#Din 🩶

[kedsandtubesocks]

cowboys like us

Bull Rider!Din Djarin x F!Reader x Bronco Rider!Jack Daniels

summary: one cowboy is already a challenge, but two is either going to be your best blessing or worst curse

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern rodeo cowboys AU, Din is still a papa and has his baby, light discussion of the rodeo and events, light angst & miscommunication with eventual resolution, Jack & his sweet talk with calling reader ‘baby, honey, sugar,” bar scene with moments of drinking, heavy making out, intense grinding & dry humping, spicy moments, M/M/F & M/M dynamics, polyamorous exploration that leads to eventual poly relationship

word count: 5.9k

a/n: welcome to the first fic of the ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series! I know, I know, this is such a strange combo & AU but I’m such a sucker for cowboy Din and of course Jack decided to barge in and here we are lol, the biggest and deepest thank you’s go to @perotovar @lowlights @nothoughtsjustmeds & @beskarandblasters - this wouldn’t be here without y’all and I’m so eternally grateful…and to you if you’re reading this thank you so much

You wonder if maybe you’ve unknowingly slipped into a strange country song and not realized it.

Popcorn litters the floor all around. The plastic arena seat is a bit uncomfortable. A drunk woman behind you almost spilled beer on you but apologized profusely. There are more cowboy hats here than you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

But as you sit in this strange existence a voice over the loudspeaker comes and sparks up your soul. As the announcer’s voice booms, loud screams swallow up the air of the stadium.

You spot him already climbing onto the bronco and your heart jumps into your throat.

“The man smooth as whiskey!” The announcer screams clear and booming with an accented southern pride.

“Give it up for Jack Daniels!”

Shrill shrieks erupt fanatically loud as if the place now morphes into a boy band concert instead of a rodeo competition.

That is until the alarm sounds. The chute opens, and the ride begins.

Focusing on Jack is chaotic. The bronco bucks frenzied trying to throw the cowboy off with a wild strength. His black Stetson hat goes flying and your stomach drops at how rapidly his body whips around. Back and forth, back and forth, he tries holding on with simply one hand.

It’s terrifying. It’s hypnotic.

Then it’s over fast.

The beautiful horse flings off Jack and he lands on the dirt. You clutch the edge of your plastic seat. The horse continues bucking and your mind rushes to the worst case scenario of the creature’s strong might rearing down on Jack.

Then the cowboy springs up like nothing.

A smile even illuminates his handsome face and it ignites the crowd into a gleeful roar.

You don’t even know if he did good. You barely understand the point system or average or whatever it is.

The horse thankfully settles and Jack struts away effortless.

Suddenly Jack’s salt of the earth eyes flick up. He scans the crowd until his gaze lands on you.

The seat you’re in sits close to the edge of the arena, on the floor just right outside the ring.

Then, with all the confidence of a man whose job it is to ride a bucking bronco, Jack blows you a kiss.

The drunk woman behind you along with her friends scream their heads off thinking he blew the kiss to them. Maybe he did. He’s a damn flirt. You even glance backward to see one of the girls, very drunk, tries to calm herself down from freaking out.

Jack now walks heads to the side to exit. His eyes however stay glued to you. And the minute you turn back to stare at him…he winks.

Then he vanishes.

This cowboy might be this event’s closer, but this isn’t the end of the rodeo for you. The incoming bull rides shift the air. It’s considered another heavy hitter main event and the anticipation bubbles.

Unlike Jack, who arrives like a firecracker ready to brighten up any room he enters, this cowboy emerges like a shadow.

Keeping his head down, it doesn’t help that a protective mask covers his handsome face. However, the energy radiating off the cowboy’s deadly focus composure is like a quiet storm on the horizon.

He stays silent, doesn’t even lift his eyes up, almost in a focused trance.

“Mr. Silent and Deadly himself… Din Djarin!” The announcers boom out his name.

Then you watch as the man becomes a myth, one who tames a wild force of nature.

Din and bull fly out of the chute with a choking force.

In the same way your breath stopped watching Jack getting bucked around, the same dizzying panic fills you as Din battles the same force.

He stubbornly stays on, rides as the bull thrashes around. You wonder if this is where some mythologies stem from because it is something unreal watching this man move with this powerful creature.

The crowd hoots and hollers cheering Din on. You stay petrified in your seat.

Then the ride finishes fast.

Din flies off the bull and your breathing stops. Rapidly the trainers along with other cowboys scramble to settle the bull and check on Din. The bull rider casually rises up unbothered, unshaken, and the crowd goes wild.

You exhale a loud shaken sigh of relief. Your body feels like jello, as if fear has finally been exorcized from your body leaving you a boneless mess.

