#⟢ || doing right in the name of protection / cobb vanth.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

In a Perfect World, You Love Me [i]

din djarin x female!reader

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

word count: 6,961

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

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

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

-r.m. drake

.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Who’d want a bitch over beskar?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Din didn’t trust the world around him.

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

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

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

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

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

“We’re safe, mesh’la.” Mando replied.

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

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

“All of that happened?”

“We’re in hyperspace now.”

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

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

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

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

“Good.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The world around you was right again.

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

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

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

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

“I’m sorry, Mesh’la.” He sighed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What are you talking about?” Din asked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Alright, where were we?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Din was not going to make it to the bedroom.

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

“Where are you going?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Luckily, Mando did not have that same problem.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“This is wrong.” You shook your head.

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

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

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

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

You wished it was Mando calling for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What is it?”

“Depends. What’d you see?”

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

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

“What do you mean?”

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

“Unless?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You were. You were his perfect world.

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

[burnwater13]

Din Djarin and Cobb Vanth riding speeder bikes through the canyons of Tatooine to locate the Krayt dragon terrorizing Mos Pelgo. Image from The Mandalorian, Season 2, Episode 1, The Marshal.

Grogu remembered that trip through the desert with the Mandalorian and the Marshal. He remembered getting blasted by sunshine, bombarded with the wind the bikes generated and pelted with sand, rocks and small bugs that got caught up in that wind. The only good part was that for the most part the bugs were tasty. 

As he trotted around their cabin on Nevarro, looking for his drawing supplies, he thought about that ride and what would have made it better. Air conditioning. Yup. That’s right. Although his coverall was pretty good at keeping him comfortable, when you have two stars shining on you all the time it’s pretty easy to get hot. That included the air, the sand, and the surfaces of almost anything. Like speeder bikes.

Nevarro was the same way. Not hot because of two suns. It only had the one, but hot because it had volcanos and lava flows and stuff like that. It was another place that could use air conditioning. Not the whole planet. There were a few places that were nice as they were, but other places, like the High Magistrate’s office were pretty miserable if the wind wasn’t blowing at all. 

Grogu wondered why they put up with it. The equipment must exist somewhere. He’d been on the Imp ships more that once and even the old Razor Crest had some sort of heat pump gizmo that kept the place warm and cold as necessary. Well, it had most of the time. Maldo Kreis was an exception. Uff, frozen spiders. Yuck.

Of course that would help make the High Magistrate’s office more comfortable, but what about their cabin or a speeder bike? Hmmm. How would you even do that? A speeder bike was very much an ‘experience the great outdoors’ kind of vehicle. Hot, cold, wind, rain, fog, you name the weather condition and a speeder bike had the same answer for them all: whatever. 

Grogu didn’t like that answer. Sure, sometimes he could drop down into whatever pouch, bag, carrier that the Mandalorian was using that day and avoid a good deal of the weather, but Din Djarin couldn’t. Or rather his armor couldn’t. Grogu didn’t have armor or at least not a full set. And Luke never gave him a Jedi cloak to wear. That made sense because Jedi lost them all the time. Grogu might have stayed on Ossus if Luke had offered him one of those instead of Master Yoda’s old lightsaber. A cloak provided protection against many perils. A lightsaber only against one.

But back to what he was thinking about; speeder bikes. Was there anyway to modify a speeder bike so it could be air conditioned? Maybe his dad would know. Grogu hated to admit most days, but Din Djarin had actually seen a lot of stuff and might know the answer.

“Air conditioning? I don’t think I understand what you’re talkin’ about.”

Grogu tried to explain in more detail but all that happened was the person he loved the most in the galaxy laughed out loud and found it hard to stop laughing. 

“Buddy, the whole point of a speeder bike is to feel the wind in your face. Or so I’m told. If you enclosed it so you could control the temperature it wouldn’t be a speeder bike. It would be a standard, enclosed, land speeder. You can’t fit one of those in the hold of the Razor Crest.”

Grogu was pretty sure if he had stomped off, annoyed with his dad’s laughter, Din Djarin would have taken his helmet off and wiped tears out of his eyes. Instead, Grogu reminded the tall bounty hunter that they no longer possessed a Razor Crest and you couldn’t put anything other than his hover pram in the N1. 

“I am well aware of that and your opinion on its lack of privy. But your pram is a good example of what enclosing a speeder bike might be like. Is that really what you want?”

Hmmm. That was a good question. Did he want an open air speeder bike, made to his size of course, or modifications to his pram? That was a tough one. He knew that a speeder bike, even scaled down for his use, would look really cool. It would also maneuver around obstacles effectively, use almost no power, and make him the envy of the Anzellans.  That was a pretty powerful incentive to just deal with the current design flaws of that vehicle type. 

Or, he could do something with his pram. First and foremost he’d stop calling it a pram. Prams were for babies. He wasn’t a baby. Maybe he’d call it a hover bubble. He liked how that sounded. Or a flying pod? A pod racer? Nope. Not a pod racer. He didn’t like the engine layout for those things. The couplings were too exposed and he needed something more compact.  Flight pod? Sure. His dad had a flight pack. Grogu could call it a flight pod. That sounded fast without the baggage.

Then, he would upgrade the seat to provide better support and visibility as well as some much needed adjustability. It needed a cup holder. Racing tripes. Maybe a weapons system? Definitely a sleep mode. But what else?

“Modifications to the pram? Maybe we should put a tinted canopy in? Then you can see where you’re going without getting the sun directly in your eyes? If we did that I could probably fit a little AC unit in it and keep you as cool or warm as you like.”

Yippee!

Sure his dad called it a ‘pram’ instead of a ‘flight pod’ but Grogu didn’t care about the name as much as he cared that he could operate with a closed canopy and still see where he was going. And, unlike a speeder bike, it would protect him from the sand. That stuff just got everywhere! He was surprised that his dad and the Marshal didn’t complain about that more. Some of the Jedi he knew never shut up about that. Uff.

[maskedbeskar]

tag dump THE REMIX TM !

[sirowsky]

Don't Die

Here comes the last of the prompts I've gotten for this celebration, and we're wrapping up with a heartbreaker! I got this ask by an anonymous sender, where the prompt was "You can't die. Please don't die." with Din x Reader, so naturally, my head went to angsty-land...

Now, as this concludes the 400 Challenge, I just wanna say thank you to everyone that sent me prompts and helped me to mark this occasion! I love all of you <3 And I'll always accept asks, requests and prompts, if I feel comfortable with the subject, so please don't hesitate to ask.

Rating: Mature Warnings: ANGST, Din Djarin x female reader, mostly Din's pov, AU. Grogu, Cobb Vanth, Peli Motto and Greef Karga appears. Word Count: 1500 Author’s Masterlist

   “He’s pacing. He never does that…” Cobb says, as he observes the Mandalorian from an alley a few doors down the street.

   “Well then, I guess he’s real anxious bout that filly. What about it?” Peli huffs where she stands next to him, arms cradling the child that anxiously coos while he watches his papa.

   “Just creeps me out,” Cobb explains, still not taking his eyes off the man.

   “That’s it? Go talk to him, then. Ask him what’s going on,” she counters, throwing an arm in Mando’s general direction, but The Marshal just scoffs, raising a pair of incredulous brows at her.

   “I’d rather wrestle a mudhorn,” he shoots back, before turning to leave.

   “Scaredy-cat!” she shouts after him, but without much conviction. Because she sure as shit ain’t gonna over there either.

--------------------------------

   He waits. That’s all he can do. You’re in the hands of healers, your only chance of surviving, and yet he feels like there’s something more he needs to do for you. Not that he has a clue what that might be.

   You weren’t supposed to be there.    Why where you there?!

   He’s asked the question a million times by now, even though his own mind doesn’t know the answer and remains befuddled.    He’d left you on Nevarro weeks ago, under the pretence that Greef needed help with the rebuild, but really just because Din needed to know that you were somewhere safe, and then somehow, you’d found him in the middle of a fucking firefight.

   Something had exploded, you’d both been thrown like ragdolls, and where his beskar had protected him, you’d been broken.    He’d ignored the rest of the fight, crawling to you when screaming your name yielded no response, only to find your body in terrifyingly unnatural angles.

   And now here he is, pacing outside the healer’s hut in Mos Eisley, told that the damage might be too bad, but that they’d try.    He’d told them to succeed. Not asked. Demanded.    As if life could be saved by willpower alone.

   “Mando…” a familiar voice breaks into his consciousness, and he turns to seek out its owner.

   Greef’s hands come up in a gesture of peace as Din immediately stalks towards him, grabbing his clothes over the chest and harshly tugging him right up to his own visor, with the sudden anger that floods his blood.

   “I left her with you! You were supposed to keep her safe!!” he screams as much as growls through the modulator, but Karga looks only sad.

   “I’m sorry, my friend. She asked if I knew where you were… If I’d suspected, even for a moment, that she’d steal a ship to come find you…” he tries to explain, shaking his head at his own failure, “I’m so sorry.”

   Din’s anger still boils, but the man in front of him isn’t the real cause for it, and he lets go of him, stepping away again, back to the spot by the door that he’s all but carved a trail into with his incessant pacing.

   He wants to tell Greef how it’s all his own fault, for not telling you the truth, for not confessing the depth of his affection, the real reason for leaving you there.    And he wants to tell him how he’s dying inside at the thought that your life might be ending because of his own cowardice, but he can’t.

   He can’t say any of it out loud. Because this is for your ears, not Karga’s. You’re the one he needs to explain himself to. Make amends with.    Nothing else matters now.

   The heat within him instantly gives way to ice when the door suddenly opens, and the healer steps back to let Din’s broad frame pass.    But now his legs feel heavy and sluggish, his chest constricted, and his hands start to tremble while a cold sweat is absorbed into the fabric around his neck.

   Once inside, he’s shown into a room where a figure lies on a medical bed, with a sheet pulled up to the shoulders. All limbs seem to be in their correct places, and the large open gashes to the skin have vanished, undoubtedly a courtesy of the bafta-tank.

   Standing in the doorway, he’s too far away to see if you’re alive, and his knees seem to fill with nails, torturing him at every step, but he has to know.    As he gets closer, he can see the slow breaths and he wants to be happy, to believe that everything will be okay, but the healer looks too apprehensive to set his mind at ease.

   “I wish I could tell you that she’s all fixed, but the fact is… I don’t know,” the healer says, and his voice trembles, “Her body is fine, the broken bones and sores are easily put back together, but her mind… She was technically dead for quite a while before you got her here and I just don’t know if her brain can survive that.”

   He listens, tries not to hear, not to accept. And in the end, what lingers in his mind isn’t anything the healer said at all.    It’s everything Din himself hasn’t said.

   A small sideways swipe of his head is enough to communicate that he wants the room, and the healer and his assistant both leave without another word.    Willing his knees to move again, he comes to the side of your bed, digging your arm out from under the sheet as soon as he’s close enough.

   He’s barely ever touched you before, but now he has to, to feel the reassuring warmth and softness of living tissue.    But now that he has the chance to say all those things that he thought about outside, that he swore to himself that he would tell you if he ever got to see you alive again, all die on his tongue.

   Now that you’re there, only one thing matters anymore.

   “You can’t die. Please don’t die,” he whispers, desperation, pain and fear leaking into the words, making his voice crackling and brittle.

   It’s as much as he can get out, so he prays that it’s enough. Begs the stars to let him have another chance to tell you everything, swearing that he won’t let any cowardice stand in the way, if he can just have one more conversation with you.

-----------------------------

   “Nononono! Come here, you little womp-rat,” Peli admonishes, as she rushes to snatch the child up before he sneaks out of the hangar. It’s only his twentieth-something attempt.    “I know you’re worried, kid, but you heard your dad, you gotta stay here til he comes and gets ya. Ain’t nothing I can do about it.”

   The kid coos unhappily, pointing at the door, and those big sad eyes finally become too much for the tough-skinned but soft-hearted engineer.

   “Oh, alright! We’ll go and see that he’s still there, but that’s it! We’re not gonna bother him, you understand?” she demands, and the child just coos again, tilting his head a tiny bit to the side.

   She growls to herself, and then sets off in the direction of the healer’s hut, but upon arriving there, finds the alley where she and Cobb loitered earlier that morning, occupied by both him and Greef Karga.

   “Anything happen?” she asks as simply as if spying on one of their friends is a common pastime for them, as she joins in, while the kid twists in her arms, trying to see better.

   “He went inside hours ago, that’s all we know.” Greef answers with a shrug, and she sighs.

   “Sorry, kid. Looks like we’re still at a stalemate. Unless one of you boys wanna mosey on over there and find out what the blazes is going on?” she challenges, and both men turn their heads to throw indignant looks at her.

   “You mosey on over there,” Cobb counters, and she quickly points at the kid.

   “Hey, I’m the baby-sitter! I gotta do everythin’ round here?” she retorts, and then twitches as the child suddenly shivers and whines.

   Vanth doesn’t notice that and is about to retort when he’s cut off by the door to the healer’s hut opening, and they all freeze, staring down the street.    Peli feels the child shiver again, before his ears begin to droop, just as Mando slowly appears through the door, his right hand holding the wall to keep him steady, but it only works for a few steps.

   He falls to his knees. Slumps. His normally so intimidating frame seeming to shrink before their eyes.

   “Oh, no…” Peli whispers, feeling tears sting her eyes.

   They all stand there, unmoving, unsure of how to possibly help anything, but feeling increasingly heartbroken at the scene before them. Because Mando deserves good things. So, so much.

   Suddenly, the kid’s ears prick, and begin to rise again, as if he’s heard something interesting or fun. But what could that possibly be?

   Then Mando lifts his head, looks up at the stars and says:

“Thank you.”

–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–=¤=–

Thank you for reading, and if you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would greatly appreciate it <3

@deadhumourist @idreamofboobear @tanzthompson @winter-fox-queen @tiffanyleen @shsoba05 @toomanystoriessolittletime @nolanell @myfavpedrothings @harriedandharassed @bruxasolta @tintinn16 @littlemisspascal @sj-draws00 @gallowsjoker @spishsstuff @little-mrs-morales @bilibiche @thelion-sroar

[oh-three]

Masterlist

You can find me on AO3, here- and fanfiction.net here. 

I crosspost all of my stories to both (but only my favorites are featured on this masterlist), have been since July 14, 2021 (most of my older ones on FFN are not on my AO3). Feel free to kudos, favorite, follow, etc- but know that comments or reviews are always welcome! They make my day every time.

My inbox is always open if you want to talk! (Especially if it’s about Star Wars).

Tumblr taglist now available!

Blorbo List

When Our Boots Wear Thin & Our Hearts Grow Heavy

Cobb Vanth

Part 1 - When The Suns Grow Low, The Fight Only Gets Tougher

Just before joining in on the battle for Mos Espa, the people of Freetown dropped their wounded, dying marshal off at Fett’s Palace. Fett quickly realizes that Cobb Vanth may be beyond the help of even a bacta tank. He needs outside aid- they all do. Centered around the S1E7 end credit scene. [5/5 chapters]

Part 2 - When Twilight Checks In, The Collars Pull Tight

Bray Ealdel, a close friend from Cobb Vanth’s past, returns to Tatooine under mysterious circumstances. For Cobb, it’s a chance to catch up on lost time. But Bray, if he plays his cards right, gets to keep his life for a little longer. [8/8 chapters]

Part 3 - When The Heart Outruns The Body, The Suns Clear The Fog

Pressured by his aging body and his tired mind, Cobb Vanth ponders stepping down from his role as the Marshal of Freetown. Other, more personal, matters take him offworld for the first time in his extensive life. The fire in his eyes hasn’t quite been stomped out yet. [14/14 chapters]

Part 3.5 - When All Is Right, The Suns Are High [INTERLUDE]

After a lifetime of fighting for freedom, Cobb Vanth has finally won his once and for all. With his health back on the incline, all that’s left is to settle down and embrace the fact that he can finally live his life the way that he’s allowed the rest of his town to. One-shot; series interlude. 18+. [1/1 chapters]

Part 4 - When The Suns Begin To Set, Life Finally Begins

Cobb Vanth has retired from his position as Marshal of Mos Pelgo and embraced the life he had given the people of his town. But after spending near all his years working himself to the bone, it’s hard to drop the habit. [2/? chapters]

Other resources:

OC Guide

Our Anonymity Is Your Protection (But Sometimes Our Masks Fall Away)

The Grand Inquisitor

A series of short stories centered around our favorite Grand Inquisitor, starting from his time as part of the Jedi Temple Guard.

Incorrect Quotes:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Part 12

Part 13

Other resources:

Name pronunciations

Rakesh Brem & his master

Art for the series can be found both here on my blog or on my DeviantArt page.

Battle Born | Tech & His Goggles

Tech

A collection of related one-shots based on a headcanon that Tech’s goggles help him to see. Lots of angst and sibling bonding included. (Non-canon compliant with Batch content that comes out after the first season).

The Lengths We’ll Go, The Heights We’ll Reach

Tech & Hunter

The kidnapping becomes the least of their problems, and now the Bad Batch is plagued with sorrow, regret, and the shadow of what could have been.

Take A Deep Breath, You're Home

Echo

A series of one-shots in which Echo finds his place in the Batch and comes to peace with his losses.

Solus Tome (Alone Together)

Fives

The Bad Batch brings Rex to the sunken remains of Tipoca City. Within her walls, they find a cryo stasis chamber- and, inside it, a fractured soul in desperate need of healing. Or, Clone Force 99 finds and adopts another traumatized reg.

Silence Is A Lonely Country

Ian Malcolm

The dead live, and Ian Malcolm bears that truth in the form of a grizzly wound on his arm. On the run across the wildlands of Central America, he and the others do their best to survive the beginning of the apocalypse.

Memories Keep Us Alive | Until Next Month

Jack Russell

Once he gathers the courage to send the first letter, they begin to come in after each full moon, telling of tales no one would believe had they not seen the impossible with their own eyes.

Or, five letters that Jack Russell sends to his sister, and one time he gets a reply.

Let No Man Be Another's Who Can Be His Own

Jack Sparrow

Following Lord Beckett’s demise, Elizabeth Turner leads the Brethren Court in a series of raids against the scattered East India Trading Company. At first, it’s the smaller outposts. And then she leads them against a rather large establishment in West Africa. There, she finally learns how one Jack Sparrow wound up a pirate.

[vvitchering]

I don’t suppose you’d write 28 for DinCobb?? :3 thank you for taking prompts!!

This is extremely late. I don't even remember when it was that I was taking these prompts but I definitely wanted to get to yours eventually. And it's eventually o'clock right now!

#28 "Mary me?"

Cobb doesn't pretend to understand the unique connection between Mandalorians and their armor. He knows next to nothing, aside from what he's learned firsthand: don't get caught wearing the stuff if you ain't one of them.

Then again, it's thanks to his unknowing armor-related sacrilege that he has the life he has now. The armor helped him save his home and his people. And it brought Din into his life; never mind that it brought him in guns blazing. That fateful day in the cantina and resulting battle against the Krayt feel light years away, now.

He remembers watching Din ride away out of his life as quickly as he had walked into it and feeling a peculiar sense of loss that only had a little bit to do with giving up the armor. Every glint on the horizon from then on set his heart beating faster and disappointment soured his stomach each time it wasn't the twin suns reflecting off polished beskar.

When the mandalorian did eventually return, helmetless and dead-eyed, it hadn't been a hardship to take him in. He's less the legendary mandalorian now and more Din Djarin, all soft brown eyes and shy smiles and dry humor.

He doesn't wear the armor like he used to. Most of it is packed safely away in a padded crate, traded in for proper desert attire. He still wears the piece that functions as a brace for his bum knee, for practical reasons, and the pauldron with the mudhorn signet, for less practical (but no less valid) reasons.

Cobb often wonders if it makes him a selfish asshole that he's the happiest he's been in decades because Din's misfortune lead him back to Tatooine. Back to him. They have a life together now. They're partners, in multiple ways. Din helps out defending and growing the town, providing valuable tactical and weapons knowledge as well as his skill with the Tuskan language.

He also does a damn good job keeping Cobb's bed warm at night.

All in all, things are good. Great, even. But there's still that nagging sense that Cobb is missing something important every time he catches the far away look in Din's eyes as he carefully polishes his few remaining pieces of armor.

Is he missing his previous life? Does he regret settling on this dust ball of a planet? Will Cobb wake up one day to find that Din Djarin has disappeared and the mandalorian has taken to the stars once again?

Cobb would never presume to tie him down. He's grateful for every day he gets to spend with Din, he truly is. He knows that when the day comes that Din packs up his box of beskar and leaves (and its most certainly a "when", not an "if"), more than a little bit of Cobb's tired old heart will go with him.

They're turning in for bed one evening when Din begins acting strangely. He's been fidgety and distracted all day, anxious in a way Cobb has never seen him be before. He keeps opening his mouth as if he wants to say something, then closing it again and turning away. He refuses eye contact and shies away when Cobb tries to touch him. He's constantly reaching up to rub at the mudhorn signit on his shoulder. Cobb suddenly feels like he's standing on the edge of a terrifying precipice. This must be it. This must be the night Din puts the rest of his armor back on and tells him he's leaving in the morning. This is the night the illusion of their happy life together finally shatters.

Cobb feels sick down to his core as he hears the unmistakable sound of beskar chiming as it's clasp is undone. He clenches his fist at his side and squeezes his eyes shut.

Only to snap them open in surprise as he feels Din approach and gently take his arm.

He's not wearing his armor. He's dressed in the same soft familiar sleep clothes he's worn to bed a hundred times. He looks resolved, determined, and only a touch nervous. He's holding his pauldron in one hand, the other still gently grasping Cobb's arm.

"What do you know about beskar?" Din asks, and his voice is quiet but steady.

"Not a lot. Just what you've told me. Mostly that's important to you. To, uh, to your people. Mandalorians." Cobb stutters out, confused by the strange question and unnerved by the entire situation.

Din smiles reassuringly and Cobb takes a breath.

"It is important. It protects us, strengthens us, unites us as a people, even scattered as we are. It binds us together. It's sacred."

