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theidiotwhowritesthings · 1 year

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Familiar & Unfamiliar

din djarin x female!reader

warning: attempted sexual assault (not by our boy mando, and i don’t describe it in depth the furthest it goes is non-consensual kissing), light smut, angst then comfort, then fluff fluff fluff, identity theft, mentions of slave trade, canon violence, dom!din trying hard to be sub!din for you, he doesn’t succeed for long

word count: 4,174

Summary: You travel the galaxy with a Mandalorian who is much softer than his impenetrable beskar would lead others to believe. He leaves you with his son to search for a Quarry, but it’s not the Mando you’ve come to know and love who returns to you.

“It shouldn’t take long.” Mando hummed as he collected his gear from his weapon’s storage. You sat cross legged on the Razor Crest’s floor with the child in your lap. His small green hand played with the small, metal ball he seemed to always find. Your hand stroked his ears only stopping to push the ball away from his mouth when he began to try and chew on it. Mando turned around to stare down at you. “Will you be alright here?”

After traveling with the Mandalorian for the last two months, babysitting and completing repairs on the ship, you had finally grown accustomed to the silver beskar covered man. Initially it had been difficult for you to even look at the man for longer than a second⏤ too intimidated by the black t-shape visor that stared back at you. However, joining him had been your only option at the time, an act of self preservation, so you had to push your fear aside. Luckily, you had quickly learned that though the metal he was covered in was impossible to penetrate, the man underneath was as soft as they come.

You learned that the solemn, silent, and dangerous facade Mando wore was more or less an interpretation of what people saw. Yes, he was dangerous. You had seen him wrestle quarries three time his size and come out unscathed, but you had also seen him humming a song under his breath while giving the child a bath. You had seen Mando go out of his way to purchase you a new pair of boots in the market simply because he noticed your discomfort with your current pair. The brief times you felt his touch, a brush against your arm or a hand on your back, it was soft and comforting. His eyes were impossible to see behind his helmet, but you could feel the care in his gaze. Having Mando’s attention on you felt like safety.

Mando called out your name and you blinked in surprise. “Oh, um, yeah! We’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“I shouldn’t be gone long. Days at most.” He reassured before you could even ask. You stood up and Mando drifted closer⏤ his gloved hand reached out brush the child’s head. Mando chuckled when his son cooed and giggled in response. You heard a long time ago that the best judge of a person’s character was how they treated animals and children. Mando passed that test with flying colors. “You remember the rules?”

“Hmm, no running with scissors?” You joked. Mando tilted his head and you chuckled. “Don’t open the Razor Crest’s ramp for anyone but you, and if I do have to leave for some emergency, get to a crowded spot with plenty of witnesses and talk to no one. Not until you come for us.”

Mando nodded in approval. He gave the child’s head one last pet along the ears and as his hand pulled away you felt his leather covered fingers drag down the length of your bare arm. Heat crept up the back of your neck and you prayed to any deity that was listening that Mando hadn’t heard the hitch in your breath. You were not attracted to your metal armored Mandalorian employer and friend. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself.

Without another word, Mando made his way to the back of the cargo hold. He opened the ramp before heading down and you called out for him to be careful. Mando glanced over his shoulder, at you and the child, and you waved. You stood at the cargo hold’s edge as Mando pressed a button on his gauntlet and the ramp began to rise. As the metal door rose, you stared at the mandalorian’s back until the ramp cut him off from sight.

Din was more distracted than usual and he told himself it wasn’t because of the newest addition to the Razor Crest. It obviously wasn’t because of you. No, he was just busy with all the bounties he was juggling and the stress of trying to find the child’s people. Then the added dilemma of his current quarry. Already he had been on the flesh trader’s trail for three days. Three full days. That was nothing in comparison to past hunts that would take him weeks on end, but Din found his patience wearing very, very thin.

“Are you ready yet, mate?” A voice asked through the closed door.

Din had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. His only lead came from a mercenary who was hunting an Inner Rim politician that had come all the way out here to participate in the slave trade. It was the only access Din would have to get into the market to find his quarry and it came at a cost. Din glanced down at the helmet held in his hands. It was an oddly shaped red thing from Kaleesh culture. His new mercenary partner made it very clear that if he walked in as a Mandalorian everything would be lost. On any normal bounty Din would’ve risked it anyways. There was very little in the galaxy that could coax him out of his armor, leave him bare to the world, but a child in danger did it.

A mother had come to him after he searched for a lead in the local cantina on his first night. She had fallen to her knees in front of him and begged for his help⏤ she offered everything she owned and more in return. Her only child, an eleven year old little girl, had been stolen away from her. Dragged to the flesh market to be sold. Din swore to her that he’d bring her back. On his word as a Mandalorian, she would be reunited with her daughter. He just wasn’t allowed to do it looking like a Mandalorian.

“Seriously, mate, we’re going to be late!” Trigg, the mercenary, barked once more.

Din settled the helmet over his head and shifted uncomfortably. It didn’t fit quite like his real one did, but it was tight enough that he wasn’t worried about it falling off in the heat of battle. For a second, he just stared at himself in the mirror. Red armor of cloth and leather covered every inch of his skin, black gloves pulled on tight, and his oddly shaped helmet covered his face entirely. Din hated it more than anything. But, the sooner he saved the girl and caught his quarry, the sooner he could return to his ship. Return to the child and you.

“I’ll be right out.” Din called back. He settled all his beskar armor pieces into the tarp bag he had borrowed from the child’s mother. It was her home they were using as a base of sorts. Din hid the bag in the closet of the room behind a stack of boxes. It made him anxious to leave his armor behind, but he forced himself to step away and open the door.

Trigg stood in the hall wearing his own personal gear. The blond man had scars from a raking claw on the side of his head leaving those patches with sparse hair. His arms were crossed over his chest and he stared at Din in a mix of annoyance and impatience. “Finally. Did you have to do your hair?”

“It’s you we’re waiting on now.” Din replied dryly as he marched past the man to the door.

The sooner, the better.

Night had fallen for the third night of Mando being gone. It was too soon for you to be worried about him, but a ball of anxiety still sat in your gut. He had been away for longer periods of time before. The longest thus far being three weeks. You were mumbling a soft song under your breath as you rocked the child to sleep. When his eyes drifted close, you carefully set him in the hammock above Mando’s bunk and tucked a blanket around him.

When you were certain that the kid was settled, you drifted toward the fresher to get ready for bed yourself. You wondered what it would take to convince Mando to pick up a bounty on a planet with an ocean soon. Going from the lava plains of Nevarro to the deserts of Tatooine and now this dusty Outer Rim world was bleak. You missed water. You had grown up near a river on your homeworld and spent a decent amount of time there. It wasn’t until you saw dry planet after dry planet that you truly began to appreciate natural bodies of water.

You shrugged out of your clothes, tossing them aside, and slid into a pair of shorts and one of Mando’s shirts. It had been borrowed early on in your travels and now it belonged more to you than it did him. The dark shirt was large enough to cover most of your shorts. You had been in the middle of washing your face when you heard the tell tale sound of the ramp. Quickly, you grabbed a towel and dried your face while rushing out of the fresher.

Mando was walking up the ramp just as you entered the cargo hold and you shot him a smile, “Hey, Mando.” He came to a sudden stop. You glanced around but saw no evidence of a quarry behind or near him. Had they gotten away? “What happened with the quarry?”

The Mandalorian crossed his arms and a nervous energy settled over your skin. The way he stood just seemed…off. And, the silence that surrounded him wasn’t the usual comfortable quiet you had grown used to. Mando’s helmet tilted some, as if his eyes were raking over your form, and you tugged on the bottom of your shirt anxiously. This was an outfit you wore to sleep every night on the Razor Crest, but right now was the first time you felt uncomfortable having it on around Mando.

“Are you⏤Are you injured?” You asked.

Mando strolled closer to you. Another bit of him that wasn’t right⏤ his gait. As you tried to gather your thoughts, he came to a stop right in front of you. Nearly chest to chest. A lump had formed in your throat, mouth dry, and you tried to swallow it down. Being around Mando always made your stomach feel as if it were filled with butterflies, made your heart race out of your chest, made an addicting warmth pool in your core.

That was not how you felt right now.

Your hand reached out, as quickly as you could manage it, and slammed against the lock button of Mando’s bunk. The metal door slid down. It clicked into place, and the Mandalorian in front of you grabbed you by the throat and shoved you back until you slammed into the Razor Crest’s wall. You clawed at the familiar, gloved hand tightening around your throat as a low, unfamiliar chuckle rumbled through the modulator.

“What’s wrong, baby?” A voice that did not belong to your Mandalorian asked. “Aren’t you happy to see me? You were a minute ago.”

“Wh⏤Who⏤” You tried to spit out but you could barely breathe let alone form words.

“I’m your Mandalorian, baby.” The cruel laugh coming out from behind the t-shape visor you found comfort in felt so very wrong. He yanked you off the wall and released your throat. You managed to gasp a single breath of air before he backhanded you across the face hard enough to see stars. You fell to your knees and elbows roughly, a cry of pain leaving your lips, but you struggled to find a weapon of any kind. “That’s right. Crawl away, baby. Run. I’m a Mandalorian who likes to hunt, and now you’re my prey. How’s that sound?”

Your hand found a screwdriver, lying off to the side where you had been working on something under the floorboard earlier, just as he kicked you in the side to flip you over. The imposter knelt on the ground over you and you tried to stab him where only the flight suit sat. Unfortunately, he turned fast enough that the screwdriver struck beskar and did absolutely nothing. He laughed once more as you gave up the attack to try and slip away, but he grabbed your hands by the wrist and pinned you to the ground. The imposter sat on top of your thighs, kneeling over you, and you were forced to stare at your reflection in Mando’s armor.

It would be a bold faced lie for you to say you hadn’t daydreamed about having the beskar armor on top of you⏤ the weight of it pressing into you in every delicious way you could think of. But not like this. Not with a stranger inside of it.

“Who knew the ship came with such a pretty little whore.” The imposter hummed. He shifted your arms so he could pin both your wrists with one hand. With his other, he grasped the bottom of the beskar helmet and pulled it off. The man’s eyes were a piercing blue. Cold and cruel. Blond hair covered his scalp except on the side of his head where the scars of what looked like claw marks sat. He tossed the helmet aside and gave you a sickening grin. “Is that what you’re here for? You keep the Mandalorian’s bed warm? Let him fuck you when he’s done with a hunt?”