Suddenly Din rips the guard mask off and all attention falls to him. Sweat adds a shine to his face and his hair is a tousled mess but he’s never looked more gorgeous.

“What the fuck?! Dude, he’s hot too?!” Someone squawks out.

The ladies sitting behind you of course notice Din and squeal out feverishly. Unlike Jack, an actual peacock who owns the crowd basking in the attention, Din’s face stays lowered with his eyes averted shyly.

Until his dark eyes suddenly flicker up, like a viper peering out from a cave. His eyes find you surprisingly fast.

You and him simply stare at each other. Then so quickly Din averts his eyes away again and heads off.

The shakiest exhale leaves you.

Your heartbeat drums loud in your ears as if you were the one who just finished the wild rides. And maybe you did in your own way.

“Oh my fucking god!” Behind you one of the girls screams. “So many hot cowboys! Like, how the fuck do you pick just one?!”

Alcohol drenches her playful words. However, to you they become barbed and catch on your heart. Because how do you pick between two handsome cowboys different as day and night.

“Babe!” One of the girls giggles. “That’s the secret, you don’t pick just one! You have ‘em all!”

She howls a wild laugh and the others scream scandalized but gleeful. One of them even jokingly says ‘so you gotta catch ‘em all like pokemon!’ which almost makes you laugh.

But the words hang in your heart like a rusting anchor.

Grabbing your bag, you head out. Arriving at the backstage area of the arena, you flash the visitor’s access pass to security who lets you through. You’ve only done this a few times before but your heart still races getting this type of entrance.

Earlier today Din said he’d wait for you after in the small rest waiting room. When you open the door, you stumble upon a sight.

Jack's hand firmly holding Din’s face -

As the two men passionately kiss each other.

Jack’s taller than Din, slightly, not by much. Din’s build however is firmer, solid, compared to Jack’s sleek stature.

Immediately they both break away from each other as if electrocuted.

Din and Jack’s eyes catch sight of you and their faces fall. Din whispers your name out while Jack stays silent.

Reality rams into you like a released wild bull.

Because you realize you’ve interrupted them. You're barging in, an actual third wheel.

You want to move, want to say something. But you can’t even imagine what. It clicks that you read this whole situation wrong. Maybe neither of them actually held feelings for you.

A sudden loud knock on the wall makes you and the cowboys practically jump.

One of the event announcers pops his head in casually.

“Hey sorry, but you’re needed out back Djarin.” He says to Din then leaves.

Even with the surprise arrival and then departure, the thick tension doesn’t leave the air. If anything it’s caused a strange vacuum to form.

Jack now breathes out your name hesitantly. Yet, his eyebrows are furrowed hard, concerned and upset. Din’s dark eyes shine so visibly soaked with worry.

Before you can even say anything one of Jack’s main coaches and manager, Champ, waltzes in. He’s a striking presence that draws all the focuses to him

Champ whistles loud. “Who died in here?”

No one says a word.

“Alrighty then,” Champ shrugs, not wanting to dive into whatever he senses.

“Daniels come on,” he urges. “I ain’t waiting anymore. They’re probably waiting for you too Dinny.”

Champ’s nickname for Din, which Din himself detests, makes you smirk and brightens your spirit for a moment.

But the awful tension stays sticking to your skin allowing a poison to seep in.

“Hey there, sweet pea.” Champ nods his head acknowledging you. With a weak smile you nod back.

You politely excuse yourself and leave.

The walk out of the arena is the longest of your life.

Everything you just saw flashes through your mind a rapid flip picture book. You can process what you saw but can’t fully grasp it.

Even outside, the roar of the rodeo swirls around even in you.

You might have wandered into a country song earlier but you didn’t realize it was going to be a heartbreak one.

You met Din first in a grocery store parking lot.

It had been a total accident. Literally. You had gotten into a small fender bender with him in the parking lot of a grocery store.

He drove the oldest silver Honda Civic ever still existing and still can’t believe it didn’t even manage to take a hit. You were also horrified when you saw there was a baby sleeping away in the car.

Yet the entire time Din was so kind and concerned about your wellbeing.

You didn’t realize it then, but that shy and very handsome scruffy man with his ancient Honda Civic would change the orbit of your life.

Because that day you accidentally collided with a cowboy, it opened your world like a vast desert horizon.

Jack arrived soon after.

If Din was the soft daybreak, then Jack came in like a dust devil.

Though they competed in two different categories, you discovered many rodeo circuits crossed paths.

When you went to visit Din months ago at the ranch housing many of the cowboys for training, that’s when you first met Jack.

He walked straight up to you and asked if you were lost because he was concerned heaven was missing an angel.

He hasn’t shut his mouth since.