The words sound strangely formal, like Din is reciting something.

"Sure," Cobb responds slowly. "'s why folks who ain't sworn your creed have no business wearing it. You made that plenty clear when we met that first time. What are you getting at?"

Din lifts the pauldron and presses it against Cobb's shoulder. It doesn't quite fit, it's made for Din's bulkier more muscular frame, but it feels warm with his residual body heat and Cobb can feel the weight of it through his thin shirt as Din holds it against him. Din is staring at him, a question hiding behind his dark eyes.

It protects us...

He can't be serious.

unites us...

This can't be what he thinks it is.

It binds us together.

"Cobb Vanth," Din says his name so reverently it makes tears spring into his eyes. His heart is beating so loud in his own ears it's a wonder he can hear anything at all over the sound.

"Marry me?"

Cobb feels like he's floating somewhere just above his body. He must be dreaming. He never wants to wake up, in that case. He'll just float here forever, replaying those two words endlessly.

The silence stretches on long enough that Din begins to visibly panic, curling his fingers under the pauldron to pull it back. Cobb snaps back to himself in an instant and slaps his own hand over Din's, stopping him from removing the piece of armor. Din is staring again, mouth slightly open, and Cobb loosens his grip slightly so they're both supporting the pauldron together.

The tears are flowing freely now, rolling down his cheeks in embarrassing streams because it's too much to bear, too much to keep inside. He's fit to burst with happiness.

"Yeah, yes, you son of a bitch. Had me worried sick you were gonna up and leave and here you are, making an honest man out of me."

Din looks a bit weepy himself as his panic morphs into relief and he laughs as he leans forward to press his forehead against Cobb's other shoulder.

"Huh, ol' Cobb Vanth getting hitched. It'll be the talk of the town."

Din's laughter is infectious and soon they're both laughing through their tears.

"Shut up or I'll take it back."

"Nah, see, this is mine now. No take backs. I got this the proper way, Mandalorian blessings and everything, and I'm holding onto it this time."

---

:)

I wrote this all in one go without stopping so I apologize for any errors. Shout out to @chamomileteainabuttercup for being a good sport and listening to me ramble about dincobb stuff until I had ideas! And to @godtier1, I'm sorry this took 87 years!!!!! I hope you like it!

[swiftiesimonriley]

jealous din djarin x f! reader ft. cobb vanth

thank you so much to the anon for the request!! just a warning there is some light nsfw content ahead:

ok so this takes place at the start of season 2

lets say you've been part of the “crew” of the razor crest for a few months, serving as both a medic and a translator - not that din can’t translate for himself - but it serves as an added bonus!

you had been invited to join the crew after din gets injured on the hunt for a bounty in a backwater cantina on the planet you lived on

before din could get the binders on the bail jumper, he was able to stab din in one of the only places not protected by his coveted beskar - sending the seasoned mandalorian to the floor with a deep wound in his inner thigh

you just happened to be getting a drink in the cantina that night after your shift at the local medcenter

you had heard from the village elders the stories of mandalorians - that they were cold, calculating and ruthless - but all of those old stories flew out of your head as you jumped over the bar counter to treat the beskar covered man bleeding out onto the floor

din can still hear how calm and soothing your voice was to him in that moment, how you respected his privacy by not asking his name but treating him even when the rest of the patrons in the cantina looked at him with such fear - if you were not here, he most certainly would have met his maker

after treating his wound you offered him lodging in your small apartment while he healed, opting to help watch his foundling when you got home for work

at the end of the week he was ready to go back to work, but he felt a heaviness in his heart leaving you behind here - that night over dinner asking if you would like to join him

flash forward to now, din lands the crest at peli’s hangar and the two of you walk out with the child, the warm tatooine sun more unforgiving that that of the planet you spent your entire life on - thanking the maker that din mentioned you might be more comfortable in a little something more lightweight

you hold the child close as din talks to peli, not missing her comment about “it being nice to see the mandalorian has found a mate” to which din awkwardly coughs and you just know he’s blushing under that helmet

while you and din haven’t explicitly discussed the nature of your relationship, you have started spending a lot more time in his small bunk (when the child is not in there)

din had managed to get pretty bruised up after a fight with a bounty, and when he needed to remove his flight suit so you could access his injuries, you couldn’t help but blush as his toned skin was right at your fingertips

that night you rode him in the bunk, his cool beskar helmet hidden in the crook of your neck as your moans echo throughout the cargo hold

ever since then, the two of you have been fucking

but alas he still is your boss and you two keep things professional outside of the ship

flash forward to the trip to mos pelgo, sitting behind the bounty hunter with your arms tightly around his trim waist, an old pair of peli’s goggles over your eyes so you can prefect your eyes, something din had insisted on

it’s when the speeder bike comes to a stop near the cantina that din insists you wait outside for him, telling you that he will be back after making sure it’s safe

you nod in agreement, knowing there’s no real reason to start an argument, even though you are capable of handling yourself, and watch as he enters the bar, instead opting to watch the child

you look down at dins pack and gasp, seeing the little menace has taking off running after his papa in the direction of the bar - taking off after him without even watching where you are going - finding yourself slamming into a wall of green beskar

the impact of landing on your back knocks the wind out of you, hearing a faint “cyar’ika!” from inside as the man before you turns and offers a hand

“you gotta be careful sweetheart,” the man says effortlessly, helping you to your feet, “there’s some people around these parts that might not be so nice to ya.”

a soft blush appears on your cheeks at the use of the pet name, watching as din stands up to meet the two of you, gently patting your shoulder and asking if you are alright before telling the man before you that he is the one you have been searching for - another mandalorian

you watch as the marshall makes his way to the bar and orders three shots of spotchka, something that sits weird in your stomach as there’s no way that you can just down three shots yourself

following the marshall to the small table, you watch as he offers the pair of you a shot, to which din declines as you would expect but something in you goes for it, taking the small glass and throwing back the strong liquid, grimacing a bit as the taste sets in

“at least i have someone to keep up with me,” the marshall teases, lifting his hands up to remove his helmet and your eyes go wide as he places it down likes its a normal thing to do, your hand going to grip at one of dins arms in shock

din is obviously shocked as well, his heartbeat picking up as your grip on his arm tightens, watching the almost coy smile plays at the lips of the man across the table

the two begin going back and forth, cobb confessing he bought the armor off of some jawas, and din demanding he take it off

“it’s not proper for me to remove my armor right here, especially in front of such a pretty young lady.”

din is seeing red

if the helmet & beskar situation wasn’t already setting him off, the flirty comments being directed your way were

it wasn’t like the two of you had put a label on things, but he wasn’t going to let this nerf herder hit on you like that - most people wouldn’t dare even thinking about trying something like that to you when he was around - but this man had never dealt with a real mandalorian before

din missed the way you rolled your eyes at the comment, to busy in his own thoughts as the marshall suggests a duel for the armor since it seemed so important to din, but the sudden rumbling noise and shaking of the room sends you into panic mode

immediately you grab the child and pull him to your chest as din practically does the same to you - tucking your head under his chin as the shaking continues - only to pull away slowly when the noise and movement slows to a stop

you look up at him wide eyed, a few pieces of stray hair framing your face as you tell him you are going to see if anyone is hurt and din swears in that moment he is in love with you, standing as you lean your forehead against his helmet, a keldabe kiss, to which you do not know the meaning of, and watching as you grab your bag and head out towards the streets where civilians assess the damage

“you gotta good girl there mando,” the marshall draws, “you better stake your claim before someone else takes her to be-“

before he can finish the sentence din wraps a hand around his throat, pinning him to the nearest wall

“i’ll help you kill the krait dragon and in return you give me the armor and leave my girl alone.”

the look on the marshalls face is enough for din, but he makes a mental note to show you that night you are his

taglist: @catchmeupimgettingoutofhere @salome-c @jasterslegacy @marydjarin @hnt-escape wanna be added? send me an ask!!

[i-dnt-know-either]

Thinkin bout DinCobb soulmate AUs like:

That one AU where you don’t see color until you make eye contact with your soulmate. Except it has to be direct eye contact, so looking through the visor of a helmet doesn’t count. It’s one of the reasons the Children of the Watch are so adamant about the helmets at all time thing—a soulmate is a weakness, something an enemy can exploit. And so we have Din and Cobb, unknowing soulmates because Din is stuck behind his visor. And then Din wanders back to the marshal after giving Grogu to Luke, lost and just on the edge of broken, and he takes his helmet off because what does it matter anymore and suddenly he realizes that Cobb’s scarf is red and oh no he’s crying again. And Cobb wraps his arms around him and holds him as he falls apart, too busy worrying and caring for this broken man to admire the world around him. It’s only an hour later, when the tears have stopped, that Cobb lets himself think about colors and all he can think about is brown curls and brown eyes and how none of the other colors even matter. And Din is doing the same, deciding that red is his favorite color because it’s Cobb’s color.

Or the one where you have your soulmate’s name tattooed on you somewhere. And Cobb’s been waiting his whole life to meet whoever Din Djarin is, whereas Din is terrified he’ll meet Cobb Vanth at the end of a blaster or see his name first on a bounty puck before he ever hears the person introduce themselves. So when they meet, and Cobb does introduce himself—wrapped in armor that’s not his, maybe-not-quite an enemy—Din isn’t sure what to do. And Din spends the rest of his time with the marshal panicking over what to do. By the time they defeat the krayt dragon, the armor has been properly returned and Cobb is most definitely an ally-maybe-friend, and Din has to make a split second decision on if he’s going to reveal his name—because he has to leave, has to complete his mission, but damn if the marshal doesn’t make him want to stay. And Cobb deserves to know—deserves to know his soulmate is more or less a living suit of beskar, doomed to roam the stars forever. So he tells him, prepares himself for the worst, and is surprised when Cobb just smiles and tells him he’d better plan on staying at least the night then because Cobb’s not about to let him go that easily, not when he just got him. (Putting the rest under a cut cause this post got long)

Or the one where anything you write on your skin shows up on your soulmate. Cobb takes up a habit of always carrying a marker with him—markers last the longest on his skin—and he’ll write down his thoughts throughout the day, tell his soulmate about Mos Pelgo, sometimes he’ll make little doodles if he’s bored. He writes jokes and stories, hoping his soulmate reads them. His skin is bare—he had one single sentence show up in his entire life. “My name is Din Djarin.” Nothing else, and Cobb wonders and wonders. And then the Mandalorian walks into his town, and Cobb takes his marker that night and tells his soulmate about shiny beskar and adorable green children. The next morning Mando acts funny, keeps staring at him when he thinks he’s not looking. It isn’t until a day after they defeat the krayt dragon—and Cobb takes the time to tell that story in detail, taking up the skin on both of his thighs and one of his arms—that words appear, dark ink rippling across his left forearm. “I hope our paths cross again.” Cobb smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. Din becomes a bit more interactive at that point—not much, but he’ll let Cobb know he and the child are safe, where they are, what they’re doing. The sentences are usually short and to the point, but Cobb cherishes every one. He keeps Din up to date on Mos Pelgo, the townspeople, the Tuskens. Wishes him “good night” and “stay safe” every night before he goes to bed, tells him “good morning” and “good luck” when he wakes up. Sometimes he’ll just write Din’s name on his arm, a secret between the two of them, and it sends a thrill through him when his own name appears mirrored on his other arm. And then the messages stop. And Cobb’s terrified, weeks go by until finally a message appears, the handwriting shaky. “We’re safe. Kid is with his people. Can I come home?” And Cobb tells him yes, of course. An unfamiliar ship appears in Mos Pelgo soon after, touches down just long enough for one person to disembark, still beskar wrapped but helmet tucked under his arm. And Cobb opens his arms and welcomes him home.

Or the one where any wounds you take—bruises, scratches, scars—appear on your soulmate. And Din would feel sorry for his soulmate—he’s been through a lot, during training and then as an adult—if he didn’t have so many bruises and cuts and scars from his soulmate too. He can’t help but wonder who they are, what they’re like to have just as many injuries as he does. It isn’t until the star-shaped scar appears and someone tells him what that probably means that he understands. And he feels anger and sorrow and a whole mess of emotions that he can’t do anything about because he doesn’t even know who or where his soulmate is—only that they’re a slave. So Din takes that rage and bottles it up, pushes harder into his training so that if he ever does meet his soulmate he can protect them, free them. By the time he meets Cobb, a lot of the rage has gone out, time and stress wearing down on him. He’s not really thinking about his soulmate when he offers to treat the marshal’s injuries after the fight with the krayt dragon—the marshal had offered the same to him, so it was only fair. They’re back in Mos Pelgo that night, in the marshal’s home, and Cobb has to remove his shirt so Din can get to some nasty bruising around his ribs. And there’s that star-shaped scar, right where Din’s is, and Din isn’t even thinking when he reaches out to touch it. Cobb whips around, anger flaring up in him, and Din scrambles to explain. Cobb doesn’t believe him until Din takes his armor and shirt off and shows the marshal the identical mark on his back. And Cobb is silent, unsteady, and so Din pulls him close and apologizes for all the scars he left on Cobb’s body over the years—there’s a lot, he knows. And Cobb apologizes too, because he’s never been able to back down from a fight, and it’s been a rough life. And they spend hours into the night telling the stories of their scars, tracing over them like roadmaps of their lives.

[mandoalorian]

I know I sent in a request like this week but I saw your post about you being sick so if you want something to do I’ve always had a headcanon that Mando would take his helmet off in front of the kid so what about he’s playing with the kid while you’re supposed to be off the crest but you come back early and see him and he gets all angst but then he’s like I wanted to marry you before anyway this just gives me a reason

Also I really hope you get better soon I hate being sick so if there’s anything I can do to lighten your day let me know!!!

Children with Din Djarin

DAY SIX: Children with Din Djarin [requested by @cobb--vanth but thankyou @100layersofdaddyissues for submitting this specific request weeks ago! I'm sorry it took so long to complete but I figured it was the perfect time to combine both the prompt and the request. I hope this is okay/what you imagined!]

Taglist (let me know if you want to be added!)

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos

December Writing Challenge: @mandos-blaster @silent-and-resigned @valentinasubmarina

December Writing Challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Word count: 1.8k

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: mention of recreational drug (spice), pregnancy, mentions of sex but nothing explicit.

The beskar helmet was on the mantle in the hull of the ship when you returned— although you hadn't noticed. You hadn't thought to assume it would be there. You figured it would be on your boyfriend's head. It always was. You had come back from the farmers market about half an hour earlier than expected, with a paper bag filled with sourberries and powdered caf. You placed the paper bag by the door, tapping a few buttons on the Crest's panel and watched it slide shut. You sighed, rolling your shoulders and letting out a tired yawn before padding to the cockpit.

"Grogu," Din called, his unmodulated voice was soft like honey. The helmet had certainly enhanced the gruffness and his rasp, but he didn't sound completely unfamiliar. The little green bean gargled at the calling of his name and Din let out a chuckle. "On three I want you to grab the ball," Din ordered, holding the metal ball between his gloved finger tips. "One… two…." the metal ball shot out of his hand and into Grogu's tiny green claws. "Dank Farrik!" Din gasped, slapping his knee. "Great job kid, but I said on the count of three. It's all about timing, remember-"

The cockpit door slid open and you entered with a sigh. You hadn't told Din why you were really so desperate to visit the farmer's market. "Can't it wait?" he would ask, to which you replied with a simple shake of the head. He wouldn't fight with you. He wouldn't argue with you. If you wanted to visit the market then that would be your next stop. "Maybe spice will help your nausea?" Din suggested, but if your intuition was correct, there'd be no way you'd be taking recreational spice anytime soon. You had told Din you'd just look for some more bacta. It's not what you needed, but it was a good excuse since he was running low on it last time you checked the medbox.

"The market didn't have any bacta pods; we'll have to stop some place on the way to-" you froze, your voice coming to a halt when you saw him. The Mandalorian.

The Mandalorian you had fallen in love with. You met him around eight months ago during one of his bounties on Corellia. He picked you up, assigned you as 'crew' on his ship and not only did he save your life— he changed your life. He gave you hope and meaning and purpose. Your feelings weren't one sided.

Din was enamoured with you. It started with the way you were with the child, so gentle and caring. It was the way you tended to his injuries when he came back after a bounty. "Sweet girl," he'd mutter, his mind in a euphoric haze from all the bacta as you bandaged him up. "So soft. So pretty."

You pushed away the comments. Focusing on them would do you no good. You knew enough about his creed to know that any romantic interaction between you would render pointless. Besides, he was a bounty hunter. He was too busy. He wouldn't want to settle down. Or so you thought.

He was going to ask. He had to ask. Your relationship with Din had got physical in the last few months. It started with gentle touches, the slight grazing of bare skin. When he held you, you felt safe—protected—untouchable. In his strong arms, it was like nobody could get you. Nobody would tear you away. Din would often find ways to satisfy himself, or at least visit a brothel in the depths of the inner-rim that would keep him going for a few days tops.

He swore with you it could just be a one time thing. With Din, that's all sex was meant to be. One time. No strings attached. Easy. But it wasn't. Din could shut out his feelings as much as he wanted but in that moment when the lights went out and he removed his helmet, placing gentle kisses in between your thighs and towards your core, there was no denying the emotion and the chemistry.

So it wasn't just a one time thing. It became a regular occurrence. And you loved it as much as he did. But now, look where you were.

He had brown locks of hair, dark brown and wavy, curling at the nape of his neck. The curve in his nose looked as though it had been crafted by the Maker himself, it was so perfect. His skin was tan, and the golden bronze rendered you somewhat speechless as you wondered where he had found the time to remove his helmet and catch a little sun. It must've been natural. He was beautiful. You recognised his stubble. When you saw it, you could place it with the memory of feeling it when he nestled between your legs. You pursed your lips into a fine line at the memory.

Din was frozen too. He didn't even blink, instead, staring at the child as if Grogu would give him the answer he so desperately required. This was it. No living thing (besides Grogu), had seen Din without his helmet since he had sworn to the creed when he was just a young boy. He wanted you to see him— he really did. So much so he had considered marriage, and the ring crafted from solid beskar felt like the heaviest weight in his pocket right now— as you stood in the door frame with your lips perfectly parted. He was just waiting for the perfect time. But now, all that had been taken away from him and he only had himself to blame.

You whispered his name timidly, tears pricking your eyes. "I'm sorry." you said quietly and waited a few moments for a response. But nothing. Just the sounds of your hitched breathing and the child's confused babbling echoed through the cockpit. You sniffed, walking back into the hull of the ship and picking up his helmet. You closed your eyes out of politeness and handed Din his helmet. He took it from you and placed it on his lap, his finger tracing the curves and edges. He realised you were still standing there with your eyes closed. You were waiting for him to put on his mask so you could open your eyes.

A million thoughts raced in your mind. Was this going to be it? What if he was going to kick you off his ship? Or even worse, would he kill you? Would The Mandalorian have you terminated? No… surely not, you knew your Mando… but the silence in the room was deafening. You were half expecting him to quick draw his blaster and shoot you in the heart, get the job over and done with.

But Din done no such thing. He placed his helmet on the chair next to Grogu and took the beskar ring out of his pocket, polishing it slightly with the leather of his mustard gloves. He threw his gloves aimlessly to one side and dropped down to one knee.

"I've taken my helmet off," he lied through his teeth. You did consider his voice sounded strangely unmodulated, but you didn't think too much of it. After all, surely Din wasn't going to be dishonest about such a thing.

You opened your eyes, gasping when you were greeted with Din down on one knee holding the most beautiful ring up. "Cyare, will you marry me?" he asked.

You were too taken aback by his face than the ring. Beautiful. A glint in his dark eyes, the way his pink lips curled into a positive smile. He was perfect. How could someone as rugged and experienced as the Mandalorian look so damn beautiful under all that beskar?

"Din…" your voice was barely audible as a lonely tear fell down your cheek. "If this is because I saw you without your helmet…"

"No sweet girl," he told you, nervously biting his lip. "I've been carrying this ring around for months just waiting for the right moment. I've wanted this for a long time." he revealed, causing your heart to flutter.

"Are you sure?" you croaked, smiling and finally diverting your eyes to the gorgeous silver ring.

"I've never been so certain about anything in my life," Din replied quickly. "Cyare, please, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

"Yes!" you cried, tears falling down your cheeks as he slid the ring onto your finger. You wrapped your arms around The Mandalorian and he held you tight, picking you up and spinning you around.

"I love you so much," He mumbled in your ear, biting down on your love gently as you brought your hands to cup his cheeks. "Is it what you imagined?" he asked, gesturing towards his face as you took in every single detail. Every freckle and scar.

"So much better." you told him, noticing a small pink blush crawl over his cheeks. "Din." your tone was like velvet as it interrupted the adoring silence.

"Mm?" Din mumbled, his hands falling to your waist. You pulled off him slightly so you could look at him in the eyes.

"I don't need bacta for my nausea," you revealed nervously. "And I can't take spice because… well, I think. I'm pregnant."

Din blinked, staring at you. "Wh- pregnant?"

"I was so scared to say anything but I have a gut feeling… I can't describe. It's just like… I know. I can feel it." you told him. Din was speechless.

Grogu shimmied out of the copilot chair and reached up to your stomach, closing his eyes and reaching out. "What's he doing?" Din asked eventually as Grogu hummed a deep breath. You felt it. You closed your eyes and knelt to the child's level so he could place his claw on your lower tummy.

"He feels it too," you whispered. "It's true. I am pregnant." you confirmed and Din's lips curved into an ecstatic smile.

"This is a happy day," Din said, picking up the child and cradling him in one arm while he wrapped his free arm around your waist and pulled you into his chest. "The happiest day of my life."

[readbythestarlight]

BoBF chapter 7: In The Name of Honor

Oh god here we go

A whole hour huh

I totally forgot the cantina blew up

Hiiiii Boba and Fennec nice to see you again!!

