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pedropascalsx · 2 years

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Target Practice {Din Djarin x F! Reader}

Summary: You get distracted by the Mandalorian cleaning his weapons, and he can see right through you and what you’re needing from him.

Warnings: Gun kink, gun fucking, weapon fucking, p in v sex, creampie, mentions of oral, slight fingering, breastplay and some dirty talk. Please tell me if i’m forgetting anything. - obvious canon divergence. Canon? we don’t know her. No use of y/n.

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: So as usual I am a little nervous about posting this but I had so much fun writing it, I really hope y’all enjoy it and if you did please let know! I love hearing your feedback. I am REALLY trying to improve on my writing and my smut, i promise!!!

Shoutout to my best girl @djarinispunkk for beta reading this for me. Shoutout to @prolix-yuy for being the best supportive enabler and helping convince me to run with this idea.

And shoutout to my girl @pedrito-friskito for being the sweetest person alive; i love you to pieces - happy birthday, i hope you enjoy this.

He could spot it from a mile off - he was certain he would be able to even without zooming in on his helmet - a look that was reserved just for him, a look that you were sure only he could bring out in you. A look that said more than your timid self could muster to say aloud, one that was drenched in want and lust. The first time you had given him that look, he had all but ran across the hull to you, whispering ‘are you sure?’ into your ear and then ripping your dress over your head in one clean sweep the moment you replied with a breathy ‘yes’. He’d taken you entirely by surprise; he was gentler than you’d anticipated, and it seemed to surprise him just as much. You’d found him leaving the door to his room slightly ajar for you every night since. The conversation still slow but day by day, he revealed more and more to you. Most the time he’d just ask questions, little things to get to know you more and more, and when you’d ask the same back, you’d get a nod or a short reply. Some days he wouldn’t ask you a thing, he’d keep himself as quiet as he needed to and communicate with the tiniest of touches: letting his hand linger on the bottom of your back, or resting his hand on your thigh for a few seconds before letting it go with a quick squeeze. The last time you’d given him this specific look was when he was taking apart one of his guns; you were mesmerised, watching him methodically take apart each piece and polish it until it gleamed perfectly. It wasn’t until you’d realised his hands had stopped moving entirely that he’d caught you staring, his helmet poised with a slight tilt. He stared back intently behind the beskar and your breath hitched as you realised that you’d been caught. You couldn’t see them, but you felt the burning gaze of his eyes burrowing into you, seemingly reading the filthy thoughts floating around your brain.

Before you could speak, a wordless command in the form of his finger pointing towards his cot was sent your way. On shaky legs, you immediately made your way into his room and removed your clothes. He always liked it when you were ready, not wanting to waste time in removing your layers – he likes when you’re bare. Bare and waiting for him. Ready for him to strip off his gloves and run his rough calloused hands all across your body, silently aching behind layers of beskar for you to do the same to him. You were sure that he’d never allow it, honestly you weren’t sure he could. So utterly devoted to his creed.

His hands were one of two parts of him that he’d revealed to you. He’d gotten into the habit of removing his gloves the minute his kid was snoozing soundly in his crib, waiting for you to notice and to slide your hand into his. You also loved the way he wasted no time in pulling you to the bottom of his bed, spreading your legs so he could slide in between them and tapping your thighs in the form of a command for you to wrap your legs around his waist. Only then would he begin to run his hands all over you, taking his time to squeeze and play with your tits. Telling you how badly he wanted to suck them, run his tongue across them and bite down until you squealed beneath him. But this time was different, he breathed out the usual ‘good girl’ at seeing you spread bare for him, the two words he knew went straight to your core and made you leak arousal for him. He kept his hands to himself, his helmet tilting upwards and back down again as he took in the sight in front of him in.

“You look so good like this” he grunted, before finally reaching down to run his palms up and down your thighs. Spreading your legs, a little further before slotting himself against you, gripping up to your hips to stop any movement until he’s ready, “Tell me what you were thinking when I was fixing my gun back together, sweet girl.” His cock twitches as your breaths become shaky and your chest heaves up and down. He’s always more vocal when you’re like this, always more giving with words when he’s got you where he loves you the most. “Tell me, don’t make me ask again,” he growls out. You feel your core clench down around nothing with a desperate need. “I was thinking… thinking about how it-it would feel” you murmur, your voice small and shaky as he runs his thumb across your cheekbone.

“How it would feel where, baby? Tell me what you want.” You bite down on your lip as his fingers trail down your torso, just lightly sweeping against your skin until he gets to your core. A finger slightly circles the area beneath your belly button before he drags it down to the top of your slit, millimetres away from where you want to feel him the most, waiting until you give him the answer he is chasing.

“In-inside of me,” you splutter out, and he rewards you with a firm press against your bundle of nerves. “Good girl.” he grits out as he starts to draw circles around your clit, “You want it, sweet girl?” he asks as he reaches behind his back and pulls out the very rifle you had been focusing on minutes before. “Yes,” you moan as he continues working your clit. “Safe word or hit down on the bed if you need me to stop” he says whilst dipping two fingers into your entrance, gathering up as much slick onto his fingers before removing them and spreading it down the barrel of his gun. You groan as he removes his hand from your core and places it on one of your thighs, spreading you open a little more before rubbing the cold metal against your clit.

“You ready?” You nod your head ferociously as he moves the gun down slowly through your folds, until it reaches your entrance and he pushes it in, relishing in the soft moans escaping your mouth as the barrel breaches you more and more.

“Play with that pretty little clit,” he orders as he slowly starts to pump it in and out, studying your face as it contorts in pleasure and the pretty little sounds you make escape through your plump lips. He fucks you with his gun until he feels your pussy grip hard around it, until your eyes roll back into your head, and you beg to feel his cock filling you instead. He then flips you on your stomach and thrusts his achingly hard cock in and out of you until you’re a quivering mess, pussy lips sore and swollen from being railed into his cot and your bundle of nerves trembling from overstimulation. He left for a hunt the very next day and didn’t return for almost 10 days. He had told you he wanted to watch you fuck yourself with his gun the very first night he returned, but he quickly pulled it away and pressed himself into you, the gun quickly forgotten about.

And now you find yourself stood in the hull of his ship, your fingers tracing his pulse rifle. Feeling the cool metal against your fingertips as you run them slowly up and down the prongs. You’d never been brave enough to touch it before, knowing the power the rifle holds and having seen his disintegrate threats with it in a single blast, but today you couldn’t keep away. Memories of his gun rubbing that sweet spot inside of you replaying in your head, over and over as you dripped your arousal into your panties.

You couldn’t help but wonder how this would feel. How Mando would look draped in his armour as he stood over you again fucking you with another one of his weapons.

A gloved hand squeezes your shoulder, and you jump at the unexpected intrusion, so lost in your own filthy thoughts you didn’t hear him enter, “S’okay baby” he groans into your ears, a hand sneaking around your front and down to cup your mound, “You’ve seen what that one can do, sweet girl, I don’t think you could handle this one” he whispers. “I can handle it” you reply sounding braver than you’d expected to, “I want you to fuck me with it, Mando.” “Go get ready for me, sweet girl.”

You slowly walk towards his room, and just before you get to the door, you spin around to face him. Keeping your eyes on the visor of his helmet as you reach up to pull the straps of your dress off of your shoulders before letting it fall down around your ankles. You swear you hear a shaky breath escape through his modulator before you reach back and unhook your bra, swiftly pulling it down and letting it join your dress on the floor. You take a small step forward before dipping your fingers into the waistband of your panties and you slowly start to pull open the door, slightly swaying your hips as you do so. You step out of your panties slowly, and instead of letting them drop to the floor you let them hang from your index finger and you reach your arm out for him to take them from you.

You watch his chest plate rise and fall for a few short moments before he takes two long strides before you and snatches the flimsy lacy material from your finger. A smart contented sigh leaves your lips, and you hear him mumble something about not getting them back as you enter the room and lower yourself onto the bed you share. “Such a dirty, dirty girl” he groans as he sees you laid bare and waiting, “Fuck, you’re dripping, baby girl.” Your breath hitches as he lays the pulse rifle down beside of you, “Not yet, gotta get you ready first” he says, sensing your anticipation.

He holds his hands out in front of your face, and you take the silent order to remove the gloves as quickly as possible, the moment the first one is free he takes the opportunity to run his fingers across your cheek. “Such a pretty girl,” he murmurs before pulling the other free from your grip and plunging a thick finger inside of you, praising the way you clench around his digit immediately.

“Good girl, baby,” he coos as he slowly pumps it in and out, over and over until you’re begging for more. Eventually, he adds a second and reaches up to grab your own hand, moving it down to your clit. Your soft mewls fuel his need for you to cum on his fingers, and he orders you to rub your clit harder as he roughly palms at your breast with his free hand. You whimper the only name he had given you as you clamp down onto his fingers, vision blurred and seeing stars as he praises you throughout your high.

“You sure you want this?” he asks, gripping your jaw gently as he studies your face. “I do.” “And you’ll use the safe word if you want me to stop?” “Yes, Mando. I promise.” “Good girl.”

He reaches down to pick it up and you watch as he slowly studies his weapon, trying to work out the best way to do this, the way to do this without potentially harming you. He keeps his hand off of the trigger and holds it tentatively with both hands. After watching him think for a few moments about how to do this, you carefully reach down and guide the rifle towards you, keeping it straight as you encourage him to push the bottom prong inside of you as the top slides across your bundle of nerves.

“Fuck yourself down on it” he orders, “I’ll keep it still, baby. You cum on this and then you’ll cum on my cock.”

You keen over his words, and the way he lets the sweet endearments he keeps just for you slip out when you’re at your most vulnerable for him. Slowly, you move your hips, rocking downwards slightly and gasping at the way the cool metal feels against your clit. Your pace increases as you get used to the feeling, moaning louder and louder as the prongs rubs against the spongey spot inside of you and across your clit at the same time. You can see how affected he is at the sight laid out in front of him by the obvious tenting on his pants; you desperately feel the need to reach down and palm him he’s too far away. Desperate whimpers and moans fly freely from your mouth. “I know baby, I know” he soothes as your orgasm builds up inside of you, “I’ve got you, baby.” “I n-need… I need you, Mando” you stammer, as blinding pleasure explodes behind your eyes and you fuck yourself down harder and harder throughout your orgasm, chanting his name over and over as he continues to tell you that you’re his good girl, his and no-one else’s. The moment you come down from your orgasm, he slowly removes the blaster from your heat, discarding it as quickly as he can before freeing his almost painfully hard length from his pants. “My mouth,” you stutter as you attempt to pull yourself up, but a strong arm pushes on your shoulder to keep you laid down.

“Next time, baby… I need to be inside of you. Fuck. Need to feel that warm, tight pussy cum around my cock.” More arousal drips from your core as he continues letting filth drip from behind his helmet. You watch as he pumps himself a few times before dragging the tip of his cock through your folds, hovering at your entrance for a few seconds before filling you in one swift movement. Heavy breaths run through his modulator as he lets you adjust for a few moments.

“Look at you, so fucking perfect. My perfect sweet, sweet girl. Always so good to me. Always taking my cock so fucking good. Maker, how did I get so lucky as to stumble across you?” Before you can say anything back, he rolls his hips back and starts thrusting back into you. Your hands grip on to the cold beskar draping his shoulders as he fucks himself into you at an unforgiving pace, hitting that sweet spot with perfect precision. You squeeze down around him, choking out as his name as the feeling of euphoria begins to build inside of you; with each calculated and rough thrust, you feel the course patch of his pubic hair brush up against your clit and as you whimper his title, he whispers a simple one syllable word into your ear. “Din.”

“Din?” you repeat back to him. “Scream it, baby, as loud as you need to.” His name, you realise. His name. Din. “Din” you moan over and over, and you feel the affect it has on him - the way his shoulders seem to relax and the way his hands palm your breasts a little bit softer as he coaxes your next orgasm out of you.

You feel a gush from between your legs as you begin to soak him with your pleasure, before clamping down and screaming his name as you cum. He follows shortly behind as he thrusts in and out, painting your walls with his cum as he does so. “Fuck” you blurt out with a giggle, “That was… incredible.” “You are incredible” he says with a smirk that you can’t see but you can hear as he rolls down beside of you. You breathe out another tiny giggle as your hand slides into his. “It’s kind of perfect. It’s nice. Simple.” “What?” “Your name. Din. I like it.” “I like hearing you say it.” He says as he squeezes your hand three times. “I think you like hearing me moan it more.” “Mhm. Next time you moan it, it’ll be because my face is buried between your thighs.”

You gulp at the promise leaving his lips; never before has he tasted you, never before as he taken his helmet off around you, but the idea of finally feeling his lips against yours makes your heart stutter. You don’t press him on it, instead you snuggle up next him; letting the coolness of his beskar soak into your warm skin as he wraps his arms around you.

Letting him fuck you with his weapons was the best idea you’d had in a long time.

#pedro pascal #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #din #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #my fanfic #my fanfiction #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x original female character

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livingemkayde · 11 months

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Twin Moons - Chapter Seven: The Song

Series Summary:

when you meet a Mandalorian on the sands of Tatooine, for some reason you both can't stay away. even through all the pain—you keep coming back to each other. it's all you know how to do.

Chapter Seven: The Song

Notes: Ummmmm. No notes for this chapter other than ur not fucking ready. PLEASE ENJOY.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive f!reader

Series warnings: *Although this chapter may not contain graphic content, this story is rated 18+ due to graphic depictions of violence and sexual scenarios.*

Warnings: This chapter is rated mature (18+) for graphic sexual content (Fingering, f!receiving). Not much else.

Summary: He trails his hand up your leg, bunching the fabric along with it, his touch soft on your skin. He reaches further, passing by your knee and you close your eyes, bite your lip and involuntarily let out a small whimper. His head snaps up to meet yours when your soft sounds echo through the room, but it only spurs his hand up.

Masterlist Chapter Five Chapter Six

Some months later.

Beep…

Be–

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath as you slam your hand down on your alarm clock.

You sit up from your bed in the dark room. It's late. You can tell. You see the strewn clothes around your room and your blaster and viroblade sitting at the foot of the bed on a chest. You rub your tired eyes and move to use the refresher.

As you wash your hands the bite of cold water shocks your system. Fuck. You groan, finish drying your hands quickly and move towards the bedroom to put a sweater on. As you move to the closet, you see it in the corner of your eye. The black fabric seems to glow to your sight in the darkness of the room. You push it to the back of your mind.

You get dressed quickly, and step out into the dark night sky and make your way to the cantina. You pull your hair into a small bun at the base of your neck—baby hairs falling loosely down your neck and around your face. It's a cold night, the wind rips through your skin and you brace your jacket further around your body.

You enter the cantina, travel to the back and put your apron on to begin the night shift.

Bartending—what a fucking joke.

But you needed credits.

After Davin—his followers seemed to scatter in the wind when someone tipped the New Republic he was dead. They raided the place, ransacked the spice, released the prostitutes working, freed the prisoners you didn’t even know he was harboring in the dungeons.

After that, you fled to the upper levels, looking for work in a much more approachable cantina. A cantina hired you for bartending. He said you were pretty enough that he would let it slide if you didn’t have any experience.

You met someone who worked with the New Republic and made friends with him—a regular at the bar. Just to get them off your back until everything died down. And it did die down. No one ever sought to question you—to the New Republic, you were some lowly servant girl looking for work after escaping her home planet. No one would know and you would keep it that way.

The man you befriended, Leo, offered you housing for cheap, in a complex near his.

He was okay—you guess.

He was some pilot for the New Republic but was decommissioned after an injury to his brain. He kept you company—no—kept you busy.

He was okay—until his touches turned lingering when he began inviting you out to late night drinks and parties going on till the early mornings.

But he was harmless.

The two of you have never talked about whatever is going on between you. There was never any need to—you felt nothing. And he was harmless. He let you push out of his hugs that lasted too long and squeezed you too tight.

But he was nice—he was fine.

His friendship allowed you to be invisible to the New Republic records and in turn the Empire. If it meant slipping through the cracks, you would put up with much worse.

He does make you laugh—not in the way the Mandalorian did.

But he certainly doesn’t make you cry.

He also never brought a flush to your face, never gave you butterflies, never asked more than you let on, never excited you. Not the way the Mandalorian did.

You think back to his shirt you saw this morning in the closet. You haven’t put it back on since Sorgan, all those months ago. You wonder if it still smells like him, or if he’s truly lost forever. It makes your heart ache, even after all this time—you wonder if it will ever stop.

You tie your apron around your waist and make your way to the bar. It should be a slow night. You know Leo will come in for a drink soon, and to talk to you.

As you watch the time pass, he enters the cantina doors and finds your eyes almost immediately. He smiles. Really smiles. That’s something you like about him—you can always tell what he’s thinking. You smile back, tight lipped and continue to make a drink for a patron seated at the bar.

When Leo approaches the counter, you excuse yourself from the other customer, and begin to prepare his usual—some spotchka the cantina gets from a backwater town. You made fun of him when he revealed it was his favorite, but he only told you it reminded him of the glory days.

Whatever that meant.

When you set the drink in front of him and place your hands on the bar, he smiles at you again.

“Hey doll.” He winks at you. The nickname seemed like overkill in the beginning—but you barely notice it now—many people have had many nicknames for you your whole life. His flirting was getting tiresome—but you always put on a fake smile in response. He’s none the wiser to your apparent lack of blush.

“Hey Leo. The usual.” You gesture to the drink in front of him and he takes it while raising the glass to you.

“What are you doing tonight?” He asks while pulling the glass from his lips.

“Just working.” You respond and start polishing glasses for more drinks. “Why?” You peer at him, he has a devilish smile on his face.

“Two tickets. Tonight. You and me,” he says coolly. More declaring the plans rather than asking.

“Where to?” You ask while prepping another glass.

“You can’t say no. I gambled away next month’s rent for these tickets.”

“C’mon just tell me,” you say, looking up at him through your lashes—a small smile on your face.

“We’re going to the Opera.”

He convinces you to go—somehow. Maybe you feel bad for him or maybe you want to get out of your room. You feel trapped in this life. Stuck in a place you were seeking to leave. It feels different even 1000 levels up, but you still feel uneasy being in one place for so long. You told yourself you should go see Ahsoka, go do anything. So you go.

He convinces you to break out an old dress, do your hair for once, put on some makeup—telling you he would be in his best suit. You dig through your closet to find a black dress that comes down to your ankles. You had bought it to attend a ball Davin made you go to. It makes your skin shiver at the thought and when it pools at your ankles, the feeling doesn’t dissipate.

You smooth the dress over your body and grab a small shawl to go over your shoulders. He knocks on your door as you grab your clutch, pinning a few fallen pieces of hair back, and make your way to the entryway.

“Hey,” he greets you. “You look really nice,” he adds, wrapping your body in a small hug and looks down at you with a smile.

You don’t feel nice. The heels you’re wearing digs at your toes and the dress keeps surfacing old memories you fought so hard to bury. But you don’t tell him that. You don’t tell him anything.

“Thanks. You too,” you reply shortly.

You enter the speeder first, he opens the door for you. He’s a gentleman. He’s sweet, nice, everything you should be settling for, but you can’t help but think about a certain beskar covered man. He floods your thoughts constantly when you’re with Leo—you don’t know why and you don’t care to think about that particular notion further.

On the way to the opera house he talks your ear off about the show, saying something about how it’s his favorite since he was a kid and wanted to take you there. It’s fucked up, but you stop listening half way through. Just absentmindedly nodding your head and look at him smiling every so often. The ride feels like it lasts forever.

When you reach the platform of the house, he holds his hand out to you, taking your silken gloves in his hand to lift you out of the speeder. You remember the Mandalorian. His hands. The way it felt to touch his gloves in your bare ones—feeling the heat of his palms sear into yours.

He leads you to your seats, the lights dim, the show begins. He claps enthusiastically throughout the show. You like it too—when you’re not fighting to keep your head from slumping to the side. It’s too long for you, too domestic, too…boring.

The lights slowly lift when the show ends, Leo jumps to his feet to clap, you join him slowly, while stealing a glance at him through the corner of your eye.

You smooth your dress over your thighs and adjust your shawl over your shoulders. The room is cold, you can feel the chill go up your spine. As you clap and look around the room, people begin to exit. You can see them filing out through the aisles. Leo got seats in the mezzanine so you place your hands on the balcony ledge and peer down into the audience below you. You watch as the people move towards the exit.

But something shiny catches your eye and momentarily blinds your vision.

No.

It can’t be.

It…can be—but surely it can’t be because what are the odds?

He’s moving against the flow of traffic. Going towards the stage, and peering around—looking left then right. When his helmet moves towards up, you duck behind Leo and let out a small squeal. You aren’t sure why. You’ve been thinking about him for months and he’s here. In the flesh. Your heart skips a beat at the thought that he might be here for you—looking for you.

Leo guides you down towards the exit, holding your hand as you make your way down the grand steps which lead out to the main entrance.

You keep looking around you, curious about his arrival at the show. Leo notices your sudden uneasy energy and asks you about it—but you simply brush it off as being tired.

He appears then, in front of you. You can see the top of his helmet as he sticks up slightly from the crowd. You continued down the staircase, vision remained locked on his T visor looking around the room and at the people passing him as they make their way towards the exit.

He looks past you, further up the staircase and when his vision finally lands on you, you stumble. Holding onto Leo’s arm for dear life, you look down, your dress getting caught on the toe of your heel. You frantically look back at him, curious as to his reaction to everything. Seeing you here. Seeing you alive. With another man—in some outfit playing dress up. You pick your dress off the toe of your shoe and quickly descend from the last staircase.

Leo follows your hasty figure. His gaze coming up to meet your eye line.

“Is that a Mandalorian? Wait—hold on—he’s dangerous.” He grabs your bicep and attempts to hold you back gently. Your pace towards the Mandalorian doesn’t falter.

You meet him in the middle of the room. He stalks towards you, the crowd parting for him as you push through. Leo follows fast after you, breaking into a small jog.

It feels like time stands still—you push and push—rude, you know. But he’s here. And he sees you. And you want to explain everything before it’s too late. Before he leaves you like you left him.

You finally reach him. He stands still before you. He looks the same. Sans a small green child at his hip. Good. You note. He’s probably with Luke.