Before it was simply you and Din. But Jack is a force that seems to barge his way in like the wild broncos he rode.

He is shameless in flirting. He often playfully touches yours and Din’s cheeks often, or casually drapes himself over you or his fellow cowboy.

Din on the other hand is quietly sweet. He routinely sends you photos of the sunrises of all the cities he travels to.

So opposite, they almost are like the sun and moon.

You began caring for them fiercely and fell so fast.

But now, you contemplate if you simply played yourself a fool becoming your own rodeo clown.

All the ideas, all the heavy conflict of having to pick between the two of them, taste bitter on your tongue. You take a long swing of your drink to hopefully wash it away. It doesn’t.

Din texted you asking to please meet him here at this bar near the secondary training arena and now you wait.

It’s lively tonight. Even after being thrown into the world of cowboys, or rodeo circuits, sitting in the honky tonk bar feels as if you’re on another planet. The music thankfully has a nice beat so you enjoy the song playing.

Someone slides in besides you, not even sitting on the bar stool.

“You seem lonely.” The voice of a stranger.

Besides you, a lanky college freshman looking guy leans against the bar staring at you.

“Just waiting for a friend.” You politely answer.

“Well, maybe you’d like some company waiting?”

You’re about to decline when a looming presence arrives at your back.

“Sorry there buckaroo, but this lovely peach is taken for the night.”

Jack’s smooth voice rings out and shocks your system.

The stranger’s face drops comedically fast and the punk scrambles away without another word.

You turn around and it isn't just Jack behind you but Din is as well.

Jack wears his black cowboy hat and you’re surprised to see Din in one as well. He rarely wears his Stetson but it transforms him.

In typical western, the dark midnight cowboy hats are that of the outlaws, the bandits. One of Din’s managers, an older man named Cobb Vanth, once told you that.

And maybe these two are.

Yet, even as bandits, they stand before you like two country romance song dreams. The kaleidoscopic lights dance and radiate off them.

Din mutters your name with hesitation swirling in his eyes.

Panic prickles against your skin. You’re not ready yet.

So you turn to the bartender and order three rounds.

“Honeypie, we gotta talk.” Jack says low, strikingly somber.

Shaking your head, you swallow hard. “Not now. I just…can we just please…just wait for a moment.”

Please let’s just enjoy this false dream a little longer, is what your heart whispers out.

“Of course.” Din mutters and they both move to sit on either side of you, a sort of barricade you’re already missing.

The drinks come and in a nervous quiet move you and the cowboys cling your glasses together. Everyone tosses the shot back. The tequila burns and helps slightly.

You decide if this a goodbye to this dream, you want to at least enjoy it a bit tipsy. So you order another round.

“Careful.” Din urges, ever the cautious one.

“Come on.” You now perk up. “You two both scored high yesterday! We gotta celebrate.”

Which is true. Even with your brewing heartbreak, you still got excited seeing their scores from the app alert. Because that’s the person you’ve become. You have apps on your phone dedicated to rodeo cowboy scores. Well, you might be deleting those apps soon.

You move to take the next shot.

You raise your glass to your two dear cowboys - the ones who you text everyday, the ones you try facetiming as much as you can, your dearest friends.

And maybe that’s all they will be.

You toast to their scores and to them.

Din’s eyes hold a pained shine in them that makes your heart twist. Jack instead wears a rather terrifying steeled up composed face.

You feel empty taking this shot and only Jack throws his back with you. Din even doesn’t touch his drink.

This time the tequila goes down warm and numbing.

The alcohol begins to work its confidence magic in you as you tease Din for not wanting to drink with you. He however glares at you and you’re reminded of an unwavering mesquite tree.

Maybe this is a bad decision.

You can’t be selfish about this. These two found each other. All those moments you thought they had feelings you simply had read the situation wrong.

“Look,” you sigh now, deflated. “I’m sorry-”

Jack suddenly smacks his hand against the bar countertop. It’s aggressively firm, a loud startling whack of a noise.

“Dancin’.” Jack declares loudly. “We’re gonna dance.”

“What? You and him?” You ask over the music.

“No.” Jack snaps. “We’re all goin’. So get your asses up.”

Din scoffs.

Jack, with firm hands yanking on yours and Din’s sleeves, actually drags everyone to the dance floor.

You can’t comprehend what’s happening. The floor is heavily crowded and no one notices three more additions.

“I don’t dance.”

“I can’t dance.”

Both you and Din fling out the same hurried replies to Jack.

He barks a laugh.

“It ain’t about being good at dancin’. S’about feelin’ the music, feelin’ the beat.” He yells back and then instantly transforms into a commanding force.

Sliding behind you, Jack turns you around to face Din.