Din standing up for Mos Pelgo ;~;

B: “you are confident he will come”

D: “I am”

Me: *cries because the TRUST*

Also tho god please let Cobb be okay enough show up Din believes in him

Y’all best not get most of Mos Pelgo killed tho

A showdown in a blown up cantina feels a little Mando s1 finale doesn’t it

Also I still don’t like the street kids not sorry

You can’t protect anybody from a blown out husk make it make sense

Fuck off Bane

I’m so worried about Cobb

Oh wow, they killed them. I’m shocked. (Not lol)

Wait

An X-Wing

IS IT LUKE DID GROGU CHOOSE IS HE BRINGING OUR BOY HOME???

BABY

HE CHOSE DIN

I’m gonna cry

God if anything happens to Grogu if he gets out in even the SLIGHTEST danger I will kill

IM GONNA CRY

HE CHOSE DIIIIIIIN

Omg of the little mail shirt saves him at any point I’ll weep and sob

Ah, exposition

They keep saying “when Cobb/the people of Freetown show up” which makes me think they’re not going to. Or like the show wants me to think they’re not going to.

Oh fuck okay

Just shoot him Boba

I hope Din doesn’t find out Bane shot Cobb here it’ll hurt me

You tell him Boba

FUCK

FUCK FUCK FUCK

“You should have never left him without his armor” FUCK

Oh

Bane, what’s your play here??

Telling him that??

Boba honey be smart

No baby don’t we al know Filoni won’t let you kill his OC

Boba listen to Fennec

“He killed Vanth” NO HE DIDNT

RIP the biker kids and the Wookie I guess

Wow he got betrayed I’m shocked again (nottttt)

Oh and the Gamoreans too

RIP everyone but Boba and Fennec and Din I guess

Why does all the tension seemed so forced and why am I supposed to care about these street call kids we’ve spent no time with

YEAHHHH FENNEC

But yeah anyway this has such weird s1 finale of Mando vibes

Oh shit this exchange

“I suppose you’ll be heading out.”

“I’m not.”

“You should.”

“It’s against the Creed. I have you my word. I’m with you until we both fall.”

“You really buy into that bantha fodder?”

“I do.”

“Good.”

Din

“We’ll both die in the name of honor.”

Din. Din your son is here Din you can’t.

Din you can’t sign up for a suicide mission

Twi’lek man is going to die

Oh no Boba what did you write

Boba you’re gonna get him shot

Damn Boba that’s poetic

YEAHHHHHH FUCK EM UP BOYS

JET PACKS HELL YEAH

oh this is everything I love this

BOBA

knee missile lol

Okay Din and Boba fighting side by side is so badass. Boba covering Din while he’s down.

WHISTLING BIRDS

Finally some delicious fucking food

Okay so this is where Freetown comes in to save the day right

YEAHHHHH

WEEQUAY

…okay Cobb tho?

Where?

“I’m sorry about the Marshal.”

“Gunned him down in cold blood.”

STOP TRYING TO MAKE ME THINK HE’S DEAD

These low speed speeders are so dumb still I hate them

JO

Yay Wookie

So actually that was a fake out and no one is dead huh

Except he might actually die

RIP Wookie friend

Oh wait no Boba’s gonna save him

And Din

What a team

Oh dear

I’ll take more Boba and Din fighting together but otherwise I feel like no stakes in this fight

DARKSABER YEAH

Oh my god

Boba gonna go get the Tuskens!!

DIN BE CAREFUL YOUR SON IS HERE

PELI NOW IS NOT THE TIME

At least I don’t see Grogu thank god

GEOGU HUG GROGU HUG GROGU HUG

y’all I’m crying

“Hey that’s the shirt. You got the shirt.” Y’all I’m literally weeping.

Din football catching Grogu is adorable

What…

OH HE WENT FOR THE RANCOR

Wait

The baby rancor is suddenly combat ready??

If the rancor dies I will actually care way more than I would if any of the street punks die

YEAHHHH DAEKSABER

Fuck it up Grogu save ur dad

HES SAVING DIN AGAIN

YEAHHHHH BABY

Boba on the rancor is ridiculous and badass all at once lol

I’d say Jo/Punk Girl Whose Name I Don’t Know but I already have Jo with an OC so

lol Peli joining the fight

“Peli’s for you covered” I adore her

SOMEONE KILL THIS BLUE FUCK FOR ME I BEG

Where is Fennec

Kill him Boba do it

I hate this blue fuck seriously

Honestly though I’d like to see more of him as an antagonist to Boba

Fuck you Bane

YEAHHHH FUCK HIM UP WKTH YOUR GAFFI STICK THAT REPRESENTS THE FAMILY YOU FOUND THAT HELPED YOU BECOME SOMEONE OTHER THAN WHO YOU USED TO BE

Holy shit they let him kill him

VINDICAAAAATIIIOOOOOON

Uh stop shooting Boba’s rancor what

Tho is this King Kong scene necessary

He gave Grogu the ball I’m weeping

DIN

Definitely gonna need some recovery time and TLC

Grogu will tame the savage beast

Nappy time awwww

Oh please fuck then up Boba

I still wanna know where Fennec is

OH
there she is

Fennec shouldn’t you have let Boba do that?? Why did she get to kill the head Pyke??

If he leaves Tatooine to the punk kids

Grogu in his little bubble 😭

“lmaoooo Grogu wants the zoomies!!”

OH MY GOD

COBB IS IN THE BACTA THANK RIGHT

HE IS

METAL

ARM

COBB??

He had better have consented to that because modifying him without his consent when they could have just healed him first (he was shot in the right shoulder no way was he going to die once they got him in bacta) and then checked.

Also in general I don’t like the mods.

But y’all i’m SCREAMING

Din and Grogu!

And this probably means more Cobb in future?? I’m so torn about how I feel about him being modified tho I hope he looks better than the current “mods” do. Something natural and understated like Fennec.

Also tho Boba should have gotten to kill the head Pyke and avenge his tribe.

And I have no idea where they’ll take Boba and Fennec from here.

[elenamiria]

New in Town

Cobb Vanth x Reader

Summary: You, a new resident in Mos Pelgo, gets to know the Marshal over a drink and it turns into something more.

Word Count: 2.8k Warnings: Slight hurt/comfort, smut, fem reader, slight authority kink, pet names, unprotected sex, p in v sex, creampie

Masterlist & Tags (Tagging my normal peeps, no pressure to read if you’re not into Cobb!): @anakinswhore​ @a-dorin​ @fishswimbetterunderwater​ @blxwjobsforclones​ @lynnie51​ @katrynec​ @mistermiraclee​

“Well hello there Marshal.” You drawled, standing up straight from where you had been lounging against the bar. The man who was confidently striding into the cantina faltered at your voice and his eyes darted around the empty bar. You shot him a friendly smile, putting down the glass you had been cleaning and holding a hand out to invite him towards you. He shot you a wary glance before his face cracked into a charming lopsided smile, “Do I know you?”

You laughed and shook your head, “Nah I doubt you do, I’m your newest resident.”

At this the Marshal’s posture relaxed slightly as he took several long strides over to you, your eyes taking in his appearance before tossing your towel over your shoulder and laying your hands on the counter. You were about to ask what you could get him but he beat you to the punch.

“I’ll take a snort of spotchka, and does the new resident have a name?”

You nodded at him and properly introduced yourself as you fetched his drink, pouring the bright blue liquid easily. The marshal took it from you gratefully, taking a deep drink before sighing wearily. His smile covered his face again as he spoke, “Cobb Vanth, I’m the Marshal around here but you seem to know that already.”

“Right. That must’ve seemed strange. The Weequay mentioned that you’d probably be in, that you’re here most days anymore. Didn’t elaborate on what that meant but he gave me your description.” You ended with an awkward smile, your new boss had seemed almost rueful at the Marshal’s habits. Your suspicions that this was a newer behavior, one not in character for the man that you had only just met were confirmed when Cobb shifted in his seat, pointedly avoiding eye contact, and his fingers curled tightly around his drink. You allowed your gaze to linger on the silver haired man and eventually your eyes locked as his gaze darted back to your face before nervously scampering away like a scared Scurrier. A long sigh slid from his mouth in such a familiar fashion that you knew something as heavy as the baggage you brought with you must be weighing on his mind. Your head tilted in intrigue and just as you were about to admit defeat his deep brown eyes slid to meet yours. There was a weariness there as he finally spoke, “The village, they treat me differently since I gave up my armor.”

When he trailed off a slight frown covered your face, his gaze had once again slid from your face during his short sentence but it flitted back to you once more. He was searching for something but you couldn't be sure what, you had a fairly good guess though - validation. Having come from the Cantina at Mos Eisley you had seen your fair share of men who came to drink their fears away and you had gotten good at reading people, not that the skill had helped when you truly needed it but it served you well enough for your occupation. With your guess in mind you smiled at Cobb sweetly, “Really? You could’ve fooled me, strolling in here so confident you could have convinced me you own the place if I hadn’t met my boss yesterday.”

He laughed at this, a light sound that brought a wide grin to your face - a sound that if you weren't careful you could find yourself craving, "Really? Maybe I don't know my own power."

Cobb said this lightly, as a joke, but your smile softened and the words flew from your mouth before you could stop them, "Maybe you don't."

His eyes locked with yours and you felt heat rising in your cheeks as something changed in his gaze, he sat up a little taller as you broke the connection between the two of you. Your gaze darted to the ground before you cleared your throat and just as you were about to leave the Marshal in peace he spoke again.

"I'm afraid they don't think I'll be able to protect them without the armor. But I'm still me and I'd still lay down my life for these people, they're my family. It's just....it's not easy knowing that they don't see me the same as before." His words were steady and strong now as if he had been holding this back for some time and you sure he had, no one to talk to but the very people unknowingly causing his distress. At his words you let a gentle smirk cover your face as you leaned lazily on the bar separating the two of you, something in the air had shifted a palpable tension having appeared, you could tell he'd hit his stride and you were more than willing to take a leap to see where this could take you. With that in mind you spoke, “Well I’d trust you to protect me just like that, no armor needed, if that means anything Marshal.”

Your teeth sank into your lower lip and it was only then that you realized just how far over the bar you were leaning, your elbows planted firmly. You didn’t miss the way Cobb’s dark brown eyes focused on your lips for just a split second, settling on your mischievous gaze as he breathed out, “Is that so, darlin’?”

You wanted to kiss him though your brain chided your impulsiveness but when his eyes were once again drawn to your lips you banished any hesitation. Lithe fingers grasped Cobb’s bandanna and tugged, bringing his mouth crashing into yours. In an instant the Marshal was out of his seat, leaning into you as his mouth worked against yours furiously and you knew he must have felt the same spark that you did. Embers lighting deep within you had your lips eagerly parting for his tongue to roam your mouth while his hands cupped your face so he could deepen the already intense kiss. Your hands came to grab at his arms, nails digging into the red fabric of his shirt as he left you breathless. When the two of you parted you panted as you tried to convince yourself that the spontaneous kiss had actually just happened and Cobb leaned back just a fraction as a coy smile covered his face. Roles reversed now as your eyes darted to his lips, your breath hitched as you backed away scrambling towards the door. Cobb's eyes widened in bewilderment and you nearly laughed as you turned back to see him, "Close the door if you will."

At your order his eyes lit up as he moved as quickly as you did to the entrance of the bar in order to close the near permanently open door to the cantina while you locked the worker entrance. By the time he had turned back towards you you had climbed onto the counter in order to move towards him. Once you were near the edge of the counter you allowed your legs to dangle over the side, as Cobb reached you again he firmly grasped your knees and tugged you forwards, slotting your hips together. It was seconds before your mouths were melding together again and your arms flung around his shoulders to pull him as close as possible. He must have been feeling as desperate as you were, his hands grabbed your hips to press your curves into him. A whimper slid from your mouth as your clothed cunt pressed against something decidedly hard. You gave a tentative roll of your hips and as Cobb pulled apart to moan your name softly you knew exactly what was pressing into you.

A throaty giggle left you as you teased, "Now Marshal is that a blaster or are you just that happy to see me."

He groaned at your cheesy line before growling out a 'c'mere' and one hand cupping your cheek to pull you into another fiery kiss. His bead scratched at your face in a way that had your fingers digging into his shoulders. Your hips rolled against his again and you were rewarded with another moan. Nipping at his bottom lip your fingers slid up to bury in the short hairs at the back of his head tugging lightly. Cobb broke apart from you once again as he shook his head a smirk on his face, "Darlin' if you keep teasing me like that I'm not gonna be able to hold back."

Your eyelashes fluttered as you smiled, "Well Marshal, I did have you close that door for a reason."

His breath hitched at both you calling him by his title and your admission but as you headed in for another kiss he pulled back slightly, "I need to hear you say it darlin', do you want me to fuck you?"

Your lips parted at his words and you nodded, "Yes. Cobb I want you to fuck me, please."

A positively devious smirk covered his face as he grasped your chin lightly, "That's Marshal to you sweetheart."

Your moan was wild and uncontained at Cobb's dominant words and as he captured your lips once more his hands were working at your pants. As he undid your belt and tugged down the zipper you lifted your hips enough that he could pull the pants and underwear off your legs. His bare fingers met your slick pussy, slipping into your folds easily. Pulling back Cobb groaned, "All this just for me darlin'?"

You gasped as a finger sunk into your drenched cunt and started pumping slowly, "It's all for you Marshal, just for you."

Head flying back as another finger sunk into your folds you keened as his pace sped up burying his fingers deep within you, stretching and teasing while your hips bucked. You leaned back, arms supporting you, as your legs spread for him granting easier access to where you so desperately craved contact. Your wetness gleamed in the light of the cantina and a deep growl left Cobb's chest as he hissed out, "You look absolutely delicious sweetheart and I promise you I'll taste you sometime soon but right now darlin'? Right now, I need to be inside this tight little cunt."

When his fingers pulled from your depths you whined in disappointment but as his fingers fumbled and tore at his clothing in order to pull his aching cock out your whine morohed into an eager moan. One of his hands landed on your hip again, steadying you against the counter, as his other hand guided his dick slowly through your folds. You cried out as his tip prodded at your clit while your cunt soaked him in your fluids and your walls fluttered when he lined himself up at your entrance. Biting your lip your gaze slid up to meet his brown eyes, shining with want and need, "Are you ready for me?"

His tone was gentle and sweet, something that had your walls fluttering as you nodded to him simpering out, "Yes, Marshal."

Slowly he pushed his hips forward, spearing you onto his length and sliding into your depths. A whimper flew from your throat as your walls clenched around him despite such little stimulation, the feeling of him filling you completely had you struck dumb at just how deep his cock reached. As he settled, hips pressed together, his hand slid up your body to stroke your face softly and he waited for your indication that he could move. When it became too much to bear you nodded at him whispering out a soft plea for him to move, to fuck you. He obliged and his pace started slow, his cock dragging in and out against your walls. Your eyelids drooped as you watched his hips and cock slide back and forth, coming out a little wetter each time. Breathing hitching you gasped out, "More, please I need more Marshal!"

Cobb's hands grasped your waist as his hips sped up, a slapping noise filling the air on each thrust, his cock pressing deeper and deeper into you. Your mouth fell open as he hit something inside of you that had you moaning, a pleased grunt left his throat at your pleasure and he endeavored to hit that same little spot over and over again. You swore as your head fell back unable to deal with the combination of watching his length disappear into you and the bliss you were feeling. Cobb sped up as he hissed out, "Fuck darlin' I'm not gonna last very long in this perfect pussy."

A hand left your hip as his fingers sought out your clit and once he did he was rubbing and circling it like he had known your body for years, finding the perfect patterns that had your legs tensing as your orgasm approached. You whimpered out his name as your walls clenched around him and he nodded, pressing even deeper in you to lean over your body to reach your lips.

Mouths collided in a swirl of tongues and teeth as you desperately chased your release, he pulled away from you to nip and bite at your neck. As he hit your sweet spot a particularly deep thrust swept you over the edge, his teeth clamping down on your neck as your walls tightened around his length. You practically screamed out his name as you came, pleasure from all the different stimuli - his cock, his fingers, his mouth - overwhelmed your senses and you drowned in him. You whined as your whole body tensed, Cobb's cock still pumping into your steadily as he worked you through your orgasm, pussy clenching and clinging to him. For a brief moment your vision went white as his fingers continued to swirl around your clit, when you gasped out his name he lightened the pressure eventually pulling his fingers away completely. Gasping and panting as you came down you became vaguely aware of his other hand stroking your cheek softly and a voice cooing, "That's it sweet girl, so good for me."

Trembling you leaned your head into his hand and shot him a sweet smile. Cobb's pace sped up again as you recovered, chasing his own release. You were sure you looked a mess but the Marshal stared down at you like you were the most beautiful thing he had ever seen, lips parted and eyes hazy from your height of pleasure. It wasn't long before Cobb was grunting and panting out, "Where do you want me to cum sweetheart?"

Your cunt clenched at his words and a soft whimper flew from your lips, "Fuck, inside, I'm safe. Please fill me up Marshal, I wanna feel you inside me for the rest of the day."

That pushed Cobb over the edge as he whined out your name, hips stuttering. His cum painted your walls, doing as you asked and filling you up. You sat up straighter as he slowly pumped into you, steadying yourself with one hand and the other hand grasping the back of his neck. Pulling him into a sensual kiss you rolled your hips lightly helping him ride out his orgasm like he helped you. When you finally let your hips settle you broke apart, keeping your forehead lightly pressed to his.

Cobb laughed lightly as you both sat there for a moment recovering, after a second he pressed a chaste kiss to your lips before pulling away. You whimpered slightly at the loss before sliding off the counter to re-dress yourself while he did the same. Unable to help yourself you teasingly spoke once again, "So is that how you greet all your new residents Marshal or am I just lucky?"

Another delightful laugh met your ears as Cobb smiled at you before resting his hands on your now clothed hips, "Oh no sweet girl, just you. Only you."

His words sent a thrilled hum through you a grin covered your face, though moments later when the Marshal took off his bandanna you shot him a confused look.

"I left uhm quite a mark on your neck so I think you might need this more than I do right now darlin'." He rumbled as he tied it around your neck and positioning it to cover the hickey on your throat. He cleared his throat after a moment of you two staring at each other, "I hate to leave but I do have a job to be getting to and I believe you are actively working right now."

Your heart sank slightly at his words and as he awkwardly turned to head towards the door you panicked slightly. The words tumbled out of your mouth before you could think anything of them, "I'm off in a few hours and you'll need your bandanna back so maybe you could come by? We could get a drink together?"

Cobb froze and turned back towards you, the slight fear that had been gripping you was completely dissipated by his grin, "Like a date?"

Floundering at his words slightly you stuttered out a few sentence starters ("Well- I- Uhm-") before he spoke again, his words sending your heart soaring, “You got it, darlin’. It's a date. ”

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Five)

Summary: (Y/N) and Mando join forces with Cobb Vanth to kill a krayt dragon, and they attempt to get the townsfolk and the Tuskens to peacefully work together. What could possibly go wrong?

Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Five The Dragon (Previous Chapter)

When she made the decision to join the Mandalorian’s crew and help him fulfill his quest, (Y/N) knew that they’d frequently be encountering dangerous situations. However, she didn’t foresee one of them involving her and Mando having to help kill a krayt dragon to protect a settlement in the middle of the Dune Sea. Cobb Vanth, the Marshal of Mos Pelgo, had offered Mando a deal: if they helped him kill the krayt dragon, he’d give them the Mandalorian armor he’d been using for years to protect his people.

“Deal. (Y/N) can ride back to the ship and blow it out of the sand from the sky; we’ll stay and use the bantha as bait.”

Cobb looked away from Mando to shoot her an astounded smirk, to which she responded by raising a brow, daring him to challenge her piloting skills. Silently conceding, the marshal looked back at Mando with a grimace. “Not so simple. The ship passes above, it senses the vibrations and stays underground. But I know where it lives.”

“How far?”

“Not far.”

So, she and Mando had wrangled up the child before getting onto the speeder bike and following Cobb further into the desert. Sensing that the Mandalorian was still agitated about the marshal’s blatant disrespect of his people’s Creed, (Y/N) had allowed him to drive and resigned herself to sitting behind him on the bike. I suppose there’s worse ways to travel, she thought to herself with a faint blush as her arms tightened slightly around her partner’s waist, like on the back of a bantha or dewback.

“You two don’t understand what it was like,” Cobb interjected after about a half an hour of driving. “The town was on its last legs; it started after we got news of the Death Star blowin’ up…the second one, that is.” (Y/N) smiled to herself, a little pleased that someone else had realized just how idiotic the Empire had been to build two of those things, then turned her attention back to the marshal’s tale. “The Empire was blown out of Tatooine and there was blaster fire over Mos Eisley; the occupation was over. We didn’t even have time to celebrate. That very night, the mining collective moved in; power hates a vacuum and Mos Pelgo became a slave camp overnight…”

(Y/N) listened as the marshal detailed his escape from Mos Pelgo, how he’d stolen a camtono of silicax crystals and wandered the desert for days until being rescued by the Jawas. She felt Mando’s body stiffen as Cobb explained that he’d traded the crystals for the Mandalorian armor and returned to the town, ridding it of its enslavers and establishing himself as its marshal. Based on what he’d told them, (Y/N) decided that he was an honorable man just doing everything to keep his people safe; however, she knew that the silent Mandalorian sitting in front of her would take more time to win over.

That’s what Cobb Vanth must’ve thought as well; once he’d finished his story, he turned his attention to her instead of Mando. “So, what’s your story? How’d a smuggler end up workin’ with a Mandalorian?”

“How’d you know-?”

“Livin’ on Tatooine, I’ve met my fair share of hot-shot pilots.” His mouth stretched into a lopsided grin. “None as pretty as you, though.”

Feeling her face warm at his flirtatious tone, (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile back. “Well, Mando here asked me to join his crew after seeing my piloting skills firsthand. And I’m actually a former smuggler; I worked for the Rebellion but I retired from that life just after the New Republic was established.”

The two speeder bikes had just reached a rocky canyon and they reduced their speed in the narrowing ravine. It was then that Cobb glanced over at her with a raised brow. “I didn’t know they had smugglers workin’ in the Rebellion. What’d you smuggle for ‘em?”