You’re breathless as you stare at him. You move to open your mouth and say something—anything, but Leo finally catches up to your side and pulls at your waist. You notice how the Mandalorian’s helmet looks down at Leo’s hand on your body.

“Geez. You move quickly. I–” He pauses when he looks up to who you’re standing in front of. Leo suddenly straightens his posture, though he’s still not taller than the Mandalorian. His voice appears in your ear, whispering lowly as if the Mandalorian can’t hear him.

“Do you know this guy or something?”

You ignore him and his touches. Only the man in front of you matters. You step toward him. Leo’s hand falls from your waist—he’s speechless, you can tell.

“Hi,” you say dumbly. He doesn’t respond. Only nods his head back at you.

Fuck. Maybe he’s mad—pissed even. But you can make it up to him, right? Explain everything?

“What are you doing here?” You ask, still breathless.

“Bounty work.” He replies. Your heart drops for a split second. He wasn’t here for you. It was all a coincidence. But maybe it was meant to be because, Maker. His voice. It sounds the same as you remember, richer even if that’s possible. It sends you into a trance. “What are you doing here?” He continues. Your face blushes embarrassingly.

“I—” You start but Leo’s touch on your body causes you to spin to look at him. He’s ruining everything.

“We should get going.” Leo says, hand coming to find your hip now, pulling back slightly towards his own body.

You look around and suddenly realize a small crowd has formed, watching you and the Mandalorian.

Fuck.

He’s right—too much attention.

But you can’t bring yourself to walk away from him. He’s right there, and you look pretty, and seeing his helmet in the flesh makes you feel lightheaded after so many nights of imagining his image.

“Go,” he says through modulation. Almost knowing. Like he understands everything—because for some reason, he does.

“I—” you start again before Leo’s hand drags you away, and the Mandalorian continues through the crowd and disappears from your vision.

“What the fuck was that?”

Leo drags you to some back alley away from the opera house. Maybe you should be scared in this situation, but like you said before, he’s harmless.

“Just someone I knew okay? Can we just drop it?”

“You just know a Mandalorian?” He places one hand on his hip and questions you with furrowed brows.

“Yes, it was a while ago—look can we just go back?” You don’t meet his eye.

“No, what business do you have with a Mandalorian? They’re dangerous. You know that right?”

“Yes. I know. Just drop it okay? He—I have no business with him—he’s no one.” The sentence coming from your mouth stings at its blatant lie.

“I’ve never seen you like that. You were—flushed—or—I don’t know. Can you just tell me what’s going on?”

“He’s—just—Maker, can we just go? He’s nothing.” You say with a slightly more threatening tone. Leo’s eyes sink to shock and he turns around, hands coming up to his head.

“You don’t tell me anything. I give you everything. And you can’t even tell me who that was. You’re awfully flustered for him being nothing.” He says, you look at him with pity.

“He’s someone from home. Okay? Just someone I used to know. I didn’t expect to see him here.” You say while not meeting his eye. You feel bad that you’re still searching for him even in this dark alley.

Leo looks at you. Really looks at you, and you finally meet his gaze. Fuck. He looks hurt. This isn’t what you meant to happen tonight. The Mandalorain pulled you against your wishes and this is you dealing with the consequences.

“Leo stop c’mon. I promise you. He—he’s no one. ”

Another lie to add to the pile.

“Maker I—you don’t get it. Do you?” He asks, his head hanging to the side.

You stare at him shocked. You’ve never seen him worked up, let alone mad at you.

“Get what? Leo I—”

He cuts you off, bringing his lips to yours. You don’t kiss him back, but you don’t push him off. He stays pushed against your lips for a couple seconds. Then he releases his hold on you—panting against your lips.

You pull back your head slightly, trying to find his eyes. You probably look like a deer in headlights right now.

“And now you look like that.” He says, breathless, defeated.

“Like what?”

“Scared.” He replies.

“I—Leo, I-I don’t know if I wan—” “I know. I just…I just had to try.” He drops your body from his hands and steps back. You don’t know what to say.

When you don't respond, he gestures towards the street and lets out a soft, “Let’s go back.”

He walks you back to your room, eventually. He leaves with his head down. You should feel bad—for lying. But all you can think about is the Mandalorian.

Fuck.

He was right there. You wanted to fall into his arms and tell him everything. Confess everything. But you couldn’t—and now you don’t know if you will ever be able to.

You reach into your clutch for the keycard to your room, and shuffle through some spare makeup to find it. You swipe it through the sensor and your door flushes open. You look in the mirror beside the front door—you’re unrecognizable to yourself after so many years in hiding.

You feel awful. You’re distraught and devastated—now it’s the appropriate feeling to use the word. He was right there. And even worse, you can’t shake the feeling of Leo’s lips on yours. You tried to wipe it off, but to no avail.

You slump down into a chair and begin to take your heels off. You unclasp them and drop them to the ground while reaching into your dress to take off the holster you had strapped to your thigh with your blaster and blade—just in case. You struggle with the clasp and begin to yank on it, the movement rustling your dress. You feel your blade cut into the skin on your pointer finger.

“Fuck.” You curse to yourself and bring your hand to your eye to inspect the damage.

“Need help?” A thick voice peels through the air of your small room. You yelp out of instinct, jump out of your seat, grab your blaster, and spin to face your bedroom.

Fuck are you dreaming?

He stands there. Just like a few hours before. In front of you—head tilting to the side. You don’t know whether or not to drop your blaster. Maybe he’s here to kill you.

“H–how–I–I…” You start breathless but can’t find the words.

“C’mon. Put that down.” He says while nodding his head to the blaster you still have raised at him. You lower it slowly while he steps toward you.

“H–how did you g–ge—” “Your lock is easy to pick.” He states—still approaching your shaken form.

“You—the opera. I—” you start, but he comes close to you. His body crowds your senses and you move your head to stare up at him.

“I got the guy.” He says. “And you live here now.” He looks around the room in reference. “And you’re with…him.” He says the last part and his voice raises at the end like it’s almost a question, but he’s trying to convince himself it’s a statement.

“Yes. I—well no—I-I live here. But we’re—he’s not—I’m not—we’re not together.” You stutter over your words. You can’t believe he’s here, in your home, crowding your senses like all the weeks before.

“Sure looked like it,” is all he says in reply. Fuck. Was he talking about the kiss?

You don’t know what to say to that—nevermind what he’s doing in your bedroom.

You choose to shake your head in response. You break your gaze, your eyes falling to your feet.

A few moments pass until he begins to move in front of you. He slowly kneels at your feet, mimicking the first time you met him, in the cantina. His hand finds your ankle and your breath hitches in response. You say nothing. Partially because you’re scared your erratic words will cause him to leave forever and the other half because you truly do not know what to say.

He trails his hand up your leg, bunching the fabric along with it, his touch soft on your skin. He reaches further, passing by your knee and you close your eyes, bite your lip and involuntarily let out a small whimper. His head snaps up to meet yours when your soft sounds echo through the room, but only trails his hand higher. It reaches the holster on your thigh. He slowly begins to unbuckle it and lingers there slightly longer than necessary, kneading the flesh of your leg while the holster falls to the ground.

He drops his hand from under your dress when you let out a small moan.

The Mandalorian stands and comes face to face with you again.

A thousand years could pass by but you would still be stuck in this moment. You look into his visor—you find his eyes immediately.

“You left,” he breaks the silence first. He sounds—mad. Or maybe hurt. You can’t tell under the modulation.

“I know. I–I’m sorry. I…” You don’t want to make excuses, so you settle for that.

“Why?” He asks anyway.

“Davin. He—I needed to be done.” You state, breaking your haze on his visor and looking to the side.

“You killed him?” He asks.

“Yes. I—the New Republic was all over the club after. I had to come up here to get away from it.” Your eyebrows furrow at the memories. “Leo is just…I don’t know. He worked with the NR. Takes the heat off me,” you confess.

“I see.” He notes in reply.

Silence surrounds both of you. You look back to his visor.

“I’m sorry. About everything.” You say. You want to reach out and touch him. Hold his hands in yours while you speak. And you do, before you even realize you’re moving. His hands feel rigid in yours while you mold with them.

You feel connected with him at your touch. Even through gloves you can feel every nerve ending in your body.

You feel the attachment that led you to him all those months ago—what kept you dreaming about him, what kept you coming back over and over again.

And maybe whenever you thought about him, it was because he was trying to find you. Searching the galaxy for your white eyes—dreaming about them behind his eyelids.

His hands pull back in your grip but you don’t let them go.

You’re done letting go.

But he’s angry with you. You can tell. Maybe it’s Leo, or maybe it’s just you. He was looking for you while you sat here pretty—leading on the guy next door.

“I should be going now. I…wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

“I–” He lets out a breathy laugh. “I saw him drag you into that alley.”

“You followed me?” Your eyes widen in shock.

“I guess. But you’re fine. You got out of there when it started looking…intimate,” you wince at his words. So he saw everything.

“Yeah. He-he just kissed me. I don’t know what happened.” You reply softly. His hand drops from yours and comes up—much like all those months ago, to touch your waist but he falters. Din remembers the man who was with you. His hands were all over your body. The way he glared at Din from behind your shoulder—threatened. Din silently shakes his head, this isn’t what he was here for.

But he isn’t sure what he was here for. He saw you, walking into the opera house. He rounded up the bounty quickly, dragging him back to the ship and sought after you when the show ended. It was supposed to be nothing more than following closely behind you—to steal a couple glances at you in that dress again before he got off world. But you had spotted him through the crowd—and then he knew there was no turning back.

Going to see you after the opera turned into following you to the alley, then to your complex, and picking the back door silently when you bid Leo goodnight.

Now he was—he wasn’t sure. But he knows getting involved with you again was dangerous—and he should treat it as such.

His arm drops and he balls his fist at his side. He feels your hand in his other one.

“Please,” you say with white eyes while you look at him through your lashes. All that was looking back was a black T.

“Don’t go.”

“You left. You left me.” He says with a certain bite that registers in the back of your throat and shoots down to create a pit in your stomach.

“I didn't know you were looking for me. In your dreams, you were looking for me,” you say while your head hangs and you drop his reluctant hand.

“I’m always looking for you.”

Tears well your eyes at his words. You stifle your cries for soft sobs but feel like dropping to the floor and staying there forever.

“Don’t cry,” he says. He brings his hand to your face—his thumb rubbing away fast falling tears from your eyes.

“I'm sorry,” you plead through tears.

“I know,” his hand remains on your face.

You push your cheek into it.

You stayed like that for a long time. He pulled you into his chest and gripped the back of your neck as he held you.

When you both settle to the table in the kitchen, you tell him about Davin—everything about him. You don’t miss how his hand tightens its fist at the mention he was your first kiss.

He tells you he took the kid to the seeing stone, lost him for a bit, then Luke swooped in and saved them all. Typical. Luke is so much like his father and yet, not at all.

“Can I get you anything? Are you hungry?” You say, making your way to the kitchen cabinets. Your bare feet patter into the floors—you’re still in your dress, the shawl wrapped around your body.

“I’m okay. Thank you,” he responds while looking around your home.

“Can I?” He gestures to the expanse of the big room—your living room, bedroom, and kitchen stand undivided, your space looking more like a large loft rather than a house.

“Go for it,” you prepare some berries in a bowl for him anyways. Although you aren’t sure how he will eat them in front of you—a reminder of the rift between you.

You watch him from the kitchen as he stalks around your small space. He looks at the books on your side table, inspects the small trinkets lining the shelves above your bed, touches the headboard with an open palm. It sends a heat to your lower stomach. He’s here. He’s in your room—your bedroom.

It's late. You both left the light switch turned off—blanketed in darkness, the only light coming from the glow of the moon through your windows.

You sit on the counter in your dress, next to the bowl of berries. You nibble at one while watching him look around your open closet.

“You like it here?” He asks, making his way back to you slowly while looking around.

“It’s cheap. It’s…fine. I guess.” you smile slightly at him. He meets your gaze and continues through the small space.

“Leo got it for me. Says he knows the landlord or something,” you concede—heart beat picking up slightly at the mention of his name.

“Leo.” He echos.

“Yeah. The guy from the Opera,” you note quietly, staring down to your swinging feet.

His figure stops a couple feet away from you, hip popped out, leaning on the side of the table with his arms crossed.

“He–y–he treating you right?” He asks, his stance looks ridgid.

“I guess. He’s…nice…fine. I told him I didn’t want anything though.”

“Before or after he kissed you?”

Your eyes widen at the statement. You try to find your words, lips parting.

“I–a-after. You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“No?”

You shake your head in response.

“Why not?” He steps towards you again, you find yourself parting your thighs, a quiet invitation for him to settle between your legs.

“B-because…” you trail off when his hands come to rest on both thighs, massaging them gently while he separates them more, his hips resting in between your legs.

The only contact you feel is the sides of his body on the inside of your knee. You look down, flustered, and when you see his hands on your legs it makes your breath hitch.

“Because?”

You close your eyes momentarily while he rubs your legs. You hesitate in your confession, but find your voice, maybe this is your proposal for him to stay here between your legs forever.

“Because everytime I'm with him I can only think about you.”

His hands stop moving on your thighs and your eyes snap up to meet his visor.

A long silence passes between you. His chest plate rises and falls with every breath. You count them. You’re worried your confession has upset him in some way.

“Fuck. You’re killing me,” he finally mutters. His hands begin to move again, wrapping around your waist—feeling your ribs under the dress. “You look…good. In this dress,” you let out a sigh of relief. You relish the feeling of his hands on your body. You want so desperately to tell him to rip it off you—do anything he wants with you.

“You wear this dress for him?” His words break your trance.

“No,” you shake your head furrowing your eyebrows, leaning into his touch, and arching your back slightly. You start breathing heavily, you can see it fogging his visor.

He crowds your senses, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. You can feel his cock—hard and wanting under his flight suit push into your core. It makes you gasp and see stars. Your hands instinctively come up to his chest plate. You feel the cold beskar bite your hot skin—it makes you shiver.

“You fuck him?” He says, his crude language mixed with the feeling of his body pressed to yours runs laps in your mind. He pulls the shawl off your shoulders and toys with the strap of your dress. You can’t breathe, let alone see straight. You are drunk at the feeling of his hands on you—his body so close to yours.

“No…no no. Definitely not,” you shake your head while leaning up to his helmet. If things were different you would reach up to kiss him.

“No? Would you have let him?” He pulls the straps of your dress off your shoulder, the fabric falls down your chest, exposing your breasts to the air—your nipples pebble at the cold.

“No—I…no. P-please,” You aren’t sure what you’re asking for, but you need him to do something, anything.

“Fuck, angel. Please what? What do you want from me?” The nickname burns your skin—unlike anything you’ve ever felt.

“Anything. A–anything. Whatever you want,” you plead. There’s almost tears in your eyes from your whining. The pool forming in your underwear is ever growing as he runs his hands along your bare chest, coming to grasp your tits in his hands, thumbing your nipples slowly.

“Anything I want?” His hand pulls back, travels under your dress, and toys with the hem of your underwear. “You’re just for me?” He continues.

“Yes. Y-yes—just for you. Only for you. Mandalori—”

He dips into your underwear, the pad of his gloved finger touches your aching clit lightly, you gasp and your head falls to rest against his chest plate.

“Mandalorian.” He chuckles. “I’ve got my hand up your dress and you don’t even wanna call me Mando?” His head tilts down to the side to see your face. He suddenly pulls his hand out, and starts to undo the fastens on the wrists. Fuck. Is he going to show you his hands? His real hands? You look up to him, and back down to his wrists. You can’t take your eyes away from his hands.

“Mandal—”

“Bite.” He cuts you off, his fingers appearing in front of your mouth, you bite down on the tips of his fingers and feel him pull back—his hand slipping out of his glove. He undoes the other glove. You see his skin. Decidedly human, and tan. You figure his skin never sees the sun, so it must be his natural color. Tan. Human.

“Do you want to know?” He returns his hands back under your dress, inching up your thighs again. The skin to skin contact makes your head spin and you feel lightheaded. Maybe he’s no good for you—something so simple isn’t supposed to feel so good.

“Know what?” His fingertips dip back into your underwear, feeling your wetness. He groans slowly. He begins to push his right middle finger into your aching hole, but pulls back out so only the tip remains.

“My name.”

That snaps you out of it. He can tell. His fingers stop working on you.

“I–only if you want…or you can just be Mandalorian to me.” You say and try to find his eyes beneath the visor. You whimper at the feeling of his fingertip in you. He pushes in—twisting his palm up so he can fill you till his knuckle. Maker, he causes you to see stars.

“I want you to know. ‘Cause you’re not just an assassin to me. Can I tell you?” He starts to pump slowly, finding a steady but achingly slow rhythm that has you whining into his chest. He brings his other hand to your chin, forcing it up to look at his visor. His head cocks—maker, he’s really asking you this question when he’s got his finger deep inside you?

You nod your head frantically and shut your eyes. You feel close just from his slow movements—the pressure building from months of dreaming about him is about to explode.

“Maker, I can feel you. You gonna come already angel? If I tell you, will you say it when you come? ”

“Yes—yes fuck—please, please, f–anything for you.”

He pumps more, adding a second finger, leaning down so his helmet’s forehead touches your own. That makes you want to cry. You bite your lip to soften your whimpers.

“Din. Din Djarin.” He mumbles under his breath and starts pumping faster.

Din. Din. Din. Din. Din.

Maker, you can barely breathe. When you feel the heat in your belly begin to spill over, you clutch onto his bicep so tight you’re afraid it’ll hurt him.

“Alright—alright. C’mon pretty girl. Give it to me,” he says—and you do. You come all over his fingers with a whine, louder than you expected, but then again it feels better than you ever expected. You say his name, his real name. Kriff. Your heart could explode.

When you come down from your high, he leaves his fingers inside you while he holds you in his arms, yours strewn over his shoulders, hanging from his body to keep upright.

You drift to sleep in his arms, your mind only chanting one thing until you see darkness.

Din. Din. Din. Din. Din.

Chapter Eight: The Resurgence

Taglist: Let me know if you want to be added!!

@iammissdoddydoodagrimes @dinwifey @n7cje @sasakipsposts

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sen-mirjahaal · 11 months

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Din Fucking Djarin rescuing whores 😭 God bless Janitor AI

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #star wars mandalorian #Mandalorian #star wars #the mandolorian x reader #mandoedits #mando s3 #mando x you #mando x original female character

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noisynaia · 2 years

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Among the Stars: Distant Suns

[Din Djarin x Reader] Chapter 1

Chapter title: The Inn

summary: You have lived on Tatooine your entire life, never even been off-planet. Your path crosses a mysterious Mandalorian and his even more mysterious child. You end up having to leave your home after getting caught up with the mysterious duo by mistake.

word count: 3.1k

rating: E

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!reader

note: This has not been beta read. No use of (y/n). The reader goes by she/her pronouns. She is described as being shorter than Mando and having hair (length, texture, or colour not mentioned) but no other physical descriptions are used. This is a slow burn y'all, but it will eventually become smutty™️. Hope you enjoy :)

crossposted on my ao3

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Luckily, the child doesn’t seem to mind the heat too much. The pod has good ventilation, making sure its little green inhabitant doesn't overheat. Din, on the other hand, is both hot and bothered. The armour has a cooling function, keeping his back and chest free from sweat. But the suns of the desert planet are unforgiving, the fabric of his cowl clinging to his neck and his gloved-covered palms are sweaty, sticking to the leather. His boots feel heavier and heavier with each step he takes on the loose sand.

Skywalker. It is the only lead he currently has on finding a Jedi. He had gotten a tip that a kid named Skywalker had lived on Tatooine years ago, but had not been able to find any information on the planet that have helped him to get closer to finding out what have become of him. It irritates Din, a whole day in the scorching heat and he was still not coming any further in his search for a Jedi for the kid. But there is also a part of Din that feel relief, it is a part he desperately tries to suppress. Not coming any closer to finding the Jedi also means that Din hasn’t come any closer to being separated from the kid. His lifestyle is not suited for a child. It is a selfish and nonlogical feeling, but Din have ended up caring more for the little womp rat than he ever had thought possible. He have not been letting himself dwell on it, trying to just take one day at a time, but it have been harder to do lately.

Din had been alone for a long time and having the small, green, youngster around had definitely been an upheaval, he was so used to not having anyone around. Din had gone many days without saying a word over the years while traveling alone in the crest. The child can, of course, not speak back, but Din talks to him. It is not like these oneway conversations involve any deep subjects, usually, Din simply says what he’s doing out loud, trying to include the child in the task at hand. Having someone around, especially a young child was foreign to Din, but he had ended up caring for the child in a way he had never even thought possible. However, what had come as the biggest shock for him was that the child seemed to care for Din too.

They had landed in Mos Eisley at dawn, dropping off the Razor Crest at Peli’s shop. The Crest had had a close encounter with an asteroid belt on their last mission, and the ship was not in the best condition now. Fortunately, the damage was sustained on the hunt for a very high-profile bounty, which Din brought in warm, so the repair fee shouldn’t be a problem. But it did mean that they had to stay on Tatooine for a night or two while the Crest got repaired. It was convenient that the only clue Din had about a Jedi was Tatooine. What wasn’t convenient was that he had not been able to find any information about where the Skywalker guy was. The only thing Din could confirm was that there had once been a Skywalker kid on the planet, but that it was many years ago and no one knew what had become of him. Din was back to square one. It’s been a long fruitless day and the kid, even with the decent protection from the pod, needs to get out of the heat, Din does too. He is tired, not only physically but mentally too.

The suns are about to set as they return to town. Din finds the place Peli had told him about with relative ease, as the woman had given a good description. He had asked her if there were any lodging places in town more kid-friendly than the cantina’s, in which Din knew many of the rooms was used by the brothel. It is not something Din would normally mind, but he would feel weird bringing the kid to such a place. The inn seems nice, it is probably also pricier than the rooms at the cantina, but that’s okay, it will be good for the kid, and Din doesn’t exactly hate the prospect of a few night's sleep on a good mattress.

A little bell rings as Din opens the door into a cozy lobby area that connects to a small dining hall. An elder Nautolan greets them. Her blue tendrils are twisted together down her back, held in place by a black ribbon.

