Din Djarin: Beautiful
Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader
Summary: translating for a Tusken Raider leaves Mando with no other option than to be vulnerable.
Warnings: Din gets shy and flustered, softness in a shared tent (there’s only one…dun dun dun), kind of a feelings confession, a touch of angst, and that’s about it. I really hope I got the Tusken culture correct please let me know if I need to make changes!
A/N: this is inspired by the incredible BOBF episode 2!! If you have not given that a watch, I highly recommend that you do so! It’s so well done. And thank you all so much for over 600 followers. That is absolutely unreal.
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Din Masterlist
(Gif gotten from Pinterest)
“Go on,” Din mumbled sweetly. “You can drink it. It’s safe.”
The gurgling black drink in your hands said otherwise.
The apprehension was clear in your body language, but you tried your best to be respectful towards the Tuskens.
“It’s ok,” he said one more time. His deep, calming voice was ever so present under the modulator, and you pressed the warm liquid to your lips.
The taste hit your mouth much faster than you had expected. It was somehow bitter and savory all at once, and the thick texture completely coated the inside of your mouth.
If your stomach wasn’t so empty, and you didn’t have four armed Tusken Raiders staring at you from around the campfire, you may have made a face. But the drink was all you had, and the last thing you wanted to do was disrespect these people.
They had allowed you and Din to pass over their land, provided you with the drink, and even offered a tent for you to spend the night. The mission the two of you were on was one of the most demanding yet, and the safety of a cool tent for some much needed sleep was so kind it brought tears to your eyes.
You thanked the maker that Din could communicate with them. He had been translating for you all night.
It was yet another endearing and powerful aspect of the once intimidating man that you now admired, and held close to your heart.
You pulled the cup away and swallowed the thick juice, before smiling at the chieftain sitting across from you. The deep black of the night sky mixed with the vibrant reds of the fire made him more intimidating than ever, but also more commanding.
“How do I say ‘thank you’?” you asked Din over the crackling of the fire.
He pressed his palms together, and let them fall towards his lap.
“Like that,” he said. “Slowly.”
You set the cup down next to you and repeated the motion he made with your own hands.
The chieftain became somehow more tense, and bowed his head to you. He then placed his staff down in the sand, and made more motions with his hands, never removing his eyesight from you.
“He is saying ‘you’re welcome,” Din said. Your heart became louder in your ears.
“He said that the drink they offered is hard to come by, and he appreciates your respect towards their hospitality.”
You nodded to the chief, nice and slow, and he nodded back. A breath of relief released from your nose.
The chief Tusken then turned his body towards Din, and the two of them started another conversation.
You picked the cup back up and took a few more sips, getting used to the odd taste and enjoying the feeling of a full belly. You watched Din expertly converse with the chief, and you were completely in awe of him.
He made it look so natural. So easy. You wondered if he learned the language overtime, or in his Mandalorian training when he was a boy. Had he always been so open to the Tuskens, or had he mistaken them for an enemy and learned of their ruthless skills the hard way.
Either way, seeing him in such a domestic and natural state was rare for you, and all you wanted to do was watch him. Only him.
You were slowly realizing that the longer you worked with the Mandalorian, the easier it was to just get lost in his elegance.
His gleaming beskar was the perfect source to reflect light, and it made the burning glow of the fire paint a range of colors on his armor. It stretched over his entire body, giving it an orange-ish glow. Every inch of him was breathtaking, especially his intricately carved helmet.
You knew you weren’t supposed to think about it, you knew you weren’t supposed to imagine it, and you definitely knew you weren’t supposed to daydream about it…
…but you wondered just how breathtaking he was underneath it all.
You continued to sit and watch, just thinking and observing your Mandalorian, before the chieftain looked at you once more. You saw him in your peripheral vision, and so you turned your head to look back at him.
You smiled at him as delicately as you could, not showing any teeth, and the chief straightened up again. His shoulders puffed, as well as his chest, and he continued to look at you for some time. You could feel his eyes raking over your body, and you tried your best to stay as neutral as possible.
These people were kind and respectful, especially the chief, and the gratitude in your eyes was the only gift you could give them in return. You wished you could give them more.
Finally, the chief made eye contact with Din again, and signed something longer than before.
The Mandalorian looked rather taken aback once the Tusken finished his statement, and your eyebrows wrinkled in curiosity at his reaction.
“Mando,” you said, not wanting to reveal his true name, “everything ok?”
Din continued to look at the chief, holding his hands out in front of him awkwardly as if he was lost for words, before he turned his visor to face you.
“He said…he said that you’re beautiful.”
Your mouth instantly went dry.
Beautiful.
You didn’t know if you’d ever been called that before.
“Oh…” you said, trying to look anywhere but the two men.
“He said that your smile is like the twin-sunset, and… and your kindness is a treasure,” Din continued. “They currently have very few women, but the men of this tribe would make sure that a woman like you would find this place very comfortable. They would make it your home.”