(Y/N) hesitated for a moment, acutely aware that there was more than one person waiting to hear her reply. “I, um-”

Cobb signaled for them to halt right when a loud growling noise began echoing through the canyon; both speeder bikes came to a stop and all three took cover behind them as they drew their weapons. Not knowing what to expect, (Y/N) pulled the plaster rifle off her back and propped it up alongside Mando’s pulse rifle on the top of their speeder, furrowing her brow when the howling grew louder. Moments later, a massiff emerged from behind an outcropping of rock and was soon joined by several others. Instead of firing, Mando lowered his pulse rifle and let out a familiar-sounding growl of his own before walking around the bike and towards the creatures.

“What the hell’s he doin’?” Cobb whispered loudly, his look of surprise growing when (Y/N) got up from her crouch and slung her rifle back onto her shoulders. “What the-?”

She and Mando both raised a hand to calm the marshal down, and (Y/N) watched with an impressed smile as her partner knelt down and began petting the now-happy massiff. I guess Mando’s got a way with pets, she thought to herself, her smile widening when she noticed several Tuskens emerge from behind the rocks. (Y/N) had enjoyed sharing camp with the Tuskens the night before; they’d been pleasant hosts, and she’d truly loved learning more about their culture while teaching them a little of her own.

(Y/N) glanced over at Cobb while Mando conversed with the Tuskens, her smile faltering a little as she took in his hardened expression; and when Mando informed them that the Tuskens also wanted to kill the krayt dragon, a feeling of foreboding settled in the pit of her stomach.

As night was beginning to fall, the Tuskens led the three of them to their settlement and allowed them to stay in two of their tents. (Y/N) thanked them for their hospitality using the hand gestures she’d picked up from Mando, pleased that she was still able to remember them but before she could make her way over to the Tusken’s campfire, Mando stopped her.

“Word travels fast on the Dune Sea; they already know about your peaceful encounter with the other clan of Tuskens yesterday. It’s Vanth who needs to earn their trust tonight.” Mando explained, his voice becoming a little gruffer when he mentioned the marshal’s name before quietly continuing. “Why don’t you and the child get some rest, alor’ad? I know it’s early but we’ll be traveling to the lair at first light and you’ll need your strength if you’re gonna help us kill a krayt dragon…”

(Y/N) relented, taking the child from Mando and crouching into their tent as she stifled tired yawns behind her hand; settling down in her bedroll, she drifted in and out of sleep, glancing over where the child was soundly sleeping every once in a while to see if he was all right. The little guy must be growing on you, she thought with a small smile, closing her eyes and rolling over to face the tent entrance.

A sudden sound caused (Y/N)’s eyes to snap open and in an instant, her blaster was in her hand and pointed directly at the Mandalorian’s head; realizing it was only her partner, she lowered her blaster with widened eyes. “Oh! I’m so sorry, Mando, I thought that-!”

“It’s okay, you shouldn’t apologize for having a quick reflex.” Mando replied, entering the tent and sitting down on top of his bedroll. “It’s good that you’re up; the Tuskens are going to take us to the lair tomorrow, but they’re insisting we travel in a small number and only scout the area. Will you be all right staying here with the kid while we go?”

She smiled, tucking her blaster back under her pillow. “Sure, that sounds okay. I guess that means you’ll be traveling with Vanth by yourself, huh?”

Nodding, Mando glanced over at the sleeping child before looking back at her. “I don’t trust him. He picked a fight with the Tuskens earlier, and he was asking a lot of questions about your Rebellion days.”

“Well, he was born and raised on Tatooine; he’s probably been told all his life that the Tuskens are the monsters. And as for the questions…well, most people don’t know that the Rebels recruited smugglers to their cause and then once they learn, they always assume that I was only working with the Alliance for monetary reasons. But I don’t mind.” Shrugging, (Y/N) laid back down on her bedroll, resting her hands on her stomach as she stared up at the ceiling of the tent. “Better to let them assume than to re-open any old wounds by explaining. Does that make any sense?”

The Mandalorian was silent for a moment and when he answered, his voice sounded softer than usual. “Yeah…yeah, it does.”

“So, um, what’s the story with the little guy?” (Y/N) asked, eager to change the subject but also curious about the child’s background. “When you say we’re returning him to his kind, do you mean his species or maybe his family…?”

She heard Mando lay down on his own bedroll. “The child is…special. He has many abilities, and he belongs with a race of sorcerers called Jedi.”

“Jedi?” (Y/N)’s sleepy eyes widened and she rolled over to look at the Mandalorian. “I thought that they were just myths!”

“You’ve heard of the Jedi before?”

“My mother used to tell me stories about them when I was a child on Naboo, but I didn’t…” She trailed off, feeling his gaze from behind the visor of his helmet. “I always thought they were fairytales.”

Mando nodded eagerly. “Do you remember anything about your mother’s stories? Anything at all?”

“All I remember is that the Jedi were supposed to have been the guardians of the peace but if that were true, then the Empire never would’ve happened.” (Y/N) snorted, laying back down and frowning a little as she sensed her partner’s disappointment. “That doesn’t really help us, though.”

“Well, it’s one thing I didn’t know before, so I’d say it was a little helpful.” The Mandalorian offered. “We should get some rest; we’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow…”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day, it quickly became apparent that they were in for more than what they’d originally bargained for. (Y/N) stayed at the Tusken settlement with the child while Mando, Cobb and a handful of Tuskens traveled by bantha the short distance to the krayt dragon’s lair. To pass the time, she’d mended some of their clothing and cleaned her borrowed blaster rifle, knowing that she would soon be needing it.

When the others returned, Mando explained their plan to recruit the villagers of Mos Pelgo to aid in the attack against the creature before they headed back to the town. (Y/N) hadn’t said anything out loud, but she was wary of their new plan; it essentially hinged on the ability of two warring peoples to set aside their differences in order to defeat a common enemy, and while (Y/N) had no problem working alongside the Tuskens, she knew that the villagers would have a very different opinion than her. Now I definitely have a bad feeling about all this, she thought as she parked the speeder alongside Cobb’s in front of the cantina.

“They attacked us less than a year ago, killed half a dozen of us by the mining camp. I’d say I took down about twice as many Tuskens.” Cobb got up from his speeder, a fresh look of guilt on his face.

“The town respects you.” Mando pointed out as (Y/N) hopped off their speeder and dusted off her clothes. “My guess is they’ll listen to reason.”

(Y/N) nodded and offered the marshal a brief smile. “If the Tuskens are willing to put the past aside, then I don’t see why your people can’t find it within themselves to do the same.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure.”

A doubtful-looking Cobb quickly gathered the town into the cantina and it went about as well as she’d feared it would; after explaining the entire situation to the villagers they reluctantly agreed to the deal the Tuskens had offered, that in exchange for their help and the carcass of the creature, they would unite with them in battle and never attack Mos Pelgo until a villager breaks the peace. Tension filled the air as the Tuskens arrived to help with the preparations and it went fairly quickly, save for one brief moment of unrest between a Tusken and a villager. But in no time, they were slowly on their way to the krayt dragon’s lair with the villagers and explosives in tow.

With the suns high in the sky, (Y/N) stood between Mando and Cobb as they carefully watched a lone Tusken make his way to the large cave entrance and place his hands on the ground before it; after several terse moments, the Tusken straightened and signed a message with his hands.

“What did he say?” (Y/N) quietly asked, the hand holding the blaster rifle’s strap tightening with anticipation.

“He says it’s sleeping. If we listen carefully, we can hear it breathing.”

(Y/N) glanced over at Cobb beside her, shrugging and watching as another Tusken offered him a familiar-looking green object; she gave the marshal an expectant smile that widened when he lifted the object and drank the sour liquid, finally accepting the Tusken’s gesture of peace and good faith.

After receiving their instructions from the Mandalorian, they got to work as quietly as they could. (Y/N) removed her cowl before grabbing a shovel and helping the others dig the shallow hole that they’d bury the explosives in; the muscles in her arms were aching in protest by the time the hole was finished, but she hid her pain as she walked up to Mando and Cobb with a smile.

“Ready when you are, fellas.”

Mando nodded and moved forward to watch the Tuskens approach the mouth of the cave, leaving Cobb to walk alongside her as he flashed her a lopsided grin. “How ‘bout a kiss for luck from a pretty lady?”

(Y/N) only rolled her eyes and raised a brow in amusement at his flirting attempt. “How about we focus on killing a krayt dragon and not dying instead, Marshal?”

“Worth a shot.” Cobb shrugged as they stood alongside Mando on the rocky ridge overlooking the villagers and Tuskens. They watched as three Tuskens slowly made their way to the cave and stopped, hesitating a brief moment before loudly calling out; their grunts and growls echoed throughout the rocky canyon and just as they had begun to fade, the growling of a large creature called back. All three Tuskens turned and ran, and the krayt dragon burst out of the cave in an explosion of sand; its roar shook the ground, and (Y/N)’s jaw nearly dropped when she realized just how massive the creature was.

Beside her, Mando pulled out his scope and all three of them watched the Tuskens and the villagers enact their plan; they fired the harpoons they’d built to pull the creature from its cave, but it quickly became clear that it wasn’t working when the krayt dragon reared its head back and tried tugging itself loose from its captors. “Dank farrik, it’s going back in; it’s retreating.”

Cobb gripped the detonator in his hand, his thumb hovering over the button. “I’m gonna hit it.”

“No, wait. We only have one shot; we’ve gotta get it out.”

Following the others lead, (Y/N) slung the blaster rifle off her shoulder and quickly aimed before firing at the creature, her precise shots joining the blaster bolts and small explosives hitting its thick hide. Their actions enraged the krayt dragon, which charged forward and forced the others to run for cover.

“Now?” Cobb asked, his jaw tightening as he watched his village continue its assault on the creature.

Mando shook his head. “Not yet. It’s gotta come out further.”

But as he spoke, the krayt dragon finally pulled itself free of the harpoons with a deafening roar, throwing Tuskens high into the air before opening its mouth and spewing acid onto a group of retreating Tuskens and villagers.

Both Mando and Cobb stiffened at the sight, and (Y/N) heard herself breathe out, “Oh, Maker.”

The creature continued forward after its attackers, and Mando held up a tense hand. “Almost, almost…now!”

The marshal’s thumb smashed down on the button and the explosives went off, sending a massive cloud of dust up with a blast of air as the creature roared and vanished from view. (Y/N) lowered her blaster to shield her face from the sand-filled wind, looking up as the dust began to settle and frowning when she noticed the empty patch of ground.

“I don’t think it’s dead.”

“Me either.”

(Y/N) merely bit her lip and watched as the Tuskens and villagers looked around in confusion, an unsettling feeling forming in the pit of her stomach. Suddenly, the krayt dragon exploded out of the rocky ridge high above the entrance of the cave with an ear-splitting growl and began spewing more acid onto the panicked crowd below.

Cobb’s face twisted in fury. “It’s pickin’ us off like womp rats.” He suddenly turned and grabbed his blaster rifle off his speeder. “Let’s get after it!”

Mando turned to look at her and she nodded, already knowing exactly what the two of them had in mind; he hurried over and grabbed his pulse rifle, rushing back to her and wrapping his free arm tightly around her waist. He barely gave her enough time to latch onto him before activating his jetpack and shooting up into the air, flying fast towards where the creature was emerging from the rocks. Yeah, I think I prefer flying in an actual ship, (Y/N) barely had time to think, landing roughly beside Mando and Cobb on the side of the ridge and immediately joining them as they fired their weapons at the side of the creature’s head.

“This ain’t doin’ a thing!”

“Yeah, I have to agree with the marshal on this one!” (Y/N) yelled, watching as their shots bounced off its thick hide.

Reloading his pulse rifle, Mando loudly replied, “Just keep shooting!”

The three of them continued firing their weapons and after a few moments, the krayt dragon seemed to finally notice their presence; it let out another roar and moved its head towards them, but the Mandalorian grabbed her around the waist again and they flew out of the way just as it bit down on the rocky ridge. They flew down to the ground in front of the cave entrance and spun around, their weapons at the ready, but the creature had disappeared once again.

“Dank farrik…” (Y/N) murmured under her breath, her grip on her blaster rifle tightening as she waited for the krayt dragon to re-emerge; she didn’t have very long to wait. They quickly turned as the creature appeared from the sand dunes behind them and lunged forward, narrowly missing a cluster of escaping Tuskens and villagers.

“There he is.” Mando spoke under his breath, his modulated voice steady despite the dire situation. He glanced past (Y/N) to Cobb with a nod. “I’ve got an idea. Get it’s attention.”

Without hesitation, the marshal leaned forward and activated the missile strapped to his back; it hit the creature with a fiery explosion, causing it to shriek in anger and change its course, charging through the sand in their direction. “I got its attention! Now what?”

“You still have that detonator?”

Cobb unclipped it from his belt and reached past (Y/N) to hand it over. “Take it!”

“Wait, what’s the plan, Mando?” (Y/N) frowned, trying in vain to piece together what her partner was planning on doing.

Mando turned his head to look at her. “You’re gonna take care of the child.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know but wish me luck!” Before (Y/N) could realize what was happening, Mando pushed her into Cobb’s arms and as she instinctively brought her arms up around the marshal’s shoulders, he slammed the butt of his pulse rifle into his jetpack and they shot high up into the air. Clutching tightly to Cobb as they zigzagged through the sky, (Y/N) had just enough time to glance over and see the krayt dragon swallow Mando and a bantha whole before they landed hard on the ground.

Quickly sitting up, (Y/N) stared at the spot the Mandalorian had been with her jaw dropped in horror. She couldn’t move or speak and beside her, Cobb ripped off his helmet to reveal an equally-stunned face; before either of them could say anything, the ground began to rumble beneath them once again. (Y/N) grabbed her blaster rifle just as the krayt dragon re-emerged from the ground, its jaw widening to release a mighty roar, but just as she was preparing to fire on it, a familiar beskar-clad figure flew out of its mouth and was followed by the electric-blue shockwaves of a pulse rifle.

“That son of a mud-scuffer…” (Y/N) breathed out, watching through her rifle’s scope in amazement as the Mandalorian pressed down on the detonator and set off the explosives within the creature. With one last ear-splitting scream, the krayt dragon collapsed to the ground in a cloud of sand and dust, finally defeated.

She and Cobb shielded their faces as a strong gust of wind blasted them, looking up in time to watch Mando land on the ground in front of the creature’s carcass. (Y/N) glanced over at the marshal and they shared a disbelieving grin, clambering to their feet while the cheers of Tuskens and villagers filled the air.

(Y/N)’s leg twinged in protest when she stood but she ignored the pain as she and Cobb hurried over to where Mando stood; his armor was dripping with the creature’s green stomach acid and his chest was heaving with labored breaths, but to her he looked incredible.

“You’ve gotta be the craziest kriffing man I’ve ever met!” (Y/N) exclaimed, looking over her partner for any serious signs of injury and grinning when he merely shrugged his shoulders. “Keep pulling stunts like that and you might just change my low opinion of ex-bounty hunters.”

Mando chuckled between breaths, the sound causing her heart to warm in her chest. “I’ll keep that in mind, alor’ad.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading!

Mando'a Translations: Alor'ad-Captain

Chapter Six

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty​ @sinon36​ @seninjakitey​ @thatonedindjarinfan​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @mostclevermiss​ @momc95​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @zukoyonce​ @itsnottilly​

[sunflashh]

I posted 287 times in 2021

31 posts created (11%)

256 posts reblogged (89%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 8.3 posts.

I added 145 tags in 2021

#clan of two - 29 posts

#bobadin - 25 posts

#dincobb - 21 posts

#the mandalorian - 17 posts

#din djarin - 12 posts

#boba fett - 12 posts

#grogu - 11 posts

#cobb vanth - 6 posts

#the petty duo - 6 posts

#mandomera - 6 posts

Longest Tag: 90 characters

#and was just raised by other mandos as a group rather than having a parental figure or two

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

“Well one of you needs to knock it off before I put you in the trunk with Boba!”

(Omera and Din/Grogu are behind Fennec and Ahsoka)

102 notes • Posted 2021-02-14 04:59:47 GMT

#4

I love how dincobb shippers unanimously decided that Cobb most definitely calls Din " Darlin' "

112 notes • Posted 2021-03-09 05:18:00 GMT

#3

I’ve been creating a whole AU where everyone are kids set in a modern AU (aliens are still aliens tho). Not featured in the doodles above but are in the AU: Ahsoka (15) and Luke (6). Currently writing a one shot where a very tired Jango is the Only One who notices smth is off about Din and Grogu, and this leads to him finding out they’re runaways and he has to adopt them both now 🤷‍♀️

165 notes • Posted 2021-02-08 08:37:28 GMT

#2

Y'all, please consider BobaCobb, and the two of them fighting like an old married couple.

Cobb, who's had to fight for his own freedom as well as his town, wants Crime Lord Boba stay tf away from his town. Boba, however, can never seem to leave him tf alone. He butts in when he's not wanted, and Cobb tells him off every time because he doesn't need Boba's help for shit.

At first Cobb was super respectful because holy shit this man and his right hand assassin could demolish his town, but he gradually loses his fear of Boba and isn't afraid to snap at him. Boba finds it all amusing. Its also in his best interest that this mining town isn't taken over by a rival, hence his "meddling."

They team up at times to deal with a mutual problem, and to Cobb's dismay, they have flawless teamwork and Boba is great to work with. Perhaps they would've been friends if it weren't for the whole crime lord thing.

They exclusively call each other by their last names, but ofc one of them is gonna get hurt and drop to the floor and the other is gonna shout out their first name for the first time

253 notes • Posted 2021-01-15 12:48:58 GMT

#1

When Boba made the deal for his armor, his protection extended to Din as well, not just the child. This lands with Boba looking out for Din and doing his best to get the man back on his feet. He is surprised to find that he actually wants to help Din instead of acting on obligation. There's a lot of mutual respect between the two of them, and it's fascinating that a Mandalorian seemed to make friends everywhere he went.

Not many people have Boba's respect. Feelings run deeper though he'd try to brush it off. He's protective over Din because of the deal, nothing more. (Which is bullshit because everyone, including Boba, knows that Din is 100% capable of taking care of himself.)

Then it goes deeper. Din is comfortable taking his helmet off around Boba. He's comfortable shedding his armor to allow Boba to treat his injuries. The weight of Din's trust in him doesn't go overlooked.

Boba finds his touch lingering too long. The other man doesn't seem to mind a bit, melting into a gentle touch. How long has it been since Din allowed someone else to touch him? To take care of him? His skin visibly prickles, but he never tells Boba to stop, and always comes back again.

Things get more intimate. Boba has never been a very romantically driven man, but Din is different. There was something special in the way that they softened themselves only for each other. Well, only each other save Din's love for his child.

Boba loves the feeling of Din's hands on him, the way he falls asleep to him gently tracing over the scars on his skin. They don't kiss much, but everyone feels deeply intimate. From a kiss on the temple, "Please don't stay up too late," to the solemn kiss of goodbye as Din leaves once again. Even the stolen little moments where their helmets bonked together in pseudo-kiss all had their impact.

Boba Fett is not a man of many weaknesses and certainly isn't known for having soft spots. Only someone who watched the way the danced around each other, the softened tones in their voice, the clear admiration and respect they held for one another would they be able to pick out that soft spot. Boba is incredibly soft for one man, and God help the fool that tries to exploit it.

421 notes • Posted 2021-01-07 17:42:10 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[theboredwritertm]

Din x Mandalorian!Reader x Cobb Vanth? Say like Din and the reader are partners and they’re both kinda into Cobb and if it’s your thing maybe the reader can be a little bossy?

The Arrangement

A/N: Sorry/not sorry for using that ^ gif - it made me laugh. (No, they don’t technically do anything in front of the kid.) There’s a lot of ways I could have taken this request, but honestly, I’m glad I went with this. (I may or may not have a part two in mind already). Also, I guess I’m just horny on main for this entire episode, since I want to write all my requests around it?? Hope you enjoy, anon! The request was for reader to be bossy – I might have accidentally made them a bit of an asshole, haha. Also, I ignored a lot of things on my to-do list to get this edited and posted today! 

Rating: I’m going to say 18+

Pairing: Din Djarin x Mandalorian!Reader x Cobb Vanth

Warnings: Swearing, partner sharing (cuckolding, I guess), like a bunch of smut at the end. 

Word Count: 7,272  (consider the first 3000 words foreplay)

Summary: You and Din are partners in every sense of the word, loyal to each other in every way, but you have one very simple arrangement: you can fuck anyone who takes your interest, and he gets to watch.

Tags: @justanotherblonde23

***********************************************************

It was like the opening of a bad joke.

Three Mandalorians walk into a bar. One of them is an imposter.

You’d felt Din tense beside you the moment you’d spotted the familiar armor, both noting the casual way it was worn, as if it were merely an accessory to the man beneath it and not a reflection of his religion. This complete separation from the creed was further proven as the man you knew only as ‘The Marshal’ stepped up to one of the tables in the bar, calmly removed his beaten-up beskar helmet, and set it down on the wooden tabletop.  

You’d had to pause for a moment as you took in the face in front of you, all thoughts of backing Din up about the beskar not belonging to this man suddenly far from your mind. He was older than you – older than Din, too, if his greying hair and beard were anything to go by – but there was a youthful kind of mischief to his face, in the way he gazed curiously between the two of you. 

You’d traveled the galaxy and seen a lot of faces in your time, and this certainly wasn’t the first handsome one – but, Maker, if there isn’t something just a little bit tempting about it… 

You turn your head, now, to look at Din. Though he gives no sign of noticing, his visor still directed forward, you knew he’d sensed the movement – understood the intention. His helmet dips almost imperceptibly for a moment, then he turns his head to look back. You grin beneath your visor. It had been a long time, but he still remembered the gesture; a silent approval regarding a long agreed-upon arrangement between the two of you. 

It was simple: you could choose any man who caught your particular interest – though, with a man like Din by your side, you couldn’t say there’d been many – and Din got to watch.