“Welcome.” She salutes, immediately gravitating towards the child in the pod, cooing over his cuteness, seemingly completely unaffected by the fact that a Mandalorian in full beskar just stepped into her inn. She introduces herself, telling her name is Yina while getting some papers to check them into their room. Din signs, he feels a bit reluctant to do so, but he knows it’s just a formality.

She collects the papers looking at the now filled line at the bottom of the page. She smiles at him. “Well, Mando, why don’t you two go get settled in your room, and then I’ll tell our chef to get dinner ready for the two of you.”

“Thank you, that would be nice, but it’s only the kid that will be eating.”

She hands him the key to the room, giving the kid another friendly smile.

The room is nice, simple but nice, with a big freshener. Din put the kid's pod in the corner before picking up the child, who is starting to become a little cranky. “I know it has been a long day kid, let’s get you washed up and get you into some new clothes then dinner will probably be ready.”

Din will have to wait till the kid has fallen asleep to use the refresher and to get something to eat. Din is used to the freeze-dried nutrition packets he usually lives off, but he always makes an effort to get real food for the kid. He gets the things he will need for the kid’s bath from the small bag he brought from the crest.

–

You fold the last sheet and adds it to the basket with the others. You’re humming an old lullaby, it is one Yina used to sing to you as a child. You like the laundry cellar, the cool cellar is a nice escape from the heat and you enjoy the smell of the laundry detergent. You have just finished the last load, timing it perfectly with the setting of the suns, meaning you wouldn’t be overwhelmed by heat when you step up from your underground haven.

You grab the basket of fresh linens, balancing it against your hip as you climb the stairs.

Yina had let you sleep in this morning. You had tried to scold her for not waking you up when you finally had made it downstairs - but she wouldn't have any of it, telling you that there's no reason for you to get up so early anyway. It was, technically, true. You don’t have many overnight guests this time of year. The inn still making an okay profit since you have many loyal local customers coming to the inn’s restaurant - many agreeing that your chef, Groob, is the best in Mos Eisley if not all of Tatooine.

But you still don’t like it when Yina lets you slack off. You want to help as much as you can, take some off the burden. It was only recently that you had been able to persuade her to take a weekly off-day. You know she loves the Inn and is kind of a workaholic but you want to take care of her and ensure she is not overworked. She had powered through your entire childhood, taking care of the inn and raising you with all the love and care a child could ask for, all by herself. She had not had an easy life. She had grown up on Takodana but had fallen in love with a man from Tatooine, she had decided to follow her heart and leave her family in Andui and travel with him to Tatooine. They had gotten married, but tragedy struck and he died shortly after their wedding. She had been alone on a foreign, arid planet, mourning the loss of her love, but she had worked hard to save enough money to buy the inn. It had only been a couple of years after that you had been left on Yina’s doorstep as an infant.

You close the stairwell door and turn off the light after you. You find Yina behind the front desk in the lobby after you have put the clean sheets away.

“There you are, love. Already finished the laundry?” Yina smiles at you while putting away some paperwork.

“Yeah, I just finished the last load.” You join her by the front desk, stealing a glance at the papers. “Have we gotten a new guest?”

“Yes, a man with the cutest little youngling I've seen since you were a baby.” She says while getting on the other side of the desk, booping your nose on the way before sticking her head into the kitchen. You are pretty curious about this new guest. You rarely get off-planet folks, those people will usually stay in the lodging over the big cantina in town. The guests at the inn mostly consist of moisture farmers, or tradespeople from Mos Espa or other towns whenever they needed to visit Mos Eisley. Yina gets back from the kitchen, grabbing her shawl from behind the counter, to get ready to leave. You had insisted on taking the night shift since you had slept till so late.

“I’ll leave you to it then.” She says as she put the fabric over her shoulders. “I gave Groob their dinner orders.” She grabs the last of her things. “I told him to cook you something too.”

You smile at her, thankful to have her always care for you, even though you are more than old enough to take care of yourself.

“Should I get the crib for their room?” You ask before she leaves out of the backdoor leading up to the apartment.

“No they had their own with them, but you should probably get the highchair from the backroom.”

You bid her goodnight before going out to the back to get the chair for the child. You don’t have much more to do, the dining hall is empty and it’s too late for new customers to come in so you grab your datapad to get a little reading done.

You are soon totally engrossed in your story, you’ve come to a really exciting chapter, making you miss the familiar squeaks of the stairs. You first realize that you’re no longer alone in the lobby as the man stands right in front of you at the other side of the counter you currently lean against. You let out a squeal of surprise, feeling your face get warm in embarrassment, from your outburst, but the fact that you just had reached a rather steamy scene in the story you were reading did not help. The man, however, doesn’t really react to your outburst. You take in the sight of him before you. A man, or at least who you think is a man, towers before you covered in armor from head to toe, and a little green child with large black eyes is settled at his hip. It is in many ways a bizarre vision, but also bizarrely cute. The child is in itself adorable, but the way it’s calmly being held by the tall, brute-looking man while grasping the man's gloved thumb with it's little claw hand and looks at you with big curious eyes.

“I’m Mando, I just checked into room 8. I was told some food would be prepared for my kid.”

His voice is slightly modulated by the helmet, but not enough to hide the rich, gentle warmth of it.

Mando, you think for a second. Mandalorian. The man in front of you is a Mandalorian. You remember reading about them when you were younger, how they were a fearless warrior-people. You realised you were starring, get yourself together.

“Yes, of course. Yina told me we had gotten new guests”. She didn’t mention it was a bloody Mandalorian though.

“Follow me, I’ve gotten a chair ready for the little one. The food will be ready in just a moment.” You say as you bring them with you to the table you had made ready for them. The man seemed surprised by the gesture, slightly tilting his helmet as he sees the highchair. You tell them to make themselves comfortable before going out to the kitchen to get the food.

You tell Groob that you will clean the kitchen after you have eaten your dinner. The Rodian gives you a big smile, thanking you before wishing you a good evening before leaving for the night. You get a tray ready, grabbing the bowls with the steaming stew, and add a big glass of bantha milk for the child. The food smells amazing making your stomach rumble and you realise how hungry you have become. You balance the tray as you open the door to the diningroom with your elbow. The child’s head turns the second you open the door, visibly excited by the prospect of food. You put the child's dinner down on the table and the little green kid digs in immediately, making small sounds of delight. You can’t help but chuckle at the little one’s joy. The Mandalorian scolds him, telling him to slow down so he won’t make himself sick. The love and care he holds for his child is undoubtable. A gentle loving tone in his voice even when he reprimands the little one about table manners.

You don’t really know what to do now if you should go back to the kitchen to eat your own dinner or if the man and child wouldn’t mind you sitting at one of the other tables in the dining hall. You don’t get time to make a decision before the solid black visor from the armored man is focused on you.

“Won’t you sit down with us, I think he will appreciate having someone to eat with.” He tilts his head towards the child who gently coos up at you. You smile at the little green cutie-pie.

“I would love to keep this little cutie with company”. You say before sitting down at the table. You are very curious about the pair, you don’t know much about Mandalorians and you don’t even know what kind of being the child is. What kind of being they are since he must be his father.

“What’s his name?” You ask, thinking that would be a good start to get to know the duo better without stepping over the line.

“I don’t actually know, I usually just call him kid.” He shrugs, wiping some stew from the corner of the youngling's mouth with a napkin.

“He… He is my foundling.” The Mandalorian follow up with.

You look at the child. A foundling, huh, just like yourself. You smile at the kid.

“Well, he is very cute.” You conclude. “With or without a name.”

The Mandalorian chuckle, a deep warm sound that makes something in your stomach flip.

“That he is.” He agrees. You continue the rest of the meal with light small talk. You gather the idea that the man doesn’t take off the armor around strangers, it does fit with something you think you read about Mandalorians. You wonder if it includes the child or if he gets to see his father without the helmet. You feel like asking him would be to overstep, but you are curious. Instead you ask him when he will eat, hoping that it was an okay question.

“I usually eat after he has fallen asleep. ”

That makes sense, but you still can’t wrap your head around how he gets enough food and water through out the day. The child finishes his meal soon after, starting to look very sleepy. Mando chuckles at the little one, which heads keep nodding with sleep. The sound so warm and gentle. You can’t stop yourself from thinking how beautiful the sound is. He scoops the kid up in his arms.

“I better get him off to bed.” He says voice as gentle as ever. “Thank you for the company, I feel bad that he has to eat alone so often.”

You smile up at him. “It was my pleasure. Sleep well you too” You say as you get up from your chair and start to collect the empty dishes.

“You too.” He says before heading up to the room with the child.

You can’t help but smile as you return to the kitchen. You hum as you finish up the dishes, you’re efficient and finish the work fast. You look around the spotless kitchen, pretty proud of your work, as you wrap your cardigan tighter around yourself, pulling on the sleeves to warm your wrists. The temperature always falls significantly after sunsdown.

You can go up to the apartment now since there isn’t really more for you to do down here, but you kind of lingers in the kitchen. You had gotten an idea, but you were unsure if it would be welcomed or not. You could cook something for the Mandalorian, bringing it up to his room so he could eat in peace but still get a real meal instead of the flavourless nutrition-packs you learned he eats. You’re no Groob, but you are a decent cook. You make a quick decision, finding ingredients for a fairly simple but very tasty soup you enjoy. You cut bread into thick slices which you heat up on the stove. You fill up a new tray, carefully arranging the food before putting a lid over it.

You carefully climb the stairs. When you finally reach the door for room 8 doubts start to kick in. He might not even like the food you have made, or it will make him uncomfortable that you had fixated on what he told you in the dinner hall. You stand frozen in front of the door for a while longer, dicussing with yourself if you should put the try down or not.

But you finally take a deep breath before putting the tray down in front of the door. You knock on the door, gently enough to not wake up the sleeping child or the man if he already had gone to bed. You turn on your heels immediately getting away before the Mandalorian in the room could open the door.

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kaysfanficcorner · 1 year

Text

Out of This World Chapter 7: Stellar

Author’s Note: Well, here we are. From here on out this story is going to be SPICY. As we make our way into the events of season two, be ready for things to heat up considerably. I’m both nervous and thrilled to share this chapter with you, so please be kind and above all else ENJOY! My use of Mando’a is about to ramp up as well, and I’ve attempted to to give definitions within the story itself, but if I use any words you aren’t familiar with feel free to ask me about it. As always, if you want to join the Taglist please let me know!

Jate - Good Ca - Night Elek - Yes Ad - Son

Summary: As we make our way into the events of season two, things between the Mandalorian and the Earthling start to really heat up.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Female Earthling Reader

Warnings: Warnings: Angst, Cursing, Light action violence, Nudity, Graphic depictions of sex. SMUT AND FLUFF ABOUND 🌶️

If you are under the age of 18 you are prohibited from this work of fiction.

Music Inspiration

We Might Even Be Falling In Love - Themes inspired

Music Inspiration

Stellar - Title inspired by, themes inspired

AO3

Original OOTW Fanart by Justin Wood (at the end)

*****

Life back on the Razor Crest feels incredibly strange after all that has changed. You feel like a different version of yourself when you once again climb the ramp to the ship you now openly consider to be your home. You’d left it feeling like a shell of a person after killing Ranik and now you’re returning with a stronger disposition, determined to become a warrior in your own right. Determined to feel like you can pull your weight around the ship as an equal to the Mandalorian. You’d also left the Razor Crest completely unsure of where you and Din stood with each other. The mild flirting and signals here or there had been maddening, and now the two of you are closer than you were before. Which is maddening for entirely different reasons.

You’re so happy to be reunited with your cat that you spend a good ten minutes carrying her around the ship, until she gets restless enough to pry herself from your arms. Jupiter is thrilled in her own feline way to have everyone back on board, and the kid is just as thrilled to be back home with her. Similarly to yourself, the little green child won’t leave her alone for the first few days out in space.

On the second day after Nevarro, you even walk in on the kid using his powers to grab at Jupiter’s tail from a few feet away. Every time the poor orange feline meows and tries to whip around to slash at an assailant that isn’t actually there, the kid giggles. You’d scooped him up and giggle too, before booping him on the nose and lightly telling him he shouldn’t use his powers to mess with people or animals.

The Space RV is pretty much just how it had been left, save for the little tune ups here and there that were ordered. Being back on board is both a comfort to you, and a frustration. Frustration eventually evolves into aggravation, and it isn’t until a few weeks have gone by that you come to terms with why you’re so fucking irritable all the sudden.

It’s Din.

You came back to the Razor Crest assuming that things were going to continue to feel the way that they had on Nevarro, that Din would continue you dote on you with the soft side of his personality that is only ever meant for you or the kid to experience. Somehow what you end up getting from your cosmic companion is the complete opposite. He’s not touchy feely anymore, and the words of affection have drifted from his tongue.

As the weeks drag on, you sincerely miss the inn on Nevarro. Comfortable bed aside, now that you’re home on the Space RV, you and Din no longer sleep next to one another. It’s back to taking turns in the cot. You’d gotten used to the feeling of your bodies intertwining as you both drifted off to sleep, and it’s hard for you to find comfort in your nightly rest without it. Sometimes he’d spoon you, others you’d been the one holding him. If you had to choose a favorite position, holding Din while he fell asleep would hands down be the winner. Feeling his body relax against you, limbs twitching here and there as his mind switches over from consciousness to unconsciousness, is something you’d come to treasure by the end of the week long stay on your beloved lava planet.

As upset as you are that you’re not going to be able to sleep next to Din like that any time soon, you’re even more upset that you never got around to sleeping with Din while having such a luxurious bed at your disposal. With the kid around there was just never a good time to try again.

Being home, it’s painfully obvious that there aren’t a ton of comfortable places to have a sexual encounter on the Crest. Declarations of mutual attraction and a week of fluffy little moments had been absolutely lovely, but you’re dying to consummate whatever this is between the two of you. Wondering when or if a good time for it will ever present itself is making you extremely antsy, and its becoming impossible to hold it in around the increasingly grumpier Din Djarin you find yourself stuck with. It’s driving you nuts, to the point where now you’re just getting pissed off about it.

Perhaps he’s dealing with similar frustrations about what’s going on between you. Perhaps it’s the fact that he’s got your makeshift family on a wild goose chase to drop off one of it’s members with complete strangers. More than likely, as it is with yourself, its a combination of the two things.

You’re perfectly aware that aside from the issues going on between the adults, a part of your heart shatters every single time you share a loving moment of fondness with the child. That being said, your only goal in regards to the little foundling is to love him and enjoy your remaining time together.

Which is one of the reasons why, today, you’re so pissed off at Din that you could punch that fucking helmet off of his head and risk breaking your own hand in the process. It’s as if he’s actively trying not to enjoy his time with anyone.

The Razor Crest is parked at a star port for a quick refuel, and so you insist that loading up on some more food and supplies for the cat is a necessity. Din just seems completely irritated with you when you suggest this, and it’s all you can do not to snap at him.

With a huff you tell him, “I’ll just go take care of it myself, you don’t have to come.”

“Absolutely not,” he counters, arms crossed over his chest.

You roll your eyes so hard that you nearly pull an ocular muscle. “Okay, then come on. The sooner we get this over with the sooner we can get back on the road.”

“Fine,” Din agrees, voice dripping with animosity.

Between you, the child can sense your friction and his ears are casting downward as he frowns. He clearly dislikes his humans being snippy with one another. You sense this, so you scoop him up into your arms and begin walking down the ramp.

“Shouldn’t we use the pram?” Din asks, watching the two of you walk off.

You call over your shoulder, “Screw the pram. Just come on.”

And so you’re forced to shop for food with an uninterested, grumpy Mandalorian hovering over your shoulder and you feel as if you’re going to explode at any minute. Fighting with Din is the last thing you want, but if you aren’t able to have a conversation with him about what his problem is you’re afraid it’s going to come to that sooner rather than later.

What you really don’t understand is why a conversation hasn’t been had already. Aside from that first awkward month of living together, the communication between yourself and Din has been pretty good up to this point. Why it feels like you suddenly can’t approach him, you do not know. It’s starting to make your fight or flight instincts want to kick in, reminding you of what it felt like to constantly be on edge around your toxic family. Din is far from toxic, but it triggers you nonetheless.

So you try your hardest to ignore him, juggling the baby on one hip as you look at he various foods before you. The shop on the star port is small, and much like gas stations on the side of big highways back on Earth, the food seems both overpriced and unhealthy compared to the various fresh markets you’ve been to.

“Would your son like a free sample?” A voice suddenly catches your attention.

You look up from the vegetables to see an attractive young human man behind the counter. His dark skin is in contrast from his white hair and light blue eyes, and he’s dressed very plainly. A kind simile graces his features as he holds out what looks like a fried frog leg on a stick towards the baby, who is in turn grasping for it hungrily.

“What? Oh,” you hear yourself still sounding on edge so you try to force your voice to become pleasant with a fake smile plastered to your face. “Uh, yes thank you. He’s constantly hungry so I can’t say no to free food.”

“Here you go little fella,” the man says, smiling down at the kid as he hands it to him. “You have a beautiful family, ma’am.”

The compliment causes your chest to swell and you squeeze the kid tighter. Just as you’re about to say thank you and move on, the man speaks again.

“What’s his name?”

Then the tightness in your chest drops down into your stomach, a feeling of dread washing over you. How fucking embarrassing, even though it’s no one’s fault that neither you nor Din know the kid’s actual name. You fumble around for a quick answer, “Oh, well you know how it is with babies. He’s got a ton of nicknames. We hardly ever call him his real name because I can’t stop calling him ‘Green Bean’ at the moment.”

The man laughs, throwing his head back a little. “Oh, I get it. My wife can’t stop calling our little one ‘chubby cheeks.’ I keep telling her it’s going to give the kid a complex but she doesn’t listen.” He looks past you to where Din is standing behind and to your right side, “I’m sure you can relate, sir.”

You look back to Din, making a face that hopefully reads as “just play along”. The beskar helmet looks at you for a long moment, his shoulders squaring. Eventually he looks to the vendor with a shrug, “I try not to fight her on much.”

You can’t help but feel that his statement was directed at you just as much as the vendor, hoping that this is him making an attempt to address the misplaced bitterness between you. If it is, his timing really does suck. The kid is already done with his frog leg, so you take the pointy stick from him before he accidentally pokes himself.

With another laugh, the kind vendor nods his head, “I should try that with my wife and see if it gets me out of trouble more often.” The man reaches below the counter and pulls out another of the free samples. “Here, have another leg for Green Bean. On the house.”

“Thank you,” you say, smiling brightly at the man. As annoyed as you had been when you entered the shop, having a friendly human encounter has helped to liven you up a little. You look down at the child in your arms, jerking your head towards the man. “Say bye, Green Bean.”

The kid complies, ears shifting as he looks to the man with a big smile on his tiny mouth. He gurgles and makes a few noises, using his free hand to wave up at the nice man.

You make a few more purchases, including more protein packs for Jupiter, and when you have everything on your list you inform Din and the child that it’s time to head back to the ship. Once the group is no longer around other people in the sanctity of the Razor Crest, you look down at the baby on your hip and lift him up so that you can kiss him on the head. “I wish we knew your real name, buddy. Sorry we have to call you ‘Green Bean’ or ‘the kid’ all the time.”

Din walks up beside you and speaks in a low voice. “I wish you wouldn’t do that,” his tone is sharp.

Great, you think sarcastically. With a sigh, you stop what you’re doing and turn to look up at him. “Do what, Din?”

“Pretend that we’re his parents,” he says flatly, irritation floating just bellow the surface.

“I didn’t feel like explaining the real situation to that guy,” you offer lamely.

“You could have just declined his offer and moved on.”

“The kid was hungry.”

“You enjoyed it when that man called him your son,” Din’s voice sounds like it’s on the edge of control.

“Oh my God,” you groan with frustration, “yes! Okay? I did. Is that such a crime? I’ve practically been his foster mother for months. And like it or not you’ve been his foster father for much longer than that. I love him as if he was mine, and I’m not going to apologize for that.”

“It is irresponsible,” Din quietly seethes, you can practically hear his jaw clenching under the helmet.

“What is?” It’s all you can do not to raise your voice, “Giving him a home full of love? Letting him be a child?”

The kid makes a sad little noise between you and you both stop to look down at his distressed face. A feeling of guilt arises in your chest, having never wanted to make the kid feel as uncomfortable as you did when your own parents would fight in your presence.

“We shouldn’t do this in front of him,” Din finally says after a long moment of silence. He reaches out to touch one of the child’s downcast ears. The kid is clearly upset. “It’s okay, pal. We aren’t fighting.”

You drop your voice even lower as your eyes fill with tears. “We kind of are, Din. I hate this. Why are we being so cold towards each other? This isn’t us. At least, I didn’t think it was.”

He sighs heavily, “You’re right. This isn’t us. I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” you move closer to him, grabbing one of his gloved hands. “But I’m not sorry for how I treat this child. What if we take him to these Jedi people and they aren’t who we think they are? Or what if they are great, but the kid still doesn’t like it? Don’t you want him to know that he has a place to come back to where he is loved?”

“I…” Din seems to falter for a second before dipping his head towards his foster son, “Yes. I want him to know that. I want you to know that, buddy. ”

You squeeze his hand tighter, looking into the visor as you speak. “Think about us, what our childhoods looked like. We didn’t get to enjoy being kids for very long. I couldn’t live with myself if I thought I was denying him the right to actually be a child while he’s in my care. I realize that when we do find the Jedi, its going to be extremely hard on all of us. And I realize that the more attached we get to each other, the harder it’s going to be to say goodbye. I know that this is going to be especially hard on you as the one who’s been caring for him the longest, but pretending that you don’t have feelings wrapped up in this isn’t going to make it any easier. We owe to to him as well as ourselves to treat him with love. Is he not an integral member of your two person clan?”

“It’s already hard,” Din says, voice choked, “I am going to miss him.”

“I’m going to miss him too,” you agree, misty eyes threatening to boil over as you cradle the child between the two of you. Din places a hand to the back of his tiny head so that you are both holding him. “But as long as he knows he can always be a part Clan Mudhorn, we may not have to miss him forever.”

Din seems to agree with this, gently touching his beskar forehead to the child’s fleshy one as he speaks to him in Mando’a. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, ner ad.”