“Get the kriff off of me!” You struggled against his grip, against his touch, but nothing seemed to deter him from using his other hand to run over your body. You screamed until you were hoarse and when you cried out for Mando the man sitting on top of you just laughed. Faintly, you could hear frantic tapping behind Mando’s bunk door and fear struck you. Was the child awake? He wouldn’t be able to unlock the door from inside you didn’t think.

It seemed the imposter was too immersed in you to hear the sound.

“How about this,” The man leaned closer into your space, “I get a quick taste of you now, and then, once we’re up and in hyperspace, I’ll fuck you better than your Mando ever could, yeah?”

His lips crashed down on yours roughly. You tried to turn your face away, but the imposter bit down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Between the metallic taste of your blood on your tongue and the smell of his rancid breath you were going to be sick. You gasped in pain and he took advantage by shoving his tongue into your mouth. He pressed his hips down into you, grinding against your stomach now, and the feel of his erection pressing into you made a horrified sob slip form you. It seemed to only spurn him on further. He let go of one of your hands to grasp at the waistband of your pants.

The sound of sprinting footsteps made the imposter sit up and you were barely able to register what was happening when a body dressed in red leather slammed into the beskar covered imposter⏤ both men falling away. Taking advantage of your freedom, you scrambled back as quickly as you could. The stranger dressed in red, wearing an oddly shaped helmet that covered his face, had a hand wrapped around the imposter’s throat while his other fist pounded away at the man’s face. Grunts of anger filled the air with every blow thrown and the imposter fought back only for a moment before his body went slack.

You scrambled away further but your back hit a metal crate sitting in the cargo hold. It shifted slightly and the sound made the stranger sit up and spin around. You gasped⏤panicked. Heart still racing. The imposter laid motionless. His face bruised, broken, and bloody beyond all recognition. You were breathing hard, trying to suck in more air as the air you did get brought no relief. The stranger jumped up, motions smooth and agile, and rushed to you. A cry of fear left you as you tried to pathetically jump up, but his hands wrapped around you. Soft, but firm. A comforting weight.

“It’s me. It’s me. You’re safe, mesh’la.” A familiar voice came out of the unfamiliar mask. The bright red and angry shapes still jarring to look at and you tried to struggle away. He pulled away to rip off his gloves. One hand came to rest on the side of your face, while the other lifted the red helmet just enough to reveal a jaw covered in dark scruff and lips. “Listen to me, mesh’la. You’re safe. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s me. I’m here.”

You were still shaking, your entire body threatening to tremble into pieces, but your breaths were beginning to grow controlled. The warm hand on your face was grounding. It was familiar. You couldn't see the man’s eyes, but you could feel his soft gaze. Safe. You felt safe.

“M⏤Mando?” You gasped.

“Yes.” He nodded. “I’m here, mesh’la. You’re safe now.”

You broke into an uncontrollable sob, unable to bite it back, and Mando didn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms. The coarse, red armor you buried your face into felt unfamiliar, but the strong arms that wrapped around you felt right.

For the first time, Din felt uncomfortable in his helmet. It smelled of the spice that Trigg disgustingly chewed on. He couldn’t even bring himself to pull his armor on. It left him in a pair of plain sweats and shirt. After setting you in his bunk, the child curled into your side, he had stripped the mercenary out of his beskar and thrown the piece of shit into the carbonite freezer.

The job had gone so well then so bad. Din found the young Rodian child and killed his quarry. He’d only get half the bounty with the flesh trader dead, but something was better than nothing. The moment he returned the girl to her mother his heart had stopped when he realized his armor was missing. Din had sprinted to the Razor Crest, faster than he had ever run, and still he hadn’t come soon enough.

Din stepped out of the fresher. The Razor Crest was in hyperspace and the cargo hold was dark. The only light spilling from the open door behind him. The sound of whimpering filled the otherwise silent space around him. Din hurried to the bunk to see you tossing and turning. He scooped the child up and set him in the hammock before crawling in to try and calm you.

He called out your name, bare hands on your shoulders, and when your eyes snapped open, thanks to his visor, he could see clearly the way panic and fear filled them. You screamed and began to swing at him. His helmet. It was his helmet. Without thinking, Din ripped his helmet off and threw it out of the bunk. Din pulled you into his arms again, pressing your face to his shoulder, and whispered reassurances.

“It’s me, Mesh’la. It’s me. I’m sorry. I was wearing the helmet. You’re safe, I promise.”

“Mando?” You breathed. He buried his hand in your hair and pulled you tighter into his chest. As if the two of you weren’t already tangled together in the small confines of his bunk. “I’m sorry I hit you⏤”

“It didn’t hurt. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you alone. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” Din didn’t know which emotion waged in him the most⏤ guilt or anger. They were neck and neck. You took in a deep shaky breath and your hot breath on his neck made him sigh in relief. You were safe in his arms. Din rubbed your back and the question fell out before he could hold it back. “Did he… Mesh’la, did⏤”

“No.” You whispered. “You got here just in time.”

Din could feel tears soaking into his shirt. When the tears stopped, Din coaxed you out of the bunk and onto the cargo hold floor. He grabbed a first aid kit and rushed back so you weren’t left alone for too long. The only light still came from the open door of the fresher and he sat so his back was to it. The dim light illuminated your features and it was like a spotlight to the injuries you sported. He had told you that you could open your eyes. With the way you sat, it’d be too dim for you to see his face, but you said you didn’t want to risk it.

He let his fingers trace the forming bruise surrounding your right eye. It trailed down to brush against the torn skin of your lower lip. Dank farrik. That kriffing fucker had bit you. He could see the outline of teeth. Din’s jaw clenched. He grabbed a bit of bacta and rubbed it gently into the forming bruise. He was going to do the same for your lower lip when you stopped him.

“Did I hurt you?” He blurted.

“No, no. Not that.” You mumbled. “Can I… Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything, mesh’la. Anything.”

“Can you kiss me?” You asked. Din was certain he had misheard you. It was why he sat in silence. He was trying to puzzle out what it was you had actually said. You spoke again, nervous, “You don’t have to. I⏤I…”

“You want me to…kiss you?”

You nodded. Eyes still closed lightly. “I know it’s dumb. It⏤ I just don’t want to feel his lips anymore. I don’t want the taste of him on me.”

“That’s not dumb, mesh’la.”

Din settled one of his hands on the side of your face. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Din began to lean in. He didn’t want to startle you. He wanted to give you every opportunity to pull away if you needed to. Din would be lying to himself, again, if he said he hadn’t imagined the way your lips would feel on him. But not like this. He hated that these were the circumstances, but there wasn’t a single thing Din wouldn’t do for you if you asked.

His nose brushed against yours. Din was close enough that he could feel your lips part. He waited one second more before pressing his lips softly against yours. One of your hands lifted to tangle in his hair and a simple gesture shouldn’t make him feel so hot under his skin. The kiss was slow and tender. Din was terrified to press too hard and bring you pain. The injury to your lower lip still so fresh. And after what you had just suffered through, he wanted you to have all the control. If you needed to use him to rid yourself of that nightmare, to erase the memory that bastard left on your lips, then he would.

Your tongue brushed against his lower lip, tracing it, and he parted his lips for you giving you room to explore him. Maker, the taste of you was so sweet. It took every single ounce of Din’s self control to not deepen the moment even further. The kiss grew almost frantic. A hand in his hair and another at the back of his neck to pull him into you. You pulled back just enough to suck in a sharp breath before your lips was back on his and Din lost his battle for self control.

He wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap. Din was caught off guard when you pushed down to press yourself against his already hard cock, but it was a welcome surprise. He grabbed your hips, hands tightening into the soft skin there, and grinded into you. You moaned into his mouth and Din pulled away briefly so he could press open mouth kisses along your jaw then down your neck until he reached your shoulder. Thoughtlessly, he bit down, wanting to leave evidence of himself on you, and you let out a sharp gasp while grinding into him again. Din ran his tongue against the bite soothingly.

Din’s hands slipped under your shirt and he desperately let his lips find yours once more. His tongue slipped past your lips, but then he tasted it. The sharp, metallic tang of blood. Din pulled back quickly realizing his plan to let you run the show had gone to shit. Both of you were breathless.

“Are you okay, mesh’la??” He pulled one hand away from your hip to touch your face. His thumb brushed against your lower lip and in the dim light he could see the tint of red.

“Thank you.” You breathed. You leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss that missed and only landed on the corner of his lips. Then you leaned your head on his shoulder and just took slow breaths. Din let his knuckles drag up and down your spine. He could feel your entire body going limp as you melted into his hold. You mumbled, “Thank you, Mando.”

“Din.” He replied, but he didn’t know if you had already fallen asleep or not. “Call me Din.”

#the mandalorian #din djarin x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #female reader #reader insert #din djarin smut #dom!din djarin #trying real hard to be sub!din djarin #angst/comfort #fluff

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2kiran · 8 months

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◜ᐢ..ᐢ◝ ᶻz ➜ din didn’t know how it lead to this. you were his bounty and you made him chase after you then, eventually, he got to you. he was annoyed at you for being so stubborn when he caught you. but now? he’s completely at your mercy.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𖤐 pairing ☆ din djarin x dom!m!reader ˖ ࣪ ˖ cw ıllı bonus. helmetless!din. thigh riding. use of sir. blowjob [ giving ]. orgasm delay/denial. praise + degradation. ⪩⭔⪨

At first, a plan was quick to formulate in your mind. Intent on escaping his harsh grip as you were seconds away from boarding the Razor Crest. Unfortunately, you didn’t succeed. The Mandalorian’s reaction time was better than you expected. What was happening now, though, completely makes up for your earlier humiliation.

The feared and brutal bounty hunter, was on your thigh with his face bare, reduced to a whimpering mess.

“Shame that you have to wear that helmet of yours all the time. ‘s a waste for your pretty face.” He seemed utterly helpless, eyes pleading to you to end this enjoyable torture.

You guided him on your thigh, so slowly that he got quickly frustrated. “Faster...ah!” You sped up your movements briefly, only to slow it down again, earning a whine from him. “So impatient. We’ve only begun.” He shook his head, “Sir, I ca–can’t. I need—” You interrupted him, “You can. Be thankful that I haven’t already left after you’ve embarrassed me.” He moaned lowly as he rocked against you just right, “I’m sorry, f-fuck.” His hands rose, gripping your shoulders for dear life.