You loved Din, had been by his side for years now, but you’d be lying if you said your first thought at that moment hadn’t involved getting pinned against the wall in some dusty, back-room by the man in front of you and letting him drill you to the point of oblivion.  

The Marshal sits staring between the two of you with a lopsided grin that certainly doesn’t help with your current line of thinking, eyes sparkling with easygoing humor. 

“Never met a real Mandalorian,” he states, as he takes a seat and sets down three cups and a bottle of what you recognize as spotchka. “Now, two walk into my town. What are the odds?” He glances between the two of you as he carefully pours out three equal serves, sliding two of the cups in your direction in what you assume is a peace-offering – or maybe just a show of small-town hospitality. 

“I’d say they’re in your favor,” you reply, your sly smirk clear in your tone, even through the modulator. Din throws you a look for how obvious you’re being, but you can’t say you care. If the man manages to pick up what you’re putting down early on, so be it. It makes things that much easier for you.

The Marshal looks up at you, curiosity clear on his face as he hears your voice for the first time, not expecting you to be a woman. Your armor doesn’t give that away – forged for protection rather than showing off what’s underneath – and even though you are a little smaller in stature compared to the big guy next to you, he wouldn’t have made the assumption. He’d fought all shapes and sizes and knew that size didn’t always denote ability – or gender.

“From what I’ve heard about your kind, I figured at least one of us might not be walking out of here. But now,” he says, gesturing with a nod towards you, since you’ve given yourself away, “Between her and the kid, I’m thinking maybe this isn’t the kind of situation I thought it was gonna be.”

You’re deep in thought about the kind of situation you’re hoping it’s gonna be, when you feel little hands grasping at the back of your leg. You look down. Right. The kid. You’d been so busy picturing every position you’d let this man bend you into, you’d almost forgotten about the little womp rat. 

The Child looks up at you with big eyes and raises his little arms in a gesture you’ve grown familiar with over the past few weeks. Conceding to his demands, you reach down to scoop him up. Not that you and Din were ever particularly careful when it came to sex, but you really hadn’t expected to be thrown into parenthood like this. You doubted a town like this offered much in the way of babysitters, and even if it did you didn’t think Din would trust just any person to watch over the kid; not after everything you’d been through so far to keep him safe. And certainly not just to satisfy whatever devious thoughts were running through your head. 

“You got a name?” you ask, your eyes never leaving the marshal’s – even if he can’t see yours – as you settle the child in your arms. 

“Cobb Vanth,” he replies, and you’re glad to finally have a name to put to the face – something to whisper or cry out when the time calls for it. 

“Where’d you get the armor?” Din asks. 

Right. The armor. You’d completely forgotten about that.

“Bought it off some Jawas,” Cobb replies.

You cringe, knowing that’ll be a sticking point, especially for Din. It’s a mark of disrespect to the beskar, even if Cobb doesn’t know it. But you don’t think it’s enough to break the silent agreement you and Din have made. 

“Hand it over,” Din tells him, and you have to roll your eyes at his attitude. Always straight to the point.

Cobb seems to find something amusing about this. “Look, pal, I’m sure you call the shots where you come from, but ‘round here I’m the one who tells folks what to do.”

Bouncing the kid on your hip, you glance towards Din, wondering what he’s going to do and if that something will ruin your chances of carrying out the wicked ideas currently playing out in your mind. You know he’s got to hate being called ‘pal’ by someone like this – someone who wears the armor without any right to – in the same way you know Cobb is using the term just to stir him up. You glance back and forth between the two of them patiently, waiting to see where this goes.

“Take it off, or I will.”

Now, that’s more like it.

Clearly not how he meant it – at least you don’t think so…but then Din was prone to a darker humor that sometimes went over your head when you weren’t expecting it. Maybe he was fucking with you both.

You find yourself distracted by the way Cobb grins in response, unsure if it’s the way it lights up his attractive features, or if it’s his cocky kind of fearlessness that gets you the most. You didn’t encounter a lot of people who stood up to Din, and most of the ones who did were almost always bluffing, but, staring down a member of an infamous warrior clan, Cobb manages to look quite at ease. 

“Two on one? Doesn’t seem very fair,” he says, adding fuel to the thoughts running through your head. You’re sure you can change his mind on that.

“Maybe we can come to some sort of arrangement.” Your tone is low, words steeped with intention, and the way he looks back at you now says maybe he’s finally caught on. 

He glances between you and Din, trying to work out the dynamic here. You’re standing close – could just be business partners, but he thinks not. There’s something in the way the larger Mandalorian keeps pausing when you talk, as if, even with a baby in your arms, you’re the one who’s really calling the shots. He opens his mouth to give his answer, but before he can tell you the sort of arrangement that he thinks might be suitable, the ground begins to shake beneath you. 

Behind you, at the bar, cups, and saucers chatter and clank together on their shelves. One of the bottles of bright blue liquid shuffles towards the edge of the counter then dives, shattering on the floor below before the bartender can catch it. It’s a shame. Liquid is hard to come by out here.

Cobb stares at you both for a minute, then holds up a single, polite finger to give him a moment. Your gaze trails after him as he heads for the doorway, then you glance back towards the bartender to find they’re making a beeline for the back exit, too. 

You and Din exchange looks. Whatever this is, it looks like any kind of arrangement is going to have to wait.

***

A new arrangement falls into your lap in the form of an enormous, cock-blocking krayt dragon. 

As if driven by some constant compulsion to play ‘defender of the people’, Din agrees to take care of this problem for the town in exchange for Cobb’s armor. Of course, you follow along – you’re not completely heartless to their cause – though you’re not sure you’ve ever had to work this hard for a lay. After all, you’d had a much simpler way in mind for getting the man out of the armor.

Yet, as you travel towards the dragon’s lair, clutching onto Din in a manner you find a little undignified as you ride on the back of his borrowed landspeeder, Cobb begins to tell you some of his history – of how he came to be marshal of Mos Pelgo – and you find yourself growing more intrigued by the man. You’d never usually make the effort to get to know the people involved in your arrangements, knowing you’d probably never have to see them again, and sometimes extra information tended to get in the way of what should have otherwise been a simple one-night stand. You already had Din; you weren’t interested in getting to know someone else on that level. But as the night found the three of you lodging together at a Tusken Raider camp, you found yourself warming up to the man. 

So, now you’re sat around a fire, the three of you on one side, the Child on your lap, and several Tuskens across from you engaged in an odd, barking conversation with Din. You’d traveled enough to understand most of what was being said, but that didn’t mean you weren’t wishing they’d go back to the silent hand gestures they’d been using to converse with earlier in the day – the sounds were just so grating.

An argument eventually erupts over some smelly peace offering, a drink Cobb isn’t familiar with, and you’re amused to find that he’s a bit of a hothead. It’s a nice contrast to Din’s cool, calm nature. In an ironic twist, Din ends the row with a blast from the flamethrower on his arm and you turn the baby away from the heat, unfazed, used to this kind of behavior from your partner by now.

Cobb collapses back into his seat beside you, looking slightly defeated, and catches your quiet chuckle.

“You agree with all this?” he asks you, glancing between Din and the Tuskens in an irritated kind of disbelief. You both watch as Din moves to sit closer to the tribesmen to continue their strategizing. As far as you’re concerned, since this little endeavor is Din’s idea, you have no qualms letting him do most of the work. Cobb, on the other hand, used to being the one running things, seems mighty put-out.

“Me? I go where he goes.”

“Doesn’t seem that way to me.”

You look back at him and find his handsome face turned back towards you, looking like he’s trying to take in what he can’t see beneath your helmet. You smile. “No?” 

He shakes his head, looking amused. “Sometimes I get the feelin’ you’re the one in charge.”

You think of how best to phrase that, as two idiots in love, you and Din are prone to following one another into idiotic situations, but settle instead for trying your luck with something different.

“He’s got a habit of volunteering us for things. Personally, I had an easier way in mind for getting you out of that armor.”

You watch his face carefully, at least as much as you can make out in the flickering light of the fire. He seems to pause and take this in, not at all expecting it, then takes on a curious expression.

“Am I readin’ this wrong? I thought you two were together.”

“We are.”

He stares at you again and only looks more confused. But you can’t say he doesn’t look interested. It’s like he’s weighing up a few things.

“Well, forgive me for sayin’ so, but I am not about to risk gettin’ my junk blown off for manhandling some Mandalorian’s girl.”

This time you laugh a little louder, pleased to hear that he’s at least imagined it in enough depth that his intended actions might warrant that kind of reaction. Din looks over at the two of you for a moment before returning to his own conversation. 

“What’s so funny?” Cobb asks, smiling at you.

“That you think he’d have a say in that,” you reply. You watch him for a moment, finding this one of the few times you’re wishing you could take off your helmet and be properly face-to-face with someone. There was a lot you wanted to say to him, and not a lot of it could be said using words. 

“If it helps,” you add, “He’s cool with it. We have an agreement.”

Cobb’s staring at you, eyes bright with interest below a shock of salt-and-pepper hair, thinking a few things over. This isn’t a situation that he’s encountered before. Flirtatious women, sure; but none who seemed pretty attached to the man they were already with. He hadn’t even seen your face yet – but he’ll admit, that kind of adds to the thrill. 

“So, what, we do this right here, right now?” he half-jokes, glancing back at the surrounding tents as if the Tuskens might be so hospitable. He waits for your response, because in all honesty, he’d be up for it if you were.

“I figure we take care of the giant monster eating your townsfolk, first. Then, assuming at least two of us make it back alive, we see what happens.”

He chuckles.

“Sounds like a deal to me.”

***

It goes surprisingly well, aside from a very stupid stunt on Din’s behalf; one you’re quick to pull him up on, because for a split moment all thoughts of Cobb had evaporated from your mind at the very real prospect of losing him. 

There are still losses on both sides, of course – for the Tuskens and the Mos Pelgons. The krayt dragon had lost entirely. 

A celebration takes place in the bar that night, back in Mos Pelgo, and you imagine the Tuskens are having a little party of their own back at their camp, with enough meat now to feed their entire clan for weeks to come. 

Cobb’s sitting on his own, watching his happy townspeople with a smile, a bottle of spotchka in hand. He pours himself another cup - his third one. He’s waiting, now. Assuming you hadn’t been leading him on the entire time. You and your Mandalorian had disappeared not long after everyone had arrived back. Maybe it had all been a lie – some twisted game of foreplay the two of you had going on that you had never intended for him to be a part of. He’ll admit that handing over his armor back at the den of the dead dragon might not have been a smart play. He kind of preferred your idea for the handover. He sighs and takes a long sip of his drink. 

Oh well. 

He takes a moment to look around the room, remembering the last time they’d had such a joyful celebration – at least the first half of that night, back when the Empire had finally fallen, given how it had eventually ended. As he continues to look around, a flash of steel catches his attention towards the very back of the room. 

There you are, standing in the doorway. 

He wonders how long you’ve been there; if you’ve been watching him, and how the hell he hasn’t noticed. He’s not sure how he feels about that. Despite spending the past few days with you both, he’ll admit he’s still a bit intimidated. Especially by you. Still, when you beckon with a single jerk of your gloved index finger, he finds himself already on his feet.

Oh. Well.

He throws back the last of his drink, thinking that tonight he’s probably going to need it. 

***

You lead him up a flight of stairs in the back to a room that sits above the bar; a room where only moments earlier you’d set the final boundaries for the night with Din. 

Although you’ve done this a few times before, it’s still important that you remain on the same page. Most of his rules hadn’t changed from previous occasions: no sleeping with the outsider (actual sleeping, that is – it was a form of intimacy he drew the line at), no cumming inside of you (that was for him, and him only), and you were to always remain in control of the situation. 

There had been one unfortunate incident where the guest for the evening had proven a little too rough with you. The moment the dynamic had flipped, Din had left his seat at the sidelines and preceded to drag the guy – who had still been completely naked at the time – out into the darkened streets. You didn’t know what had happened after that and hadn’t bothered to ask.

You didn’t think you were going to have the same issue with the marshal. There was a gentleness about him that perfectly balanced with his cocksure attitude. He seemed respectful. A good man, just like Din. Maybe that’s what had attracted you to him in the first place – how the dirty could balance just right with the sweet.  

He follows behind you looking a little wary, but after everything you’d been through together in the last forty-eight hours, he didn’t see any reason not to trust you. Or maybe that was his dick talking. It had been a while for him. Most of the women in the town were married, and for those that weren’t, he was friends with most of their fathers – practically old enough to be their father. It wasn’t a situation he wanted to get himself into, especially not in such a small town. And Mos Pelgo didn’t exactly get a lot of visitors these days. He’d take his chances with you.

When he enters the room, he sees the other Mandalorian seated on a chair against the wall, facing the bed; completely still, hands resting on his beskar-covered thighs, waiting. 

“You know, I realized I haven’t even seen you, yet,” Cobb says to break some of the tension, turning back towards you as you hit the button for the door – tension only he seems to be feeling, apparently. You both seem oddly at ease. 

“And you won’t get to.” Your voice, though slightly distorted by the helmet, still manages to sound alluring. It almost manages to take some of the edge off your vaguely threatening undertone.

“Not even a peek?” he teases, but he knows enough about your people to understand what he’s getting himself into. “How’s that gonna work?” His eyes glide over your full form for the first time truly taking in your body. Admittedly, he’s looking for any unfamiliar lumps and bumps, but from what he knows Mandalorians are usually humanoid. He watches as you take out a long strip of cloth from one of your pockets.

“One rule for tonight. The blindfold stays on.”

“That’s it?” Cobb asks. He can do that. Hell, it wouldn’t be the first time, though at least he’d gotten to see that person’s face first.

You glance over at Din, catching the barely perceptible way he cocks his helmet, then add, “There are other rules, but for now those can wait. This is the most important.” You turn back to Cobb. “No living person can see us without our armor. This is The Way.”

“Huh,” he replies, thoughtfully, catching your choice of words. “After everything we’ve been through, you’re still threatening me?”

“It’s not a threat,” you say, and the gruffness added by your modulator does no favors in convincing him of this. He lets you secure the strip of fabric firmly across his eyes, then almost immediately after hears the hiss of your helmet being removed. Then your voice, clearer this time, hot breath against his ear: “It’s a guarantee.” 

He wonders if it’s possible to be terrified and turned on at the same time.

You barely pause to let this sink in before you’re pressing a mixture of kisses and bites down his neck. Though you’d lived a long time wearing the armor, letting it become like a second skin, you couldn’t deny the added pleasure of the cool, fresh air against your face once it was off. Then there was the added sensory layer of scent and taste. After spending hours with your head inside the confines of your helmet, breathing filtered air, you always found your senses heightened once you were finally exposed.

Cobb smells of sand and sweat, and as you trail a few light, teasing kisses along the lower line of his jaw, his beard bristling against your soft lips, you pick up the sweet-and-sour scent of spotchka on his breath. He turns his head in the direction of the armor seated opposite the bed, having momentarily forgotten about your one-man audience, giving you a much better angle of his neck in the process. As you continue working your mouth over him, he keeps his ears pricked for any sound of movement, feeling suddenly vulnerable in more ways than one.

“You sure he’s in there?” he half-jokes, voice breathy as you continue to lap at his sensitive skin. He could have sworn the armor hadn’t moved since you’d arrived.

“He’s in there. Let’s see what kind of show we can put on, and maybe he can prove it.”

You have his full attention now.

Completely blind, he fumbles to help you out of your armor, fingers finding straps to undo as he feels your hurried movements assisting him. There’s a number of clanks as heavy plates fall to the floor, and he takes a moment to run his fingers over you, feeling the cloth of your tunic still separating his fingertips from the warmth of your skin. It has to come off. He tugs at it, signaling this, and you happily comply. Once you kick your pants and boots off, you stand before him, confident and completely naked, a smirk tugging at your lips as you work out what you want to do with him first.

Din drinks in the sight of your bare figure. It still feels like a rare occasion when he gets a full view like this – so used to the dim lights of the Crest, since it’s one of the few places you both feel comfortable removing your armor – but even those opportunities have become rare now that you had the Child to worry about. It was a blessing that you’d managed to get the little womp rat to sleep in the adjoining room, but then Din wasn’t surprised – despite your ability to come off tough and uncaring, you were better with the kid than he had ever been. If there was one thing the Child might inherit from him, it’s a deep adoration for you.

Even from this seated distance, he can see how smooth your skin looks, his thoughts triggering a kind of muscle memory in his fingertips as he recalls all the times he’s run them across it. He’s almost tempted to call this whole thing off and take you for himself, leaning forward ever-so-slightly, hands braced against the arms of the chair, then Cobb starts to run his hands down along your curves and he catches the way you glance back at him. He’s always caught off guard by your beauty when he’s lucky enough to see you without the helmet, forgetting just how much he’s missing out on when you wear it. As a smile slants across your face in his direction, he settles back into his seat, heart thudding in his chest. He’ll happily let you enjoy this, if only to have you look at him like that forever.

Cobb’s adjusting to compensate for the sense he’s had taken from him, guiding his fingers slowly over your body as he tries to picture how you must look. He starts with your shoulders and you remain completely still across from him, waiting patiently for him to take you in with the only method he’s got left. He feels you shiver as he brushes his fingernails over your neck, then he reaches up for your hair. It’s longer than he’s expecting, given you have to wear it under a helmet all day, but silky and soft. He spends a moment running his fingers through it and you take the opportunity to close the gap between the two of you, grasping the back of his neck to encourage him down to your shorter level so you can press your mouth to his. The kiss becomes heated and has you backing him towards the bed. 

Pausing for a moment, voice breathless, you say, “You’re still dressed.” He grins and takes the hint. You watch as the layers of red are stripped off, then step in to help him with his belt, your mouths less than an inch apart, breath ghosting over each other’s lips as you watch his face for little reactions. Then he dips his head forward to find your lips again, both of you forgetting about his clothes for a moment as you become engrossed in the simple pleasure of the kiss. You feel him smile against your lips as your hands find his belt buckle once more, your fingers making quick, eager work of it. You pull back once it’s undone and let him take care of the rest, your gaze dropping down at the same moment his pants do to catch sight of what you’ll be working with. You’re happy with what you see. There was something to be said about a cocksure man with something to back it up.

Cobb resumes exploring your body as his fingers drift downwards this time; down your arms, briefly stopping to cup your breasts, smiling to himself when he rubs the pads of his thumbs across your hardened nipples and hears you sigh, then down along your sides, finally reaching your hips. His fingers dig in for a moment as he draws you in closer to his warm body, then in one swift movement, he scoops you up under your ass. You wrap your legs around him instinctively to keep you both steady and find yourself rewarded as his hot, hardened member unintentionally brushes against your folds. He has to stop for a moment when he feels how wet you already are, reminding himself he wants to take his time, despite the sudden urge to slide into you. He presses a couple more kisses to your cheek and neck, whatever skin he finds he can reach in this position, then carefully drops you down onto the sheets. They’re cool and refreshing after your long day in the desert heat, but you’d worked hard to set the room just right for your evening, sourcing these little luxuries in the short time you had after the fight with the dragon. 

You lay back so your head’s pointing towards the foot of the bed, towards Din, where you can easily look back at your man. You do so now and feel the heat of his gaze even through his visor. You glance down at his hands, which still rest on the arms of the chair, and see his fingers clutching tightly at the wood. 

Cobb feels his way up onto the bed, using the headboard to steady himself, looking to where he thinks you’ve landed, getting a feel for your position. He feels off-balance without his sight to help him. You’re still busy watching Din when a hand finds your thigh, and your attention is torn back to the marshal as he drops forward, caging your body with his arms. He presses warm, ticklish kisses down your belly, his close-cut beard scratching at your sensitive skin, using the intimate gesture to help guide him down to his intended destination. He ruts his throbbing erection against your thigh to help give him some relief, but that only seems to make it worse. Managing an impressive level of self-control, he shuffles back to give himself more room, then continues using his lips to map out your body. He starts at one of your knees, kissing his way down your thigh, catching the heavenly scent of your arousal as he nears your core. His face hovers above it, feeling the heat radiating off it like a sand dune at the end of a long, hot day, then he licks a stripe where your thigh meets your crotch, dangerously close you where you want him. Your hips rise ever-so-slightly off the bed to try and meet him, but he backs off, blowing cool air against you to tease. You reach down to run your fingers through his hair, urging him closer to you, and hear him emit a soft growl in response. 

When his mouth finally finds your center, you both moan – his sending vibrations that rattle your already-buzzing nerve-endings, yours a little higher pitched as you find a craving finally satisfied. You’d been thinking about this since your first run-in on the day you’d arrived in Mos Pelgo, and the relief it brings to your needy body is better than you could imagine. Still, as his tongue continues to work you up, your pussy clenches with the need for something to be inside of you – a finger, a cock, at this point you don’t care – and you wonder how long he’s planning to take before he finally fucks you.

He starts slow, his tongue pointed and direct as it traces circles and lines over your clit, then the more he relaxes, the sloppier his movements become. You much prefer it that way. The sounds soon coming from between your thighs – a combination of wet slurps and his delighted groans – are as lewd as they are divine, and you’re already fast approaching your first orgasm. As he continues to fuck his tongue into you, your hips bucking mercilessly against his face, fingers twisted in his hair, he hears you mutter something. It sounds almost like a chant. Words he can’t make out. Another language.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. Ner cyar’ika.”

Din’s currently entranced by the way your body is moving, his gaze firmly directed at the man between your legs as your cries and whimpers reach his ears like a favorite symphony; his hips grinding in tiny movements against the chair in an attempt to get some relief. Then he catches the familiar words spilling from your lips. He stills. They’re words you had only ever said to him, and for a moment he thinks they’re being wasted on the marshal. Then he looks at your face, sees your neck curved back, and realizes all this praise is being directed at him. His heart swells – along with certain other body parts – to have you still be thinking about him while your pleasure is at the complete mercy of another man. He thinks he’s never loved you more than at this moment, just to know that you’re his. It takes every ounce of willpower he has left to remain seated. 