You’ve been studying very basic phrases, numbers, and the Mando’a alphabet since leaving Nevarro, but what Din just said is almost completely lost on you. Not wanting to break from this tender moment, you decide that asking for a definition can wait until later. Instead you snuggle into the small group embrace, whispering to the green child that you love him dearly.

“It’s nice to have you back,” you tell your Mandalorian after he lifts up to pull apart from you. His body language is more akin to the Din you know, less stiff.

“Thank you for reminding me to be here,” Din replies.

You set the kid down between you, letting him waddle off to find Jupiter or something to mess with that he shouldn’t. You look at Din, opening your arms to offer him a real hug. “Still friends?”

He nods, pulling your body against him, “Elek, ner burc’ya.”

Instead of responding with the word in basic, you decide to reply to him with the Mando’a word for good, “Jate. I am sorry for letting my bitchiness get the better of me. It was not easy to go from having you feel like my partner on Nevarro to unexpectedly getting the cold shoulder for over half a month.”

“I thought I needed to pull away,” Din confirms.

“Yeah, well next time you feel the urge to pull away can we try to talk about it first?”

“I will try,” he sighs, “I’m not good at this.”

“You were doing great on Nevarro. Real boyfriend material.” Cringing, you wish to hell that you hadn’t just said that last part. If this thing between the two of you does end up progressing even further, boyfriend is the absolute wrong term for a man like Din. It sounds so… Earthy.

Din squeezes you, “On Nevarro things didn’t feel real. It felt like time had stopped and all there was, was you, me, and the kid. I could have stayed there forever, and when I realized this it unsettled me.”

You can’t help but chuckle a little, “Aww, Din. You had the post-vacation blues. It happens to everyone, totally normal.”

“I did not care for it.”

*****

A few more weeks go by and things between you and Din have improved considerably. He’s no longer shutting you out or acting cold, and the communication between you is more at the surface.

Unfortunately, though, the two of you have still yet to take any measures to further your budding relationship along. Now that you’re no longer irritated with him, you really just wish that you could fuck him already. It’s getting to the point where it’s actively a problem.

Din seems to be able to tell that something is up with you, because he eventually calls you out on it when the two of you are practicing with whipchord launchers on the lower deck of the ship. He’s begun training you on the various weapons that a Mandalorian considers to be essential, and up until now you’ve been incredibly enthusiastic. Even though a lot of what he’s trying to teach you does not come naturally, and most days you end up both exhausted and vexed, you approach every one of his lessons with respect.

Today, however, all the fervor has drained from you. The whipchord launcher seems impossible to use, and Din’s so fucking mesmerizing that you you could care less about weaponry. Watching him move so effortlessly to shoot his whipchord at the makeshift dummy he’d set up only serves to cause your mind to wander to lewd places. Horny and nonplused, your heart just isn’t in training and it must be obvious.

“What’s going on with you?” Din asks, stopping mid sentence when he figures out that you haven’t been listening.

“Sorry, I’m just in a mood,” you explain with a half hearted shrug, “I swear I’m trying to pay attention.”

His shoulders soften a little as he looks you over, “Is it anything I can help with?”

You stare at him for a long moment, knowing full well that the kid is within earshot only a few feet away. He’s curled up in the cot with his meerkat toy and his silver ball, watching you and his dad with huge eyes. Considering your words carefully, you say, “Actually you’re the only one who can help with this particular problem, but it’s most definitely not the right time to talk about this.”

Din follows your gaze to his foundling, then his silver head snaps back to you, “Oh.”

“I can’t help it that you’re really attractive and distracting,” you smirk a little, bouncing on the balls of your feet as you watch him.

“Mm,” Din seems to consider his own words carefully before responding to you. “Tell you what, if you can master the whipchord while overcoming your distraction, I’ll let you jump the Razor Crest into hyperdrive by yourself. A warrior must learn to fight in spite of distractions, to purge them from the mind completely in the face of battle.”

“Deal, Chrome Dome,” you agree with a grin. You’ve been practicing your flying almost daily, but he’s barley let you touch anything in the cockpit without his strict supervision.

And so you practice over and over again, listening to every word Din says to you. Each syllable you let soak in with respect, ignoring the fact that he now seems to be purposefully doing things to distract you. He keeps flexing as he shows you the controls or titling his head a certain way. Then you know he’s really trying to get under your skin when he comes up behind you to adjust the forearm holding the spare vambrace he’d given you, and he gently presses his slight bulge into your ass.

Even though you can’t see his face, you know for a fact that he’s enjoying every moment of tormenting you. It’s all over his body language, which you’re getting increasingly better at reading. Who knew that Din Djarin has a wicked side.

Eventually you’re able to successfully launch the chord at the dummy, watching as it wraps around it just the way Din showed you. You try to yank the thing forward and knock it onto its side, simulating the act of pulling an enemy to the ground in one fell swoop. But nothing happens, much to your shock and disappointment. As hard as you’re trying, you just can’t seem to get this right.

“Ugh,” you groan.

“It’s okay, Cyar’ika,” your cosmic companion comforts, a hand on your shoulder as he peers down at you. You can see your frustration in the silver reflection. “You’ll get it eventually,” he adds. Obviously you have no idea what his face is doing behind the beskar barrier, yet for some reason you feel as if he’s looking at you fondly.

You repeat this action until it’s almost coming naturally, and Din decides that he’s pleased with enough with your progress that he declares the training session to be over. After cleaning up and putting the dummy away, you both realize that the kid is napping in the cot. The two of you decide to leave him there as you climb up to the cockpit one at at time.

Once upstairs, you look to Din with a sigh, “Sorry about getting distracted earlier. I was definitely on edge.”

“You’re still on edge,” Din observes, “Your body is very tense.”

“Yeah I guess you’re right,” you mumble, moving forward to wrap your arms around his waist. “I miss sleeping next to you.”

Din’s arms find you, “I miss that as well. But I know that’s not where this tension is coming from. You’ve been like this for the last couple of days.”

Cheeks flushing, you burry your head into his shoulder with a groan. “Am I that obvious?”

“You’ve been giving off signals,” the Mandalorian chuckles a little. “But I am not without tension of my own. I’m sorry that there hasn’t been a good moment for us to resume what we started on Nevarro.”

“It’s no one’s fault,” you pull apart from him slightly to look right into the visor. “I think I’m just psyching myself out about it.”

“I don’t understand the phrase.”

“I just mean I’m overthinking it, and subsequently second guessing myself. I haven’t had a partner in almost three years, so I’m worried that I’m a little rusty in the sheets.”

Din scoffs a little, shaking his head, “I have similar worries. I have not… been with another in nearly ten cycles.”

“Fuck, that’s a long time,” you utter softly, wondering how uncomfortable this conversation is for him as he confesses this to you.

Din nods, voice wavering as he speaks, “It hasn’t been entirely up to chance that we have not moved forward. I have not pursued connection with another in so long. Worry of my own inadequacy has been on my mind, preventing me from pursuing you.”

Brow furrowing as you regard your very good friend and possible lover, you reach out to trail delicate fingers over the black visor of his silver helmet as if touching his brow. “Then let’s not rush this. It can happen when the timing feels right for the both of us.”

The Mandalorian leans his head forward to knock lightly into yours, and a warm smile finds it’s way to your lips. No amount of Mandalorian head butts you receive from him are ever too much.

“I know we had a deal but I’d still like to see you jump the ship by yourself. Do you remember what we went over when I last showed you the hyperdrive?” Din asks, lifting up to his full height again as he moves over to the pilot’s seat.

You follow, coming to stand beside him as you look over the many lighted controls. “We talked about how to enter in jump coordinates into the navigational computer.”

Din takes a seat, pulling you down with him so that you’re seated in his lap. “Correct. Do you think you can enter them in without my help?”

You nod, “Yeah, I think so.”

It sounds like there is a smile riding the tone of his voice, “I want you to enter in these coordinates and jump us there.”

A little orange holographic display pops up from Din’s left vambrace, letters and numbers written in Mando’a. You can read some of it, but you squint at it for a moment before you turn your head to look at him. It’s taking most of your will power to ignore the feeling in your belly that stirs from being seated on his warm legs. His lap is comfortable, even with the hard beskar upon his thighs.

“I can only read some of that. I know there’s a x, a three, a four, and a nine.”

“You’ve been studying,” Din says fondly, switching the holograph over to basic so you can read it clearly. The basic alphabet is something you’d memorized with Cara prior to meeting your Mandalorian.

“Learning Mando’a is important to me,” you reply with equal fondness. Neither of you says anything else as you lean forward to begin entering in the coordinates into the computer. Din’s hands come to rest comfortably on your waist as you fumble a little bit with the typing, still not used to all of the symbols yet. Eventually you have the correct information inputed into the system, and then your hand lingers over the button which will jump the ship to those coordinates through hyperspace. You look back to Din and wait for him to give you the okay.

“Punch it, Cyar’ika.”

The ship lurches forward as stars begin their dance all around your metal home, an incredible sense of pride washing over you. Successfully jumping the Razor Crest feels like such an achievement.

When the jump is over in a few hours, Din helps you to bring the ship out of hyperspace. Now the kid is awake again and in his usual seat with Jupiter, so you’re seated in the pilot seat without the added cushion of one Din Djarin. The Mandalorian in question tells you that you’ve jumped the ship just outside the atmosphere of a planet on the outskirts of the outer rim, and that he’s brought all of you there so he can question a crime lord named Gor Koresh about where to find other Mandalorians. There have been rumors that Koresh is an underground beskar dealer, and Din thinks that he may have leads.

According to Din, if he can navigate through the various Mandalorian coverts scattered across the galaxy, then maybe he’ll have a better chance of finding a Jedi. Perhaps one of his own kind has information on where to find such a being. He’s made these Jedi people sound like literal space wizards when trying to explain it to you with what little knowledge he has on the subject, and if you weren’t sour about the fact that the purpose of finding one is to give them the kid, you’d probably be pretty excited to see what a space wizard looks like.

Din assists you in bringing the Razor Crest in for a landing, something you’re only starting to feel slightly comfortable doing, and then the two of you take the kid and the cat downstairs to discuss the plan.

“Follow my lead,” Din says as he hands over your blaster. He also hands you the small dagger you’ve been practicing with and the old whipchord vambrace you’d used earlier. “Do not say anything that’ll get us into trouble, and above all else stay calm. There’s a good chance that this could turn into an ambush for my armor, so try your best to remain unperturbed if things go south.”

You nod, holstering the blaster before strapping the vambrace to your forearm. This one isn’t made of beskar, but you still feel somewhat official adhering it to your person. You’re in your favorite outfit, and it helps to make you feel more confident about going on a mission at Din’s side. You stick the dagger into the side of your right boot, grinning up at Din once you’re done. “I’m starting to feel like a badass, getting to go with you to do cool Mandalorian shit.”

“Don’t get too cocky either,” Din adds, sounding amused.

With the child in his pram, the three of you make your way out of the ship and into the crime ridden streets of the city’s grungy warehouse district. Every run down building is riddled with graffiti, and you know that nothing good must happen in a place like this. It’s all very Gotham City in a weird sci-fi kind of way.

“Yeesh,” you mumble to yourself, eyes flicking around in every direction as your guard moves up on high alert.

Din seems to be purposefully staying under the dim street lamps, and you realize why as you see a glimmer of red to your right. It occurs to you that what you’re seeing is several sets of glowing eyes watching you from deep within a dark alley. When you hear the faintest growl coming from that direction, you quickly pick up the pace in order to keep closer to Mando.

Eventually you come to a stop where a male Twi’lek, as you’ve learned they are called, is working as the doorman for some sort of seedy looking establishment. Din tells him that your group is there to see Gor Koresh, and you’re surprised that the doorman moves to the side without much of a second thought. You’d assumed it was going to be much harder than that to get in.

You and the kid follow your Mandalorian into some sort of underground wrestling match, and you feel even more like you’re in a Batman comic as you take in your surroundings. Aliens of all shapes and sizes are packed into the space, screaming with fistfuls of drinks and paraphernalia as two green pig-like men fight each other in the large ring. The room is smoky, stinking of sweaty men, alcohol, and blood. A cacophony that only seems to get louder the further you tread into the crowd begins to hurt your ears, leaving you to hope that the kid’s big green ones are doing okay. You can only imagine how loud this may sound to him.

Being in a place like this is slightly exhilarating in spite of the nerves you feel. It reminds you of the one time you went to Earth wrestling, or some of the really low rent EDM shows from back in your early twenties. Except on Earth when you had gone to watch wrestling it was old dudes with metal folding chairs, not green Pumba-looking aliens with battle axes.

When your group comes upon a cyclops alien with an open seat on either side and group of goons surrounding him, you assume this must be Koresh. Din takes one of the seats beside him and motions for you to take the seat on the other side, the two of you surrounding the stout man. You try your best to ignore the lecherous stares from some of the other men around you, focusing on Din and the business he is here to conduct.

“This is no place for a child,” Koresh says, causing Din to straighten slightly.

“Where I go, he goes,” Din replies cooly.

The two of them talk things over for a while, until Koresh mentions Din giving his beskar armor up in exchange for information about the other Mandalorians. It’s all you can do not to chime in with something snarky, but you remember what Din had told you about not getting them into trouble. It seems that trouble comes regardless though, when Din says that he’s not going to leave his fate up to chance and Koresh agrees by pulling out a blaster. He shoots one of the wrestlers dead before pointing the blaster right at Din’s unprotected neck.

If he were to fire, Din would be dead in an instant.

Keep calm. Trust him, your voice is whispering inside your head, which also has a blaster pointed to it. All of the goons surrounding Koresh have drawn a weapon and are now pointing it at either Din or yourself. Any patrons who are not involved begin to scream and scatter from the building.

Koresh gives some small speech about how beskar has been rising in price and that he’s become quite fond of it, while threatening to peel the armor from Din’s corpse if he doesn’t give it up. You notice that Din is calmly arming his whistling birds, and the kid sees it too as he closes himself inside the pram. Then, Gor Koresh turns to you for the first time since you’d sat next to him and places a hand on your upper thigh. He’s dangerously close to snaking a hand between your legs, and still you remain calm.

He makes a lewd remark about how he’ll take you as well if Mando is willing to give up just some of the beskar, and Din’s voice never falters as he speaks to the crime lord with an even but forceful tone.

“Tell me where the Mandalorians are, and I’ll walk out of here without killing you.”

Koresh scoffs, “I thought you said you weren’t the gambler.”

“I’m not.”

And with that, Din’s whistling birds take down all of Koresh’s goons who’d had you both at blaster point. Both of you are up from your seats immediately, and you manage to dip down and dodge the oncoming blow from an alien directly behind you. For a second you think of Ranik’s death by your hand on Nar Shaddaa. Then when your body begins to freeze up you’re somehow able to purge the feeling of fear from your system and focus on the situation at hand.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see that Din has his hands full, but your not worried about him as you continue to move away from the man before you and his oncoming attacks. While you are crouched down to avoid a high kick, you pull the dagger from your boot and jam it into his thigh just above the knee. Howling in pain, he falls to the ground as you yank your dagger from his thigh and begin to lift yourself up. He attempts to lunge at you again, so you run the blade along his wrist before standing to your full height to move away from him.

Glancing to Din to make sure he’s still okay, you notice that Koresh is using the fight as a distraction and he’s waddling off towards the back of the arena. Without thinking twice, you take off after him. The rest of the goons are attacking Din, so you’re able to slip away quite easily. Koresh is shuffling as hard as he can but his little legs don’t get the portly man far, so you’re able easily to follow him out into the street. Huffing and puffing, Koresh looks back at you and shouts as you lift your right forearm. Aiming as much as you can with a moving target, you initiate your whipchord and watch with glee as it wraps around Koresh’s legs on the first try. The alien falls to the ground with a grunt and a thud.

“Oh shit,” you exclaim, holding the chord tight, “I did it!”

You can feel the presence of another coming up behind you, but before you can react to a possible attack Mando’s modulated voice is in your ears. Upon hearing your cosmic companion, your body relaxes a little.

“You caught him?” he sounds completely amazed.

“Yeah, holy shit!”

You observe as Din takes the chord from you and swings the end of it up over the light post above your head, pulling Koresh up until he’s hanging upside down in front of you. Din ties him off and then comes to stand before him as he pleads for Din to stop.

“Serves you right for tying to buy me, creep,” you shove at the alien, making him swing a little.

“I’ll tell you where he is, but you must give me your word that you will not kill me,” Koresh pleads, panting.

The Mandalorian steadies him and looks down into the one upside down eye as he speaks evenly, “I promise you will not die by my hand. Now where is the Mandalorian you know of?”

“Tatooine.”

“What?!”

“The Mando I know of is on Tatooine!”

“I’ve spent much time on Tatooine, I’ve never seen a Mandalorian there.”

“My information is good, I tell you! The city of Mos Pelgo. I swear it by the Gatra.”

“Tatooine it is, then.”

Koresh starts screaming for Mando to cut him down as your friend simply motions to you that your group is leaving. The kid’s pram is floating just behind Din as he walks off so you turn to follow as well. When Koresh screams that he can’t be left like that, Din turns back to the little one eyed man with his blaster raised.

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” Din says cooly, and shoots the street light out.

Koresh dangles there in the dark like a piece of meat, and you turn back for a moment to watch as he’s swarmed by those same red eyed creatures from the alley. You quickly spin around and catch up to Mando as the alien’s screams of agony echo behind you.

*****

“I’m going to put him down in the cot, I’ll be right back.” Din says, squeezing your shoulder with his free hand. The kid is sleeping in Din’s other arm and you just nod your head, on the verge of falling asleep yourself.

Space RV is back in hyperspace and you’ve since cleaned yourself up from the fight in the arena. Dressed in comfortable clothes for sleeping, you feel almost cozy curled up in your blanket on the red leather seat. The Mandalorian only leaves you alone in the cockpit for a few minutes, and you start to nod off a little while he’s gone. But then he’s climbing the ladder again, his voice bringing you back to reality.

“Thank you for your help tonight,” he says, moving all the way into the small control room to join you.

“You’re welcome,” you reply, throwing a sleepy little smile up his way.

“The way you handled yourself was… exemplary. Taking the initiative to chase after Koresh, using the whipchord launcher just like we practiced. You kept calm even when we were being held at blasterpoint. I’m very proud of you, ner burc’ya.”

As Din is saying all of this, showering you with compliments, he’s slowly dropping down to his knees in front of you. Positioning himself between your legs, Din’s tone of voice morphs into something akin to sultry, and he reaches a hand forward to cup your face. His gloves and most of his armor have been removed.

“So fucking proud of you,” he says lowly, and your back straightens as his phrasing sobers you up from the sleepiness you’ve been feeling up to this point.

Din never uses that word in the way that you do. In fact, he’s only ever repeated it to you the one time after he had realized it’s definition. So when he says it right now it gets your full attention, causing you to sit up and look at him with raised eyebrows. The blanket falls from your shoulders in a clump behind you.

“Yeah? You’re how proud of me?” You repeat back, scooting yourself forward so that your groin is right up against him. You place a hand on either side of his head and look straight down at the beskar, pleased when he doesn’t move to stop you like he had last time. He trusts that you are not trying to remove it, and that fact alone fills you with joy.

The helmet in question tilts up at a sharp angle to look at you, “Take off your clothes and I’ll show you how proud I am.”

“What’s gotten into you? What happened to taking this slow?”

Din starts to lift the hem of your Bowie shirt, sliding his bare hands underneath the thin fabric as he inches it upwards. “Watching your bravery, seeing you use the skills that I’ve taught you. We felt like a team, like partners.”

“It was pretty nice to feel like I could be useful in a situation like that,” you agree, grinding your hips a little as you speak.

Din’s fingers continue pushing your shirt up until your breasts are exposed, stopping to tease both nipples with soft little pinches. “What I didn't like, was Koresh having the audacity to touch you.”

Your heart is beginning to beat faster, loving where this is going as you play dumb, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

“Don’t like people touching things that don’t belong to them,” he growls, lifting up to be more level with you as he pushes you back against the backrest of your red seat.

“And who do I belong to?”

“Me, Cyar’ika. You are mine,” Din’s voice is so lascivious, you feel as if your entire body could melt into goo right then and there.

“Tell me that again,” you demand as Din begins to yank the yoga pants and underwear from your waist.

He wiggles the fabric out from under your ass, leaning in towards you. “You are mine,” he repeats in that same lusty growl.

You long to run your fingers through hair, his hair, so you squeeze the helmet tighter. “I’m all yours, but that means you have to be all mine.”

“Naturally,” he finishes disrobing your bottom half, discarding with your clothes behind him, “I belong to you.”

Feeling a chill run through you now that most of you is exposed to the cool air, a little moan escapes your lips. You let go of him and rip the shirt from your head before leaning back into the seat more as you spread your legs. Of course, your planet necklace is the only thing adorning your now nude form. “Mmm, tell me that you’re proud of me again. That I did a good job.”

He’s beginning to unfasten his own pants, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Cyar’ika.”

“Show me, Din. Please,” you whine for him.

Din is almost fully dressed save for his hands, but now he’s pulling himself out and you really stop to appreciate how impressive he is when fully hard. Uncircumcised and quite large, he’s unlike any of the sexual partners you’ve been with in the past. The prospect of feeling him enter you is enough to make your entire body quiver with anticipation, core heating up rapidly.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, reaching out to take him into your hand. His entire body jerks forward when you make contact, a soft moan escaping him. “What is it, handsome?” Your voice is salacious.

“Been so long,” he mutters, his own wanton voice strained and husky.

You begin to stroke him, loving the way he melts into your hands. He braces himself on your chair as you scoot yourself forward and slide off of it, landing softly on your butt so that you’re at eye level with the impressive appendage. Then you part your lips, tongue protruding, and the noise Din makes when you slide the tip of him into your mouth is one you plan to cherish forever.

Hips bucking involuntarily, Din slides himself in and out as you gently suck. You’re careful not to use too much pressure or teeth, and under the beskar his eyes are rolling into the back of his head at the sensation. This doesn’t feel real. It’s got to be a dream, because nothing in his life has ever felt this fucking good.

“It’s real, Din,” you say as you come up for air, saliva running from the corners of your slightly swollen lips.

Had he said that out loud? He was sure that had been a private thought.

