despite hints of his yearning for love and family, these desires remain secondary to his duties.

As the narrative progresses into “The Heiress” in Season 2, Din’s focus shifts towards reuniting the Child with its own kind, while maintaining his dedication to his creed and his newfound duty as the Child’s guardian. Though the bond between them deepens, Din remains hesitant to fully embrace the idea of the Child becoming his family.

However, “Guns for Hire” marks a significant turning point. Despite the absence of a clear transition scene between The Pirate and this episode, Din’s unwavering support for Bo-Katan’s mission to find her fleet speaks volumes about his evolving priorities. While he was not explicitly tasked with this mission, his decision to accompany Bo demonstrates that her cause has become his own, and his commitment to her is unwavering.

Whether Bo asked for his assistance or he offered it willingly, the underlying truth remains unchanged: Din’s loyalty lies with Bo, and her priorities have become his own. This subtle yet profound shift in allegiance underscores the depth of their bond and Din’s willingness to prioritize their shared goals above all else.

In “Guns for Hire,” subtle yet significant cues suggest a potential shift in Din Djarin’s openness to romance. Through his ongoing training of Grogu and his growing acceptance of the concept of family, Din demonstrates a newfound willingness to embrace deeper connections. The thematic elements of love are reinforced by the planet’s name, “Pleasure,” and the presence of two couples intertwined with the narrative. Additionally, the reminder from the droid that “life is short” displays the fleeting nature of time and the importance of seizing opportunities for connection and companionship. These subtle hints, woven seamlessly into the episode’s fabric, suggest that Din may now be more receptive to exploring romantic possibilities in his life. Beyond mere fan speculation, this narrative development reflects the skillful storytelling of Bryce Dallas Howard and the talented writers behind these three episodes, they are geniuses.

#dinbo #din djarin #din djarin x bo katan kryze #din x bo #the mandalorian #bo katan x din #din x bo katan #bodin #bokadin #this is the way #this ship is the way #Am I way too late for this analysis?#Howard is obviously a Dinbo shipper #mandalorians are stronger together

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beskarandblasters · 6 months

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Me and My Husband

Chapter Seven: I Know Who You Pretend I Am

Married!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Synopsis: Din Djarin is doing what any typical Mandalorian would be doing after reclaiming Mandalore, finding a riduur and settling down. He’s still a member of the Guild on Nevarro, taking bounties here and there to support his new family. But when he meets you while you’re working the front desk at an inn on Naboo, he finds himself hooked, feeling like he’s found something new and exciting in his now mundane life. How long can he keep up appearances with his riduur? And how long can he keep his little secret with you?

Series warnings: reader is able-bodied, set post season 3, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), some liberties taken with Mandalorian culture/weddings/marriages, infidelity, eventual smut (chapter two!), switches between Reader and Din's POV, no use of y/n

Author’s note: This chapter is a bit different than the others. Instead of being in Din’s or Ca’tra’s point of view, we’re visiting May’s point of view. It may not seem super important but there’s something at the end of this chapter that’s vital to the plot.

Chapter summary: A day in the life of May.

Word count: 1.8k

Chapter warnings: angst, talks of menstruating and having children, talks of infidelity

May

While Din is away for what feels like the millionth time, May wakes up in bed alone. Last night she had the most vivid dream of her and Din having a baby together. Grogu became an older brother and Din was the loving and doting father and husband she knows he has the potential to be. The dream felt so real. But when she wakes up in the morning she’s hit with the reality she’s living in now, a bleak lonely life.

She gets out of bed and feels a warm wetness between her legs. She looks down and sees her period staining her inner thighs. She’s… disappointed and doesn’t really understand why. She told Din she wasn’t ready yet, which is true. But the dream has her longing for a reality that’s so far out of reach, it’s clouding her judgement.

She gets Grogu up for the day, alone. Aren’t you supposed to share these tasks with the father of your children? Why is it always left up to her she wonders. Not that she minds. She’s grown quite close with Grogu in Din’s absence. Thank the Maker for him because if it were just her home alone in this empty house she would go crazy.

She sits at the kitchen table and lets her mind wander…

Is Din really where he says he is?