The first shockwave of pleasure hits you harder than you’re expecting and the cry that rips from your throat, as if pulled from your very core, is so loud you wonder if the whole damn bar can hear you downstairs. As you ride through your waves of pleasure, your cries the only relief from the full-body torture, you think you probably don’t care. Let them hear. It’s a time for celebration, after all, and who’s to deny you yours.

By this time, Cobb’s slipped a couple of fingers inside of you, working you towards your second orgasm already, and you brace your body for the impending over-stimulation. Once his lips and tongue join in, you find it doesn’t take long; his deft fingers somehow managing to hit just the right spot as he presses a kiss to your thigh and curls his fingertips upwards. He keeps his fingers moving even as your whole body tenses up, your back arching off the bed, his tongue lapping at your clit as your mind goes blank. When you finally look back down at him to see a teasing smirk plastered on his face, along with the sheen of your juices, you know you can’t wait any longer. You push yourself up and take him by the shoulders, using the strength of your toned legs to flip him onto his back so you’re on top. He’s not expecting the sudden maneuver and releases an ‘oof’ then a soft chuckle. 

“Sick of that already, darlin’?” he asks, face still wet and shining as he grins beneath you. Even with half of his face covered by the blindfold, he’s still a handsome motherfucker.

You smile back and trace a couple of fingers down his cheek, managing to gather up some of your slick as you go. Looking over at Din, you lift your fingers to your mouth and lick the residue off of them, grinning when you hear the strained growl that rasps through his modulator. It was always a roll of the dice whether or not he would fuck you after you’ve been with someone else, but that sound was all you needed to hear to know that you probably wouldn’t be making it back to the ship that night.

You turn your attention back to Cobb, finally responding, “I could do that all night, mesh’la, but if I don’t get you inside of me soon, my partner’s going to have to step in, and I don’t want you feeling left out.”

He hums, pleased by how forward you are, and grasps your hips to direct you over him. His grip loosens when you push a hand down on his chest, forcing him back into some semblance of submission, then he releases you completely when you reach back and take hold of him. You stroke your hand up and down his length a few times, smiling to yourself as he bucks into your hand, then finally lean forward to place it at your entrance. You hover over him, his tip angled inward to hold him in place, and your palms come down to his chest to force him to remain still. He takes the hint, even if his hips are free and every instinct is begging him to thrust. He can feel the warmth of you, how slick you are against him, and knows that all he needs to do to relieve the feeling is a quick buck of his hips, but there’s something about the weight of you on his chest that has him completely at your mercy. You feel the small movements of his indecision, his hips twitching below you, then when he’s least expecting it, you slide down, full engulfing him. The tortured whine that erupts from him is reward enough for your patience. 

You start up at a rough pace, hands still pressed on his chest to balance you as you buck your hips and start to ride him. You look down at his hands and watch him clutching desperately at the sheets before he reaches back for you, hands hovering tentatively by your hips like he’s not sure you’ll allow it again. You grab hold of them and set them firmly against you. Taking the cue, he begins thrusting upwards. Soon, you’ve fallen into blissful sync, running your hands up to your chest and pinching at your nipples as you look back over at Din. His stance in the chair has changed since you last looked; his legs sitting a little wider, his body a little more slouched like he’s relaxed into it. His hands are back on his thighs, rubbing slowly at the beskar covering them, as if he’s fighting to keep them away from other parts of his body. Every so often you see his hips shift like he’s trying to gain some relief.

You’re caught off guard when Cobb sits up, but the new angle hits deeper and has you seeing stars. It’s put his face in a better position, his mouth now at level with your breasts, and as he pulls your body closer his lips and tongue latch onto one of your nipples. Your head drops back as you let out a deep moan and his thrusts begin to pick up, as if he’d been waiting for the signal. After being inside of your armor for almost a day straight, it’s a lot of sensation all at once, and with your pleasure fast approaching another peak, a familiar tightening in your lower belly, it’s almost hard to keep up. 

“How’s that, sweetheart?” Cobb asks between panting breaths, running his fingers down your back until his hands are cupping your ass again. “You like that?”

“Fucking perfect,” you reply. You reach for the back of his neck, tilting his head back as you look down at him from your position on top, and you find it’s a turn on in itself to have this kind of power over the man. You gently tug on his hair, giving you both a minute to bask in your shared pleasure before you lean down for a sloppy kiss, both too far gone to care. The minute you’ve parted Cobb buries his face between your breasts, grunting and moaning against you as his thrusts grow slow and uneven. You think that maybe he’s close, but the man’s self-control has proven impressive so far – he’s not going to cum until you do.

The tightening in your lower belly stretches towards its peak, threatening to break. Almost as if he knows, Cobb leans back, ever-so-slightly changing the angle of his hips, and suddenly he’s hitting a different spot, as if he was saving it for the perfect moment. Your pitch changes and you’re holding onto the man for dear life as your body goes into involuntary spasms around him, your fingers clawing against his back for purchase as he holds you tightly against him and forces you to ride it out. He pulls out at the last minute, since you’re currently so outside of your own body that you can’t remember to tell him to do so (and he gets the feeling your partner isn’t the type to let him mark you like that) and you feel warm spurts along your belly as he shoots his load against you, his strained groans adding one final note of obscenity to round off your pleasure. 

It takes you both a moment to return to your senses, and you lean down to kiss him again, ignoring the sticky sensation on your skin as you let the simple pleasure ground you. As you slip back onto the sheets, disentangling yourself from him, you look around for something to clean yourself up with but come up short. 

“Just use the sheets,” Cobb tells you, like he’s reading your mind, “I’ll wash’em up later.”

Your gaze narrows, though you’re too hopped up on endorphins to be concerned about much of anything right now. “Can you see through that thing?”

He grins as he falls back onto the bed, utterly spent, and shakes his head. “Just figured you wouldn’t be too keen on keeping my mess on you too long,” he replies, and it’s enough of an answer for you. 

“I could have said the same to you before,” you reply.

“I don’t think I’m wrong in sayin’ yours is much finer than mine. If there wasn’t a drop left to drink in this town, I think I’d find a way to live on what you just gave me.”

You chuckle, still soaking in your blissful afterglow. “All your townsfolk would go thirsty,” you comment with a smile.

“And it might just be worth it.” 

You know he doesn’t mean that – not after everything he’s gone through to save the town – but the sentiment is nice all the same, and you show him your gratitude with another kiss, intending to make it your last. Then it deepens, grows heated, and you find you have to pull away to gain back a little self-control. You part, both of you laughing, satisfied, and you reach for the sheets to wipe yourself down. Your skin still feels sticky afterward, but you doubt there’s much in the way of hot showers right now considering the water situation in the town, so you’re content to wait until you reach the Razor Crest, knowing you’re at least guaranteed better bathing in its refresher. 

As you look at Din, at the ruined way he’s sitting even though he hasn’t even touched you or himself yet, you think that if you both even manage to make it as far as the Razor Crest, you’re definitely guaranteed a better bathing experience.

“So, how’s this work? We never see each other again?” Cobb asks, hands resting behind his head, looking in your general direction with the blindfold still respectfully secured across his eyes. 

You look over at him as you begin to redress, beginning with your socks, still conscious of Din’s heated gaze on your back as you purposely bend over in front of him to pull them on. “Not usually.”

You catch the quick way the corner of the marshal’s mouth pulls down in a click, realizing he’s disappointed by this news, and then glance over your shoulder at Din. He’s inched forward in his seat, elbows resting on his knees, hands hanging lazily between his legs, as his gaze rests between your legs where you still glisten from your romp, and it takes him a moment to tear his eyes away and look up. But he seems to catch the meaning in your glance. His helmet tilts slightly to the right – consideration. 

You smile and step towards him in nothing but your socks, running your fingers down the sides of his helmet affectionately. He finally allows himself to reach out and touch you, his gloved hands grabbing handfuls of your ass, cold steel helmet resting against your belly, as you look back at the marshal.

“But I might find a way to make an exception.”

A grin blooms on Cobb’s face as he imagines all the things he’s yet to do to you – or, perhaps even better, all the things you’re yet to do to him. “I sure hope so.”

And honestly? So do you.

[chamomileteainabuttercup]

Dincobb Week Day 7 - Alternate First Meeting (SFW)

Welcome to my Dincobb Week fanfic posts! I've written stories and scenes of varying lengths and tones. For clarity I should say that most of these exist as miniature AUs of their own and have no continuity with each other or with anything else I've written about these characters, so in different pieces they may be described having different physical features, personal possessions, preferences, et cetera. (There are three exceptions which I'll note as such when they come out.) Thanks to @djarining, who helped me a lot with brainstorming and discussing my ideas!

For today I have one piece and it's SFW.

Alternate First Meeting - in which the Jawas weren't there but a Mandalorian was

There’s a small, struggling human shape toiling across the desert below the Razor Crest. Din notices it from a distance. Someone alone and on foot. No speeder, no bantha. Leaving an uncertain, wobbly track in the sand. Doomed, out there.

It’s not his problem. And he’s busy. There’s a big bounty to track down, someone Bib Fortuna wants contained in order to consolidate his new power. He hasn’t got a contract from this high up the Tatooine power structure before — it seems the regular guy bit the dust along with Jabba, opening up an opportunity. Din doesn’t know him, but he’s heard he was a Mandalorian, so the galaxy is a little worse off without him — but there’s nothing he can do about that, he just has to stay focused on his own work, take care of his own people.

It’s not his problem.

Damn it. It’s one thing when people have done something to place themselves beyond his sympathy, when they’ve threatened him or what he protects, but he can’t just ignore whoever is stupid enough to try to cross the desert alone and on foot. Maybe he doesn’t have to do anything now. The little figure just fell over and lay still.

Still, he lands close by and goes over to check.

It’s a man, one of the local settlers from the look of him, grey-haired and lanky. He’s not remotely dressed for this — not even a hat to keep off the sun, let alone a robe or a poncho, just a shirt and pants. He didn’t intend to cross a desert in that outfit. He doesn’t have a canteen. He was carrying a camtono — no idea what’s in there but presumably something of value, just not of any practical use for his survival. His breathing is shallow, but he is still breathing. Din picks him up, with some difficulty since he’s a dead weight, slings him over his shoulder, scoops up the camtono and carries him up the ramp into the hold of his ship, where there’s shade.

He places the man on the floor, sitting up against the wall with his head lolling, and examines him. He’s badly dehydrated; when Din pinches the skin on the back of his hand it takes several seconds for it to smooth out again. His lips are chapped and cracked and he’s covered in dust and dirt. He needs water, but if Din just pours it down his throat he’ll choke, so he goes and gets his own canteen, fills it from the galley tap, brings it back and shakes the man’s shoulder a little, crouching beside him.

“Hey, can you hear me? Talk to me. Can you hear me?”

The man stirs a little, his head rolling from side to side before he manages to lift it up. He looks at Din blearily, with suspicion and some alarm, and makes a faint croaking sound, his mouth clearly too dry to speak audibly.

“You’re safe. Drink some water.” He offers the canteen and the exhausted man moves like lightning to grab it. He puts it to his lips and drinks frantically, water trickling from the sides of his mouth into his beard and down his neck as his throat bobs, looking up at Din with disconcertingly sharp eyes. He looks ready to do murder when Din takes the canteen from his hand, but doesn’t have the strength to stop him. “Take a breather,” says Din. “You drink too fast and you’ll throw it back up.”

The man pants and sniffs, and wipes his mouth with the back of his arm before clearing his throat and saying hoarsely, “Who’re you?”

“I’m a bounty hunter,” says Din.

“They send you to get me?” the man asks.

“No. I was flying by and saw you pass out. I don’t know who you are.”

“Name’s Cobb Vanth,” says the man, then, politely, “May I have some more water?”

Din hands it back to him and he drinks again, his eyes closing this time as if in bliss. He lowers the canteen after several more deep swigs with a soft “paah” and catches his breath. He peers at Din again. “Are you a… you’re a Mandalorian, right?”

“That’s right.”

“I’ve never met a real Mandalorian.” He chuckles. “Heard stories. I know you’re good at killing.”

Din lets that pass. He’d like to think there’s more to him than that but he won’t deny he’s efficient.

“And you’re a bounty hunter, you say?”

Din nods.

“So you’re for hire?”

“You’ve been out in the sun too long,” says Din. “You can get some rest now. Where do you want me to drop you off?”

“No, I’m asking…” Cobb sits up straighter, pulling himself together. “I know some people that need killing. And I can’t do it all by myself.”

“I’m not a hitman,” says Din.

“You don’t understand,” says Cobb. “The Mining Collective.” He’s clearly still exhausted, but pushing himself hard. “They moved in on my town. The night we got news of the Death Star blowing up. We didn’t even have time to celebrate.”

Din’s heard about that in vague terms over the past few days; it doesn’t make a great deal of difference to his day-to-day, though he’s glad to hear of the Empire going down. Maybe sometime soon it won’t be so dangerous to be a Mandalorian. He won’t hold his breath, though. Can’t be disappointed if you don’t get your hopes up. The Mining Collective is bad news too. He nods.

“I lit out. Took what I could from the invaders. Grabbed a camtono,” Cobb says, looking around vaguely and then nodding when he spots it by his feet. “I wandered for days. No food, no water. And then… I was saved.” He gives Din a sly smile and points at him. “I guess every once in a while, both suns shine on a womp rat’s tail.”

“Guess so,” Din says, and begins to stand up. Cobb grabs a handful of his cape and holds on. He’s still weak, but he is quick. “Listen to me,” he says. “I’ve got treasure. That camtono. It’s full of silicax crystals. It’s yours if you help me. Help me take back Mos Pelgo.”

Din has to think about that. A full camtono of silicax is nothing to turn up his nose at. Depending on what Mos Pelgo is like, this could be a side job that doesn’t take too much time away from finding Fortuna’s bounty. Depending on the quality of the silicax he could be almost doubling his payday, and he has a lot of mouths to feed. He sits down. “Tell me about Mos Pelgo.”

It’s manageable. Mos Pelgo is just a flyspeck on the map. The Mining Collective hasn’t committed a whole lot of resources to it because they don’t have to, not to control a small population of frightened and demoralised people armed only with mining equipment. He has an armed ship and it amounts to a few minutes’ intensive work culminating in a fireball outside of town. He circles to make sure there are no survivors leaving the wreckage and returns to land closer to the settlement.

Cobb Vanth is grateful, relieved. It’s a good feeling when he can do that for someone he actually likes. Pretty rare too. Cobb is brave and resourceful and not too proud to ask for help. He likes that. He asks Din to have a drink with him before they settle up and while he declines the drink Din is happy to sit with him while he has one. It’s just the two of them in the shady cantina at the end of the day. Cobb keeps looking him up and down appraisingly, and it’s mildly disconcerting but not unpleasant.

“Would you consider staying?” Cobb asks. “As our defender. We can make it worth your while.”

Din shakes his head. “I have my own people to get back to.”

Cobb sucks his teeth, thinking. “Well, would you consider selling me your armour so I can do it myself? Take it out of the camtono too.”

Din’s back straightens from the more relaxed posture he was sitting in. “No,” he says.

“You can always get more, can’t you?” Cobb protests.

He clearly doesn’t understand what a repugnant suggestion it is, and Din doesn’t have the time or the inclination to walk him through it. “To get my armour you would have to pry it off my dead body,” he says. “Don’t ask me again.”

“Then we’re just as vulnerable when you leave as we were before,” Cobb says. “Sitting ducks for the next syndicate goons.”

“I’m sorry but that isn’t my problem,” says Din. “I’ve gone out of my way to assist and I need to get back to my job. You’re a survivor. You'll survive. Good luck.” He gets up and turns towards the door, he hears the clatter of Cobb’s chair overturning and — the man is quick — he feels something blunt and hard butting into the back of his neck, where he’s only protected by the folds of his cape. If he’s not mistaken, that would be the muzzle of a blaster. Must have been dropped by one of the Mining Collective goons in their rush to leave. Cobb is a survivor, a scavenger; of course he picked it up.

Cobb’s voice is urgent, sharp. “Take it off,” he says, “or I will.” He’s also still recovering from his exhaustion and dehydration. He’s not strong right now. Din simply drops down, whips his leg out and kicks Cobb’s feet out from under him, then rises up as he falls down and steps hard on the wrist of the hand that is indeed holding a blaster. He presses down with his boot until Cobb swears and lets go of the blaster, and then he kicks it away; it skitters under the sagging old piano by the wall. Cobb keeps on swearing and cursing him, sitting up wringing his bruised wrist with the other hand.

“What am I going to do now? What the hell am I going to do now?” he keeps saying.

“I can sympathise with your motives,” Din says, “and that’s why you’re alive now.” The camtono is standing on the table where Cobb set it, and Din picks it up and sets it down between his legs where he sits on the floor. “You should be able to buy the kind of gear you need with this. Try the Jawas, or the black market in Mos Eisley. Don’t tell anyone about me. The Guild takes a very dim view of freebies.”

“That’s it?” Cobb asks, looking up at him from red-rimmed eyes.

“That’s it,” says Din, and turns to go.

“I don’t know your name,” Cobb says abruptly, behind him. Just for a moment, Din wants to tell him. He wants to hold onto the feeling he had that they could have been friends. But Cobb is not his problem. He has more than enough of those.

“I don’t expect our paths will cross again,” he says, and he leaves.

[cutieodonoghue]

the edge of hope (6/9)

summary: canon divergent au; when Din left Sorgan to protect the Child, he left the woman he’d fallen in love with, not knowing he’d also left behind something else. Or, Omera and Winta join Mando and Grogu on their season 2 adventures. Mandomera!

Catch up here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

Sixth chapter below the cut or on AO3!

The Jedi

The journey to Corvus took a while, which meant there was enough time for the crew aboard the Razor Crest to spend time together in the hold of the ship. 

While Winta and the Child played together on the floor, giggling loud enough that it could be heard from the cockpit, Omera spent her time working on a sewing project for the baby. It would be a pair of socks, eventually, mended together with fabric she’d brought along from the village.

Din had decided to stay up above by himself. She had to wonder if it was because he was upset about having to say goodbye to his boy once they found a Jedi. Hopefully, they wouldn’t find themselves following yet another clue to find the Jedi that Bo-Katan had vouched for.

As Omera sewed together the small sock for her unborn child, she couldn’t ignore the guilt that sat within her. She should’ve told Din when she had the opportunity. She should’ve found the words, as hard as they would’ve come. But instead, she’d allowed herself to get caught up in it all over again.

There was no such thing as perfect timing. She knew that now. The children would always be a priority in their travels, and so would the mission at hand. 

As if he knew she was thinking of him, the Mandalorian dropped down from the upper level, landing with a thud that startled the children. They each turned to look at him for a moment, and when he had nothing to say, they returned to what they were doing.

He came to stand near Omera, though he didn’t come as close as he usually did. She sat within the opened sleeping nook, on the edge so that she could watch the children play.

“Are we getting close?”

Din turned his attention onto her, looking away from the kids. “Still a while to go.”

Omera nodded in understanding. 

She watched Winta roll a ball across the floor, gesturing for the Child to go grab it for himself. He seemed less interested in play time, instead flopping down to sit. Winta did the same. 

“When we were on Nevarro…” Din spoke carefully, just low enough that it was only for her to hear. Omera looked up at him patiently. “Cara and Greef said some things…”

She couldn’t help but smile. “They implied some things…”

He nodded. “I… just want you to know that I would’ve gone back to Sorgan. Even if you hadn’t come with us. You’re… important. To me.”

Her heart fluttered. She knew he wanted them to be together, that he may have even had feelings for her that were strong, but to hear him say so aloud felt like a gift.

“I would’ve been there waiting.”

The Mandalorian was quiet while his focus changed, shifting instead to his toddling boy with a happy grin on his face. At his side, Winta had discovered the Mandalorian armor that Cobb Vanth had worn on Tatooine. She slid the helmet over her head and giggled. Then, she pulled it off and showed it to the Child.

It surprised her a little that Din didn’t chastise the children for playing with it. He’d felt so strongly about protecting the armor and bringing it back to his people.

“Before him, I provided for my people on Nevarro. The covert is gone now. Scattered. After we find his kind, I won’t have a path I’m sworn to.”

Din folded his arms against his chest and turned his attention onto her again.

“I thought… maybe my next path would reveal itself to me on this journey. Maybe I’d find the members of my covert who scattered. But instead, we’ve just run around in circles, and Gideon’s back.”

She’d felt so excited at the idea of being together when this mission was over that she hadn’t considered what Din wanted to do next. Her only concern had been the relief of knowing he wanted to be together. 

Would he still want that when he learned of their child? And what about his future? Was it fair to him to stay together somewhere, raising a family, when he could help so many with his skills and talents?

Her stomach flipped and she averted her gaze, looking at the baby sock in her hand.

“Well, maybe your next steps will be revealed to you soon,” Omera told the Mandalorian. She refused to look at him, feeling too ashamed of herself.

Din was silent for a few seconds. “Maybe.”

Before Omera had the chance to say anything, to offer him hope, he walked away, retreating back toward the cockpit again. She shut her eyes, sighing softly through her nose.

How could they ever be together? It felt like a dream that would never be realized, so distant that it felt foolish to continue running after it.

At her feet, she felt the sudden warm embrace of small hands around her calf. Looking down, she saw the Child, whose smile was gentle and innocent.

“Hi, little one.”

Omera leaned down to pull him up into her lap. With her arm around his belly, he wrapped his fingers around hers.

“What do you think?” She held up the sock. “It’s not finished yet… but I think it will work.”

The Child tilted his head and cooed. He reached out with one hand to take it and she laughed.

“It isn’t for you.” Omera kissed the top of his head before whispering, “It’s for your little brother or sister.”

The Child’s smile spread happily. Her heart felt warm. She could only imagine what it would feel like to finally tell Din.

-

“Din.” Winta sighed his name heavily from her seat behind him. “I miss home.”

They had been on their way to Corvus for a considerable length of time, so Winta’s complaint wasn’t without its reason, but it still hurt to hear. They were a traveling crew, one he was quite fond of. Winta in particular was just one way this journey had become so much brighter, in more ways than one.