It doesn’t matter, all that matters is the pleasure he hasn’t felt in far too long. The dust and cobwebs have been cleared from his dormant libido, and he can feel a much older version of himself start to reawaken. Your mouth is lovely and warm and wet, but he’s suddenly ready to feel you clamp your muscles around him as you whine in ecstasy.

Pulling out of your mouth with a small pop, he leans back and brings your blanket down with him. You watch him with hunger in your gorgeous eyes as he lays the thick black fabric down on the floor of the cockpit before guiding you to lay down on your back.

You allow him to gently push you down, spreading your legs as he positions himself between them. The floor is hard and unforgiving, and will likely fuck your back up for the following day, but in this moment both of could give a shit less.

“Tell me what you want, ner cyare,” Din demands, swollen cock in one hand as he hovers over you with his other hand finding your soft wetness. It’s not lost on you that he’s calling you a word you do not know, but that can wait. His fingers are grazing over the sensitive swollen flesh of your clit, and nothing else fucking matters anymore.

Hands at the base of his neck, you lift up to whisper into the right side of his helmet, “I want my Mandalorian to fuck me so hard that I forget my own name.”

The heat between your legs only fires up more when you feel the tip of him press into your opening, and when you least expect it he thrusts all the way in. A gargled cry erupts from your throat, pain and pleasure both cascading through you as you realize you really haven’t taken anyone this big before. You’ve never been this full.

“Oh fucking hell,” you grunt, wiggling your hips around to try and adjust to his size pushed all the way in.

“You okay?” He pants above you. Fuck, if only you could feel his tongue in your mouth.

“Don’t stop,” you grunt out again, “you’re just bigger than I’m used to.”

Din pumps in and out, slowly at first but soon his pacing picks up to a more feverish rhythm. Nothing about this is picturesque. It’s rough, and raw, and messy. Both of you are so full of passion that your movements are almost frantically out of sync for the first few minutes. Eventually though, you start to tune yourselves into each other. Your hips rock up to meet his has he thrusts forward, and when your legs wrap around his waist it feels like he enters you even deeper. It feels so intense that you dig your nails into his lower back under the shirt as a loud noise escapes you, louder than any of the noises you’ve made thus far.

Din’s hand comes to clamp over your mouth, adding enough pressure to make you moan even louder against his palm.

“Shh,” he coos, “don’t want to wake the kid.”

With his hand stifling the obscene noises you’re unable to control, Din begins to really fuck you. No gentle thrusting, no consideration for your pain tolerance. He’s slamming into you with so much speed and force that you can barely keep your eyes open to look at him. You’re fully aware that you’re going to be sore tomorrow, but you adore every second of his rough handling of your body. It hurts, but in that way that you’ve learned to crave when it comes to sex.

Then he suddenly pulls out, leaving you feeling empty as he releases you to the ground and sits back on his booted heels. “Shit,” he exclaims, breathing more heavily than you’ve ever heard him. His hands are on his knees as he hunches forward.

Din really had to force himself off of you, afraid that if it went any further he’d finish too soon.

You’re similarly worried, sitting up to look at him with your brow furrowed. This is the most unprotected you’ve ever been, and it’s only just now occurring to you that the two of you need to be careful. “Did you…?”

“Almost,” he’s still catching his breath, “Sorry for being so rough with you.”

“You could be rougher,” you grin at him, “I’ve never been one for gentle sex.”

Crawling forward, you plop down onto your stomach right in front of him and prop yourself up on your forearms. Hesitantly, as this side of Din is so new to you and you’re not sure what will go over well, you stick out your tongue and run it from the base of his lovely cock all the way up to the tip. His body shudders as he moans, and you’re so proud of yourself for being able to cause these reactions in him.

“Mm, I taste so good on you,” you remark, smirking up at him as his head leans back to point up at the ceiling.

Din grunts out, “Oh fuck, Cyar’ika,” as his hips buck forward.

You take the opportunity to pull him all the way into your mouth, letting as much of his length as you can take slide down your throat. Bobbing, you begin to work his cock with your mouth and his hands come to grip at your hair. He pulls harder than you expect him to, but this only serves to kindle the blazing fire in your core as he helps guide your head up and down.

Then he yanks upward, causing you to pop off of him and look up. The beskar helmet is looking directly at you, and you whine a little bit just from the sight before your eyes. Din’s hardness in the foreground and the way his head is tilted down, you can only imagine what his face must look like riddled with lust.

“I want you to cum for me, Din,” you pant, mouth dripping.

He shakes his head, voice taking on a commanding tone that leaves you weak, “I’m not done with you yet. My chair. Now.”

Din never lets go of your hair, walking you on all fours across the short distance to the pilot’s seat. As uncomfortable as this is on your knees, you do not complain one bit. He’s handling you in the way you’ve been fantasizing about for months. You let him guide your naked body up on the seat, chest and stomach pressed down into the leather as you bend over it.

Oh shit, he’s going to take you from behind.

“Ner Mesh’la. Ner Cyare,” he croons, “tell me who you belong to.” He’s positioning himself at your opening once again, so you brace yourself against the seat as you turn to look back at your Mandalorian in all his glory. Din Djarin is absolutely fucking intoxicating like this, and now that you’re finally getting to experience it first hand, you feel as if you never want another person besides him to touch you for the rest of your life.

“I belong to Din Djarin, the best fucking Mandalorian in the galaxy.”

“That’s right, Cyar’ika.” Din grasps onto one of your forearms with his free hand as he places it to your lower back and holds it there. “And who do I belong to?”

“Me,” you moan, “you’re my Mandalorian, Din. All fucking mine.”

The next words that flow from Din’s mouth come so naturally that he doesn’t stop to second guess himself. He unabashedly says how he feels, how he’s been feeling. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.”

You’re squirming beneath him, pushing your ass out. “Quit teasing me,” you whine.

“Don’t get mouthy,” he reprimands lightly, spanking your ass once for good measure.

“Oh shit,” you squeak, looking back at him with a devilish little grin.

“Mm, my girl did so well tonight,” Din says as he begins to slowly push himself into you once more. “So fucking proud of my beautiful fucking girl. My girl deserves everything she wants.”

You feel your body envelope him, and everything else fades away besides Din Djarin. The sensation of his voice and the words he’s saying paired with the feeling of fullness in your core nearly sends you over the edge. This is the closest you’ve ever been to having an orgasm from another person’s involvement, let alone just from penetration. Your free hand moves to play with yourself, hoping to coax climax on if you can.

Then Din starts to pump again, pulling back slowly and then slamming his hips into you at nearly full force. He purposely tortures you with every thrust, loving how much you squirm and quiver each time he gradually pulls out. He really is close, and knows he can’t go on much longer, but he intends to savor every second that he’s inside of you and the effect it has on your body. Your tight wetness is so inviting that he feels like he could move in and never leave.

“Your girl wants you to fuck her harder,” you eventually plea, voice dripping with need.

So Din gladly complies, grabbing both of your hips to steady himself as his movements become relentless. He goes for as long as he possibly can, until he’s dangerously teetering on the edge and has to rip himself from you at the last minute. It’s over so fast, orgasm rocking his body completely as he leans his helmeted head on the small of your back and empties himself onto the floor between your knees with several soft moans. He’ll be sure to clean that up later.

Once he catches his breath, he’s lifting himself from your back to sit on the floor. You slide from the chair, coming to sit on your blanket directly in front of him. Your hair is a mess and your face is flushed, and Din is so enamored with your appearance that he wishes he could kiss you. Truly kiss you.

“How’s my Mando doing?” You ask, leaning forward to kiss his messy tip and lick up some of the remnants. His body shakes violently, a strangled little noise escaping him.

“He’ll let you know when he can think clearly again,” Din eventually chuckles, adrenaline slowly beginning to ebb from him. “That was…”

“Good?” You offer, looking hopeful.

“Magnificent,” he counters, head moving as he looks you up and down. “Did you…?

You grin, “Did I enjoy it? Din, I don’t think there are words for how much I enjoyed that.”

Din wishes you could see his own grin. “I’m glad, Cyare. But I was asking if you finished.”

Then your face falters, souring for a moment before you force a smile back to your lips. Din’s heart drops as a certain awkwardness washes over you. “No, I didn’t. I was close at one point, but its okay. I’m probably not going to.”

“What do you mean?”

You sigh, avoiding his gaze, “I’ve been having sex since I was nineteen, and I’ve never been able to cum when I’m with someone. If I’m alone it happens like it’s nothing, but if I’m with another person it’s like I get close but that’s all that ever happens. A guy went down on me for a full hour once and I still couldn’t climax. I don’t know if it’s that my body just freezes up or I’ve never had a true connection with anyone or what.”

“Your body was hardly frozen,” Din remarks, mulling over this information. His own orgasm feels lessened knowing that you did not experience the same amount of pleasure from the encounter. “You deserve to feel good as well.”

You shake your head, “I do feel good. I don’t have to finish to have good sex with you. And please know, that was very good sex.”

Din’s not taking no for an answer, he’s determined to make this right. “Is there anything more I can do?”

“Unfortunately not with the helmet on,” you say, squeezing his hand. “But it’s not important. I’ve already written that off.”

“What are you talking about?” He asks, but then once he really thinks about it the realization dawns on him. You’re suggesting he preform oral on you. Something he’s only aware of, certainly nothing he’s ever had a chance to try. Xi’an used to beg him to do that for her, but being true to the creed he’s never had sex without his helmet. “Oh.”

“Yeah, so out of respect for you lets not even go there. We should just stop talking about it all together. It’s off the table.” You wave him off as if you really are unconcerned, but Din can see the smallest glimmer of disappointment in your eyes and he simply cannot let this stand.

There’s got to be something he can do instead. He looks around the cockpit as if anything in this room could aid him, and then his eyes land on the pinkish-purple scarf that was given to you on Nevarro. You had recently tied it around the headrest of your seat and declared that you were decorating your space, but now Din thinks of a better purpose the piece of fabric could serve. He refers back to the dream about you that he had right after Nar Shaddaa, and a part of him wonders if this idea is actually taking things too far. Then he looks over your naked body and he suddenly doesn’t care.

It very well could be taking things too far, but that doesn’t seem to matter as Din feels himself moving towards it before the rest of his mind can catch up. He yanks at the fabric until it loosens away from the seat, and then he moves to sit in front of you.

“What are you doing?” You ask, eyeing the scarf skeptically.

“Do you trust me?” Din asks, ignoring your question. You nod, so he continues, “I will not let this happen lightly. If we do this, I need you to vow to me that you will continue to uphold your respect for my way of life.”

“I promise,” you whisper, eyes widening.

Din folds the fabric in fourths longways, holding one end in each hand. His face is completely serious below the beskar. “I have no idea what I’m doing, so this might not even work. But I do not wish to see you disappointed, and I would very much like to know what you taste like.”

You seem to react to this, face melting into the same one that was full of lust just a few moments ago. “Only if you’re one hundred percent sure.”

“I am,” he nods, “Turn around and face that way.”

You comply, moving your body to face in the opposite direction. Din lifts the fabric of the scarf above your head and comes to a stop right in front of your face. You nod once, so Din gently places the fabric over your eyes and ties it tightly behind your head.

“Too tight?”

“No it feels fine.”

“Can you see anything?”

“Not at all, its totally dark under this thing.”

When you eventually hear the hiss of his modulator and the sound of metal clunking to the ground, a thrill runs through your body. Gooseflesh prickles all the way up your arms and legs, up your spine, and comes to rest at the back of your head. The tingling sensation you feel all over is maddening, and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Are you okay, Cyare?” His voice sounds completely the same while also sounding so different. Without the speakers of the modulator, it sounds more human. More tangible.

“Whoa, your voice sounds different. I… did you really take it off, Din?” Blanketed in darkness, you’re not sure if what you’re hearing is real.

“I did,” his voice is suddenly in front of you, much closer than it was a moment ago.

Then you feel hands in your hair, and something fleshy brushes up against your nose. “Is that…?”

One of the hands in your hair moves to grab hold of one of yours, gently lifting your fingers upwards until they come in contact with skin.

“My nose,” Din says, trailing your fingers over more skin and you giggle at the feeling of prickly facial hair. Then you’re touching what feels like lips, and this is only confirmed for you when they part slightly and you can feel the heat of his breath. He kisses your fingertips, “My lips.”

“My lips wouldn’t mind getting to know yours a little,” you say with a small laugh, gasping at the end of your sentence when he cups your face and pulls it forward slightly.

“I have not done this since I took the oath,” he says, sounding almost awkward and unsure of himself.

You smile, “I don’t have any expectations, Din. I just want you to be yourself.”

Then your lips are captured in his and suddenly the reality of what is going on really kicks in. Din has taken his helmet off, you are blindfolded to be kept from seeing his face, and he is kissing you. Something that you assumed would never happen, and had come to terms with long before anyone admitted their feelings for the other.

Just as it had been when you were having sex, the movements are feverish and all over the place but soon enough the two of you find rhythm with one another again. Your tongue snakes out from behind your teeth, slowly entering his warm mouth as his own tongue runs over yours in exploration. You think idly that he tastes of caf and something else you can’t place. He moans against you, so you take it that he enjoys your advances. Cradling his face in either hand, you push yourself forward to really get leverage in the kiss. The facial hair feels so nice against your hands, his mustache tickling your nose.

Then he pulls away, a hand to your chest as he gently coaxes you to lay down. You whine a little, openly pouting. Din growls, and the hand on your chest increases pressure.

“I want my mesh’la girl to feel good,” he declares, and you finally give in to the hand pushing you down onto your back.

His lips travel down your neck, pecking every few inches until he makes his way to your breasts. Licking at one of your nipples, he then takes it into his mouth as he nibbles lightly. It sends you into a tizzy until he pulls away.

“Kissing you felt really good,” you finally counter, grinning in his general direction as you lay there. “I was ready to go on for the rest of my life not knowing what that feels like and now you’ve spoiled me and I don’t think I can live without it.”

A hand moves your left leg outward. “Let me spoil you even more, Cyare.” Then another hand moves your right leg, spreading you open. Nothing happens for a moment, until you hear the distant sound of Din inhaling deeply through his nose. “Delicious,” he breathes, referring to the scent of you.

His movements are hesitant at first and when you feel the warmth of his wet tongue for the first time you jump a little, flinching away with a sharp noise when his facial hair tickles the sensitive flesh between your legs. Before he can stop and ask if you’re okay, you assure him that you’re fine and urge him to keep going. You have to consciously keep your legs spread, fighting the instinct to clamp your thighs around his unsuspecting head as he tentatively runs his tongue from the base of your entrance all the way up to the clit. Din repeats this motion several times, before showing complete attention to the swollen nub. You can tell that he’s not sure of himself, that he’s truly never done this before, so you decide to coach him a little bit.

“Mm, oh fuck,” you croak out between moans, “when you swirled your tongue there it felt so-oh god-so fucking good. Try to focus your attention there as much as possible.”

Din carries on with the same strokes of the tongue, and then suddenly you feel a finger pressing against your entrance. It traces the slick opening a few times before sliding in completely, causing you to cry out Din’s name in a feral voice. Then a second finger enters you, then a third, and your eyes roll back behind the blindfold as he beings to pump. Your sense of how long this is going on is completely gone, having no idea how much time is passing. All you know is the pleasure your body is feeling, totally unmeasured by time. Blindfolded and filled up with the Mandalorian’s fingers while his tongue swirls over your clit, you can feel the familiar building sensation that always comes before an orgasm. Arguably, the crescendo of nerves firing up is more pleasurable to you than an orgasm itself and this one builds for a long moment of agonizing intensity.

Legs trembling, suddenly your hands are tangled in Din’s hair as you yank harder than you mean to. “Oh, oh shit. Please don’t stop I think it’s actually happening.”

Then the crescendo tips over, and you’re riding out the waves of orgasm with bucking hips and whining moans. Din laps at you a few more times, your body jerking with each stroke, and you beg him to let up as your sensitivity is temporarily maxed out.

You just lay there, quivering in the aftermath, and Din crawls up to your head. When his lips touch yours again everything feels swollen and slick and wet, especially his mustache. You can taste yourself on him and it causes you to pose the question, “So how do I taste?”, once he breaks apart from you again.

“Delectable, Cyar’ika.”

“Thank you, Din. I am beyond grateful,” you choke, the sudden need to cry washing over you as a small sob escapes your mouth.

“Shh,” he soothes as he scoops you into his arms.

Grasping at him, your hands snake up into his lovely soft hair as your body comes down from the adrenaline rush of sexual release. “I really thought that would never happen, and then you manage to make me cum on the first try with zero experience. What are the odds?”

His unmodulated, gorgeous voice is whispering lowly in your ear, “I perform best when the odds are against me.”

“Wow, such a humble Mandalorian.” Chuckling, you turn your head and catch his earlobe between your teeth.

He makes a little noise as you nibble his ear, body shuddering. “Perhaps you were on to something when you said you’ve never had a true connection with someone. I know that this, how close I feel to you, is more tangible than any connection I’ve made since my parents died. It means quite a bit to me.”

You pull away from his ear to face him, in spite of not being able to see. “You’re not wrong. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this close to anther person, Din. I’m glad that black hole spit me out where it did.”

“Mm,” he hums, and you feel the vibration of it, “as am I.”

You rub your cheek against his, adoring the feeling of skin and hair against your flesh as well as the scent of your sex on him. Even if you truly never get to see what this man looks like, feeling him is more than enough for you and you know it in your bones. “Thank you for trusting me. I know that the decision to remove your helmet did not come lightly.”

“Thank you for honoring your promise.”

The two of you lay there for a moment, peppering each other’s faces with kisses. You kiss his forehead, accidentally bumping into one of his eyes at first. He chuckles, and the sound of his unmodulated laugh melts your heart.

“Din?”

“Yes?”

Fingers playing with his hair, you smile a little at him. If only you could see his facial expression. Then an idea strikes you, so you move to his lips again and feel what you assume is him smiling against your fingertips. “What does ‘cyare’ mean? You called me your ‘cyare’ several times. And I don’t think I’m going to pronounce this right but you also said something like ‘kah-tay-leer darasoom’? We haven’t gone over those phrases in Mando’a yet so I had no idea what you were saying. I remember you said something similar to the kid recently.”

Din doesn’t respond right away, instead he kisses you deeply while holding your blindfolded face in both hands. After a moment he pulls apart from you, and you can sense that he’s hovering an only an inch or so from your face as you feel his warm breath on your skin. The pad of his thumb traces your lips.

“Cyare means beloved,” you feel his fingers move some of the hair from your forehead, “and what I told you was ‘ni kar’tayl gar darasuum.’ Kar’taylir means to know, to hold in the heart. Adding ‘darasuum’, eternity, changes it’s meaning to ‘I will know you forever.’ Essentially it is our phrase for expressing love. As I said before, this connection means something to me.”

Your breath hitches in your throat, the realization of his confession hitting you so hard that anther of your soft sobs echos through the cockpit. It’s not lost on you that you can feel fresh, warm wetness on his own stubbled cheeks. Tears, you’re feeling Din’s tears. He just told you that he loves you and he’s weeping. You almost can’t wrap your head around it.

“Din,” you are so overwhelmed with emotion, feeling your own tears form as they soak into the blindfold. The part of you that is afraid to give yourself over to him, afraid of the risk involved in giving your heart to another, wants to stop you from expressing how you feel. “I…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he whispers.

Cara’s advice echos through your mind, This life is too short not to get what you want out of it. You consider this for only but a moment, deciding that she was right and you cannot let yourself miss out on this. Yet something still feels off, and then it occurs to you, “Saying I love you just doesn’t feel right, like it means less to just say it in basic knowing there’s a beautiful way to say it in Mando’a. Say it slowly so I can hear the pronunciation.”

You feel Din hover just above your navel, placing a kiss to the flesh just below your breasts. “Ni,” his lips move between the soft peaks, “kar’tayl,” they migrate to your throat, “gar,” then he’s kissing you on the mouth again, “darasuum.”

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum, Din Djarin,” you whisper, lips spreading into the widest grin.

His face nuzzles into yours some more, sighing heavily before the sound morphs into a low chuckle. “I don’t know about you but I’m exhausted.”

“I wish we could sleep together like we did on Nevarro,” you say as you nuzzle him back. The smile on your face would have to be jackhammered off at this point, your heart is just too full of glee to for it leave anytime soon.

“Let’s try to sleep in the cot together,” he suggests, “I can’t be apart from you. Not right now.”

“Is the kid in his hammock?”

“Yes. It’ll be a tight fit but I think we can make it work.”

“It wouldn’t be the first tight fit we’ve had to deal with tonight,” you can’t help but joke, chuckling.

Din laughs, kissing you once more. This kiss is not deep, there are no tongues and the pacing is not feverish. His lips simply linger on yours for a long, loving moment.

“I need to put it back on, Cyar’ika,” he eventually says as he breaks apart.

Your chest aches a little, but you lift up to brush your nose against his once more. “Thank you for sharing this part of you with me. Will this be the only time I’ll ever get to feel you like this?”

“No,” he breathes, tone confident, “this will not be the only time.”

“Well until next time, then,” you say, pecking at him once more.

You feel him move away, and then after a moment his voice is once again being filtered through the modulator of his helmet. “It’s on, you can remove the blindfold.”

The cockpit had been dimly lit to begin with but everything seems incredibly bright as you slowly peel the damp fabric from your face and the visual world comes back to you.

Din is seated in front of you, once again wearing his helmet. You stare at him for a long moment, and suddenly none of what just happened feels real to you.

“Holy fucking hell,” you exclaim, giddy giggles bubbling up your throat. You long to cry out in elation, like when you used to go driving alone and joyfully scream in the sanctity of your car if you were in a great mood.

“You okay?” Din asks.

You nod, “more than okay.”

Din watches you re-dress, the two of you looking at each other as you pull the shirt over your head and hike the stretchy pants back up your legs. He’s sorry to see your body disappear behind the fabric, but sleep is starting to sound nicer than anything else. When you’re finished, you stand next to him with a hand outstretched. Din takes it, allowing you to help him up off the floor. He scoops up the blanket and hands it over to you, checking that everything with the ship is in order before motioning for you to start heading downstairs. He quickly cleans up the mess he’d made under the pilot seat and then comes to join you. As Din descends the ladder, he sees you standing there waiting for him with the blanket draped over your shoulders and a sleepy smile on your soft features.

“You’re a vision,” Din remarks as his feet touch the ground.