His and your eyes go wide.

Jack then reaches to yank at Din’s dusty jacket, effectively pulling him forward -

Straight to your front.

Your heart hammers loud in your ears, so loud it drowns out the music blaring.

“Relax.” Jack purrs out. “Just…feel.”

You want to bark back about how that’s easier said than done. But your tongue gets tied up so badly you can’t form words.

Then one of Jack’s solid hands moves to your hips while the other reaches across to rest against Din’s shoulder.

You’re locked into them.

Jack begins to move you slowly.

The music shifts into something sultry, almost aching to be a slow dance, but a lively beat keeps it moving. You didn’t even think country songs could have this kind of vibe. Even though Jack mainly guides your hips, you already start swaying to the beat on your own.

That’s when Jack slowly bumps and nudges his hip against yours, fully pressing you closer to Din.

The position isn’t lost on you. It’s undeniably intimate, overly sexual, and you’re worried how this looks to others in the bar.

Then Din presses forward firmer against you and your mind blanks for a moment. Now sandwiched between a cowboy canyon, a dangerous heat burst from your chest.

Jack moves his nose against your face.

“Relax gorgeous,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”

Your eyes hazing over flicker to Din who stares out with a deep desire swimming in his eyes. Cautiously his hands now move to rest on your hips. One of them goes on top of Jack’s.

You swallow hard and pray the lingering liquid courage will bless you.

Deliberately, sensually, your hips wiggle and grind between the two of them. You might not be properly dancing right or even swaying to the beat, but desire is the one guiding your body.

Many times nights alone in your bed you've thought of them like this with you. And now, you’re here caught in the sticky heart of that passionate desire.

Din dives forward and presses his face against yours.

Jack groans as his nose buries into your hair. Their cowboy hats create a sort of cover over you casting a shade against the glittering bar lights.

You’re literally under their shadow.

“Oh baby.” Jack whimpers.

Your hands, which you awkwardly kept close to your chest almost afraid to touch this dream and have it pop like a soap bubble, now tingle. You want to touch them both as much as you can.

So one of your hands slides up to hold onto Jack’s face while your other runs up Din’s broad chest to his shoulder. Your hips continue to sway and grind between them.

Then, like a spark ignited, something shifts.

Maybe it’s more people crowding in on the dance floor, or the heat finally bubbling over, but you’re suddenly squished firmly between them, practically glued together. Din’s face, his striking nose, presses against yours while Jack burrows the side of his face against your cheek.

They purposely rut into you. You think this is maybe the closest taste of what it would feel like for them to fuck you and you drown in it.

With Din and Jack, both hard, grinding against your front and back, your eyes close. A debauched sensation sinks its claws into you. It’s sinful and utterly deliriously delicious. You worry you’re about to melt.

Lust rips through you, an incinerating beast, and you bow to it.

In that haze, Din leans down and licks the sweat on your neck. His tongue against your skin, electrifies you. You ascend out of your body and moan.

Your body bucks up hard begging for attention and release only to find you’re still firmly caught between a cowboy canyon.

Jack shushes you firm but low. “G’damn y’all ‘re gonna be the death of me.”

His voice slurs, almost sounded drunk in something dangerous. Din continues licking at your neck not stopping once.

Suddenly Jack moves and shifts your body. The jostling breaks the movement and snaps you aware, like you’re slowly waking up, wearily trying to recapture your focus.

Quickly he snags your hand and Din’s. Out of reflex you clutch onto Din’s jacket. Jack, now a focused man on a mission, guides the three of you out of the crowd.

“Where are we going?” Din mutters against your face.

“Don’t know.” You answer truthfully.

You can’t tell where Jack guides you. The haze still fogging up your focus keeps you surprisingly pliant. It also doesn’t help that Din now practically drapes himself against your back, a protective cowboy like cloak. His lips continue to softly try and kiss any inch of skin he can reach.

You never thought he’d be the greedier one.

Jack guides everyone down a hallway past the restrooms. He even shouts a friendly greeting at someone. Of course he would know people here.

“Get your asses in here.” Jack now growls and his accent seems stronger.

That’s where he opens a door to a small back office type room and barrels everyone inside.

Jack’s not gentle. He almost yanks everyone in like a panicking kid trying to hide something from their parents. The door slams behind him. You’re transported into a badly lit mess of an office.

Jack whips around, pitches forward and before you can react he moves to attack your neck alongside Din.

His tongue licks a possessive strip up to your jaw then starts biting at your skin.

A wild moan escapes you as your eyes blissfully close.

You’re burning up. Your body, now molten, is only held up by your cowboys pressing flat against you. Both Jack’s mustache and Din’s faint beard scrape against your skin beautifully. Two tongues maping out your skin makes your mind evaporate. Every inch of your body screams for them.