Omera had excused herself to use the privy a few minutes ago and still hadn’t returned, so Din knew he had no choice but to turn and answer the angst-ridden child.

“I know you’re uncomfortable. I think we’re all getting a little cabin fever.”

Winta threw her head back and huffed a dramatic sigh. “I wish we could just be there already.”

Din sighed. He took a peek out the window of the cockpit and pointed to the nearby planet.

“Look. That’s Corvus. If you can just sit tight for a few more minutes, we’ll start the landing cycle, and we’ll be back on solid ground soon enough.”

The door to the cockpit opened and Omera entered. She sat without saying anything, but he still glanced back at her anyway. 

The journey had been unintentionally tense between them for no other reason than his knowing that she had something to tell him, and her insistence that she wait until they finally found the Jedi.

If she wanted to tell him her feelings, he had an inclination that he knew what they were already. At least, he hoped he knew. After everything that they’d shared, everything spoken and unspoken, the direction she seemed to lean was in the very same direction he did.

It was hard to admit it to himself, after a lifetime of perfecting a tough outer shell. The feeling had only intensified with her closeness to him these past few weeks. 

Din was in love, and it wasn’t just with Omera. He’d fallen for Winta too, the adorable girl with dimples and a penchant for making up songs.

They would be together, once this journey was finished, and it made his chest tight with longing each time the thought came to his mind, even if it terrified him. He didn’t know what it would look like, or how they would make it work. They’d figure it out. They’d have to.

“We’re almost there,” Din told Omera. He looked at the Child, seated on the console to his right. “You better get back in your seat, kid.”

The Child cooed, but didn’t move. For a second, he looked at the ball tightened on the lever - his favorite toy to hold. 

“Hey,” Din said, trying to force his attention back on him. “What did I tell you? Back in your seat.”

After one more coo, the Child finally used his feet to move, climbing up onto Omera’s lap with a little contented sigh from the boy.

With the Empire likely on their tail and the Jedi not too far ahead, Din had to wonder what would come next. Would Moff Gideon lay off if the Child was returned to his kind? Would the Jedi even want to take him?

It was enough to keep Din’s mind busy considering every possible outcome of this stop on Corvus- a place, they soon discovered, that had been devastated by something, or someone. Trees sat dying on the barren forest floors, and a sleepy town sat behind tall brick walls.

It seemed desolate and empty. Why would a Jedi come here?

After settling the Razor Crest onto the ground near the town with tall brick walls, Din turned to his crew in the cockpit.

“Well, Corvus awaits.”

Winta slouched off of her chair, the earlier angst having melted into some sort of fresh tiredness mixed with it. Omera shook her head at the girl.

“You’ll feel better once we get outside,” Omera said as she ushered her child up out of her chair. “Let’s go.”

As they stepped off of the Crest, Din focused on the world around them. It was quiet. A few creatures moaned in the distance, but the land seemed peaceful. Although, the dead trees standing all around the ship seemed to be a bad omen for things to come.

Behind him, the Child sat down on the ramp. Din turned, frowning when he saw that he’d pulled the ball off of the lever.

“What did I say about that?” He leaned down, scooping the Child into his arms. He pulled the ball away from him. “This needs to stay in the ship.”

“Mama, what happened to this land? It’s so… sad.”

Omera shook her head. “I don’t know. It certainly hasn't been cared for, has it?”

“No.”

Din approached the pair who stood just ahead of him. 

“Let’s head into town. See if we can pick up a lead. I’ve never had dealings with a Jedi before, so… not sure where to start.”

“That seems as good a place as any to try,” Omera agreed. 

The walls of the town were higher than they’d seemed before, towering high above them as they approached the main gate. A handful of officers stood watch above them. Thoughtfully, he hid the Child within the fabric sling at his side in an attempt at keeping his identity secure.

After a short inquiry by the gate officers, they were permitted to enter through the gates, and once they stepped inside, Din knew right away that this mission was about to be difficult. Very few of the people within the gates seemed eager to linger, much less look in their direction.

“Pardon me, vendor, have you heard of anyone…”

The vendor turned away from him, heading away from her goods and inside the building just behind her. Frowning, Din sighed. He looked at Omera, who lingered behind him. She stared into an alleyway, at an older man who tended to two children.

“Excuse me,” Omera kept her voice low and kind. “Can you help us?”

The older man shooed the children away and then approached them. “Please, do not speak to them, or to any of us.”

Frowning, Omera shook her head. “We just need help finding someone. Please-”

Before she could make any headway with the villager, a pair of fully armed and threatening guards approached them and addressed him directly. 

“The Magistrate wants to see you.”

He met Omera’s gaze. She instantly held Winta closer. With a nod toward the guards, he allowed them to guide them toward their Magistrate. 

“Stay close.”

Omera nodded silently. 

They were led toward another large gate within the town: a strange centerpiece to an already strange place.

Worried, he kept Omera and Winta in his sights at his side. He was always committed to protecting them, but with the hope of staying together once this journey was finished, he felt extra protective.

As they approached the second gate, Omera protected her daughter from the sight of three prisoners being tortured for all to see. He tried to shield Winta from it as well and stepped in front of her strategically.

“Help us.” He was electrocuted for his words and released a scream so bloodcurdling that Din couldn’t help but feel contempt for the one who was doing this to them.

Beyond the gates, there was a calm and peaceful garden. A bridge covered a pond full of fish, and that’s where the Magistrate stood, feeding her pets while three lives were tortured to the brink of death just feet away.

He led his crew just beyond the gates and stopped.

“Come forward.” It was clear to him that this woman was the cause of the troubles of this town. While she lived in comfort, her people were tightly controlled and fearful for their lives. Even still, he stepped toward her with Omera and Winta just behind him. “You are a Mandalorian?”

“Yes.”

“I have a proposition that may interest you.”

Din held his head high, glancing out of the corner of his vision at Omera. She held Winta close, protecting her even though they’d already seen the worst that this town had to offer.

“My price is high.”

The Magistrate took a few steps toward him. “A Jedi plagues me. I want you to kill her.”

He felt the Child stir a little at his side and was reminded of his true purpose for being on this planet. He needed to find the Jedi, not kill her.

“That’s a difficult task.”

The Magistrate offered a small smile. “One that you are well-suited for. The Jedi are the ancient enemy of Mandalore.”

“As I said, my price is high.” 

He was unwilling to pledge that he’d kill one of the Child’s kind. It was wrong to even consider such a thing, but he didn’t want to put their lives in danger by denying the Magistrate’s offer. It seemed to him that she might know where the Jedi was, and that was all he needed.

The Magistrate quietly summoned a guard droid forward, one holding a spear in hand. 

“What do you make of this?”

The Magistrate spun the dull end of the spear toward him and then held it outward in both hands as an offering. Carefully, he stepped toward her to take it. When he took it into his hands, he studied it carefully. It seemed like beskar in feel, and when he tested it against his arm gauntlet, he was proven right. Rang out clean.

“Beskar.”

“Pure beskar… like your armor. Kill the Jedi and it’s yours.”

“Where do I find this Jedi?”

-

Walking around on a dying, unfamiliar planet with two children was not his brightest idea, especially considering the risks surrounding them, but they really had no choice. If they wanted to find the Jedi, they needed to keep moving.

Omera walked at his side while Winta ran ahead. She used the angst she’d built up on the ship in the quickness of her strides. It was only the smallest step above the complaining she’d done when they began the walk in terms of anxiety-inducing behaviors.

“Winta!” Omera called after her. “Winta, you can’t keep running ahead.”

Winta stopped, throwing her head back to groan. “Mama…”

“This is a planet none of us know,” Omera scolded. “We don’t know what’s out there. We can’t protect you if you get too far ahead.”

An idea came to him when he heard the Child make a noise. He gestured for Winta. “Come here. You can hold the Child.”

Winta came back toward them and waited patiently for him to grab the boy from the sling at his side. When he settled him into Winta’s arms, the Child cooed happily.

“There,” Din said, nodding toward them. “We’re getting close to the coordinates. We stay together. Understood?”

Winta nodded. “Yes, Din.”

He looked at Omera, whose usual brightness seemed to have dampened. “Okay?”

She took a breath of the thick Corvus air and smiled slightly. “I think all of the adventure is finally catching up with me. Traveling with two young ones isn’t easy, is it?”

Din shook his head. “No, but at least we’re together.”

Her expression softened a little and she nodded her head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Maybe I’m just overwhelmed thinking about what will happen when we find the Jedi. Will he go with them? Will he be okay with the Empire after him? Will we?”

They were all questions that had been plaguing him since learning of Gideon’s survival on Nevarro. It was comforting to know he had Omera to lean on as she worried about the same uncertainties. 

Sighing, Din stared at the Child in Winta’s arms. “I don’t know.”

A twig snapped behind them and Din turned quickly, pulling his blaster from his side as he moved. Ahead of him, an unfamiliar figure stood with a pair of light sticks in her hands. She wore a soft smile on her lips and a quirk in her brow.

“Aren’t bounty hunters supposed to travel lightly?”

Din narrowed his eyes slightly. “Are you Ahsoka Tano?” The woman said nothing indicating if she was or not, so he held hope that she was. “Bo-Katan sent me. We need to talk.”

Pleasantly, she stepped closer to them. For a moment, he thought about how he’d attack should she decide to try something, but she saw past him and Omera, her gaze settling on the Child in Winta’s arms instead.

“I hope it’s about him.”

-

The Jedi sat opposite the Child, both planted firmly on fallen trees, for hours. The light of the day gave easily to night, and Din was unable to stay in one place for longer than a second.

He paced around in wandering circles, waiting helplessly as Ahsoka seemed to commune with the Child in silence. 

He knew nothing of how the Jedi worked, or if talking silently was how the Child was meant to communicate, but he found some comfort in the way Ahsoka Tano carried herself. She would have answers for him.

Leaning against a nearby tree, Omera held a snoozing Winta in her arms. Her nervous gaze was set only on him every time he even cast a glance in her direction. His stomach flipped at the contact and his heart clenched warmly within his chest.

He found comfort in the fact that he wasn’t in this alone. They’d found the Jedi together.

From their perch just ahead of him, Ahsoka nodded at the Child, whose arms were held out as if he wished to be carried. She scooped him into her arms and grabbed her lantern, then slowly made her way towards him. 

Feeling nothing short of anxious, Din met her halfway. The Jedi settled the Child upon a rock and sat next to him. The kid babbled at her and she smiled fondly.

“Is he speaking?” Din asked. “Do you understand him?”

“In a way,” Ahsoka replied, meeting his gaze. “Grogu and I can feel each other’s thoughts.”

“Grogu?” Din asked. It earned him an excited chirp from the Child as he craned his head to the side to look up at him.

“Yes.” Din stared at the Child. The Child stared back. Something had changed in the kid. Maybe it was because he was understood by someone. “That’s his name.”

“Grogu.”

This time, the Child’s eyes were wider and his ears perked up. There was a happy look on his face accompanying the noise he made. It must’ve been true: his name was Grogu.

“He was raised at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Many Masters trained him over the years. At the end of the Clone Wars when the Empire rose to power, he was hidden.” As Ahsoka spoke, Din sat on a fallen tree stump opposite the Jedi to listen to her story. “Someone took him from the Temple. Then his memory becomes… dark. He seemed lost. Alone.”

She paused and looked thoughtfully at the kid- Grogu. He seemed tired. His eyes squinted and his head fell. His ears flopped around as he tried to keep awake. “I’ve only known one other being like this. A wise Jedi Master named Yoda.”

As if affirming her words, Grogu made a noise. Din wasn’t sure what to think, but he appreciated learning about his history. As tragic as it sounded, he could relate to it. They were both foundlings. They had both been lost. 

“Can he still wield the Force?” she asked.

Din shook his head. The word meant absolutely nothing to him. “You mean his powers?”

“The Force is what gives him his powers. It is an energy field created by all living things. To wield it takes a great deal of training and discipline.”

He thought back over every extraordinary thing, big and small, that he’d seen the kid do. There was so much power inside of him that Din could never explain or make peace with. The Mudhorn. Healing Karga. What he did on Nevarro with the fire. Moving things… choking people.

“I’ve seen him do things I can’t explain.” On the rock to his left, Grogu had closed his eyes, tired, and sighed as sleep overwhelmed him. “My task was to bring him to a Jedi.”

Sorrowfully, Ahsoka’s gaze fell dark. She frowned. “The Jedi Order fell a long time ago.”

It seemed like she didn’t want to help him. She had to know the dangers that the kid faced. He was special and wanted because of it. 

“So did the Empire, yet it still hunts him. He needs your help.”

The Jedi contemplated this. He could tell that it wasn't something she took lightly. On either side of Grogu's path, there was the threat of the Empire. 

“Let him sleep,” the Jedi said. “I’ll test him in the morning.”

Gently, she stood up, but she didn't walk away. Din followed her action and lifted the Child into his arms, cradling him as he typically did. Glancing past him, Ahsoka stared at Omera and Winta, not for the first time since their meeting. She looked back again.

“Grogu is attached to all of you,” she shared. She kept her voice low on behalf of the kid. “He told me she was special to you, too.”

Din smiled to himself, unable to help it. “Her name is Omera. She is… very special to me, yes.”

Ahsoka smiled amiably at his words. “It worries me- how attached Grogu is. It will make it difficult to train him.” Pausing, she took a half step backward. “But we’ll see how he is in the morning.”

“Right.” 

He looked down at the boy sleeping in his arms for only a moment, but when he looked back up again, the Jedi had disappeared.

On a sigh, he made his way over to Omera. She was still awake where she rested, waiting for him to share what he’d learned from the Jedi. He sat down with his back pressed to the same tree. Their shoulders pressed together, but he couldn’t see her.

“What did she say?” Omera asked quietly.

Din’s chest ached as he lowered his hand to the Child’s belly. 

Finally, he knew who this special child was, and it would only be a matter of time before they were no longer together. Ahsoka would undoubtedly see potential in Grogu and want to train him. It was something he hadn’t thought about, not wanting to deal with the realization that he had grown so attached to the kid.

Now that the time had finally come, the reality weighed heavy in his heart.

“She said his name is Grogu. She’s going to test his abilities in the morning.”

“Grogu,” Omera repeated. She laughed under her breath. “It’s nice to hear that he has a name.”

Din nodded in agreement. “It is.”

Silence between them grew like a vine on a wall for a long time, until Omera shifted and put her hand on his arm.

“I’m sorry we’ve made this part of the journey so difficult. Winta wants to go home… I’ve been distant...”

“You don’t need to apologize.”

“I do. I want you to know that I’m here to support you. And Grogu. I want to be here with you both.”

Hearing Omera say that she wanted to be with him wasn’t a surprise. They’d made an agreement that they would find a path forward together once Grogu was with the Jedi. Even still, he felt his heart rate double at her words.

Omera wanted him in a way no other had before. She wanted a life with him, and he wanted it in kind. It surprised him how much he did.

Din shut his eyes. He pressed his head against the tree. 

“When this is over…” he paused thoughtfully. “Maybe we could go to Nevarro. Winta can go to school. I can get work with Cara or Greef. We can have a home there.”

For a few seconds, she was quiet. He began to doubt that she felt comfortable with the idea of a life like that with him. Maybe she wanted something different. Maybe she wanted a life on Sorgan. But could he settle down there?

“That sounds nice,” Omera finally replied. Her voice was warm and gentle. “Maybe I would become a Mandalorian, too.”

The thought of Omera becoming Mandalorian was enough for him to forget to breathe. 

“You would do that?”

“Yes.” Omera’s responding whisper brought an unbreakable smile to his face. “I’m kind of jealous of your armor, if I’m honest.”

He laughed, a noise that came from his belly, and Omera joined him. Her fingers found his on the forest floor, gentle when they slid against his gloved hand. 

How had he found her? How had he been so lucky?

“What about Sorgan?” Din asked. “Your people would miss you. Winta would miss it too.”

She sighed. “I know. I think we would make it work. She could find new friends. And we would be together. I don’t want you to have to settle for something like a life on Sorgan if it isn’t what you want.” 

“You shouldn’t have to settle, either.”

She was quiet while she thought about it. “We could visit the village. It’s a compromise I’m willing to make for our future together.”

With his eyes closed, he could see it: a home in Nevarro. Winta’s giggles echoing off the walls. A bed he and Omera could share alone. Doing odd jobs for Greef and Cara. Bringing Winta home a gift from wherever he found himself in his travels. 

If he extended his reach enough, he could just feel it in the palm of his hand.

-

In the morning, once Grogu finally awoke, Ahsoka Tano began testing his abilities. 

She started with a rock in her hand, one she pushed toward him as a demonstration of what she wanted him to do. Once he held the rock in his hand, she asked him to push it back by using the Force.

Din watched from the side, sensing that Grogu’s stubborn streak didn’t only include not listening to him. Apparently, he struggled to listen to everyone. When Grogu failed to send the rock back to Ahsoka, the Jedi sighed.

Thoughtful, she took a step to the side. “Let’s try something else. Come over here.”

Din looked to the Child and tilted his head toward Ahsoka to try and get him to move. He didn’t.

“He’s stubborn.”

“Not him. You. I want to see if he’ll listen to you.”

He glanced over at Omera, who sat nearby with Winta, brushing back her daughter’s hair as they watched Grogu’s test in silence. They didn’t want to cause distraction for the kid.

“That would be a first,” Din remarked, lifting his brow in exasperation.

“I like firsts,” Ahsoka said with a wry smile. “Good or bad, they’re always memorable.” She handed him a fresh stone, wanting to start over. “Now, hold the stone out in the palm of your hand. Tell him to lift it up.”

He did as he was told, the rock placed delicately between his thumb and forefinger. “All right, kid. Lift the stone.”

The Child stared back at him, blinking. Apparently, he didn’t want to listen to him either.

“Grogu,” Ahsoka reminded him.

“Grogu…” Din repeated.

This time, Grogu’s ears perked up. It was clear he enjoyed hearing Din say his name. Might have to keep that in mind for later.

“Come on, take the stone.”

Din could tell that Grogu gave it an effort, but it was nothing compared to what he’d seen him do before. 

“You see?” He turned to face the Jedi and chucked the rock backward onto the ground again. It was useless. The kid didn't want to do it. “I told you, he’s stubborn.”

“Try to connect with him.”

Connect with him… how? A thought occurred to him, one that made him smile slightly. The ball from the lever on the Crest seemed to get him to do what he wanted. Just like Omera had suggested: award him with something he wanted to earn his responsiveness.

Din reached into his belt to find the ball. He lifted it into his palm and then slid it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“Grogu.” He waited to get the kid’s attention locked on him. He gestured to the ball with a nod. “Do you want this?” His ears perked. “Well, go ahead.”

The Child concentrated on pulling the ball from him. He could feel it. Something was happening. He was about to do this, wasn’t he? He could prove to them all that he could use the Force.

“That’s right, take it. Come on.” Din couldn’t help from smiling from beneath his helmet. He had faith in the kid. He’d seen him do so much… if Ahsoka only knew. “You can have it. Come on.”

In an instant, the ball soared through the air between them, landing directly in Grogu’s waiting palm. He couldn’t help the swell of pride within him. He nodded, moving toward the Child.

“Good job!” He felt the grin on his face spread. “Good job, kid. You see that? That’s right.”

Din caught Omera staring at him. She smiled in kind, just as proud of Grogu as he was.

The Child cooed, looking at him as if he was more excited about the affirmation than he was about having his ball in his hands again. When he approached Grogu on his perch, he knelt down. He offered Din the ball and he took it, unable to look away from him. He was always amazed when he saw the kid do his thing. There was no doubt that he had gifts.

“I knew you could do it. Very good.”

From behind them, the Jedi spoke, “It’s like I thought. He’s formed a strong attachment to you. I cannot train him.”

He knitted his brow, instantly upset, and whirled around. “What? Why not? You’ve seen what he can do.”

Ahsoka stared at the Child for a moment and then turned her attention up to him. “His attachment to you makes him vulnerable to his fears. His anger.”

“All the more reason to train him.”

The Jedi took a step towards him. “No. I’ve seen what such feelings can do to a fully trained Jedi Knight. To the best of us. I will not start this child down that path. Better to let his abilities fade.” Ahsoka glanced toward Omera and Winta briefly. Then, she took a step backward as if she were prepared to leave. “I’ve delayed too long. I must get back to the village.”

The Jedi began on her path away from them, but Din knew he couldn’t let her go.

“The Magistrate sent me to kill you.” The Jedi pivoted on her heel to face him once more. “I didn’t agree to anything. And I’ll help you with your problem, if you see to it that Grogu is properly trained.”

Ahsoka took a deep breath as she considered the agreement. Together, they would make quite the team- one their enemies would never see coming. 

Having made up her mind, she nodded. “Then we should get moving.”

-

After an afternoon spent trudging through the dying forests of Corvus, Omera felt as if every ounce of energy she had was absolutely depleted. As they approached the Razor Crest, all at once, all she wanted was to curl up in a corner somewhere and sleep.

Din and Ahsoka had come up with a plan to solve the Jedi’s problem, but they would wait for morning before they would begin their siege. Until then, their group returned to the Crest in silence, listening to the sounds of their feet against the forest floor and a couple of creatures moaning in the distance.

“He’s worn out,” Din murmured as he adjusted his son in his arm.

Omera hummed. “Using the Force must tire him.”

The Mandalorian nodded in agreement. He was the first up the Razor Crest’s extended ramp. As he walked, he soothed Grogu with his palm over his belly. Omera couldn’t help but see the action as a vision from the future, where he carried their newborn in the very same way. The thought made her heart ache with longing.

Winta followed after the Mandalorian, but Omera lingered at the base of the ramp. She turned when she felt a set of eyes on her. Ahsoka studied her from nearby with a soft, unassuming smile on her face. 

She hadn’t realized that Ahsoka had followed them, but wasn’t surprised to see her. They’d spent the better part of the day together.