“It’s too late for that.” You lifted him away from your thigh, making Mando let out a sob. You put him on the crate you were sitting on and you pulled down his boxers, revealing his leaking cock. “I’ve barely done anything to you.” You leaned in without warning, licking up from the shaft to the tip. “Ah! Fuck, fuck,” He instinctively bucked into your warm mouth, a breathy moan escaping him as you hummed. The vibrations were dizzying his brain.

“Mmngh...Feels s’good. You’re doin’ so good...your m–mouth, ngh!” Your own cock strained against your pants at his words, laced with bliss. You surfaced, pulling off him to breathe. He groaned in disappointment, “No! I was s’close.” He slurred, a frown on his lips.

Oh.

He deserves this punishment.

You suddenly take him back in your mouth, bobbing your head up and down. “Oh! ‘M go–gonna—” On cue, your mouth was off of him again. Tongue ghosting over his tip. “What... why’d you stop?” He panted, “Do you think you deserve to cum?” His eyes widened, “I’m... I’m so sorry. Need your mouth on me. Please.” Your thumb rubbed lazy circles into his thigh to calm him down, “You can do better than that, yeah?” Tears brimmed at his waterline.

“Please... I need you. Need you to help me cum, to help me feel good, please. I’m sorry.”

“Stand up.” He followed your order, his shaky legs threatening to give up on him but you quickly pinned him to the wall. Swiftly, you took your pants along with your boxers off. Mando felt drool build up under his tongue at the sight of your cock. “Open your mouth for me, pretty boy.” He opened his mouth and you shove in three of your fingers, taking him by surprise. “What’re you waitin’ for? Suck on them, slut.” He did, surprisingly obedient and filthy.

Once he coated your fingers with his saliva, you put one of them into his hole. Then a second, scissoring him. Then there comes a third. “You’re taking me in so well, huh? Greedy little whore.” His dick twitched, his teeth biting on his bottom lip to muffle his sounds. You lined up your cock and slid it in, filling him up instantly. Din’s tears finally flowed down, staining his cheeks, “Please,” he weakly begged, voice more of a whisper, “Please fuck me, sir.” You couldn’t help it. Your hips drew themselves back, pounding into his entrance. The way he moaned your name seemed like it’s the only word he ever knew. You could consider it poetical, but it was absolutely whorish.

Mando swears a silent oath that he’ll never admit that he wants you to ruin him — to make a mess out of him in front of those who fears him.

But if you’re lucky enough, you could fuck it out of him.

“I’m going to—” He half-warns, “Don’t. Not until I say you can.” He quietly whimpered, choosing to keep silent. Mando knew better than to complain. He could only shut up and be your little toy.

The once silent Razor Crest was filled with his moans and the sounds of his squelching hole. You leaned in and kissed him, sliding your tongue into his mouth. Successfully silencing his moans until you pulled away, “You’re better when you’re quiet.” Your hand met his cock, setting up a quick pace, “Cum for me.” Almost on command, he came onto your shirt. His hole sucked you in so tightly, sending you off the edge.

You pulled out of him after a few moments, some of your cum dribbling down your cock. You kissed his tear-stained cheek sweetly, “Good boy.”

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

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chaotic-iguana · 11 months

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Acting out

(Din x f! reader one-shot)

Summary: You thought it would be fun to tease Din on the comm link while he was hunting for a bounty, expecting it not to take too long. But it takes longer than you thought - and it turns out your distractions were partly why it took so long. Mando’s back now though, and he’s not happy…

(basically just a brat tamer! din x bratty-till-shes-drooling-on-his-cock reader)

Wordcount: 2.7k

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandolorian x fem! reader (no use of y/n)

Warnings: dacryphilia, dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, edging/denial, crying, mean!mando, pussy slapping, spanking, daddy kink (mild), dumbification, crying (during sex bc it feels good), aftercare. MDNI

ao3 // masterlist.

Din stalked back to the ship, dragging the bounty behind him, aggression pouring off him in palpable waves. His seemingly easy bounty had taken triple the time it normally would have, thanks to the fact that every time Din got close enough to catch him, you’d picked up the commlink out of boredom, and moaned, whimpered and whined into it till he was so painfully hard under his beskar that The Mandalorian was forced to jerk off in dimly lit alleys. With the shiny armor on.

14 times in three weeks. Fourteen times in three weeks you disobeyed his direct command to not touch yourself while he was gone, practically taunting him every time he threatened to punish you on his return. He could hear the smirk in your voice as you bit out each one of your witty little replies. ‘S okay, he was gonna wipe the smirk off your face, along with every other thought in your pretty little head.

Since it was going slowly anyways, Din had gone a bit off-route and into a shop he’d rarely been to before. The package was now tucked in his holster belt, and had been spotted by the quarry who had been guffawing the whole way here. Must have been his happiest damn quarry yet, the rate at which his boisterous laughter was reverberating in Din’s skull. He whirled, slamming the Twi’lek face-first into the side of the Crest in warning, relishing in the string of blood and spit beading from his mouth as he spat out a tooth and snarled. Din snarled right back and hauled him inside, throwing him into the carbonite chamber and freezing him before he had a chance to do much else.

Once that was out of the way, Din began hunting for you. He found you in the hull, giggling with the child over something adorable, no doubt, but he was so infuriated by you he didn’t care. He just walked over to the child, gave him a Keldabe kiss, and tucked him away in the crib fondly before fiddling with his vambrace to close the sphere. At the sound of your protests, Din turned to you and cocked his head in your direction, watching you trail off nervously as he offered no explanation. You took a step forward, reaching to put your hand on his chest and ask if he’s injured - but before you could even open your mouth - Din gripped your elbow and whirled you around. His chest connected with your back as he crowded you forward.

A knot of anticipation and nervousness grew in your stomach. You were a brat, but you had never pushed him this far before. Never during a bounty, either. Despite your anxiety, you trusted him to take care of you; the combination of unpredictability and trust making your head dizzy with molten need before he even touched you.

“Stand in the corner and face the wall with your arms up. Don’t lower them unless I give you permission to.” His modulated voice ground the words out in a monotone, but he was close enough for you to be able to hear the whisper of rage in his words, making your hands tremble as you pressed them flat against the cool metal wall. You heard a rustle and telltale clink of metal armor behind you and tensed in expectation before a large, warm hand settled just above your hip, covering the expanse of your back. Another made its way around your torso and both began working in tandem to rip the clothes off your body.

You gasped as you stood shivering and bare in the hull within seconds, testament to the strength he hid in his gentle touches with you. You opened your mouth to beg him to hurry up before his hand came down on your ass and a smack echoed in the ship. Your lips parted, and a cry of surprise worked its way out as Din began slapping both your cheeks in a random, but equally devastating order. He gave you no time to recover, barely letting the sting fade before he repeated the motion and the pain increased tenfold.

Tears began pooling in your eyes as Din kept going, and when your legs began shaking from the ache you couldn’t take it anymore. “S-stop. Please. ‘M gonna be g-good” you could barely get the words out between the sharp, jagged breaths bursting out of you. Din chuckled behind you before leaning in to rub your swollen, reddened skin in a soothing motion.

“Are you now? You forgot to count, though, cyar’ika. Good girls count. Let’s try again from one, no crying.” His tone dripped with condescension as he began again, practically reveling in each gasp and broken sob that spilled from your lips, taking pleasure in each time you stuttered on a number. Your eyes burned but you blinked rapidly to stop any tears from falling. You had submitted completely to your submissive headspace, and Din knew it too.

Finally, as you gasped out “25”, Din stopped to soothe the flaring bruises again. You whimpered and tried to move your hips forward, but realised the wall gave you no space to do so. Turning over your shoulder, you met his visor with pleading, tear-filled eyes.

“S-sorry daddy. Won’t tease you next time, ‘m sorry for being bad. Please no more, it h-hurts,” sobs wracked from you, and you wrapped your arms around his midsection before burying your face in his chest. Gloveless hands began smoothing over your hair as Din began muttering praises and assurances to you from behind his helmet.

“That’s okay, baby, I know it hurts. You teased me all the time, hm? Gotta make it right, no?” he paused as you nodded into his chest. “Then you gotta take your punishment, too, honey. You think just 25 strokes is enough to make up three weeks worth of misbehaving?” you shook your head, sniffling and looking up at him with such a sincere apology in your gaze that Din debated abandoning the punishment then and there.

But the package sat on the floor next to his armor, tempting him, and he gave into the wrecked visions of you his mind was conjuring. Tapping your thighs lightly, he urged you to jump before adjusting your knees on his waist and cradling your head in one hand to reach down and pick up the inconspicuous white bag from the floor. Carrying you to his chair, Din pulled some rope out and began typing your hands to each of the chair’s handles; your feet spread wide in position. He reached his hand into the paper bag and pulled out a bullet-shaped, neon-pink toy as your eyes widened in alarm.

You whined, tugging against your restraints fruitlessly as you looked at Din, who just tilted his helmet at you before kneeling and running a knuckle down your folds - chuckling when the contact makes you hiss and buck your hips. Din’s fingers leave you for a second before his hand comes down again - this time on your bare and swollen cunt - leaving you jolting away and yelping in surprise as you suppress a shudder. The snap of his rough hand on your clit leaves you breathless as stuttered pleas and whines come tumbling our of your throat. Din just brings his open palm down in another slap in response, the wet sound echoing throughout the room.

“We’re done when I say we are. Ask me to stop again, and I’ll add another punishment after this one.” You squirmed, tugging against the ropes binding you to the chair. Din reached for the toy, pressing a button on its side and holding it snug against your clit. Your hips bucked of their own volition as you choked on your needless babbling, the warmth in your belly growing to a crescendo just as Din slid two fingers into you without warning.

Just as you felt the first waves of your orgasms within reach, suddenly everything was gone - his fingers, the toy - pulled away cruelly, leaving you rolling your hips while the restraints chafed your skin. You sobbed out a whine as Din tutted at you in mock sympathy, stepping away from you until your release faded away before returning the toy and thrusting three fingers inside you in a single, swift motion.

He repeated this cycle endlessly - bringing you to the edge only to pull away again, watching your trembling body rut in midair mindlessly; too far gone to even beg properly. Broken syllables poured out of your mouth, interrupted by wanton moans and sobs as tears stained your flushed cheeks. Eyes rolling back and slick running down your thighs, you furled and unfurled your fingers as the need to touch Din overwhelmed you. A steady chant of need to cum, need to cum, please, please, please, i’m sorry began taking over your mind, rocking your hips forwards and backwards in an attempt to chase any friction at all in the haze that had flooded your mind.