Grogu’s eating his breakfast and babbling happily beside her. She’s not eating anything herself because she hasn't been able to shake the feeling that Din’s lying to her. She’s not sure what he’s lying about but he’s been acting suspicious ever since he came back from his first bounty since getting married.

She sees the way other riduurs interact and when she compares it to her and Din’s marriage she feels a sense of longing; longing for something others have that she doesn’t. She wonders if she’s trapped in a one-sided marriage, one where she will always be the one trying harder, doing more, loving unconditionally, and not receiving the same treatment back.

No, that’s silly, May thinks to herself. Din’s a hardworking man, always putting his family’s needs above his own, spending his life crossing the galaxy to make ends meet, to put food on the table, to make sure they’re safe.

She tells herself this yet she can’t shake the nagging feeling in the back of her mind.

He’s lying to you, May, the voice tells her.

She puts the voice in the back of her mind for the moment and goes about her day. She takes Grogu to play with some of the other younglings while the parents stand by and chat. It’s always pairs of riduurs together except for her, always alone. And they’re always affectionate with each other. She feels out of place here but she shouldn’t. She belongs here just as much as the others do yet she feels like she’s missing an essential piece of the puzzle.

After playtime she tends to the garden, gathering ingredients for tonight’s dinner. Dinner for two always, rarely ever for three. Grogu sits on a rock and watches her harvest the vegetables. She looks at him and wishes he could talk, wishes she could have some conversation other than her inner monologue. He’s better than no company and she truly loves him with all of her heart. He’s been the only blessing in this riduurok.

Once the ingredients for dinner are collected she heads to the village center to trade with some of the other families, feeling the same sting as she did before when she sees pairs of riduurs together. The ones who don’t wear their helmet can’t hide their looks of pity when they see her alone, only with Grogu at her side. It makes the tips of her ears hot with embarrassment, but she’s grateful for her helmet in moments like these.

And that takes her until dinner, sitting beside Grogu and feeling a sullen, empty feeling. This wasn’t how she pictured her life going. And now that she’s alone and not necessarily busy, the voice comes back.

He’s hiding something from you, the voice tells her.

She could sit here and argue with herself back and forth, sending her down a maddening downward spiral. Or she could confide in someone. Maybe the Armorer? Maybe Bo-Katan?

Literally, anyone if it’ll spare her from going mad.

Bo-Katan will do. She’s the closest thing May has to a friend anyway.

Once Grogu’s done with his food, she scoops him up into her arms, replaces her helmet on her head, and leaves. As she walks to Bo-Katan’s house in the night, she thinks about how she shouldn’t even have to be doing this. She shouldn’t have to confide in someone with her doubts about her marriage.

She knocks on the front door and thinks of how she’s going to phrase this to Bo. There’s no easy way to say… what exactly? She hasn’t even admitted to herself what her true suspicions are because she’s afraid of the answer.

But as soon as the door opens she blurts out, “I think Din’s having an affair.”

Bo’s eyes widen and she motions for May to come inside. They sit at Bo’s kitchen table together with Grogu in May’s lap.

“So… why do you think he’s having an affair?” Bo-Katan asks hesitantly.

“Well, he’s… he’s so withdrawn from me. We’re never intimate. He never tells me he loves me. He’s not affectionate. And I mean I know he’s not really the affection type but-”

Bo sighs. “Look May… I had a suspicion but I didn’t want to impose.”

“I didn’t even tell you the worst part.”

“Oh?”

“A few rotations ago, before he left again, we were about to have sex and he asked to keep our helmets on.”

“…What?”

“Yeah, he said he thought it would be hot but that had to be a lie… Right?”

Bo takes a deep breath and says, “If you think he’s cheating you should bring it up with the Armorer. He’s not just betraying you, he’s betraying his family, his clan, his creed”

“And you think I should go to her?”

“Well, I-”

“If you were me in this situation, what would you do?”

After a pause for consideration, Bo says, “I would tell the Armorer.”

“It’s settled, then,” May sighs, “Will you… Will you go with me?”

“Of course,” she says, offering a sympathetic smile. She leans forward and pats May’s gloved hand resting on the tabletop before leaving her house and leading the way down to the forge.