That’s when you feel Jack drag his tongue on your neck down towards Din.

With another playful nip at your skin, Jack moves to lick against Din’s mouth still on you.

The wildest moan escapes you and you almost come right then.

Both cowboys almost kiss each other while also trying to still taste at your neck has you absolutely dizzy.

It’s hot and consumes every inch of you. You’re panting ridiculously loud and you can’t even hold back your whines or whimpers anymore. Slick pools between your thighs and sticks to your body. Your neck feels just as wet with the spit covering your skin.

Suddenly a loud aggressive bang rattles the door and your perfect illusion pops.

Panic barrels into you like a wild bull and your eyes go wide.

But your cowboys react fast. Din protectively curls his sturdy arm over you and draws you closer. Jack whips around and stands protectively in front as if to block the view.

Thankfully no one opens the door.

“Ya better not be fuckin’ on my god damn couch, Daniels!” A man howls with laughter.

“No fuckin’ way in hell.” Jack hollers back. “Not when your nasty ol’ ass calls its home.”

From the other side of the door the owner of this room laughs electrically loud. The man smacks on the door twice, an almost playfully goodbye.

The blazing heat that was melting you now simmers out like a fast dying out ember. An awkwardness settles in its place.

Your mind sorts through the heavy doubts again. Were you just a toy for them to play with? And even though a more aggressive side urges you to just enjoy and not think more into this, you don't want to be seen as just an accessory to their duo.

So slowly and quietly you untangle yourself from them.

Din mutters your name slightly confused and Jack turns around looking towards you.

“Where ya headin’ out to, peach?” Jack asks surprisingly composed.

You quietly tell them you’re gonna head home. A thick tension returns, choking the room.

Din calls your name, solid and striking.

“We need to talk.” His words are firm.

You want to make a sarcastic quip that they weren’t much for talking a few moments ago. But you don’t. You want to go home, maybe wash your skin off till you reach bone. You want to wash them away because it’s sinking in.

This last taste of desire is maybe your goodbye.

“Now why ya gotta make it sound like we’re talkin’ about a goddamn funeral, darlin’?!” Jack huffs annoyed.

Din shoots him a sharp annoyed look.

Darlin’

You’ve never heard Jack call his fellow cowboy that.

His nicknames for Din ranged from ‘pigeon’ to ‘sourpuss’ all were affectionately teasing in nature. Now the tender pet name holds the unspoken truth, as if seeing them kissing didn’t solidify it earlier.

“I’m sorry, I just…I read this wrong…” your voice becomes small and deflated. You would head home with a broken pride, but you didn’t want to be bitter about this.

Your eyes flicker up to them.

“You two… I’m glad you both found each other.” You smile weakly, the strongest attempt at being honorable and good. Yet the words turn to ash on your tongue.

You promise you’ll text them when you get home and now turn to leave again.

“The fuck s’that all about?” Jack snarls and his words snap your spine straight.

“Jack.” Din chides him sharp and your attention whips back to them a bit panicked.

Anger, along with the faintest edge of annoyance, colors Jack’s handsome face as he glares at you.

Your face scrunches up confused. What is he so upset about?

“The three of us were practically just humping like fuckin’ barn animals in heat and you wanna say shit like that?” A hot flash runs in Jack’s eye and you swear he even sounds hurt.

“Don’t say it like that.” Din glares.

Your eyes flicker between them and an edge of panic starts crawling on your skin.

“Wait, what?” You mutter out confused.

Silence suffocates the room and it feels like you’ve entered into a classic western standoff waiting to see who will strike first.

“Oh baby,” Jack’s gentle exhale shatters the moment as his eyes stare so directly at you. “Ya haven’t realized it?”

“What?” You squeak out confused.

“We’re crazy for ya… like a bunch of fools tangled up in a damn lasso.”

Jack’s words ignite a flurry of sparks within your chest that knock you breathless.

Turning towards Din, you notice his Stetson hat slid off, possibly during the heat of the moment earlier. But it allows you the clearest view of his gruff face and you think he’s never looked younger. His face is open. Hesitation and worry linger in Din’s dark road eyes reminding you of how secretly tender hearted this cowboy is.

Then Din nods so slowly, agreeing.

You almost choke on an inhale.

The sudden thought of picking between them has a fanged spike of anxiety rushing through you.

You didn’t want to pick. But, were you being selfish because of that?

Sensing your hesitation, or catching whatever emotions now flood your face, both cowboys now hesitantly move towards you.

“Talk to us, please.” Din softly urges.