Din could see you crumbling, your frustrated tears falling harder as time went on. He pulled the vibrator away from you again, turning it off to set it aside this time, untangling the ropes and opening your binds while rubbing at your sore wrists. You sobbed as you reached your shaking hands out for him, and he gathered you in his arms before turning to sit with you in his lap, rubbing your back as he cooed praises into your hairline.

“You wanna come, honey?” You nod feverishly into his chest. “Okay, baby, okay. Took your punishment so well for me. You deserve a reward, okay? Let me take care of you.” You sniffle and look up at his visor before resting your hands on either sides of his helmet, waiting for your riduur to nod to tug it over his head and smash your lips to his desperately. You needed to feel him so badly, to breathe the air he was breathing, to be one with him again. Hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, your fingers began to claw at him urgently as you deepened the kiss.

Breaking away from your mouth to grasp your chin, Din’s eyes met yours, an unguarded question in them. You want this? Instead of responding verbally, you stood to your feet to help rip off his boxers and undershirt before returning to straddle his thighs. Din leaned back in his seat before grinning at you. “Go on, take what you need. You’ve earned it. Just wanna hear a thank you when you’re done.” he drawled at you before resting his hands on the rests of the chair. You leaned in closer, rolling your hips to grind your cunt against his length; his moan rumbling against your pressed chests as his tip caught at your clit, making you hiss and jump from the sensitivity.

You sunk down onto him, nails digging into his biceps as your toes curled and you both groaned from the stretch as you met in a rough, sloppy kiss. Eyes rolling back, you bounced in his lap whining his name over and over like a prayer as a cocky grin made its way onto his face. Wet, smacking sounds and the repetition of your wrecked “Din, Din, D-Din…” echoed throughout the hull. Din planted his feet, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, thrusting up and nuzzling your neck as his tip battered your cervix with enough force for your vision to black out; back arching as you screamed soundlessly and felt yourself hurtling towards your orgasm.

You tipped your head back as your eyes fluttered shut, unable to do much more than take the pleasure he was giving you. A hand wrapped around your neck and clamped down as Din spoke into your ear with an edge that had you suppressing a shiver. “You look at me when I make you feel good. Let me see those pretty eyes cry on my cock, mesh’la. Cum.” The words of endearment in Mando’a were the final nail in the coffin, and suddenly your whole body was locking up - walls clamping down around Din as you finally got to come - eyes filling with tears as Din’s movements didn’t so much as stutter, drawing the high out to the point of pain and over-sensitivity that had you jolting with each thrust. The steady repetition of thank yous began surging from your lips, eager to please him, keening for his praise.

Scratching your nails along his scalp and curling your fists into his hair, his stubble leaving burn marks down your neck as he began rolling your flesh between his teeth before sucking bruises into it. Gasping, you felt your legs shake slightly as the onslaught continued, barely able to form sentences in your head as the white hot bliss wiped your mind clean. A particularly punishing press of his girth inside you caused a shriek to bubble up from your throat as you pushed weakly at his chest to slow him down, making him laugh at you.

Tilting your head down to level your eyes, he brought his face close enough to make your noses touch. “My poor-” leaning in, he pressed a kiss to your now slack jaw, pulling back to look at you again, “poor, baby.” Twin brushes of his lips over your eyelids, which threatened to shut at the fatigue coursing through you now. “Fucked so dumb she can’t even tell me to stop.” A kiss to your cheek this time, his tongue flicking out to taste your tears. “‘S that what you want, sweetheart? Want me to stop?” you shook your head frantically, too desperate to feel him in you to remember your pain.

“W-want you to cum, daddy.” You whispered it as you buried your face in his neck, body twitching with his relentless motions and reveling in the slight hitch in his breath at your words. Before you knew it, a steady slew of please cum and please trickled into your half-gasped, rambled vocabulary, just as Din’s thrusts sped up slightly. Your eyes did close then, arms wrapping around his neck to wrap yourself in his safety as he reached a hand down to thumb at your clit, making you lurch in his secure hold as he began tracing rapid, tight circles on you while rutting up into you with renewed vigor.

“Give me another, baby. That’s it. That’s it, good girl” his words kept you grounded as you began wailing, trembling like a leaf as he thrusted a few more times before he came with a low, animalistic moan and spilled inside you.

Heaviness and fatigue began weighing down your body and mind in his arms, your breathing evening out as you tucked your face in his shoulder. His arms wound around your midsection, pressing soft kisses and murmurs into your hair as he used one hand to smooth the hair away from your face. You felt him pick you up and walk you somewhere - turn on some water and the glorious feeling of his hands running down your body to scrub his soap into your skin.

You had the distinct memory of his lips ghosting over each blotch of blue or purple, taking the time to kiss it softly before moving on to the next, before he wrapped you up, dressed you in his shirt and panties, and lay you onto the bed. Swooping down to kiss your forehead and smiling at the sleepy grumble you let out before reaching your arms out blindly for him, he turned the lights out and crawled into bed to hold you. Watching you burrow into him in your sleep, the irritation of the hunt seemed to melt away now that he was with you again. For the first time in days, Din let sleep take him; feeling completely safe and at home with you pressed to his chest.

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

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beskarandblasters · 4 months

Note

can i make a request for dom!din keeping you on a leash at his feet pls i beg

You’ve Been a Bad Girl

Dom!Din Djarin x Sub/F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Summary: You’ve been a bad girl and Din decides to punish you by keeping you on a collar and leash.

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), dom/sub, degradation, pet names (good girl, cyar’ika), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, praising, no use of y/n

“Just relax,” Din coos, his modulated voice in your ear sending a shiver down your spine.

You whimper as the cool leather collar encloses around your neck. Din hooks the leash to the clasp, the metal clinking as the two pieces come together. Not only are you donning a collar and a leash, but you’re also on your hands and knees on the cold metal floor. He rises from the floor and towers over you, the stone-cold stare of his visor burning into you.

“Do you know why you’re getting punished?”

You whine before saying, “…Yes.”

“Say it,” he commands.

“I’ve been a bad girl.”

“That’s right. You’ve been a bad girl,” he tuts.

You should’ve never flirted with that rando at the cantina earlier tonight…

“So now what?” you ask, wondering what exactly he’ll make you do like this.

“You wait,” he says simply, walking over to his armory. He pulls the leash tighter, coaxing you to follow him. On all fours you crawl to his side, peering up at him as he just goes about his regular tasks. He picks out an armful of blasters before shutting the door and tugging on your leash again. He just put the leash on but you don’t know how much longer you can take this. Heat reverberates off your skin, teeming with anticipation. But to know that you’re here like this on all fours, following him around while he pays you no mind is doing something for you.

He tugs on the leash again, pulling you from your thoughts. Every time he does that the wetness between your thighs grows, pooling at your entrance and waiting to be played with. He sits on a crate with a wide stance, thick thighs spread apart. You crawl to him and rest on your knees, looking up at him with wide eyes.

“Turn around,” he says simply, letting go of the leash for a split second.

You do as you’re told, turning so your back is to him, waiting for more instructions.

“Back up,” he continues, picking up the leash again and tugging it.

You inch backward so you’re situated in between his thighs. And from that point on he acts like you’re not there, cleaning his blasters and paying you no mind. You rest your head on his knee, wondering what he looks like from this angle, his fingers so meticulously cleaning his blasters. His fingers should be inside you, curling against your walls and making you squirm, taking your nipples in between his fingertips. But not now. Instead, he makes you wait so patiently like a good girl, waiting until he’s ready to use you.

You hear him set another blaster on the crate beside him. You lost count as to how many he’s cleaned at this point. It feels like it’s been hours but really who knows how long it’s been. You’ve been staring at the same thing; the storage area of the Razor Crest, the refresher door directly across from you. You wish he was taking you in there, bending you over the sink, and plowing into you. But instead, you’re waiting at his feet, waiting for his attention like a good, obedient girl.

You feel him move behind you, standing up from the crate and stepping so that he’s in front of you. He towers over you with a hand on his hip, deciding where he’s going to drag you next.

“To the refresher,” he commands as if he read your mind.

“What are you gonna make me do?” you ask with a shaky breath.

“Thought I might clean myself up,” he says, turning and pulling on your leash.

Your wetness is fully running down your thighs now, your desire pent up and almost too much to bear. The door to the refresher opens and he steps inside, dragging you along with him. He starts by taking off his gloves and turning on the water to the refresher. But you’re just now realizing what he meant by “cleaning up”. He’s going to get in the refresher fully nude (but with the helmet on of course) and take a shower. You think about watching him in the steamy refresher, his muscular body lathered with soap all while you’re waiting on your hands and knees. He can drag you around the Razor Crest, going about his day-to-day tasks. But this? This is unacceptable. This is too much.

“Din,” you whine.

“Hm?”

“I can’t take it anymore.”

“Can’t take what?”

“I… I need you already.”

“You’re gonna have to be more specific, cyar’ika,” he sighs.

“I need your cock, Din. I can’t wait any longer,” you whimper.

He crouches down in front of you and grabs your chin, forcing you to look directly into his visor.

“Are you gonna be bad a girl again?”

“No,” say sheepishly.

“I don’t know if I believe you.”

“Please, Din. I swear I’ll be a good girl,” you beg. It’s almost too much. You’re literally on your hands and knees begging for him to fuck you, promising him you’ll be a good girl.

“Fine,” he sighs, rising from the floor, “Get up.”

You get up and he lets go of the leash. He grabs you by your hips and puts you in front of the sink. And now you’re finally getting to look at the two of you in the reflection of the mirror; your nipples perked up, his gloveless hands, the look of desperation on your face. Maker, you need him already.

He bends you over the sink, hands coaxing your thighs apart. He runs two fingers along your entrance, gathering some of the wetness that’s built up there. His other hand pulls his cock out of his flight suit, stroking it a few times while he teases you. You expect his fingers to slip inside you, to keep teasing you further. But he takes his hand and spreads your wetness all over his cock, getting it nice and wet before hooking his hands on your hips. He pushes into you in one clean motion and you choke out a gasp at the sudden length and girth inside you.

“You can take it,” he commands.

You nod, looking at him in the mirror as he begins to plow into you, drawing his hips back and thrusting his cock inside you. He stretches your walls with each pump of his cock, letting out deep and guttural grunts with each movement. Your warmth and wetness envelop his cock, making it grow harder and harder inside you.