The Jedi approached, only slowing to a stop when they were close enough that their conversation would be kept private.

“I can feel your child,” Ahsoka said. She looked downward, a silent gesture to her middle. “It’s a boy. He’s strong. Healthy. Congratulations.”

Her heart raced wildly. How could she know? Was it the same way that Grogu knew?

“Thank you. But how do you…?”

Briefly, Ahsoka glanced up the ramp toward the inside of the Razor Crest. The Jedi was calm. Patient. 

“The Force is in all things.” With a small smile, she added, “Grogu sensed him too.”

Omera thought back to the experiences she’d shared with the boy, where he’d seemingly been able to sense the unborn without needing any prompting at all.

“I had a feeling.”

The Jedi took half a step backwards. “I’ll be back for the Mandalorian before dawn like we agreed. You should rest.”

Before she could respond, Ahsoka turned away. Omera shifted her focus upward to seek out her family within the Razor Crest. 

If what Ahsoka said was to be believed, she carried within her a boy. It was good to know that he was strong and healthy. Any worries she’d had about that could be put away. 

Absentmindedly, her palm fell over her middle and she gave the small bump a gentle caress. Joy filled her as she considered her unborn child. What would he look like? In what ways would he be like Din? The thoughts gave her heart a lot to ponder.

Inside the ship, she saw Din with Grogu at the sleeping nook while Winta watched on from a slight distance.

The Mandalorian lingered, hovering with his son as if he could make time freeze, and Omera looked to Winta again, whose sorrowful focus sat on Din. 

Winta knew they would have to say goodbye to the young Jedi soon. It wouldn’t be easy for any of them to let go of Grogu and see him step into his future, but there was hope in it. Grogu would one day be able to master his skills and return to them stronger than before. It wouldn’t last forever.

“Why don’t you set up our bed out here tonight, my love?” Omera asked her daughter with a gentle hand pressed to her arm.

Winta rubbed her eyes tiredly and nodded. “Okay.”

Their bed wasn’t much: a series of blankets and a single pillow they shared, but it was enough to make do. It was at least better than sleeping sitting up in the cockpit, even if the ground made her muscles ache just the same.

Omera went to Din and put her hand over his forearm, drawing his attention to her. “He isn’t going anywhere. Let him rest.”

“I never gave any thought to him leaving,” Din admitted in a quiet voice. “I always thought there would be more time.”

She nodded. “I know.”

Din sighed heavily. He finally pulled away from the hole in the wall. Their fingers tangled between them and she knew then that he was more vulnerable than he’d ever been with her.

This was difficult for him. She’d never seen him so conflicted about doing what was right before.

“Let’s try to get a few hours of sleep.”

Once the makeshift bed on the floor of the Razor Crest was completed, they pulled the ramp back up for protection from the creatures of the forest planet, and Omera settled in beside her daughter beneath a single blanket.

The Mandalorian lay out on his back beside them. The position made Omera feel tired in the most bone-aching way, but she turned to him anyway, and saw that he stared back at her.

He pulled his glove from his hand and she smiled when he sought out hers. This time, he traced lines into it, drawing over the creases and grooves of her palm like he could memorize her. 

Desperation filled her. She wished that they were alone so that she could tell him how she felt about him. That she loved him. That she was carrying his child- a boy. That the future they’d discussed just a night ago was more possible than they could even dream.

“Are you okay?” Omera asked in a whisper.

Din stopped his movements on her hand briefly at the question she posed and then continued, whispering in response, “I can’t teach him what he needs to know. This is the best path for him.”

His selflessness was one of the strongest parts of him, but she knew it didn’t sit as easily as he made it sound. This was hard. He and Grogu were a clan of two. They’d formed an unbreakable bond.

“But are you okay?” Omera asked again.

The Mandalorian hesitated.

“I’ve grown to care for him as my own.” Din’s voice was quieter than before; timid. “He’s… my son.” 

His words brought tears to her eyes. She forced him to stop tracing lines into her skin and reached up to take his hand in hers instead.

“One day, you will look back on this moment and remember the hurt, but then see the good that came from it and realize that it was well worth it all.” She smiled a little. “My mother told me that years and years ago.”

Din’s fingers tightened around hers, but he said nothing. 

“She was so… wonderful. She would’ve loved you.” Omera smiled at the thought of her mother meeting the Mandalorian. She’d probably laugh that bright laugh of hers and challenge every word that he spoke. “She always told me I would find a man one day with stars in his eyes to match all of my ambitions.”

“Did you?”

She stared at Din for a moment. Her heart skipped a beat, frantic even though she knew the answer without needing even a second to think. Although she had never seen his face, she knew that she had indeed found a man with stars in his eyes.

“Yes. I found you.”

He released a soft breath- almost a gasp of surprise, like he couldn’t believe she felt this way for him.

“Every hardship that’s happened in my life led me straight to you,” Omera continued. “And I don’t regret any of it because meeting you… being with you…” She smiled more, admiring the Mandalorian in the darkness. “It’s made me so much stronger. I’m sure Grogu feels the same.”

When he spoke, his voice sounded fragile, “You’ve made me stronger, too.”

-

His mission with Ahsoka was a rousing success. 

The townspeople were freed of their oppressive government, Ahsoka was free to do as she pleased, and to top it all off, he now had a spear of full beskar to add to his assortment of weapons on board the Crest.

But, it was the end. The Jedi wanted to see the Child, and she would take him to train him in the ways of their kind. 

Slowly, Din climbed the ramp up to check on the sleeping boy. Once he stood in the cargo hold, he discovered that Omera and Winta sat out waiting for his return.

Omera had a sorrowful look in her eyes that Winta mirrored. 

“Is it done?” Omera asked.

He nodded his head once. “I need to bring him to her now.”

His stomach twisted sourly. If this was goodbye, he needed to make it quick. They’d both get over this, in time.

“Winta, let’s go sit in the cockpit,” Omera suggested quietly. She seemed so aware of what he needed: time alone with the kid.

Without needing any other push, Winta and Omera went up the ladder to the cockpit, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts and the child he’d fought to protect time and time again.

Din approached the hammock and realized he couldn’t be upset when he found that he was still asleep. He nudged the hammock, trying to wake him peacefully. 

“Wake up, buddy,” he murmured. “It’s time to say goodbye.”

Grogu stirred, his eyes opening briefly, but sleep found him again, and Din sighed softly with a smile on his lips. 

Eventually, Grogu whined and Din took the opportunity to lift him into his arms. Leaning back against the nook, he stared down at his son. Grogu took his finger and held it. His eyes opened a little bit more this time.

“Hey, Grogu.” Din grinned when Grogu’s ears perked at the sound of his name. “Hey, kid.”

Grogu hummed and his eyes slid shut, but Din didn’t begrudge him for wanting more rest. Instead, he held his son tighter and wished that the moment could last longer.

After a couple of minutes that stretched into dozens more, Grogu finally flexed his fingers into his palms and opened his eyes once more. 

“You ready now, buddy?” He swallowed the lump in his throat. “I promised I’d take you to a Jedi… so, that’s what I’m gonna do. Okay?”

The Child stared at him blankly.

“You don’t belong with me. You belong with your kind.” It felt like a lie. “It’s time to go.”

He brought the Child away from the sleeping nook slowly. Stopping at a nearby crate, he prepared him for the small journey to town. Fussing over him seemed to come naturally, he mused, and he began to wonder if it was instinct.

Just as he was about ready to take Grogu back to Ahsoka, he turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. It seemed he didn’t need to go back to town after all.

Din lifted the Child into his arm again and allowed him to hold onto two of his fingers as he descended the ramp to get closer to the Jedi. 

“You’re like a father to him,” Ahsoka said gently. With a deep, steadying breath, she looked from Grogu and back up at Din. “I cannot train him.”

He hadn’t come all this way to hear such a thing, but there was hope that beat idly within him anyway. Maybe, if she just saw the kid do one more Jedi thing. Maybe if he could show her what he did to the Mudhorn...

“You made me a promise, and I held up my end.”

Ahsoka’s gaze shifted to Grogu and she took a few steps forward as she thought about something. She reached out to rub a finger over the Child's.

“There is one possibility. Go to the planet Tython.” She looked up at Din. “There you will find the ancient ruins of a temple that has a strong connection to the Force. Place Grogu on the seeing stone at the top of the mountain.”

“Then what?”

“Then Grogu may choose his path. If he reaches out through the Force, there’s a chance a Jedi may sense his presence and come searching for him.” The Jedi folded her arms against her chest. “Then again, there aren’t many Jedi left.”

Grogu babbled sadly. 

She looked up at Din again, as if she could sense something. Her gaze shifted once more, to the ship just beyond him. Turning, he saw Omera standing at the top of the ramp on her own, watching the exchange. 

“Thank you.”

Ahsoka took a step backwards, away from the Crest, and lifted a hand. “May the Force be with you.”

Din held Grogu just a little bit tighter as he turned away from Corvus and the Jedi on the ground. Omera gave him a tender smile and reached out to touch his arm as the door sealed itself shut.

“Guess there’s still at least one more stop. Tython.”

She nodded. “I heard.”

Together, he and Omera made their way back up to the cockpit of the Razor Crest. In silence and with a comfortable ease, he settled Grogu into Winta’s open arms and climbed into the pilot’s chair to begin preparations for takeoff. 

They would have one more stop on this journey. It almost seemed like it would never end, but part of him was glad that they had more time. 

Fear of the unknown path ahead of him could be pushed aside for a few more days, until the Jedi came for the kid. Then, Din would have to decide where the path was and what he would do next. 

Once they broke the atmosphere into space, he heard Omera shift. Her chair squeaked just a little as it pivoted.

“Winta, would you please take Grogu with you down below? I need to talk to Din.”

His heart leapt. She wanted to speak with him alone? What for?

He turned around to face his passengers. Omera nodded gently to her daughter, silently asking her to leave. The girl stood to her feet with Grogu tucked beneath her arms and stepped out of the cockpit.

Once the door slid closed behind the children, Din focused on Omera.

“What’s going on?”

In her eyes, he saw something he’d seen a few times before: her secret. 

She was interrupted by Winta the last time she almost told him. Now, they wouldn’t have any interruptions. 

“I said I would tell you something when we found the Jedi. Can I tell you now?”

He swallowed the freshly formed lump in his throat and nodded just barely enough to be registered. 

“Yes.”

Omera sat forward in her seat with her hands clasped together in her lap. She seemed confident, but at the same time, he saw nervousness in the way she breathed. She silently debated what to say before speaking, and when she did, she kept her focus on him.

“I’ve wanted to tell you since you came to Sorgan, but I keep getting tongue tied.” A soft, tender look filled her features. “I’m expecting a baby.”

His heart leapt and his stomach lurched. “You’re…”

She straightened out in her seat and settled her hand against her midsection, revealing to him a gentle swell of her belly.

How had he not noticed? How had he not noticed?

Looking away from her hand over her body, Omera met his gaze once more. 

“Ahsoka told me that she could feel him in the Force.” An excited smile spread wide, crinkling beside her eyes with the purest form of joy. “She said it’s a boy. He’s healthy and strong.” 

A baby. A boy. Omera was pregnant. 

How had he not noticed?

Din felt almost lightheaded as the brunt of the reality of it hit him with full force. She had been with him for a few weeks and hadn’t uttered a word about it to him. 

Should he be offended? Concerned? Angry? Happy?

How the hell had he not noticed?

Moments from their time traveling together flashed through his mind one after the next. Near-death experience after near-death experience. Danger after danger. Fight after fight. 

Guilt cascaded over him in a hard wave. 

Omera’s smile faded as time ticked on. “I know it must be surprising for you to learn. I was surprised when I found out, too. I didn’t think I’d get the opportunity to have another child. He’s already changed my life so much.”

As much as he wanted to be happy for Omera as her friend, there were so many darker thoughts in the way of that. He was angry that he’d put her into situations that were so risky. Angry that she hadn’t told him the truth beforehand. 

Angry at the betrayal he felt for loving someone who didn’t feel the same. There wasn’t any chance that he had anything to do with her child after only one night with her. There must have been someone else. Right? 

He closed his eyes and his head fell. He didn’t know how to ask her if she was committed to another without breaking his own heart.

“Is…” He paused, hating the way his voice cracked. “Is it... mine?”

“Oh,” she gasped out of surprise, “Din, yes, of course.” Her voice was breathless, weighed down with a sense of relief. “How could I have been with someone else?”

His heart rate doubled at her admission. She hadn’t been with another. He was the one Winta had told him about on Trask: the one her heart chose. It wasn’t a surprise to him, but it did fill in some of the uncertainties he felt. 

“Omera, you could’ve been hurt. You could’ve…” 

His chest began to heave. The thought of losing Omera hurt more than even the thought of losing Grogu.

“I knew what I was getting into coming with you, Din.”

“I know, but I didn’t know that you were-” Din cut himself off when he realized his voice was raised. He sighed heavily. “I put you in danger.”

She shook her head swiftly. “I don’t blame you for any of it. We’re all okay.”

He couldn't shake the anger off of him for putting her in danger. It had been part of the agreement when she came along, but she hadn't told him ahead of time about her child. He could've done more to keep her safe.

“When we were still on Sorgan, you could have told me.”

Omera's focus went to her lap for a moment. “I didn’t know if telling you would’ve made you want to stay. I didn’t want it to force you to. You are on a path with Grogu to find his kind. A path I wasn’t on until you asked me to come with you.”

His chest began to ache when he realized just how much she cared for him. Without knowing how he felt for her, he imagined it would have been difficult to admit her secret to him. Allowing him to continue on his path for the Jedi had been a selfless act, even if it may have been a shortsighted one.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” There was a worried frown on her lips and her eyes were filled with sorrow and regret, but she didn’t beg or plead. “If this changes how you feel about me, about our future… I understand. I haven’t been honest with you.”

Suddenly, she stood up in front of him. She took one of his hands into hers and settled it over her middle. He could feel the curve of her body. It was so very real.

His breath caught in his throat. He felt hot, as if the armor he wore was suffocating him, but it was the only thing keeping him from absolutely breaking down.

“This child is yours. If you want him.”

At her words, the weight of the day came crashing down on him. He’d almost had to let go of the kid, and now he had so much more than he thought he’d ever be given. 

Somehow, he’d been given Omera. Beautiful, kind, gentle, Omera. And after just one night together, he’d been given a child. His own flesh and blood. A boy, if the Jedi was right. His son.

“If not…” Omera managed a weak smile and lifted a shoulder. “That’s okay. Winta and I can return to Sorgan. I’ll keep the baby safe and he’ll be loved. You can visit if you want to.”

Din stared at her from behind the haze of his visor and suddenly, it felt like he was playing a game. Wearing his armor in front of Omera felt like a child’s game. What purpose did it serve him to cover his face from her?

She was his equal. The one his heart belonged to. The one who carried his child. 

If there were Mandalorians who didn’t need to wear their helmets in order to stay faithful to the creed, he could bend the rules and step across the line for Omera. Of everyone in the universe, she deserved to know him wholly.

He pulled his hand away from her body and decisively stood so that they were on equal footing. She stared up at him with an edge of uncertainty in the depths of her eyes.

The last thing he wanted was for her to be unsure about how he felt about her, or about their future. 

Din settled both hands on either side of his helmet. Slowly, he lifted it from his head and lowered it to rest on the console beside him. 

With the helmet removed, he could breathe freely. Cool air entered his lungs through his nose in deep, steady breaths that he forced himself to take. 

All at once, he felt just as terrifyingly bare and exposed as he had on Nevarro with the IG unit. Anxious and self-conscious thoughts flooded his mind, but he quieted them when his focus settled on her.

Somehow, she was more beautiful to him, seen without obstruction. He could see more clearly the roundness of her belly, a sign of his child growing within her, and cursed himself again for not seeing it any sooner.

Omera seemed overwhelmed by his choice to remove his helmet- just as much as he was. Unshed tears gathered in her eyes and the softest gasp escaped her parted lips.

“I love you, Omera.” His voice was barely a whisper. It embarrassed him, how fragile he sounded, but she could see him as he was, truly, and it was everything all at once.

Hesitantly, she reached out for him with one hand. Her fingers were cool when they ever so softly grazed his cheek and his eyes shut instantly at the feeling. Invisible sparks lit up on his skin like fireworks that made his heart jump in surprise.

Slowly, her fingers slid upwards, until her palm rested over his cheek, and he leaned his weight into her hand. He opened his eyes again to meet her gaze. 

Omera tilted her head and offered him a tender smile, just as fragile as he felt. “I love you too, Din.”

As if she knew it was too much to handle all at once, she lowered her hand away from his face and settled it against her middle instead.

Everything felt different. Everything felt new. Changed. The world he’d made for himself had been shattered in the best, most terrifying way. He and Omera were going to have a baby. They were going to be a family.

He took a moment to admire her, each pretty eyelash, every freckle, each breath she took that lifted her chest. It was different, in a good way, seeing her so freely. 

“Are you okay?” he asked. “Do you need anything? Do you feel sick?”

Omera laughed out of surprise. “No, I’m fine.” She soothed a hand over her bump. “The worst of the sickness is over.” With a soft sigh, she added, “I feel so much better now that you know, too.”

There would be so much that they’d have to decide. Where they would go. What they would do next. How they would raise the kids. But all he could think about was her, and how he wished he could give her the entire universe.

“How do you feel?” she asked.

He shook his head, unsure what she meant. “About what?”

“This is a lot all at once… I would understand if you were overwhelmed.” She drew in a breath and averted her gaze, looking instead at the floor. “The day you left Sorgan, I thought it might have been partly because of me… because you weren’t sure what to do-”

He settled his hands over her hips and Omera timidly peered up at him.

“It is the Way to have a family,” Din told her. “Children are important. I didn’t think I’d ever have any of my own, though. It’s easier to travel alone.”

She nodded in understanding. Hope shined in her eyes brighter than it had before. “It was meant to be.” Her smile spread. “I’m so excited to meet him. I think he’ll be a lot like you.”

He felt his eyes grow wide with even the thought. It was hard to wrap his mind around the idea of what their child would look like, or act like. It was different for Omera. She’d had the experience with Winta and knew what to expect. 

“I hope he’s more like you. Not me.”

Omera tilted her head with an affectionate smile. “We’ll see soon enough.”

His hands shifted on her hips and he squeezed as his thoughts shifted to the path that laid ahead of them. The Jedi had told him to take Grogu to Tython. Could he do that now? Did Omera want to do that now?

“Should we go back to Sorgan?” he asked. “If Gideon’s after the kid, it’s dangerous traveling with me.”

Omera frowned. She pressed both hands against his heart and he reached up to hold each hand, almost instinctively. 

“We found the Jedi, but the journey isn’t over.”

“No.” He searched her eyes and thought about the way Grogu had so easily accepted Omera into his life. “You’re like a mother to him.”

“I know. I’ve felt it too.” Omera softened some. “If you want to take us to Sorgan, we’ll be alright waiting for you to come home to us.”

Home. He’d had to find his home on the Razor Crest the past few months, with the kid. Now, he’d have to figure out what home looked like with Omera, Winta, and, eventually, a newborn.

Overwhelmed, he lowered the crown of his head to hers and shut his eyes. She reached up to the back of his head and threaded her fingers through his hair, her fingernails scraping lightly against his scalp as she went.

As he considered next steps, he knew that he needed to be careful, but Omera had proven herself capable in dangerous situations. She’d been an active participant in several fights, eager to help in whatever way she could, all while secretly pregnant. He’d become stronger because of her help. Together, they were a powerful team.

If what Ahsoka told him was the final step in finding a Jedi that could train Grogu, there wouldn’t be much left to their journey. And if Gideon was out there, they could work together to protect what was theirs.

“You should come with us,” he told her. “Grogu would like that.”

“And when it’s over, what will we do?”

He shook his head. “We’ll… figure it out. We’ll be a family. All of us. If that’s what you want.”

Din pulled back from her just enough to meet her eyes. She lowered her palm to his face again and caressed his cheek with her thumb.

“I want that very much.”

It filled him with so much hope knowing that she loved him.

“Me too.”

A happy smile found her lips. “I'm glad.”

Their eyes locked in a way that they hadn’t since that night on Sorgan, with a silent fire burning within each of them. He couldn’t help the thought that came to him next: he could kiss her if he wanted to.

He had never kissed anyone in his life, but something about the moment made it feel right. He leaned in and brushed his lips against hers. 

It almost felt like time itself slowed to a stop. Maybe it did. Just for them. 

Pulling back, he kept his eyes shut and put his forehead against hers. Omera’s hand gently found his neck. 

“You have given me so much,” she murmured with regret in her tone. “I don’t want you to sacrifice your creed as well. I never saw your face. Put your helmet back on.”

Din shook his head. He pulled away so their eyes could meet. “I want you to know me like this.”

Omera still seemed hesitant. Her fingers caressed his face, running over the curves and lines of him as if she wanted to memorize what he looked like. Each touch felt like a reviving spark that lit his heart up with the brightest light.

She pulled her hand from his face when she was done.

“There was a time I believed I would have been content never seeing your face.” Her dimples popped when she smiled at him. “But I’ll admit that I’m thankful I know who you are beneath.”

His heart leapt. “Does it give you hope that our child won’t be a monster?”

Omera’s gaze fell to her middle and the smile on her face spread. She laughed and it was one of the sweetest sounds he'd ever heard.

“I wasn’t worried, but… yes.”

Din admired Omera again. She was everything to him. 

When he lifted his helmet into his hands, it felt strangely heavy. He hesitated with it, studying Omera one last time unobstructed by the visor’s haze.

“I love you.” 

“I love you too.”

Having heard her voice once more, saying those precious words, he resolved that it was time to put the helmet back on, so he did. 

He didn’t know what the future held for him other than what stood before him. The idea had scared him before, the uncertainty of what he’d do once the Child was safe with his kind, but now, a different fear found him.

Would he be able to live as a Mandalorian within this newfound family? Could he provide for them? Keep them safe? 

No matter where he would find his path leading him, he could only hope that he would be enough for Omera. For Winta. For his child.