Your voice cracks, tripping on itself annoyingly conflicted. But you manage to cough out that you don’t think you can pick between them. You don’t think you ever could and you’re worried your heart might not even handle it.

“Oh sweet baby,” Jack breathes out.

Suddenly the back of his hand tenderly strokes your cheek. Din gently glides his hand to your back and softly rubs you soothingly.

Your heart jumps into your throat at their sudden shift in affections.

“You don’t have to worry…or pick.” Din explains softly and with comfort.

Wait.

“You both…” you exhale shakily. “You two want me? Want us?”

For some reason, the notion of ‘us’ strikes you right then and there. That idea of you and them becoming an ‘us’ feels like the most natural progression in your mind.

Your best friend, when you told her about you and these cowboys, had cautiously asked if there was maybe a possibility of a poly type relationship happening. You immediately shot her down, not even wanting to think of the option.

But if you had been honest, a part of you started feeling guilty at the thought of wanting that. You enjoyed spending time with Jack just as much as Din. And you enjoyed spending time with them together.

Now you stand on the new ground of something beautiful waiting for you to step into.

“Sweetheart, hate to break it to ya…but we’ve been an us even before our dumbasses even realized it.” Jack snorts.

Din rolls his eyes and you snicker. But Jack is right.

Tentative date-like nights included Jack joining. Jack constantly invited both you and Din to his ridiculously lavish RV he used for the rodeo road trip days. That eventually led to days where you and Jack waited together for Din to finish. Or Din and you watching Jack practice. Din even began bringing his adoptive son over and Jack took to the baby like a fish to water.

This path you unknowingly had been on now is about to be crystalized before you and it warms every bit of your soul.

But a sharp fanged doubt suddenly gnaws at you.

“Wait,” your voice wavers. “This…this isn’t the alcohol talking right?”

Din sighs, shaking his head no but Jack answers first.

“‘Fraid not gorgeous. Been wanting this for a while.”

All worries get snipped and float out of your body leaving you so limitless.

Din leans to draw you into his side embrace and burrows his face against you.

“Sorry we didn’t discuss this sooner.” He mutters. “It all just…kind of happened.”

You understand and lean back against him. Din exhales shaky, soaked in a relief you can almost feel in your bones.

“Now, now, you two angels can’t go leavin’ out ‘ol Jack.” Of course Jack chimes in.

“Maybe it’s time we rethink this.” Din dryly comments and you laugh when Jack squawks out like a disgruntled crow.

But he effortlessly manages to borrow against both you and Din. It’s a little cluster, a soft clanging of bodies, but it’s cozy and feels right.

Someone yells outside the door laughing and your heart jumps.

“Whose office are we even in?” Din mutters out.

“Jimmy’s. Well technically mine too since I own the bar with him.” Jack casually drops.

Of course he did.

“And as cozy as it is here,” Jack adds gently. Both of their hands now intertwine against your hip.

“I say we move this little party somewhere nicer, like let’s say…my trailer?” Jack offers.

His RV is nice. Din’s is very spartan compared to Jack’s that had a full king sized bed and jacuzzi.

They truly are your sun and moon, so opposite and yet so beautifully brightening up your sky. A beautiful buoyant bliss fills you knowing you’re in their orbit, just as much as they’re in yours.

Din’s baby boy is a fidgety one. While he enjoys running around, he also loves to watch the world form anyone’s welcoming arms.

Which at the moment happens to be yours.

The baby chews happily on his favorite adorable stuffed longhorn plushie while the two of you enjoy the peace of the arena.

Without the noise, the yells and commotion of the crowd, or the sea of cowboy hats, the arena is strangely quiet, almost church-like in its own way. You understand now how it can even inspire a deep devotion.

After all, you see it through the eyes of two cowboys.

The baby happily shrieks and begins twisting in your arms. You turn to see what’s gotten his attention.

“Why howdy there my lil’ tumbleweed!” Jack warmly cries out and without hesitation scoops the sweet little boy into his arms.

The baby squeals in delight as Jack peppers him with kisses. Your heart melts at the sight.

“Don’t worry, didn’t forget about you too darlin’.” Jack winks and leans to kiss you soft now.

His mustache tickles your lips and you smirk. He also playfully and lightly smacks your bottom. You shoot him a look while Jack innocently shrugs.

“Our cowboy come out yet?” He asks.

You shake your head. Not yet. Din being ever the respectful man he is, allowed the others to use the practice bull first and took the last slot available for the practice times.

However, his team and the others arrive just as fast. Din steps out, the true silent assassin he’s regarded as. He’s memorizing to watch, so deeply focused and intense.

The baby now whines at being held and demands to be put down.

“Don’t worry I’ll watch him, you watch Din.” You reassure Jack while he places baby boy on his feet. The baby immediately waddles away, absolutely giddy to be free.