“Kriff, cyar’ika,” he says, “You’re doing so good, taking my cock like such a good girl,” he says, slamming into you on the last word.

You can’t respond with a coherent sentence, only letting out a jumbled string of whimpers and moans. Your mind is filled with nothing but thoughts of Din and his large cock reducing you down to a quivering mess.

One hand moves from your hip to grab the leash, holding it in his hand but not pulling it, a subtle way of showing you you’re his. You look at the leather strap in his hand and back up at his visor, your jaw going slack.

“Do you know who you belong to?”

“You, Din,” you whimper.

“Say it.”

“I belong to you, Din!” you cry out, your breath hitching as he slams into you again. You’re on the precipice of orgasm, a large release that’ll have your knees shaking and threatening to give out.

“Can I cum?” you whimper, fearing you won’t be able to hold on any longer.

“Soak my cock, cyar’ika,” he commands, driving his cock into you as deep as it’ll go.

You cum around him, walls convulsing around his cock. The refresher is filled with your moans, his grunts, and the wet, squelching sounds of your pussy. Your knees buckle underneath you, threatening to give out if it weren’t for the sink holding you up. The sensation of you clenching his cock draws his orgasm from him, painting your insides with his cum. He fucks you through both of your highs until eventually, his hips slow to a stop.

He pulls out of you and grabs you by the neck, pulling you upright against him. He wraps his arms around you and your eyes don’t leave the mirror, watching as his large hands roam your body in the steamy refresher.

“Have you learned your lesson?” he purrs by your ear.

“Mhm,” you nod, voice still high pitched from your release.

“Good girl,” he says, letting go of you, “I guess you’ve earned a reward.”

“And what’s that?”

“Get in the refresher with me, cyar’ika.”

@pedrostories

#din djarin x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin x f!reader #dom!din djarin #sub!reader #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin

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pedroshotwifey · 9 months

Text

Lesson

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Tags/Warnings: NO use of Y/N, dom!reader, sub!din djarin, extreme over-stimulation, pregnant reader (not mentioned until the end), reader is a badass and we love her, restraints, aftercare, fluffy fluff, slight bdsm, Din whimpers bc I want to see Din whimper, im sure im forgetting stuff but oh well

Summary: Din chooses to put himself in danger by changing plans during a mission, and you decide it's about time he learns a lesson.

A/N: Hello lovely people! Hope you enjoy some subby Din for a while. I don't really have much to say this time, so just ignore my rambling I suppose. As always, requests are wide open and reposts, comments, and likes are very much appreciated! <3

***

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

You’re absolutely furious. In all the years that you’ve been with Mando, he’s never made a mistake this detrimental. Not only did he almost lose the bounty with his random change of plan, but he also put himself right into the path of danger. This shouldn’t have been a dangerous mission, but somehow, Din found a way to make it life-threatening.

The bounty the two of you were after had been hiding out in an old, abandoned ship on an old, abandoned planet. The main objective was to get the target outside of the ship to capture him in case there was any kind of fuel left in the corroding ship.

You thought you were both stationed in your respective positions, the bait set to lead the bounty out, when you had noticed something was missing. Din. Din was missing. You curse under your breath as you stand up to get a better look at his empty post. Fucking bastard.

You spot a gleam of beskar in your peripheral and turn to follow it. He’s too far away from you for you to yell at him or try to grab him, practically at the opening at the ship already. There's nothing for you to do but wait and see how everything plays out. You groan as you crouch back down behind the rock you had been hiding behind.

Then you hear a deafeningly loud bang.

Your heart drops to your stomach as you shoot back up to your feet.

“MANDO!” You hear yourself scream his name but you don’t remember making an attempt to do so.

You immediately know what had happened as you get closer to the ruined ship. The first thing you see is the absolute wreckage laying around where the ship used to be, some of it still smoldering. The second thing you see is fucking Mando emerging from the smoke, target in hand.

His armor is coated in a black film, likely from being so close to the tank when he fucking shot it and blew it up. You stand in place and let him walk to you, keeping a firm expression the entire time. You can tell the moment he sees the way you’re seething. His movement falters and he lowers his head ever so slightly, continuing toward you with his tail tucked.

You wait until he is a few feet away from you before turning on your heel and starting the way back to the Crest. You know he’ll follow, so you don’t look back or say a word until you reach your shared ship.

When you climb aboard, you wordlessly signal for Mando to put the bounty in carbonite before you climb up to get the ship into the air. Once you’re out of the atmosphere, you climb back down the ladder to find Mando standing in the middle of the hull.

He doesn’t say a word to you, just stands there awaiting your orders. Smart. You point to the bedroom and wait for him to start walking before you trail behind him, still fuming. He stops in front of the bed and watches you walk past him and into the closet. You throw a single word his way as you start digging for the restraints.

“Strip.”

He shudders at your tone but does as he’s told.

***

“Please, Cyar’ika, please!”

The sob that slips from his mouth is delicious even though it’s a bit muffled by his vocoder. You chuckle darkly as you look down at him, The Mandalorian, clad in nothing but his helm and the binders around his wrists and ankles that secure him to the corners of the bunk.

His cock, throbbingly hard and flushed almost purple at the tip, jumps as you speak. The twitch is overstimulating enough to have his whole body try to curl into itself, but it doesn’t budge with the way he’s binded.

“Aww, you poor, sweet boy,” you say with a mock sympathy as you fold your hand to rub your knuckles along the inside of his thigh. “Want to come so bad, don’t you?”

You both know the answer to that question. You’ve been going at this for hours now. You denied him at first, bringing him to the edge and then denying him as soon as you felt him about to bust. You lost count at about nine times—around the same time Din started to cry. After close to an hour of that, you did let him come, just like he wanted. But then you didn’t stop.

The last hour and a half or so have been spent working him up just softly enough to get him hard and leaking again, and then edging him for a while before letting him come. Each time, he grows more sensitive, and each time, it becomes more fun for you.

You know your panties are ruined with your arousal at this point, but you don’t pay too much attention to the fact. This is about Din right now, about teaching your Mandalorian a lesson. You want to rip his helmet from his head so you can see the way his tears streak down his ruddy cheeks, so you can hear his whines for mercy without the modulator warping his voice. But you don’t, not yet at least. You want him to feel humiliated by the way he is being punished and violated while still in his beskar.

He begs you to stop, but you know he doesn’t mean it. You have a specific code for these types of things—if he really wants to, all he has to do is say the word and you’d have him out of the binders and in your gentle embrace within seconds. He hasn’t said the word yet, though. He’s too stubborn to let you win completely, but that's okay, you don’t plan to break him. You just want to make him think that you will.

He tilts his head back and whimpers in response to your taunting question and you take the opportunity to grab his cock. Din’s head comes back up with lightning speed as he shouts at the contact that causes his body to shake once again. Though he orgasms, not much trickles out. A small dribble of cum escapes the tip of his cock and leaks down his softening shaft.

He’s a whining, whimpering mess beneath you, and you can’t get enough.

“Think you’ve learned your lesson, sweet boy?” You pet his flaccid cock, making him sob as you ask him the question. He nods to the best of his ability and you tut down at him. “Use your words for me, baby.”

“Y-yes, I’ve learned my lesson,” he tries to keep his voice unwavering but fails miserably.

“Yes, what, honey?”

“Yes m-ma’am, I’ve l-learned my lesson, I’m s-sorry.”

You hum in consideration for a moment before speaking again. “Good boy. I think you deserve a reward for that, don’t you?”

He nods and you figure you’ll accept it this time.

“Okay, baby, I’ll be right back.”

With that, you sit up from where you had been perched on the side of the bed and stride into the closet. As soon as you go through the threshold, you hear Din let out a shuddering breath. Poor thing must be exhausted. You smile at the thought. He’s not done yet.

You open a drawer and dig around until you find what you’re looking for. Once you have the wand in your grasp, you walk back out into the bedroom. You hold the object behind your back so he can’t see while you sit back in your original position. He’s quiet as he waits for you to speak.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen,” you start, trying to hold your smile back. “I’m going to help you with a little toy, and you’re going to tell me why you’re so sorry.” You wait a moment to watch the way he tilts his head back in defeat. When you hear a small blubber of regret slip from his lips, you continue.

“If you can give me the right answer, I’m going to be generous and let you come, and then we’ll be done. If you can’t… well I guess you’ll just have to wait and see, pretty boy. How does that sound?”

“S-sounds fair, ma’am.”

You nod at him and reach your hands up to his helmet. “Can I take this off, sweetie?” He hesitates but gives you a small nod after a moment. He doesn’t want you to see the mess of tears staining his face.

You release the airlocks and lift up, slowly revealing his pouty lips, his prominent nose, his beautiful, begging eyes, and finally his soft, brown curls. He looks up at you slightly parted lips as you set his helmet to the side.

“There’s my pretty boy,” you say before leaning down to place a gentle kiss to his lips. You don’t wait any longer to move down the bed to where his swollen cock lays against his stomach. You smirk and take the vibrator you picked out into your hand, flipping the switch to turn it onto a low setting. Din flinches at the sound.

“Okay, honey, I want you to keep your eyes on me while you speak, just so I know you’re not lying to me.” A tear slides down his cheek and you can see him gulp down his anxiety. “Yes, ma’am,” he says after a moment.

Bending down, you place a kiss to the tip of his dick, and he tries his best to get away from the contact. When you look up, he’s staring at the ceiling. You lightly slap his cock, making him shout. “Look at me, baby, I’m not gonna tell you again.”

Once his glossy eyes are on you, you bring the vibrator to the tip of his dick. He immediately bucks his hips away and starts to whimper and pant. “Now tell me, what did you do wrong today?”

Mando is too busy gritting his teeth through the blinding overstimulation to answer your question, and you turn the wand up to a higher setting. It’s a fair warning, you think. He screams and thrashes in his restraints.

“I’m sorry, Gods, I’m sorry, p-please!”

“Sorry for what?”

“I’m sorry I went ag-ah-against the plan, Gods, I’m s-sorry,” he tries his best to ignore the way the sobs muddle his speech.

You run the vibrator up and down his shaft before bringing it to the tip and applying pressure.

“Good boy… Are you going to do it again?”

“No, no, please!”

You smile and figure that he probably means it. If he ever pulled a stunt like that again, you’d have him chained to the bed for days. His beautiful brown eyes stay on you the whole time.

“Okay, baby, I believe you.” Even though he’s still squirming beneath you, he looks visibly more relaxed at the knowledge that this is almost over. “I want you to beg for it baby, beg me to let you come.” As humiliating as it is, he doesn’t have to be told twice.