You were dumbfounded. Completely speechless.
A home. They were offering you a home.
You had grown up traveling from place to place, never once having the opportunity to grow roots or feel as if you belonged. You spent your teenage years embracing that freedom and independence, and they were what got you into bounty hunting in the first place.
You had convinced yourself that a home would never exist for you. Your life was the chase and the reward, and you were willing to bet it would stay like that until your final heartbeat.
But when you looked back up at Din, watching the smoke dance around his broad frame and the deep breaths he took underneath all that armor, you knew the truth.
Your home was never meant to be a place. It was always meant to be a person.
“Tell him thank you,” you replied to Din. “But I’ve already found a home.”
The invisible mask that Din protected himself with cracked for only a few seconds, and he let his emotions overtake him. He released a shaky breath of relief. You saw his shoulders shake and his hands ball into fists, before he straightened up and put the mask back on.
This reaction to your words was so quick that you barely caught it, but you were so glad you did.
You knew he understood. He always found a way to understand.
You swallowed thickly and let your eyes flutter shut, trying your best to recollect yourself.
Din communicated your statement to the chief, and you swore you saw his shoulders sink in defeat. The chief made his final response, and stood up with his staff in hand. The men around him stood up as well, and they slowly made their way towards their own tents.
“Come on,” Din said, pulling his body weight up. “We both need sleep.”
He reached out his arm to help you up, and you gladly took it.
He led you to a small beige tent near the edge of the camp, and he held the material open so you could crawl in first.
“I apologize if it’s a bit cramped,” he said sweetly. “This was all they had.”
“It’s perfect Din,” you said. You missed the familiar feeling of his name on your tongue. “Thank you.”
He nodded, and you took a seat on the warm, soft ground. He remained standing.
“These people are…very kind,” Din said.
“Yes. Very,” you responded.
“I’m surprised you didn’t want to stay with the chief. An offer like that is quite rare.”
Want to stay?
“What?” you asked him softly. “Why would I want to stay?”
“The life we have, it’s never been safe. These people can protect you. Probably better than I can—"
“Din—"
“—they don’t have to worry about credits, or jobs or, even where their next meal will come from. They know the sand. They provide for themselves. You could live a quiet life, not one in constant danger.”
He paused, letting his eyes fall over your form.
“It seems…it seems like it’s obvious. You should stay.”
You looked at him, a light mist beginning to form in your eyes, and you licked your lips. Preparing yourself for what you were about to say.
“Din,” you began. “Why would I go anywhere that wasn’t with you?”
You stared into his ever-piercing visor as you spoke, watching his shallow breaths and emotionless stance.
This silent, brooding Din had once scared you more than anything.
It felt like his eyes were peeling back your skin, seeing every secret and mistake you desperately tried to hide. You could never read him, no matter how hard you tried. And it scared you shitless.
But now, you knew what you were staring at. You were staring at a man who had given you his name, his identity, his child. You knew he trusted you, and you trusted him.
So if he wanted to rake his eyes over every nook and cranny of you, then fine. There wasn’t much he didn’t know already.
“I meant what I said by the fire,” you continued. “I don’t want to leave. I never want to leave.”
What you couldn’t see was Din’s clenched jaw, and his stomach was dropping to his feet. He couldn’t physically take his eyes off of you. Even if he tried.
“This,” you said, gesturing to the fabric around you, “is not what a home is. Home is a feeling.”
Here goes nothing.
“And you give me that feeling.”
The words were spoken, suspended in the air, and there was no turning back.
You exhaled, relieved to finally get that off your chest, before standing up as confidently as you could.
“My place is by your side. Do you understand?”
Din’s helmet bobbed up and down, and an even longer, harsher wave of relief washed over you.
“Good,” you said, and turned around to prepare your bed for the night.
The blankets the Tuskens had provided you were soft and thick. They would surely keep you warm as you slept, and your need for sleep was only getting worse.
You laid down the first blanket, and then covered yourself with the other. You laid down on your side, facing the still frozen Mandalorian.
“We both need sleep,” you said, repeating Din’s earlier statement, and closed your eyes.
Your body sunk into the sand, but your mind was more awake than ever.
You wanted him to say something. Anything. You had stripped yourself bare for him, being more honest than you ever had before, and he just stood there. You understood his difficulty with words, but at least a “thank you” would have been nice.
It was only a few moments of silence before you heard him walk towards his own blankets, and he began to take off his armor.
You heard the familiar clicks and snaps of each piece being taken off, and he set them delicately on the ground, trying to be as quiet as possible. You had watched him do this many times before, and so the routine had become cemented in your brain. The boots were first, then the chest, then the arms, then the legs.
You had never heard the helmet drop, though. Never.
And so when you heard a foreign puff of air escape, and one last piece of metal was dropped on to the sand, your sleep deprived brain started putting the pieces together.
The helmet was off. In your presence. For the first time ever.