“Lil’ stinker.” Jack affectionately teases with adoration shining in his eyes.

Your eyes now watch the curious little babe you treasure so dearly. Behind you though, the training starts.

The clang of the chute being prepared and the commotion of the team getting ready fills the arena.

Then the alarm blares. The loud noise has the baby jolting in surprise. Before he can cry at the sudden noise, you quickly scurry over and swoop him back in your arms. You playfully press a loud raspberry against his sweet chubby cheeks and he giggles.

The noise of the ride erupts with the thrashing of the bull and the upheaval of the dirt.

Then, it’s all over.

“Attaboy!” Jack cries with a loud proud clap.

The baby, now fully distracted by the commotion, seems happy in your arms again as you approach Jack’s side.

Quickly your gaze goes to the arena to make sure Din’s alright.

“How did he do?” You ask about Din.

“Better! Still ain’t as good as yesterday's time but rides like these just help keep ya warm and flexible.” Jack explains.

With the bull settled, Din moves towards Vanth to discuss the ride.

Din draws his helmet up and already has so much sweat on his face. It’s unfair how handsome he is, rugged and adorably scruffy.

“Bweh!” The baby happily spots his papa and squeaks.

The noise causes all in the ring to turn towards where you three stand. Cobb Vanth grins kindly and Din’s eyes soften immediately spotting your little cheering group.

“Yeah lil cowpoke, you didn’t get to see how good your papa was, but he did great.” Jack coo’s as he softly smooths out the baby’s hair.

With a pat on the back from his manager, Din jogs over to you and Jack.

It’s unique, this new carved out existence of yours with them. But it’s beautiful and feels as if it’s always meant to be, like this has been in your veins long before you even knew.

Din reaches the edge of the ring and you and Jack shower him with praise. It’s adorable watching him get flustered at all the attention given to him, especially when you lean and Jack lean to kiss his cheeks.

“Seems like your ridin’s was a little rusty today though, cowboy.” Jack purrs. “Maybe we should all have a nice private lesson after this.”

“Hope those lessons aren’t with you. Last time you were out by the second count.” Din, like the surprisingly snarky man he is, effortlessly replies back as snatches the baby wiggling trying to for him.

Jack squawks hilariously upset and you snicker as your heart fills to the brim.

The arena is quiet, a sacred space that watches over all of you together like this. And it’s special, having this moment here with both of them.

You think there might not be many country songs about snagging two cowboys, but it’s okay.

You find this song in your heart feels eternal.

[kedsandtubesocks]

Oh WOW MY LOVELY J!!!!

So I stayed up and read all of this last night and I’m still so emotional about it I’m sorry lol

This premise of Din being a vampire is WONDERFUL! And then the way you unfolded and built the world with this, absolutely incredible!!! The vibes were immaculate and you let Din’s heart guide it so well!!

Plus the BIG TWIST!! And the moment we get to see that first reaction to Din finding her and already wanting to not let her go? I want to live in that moment forever J 🥺 the descriptions and how perfectly you captured Din’s adoration and protective love being so evident from that first moment then letting us as the audience know everything from then was built with love and hope in mind and all just moment led up to that reveal?! GAH!!! 😭

Also the blood drinking scenes 🫣 hot as HELL!!!

But seriously you crafted up such a hauntingly moving tale my dear friend and I’m honestly still going to be so in awe!!! Thank you for sharing this with us and thank you for the love and time you put into this because I felt it stitched in every word!!! 🥹✨💖

— BLEED FOR ME MASTERLIST

[complete] | [playlist] | [preview]

mand’alor!vampire!din djarin x f!reader

rated e - 20k

prompts: vampire!au + “i would burn the world for you.” + vampire has a taste for specific blood + revenge + (one-sided) enemies to lovers (+ 2 to be revealed!)

tags: vampire!au, blood/drinking blood, shared memories, angst, death/violence, biting, body worship, possessive!pleasure!dom!din, implied aphrodisiacs, mind meld, praise kink, oral, piv, marking

For the haunted hoedown, hosted by @psychedelic-ink and @inklore! References some themes from this fic & also inspired by this post.

When it's revealed that the Mand'alor is seeking a companion, you find yourself among those hoping to be chosen. A life of luxury in exchange for your blood seems a fair trade - even if you're hiding a closely-kept secret. One that would certainly put your life in danger.

Though, you are not as alone as you think.

Because he has one, as well.

❧ part i

❧ part ii

❧ part iii

❧ part iv

❧ part v

❧ epilogue

❧ just a taste - vampire!boba fett x f!reader

❧ bound version of this fic

(And a huge thank you and lots of love to laur and sil for making such an amazing event!! 🥀)

[dindjarindiaries]

Everybody say Happy National Boyfriend Day to them immediately

[zaddymandalorian]

Well if you are sooooooooooooooo bored and need attention.