“Please let me come, p-please! I’ve been so good for you! Been s-so good!”

You chuckle at the desperation in his voice as you lean down one more time. Keeping the vibrator on the tip of his cock, you turn it up to the max setting and take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking harshly.

He lets out the loudest shout of the night as he comes. He shakes and sobs underneath you as you prolong it as best you can. You hear him speaking, but it’s so slurred through his cries that you’re not sure what he’s trying to say.

Once he’s done orgasming, you lift up and turn the wand off before casting it to the side. When you look at his face, Din has his bottom lip between his teeth as he tries to keep his tears from falling from his closed eyes. Taking pity on him, you decide to wrap it up quickly.

You look down at his belly, covered in his own cum. You take two fingers, being careful to avoid his poor cock, and swipe up a glob of it. Bringing it up to Din’s lips, you tell him to open up, and he does so, licking his own spend off of your fingers.

“What do you say, baby?”

“T-thank you,” his words are breathless but filled with relief at the same time. You bring your forehead down to touch his before kissing him one more time. He gladly reciprocates, chasing your lips once you sit up again.

You tell him to wait just a second as you work at the restraints. Once free, Mando lets his limbs fall into comfortable positions. You smooth his hair down in a soothing motion as you assure him he did good. You stay there with him for a moment before getting up again to get him a glass of water and a fresh set of sheets. You turn the shower on while you’re at it.

Once he’s in the fresher, you change the sheets and grab some snacks for when he comes back. When he does, you’re waiting in the clean bed with open arms. He smiles warmly at you and crawls in, letting you wrap yourself around him. The two of you lay there like that for a while before you break the silence.

“I hope you know I genuinely want you to be safer, baby, that wasn’t just for show.” You know he knows, you just want to be sure.

“I know… I’m sorry I did what I did today.” You can hear the guilt in his voice and you turn to look into his eyes.

“It’s okay, Din… I just…” you trail off as you try to find the right words. “I don’t think I could live with myself if something ever happened to you.” You can feel tears stinging your eyes at the thought of it.

“And now, with the baby on the way…” you trail off, looking at your distended stomach. “ I don’t want our baby to grow up without a buir, Din.”

“I know, my sweet riduur,” he says before placing a soft kiss to your head. You can see the guilt in his eyes as he looks at you. “I never mean to put myself in the way of danger, I don’t know what I was thinking.” You stay silent, but he knows that you’ve accepted his apology.

“And for the record,” he continues, shyly. “I enjoyed what you did tonight.” You look at him and can’t help but giggle at the smirk on his face. It’s not often you take charge in the bedroom, so you were glad to have the confirmation that he liked it just as much as you.

“I love you, Din,” you say softly as you turn off the light and then snuggle into him. He laughs and hugs you closer.

“I love you too, cyare.”

#pedro pascal #fan fiction #smut #ao3 #pedro pascal smut #the mandalorian #din djarin #sub!din djarin #dom reader #sub character #pregnant reader

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thatredheadwriter · 2 years

Text

Stay Here

din djarin x reader

This started cause I was listening to Lana Del Rey and Hozier and it made me horny, so please enjoy smutty husband/Mand’alor Din (with breeding kink 👀). This one’s around 1.5k words.

This is an NSFW oneshot for female reader with Din Djarin of the Mandalorian. This work contains smut and mature language and should not be read by those under 18. As a writer, I will attempt to make accurate warnings for each of my fics, however, I cannot guarantee that I will identify each and every sensitive topic. My works regularly contain swearing, allusions to/mentions of sex, and canon-level violence.

Content Includes (but is not limited to):

husband!Din

Kinda domestic fluffy moment (it’s very tiny, this is mostly smut)

I really went for the mando’a here, huh (translations at the top)

pleasure dom!Din

kinda service sub!reader

Very eager reader

Breeding kink

unprotected PIV (see above)

talk of pregnancy

Mention of anal

Please read at your own discretion and remember to consume your fanfiction responsibly.

Mando’a Translations:

Su cuy’gar…………………….hello; literally “you’re still alive”

cyar’ika…………………………darling, sweetheart

mesh’la…………………………beautiful

riduur……………………………partner, spouse, husband/wife

cabur……………………………protector

You’re in the kitchen when he comes in, tired and frustrated from a day of meetings and consular briefings. Din was the best kind of ruler, a reluctant one. He didn’t want power, didn’t need it. It was years of doing what was best for his people and following the code without hesitation that had led him to this.

Despite his reluctance, you both appreciated the change in pace. The new capital Sundari was bustling with activity and made a much better place to raise Grogu than the seat of his starfighter. In fact, you’d just gotten him down for the night, a sure feat without Din’s help, even with promises of sweets at breakfast and clumsy lullabies you’d been learning in mando’a.

Cold beskar presses into your back as your husband wraps his arms around you, still-gloved hands slipping under your shirt and sending a shiver down your spine.

“Su cuy’gar,” you chuckle, stirring the pot in front of you and letting Din take his fill of you. It surprised you at first, how affectionate he could be, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. “How was your day?”

“Lousy,” he grunts. One of his hands slides up to cup your breast, making you inhale sharply. “Where’s the kid?”

“Asleep. Took me ages, he wanted you,” you try to sound stern but your words come out as breathy and it takes all your resolve not to whimper as he pinches and twists your nipple. You clear your throat, “Dinner is ready.”

His voice is husky through the vocoder as he spins you to face him, “It’ll keep.”

Without fanfare, Din crouches and hauls you over his shoulder, long legs carrying you off towards your shared bedroom. There was no question that his favorite part about having a home was having a proper bed to fuck you in. He palms your ass as you get nearer, two fingers coming to rub over your clothed slit. Even through the layers, he can feel the dampness and you hear a dark chuckle from under his helmet.

You bounce when he drops you onto the bed, the black of his visor trailing down your form like he’s drinking you in. Hoping he’ll remove a few layers of his own, you strip off your shirt, exposing your top half to the cool air of the bedroom. You can practically see his brain shortcircuiting as he takes in the way your nipples pebble almost instantly, so sensitive and ready for his touch.

He moves for the control panel by the door, shutting it and dimming the lights so you can just barely make out his form in the darkness. You smile softly. Din wasn’t shy, but he was still getting used to allowing you to see him. Before taking your marriage vows, it was pitch black or blindfolds anytime he removed his helmet. Now you were treated to the strong profile of his face as he removed his helmet, setting it aside. You greedily took in the strong line of his jaw, fuzzy with scruff, and the curve of his nose–the same one that always teased your clit so beautifully whenever he drank his fill of you.

His armor glints as he removes it piece by piece, unwrapping himself for you. It’s not lost on you how special this is. As a Mandalorian, this privilege of seeing him bare, vulnerable, was reserved only for you. The ruler of all Mandalore, stripping himself bare for you. It’s too much. Din is barely out of his flight suit before you were on him like a feral loth cat, pushing him back towards the bed.

“Need my riduur, my Mand’alor,” you purr, standing at the foot of the bed and stripping off the rest of your clothes for him.

You crawl onto the bed, trying to decide where to start. Your heart skips a beat as you take in your husband lying in your marriage bed, naked and waiting for you. His skin shudders as your fingers trail his chest reverently, moving down lower and lower towards his leaking cock. A string of curses breaks the silence and you finally grant him mercy, wrapping your hand around his girth and pumping a few times before moving to hover overtop of him.

Din loves it when you ride him. He loves being able to see your body on top of his, feel your presence crushing the darkness and doubt out of his soul. He loves seeing your tits bounce and he lives for the way your mouth falls open in that silent cry as you sink down on top of him.

It takes every ounce of restraint in his body not to just flip you over, push you into the mattress, and pull the pleasure from you. But he waits for you to move, to give yourself over to him and build your pleasure little by little.

“Always so tight for me, cyar’ika,” he groans as you roll your hips against him.

“Just ‘cause you’re so big.”

Din huffs a laugh underneath you, hips bucking up into your softness forcing a depraved mewl from your lips. His hands squeeze your ass, kneading the flesh and pulling your cheeks apart.

“Next time I’ll fuck your ass. Then you can tell me how big I am,” his filthy growl steals your breath away and you clench hard around him at the promise, making him gasp underneath you.

Din is patient, but you’re not. You need this. Not just your pleasure, but his. You need to make him cum, you need to feel him release inside you, to claim you as his.

You’re riding him for all it’s worth, and it’s just not enough. But it’s like he can read your mind. Din shifts beneath you, and your hands plant down onto his chest just as he uses his new leverage to fuck up into you, stealing your breath away with the force of his thrusts.

“I’m going to fill you up, cyar’ika,” he grunts, fingers digging hard into the meat of your hips to hold you in place as he impales you on his cock over and over again. “Watch you grow with my child.”

“Din, please,” you whine, nails digging into the firm muscle of his chest. You don’t even know what you’re asking for at this point, willing to take whatever Din will give you. Your brain is gone and the world has melted away. There’s only Din, your riduur, your cabur, your Mand’alor.

“I know, mesh’la,” he cradles you close as your arms give out, his hips never slowing as he ruts up into you at a furious pace. One hand tangles in your hair and pulls you in for a teeth-clashing, breath-stealing kiss and it’s the sting at the root of your hair that pushes you over that edge.

Din swallows your sounds and you shake with pleasure and he slows his pace for a moment to give you time to ride through your high. When you finally go limp against him, head dropping to his chest, his hips start again as he chases his own release.

Your limbs feel like jelly, but you slip your hands up to thread through his sweaty curls and scratch at his scalp gently. “Fill me, riduur,” you urge. It’s just seconds later that you feel him swell and twitch inside you, hot ropes painting your walls as he fucks through his high.

When he’s finished you both lie there for a moment, breathing in tandem, Din’s length still seated deep inside you. You start to get up, but your husband has other plans. He maneuvers you easily until you’re lying on the mattress, tucked into his side with his arm wrapped around your waist like a beskar vice. The loss of him inside you makes you whimper and he presses a kiss to your temple.

“Stay here, just a bit longer.” There’s a rustling sound behind you and then Din’s pushing a pillow under your ass, elevating your hips. When you look over your shoulder to face him, he looks almost sheepish. “I want it to take, cyar’ika.”

You can’t help but pull him into a giddy kiss, one he readily returns.

“Fine, I’ll stay. But you should go get some dinner before it burns. And check on our son,” you give his shoulder a shove and wave him off before he can protest, knowing he’ll be back in less than five minutes.