You tried your best to keep up your act of fake sleeping. You felt sweat start to drip down your back and your heart begin to race. Your lungs clamored and begged for more air.
But you held on.
You then felt Din’s body move back towards you, and he laid his own blanket next to yours. Small grunts escaped his mouth as he settled in to the makeshift bed, and tiny pieces of sand flew in the air when he pulled his second blanket over his torso.
He laid his head down, and you had to force yourself to keep your eyes closed. The heat from his breath was so close to your lips, and the scent of his skin made your brain feel loopy.
He had to have thought you were asleep. If he knew you were awake, he would never have done what he did next.
He lifted his right arm and stroked his knuckles over your cheek. His touch was so light against your burning skin that you barely felt any pressure, but your stomach coiled and your cheekbones tingled.
“I lied to you today,” he whispered. “These people can never protect you the way I can.”
Your heartbeat was so loud you could barely hear. Shots of electricity slithered down your thighs.
“And I promise you, Y/N, I will do it for the rest of my life. If you’ll have me.”
He traced your cheek with his knuckles once more, and the breaths from his mouth were getting closer and closer to your lips. The puffs of air from your own nose were beginning to mix with his.
“You really are beautiful,” he said, and pulled his hand away. He tucked it underneath his blanket, and you resisted the urge to beg him to touch you again. It took every ounce of strength from your body.
Silence filled the tent for some time, and you finally started to relax. You couldn’t hold back sleep any longer.
As the last drops of consciousness were beginning to leave you, Din’s body moved closer to yours, and a scratch of facial hair rubbed against your forehead.
“You’re my home too,” he breathed.
The vulnerability and truth behind his words were the final kick to send your brain off to sleep, and the smell and feel of him stayed wrapped around you as you dreamt.
You had finally made it home.
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after, love || like the waves that greet the moon
Prompt: ebb & flow
Pairing: Toyomitsu Taishiro/ Fat Gum x Reader
Warnings: hurt & comfort, discussion about body image and self-esteem
—
You pinched at that part of your body you didn’t like, squishing it in and pulling at the skin again. A sigh escaped your lips as you looked at the mirror in your underwear.
It’s not like you believed that you were ugly. You just felt ugly. Today of all days too. It was frustrating because today wasn’t anything special. There was no reason to feel ugly. But that’s how it was with feelings. They come and they go.
The crunch of an apple snapped you from your thoughts and your eyes looked further back in your reflection. There sat Tai in all his glory, muscled body getting obscured by fat as his face got rounder.
He grinned at you as he sat with his basket of fruit, pointing towards the forgotten black dress that laid on the ground. “I like that one.”
You sighed and looked at the black one, then the colored one, the one with the floral print. He might have liked that one but you didn’t like any of them. It was hopeless.
“What’s wrong, cutie pie?” He asked, each step more thundering than the last as his body grew in size.
“You wouldn’t get it,” you said, shyly looking at the floor. It was stupid of you to get so upset over nothing. You just needed to throw something on before the two of you were late to your reservation.
He scoffed, “Try me.”
You told him your dilemma, ending it with an “I don’t know. I’m just being dumb.”
He sat down with a force that shook the makeup on the counter and you were grateful for the extra security of shock absorbent floorboards. The BMI hero dragged you into his lap, holding you close enough to feel the comfort of his softness.
“Ya know what they used to call me in school? Moon-faced.”
It wasn’t a lie. With his Quirk activated, Tai’s face was round.
“I used to be so embarrassed. I didn’t want to be soft. I didn’t want to be round. I wanted to be rough with edges. I hated being called that.”
You nodded your head, squeezing his hand with both of yours.
“But then one day, I asked myself, ‘What’s so wrong with the moon?’ It’s a celestial force that exudes strength as it controls the ocean. Its beauty has been the muse of artists for centuries. There’s nothing shameful about being like the moon.”
He leaned down to kiss you, softly, gently, before pulling you back into his stare, his eyes like the soft glow of the stars.
“And like the waves, your opinion of yourself might change from better to worse and back again. But like the moon, I’ll pull you from your thoughts and remind you of just how beautiful you are to me.”
Pressing your body to his, you kissed every inch of Taishiro that you could before smiling up at him, not caring about what you wore for dinner. It didn’t matter as long as you were able to spend time with the man you loved.
“Didn’t know you could be such an inspiration,” you teased him.
His voice was teasingly haughty. “Haven’t you heard? I’m a hero. A very hungry one at that.”
“So didja decide on what to wear? Now I really do like what you’re wearing right now,” he motioned towards your scantily clad body. “But I don’t think it’ll meet the dress code for this place.”
You laughed as you got up, offering your love a hand. “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?”
He took it, kissing your knuckles before pulling you into his arms. “I can die happy.”
—
A/N: Read a little blurb about “The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” being an indirect way to say “I love you” in Japanese. “I can die happy” would be the response back. Thought it was cute and fitting.
—
Rest’s Main Masterlist // after, love Masterlist // Fat Gum’s Masterlist
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