The walk there is silent, an uncomfortable tension hanging heavily in the air. May feels bad for this all of a sudden. She feels bad for putting Bo-Katan in the middle of their drama. Yes, she considers Bo a friend but Bo was also Din’s friend, too. She helped him rescue Grogu from Moff Gideon. She saved him from drowning in the Mines. He brought her back to the covert when her palace was destroyed. Surely she feels uncomfortable being in this situation. And if she does, she’s doing a good job at hiding it.

They arrive at the forge, the Armorer working on something when they get there. She seems busy even this late at night.

Kriff, maybe this was a bad time, May thinks to herself. But then again, there’s never a good time to accuse your riduur of cheating in front of a well-respected member of the tribe. And if there’s anyone who will know what to do, who will offer some sort of guidance; it’s her.

“Bo-Katan Kryze. May Djarin. What brings you two here?”

“May has come here to tell you of her suspicions that Din is violating the terms of their riduurok.”

“How so?” she asks with a curious tone in her voice.

“I think… I think he’s having an affair.”

“I see,” the Armorer says, setting down whatever she’s working on.

“I don’t need to know why you think this. But this is a serious accusation to make. If this is true, he will become an apostate again. Are you certain he needs to be questioned?��

May takes a moment to think this over to herself and concludes that yes, he needs to be questioned. It will pain him to become an apostate again but he’s the one who made his choices and now he gets to suffer the consequences. May thought that the pain of Din being an apostate would prevent him from doing anything that would risk his creed. But clearly, he’s thinking with something other than his head. And why should she have to suffer because of his mistakes; his wrongdoings?

“Yes,” she nods, visor locked on the Armorer’s.

“It is settled then. Din Djarin will be questioned about the accusations that he’s breaking the terms of his riduurok. Where is he now?”

“Off planet for a bounty,” May says.

“Once he is back, bring him to me.”

May and Bo-Karan nod and the Armorer returns to the project she was working on. May takes a deep breath as she leaves the forge with Bo, a mix of emotions swirling her stomach. On one hand, she’s relieved this will be officially investigated. But on the other hand, she’s afraid of what's to come from it.

Once they’re back out into the village Bo asks, “Are you going to be alright?”

“I think so,” May sighs.

“I don’t want you to be alone until he gets back.”

Just as Bo says that, Grogu makes a noise, looking up at May.

“I won’t be alone. I have him,” May says, patting Grogu on the top of his head.

“Well, don’t hesitate to stop by if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” May responds with a tip of her helmet before they part ways.

Din proves to be gone several rotations. He hasn’t sent a transmission but he usually doesn’t. At first, May attributed that to him just forgetting that Mandalore can send and receive transmissions now. But that was back when May was lying to herself. Now that she’s admitted to herself and others that Din may be having an affair, the sugarcoated answers she would tell herself before are starting to slip away.

He’s not where he says he is. He’s making up thinly veiled excuses as to why he’s gone for so long. There’s a reason he doesn’t want to be intimate with her. There’s a reason he doesn’t tell her he loves her or why he doesn’t tell her she’s beautiful. There’s a reason he wanted to have sex with the helmets on. That’s been the hardest pill for her to swallow. It’s either because he’s too guilty to even look May in the eye or it just makes it easier for Din to pretend May is someone else… you, whoever you are, wherever you are in the galaxy. You took her riduur from her. And she decides that you can have him. That is if he’ll be able to live with himself after losing his creed. Only time will tell.

End note: As if we needed any more reasons to feel bad for May 🤪

Chapter Eight

Graphic by @nostalxgic

Banners + divider by @saradika

MAMH tag list: @wannab-urs @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @catchallfangirl @noxturnalpascal @nervoushottee @mandoisapunk @pr0ximamidnight @angel-in-beskar @littlegrungegirlaf @pamasaur @love-the-abyss @dameron-grant-spector @xdaddysprincessxx @drewharrisonwriter @milly-louise @engie115 @survivingandenduring @unit-1021 @rentaldarling @missladym1981 @csarab615 @swiftiegirliepop @spookyxsam @jbb-sgr @sarap-77 @kittenlittle24 @pedroslittlelady @decembermidnight @devineconjuring @handspunyarns @harriedandharassed @midnightnoiserose @jbb-sgr

#din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #star wars fanfiction #star wars #starwarsficnetwork #pedrostories #pedro pascal character fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #mamh

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