“Mm,” you hum, smiling at him. That lovely, kind smile that first caught his attention all those months ago on Nevarro. Maker, how far things have come. He’d been so annoyed when Karga coerced him into hiring you on as the nanny, and now he can’t imagine what his life would look like if he hadn’t.

“Let’s sleep, Cyar’ika.” Din says, tapping his forehead to yours.

“How’s this supposed to work?” You raise an eyebrow at him, grin cheeky.

Din peers into the thin sleeping cabin, noticing that the kid is still sleeping away in his little hammock above the bed. Jupiter has somehow managed to squeeze her way onto the thing with him, and the kid is using her as a sort of pillow. Admittedly, the scene is quite endearing.

“We lay on our sides,” Din shrugs, “you go in first and I’ll climb in after.”

“If you say so, Chrome Dome.” Chuckling, you crawl into the cot, laying on your side up against the right wall to give him enough space to enter.

Din kicks off his boots, bending forward to craw in with you. It’s certainly going to be a tight fit, but he thinks this may actually work nicely. He pulls himself all the way in, the door sliding shut once he’s inside. His body is already pressed to yours, so he carefully shifts around until he’s spooning up to your backside. One arm is tucked under his helmeted head, while the other is draped over you. You pull his hand into yours, tangling your fingers with his.

“Goodnight, Din,” you whisper in the darkness.

“Jate ca,” he whispers your name, “rest well.”

When Din awakes several hours later, his heart is so incredibly full that he’s not sure he could jam any more affection into it if he tried. You’re still out cold, but the kid has since migrated from his hammock to laying between you and the wall. One of your arms is curled around the foundling tightly, a content smile on your slightly parted lips. Jupiter has also relocated, as Din can feel her purring against the back of his helmeted head.

He should get up and start his day, but he instead closes his eyes once more and allows himself to feel happy for a long while.

*****

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elenaaadaniels · 1 year

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Chapter Nineteen: My Girl

Part 20

Warning(s); Nothing too bad. Fluff, kissing, Din admitting he's a smol bean

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Hey. It's all me in my head. I'm the one who burned us down. But it's not what I meant. Sorry that I hurt you. I don't wanna do, I don't wanna do this to you. I don't wanna lose, I don't wanna lose this with you. I need to say, hey. It's all me, just don't go. Meet me in the afterglow.

- 𝘈𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘨𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘉𝘺 𝘛𝘢𝘺𝘭𝘰𝘳 𝘚𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘵 ___________________________________

Taking a swing of the shot Bo-Katan got for her, Nadia fought the chills and burning sensation in her throat. She was angry. Angry and hurt that the alcohol in front of her wasn't a good mix she should have, but she was taking it anyway. Din watched behind his visor, surprised when she placed down her fourth shot glass wondering if he should take away the glass now or later.

" How did you know where we were?" Nadia asked breaking the small silence around them.

Bo-katan faced her," It's not every day a Mandalorian other than us is in town."

" Or with two sidekicks." Koska Reeves mumbled.

Din cleared his voice taking charge," I gather your not here for just drinks." He hinted causing Bo-Katan to nod back at him.

" Trask is a black market port. They're staging weapons that have been bought and sold with the plunders of our planet." She explained turning to her comrades before continuing." We're seizing those weapons and using them to retake our home world. Once we've done that, we'll seat a new Mandalore on the throne."

" That planet is cursed. Anyone who goes there dies. Once the Empire knew they couldn't control it, they made sure no one else could either."

Bo-Katan laughed at Din's words," Don't believe everything you hear." She replied smugly." Our enemies wanna separate us. But Mandalorians are stronger together."

Din shook his head," That's not part of my plan. I've been quested with returning this Child to the Jedi."

" What do you know of the Jedi?" Bo-Katan questioned.

" Nothing." Nadia interjected." We never met one."

" I was hoping you would help me by Creed." Din added

" I can lead you to one of their kind. But first, we need your help on our mission."

Nadia frowned," Mission?"

" Not you. You don't share Mandalorian honor."

" If I go, she goes." Din defended and if it was any other time, Nadia would of blushed at his words, but all she could do was roll her eyes.

Bo-katan nodded at his words knowing she needed the help, only secretly hoping Nadia knew what she was doing. Paying for the drinks and food, Bo-Katan lead the way to the ports where it was clear in the distance, a freighter was loading up unaware of the five staring at it.

" You see that Imperial Gozanti freighter?" Bo-Katan questioned turning to Din." It's being loaded with weapons as we speak. According to the port's manifest, it's scheduled to depart at first light."

" So we stow away?"

" We've been hitting 'em pretty hard. They scan for life forms as a precaution before pushing back." Koska explained looking over to Nadia seeing she was nodding her head.

" If you wanna do this with five, you're gonna need the element of surprise."

" Exactly." Bo-Katan agreed cracking a smile to Nadia." The freighter will maintain trawling speed while inside the shipping lanes and then ascend in orbit. We'll jet up when they're cruising in atmosphere. The tower won't allow them to climb until they've left the port's airspace."

Din seemed uneasy," Troopers?"

" A squad at most." Bo-Katan admitted." And they couldn't hit the side of a bantha."

" Okay, we're in." Din agreed looking down to Nadia expecting her to nod, but she never faced him." but we need to drop the kiddo at someone's."

" You have someone to trust?" Axe questioned causing Nadia to turn towards him.

" I have a person in mind." She said standing up and carefully placing the child on her hip.

They carefully slid off of the broken razor crest agreeing on where to meet before Din and Nadia broke away to take the child somewhere safe. He wanted to question where she had in mind for the child to go, but during their walk, almost sped walk not wanting to be by his side or even look in his direction. It made his own stomach turn and he cursed at himself for screwing up so badly. She stopped by a small little hut knocking on the door three times before it opened to the frog lady they helped earlier in the day.

" Hi. Remember me?" She greeted causing the lady to joyfully greet them back." Something's come up. Can I leave him with you for a bit?"

The frog lady spoke to her and a part of Din wish he had learned their language as well to be in the mix.

" She said of course. Anything after bring her eggs." She interpreted for him.

Din nodded his head looking to the child while Nadia handed him over.

" You are gonna stay here, so I want you to be respectful. And mind your manners." He sternly warned." You know what I'm talking about. Thanks. I'll be back for him."

Nadia smiled bending down to the child," Pinkie promise me, you'll be on your best behavior." She said getting a coo out of the child while he wrapped his whole hand around her finger." That's my little guy."

She kissed the top of his head getting another coo out of the child before turning back and leaving the hut with Din. She completely ignored him once again checking her weapons as she walked making sure they were good enough for the mission.

" Nadia-"

" I really don't want to talk right now." She interrupted sharply." We should keep a clear head for the mission."

He shook his head," But Nadia-"

" Not now." She said the last word in a stern voice.

Din could feel the tension radiating from her body and knew she had small tears in her eyes from the way they shined, but she didn't want to admit it. Turning back around just as quickly and continued to walk.

" Haar'chak" He cursed at himself knowing he done much more than screw himself over.

When they got to the meeting point, Bo-Katan went over the plan one more time reminding everyone of their duties. The freighter started up with a loud roar slowly building up before lifting off of the platform and into the air. Bo-Katan nodded her heading giving the signal and soon they all flew up towards the ship. Din held Nadia tightly gaining closer and closer to the ship before they both landed to the sight of stormtroopers.

" Pirates." The one trooper spoke, but Koska grabbed them up throwing them over the edge.

Axe opened the main hull and Bo-Katan was the first to go in taking down three as easily as she could before nodding for them that the coast was safe. They entered the empty hull, but it only lasted seconds before more troopers entered firing at them. Din was quick. He grabbed Nadia by her waist pulling her to the corner and shielding her body with his from any fire power.

" Stop protecting me." She seethed glaring up at him.

He completely ignored her grabbing his arm and placing her behind him with the other Mandalorian's shot their way closer and closer to the hull until no other troopers stood. One trooper came from the corner and quickly, Nadia got her blaster out getting them square in the chest.

" Go, go, go!"

They were all jogging this time through the halls turning left and right until another group of troopers came from the elevator shooting at them. They all hid in the corner watching Din pull a detonator from his side and throw it towards the troopers blinding them all. Through their helmets, they saw the heat signature shooting them through the haze and getting in the elevator.

" Nice shot on that trooper." Bo-Katan complimented looking to Nadia.

She nodded," Thanks."

" I got fifteen reads on troopers where we're going." Axe warned looking onto his coms before back to Bo-Katan." Plan?"

" Flush them out."

When the doors opened, the troopers fired at them all at once until the doors had shut completely dividing them from each other.

" Okay, flush them out now." Bo-Katan ordered causing Axe to open the cargo hatch and rid of any troopers.

When the doors did open, the cargo area was completely empty of troopers and all packages that were inside were perfectly intact latched down ahead of time. Nadia could hear the pleased laugh come from Bo-Katan before she took her helmet off watching as Axe and Koska lifted the case off of each box showing each weapon inside.

" Do you copy?"

Everyone looked to the group where the Imperial solider's comlink was. Bo-Katam gave a satisfied smile before scooping it off the ground and pressing the audio.

" I copy. Thanks for packing up all this gear so nicely. Imagine what a division of us can do when we get our hands on what's inside these shiny little boxes."

" If you think you're going to escape with those weapons, you are sadly mistaken." The man threatened on the other end of the line." Even if you've managed to jettison a few of those crates, we will comb the entire area until you are hunted down and killed."

" Oh, we're not jettisoning anything. We're taking the entire ship."

That instantly caught up to Din and Nadia's ears causing them to turn in shock at the change in plans.

" What?"

Bo-Katan ignored them however," Put some tea on." She ordered." We'll be up in a minute."

With the coms off, Nadia didn't hesitate to march up to the sneaky woman.

" Excuse me, but this is more than I signed up for." She said eying the woman with a hint of a glare.

" There is something I need." She confessed turning to Din once he came over to them." if I am to rule Mandalore. Something that was once mine. They know where it is and soon, so will I. Regardless, we are taking the ship for the battles ahead."

Din shook his head," I got you your weapons. I have to return to my ship with the foundling."

" If you want my help finding the Jedi, you will help me take this ship." She bargained going over what Din had said.

Nadia accused harshly," You're changing the terms of the deal."

" This is the way." She echoed eying the Mandalorian down before placing her helmet on leaving.

Axe and Koska followed close behind leaving Din and Nadia in the empty hull unable to say a word because they needed to find the Jedi in order to help the child. Nadia could sense the anger from Din, and grabbed her blaster from her side nudging his side.

" Let's just do it."

Din knew she was right. Taking the ship would delay them, but they needed the information to help the child and they made it this far for nothing. He grabbed his blaster coming to Nadia's side following right behind the others until the entire ship dove forward.

" They're taking the ship down!" Bo-Katan shouted over the alarms." There's the bridge. Come on!"

The minute the words left her mouth, troopers rounded the corner of the bridge firing at them that it was a miracle they had time to hide.

" How many troopers?"

" Six to ten." Axe announced peering over the corner." Two with heavy repeating blasters."

" We're losing altitude fast."

" We need to move now."

" They have too much firepower!"

" Still dropping." Koska reminded." Ten thousand."

" Cover me." Din said abandoning Nadia's side before she could even grab him.

"Mando!" She shouted in horror, but did as he told, grabbing her blaster and covering him the best she could from the troopers firepower.

Din threw his detonators at the troopers causing it to explode on contact getting rid of all the troopers in a ball of fire. When the flames went down, Nadia left the others side touching Din's shoulder lightly burning herself from the beskar's warmth.

" Din, can you hear me?"

He nodded his head getting back up," Come on!"

She nodded hitting the control button and having the doors open to a single imperial solider forcing the controls down to plummet the ship. Din rushed over ripping the solider from the seat and taking his place while Nadia hopped over the second one grabbing the wheel.

" Easy. Easy." Din coaxed.

With all her mighty, she pulled on the wheel with a small fear it would break off and screw them all, but to the luck of the maker, the ship sloped up just in time heading back into the atmosphere. With less of a struggle, she released some of her hold turning to Din as the two couldn't suppress the small chuckle of relief.

" I'll let you live." Bo-Katan seethed breaking them from their laughter." But you will take me to him."

" You might let me live, but he won't." The man answered biting down and sending volts of electricity throughout his body firing his brain within seconds.

" No!" Bo-Katan shouted in anger letting the man fall to the ground.

" We have to go." Koska warned turning to her." He sent a distress signal."

" Clear the atmosphere and prepare to jump."

Din nudged Nadia's side immediately," Come on."

" Are you sure you won't join us?" Bo-Katan questioned facing the two helpers.

" There's something I need to do."

" The offer stands if you change your mind."

Din nodded back," Where can I find the Jedi?"

Bo-Katan nodded removing her helmet for them to hear her clearly," Take the foundling to the city of Calodan on the forest planet of Corvus." She instructed." There you will find Ahsoka Tano. Tell her you were sent by Bo-Katan. And thank you. Your bravery will not be forgotten. Yours too. This is the Way."

" This is the Way." Din repeated grabbing Nadia's hands as they raced through the ship once again getting to the main entrence.

Once on the balcony, Nadia gulped at the distance from here to the ground wrapping her arms around Din's neck who was already wrapping her in his arms. Jumping from the edge, she squeezed her eyes shut at the feeling of falling until he turned on his jetpack flying them over to the familiar hut the child was staying at. Once on the ground, she thanked her stars before slowly walking to the hut doors and knocking until it opened. A smile pasted on her face when seeing the child with the frog parents and a little tadpole in front of them already hatched.

" There's my little guy." She chuckled walking over.

" Thank you for watching him." He said shaking the parents hands before lightly taking the child." Okay, kid. Come on. It's time to go. Congratulations."

As they left however, the child wiggled in Din's arms trying to go back to the little tadpole determine written on his wrinkly little face.

" No, I have enough pets." Din muttered causing the child to let out of frustrated huff.

Nadia shook her head at the little guy feeling both sleep and exhaustion start to creep up on her after the last two days they endured. She knew it would continue however when they got to the port to see the horrible state their ship was still left in. Rope was literally holding the crest together with different sheets of metal in oddly placed areas.

" I gave you a thousand credits, this was the best you could do?" He questioned the worker only for them to place a pad in front of Din to be able to gain their credits.

Din was too tired to care sending the credits his way and boarded onto the Crest. To say the least, the outside was much nicer than the inside. Fishing net was what was holding up the inside with the salty smell of the ocean still lingering inside and some seaweed hanging on the side of the seats.

" Mon Calamari. Unbelievable."

" Do you think we're even safe to travel like this?" Nadia said taking a seat only to gag when she had slimy seaweed on it.

" I don't even think we have a choice." Din answered turning on the ship only for it to shake violently from the action." On second thought. I think we need to make a pit stop."

Nadia nodded her head touching her keypads with the tip of her fingers from how slimy it was placing in the planet Corvus. She could see it was A forested planet, but any living plant was burned away, plundering the natural resources of the planet. The child cooed in an odd manner that caused both Din and Nadia to see a creature about to attack him, but Din caught it in time seeing it was a sea animal.

" Eat it." Din groaned tossing it to the child who caught it with his small mouth and gobbled it up." I finally know where I'm taking you. But it's gonna be a bumpy ride."

" Is the main hull secured?" Nadia asked spinning in her seat.

" Yeah."

" Alright, little guy." She breathed standing up and holding him." Now that you ate, let's get you something to drink and off to bed."

The child let out a sound likely trying to argue with her, but it was too cute to take serious. Din heard them head down the ladder before the doors closed leaving him alone in the cockpit. He took a deep breath leaning against his seat as the nerves turned his stomach. He wanted to tell her everything. He wanted to tell her how scared he was when she fell into that river and how much he loved holding her while they slept. He wanted to tell her how he never felt this with anyone and it scared him, but that was the thing. He was scared.

Frightened. Terrified. Petrified. Intimated.

He never had something like this before. A lone solider his whole life and now he had the little green kid that replied on him and someone that made his heart soar all around the galaxy. When the going got tough, he shut himself off, but it was different now. He didn't just have himself anymore. It didn't take long before Nadia got the child to sleep. He must have gotten little sleep to likely placing with the tadpole all night and day with the parents. The minute she heard him snore loudly, she knew he was out for the night and placed him in his little bunk.

She wanted to join the little guy, but one glance at the main hull and she was off moving some things to clean the area seeing the Mon Calmari really did do such a terrible job. She was busy throwing away some seaweed into a trash bag to hear Din come down the ladder. He nervously took a deep breath hearing his voice already shaky.

" I don't regret saving you." He spoke causing her to glance over to him before turning back to what she was doing.

" You sure regret something."

" I don't regret anything." He repeated walking closer to her." You are always worth saving."

" Well, it didn't feel like that for the last two days." She snapped dropping the trash bag onto the floor and walking further away from him.

He nodded his head agreeing with her." It just keeps replaying in my head. What happened. What could of happened." He continued walking again towards her." I just never felt like this with someone like how I feel about you."

Nadia was shocked. She placed the rag down that she was using and turned over to him with wide eyes unable to focus on a single word.

" Oh."

Din nodded again taking her hands into his," Nadia...I'm not best at this. I don't know what I'm doing." He admitted getting a small chuckle out of her." I think for the first time ever, I don't know what to do and I don't want to screw it up. Until you, all I knew was a bad kind of love. You're different."

She smiled staring at the Mandalorian in front of her that could make her heart skip a beat and sometimes upset over the silliest of things. She leaned forward standing on her toes to be able to kiss him on his beskar forehead.

" You're different for me too." She admitted staring at his visor." You just need to remember, I'm not a stranger. You can tell me anything. I'm not going anywhere."

Those words buried into his brain so deep that part of his fears were healed. She wasn't just some stranger anymore. She was someone who knew who he truly was over these eight months. Someone that made him smile under the helmet and blush all at the same time.

" Close your eyes." He instructed and she smile instantly knowing what he mean't.

He smiled himself placing his hands at the edge of his helmet and slipping it off with a hiss of air. He trusted Nadia more than he trusted anyone. Knew he didn't have to tie something over her eyes cause she would never dare to see him. Even now in the empty main hull, she squeezed her eyes shut. With the helmet off, he could see her more clearer. The lamp dim gave her skin more of a bronze hue soft to the touch. He couldn't help, but to take his glove off and touch her cheek.

She leaned into his touch, a smile on her face as her cheeks flared pink. Din’s cuirass freezes as he holds a breath in his chest, his gloved hands brushing down her back and holding her waist as he silently urges her closer. Nadia kept her hands on the sides of his helmet, looking at him with all the affection and care she held in her heart for him. When he releases the breath he’s been holding, Din speaks, his modulated rasp nearly breaking with desperation as he says the two words that change everything.

" Be my girl."

She laughs a sweet one that it's music to his ears.

" Only if you'll be my Mandalorian."

He smiles leaning forward kissing her right on the lips.

He's overwhelmed with a wave of such warmth that for a moment he think he might be burning alive. But then every sense within him comes alive, bursting in a beautiful display of pure affection as he urges Nadia even closer. His hands cups the side of her face as they continue to kiss. Nadia can feel the way their hearts come together the same way their mouths have, each simultaneous beat matching the movements of lips. They don’t stop until they’re sweetly suffocated by everything, pulling away with heavy yet satisfied breaths. Nadia smiled at him—and he smiled right back at her.

" You make everything in my life just seem a bit brighter." He admitted leaning his forehead against hers.

" Is that a bad thing?" She asked worried.

" It's something I'm not use to." He clarifies moving some hair behind her ear." Something about you makes me feel a little more alive and less lost."

" You never thought you'd get this attached did you?" She chuckles causing him to nod against her.

" No, but I don't want it to stop." He admits kissing her forehead." Why...why don't you sleep in my bunk with me tonight?"

She's surprised," Really?"

" It's clear we both get a goodnights rest when we're together." He bargained, but she nodded wanting to be close as they were two nights ago.

Din guided her over to his bunk turning the lamps off in the main hull to plunge the ship into complete darkness. He carefully tried to take off the beskar only for it to fall onto the ground a bit loudly with a girlish laugh from Nadia.

" Din, are you okay?"

" Guess I failed in being quiet." He spoke causing another laugh from her.

With all the beskar gone, he used muscle memory to walk over to the bunk carefully slipping in to not both crush Nadia or accidentally hurt her. Once he was settled in, she curled up to his side resting her head on his chest while he placed his arm around her waist scooting her closer. She breathed in his scent seeing after there mission, he still smelled like men's soap a just a bit of cologne. She felt a pang of nervousness wondering if she smelled like seaweed from earlier cleaning, but when he buried his face into his hair, she knew either way he didn't care. Nadia could feel herself falling asleep. One moment in her mind and the next almost in a dream when he spoke softly into the night.

" I won't let anything hurt you, Cyar'ika."

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lovelessdagger · 6 months

Text

Starlight -Chapter 38: Losing Dogs

Pairing: Din Djarin x OC

Rating: Mature

Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Smut

WARNINGS: Explicit Language. Implied Sexual Content. Graphic Death of an Animal.

Words: 3.5k

Summary: He fears the brink of insanity.

Masterlist | Starlight Masterlist | AO3 | Prev | Next

The morning is slow and Din Djarin remains at the foot of the throne room’s sweeping staircase until the suns beam inside. Occasionally he removes his helmet for a drink of water, or a bite of fruit spears stolen from the kitchen.

The Darksaber is displaced from his hip, chucked some twenty feet away at the base of the throne.

He fears the brink of insanity.

What a king he will make…

He’s fallen asleep thrice, each waking a startled jump. Intruders have been the Gamorreans, and the last time the wookie Krrsantan. None paid him any mind, though he suspects the wookie to be less impressed by his deprived state.

While the room is still dark, he stares at the ceiling and sees nothing. He feels claustrophobia crushing his lungs. The coming light proves the stone an untouchable barrier high above.

Better it all just collapse.

The image of her is burned into his mind. Asleep, quiet, content. He feels sick and wishes for a migraine. After a while, his water tastes like poison.

He blames her. He shouldn’t. He does.

Thing could’ve been fine. A release. A relief.

A sick closure.

They acted too casually. Too normal. They’d forgotten, he’d forgotten. He’s meant to not need her, want her. She’s supposed to be awful. Some lie. Something changed. Maybe she is, changed into something more caring, more willing to help, smarter, more aware—no, he’s meant to see her as worse.