As you watch him pull on his underthings, your heart fluttered in appreciation of the man in front of you–an attentive husband, amazing father, strong leader, but most importantly a good man. You couldn’t wait to tell him that your cycle was already late.

#din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x reader smut #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #mando x reader #mando x reader smut #dom!din djarin #dom!din djarin x reader #dom!din djarin x reader smut #dom!din djarin x sub!reader #dom!din djarin x sub!reader smut #sub!reader #pedro boys

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drawingdroid · 9 months

Text

I believe in SMS. Sub Mando Supremacy.

#star wars #mando x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin x y/n #sub!din djarin #bottom!din djarin

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sprout-fics · 2 years

Note

It's always din being the hunter right? his lover trying to escape him but what if it flipped? they somehow got the upper hand and din is a little surprised at how hot and bothered that got him 👀

Anon your brain.

Ok but I imagine this in a situation where Din maybe gets taken on accident. Like he slips up and internally he’s groaning because karking hell you’re never going to let him hear the end of this-

And when you do find him, managing to lure away his captors so you can go collect his sorry ass handcuffed to a nearby pole in the hideout, you are RIGHTFULLY pissed. The fact that if you had done things your way then Din wouldn’t be here and you wouldn’t have had to come get him and now look at him in need of a rescue and-

Something…stirs inside him. Maybe it’s the way your brow is scrunched in concentration as you pick the lock, maybe it’s your position as you straddle his lap to reach the cuffs, the way you’re crowding into his space and making him feel so strangely small…

He kinda likes it.

Ok maybe he really likes it.

It’s the way you take charge over his body, hands sprawled on his legs as you move him to your advantage, face bent over his, chest heaving and the only thing he can do in this state is comply-

When you accidentally nudge the inside of his thigh he can’t stop the strained little noise that leaves him. You stop dead in what you’re doing, hands freezing as your eyes peer down at him and your eyebrows vanish into your hairline.

Oh?

Din tries to hide it but he’s squirming under you, flushed and uncomfortable despite him hurrying you to break the lock. It’s too late though, you’ve noticed and it doesn’t take much to pick up on exactly what is going on.

“You like this, sweetheart?” You ask, and it’s teasing at best but the way Din suddenly chokes back a whine makes a newfound glee tickle inside of you.

You can only imagine the look of him under his helmet- pupils blown wide and face flushed red as his brow scrunches. You’re two steps away from popping open the cuffs but you almost want to leave him like this, all hot and bothered and needing your touch.

Footsteps outside herald the arrival of Din’s captors, so instead you lean over his visor and whisper:

“We aren’t done here, Din’ika.”

#din x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x gn!reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #reader insert #thursday night thots #SUB DIN SUB DIN #listen I can baby-girlify him I know I can #forgive any typos this was written on my phone

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howaboutcastiel · 1 year

Text

Out of This World (Din Djarin x Reader)

Summary: 18+ NSFW BE GONE CHILDREN. the title couldn’t be cringier, I know. You never get to leave Tatooine, which means your only chance to see the Mandalorian is when he visits your shop in Mos Espa. He seems to be finding more frequent reasons to stop by.

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: Smut (Finally!) Oral sex (male receiving), thigh riding, dirty talk, praise kink. Goes kinda from 0 to 100 in terms of explicitness. Din is a beast in the streets and a babygirl in the sheets. He wants so hard to be a dom but… fate bows to no man.