Fuck.

Is it his place his cry? To be upset? Maybe not. Emotions are untethered.

He doesn’t want to love her, the root of the issue.

Maybe there’s a feeling of obligation.

Were he asked, without thinking Din would say he didn’t. Doesn’t.

He doesn’t love Lumina.

Doing so means too much. He’s strong. He is mandalorian, but he’s also scared.

There are too many variables.

Maybe he isn’t okay.

“You’re up early.” Fennec says, coming down the stairs. “Don’t tell me you’ve been down here all night.”

“No,” Din coughs. “No not all night.” He stands and his knees wobble. “I’ve been thinking… I don’t think it’s wise I go to Freetown.”

“Why’s that?”

He hesitates. “You can’t understand the kind of position I’m in just by being here…”

Fennec rolls her eyes. “You sound like Bo-Katan.”

“Is that wrong?”

“It is when neither of you can make up your mind. If you hate her you are at your mercy to do so. If you’d rather never see her again, do not. I gave you a choice. I don’t care about your feelings, I care that you can do a job. One job. Are you telling me now, that you are incapable?”

“I’m telling you it isn’t logical, and my personal reasons for that aren’t your concern.”

“Your intentions are precisely my concern. She is the heir of this palace, these territories, the sand you stand on. In the eyes of the Daimyo, that girl is worth more than any treasure in reserves. I am committed to her safety and wellbeing. What you need to understand is that we are balancing on a precarious line and you, are a wind I seem to have underestimated. You blow too hard.”

He swallows. “What kind of line are we talking about?”

“Go to Freetown,” Fennec says. “Look for it.”

---

A half hour past suns rise, Lumina emerges to the outdoor hangar with faltered step. She drags her newly finished bike, a Gamorrean moving a second for Din. He chooses not to comment on anything; her dark circles, or the remnants of the Imperial uniform on her body: A bodysuit, empty vambraces and holsters, a red cloth wrapped around her forearm. Her lightsaber dangles from her hip.

On closer look, he thinks her hair is shorter as well, just above her shoulder instead of just past.

She thanks the guard in Huttese, he bows.

Fennec steps out in exchange for the boar with a long locked gray case. Their exchanged words are softer than what can be made out. The back and forth is short but brings them knelt to the ground with the case opened.

Her weapons, Din realizes quickly. Daggers, blasters, detonators. A rifle half the size of her body. She fills her pockets with possible destruction and slings the firepuncher over her back.

She’s overdressed for the occasion, certainly a diplomatic one, but Din also stands with his own rifle, spear, and jetpack.

They’re too similar.

Last, she’s handed a small pack, attached to the back of her speeder seat.

A cloak, a water canteen, few rations, the treaty.

Fennec tells her to be smart, loud enough to know Din would hear. In response, Lumina slides on a pair of gloves. She straddles her bike and pulls on her helmet.

Fennec says his name: “Din.”

Lumina drives away.

He follows

---

She leads drive in total silence as twin suns burn their covered skin. When they begin to reach their peak in the sky, Din connects to the channel in her helmet.

He suggests they pull off to rest, eat, relieve themselves. He’s familiar with the trail they journey, and they’re approaching a tribe of local Tuskens. He says they’re friendly people and would surely grant them safety.

“What do you say?” he asks. “What do you think?”

She pulls back, allowing him to take the lead.

The stay is short. Two hours at most. They ask if she is an unspoken, a mute. In response, Lumina rubs her stomach:

Sick.

---

They arrive to Freetown sometime in the late afternoon, speeders skidding to a halt. Lumina disembarks with an effortless air of cool, shaking her head free of the helmet. An unfamiliar face, claiming himself to be deputy, greets the pair.

“Howdy ma’am,” he says, tipping his hat. “Might I ask your business here in this town?”

“We’re here to speak with Marshal Vanth,” Din answers.

“The Marshal ain’t taking visitors,” he says. “Not til I vet ‘em at least.”

Lumina’s fist bunches at her side, Din steps up. “Why don’t you get the Marshal before something happens?”

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s advice. Take it.”

“Now listen here—”

“Stand down, Deputy.” Cobb Vanth, unmistakable arrogant swagger in his step. “These fine folk mean no harm.” He shrugs. “Far as I can tell anyway.” He takes Lumina’s hand, pressing a kiss to the back. “Lady Fett,” he greets. “Pleasure to see you again. I apologize for my… deputy there. He’s new. You understand.”

“I expect to be treated with more respect than an interrogation Marshal.” She removes her hand. “If you wish to continue having a deputy, you’ll correct his error.”

His tongue clicks. “Yes ma’am. Should I grovel for forgiveness now or later?”

“Don’t tempt me.” She walks past him. “How are the new water sourcers working out?”

“Better than great.”

“And the bordering trade routes?”

“They cause no trouble. I’ve got men keeping eye, no Pykes, no spice.” Cobb seems to just now catch attention onto Din, awkward in position by Lumina’s bike. “Well I’ll be damned,” he says. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever show your mug round these parts again.”

Din nods. “Marshal.”

“Cobb.”

“Cobb. Haven’t seen you since you gave up the armor. How’ve you been?”

“More careful. What brings you up here? Didn’t take you as a diplomat, Mando.”

“Din. And… I’m not.” Lumina freezes up ahead, Cobb follows his line. “Just thought I’d tag along.”

The Marshal looks back, pointing, Really? he mouths. He whistles. His eyes ask, How’s that working out?

Din’s head shakes. “Her folks thought you’d need some sweet talking.”

“Is that right?” He chuckles. “They worried that much?”

“Not for you.”

Cobb nods, pensive. “We get along just fine, me and her. She and her old man, they come round every now and then.”

“Is that so?”

“Sure is. Wanted to thank the fella who kept the armor safe. Should’ve guessed you knew em too… Can I ask you something?”

“Course.”

“You trust them?” Cobb asks. “I mean really trust em. You gotta understand it’s more than myself I gotta look out for here. This town depends on me, and putting our faith in some city sluggers that ain’t even from here… it’s a hell of a plea. Either way this turns, I gotta be sure I ain’t making a mistake.”

“I’ve read the deal she wrote, ’s better than good.”

“But do you trust them?”

He doesn’t know why he says, “I do.”

---

Negotiations take upwards of three hours. As expected, the Marshal pushes against proposed taxation rates, he mocks the idea of a tribute.

Din is convinced Lumina was made for the Senate. Some great politician or lawyer. She understands policy like it is art, she gives where she needs but holds strong.

He feels the Darksaber on his hip and is reminded of Boba Fett’s words. “You first taste of politics coming from an expert…”

If this is his future, he is wholly unprepared.

Though any aide from the Fetts going forward seems nonexistent.

“So we’re at an agreement?” Lumina asks, hands folded on the table.

Cobb blows out hot air from puffed cheeks. “It would seem so.”

She doesn’t smile until he signs, and even then carries the emotion with calculation.

They shake hands.

“Freetown is now under the sworn protection of the Daimyo of Mos Espa and the Fett name,” she says. “Congratulations Marshal Vanth.”

---

By nightfall, the people of Freetown host a celebration. They are kind and generous. They build a fire outside town and share their roast. The children are polite, the adults respectful.

She is especially kind and Din’s stomach turns for expecting otherwise.

They sit on opposite sides of the fire. She entertains babbles of the young, though he is unsure whether she understands at all.

The Force, he remembers; translations of emotion through the mind, as Ahsoka had explained with Grogu. That must be it.

Lumina doesn’t smile, she doesn’t attempt one either. But she nods along, pats a shoulder, and closes her eyes every now and then.

They offer her food and she does not take.

They ask why.

She gives the same excuse.

Sick.

He can’t remember if she ate the night before and debates interjection.

Ultimately, he decides it to not be his place.

---

Din watches Lumina like she were an animal behind a cage and still continued to fear that she may indeed someday break loose. His face is warped by the fire and she tries to look at him as little as possible, but she is not as strong as she would like to believe.

Or, she is just as weak as she knows to be.

Either is an accurate assessment.

It is her fault, she thinks, truly at the end of it all. She is meant to be better. Unattached. Expectant of the worst.

And yet—

Feeling is overwhelming, but she isn’t sure what this is.

It may be love, the nasty effects of it. The long lasting resentment and care.

Tatooine has gone to the dogs and she has taken her place among them.

It isn’t her fault he carried too much faith, she warned him after all. He should have known.

He should have.

And maybe she isn’t so awful, maybe he should have tread more careful in worship. Maybe she is worth something. Maybe the hounds aren’t all bad.

She looks at the Mandalorian.

He stands. He leaves.

She thinks too much.

---

Din picks apart half a roasted rib in his own solitude from the crowd. The meat is wet, he feels a cannibal with juices dripped down his chin.

In the nearer distance, he faces subjection to a grouping of animals and their screams. His helmet locks on just as Lumina rises over the nearest sand dunes apex. Marshal Vanth calls for a retreat at her side. The shouts comes again, echoing in the night air.

They each grip the sabers swinging on their hips.

Lumina skids down the sand with skilled precision. She reminds him of a blood sniffer, turning her head one way to the other.

“What is it?” he asks.

“We call it Devil’s Hound,” the Marshal says. “Predators of the land… it’s best to retreat.”

Her hand raises. “Sh.”

The wind blows, she takes off running.

Din swears and chases.

---

“Lumina. Lumina!”

Head first into darkness, the moon’s lights guide through blindness.

He catches up when she stops and is only slightly out of breath. Din follows a blood speck trail stretching from the edge of his vision to a creature a quarter her size laid on the sand. She stands over the body, four feet from him.

They hear Marshal Vanth, fuzzed in the background, calling them away.

“Lu,” Din says.

“She’s hurt.”

Her first words to him in seventeen hours: She’s hurt.

She’d heard it, the in fighting, of course she had. The terrorized yelps had only hit Din’s ears when she appeared over the dune.

He gets a better look at the animal, an anooba. The runt of its litter if size if anything to go by, bleeding from its ribs and neck. Its gray fur looks black with the lack of light, and the blood an oil spill.

Lumina crouches by the animals head, slowly reaching out. It wheezes, strangled grunts fighting the affection.

“Don’t,” Din says with no fight in his voice.

“You poor thing…” Gently, she rubs the anooba’s muzzle, guiding up its cheek. “Do you have a light?” she asks Din. “It might not be that bad.”

He reaches in his pockets, the small torch attachment to his helmet fumbling out. He bangs the hold against his palm. “There’s no charge,” he says. “Haven’t needed it since—”

“Give it.” She holds out her hand.

“It doesn’t work.”

She doesn’t budge. She hits her palm to the metal all the same, frowning. “C’mon,” she mumbles, pulling off the top. She twists the lightbulb out of its socket, rubbing her thumb over its base and electrical contact. “Put pressure on her wound, help stop the bleeding.“

“Lu—”

They both know what he’s attempting to say. The animal is unknown, possibly rabid, dangerous. It’s too small, its breathing is already shortening.

Anooba’s travel in packs, there’s a reason it was left behind.

“She’s just a baby,” Lumina says. “Give her a chance.”

In coming days he’ll wonder what could have happened differently had he not hesitated now.

He’s selfish enough to believe this is all another ploy at first. An attempt to turn his perspective, another manipulation of character. She knows all too well the image painted within the desert. She must.

But then Din looks at her, really looks at her. She’s sitting with the anooba—this thing called evil with no evidence—its head panting on her lap.

He’s reminded of the word.

Sick.

Lumina won’t let go of the lightbulb. She’s muttering and growing more frustrated and she won’t let go. They stand on the line.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

As life fades from the creature eyes, Din catches a flicker of light from her palm.

He never tells her.

He is resolved to himself, his guilt, and his love.

---

They are.

She is.

But so is he.

In that, there is comfort.

Perhaps peace.

In time, forgiveness.

---

The Marshal tells them there’s only one spare room, neither are sure if he’s lying but they don’t push. Lumina spends ages at the fresher sink, washing away blood. Din strips himself of armor.

They make do.

“I can stay outside,” he suggests. “Keep watch.”

“For what?”

He shrugs, sitting on the edge of the bed.

They don’t do well with silence.

“I’m sorry.”

Exhibit A.

Lumina shrugs. “I deserved it.”

He says her name.

She steps in-between his legs, taking off his helmet. The hissing lacks its usual terror in her soul. His as well. “I ruined your life. You fucked me and left. It’s okay, I’ve had worse.”

“I’m sorry,” he says again, whispered. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.” His head leans against her stomach, his eyes shut tight. “Gods I’m so sorry.”

She almost warns against his prayer, but it is proof of her. Of them. She wants to say it’s okay again, that she would leave herself if given the chance.

Lumina considers the possibility that she is becoming kind by not saying anything at all.

She pets his hair.

“You hurt me,” she says. “On purpose. I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I got scared.”

“Of me?”

“Of everything.” She feels his mouth open, close, and open again. “I have to protect the kid.”

“From me.”

“No. You’re the reason he’s alive. I know you wouldn’t hurt him but… I don’t want him to end up like you. I have to protect him the way someone should have protected you. You—You’re so unhappy. All the time. I don’t know if you’ve ever been happy.”

“I was happy on Naboo.”

“You almost drowned yourself.”

“I can’t swim.” She shrugs. “I wanted to go while things were still good.”

Din swears. He looks up at her with wide brown eyes, his chin on her stomach. She cups his jaw.

“I’m happy with Boba,” Lumina says. “I’m happy being outside… I was happy with you. I was always happy with you. Happy with your kid. I never taught him anything bad. Ever. You have to believe that.”

“I do. But I need the kid to be happy Lu, I need that. He needs that. I can’t have him growing up and not be able to have doors to his room, or set knives at the table. I can’t be scared that someday he’s just gonna… What happened between us… I didn’t mean to—not that I regret it. I don’t, and I shouldn’t have left, and I do—” he stops short. “I do——I do. But I can’t. I can’t. I can’t let you back in. I don’t know what’s happening to you, but I won’t put the kid through it. I won’t let him watch you fade. I’m sorry.”

Lumina leans over, dragging Din into a gentle kiss. “I understand.”

---

They don’t mean to go longer. They don’t mean to undress. They don’t mean to repeat mistakes.

Or they do.

The longer the night goes, they do.

They mean every bit.

---

There is a certain exhaustion which comes with the onset of perpetual grief. It is all encapsulating, a black lace veil over the vision of life. Lumina, through all her years of grief has known nothing but exhaustion. For the life of her, she cannot imagine a life without.

That is why the dark is comforting. In a literal and spiritual sense. The dark side, that being of the Force, is her sole provider, the fuel of her life. She is pained and miserable, but finds it a comforting sign she is aware enough to still recognize pain.

She is not totally lost, only misguided.

The literal darkness is less neurotic, though more a psychology. She can’t see in front of her face, much less her company to the left, so she considers the situation an overall win.

Yes there is darkness, yes she alone, yes she is burdened. This is normal, though she wishes it weren’t.

Her wrist hurts.

So does the rest, but the former is a constant reminder.

It’s a little ironic. The strength of a Sith comes in total control and she is uncontrollable. She is a panic. She is unknown. She is abstract. She is unexplained.

A genetic miracle. A clone. A strandcast. A theoretical image of optimal health and appearance.

She shouldn’t feel so worthless.

Out of all the possible paths of life placed in front, she has chosen in error, the worst of them. No power. No family. No being. Mere existence feels selfish without purpose now. She was created for a purpose. Or so she assumes. Born of a darkness, forever trapped.

Escaping feels more a futile effort now more than ever.

Though she’d like to stop crying.

Briefly she wonders if she is meant to be pretty when in that emotion as well.

As said before, everything is exhausting.

Everyday she takes on the new infections of illness. A light head when standing, a cough, fatigue, dizziness. She can’t stand for long, fighting became out of the question months ago.

Her skin is too tight on her bones. She can’t breathe. She can’t stop shaking. Her heart pounds.

This may be another aspect of sickness.

The end, if she has anything to say about it.

Something has to change.

She refuses to be found here.

---

The room is left tidy. Her escape is simple and discreet.

---

Din wakes up alone as sunlight beams into the bedroom. Half the bed is made, aside from himself it looks as though it had never been slept in. The other side is cold.

He dresses slow.

He worries. He worries after the fresher is found empty and dry. He worries when Cobb says he hasn’t seen her. He worries when the Weequay points out her missing bike. He worries until he’s handed a note left inside the cantina.

“Everything alright?” Cobb asks.

“Yeah…” he says. “Everything’s fine.”

The eight hour drive back to Mos Espa late that morning takes a millennia. Scribed aurebesh burns a hole in his pocket:

Gone to where you’d hunt me.

Saying goodbye.

--------

Chapter 39: Pyre (Interlude)

-------

Taglist: @lexloon @jay-bel @xsadderdazeforeverx @spideysimpossiblegirl @sarahjkl82-blog @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @hello-th3r3

#starlight #din djarin x original character #din djarin x ofc #din djarin x oc #din djarin x original female character #mando x ofc #mando x oc #din djarin x female oc #the mandalorian #Mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic #mando x original character #mando x original female character

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tired0artist · 1 year

Text

| the price of freedom |

a comic from a scene from my din djarin love story (links below). i had sooooo much fun making it! hope that you like it!

TW: blood and violence

Velia fell on the ground with a shout, that made the Mandalorian who was watching all this time, flinch. His fists shaking as he watched his partner go through all of this, his senses screaming at him to kill everyone and take her away.

Down in the arena the nautolan woman cheered and kicked the human woman, who was struggling on the ground.

“I told you that you will perish!” the angry woman yelled, kicking V’s wounded thigh once again “I am the champion now!”

As the nautolan walked around Velia, taunting her and cheering to the crowd. She slowly took one of the rocks that were scattered among the sand in the arena, closing her fist around it.

Her opponent walked by her side screaming “I will kill you! For my sister and my new glor—“

She didn’t get to finish, as Velia raised her hand that tightly held the rock and hit her on her tibial bone. The nautolan woman fell on her back as her bone broke.

Velia quickly got on top of her and punched her face with her rock, watching as some teeth got knocked out along with blood. She raised her hand again and continued to hit her opponent, when finally she raised both of her hands holding the bloody rock between them and with a shout hitting the nautolan for the last time.

The crowd cheered as Velia was the last fighter left.

The champion.

But the woman didn’t feel victorious at all, as she shakily got up and let the bloody rock fall on the ground. She stared at her blood soaked hands and watched them shake, when finally looking up at the balcony where her Mandalorian stood.

He slowly nodded at her and for a second Velia tapped into the storm around her, ignoring the demand for more blood and pain. Instead she reached towards her partner for the first time in days and felt his warm aura, that was screaming in worry and rage. But still she basked in it a bit, before looking around the arena at all the bodies around her.

The price of freedom, she thought bitterly.

chapter thirteen: the price of freedom from CONCEALED on ao3 by TypicalNerd98 and wattpad by typicalwriternerd

full version:

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wrathkitty · 1 month

Text

Short Debts Make Long Friends - Snippet from chapter 19

He lifts the helmet from his head, sets it aside, and turns to confront his reflection in the mirror.

Dank farrik, he needs a haircut.

He leans in to take a closer look at himself, frowning. All things considered, it could be worse. Split lip, and he’s got the beginnings of a black eye, but it’ll be dark and you won’t see, and the blood and grime will be easy to clean. But should he wash off or use the sonic? And shaving, when was the last time he shaved –

Why is he even thinking about something as stupid as shaving! He told you he’d be a few minutes, and he’s already wasted, what, one minute – oh fuck it’s already been three —

He quickly concludes that anything that has touched the same air as Kaba Baiz needs to go in the sonic, his person included. As for what to put back on…

He releases the fasteners on his cuirass, thinking hard. His base layers are short sleeved. You are wearing short sleeves, and you have asked him to hold you in bed. The thought of touching your arms with his bare hands is intoxicating; any more mutually exposed skin and…

Shuddering, he hauls himself into the shower and starts peeling everything off.

There is a reason he has always avoided sharing a bed. You never knew – you had left for the Cantina by then, thank God – but one single night spent lying beside you had resulted in a wet dream so vivid that he had woken up rutting the mattress.

Part of the problem was simply being long overdue for release – raising Grogu did not lend itself to much time spent alone, and during the rare instances he found himself alone, he usually was too tired to entertain thoughts of anything other than sleep. But for a man accustomed to ignoring his baser instincts, that morning in Mos Eisley had left him shaken, nearly to the point of paranoia.

Din grimly looks down at the pile of clothing at his feet. The sonic’s as good as a disinfectant, but every fiber in his flight suit seems imbued with death, and he doesn’t have a spare.

Does that make me a monster?

He winces, remembering the torture in your eyes. He can’t wear the flight suit. He just can’t. He’ll just have to wear his base layers and stay awake till morning, which won’t be a problem because right now he is so keyed up that he will be awake until the day he dies.

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

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#thar be smut ahead #fucking finally #pun intended #slow burn still applies though #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #din x reader #mando x original female character #short debts make long friends #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #baby yoda

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imabeautifulbutterfly · 1 year

Text

Sins of The Father - Chapter 35

Summary: Adi makes a decision that will impact the rest of his life

A/N: Hello Lovelies!

I’m back, oh man I’m so happy not to be having any sort of migraines, still getting slight headaches here and there but nothing compared to what I was having in October. Nothing preventing me from writing at least so woohoo.

I’m already working on the next chapter for Gym Membership, hoping to get that out to you guys in two weeks. Thank you for sticking around and being patient.

Not to mention 300! I’m at 305 or 307 followers, I can’t believe it, that’s so amazing. I love you all.

I am going to come up with a 300 celebration, not sure yet about the exact celebration, but I shall let you know soon.

Italics - flashback

Warnings: Grief, kissing, slight make out, mentions of slavers, death, I think that’s it. If I miss any warnings please let me know.

AO3 Link | Words: 5,204 | Previous -> Next

Main Master List | Sins of the Father Master List

CHAPTER 35: THE INHERITANCE

Adi’s hands trailed over his father’s armour, he could still remember vividly the last time he had seen Ca’tra, he was almost three years younger, a lot shorter, but he could still remember the feeling Ca’tra always exuded: impenetrable, invincible, and everlasting.

He remembered thinking it was all some elaborate joke, when his mom came out of the Sintas telling him, his father wasn’t coming back. He was convinced it was only a matter of time before Ca’tra would miraculously appear behind his Ama, or simply jump out and yell surprise at the most random of times, or end up showing up in another ship. Even when he saw Ca’tra’s armour in the sack she was using to carry it home, he was unwavering in his belief it had been someone else’s armour.

It was about two days later, when his comms continually went unanswered, his mother’s unending tears, and the silence that had fallen in the house, along with the constant visits from Babeh, Gregor, Pelli and surrounding friends, was he fully persuaded in his heart his father was never coming back.

The family he had dreamed of for so long was gone, the father he looked up to, the man who trained him, who held him when he cried, who had treated him like a son from the moment he appeared in their lives had disappeared from his life permanently.

The ship was in hyperspace, only two parsecs away from Kashyyyk, he took a moment to really think about the decision he was going to make, was this what he wanted? To follow in the steps of his grandfather, mother and father? To follow the Mand’alor? Did he see himself as a Mandalorian? As a warrior? Was it right for him to put on the armour that would define who he was, where he stood in the galaxy, and how he connected to the creed?

He hadn’t tried it on, not even when his mother opened the cache and showed him the armour on Papsr. He was tempted. His eyes kept focusing on the helmet that had appeared so menacing and so comforting at the same time. He sat down on his bunk, holding the helmet in his hand, he took in a deep breath and put it on, almost instantly the HUD activated, everything looked different. It would take time to get use to wearing a helmet all the time, but not uncomfortable or impossible to adjust too.

There was a small yellow icon on the top right corner of the HUD flickering, his eyes focused on the icon. The screen went black for a second before what looked like their common room in their house appeared, the torso of a man appeared, as hands adjusted the helmet back and forth, until Adi saw Ca’tra sit down on the chair in front of the helmet.

He looked young, fresh, fit, a cheery smile on his face, his hand running through his hair, as he fixed himself.

‘Hi Adi’ he offered a small wave, as his face only brightened. ‘Not sure when you’ll be seeing this, but if you are seeing this, that means I’m not around.’

Adi felt his throat begin to tighten, as the voice he hadn’t heard in almost three years filled his ears.

‘It’s late, your Ama and you have just gone to bed. In case your wondering it’s the night of when I proposed to your mom.’ The dimple that only appeared when Ca’tra ever looked at Amara or when he spoke about her graced his smile.

‘You might not remember but we stayed up late partying and planning our future as a family; I made you some promises tonight, and I’m sorry I failed in those promises Adi. Ner ad’ika, I wanted to fulfill those promises with all my heart and might, but as your mother constantly reminds me, life’s a pazaak game, unless you can cheat your way through it, you never know the hand you’ll be dealt.’

His eyes started to water at seeing the man he missed from his life, there were no words to say how much he wanted to be by that man’s side right now. How much he wanted to feel his hand tussle his hair, like he use to do. To smell his scent of gunpowder, grease, dust, musk, and the metallic scent that always seemed to linger around him.

‘I just wanted to um …’ Ca’tra rubbed the back of his neck, ‘Ha! You know I’m not good with words, not really good with anything except your mom and you. You both have given me so much more than I ever thought I would get in this life.’

Adi could feel a tear slide down his cheek, he went to wipe it, only to feel the coldness of the beskar helmet.

‘Adi’ka, ner ad, I know you think I call you these things simply because of your mom, but that’s not the case. Ever since I met you, and you tried to punch me for hitting on your mom …’ Ca’tra smiled and let out a chuckle, ‘I knew I wanted you to be my child. You are my child. My little one. I love you Adi … maybe I should use your real name, Khoan Vel.’

Ca’tra took in a deep breath, ‘You are an amazing son, Khoan. There’s something I wanted to do, and I’ll do it at the wedding and make it official. Not sure if it’ll count if I do it this way, but in the event I don’t make it then, I want you to know how much you mean to me.

Ni kyr'tayl gai sa'ad, Khoan Vel (I know your name as my child - adoption rites).

From this moment on, you are my son Khoan Vel Gaan.

Ner ad’ika, my son, you are a joy and a light in my life I never expected. I know there will be times when we butt heads, and we may even end up getting angry with one another and never talking. However, I want you to know no matter what, I love you my son. I will always be here for you, and I will always love your mother and you.’

Adi watched as Ca’tra wiped away a tear, he wanted to run into his father’s arms, he wanted to tell him he would always be his son, he’d never let him down.

‘Adi, there may be a time when your mom will meet another man, someone who will make her happy, someone who will make her laugh, who will fill her life with love and joy. It may be hard for you at times to see someone else step in to my shoes, but if it’s for her, promise me you will take the time to get to know him, to see what she sees in him. However, if you think that he’s not worthy of being by her side, then make his life a living hell. You have my permission.’

Ca’tra chuckled at little, it made Adi chuckle along with him, he wondered how he would feel knowing Din was the one who had captured his Ama’s heart.

‘I’m kidding, well to a degree. Just … just don’t let him in too easy, throw him some curveballs here and there, although knowing your mother, she’d be doing that already. Son, there are so many things I want to tell you, so many things I feel I should impart.’

Ca’tra cleared his throat, his thumb and forefinger passing over his lips, pursing them together, “Okay, first things first, this armour, this is for you. Whether you decide to take the six tenets or not, this is your inheritance as my son. Some may say that you are not deserving of it, or that only those that are truly Mandalorian are allowed to wear the armour. Well tell them … you know what, tell them where they can stick their unsolicited comments, and make sure they shove it so deep it gives them …’ Ca’tra cleared his throat again, ‘Sorry, got a little carried away, what I’m trying to say, don’t listen to what anyone else tells you. This armour … is yours and yours alone.’

Adi wanted so much to have his father there, to have the man who took him in without a second thought, who taught him how to defend himself, how to be there for his mom in a way he never thought of. He wished above all else that he was there telling him these things in person, rather than in a holovid.

’Adi there will come a time in your life when you’ll meet someone who - ohh how do I say this … it’s different for everyone, it could start off as hate, it could be as simple as a hello, they could end up being your best friend. Somehow, in some way, there’s a moment when you look at that person and you realize in that moment your life will never be the same. Imagining your life without them beside you, without their smile, their jokes, their kindness, whatever it is that draws you to them, all of a sudden you will realize they complete you, they make you whole. When that happens ad, you have to promise me. Promise me you won’t push them away, you won’t make them feel less then they deserve. At the same time make sure they don’t make you feel less than who you are, or unworthy to be by their side. You are a brilliant kid, smart, stubborn like your mom, kind, quick witted, and you have a big heart Adi.

Love is a tricky thing, sometimes you think you love someone, fight to be by their side, only to realize you never stood a chance. And that’s okay. It’s okay to try and lose, because it means you were brave enough, courageous enough, and willing to do something most don’t have the courage to do.

Then there could be a moment, when your heart is breaking and you don’t think you’ll ever find the right one, and you stumble upon a garage with a pair of legs sticking out from underneath a speeder and you realize the love you thought you had for someone else, could never measure up to the love you really feel for the right one.

Just remember to always treat them with respect, treat them with kindness and compassion, treat them with the honour and dignity they deserve whether the relationship works out or it doesn’t. They opened their heart to you, that’s a privilege they grant you.’

It surprised Adi to see him wipe a tear, he let out a soft chuckle as he wiped a tear away ‘I know a grown man crying… these tears are because I am happy and blessed to have found you and your mother. Don’t be afraid to cry Adi. Don’t be afraid to show emotion. There’s nothing wrong with being able to show emotions and cry, there are some who would say it’s ‘unmanly’ to cry, ignore them. Tell them to stick their advice the same place as those who tell you, you can’t wear the armour.’

Ca’tra glanced at something on the wall behind the helmet, and then back at the visor, ‘Adi, I have so much more I need to tell you, however, I also have to get up in a few hours. I’ll be making recordings throughout of things that I feel I should tell you, they’ll all be stored in this helmet. Don’t worry you’ll be able to find them easily enough.

I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to tell you these things in person, son. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it back to you. I will try with all my might to make my way back to you, but if I can’t know that I didn’t give up easily, know that I gave it my all to make it back to you and your mom.

Even though I might not be by your side physically, at least you’ll have these holovids, and my own amazing wisdom.’ Ca’tra chuckled rubbing his hair, ‘Your mom will probably tell me that my wisdom is something that no one should listen to’ he let out another chuckle.

‘I love your mom, Adi, and I love you. You are both my family, and the day we will get to be united as one clan, will be the day that my world feels complete. You may not want a family of your own Adi, and that’s fine, you don’t have to try to live the life I lived, or to follow your mom’s footsteps either. You just follow your own path, whatever your decide or choose, we will be proud hakayrus (parents) because you are our son and we love you very much..’

Ca’tra stood from his seat and pressed a button on his vambrace, the recording finished, and the hud simply showed him his room. He took off the helmet wiping his eyes of the tears he had been shedding for the past while.

He looked at the helmet once his vision was back and no longer obstructed by the tears that were simply free flowing at hearing his father’s voice again. His fingers tightened around the helmet, as he pressed his forehead against it, “I miss you dad, I miss you so much. Thank you.”

He placed the helmet beside him, as he stood. The tears wiped clean. He opened his compartment, and pulled out a new flight suit, he laid it on his bunk beside the armour. He wasn’t sure if this was the right thing to do, but he felt he had to do this.

He took a knee in front of his father’s helmet, placing his hand on top of it, gently, reverently. He took in a deep breath, and closed his eyes bowing his head towards his father’s helmet..

“Teh ibic kusa'yr Ni malyasa'yr surya arsaor ti kar'ta be a Mando. Ni danija at oyacyir ner jibr miasa'iaru yaa mateh gotal'ur jid giarioa, buir. Ni vor entye par e'lyreu'anr ka bal par daorida at hbina ka. Ni malyasa'yr draar digur gar” (From this moment I will wear you armour with the heart of a Mandalorian. I vow to live my life in that manner that would make you proud, father. I thank you for teaching me and for continuing to guide me. I will never forget you.)

Maybe the rites didn’t count since it was via a holovid and not in person, however knowing that Ca’tra Gaan made the effort to do this for him, was willing to take him on in front of everyone as his son, meant more to him than he ever realized.

He stood changing out of the clothes he had and slowly putting on his new attire, he took his time adjusting the flight suit before putting on every single piece of armour, double checking all the weaponry on it like his hakayrus taught him, every time they donned their armour. He didn’t have any gloves, that would be something he could purchase later on. He attached his cuirass, took in a deep breath as he lifted the helmet and placed it on his head.

He took his time to open his eyes, viewing his world through the hud. It was a disorienting experience at first, there was a lot of information. He walked around his room, getting use to the new visuals. He was walking backwards, when a red light flashed on the left hand corner, showing him what was behind him, he moved his hand behind his head, seeing his fingers wiggling.

Seeing all the features the buy’ce (helmet) had to offer, made him realize how amazing Ca’tra, his Ama, Babeh and Din were, they were able to see all that information and still be the badasses they were. They absorbed, assimilated and acted on the information provided to them, within an instant. Although he had played around and been taught how a buy’ce works, it was very different to see it in action.

He felt like a new born fathier, trying to find his footing, it was very different walking around and dealing with all the added information, little icons popped up when he looked at certain items. He remembered his father telling him, ‘focus on what you need to see and what’s important at the moment.’

He practiced for a bit longer before he decided to venture out of his room.

- - - - - - - - - -

Amara was focused on the readout in front of her, she had noticed the hyperdrive was running a bit sluggish, it was still pushing an optimal output however, she never liked it when her ship dipped below her own acceptable levels. She smirked hearing Din’s voice in her head ‘Mesh’la you know, it will still run.’

She chuckled remembering their bickering.

’Sweetie, I know you loved your Razor, but if I ever saw your ship and how you attempted to repair it, you and I would’ve never happened.’

Din laughed, his jovial booming voice bouncing off the walls, ‘I promise you, I took a lot better care of the Razor than you think I did.’

‘From the way you describe it, it certainly doesn’t sound like it.’

‘The Crest was my home, my lady, of course I took care of her.’ He leaned over pressing his forehead against hers, ‘The same way I take care of you.’

‘Are you saying, you’re just finding the easiest and fastest fix for me?’

‘Never’ Din placed a gentle kiss on her cheek, as he shifted closer to her on the couch, Adi wasn’t home yet, he was sparring with Fennec, and Grogu was napping in the room he was sharing with Din. Din’s hand cradled her jaw gently as he slowly turned her head to look at him, ‘I’d use only the very best materials and the most exceptional mechanics to fix you’

‘Oh, so you’re saying I do need fixing?’

Din’s eyes widened as a confused look appeared on his face, ‘No, that’s not what I’m saying at all. I think you’re perfect the way you are.’

‘Oh, then I’m a mess you don’t want to bother with?’

‘No! That’s not … what I mean is …’ Din looked flustered not sure what was the right thing to say, he was ready to apologize to grovel, when he saw a smirk appear on her lips, as her eyes sparkled.

‘You’re so easy’ Amara laughed out, he let out a frustrated sigh, chuckling along with her as he pulled her towards his lips, kissing her with a passion he had forgotten existed within him. She shifted till she was sitting on his lap, running her fingers through his hair. When they both pulled back in order to catch a breath, ‘We should probably stop.’

Din nodded against her forehead, as his hands found their spot on her waist, ‘Yeah, we should otherwise I won’t be able to stop’

‘Not to mention, this is not something I would want my son or your son to walk in on’

‘True’ Din pecked her lips, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek followed by a kiss on her neck, ‘Yeah’ his warm moist breath flushed over her neck, ’I don’t think Adi would appreciate seeing this …’ he pulled back to look at her, his hand caressing her face, ‘You are so beautiful.’

‘You don’t have to do that’

‘I’m serious, cyar’ika. You have no idea how beautiful you are, every time you smile, you look at me, every time I see you take care of those you love, those who are in need, I am amazed by your beauty inside and out, you are amazing and I am honoured to be by your side.’

She pressed her lips against Din’s, deepening the kiss by tilting his head back, ‘You know …’ she mumbled against his lips, ‘We won’t …’ she tried to get out, as he chased her lips, ‘Be able to…’ his hand shifted to the back of her head pressing her lips back against his, chasing her taste as though it was the very air he needed to breathe, ‘For a while.’

‘Why do you think I keep trying to hold on to this moment?’ He quirked his eyebrow as he smirked at her.

Amara cleared her throat, this wasn’t the time to be lost in thought. Adi hadn’t said much since they arrived at Papsr and as soon as they boarded the Sintas he locked himself in his room with the armour. She tried to offer what she could as an explanation, but either he didn’t hear her or he wasn’t ready to listen was all she could determine from his silence.

She wandered to his door at least ten times since they took off from Papsr, however, she just couldn’t bring herself to knock on her son’s door. There were times when he just needed a moment to himself and there were times when he needed her, for right now, he needed space to deal with his grief.

The sound of the door sliding open behind her, gave Amara a sense of relief knowing that Adi was ready to talk, “How are you feeling?” She focused on the diagnostic report, giving Adi time to get his words ready. She didn’t want to force him or put him on the spot by staring at him.

“Ama” hearing his modulated voice, made the statement he was about to make all the more real. He watched as she slowly lifted her head and turned to look at him. She didn’t say anything, simply stood and walked over to him. She was visibly holding back the tears, as she stood in front of him.

“You put it on” Amara offered a smile through her trembling lips, he looked so much like Ca’tra in that moment, the way he was standing, the aura he exuded through the armour.

“I did” he cleared his throat, afraid his voice would start shaking.

“How does …” now it was her turn to clear her throat, if Ca’tra was there he would’ve been so proud of him, “How does it feel?”

“Good. Surreal. A little weird if I’m being honest.”

She nodded in agreement, “Yeah, I get that” her hand fidgeted with the wrist band she’d always worn on her wrist, it had belonged to Ca’tra. He gave it to her the morning of that fateful day, he wanted to give her something to help her realize he was always by her side.

“Is it okay if …” Adi motioned to the armour he was wearing.

Amara placed her hands on his helmeted cheeks, “Of course it is, that’s what he would’ve wanted. It suits you.”

“He … He left a holovid for me, he …” Adi cleared his throat, “He performed the Gai bal manda (adoption ceremony - literally ‘name and guardian’) on the holovid.”

There was a look of shock on Amara’s face, he never told her, he was planning to perform one via a holovid. The plan was to do it in front of all their family and friends at the onvior warasu’ir (wedding ceremony).

A smile spread across her face, “I’m happy for you. He loved you sooo much, not being able to do it in person really ate at him that day. I’m glad he was able to do it, even if it was via a holovid.”

“Does it still count?”

“Of course it does. Without a doubt. It counts.”

“The hud is hard to get use to”

“I know. It takes time. The trick is to keep your buy’ce on for as long as you can stand it, then take a break and try again, increasing the amount of time you wear it.”

“Is that how you learned?”

“More or less, except I played with Babeh’s helmet when he let me. Plus, I got really use to wearing the magnifiers I use while working on the engines. It’s a similar concept.”

“Oh true, no wonder it felt a little disorienting at first.”

“Are you going to paint it?”

“What?”

“The armour?”

“I don’t know. The white, black and blue just feel right.”

“I understand. Just know the option to change, is there. Do you remember what the colours mean?”

Adi nodded as he glanced down at his armour, “Blue means reliability, black signifies justice, and the white means a new start.”

Amara tugged him over to sit in the co-pilot seat, as she took her seat, her legs shifting on the chair until she was comfortable, she leaned her head back, chuckling to herself, “Do you know why he painted those colours?” She glanced over to Adi.

He simply shook his head no.

She smirked as she thought back to that moment, “He said he painted it blue, because even though he may be late, battered, and bruised, you could always count on him to show up. Eventually.”

“Yup, that sounds like him” he chuckled along with his mom, remembering the amount of times, he would arrive, bruised or just in the nick of time, “Why did he add the black?”

“Ahhh … that …” Amara took her time with that answer, she shifted a little in her seat, feeling the weight of the answer that was to come forth from her mouth, “When Ca’tra was a little boy, before he joined the fighting corp, he was living on Taris. It … let’s just say it wasn’t a nice place to grow up. After learning about what it meant to be Mandalorian, to see the way most valued honour and dignity, he understood what he wanted to bring to his life. Justice. Granted it was his own kind of justice, but it made him realize that was something seriously lacking in the universe.”

Adi was silent, nodding slowly, “No wonder”

“No wonder?”

Adi shifted in his seat, readjusting his flight suit, “Um … well Ca’tra made me promise not to tell you.”

“Not to tell me, about what?” Amara quirked her eyebrow as she looked at Adi, if Ca’tra was there she would have had it out with him, “Actually, how many times did Ca’tra make you promise not to tell me things.”

“It was just that one time…” he held up a finger, “Ok, maybe two times …” he slowly raised his second finger, before he shifted his head side to side raising his third finger, “Three. Definitely three times, but they were really good reasons”

“Mmhmm” she crossed her arms as she sat back, “What was it that he told you not to tell me?”

“This was about three months after we met him, you weren’t able to pick me up from school, so he volunteered.”

“Right, I think I remember this - - you guys ended up being half an hour late, and I was about ready to kill him.”

“Well the reason we were late, was because he … he was busy saving someone from a group of slavers.”

“What? He never told me this”

“He wasn’t sure how you’d react about him having to make a deal with slavers while your son sat beside him.”

Amara chuckled, “Well he had a point there, if I had learned about it then I would’ve probably killed him.” She settled in her seat, looking at her son, his coming-of-age ceremony was just a few weeks away, seeing him sit there in his father’s armour - - it all sunk in how much he had grown from that scrawny kid she saved all those years ago. “Well, what happened?”

“Ama you should’ve seen him, the way he reasoned with them, the way he tried to convince them to let the person go. He sat there only speaking when he needed to, and even though he had to eventually resort to threatening them, he was able to make sure the person was safe. He told me afterwards, all it takes to make sure justice is served is for one person to care. One person to offer help makes all the difference in the world.”

Amara couldn’t help smirking thinking about all the ways Ca’tra made an impact on their lives, from that first meeting, till the last moment he drew breath. “You know he added the white to his armour after he left the covert. He said it was his new start. A new start that led him to the best possible outcome. He always said the best choice he ever made was leaving the covert and finding his own way as a mercenary slash bounty hunter. He was glad his path led to us.”

“I am too” Adi smiled as he looked at his mom, even though she couldn’t see it he had no doubt she knew it was there. “I’m glad I’m his son; I’m grateful I have this as an inheritance” he motioned towards the armour, “It makes me feel in some way he’s still here with me … with us.”

She reached over holding her son’s bare hands, “Me too. I’m glad you have it.” She smirked at the fact he didn’t have gloves, he looked as though something was missing from his armour. “Tell me, does this mean you are going to take the Resol’nare or are you just honouring your father? Either way, I’ll support you.”

He gave her hand a squeeze before she shifted from her seat. He didn’t pay attention to what she was doing, as the console began beeping with an alert, “I’ve vowed to live my life in a way that will honour my father, and I believe taking the Resol’nare will honour him in the greatest way possible.” He reviewed the alert, “We’re coming up on Kashyyyk, we’ll be dropping out of hyperspace in about ten minutes.”

“Good” Amara took her spot again, passing Adi a small container, “I’ve been waiting for the right time to give you this.”

Adi glanced from the console to the container his Ama had in her hand, he took it carefully, opening it to find a pair of new gloves similar in design to hers and Babeh’s, it was made of the finest dewback leather. He put them on, flexing his fingers, listening to the creaking of the tension from the brand new leather. There was also a three-sided knife lying at the bottom of the container, as he held it up gently he recognized it as the one belonging to Ca’tra, “How…”

“I made sure that day, there was nothing of his left behind. I knew he would’ve wanted you to have it. After all, he inscribed your name on it.”

He turned it gently, to see the names of Ca’tra’s family, those of his biological family, and that of his adopted family. The last two names were the freshest engraved, Amara Vel (O’yare Fett), Khoan Vel Gaan. He couldn’t help smiling at their names, “I guess this makes it official, I’m his son.”

“His love for you made it official, that …” Amara motioned to the knife in his hands, as she prepared the ship to exit hyperspace, “Is proof of the love he had for you, the love he always felt for you. I’m glad you got to know him, Adi.”

“Me too.”

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