A/N: I haven’t written smut in months and I haven’t written for Din ever. Be gentle wit me

~~~

There was a rumor in Mos Espa that Mando would be back on Tatooine by the week’s end. He stopped by every few weeks, sometimes to repair his ship, sometimes to take jobs in town, and sometimes just to drop off The Kid with Peli so he could run around the galaxy doing morally questionable things. Whatever the reason, he was bound to be reaching Mos Espa any time now. You hoped that he’d stick around for a few days, as you only ever got to see him when he was visiting. You hadn’t been off-world in years—and the price of fuel pretty much guaranteed you wouldn’t be flying anytime soon.

So now, all there was to do was wait for him to show. The mandalorian almost always stopped by the Cantina to order a spotchka to-go and to scout for potential jobs to do on-world. When he did, you would be there waiting to serve him. Spotchka, that is. You were there to serve him spotchka.

He always tipped you extra, and his gaze always lingered on you as you prepared his order.

It was nearing the end of your shift for the night. The Cantina would be closing soon and you would be heading off to the shitty quarters that you could barely afford on a bartender’s salary. The lobby was nearly empty, save for a few drunkards you knew you’d have to kick out at closing. You were just about to lock the register when a familiar face—or more appropriately, familiar mask—entered your sight. The helmet was hard to mistake.

“Heard you were around,” you called to him, not looking up from the bar. He didn’t reply, either. Instead, he walked silently to the stool closest to you. His gait was slower than usual. Sloppy. “The regular?”

The mandalorian’s voice was gruff and tired. “A plate of dustcrepes, too. If you have any.”

“Must’ve been a long day.” Mando never ordered food from the cantina, not even when he came in to grab a meal for the kid. You figured he must be too tired to cook himself something. “They’re not warm, by the way.”

“That’s fine,” he hummed.

“It’ll just be a second.” You started preparing his order. As usual, his helmet tilted with every movement you made, following you around the bar as you poured his drink and fished the last of the day’s food out of the icebox. He didn’t seem to be hiding his ogling at all. Perhaps because it had been a long day and the effort was too much for him.

You sat his bag and drink in front of him, collecting the credits he had placed on the table as payment. After that, you expected him to get up and leave. You knew by now that he didn’t eat or drink in front of people. He only remained in his seat, though, and his gaze continued to seer into you. At least, that’s what it felt like.

“Will that be all for you?” You asked after a beat. You turned to deposit his credits in the register, hoping it would help distract you from the burning feeling.

It only intensified, though, with his gruff reply. His silken, gravelly voice was quieter than normal. He didn’t have to shout over the other customers at this time of night. It wasn’t that his voice didn’t normally make you weak in the knees, but something about his tone had you ready to claw out of your vest, the heat overtaking you from head to toe.

“Do you mind if I sit here for a while?”

You managed to stutter out an answer. “Not at all, but we’re closing soon.”

“I won’t be long,” he assured.

You started making your rounds, cleaning tables and shooing away the stray customers who had nowhere better to be, but that you couldn’t allow to stay here any longer. The streets of Mos Espa were not a pleasant place to be after dark, and loiterers only invited trouble, especially in cantinas. The mandalorian, on the other hand, would probably serve to repel raiders instead of enticing them. His reputation had spread across the planet quickly, and no one at this point was stupid enough to provoke him.

His voice interrupted the rhythmic sound of your cleaning once the other guests had left. He hadn’t moved to touch his food and, at this point, you weren’t entirely sure that he hadn’t fallen asleep at the bar with his head propped in his hand. He spoke clear as day, though, pulling you from your work trance.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been away from the kid,” he started. You were surprised by the evenness of his tone. “I thought I would be worried. I mean, I am worried, but it’s good to be away.”

He paused, looking up at you. “I don’t mean to bore you with my thoughts.”

“No, it’s okay,” you piped, maybe a little too quickly. “I was wondering where the kid was, anyway. Folks confide in me all the time about their day. That’s in the job description for a barkeep.”

He chuckled lightly, breathily. “I guess that would be true. Grogu is with Peli for the night. I told her I would come back once I finished my job, but it’s too late at night now. He’s probably asleep and I don’t want to wake him.”

“Grogu?”

“Oh, yeah.” He straightened up as you returned to the bar and took a seat next to him. “The kid’s name. That’s its own long story.”

“Well, it’s thoughtful of you to not want to wake him.” You poured yourself a glass of spotchka while he watched. “And it’s normal for parents to feel relieved when they have a night off.”

He scoffed. “It’s the first one of those I’ve had in a while. If it’s not taking care of him, it’s something for the guild or for throwing Imps off our trail.”

“Sounds like maybe it’s time for a break, then.” You took a swig of your drink. The mandalorian’s head tilted with yours, following your lips as they wrapped around the glass.

“I’m not sure I have time for a vacation,” he countered. You shook your head.

“But you do have tonight.”

He didn’t say anything after that, not until you’d finished your drink and stood to rinse the glass. The room was quiet enough that you swore you could hear his breathing up to the moment you started the faucet. Mando’s breaths were shallow and shaky, which you’d never imagined of him. You figured he was as much steel on the inside as he was on the outside.

“I’ll get out of your hair,” he breathed. “I know you should have closed by now. Wouldn’t want your folks at home to be worried.”

You shook your head. “No folks at home to be worried.”

“Well, still. It’s late—”

“I don’t mind,” you interjected. A sharp inhale rang through his modulator. You blushed at your impulsive interruption.

The two of you were at a stalemate then. You were sure what you wanted at this point. You wanted under that beskar. Something about the mandalorian… you just couldn’t shake. Maybe it was his voice, as warm and velvety as it was. It probably also had to do with the power he normally exuded. The self-assuredness and authority that, now, seemed to have vanished into the air. Part of it was the mystery of it all. You’d seen him a hundred times, and yet you’d never laid eyes on an inch of his skin. You didn’t know anything about him. Not where he was from, not even what his name was. All you knew was that he was a strong man and a decent father.

And that, behind that helmet and jet-black visor, he looked at you like a prize to be won.

You were right in his grasp, now, but he couldn’t seem to make a move. You weren’t even sure he could manage to breathe. He probably needed a little shove in the right direction.

“You know, you’re right. It is getting pretty late. I wouldn’t mind a mandalorian walking me to my quarters, just to be sure I get home safe.”

He was frozen in place for a moment, then something shifted in him. The mandalorian lifted his head, grabbing his drink and food bag in one hand and hoisting himself off the barstool. He didn’t look in your direction as he made his way to the front door, only pausing when his hand met the handle and he realized you hadn’t moved an inch from your place behind the bar.

“Well? You coming?”

The walk home was uneventful, aside from your pitiful attempts at small talk. Usually you were good at this—your entire job revolved around talking to people about their lives—but you found yourself choking up at even the simplest of questions.

“Where are you and the kid headed after this? You staying on Tatooine for a while?”

“Oh,” he sighed, “I don’t know. Things are complicated right now. It just depends on what’s best for the kid.”

You laughed, mostly to yourself. “Little Grogu.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled with you. “Took some getting used to.”

You rounded the corner closest to your lodging. It occurred to you that Mando had ordered his food nearly an hour ago.

“You must be starving by now,” you observed. He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I’m not really hungry at all,” he explained. The words hung hesitant on his lips. “I just wanted the company.”

There was a tight feeling in your chest. You were unsure of it. “Well, if you wanted a party, there’s a cantina near the town center that stays open late. They have music and escorts—”

“Not that kind of company,” he rasped.

You reached the entrance of your home and the two of you stood in the doorway. Still at a stalemate. You wondered if maybe you were reading something into him that wasn’t really there.

“Thank you for walking me,” you praised. He didn’t budge, only giving a small nod. “Would you like to come in?”

This time, there was no hesitance in his voice, despite the words that came out. “I don’t want to intrude.”

He knew exactly what he was doing.

“You wouldn’t be.”

From the moment the door shut behind you, you were swept off your feet and into Mando’s grasp. His gloved hands held your thighs as your legs wrapped around him. The two of you made it from your front door to your bed in record time.

You resisted the urge to go straight for his helmet. You didn’t know much about his religion, but you knew enough to never make the mistake of trying to take it off of him. Instead, your hand found its way to the nape of his neck, digging into the fabric underneath his beskar. He keened at the touch.

“I’ve been thinking about this for months,” he purred. Mando lowered you gently on the bed until your back hit the mattress. “Coming into your bar, finding excuses to stay. I don’t even like spotchka that much.”

You chuckled, disbelieving of him. “It takes you that long to land a hook-up?”

He stood back, towering above you. The mandalorian reached to the inside of his wrist, unclasping the base of his glove before switching to the other. All of that apprehension from before was nowhere to be found. He more resembled the Mando you were used to. The one that, admittedly, you were a little intimidated by. The one that was the reason you knew your walk home with him was safe.

“I don’t typically engage in those.” He pulled off the glove on his right hand, revealing his warm brown, freckled skin. The image was foreign to you, but the smooth movement of his fingers made you quickly forget that feeling. The other glove followed suit and he was straddling you before you realized.

Your hand darted up to touch his. He flinched when the pad of your index finger made contact with his palm, and he didn’t dare move as the digit traced upward. Slowly, delicately, you laced your fingers into his. When your palm was flush with his, you looked back up at him for assurance. His chest shuddered, and the mandalorian pushed forward until your hand was pinned under his above your head. He bent down so his helmet was inches from your face.

“Such a pretty thing,” he hummed. His body was barely touching you and already you felt the need to grind upward. “I wonder if she’s still as feisty here as she is at her bar.”

“I hope so,” you breathed. You couldn’t conceal the shudder that ran through you as a small hum of amusement rang out from his helmet.

He brought his free hand up to your chin. “So do I. But if she is, that means we’re both in for a long night.”

The mandalorian rolled his hips down into yours, keening and running his fingertips across your lip. His touch was slow and gentle, like he was savoring the feeling of your skin. With your free hand, you moved to cup his backside, and we’re pleased to find that the fabric there left much less to the imagination than the beskar did. He traced your lips for a moment before centering his thumb between them. You let him press forward, parting your lips and sinking his thumb deep into your mouth. The taste of sweat on his skin sent shockwaves down between your legs.

You closed your lips around the digit, licking and sucking with halfhearted effort. A shaky exhale rang in your ears and the ground down again. He moaned, low and choked, and dipped his head forward. The mandalorian withdrew his thumb from your mouth and let go of your hand. You tried not to chase his touch as it left you.

He stood up, apparently catching his breath and smoothing his hands over his chest plate. Propping yourself up on your elbows, you watched as he figured out what the hell to do next. Finally, he huffed a defeated sigh that clued you into the fact that he probably hadn’t done anything like this in a while.

“Tell me what you want, and I’ll give it to you.”

You couldn’t help the way your eyes widened in shock. You were fully expecting this man to take whatever he wanted from you, not to ask what you prefer. You hardly knew where to start. “Well, how much of that armor are you allowed to take off?”

He chuckled. “The beskar? None, technically, but the rest is fair game.”

“Excellent.” You stood up to face him, pushing his chest plate until the back of his knees met the one good chair in your apartment. As he sat, his hands shot to your waist and you slotted yourself into his lap.

His hands were under your shirt before you even settled yourself. By now, an uncomfortable-looking tent was forming in his pants. You were more than grateful that there was no beskar codpiece on mandalorian armor. Fair game, you repeated to yourself. First, though, your fingers hooked underneath the base of his helmet, finding the edge of his scarf and pulling it down to reveal no more than an inch of his neck. Your mouth latched onto the small patch of skin and he nearly jumped from his seat.

“Dank Ferrik,” he whined. “Don’t stop.”

You were amused by the sudden thought that you could paint his whole body purple and red without another soul knowing but the two of you.

It was uncomfortable to sit on his lap when the beskar made a barrier between your heat and his thigh. The armor was cold against you, stealing the warmth from the single layer of fabric between it and your skin. You hissed and squeezed your thighs together and the mandalorian shivered at the pressure. His hands tightened on your waist, ready to guide your movements.

“That’s it,” he purred into your ear. You rested your head against the helm. “Keep going, just like that.”

You pushed your hips downward and back, grinding your core down into the metal. The movement sent a shockwave up between your legs as the cool beskar pressed against your sensitive mound. You shivered, and he shivered again, too. A small, breathy whimper fell through your parted lips and he pulled you back to look at your face.

“Good girl.”

His voice was gruffer in his lower range, broken apart by the hiss of the modulator and his quietness. You rolled your hips again. He let out a shaky breath and stroked his hands along your waist to the curve of your ass. The fabric bunched above his hands. His fingers pinched your skin, and you couldn’t help but lean into the feeling.

You started a slow, steady rhythm, rolling your hips forward into the fabric at the waist of his pants, and rocking back into the beskar plate on his thigh. The pleasure was already building to a dangerous point and the tiny hums and whimpers you made began to increase in frequency.

“You have no idea how sexy you look right now,” he practically whined. You fished desperately around the borders of his armor for a place to snake your hand underneath his shirt. All you wanted was to feel more of him. “If you keep sounding so pretty, you’re gonna make me finish without even touching me.”

The thought made you groan. “I want to touch you.”

“Let me help you then,” he beamed. He brought one hand to yours, guiding you down to the band of his pants. You ran your fingers along the skin just above it, making him shiver. Your palm found his happy trail just as a roll of your hips sent lighting up your spine. In spite of yourself, you dug your nails into his skin. He bucked his hips into nothing and a feral whine escaped him, higher in pitch than his normal voice.

“I w—want,” he stuttered, “I want you to finish like this. I want to w-watch you.”

“Yes, sir,” you taunted and grinned. Somehow you knew he was rolling his eyes under the helmet. “And then we’ll take care of you.”

He started moving his hands against your hips, helping you grind against his thigh as your stamina faltered. It wasn’t long before you were right on the edge and your face found its way back to the crook of his neck. One of his hands darted up to your hair.

His breath was heavy. “That’s it, baby. Doing so good.”

You hissed and groaned as every muscle in your body tensed up, electricity blossoming from your core all the way to your fingertips and back. You slumped forward into him, hand still firmly holding onto his stomach. The other arm was thrown haphazardly around his neck. It took a minute for you to come down.

And the mandalorian was rock hard. He hadn’t been joking before about nearly coming undone while still in his trousers. Now, he was aching for relief.

You hoisted yourself off of him, holding him down by his thighs as you settled on the ground between his legs. His head fell backward the moment he realized just what you were doing and the groan that escaped him was the most desperate noise that you’d heard from him all night. You let your hands trail his thighs for a while, then his stomach. Finally, your hand came to rest on the button of his pants.

“You said fair game, right?” Wouldn’t want to ruin a filthy one-night stand by violating a man’s religion.

“Fair game,” he assured in a choked voice.

You undid the button. Your hand dipped below the band of his underwear and you could feel exactly what you’d gotten yourself into. For someone so starved for human touch, the mandalorian was well endowed for intimacy. He didn’t jerk as you took his shaft into your hand, but you were almost certain that he’d stopped breathing.

“Can’t believe this is what you’ve been hiding under all that beskar,” you purred. “You’ve been holding out on me, Mando.”

He whimpered and laced his fingers in your hair. Slowly, you pulled him out from his boxers. “Din.”

“Hmm?” You spread his leaking arousal over the head of his cock.

“My name is Din.”

Oh. “Oh. I didn’t realize you were allowed to say that.”

“I’m allowed. I just don’t.” But you just did, you thought. You peered up at him, obviously unable to read the look on his face. His breath was loud in the modulator, and quickening by the second.

“Well, Din, I’m gonna try to make you feel good,” you stated. “But I have to warn you that I’m not really great at this.”

“You’ll do fine,” he countered. “More than fine.”

You didn’t know the Mando’a words that left his mouth as you ran your tongue from his base to his tip, but you could guess from the tone that they were some form of expletives. His grip tightened on your hair and his thighs flexed on either side of you. When your lips wrapped around his head, his words became familiar again.

“I’m not going to last very long.” You sunk down as far as you could without gagging and Din’s whimper almost sounded more painful than pleasured. “I’m sorry. I don’t—I don’t do this often.”

“It’s okay,” you pulled off with a wet pop. There was humor in your voice, but it was gentle. “Just relax and enjoy it. You’re not hurting my feelings.”

“You feel so good,” he breathed. You resumed your movements, stroking with your hand the length that you couldn’t fit in your mouth. After a few passes over him and a half-successful attempt to take him to the hilt, you hollowed your cheeks and Din was done for.

You elected to pull off of him, letting him watch as the strings of his load painted your tongue and lips. Your hand stroked him through his climax and, when the pleasure turned to overstimulation, he grabbed it away and laced your fingers together.

After a while, he managed to catch his breath. “I feel like you were the one doing all the work. That doesn’t seem fair.”

“I agree,” you teased. He scoffed as you stood lazily to your feet. You tugged him toward the bed, which was much larger and softer than the cot he was used to. Your thumb brushed against the back of his hand.

“You’ll have to make it up to me next time you’re in town.”

“Oh,” he chuckled. “I think I’ll stick around for a while.”

An author’s note: the reader only thinks it’s a one-night stand because she assumed that Din is the whore that he acts like. Turns out he’s just a hopeless romantic 🥰 which is preferential to her anyway.

#din djarin #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #the mandolarian #mando #mandalorian #star wars #pedrohub #mando x reader #din djarin x reader #smut #sub din djarin #masterlist

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