I love you very much and I can not wait to see you again.

And we should totally start planning the next art commssions 👀👀👀

The one year anniversary is coming sooner than we expect it

Can't wait to!

And you're right 👀

Oh my gods. Not long and it's a year since we started the madness 🩶💜

[stars-n-spice]

HAPPY ASEXUAL AWARENESS WEEK!!

I swear as an ace I was aware of this week

Anywho, here are my favorite headcanon aces in Star Wars :D

Yippiee 🖤🩶🤍💜 Love all my fellow aces, no matter how you identify!

Identities under the cut!

Bad Batch? More like Ace Batch, amirite? 🥁

Yeah, no, they're all ace and/or aro one way or another. In the words of Tech, "I thought it was obvious."

Hunter -> Oriented Aroace Echo & Wrecker -> Demisexual Tech -> Quoisexual Crosshair -> Reciprosexual

Honestly I just took my favorites and made them ace one way or another but I also feel really strongly about it, lol.

Rex -> Graysexual Commander Fox & Wolffe -> Aroace Ezra Bridger -> AroAce Rey & Ahsoka -> Asexual Din Djarin & Jango Fett -> Aroace Obi-Wan Kenobi -> Biromantic Ace

[kedsandtubesocks]

K!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!

Okay… so this might have become my favorite fic of yours oh my goodness 💘💖💕💗🩷

First off the way you write out the tension and brew a sense of spooky vibes building and unfolding is incredible!! I loved the little shift of things & the questioning we got from reader, then seeing how you let the story flow pulled me in more and more until the big reveal and wow wow wow it was beyond WORTH IT!!!

And then the way you described Din’s shadow tentacles? 😮‍💨🥵 HELLO I AM DYING LOL

They were so dang creative and also fit him perfectly!! These silent dark shadowed features that are so tender yet powerful reflected Din perfectly & im obsessed!!!

Plus the small hints you gave us to them slowly touching and caressing reader I’m 🥺

Okay… also - the smut in this AWOOOGAAA!! You gave the best of both worlds with all the sweetness and the possessive good Din sexy action and I can’t thank you enough heeheehee🫡

This fic is such a treat lovely, thank you thank you SO MUCH for sharing this with us dearest 💗 now I’m off to go reread this masterpiece 🏃‍♀️

shadows

Din Djarin x f!reader | 5.4k | ao3 | 18+

summary: you were pretty sure the ship was haunted.

a/n: well, I finally finished it! this is my very late entry for the Monster (S)mash from @quinnnfabrgay-writes and @hauntedhowlett! my prompt: tentacle monster!Din. 😏 thank you to @katareyoudrilling for beta-ing! 🧡

tags/warnings: spooky vibes, flirting, feelings and smut, canon-typical violence (with a bounty), this is a tentacle monster fic and there is smut, so keep that in mind, it's exactly what you think it is, kissing, grinding, fingering, but not with fingers, p-in-v sex, creampie, cuddling, manhandling, except not with hands, if you get my drift, pet names (cyar'ika, mesh'la, good girl), no mention of details for reader other than wearing clothes and being a mechanic

...

At first you thought the Razor Crest might be haunted.

It was the only thing that made any sense. 

Nothing seemed to stay where you put it. Your caf would move half a foot to the right when your back was turned. You’d put your spanner down and lose it, only to look for it and find it sitting atop a crate well out of reach. One morning you woke up and found all of your little trinkets next to your sleeping pad had been shuffled around. You’d squinted at them, suspicious, but none of them had moved again.

You started keeping a sharper eye on things, but you never caught even a glimpse of any movement.

Well. You never saw any of your stuff move, that is.

The first few times you saw… something, you brushed it off as your imagination. You’d probably just been in space too long, right? Trapped on the ship with nothing to look at. Seeing things in the shadows. 

But you would swear to it – something would move just out of the corner of your eye, but when you turned, nothing was there.

Nothing was ever there. Even though the movements sometimes seemed to happen just before you’d find that your stuff had moved around with no warning.

You were starting to question your sanity. You even asked Din if he ever had trouble finding anything on the ship, but he only shook his head. Ok, just a me-problem, then. 

It perplexed you and frustrated you. You found yourself staring at your belongings, tense, as if daring them to move. You were glaring at your ultrasound cleaner when you realized you had no idea how long you’d been doing it and maybe you needed to get out for a bit.

“Din?” you called, sticking your head out of the ‘fresher and looking around for him. 

He grunted from off to your left, but you couldn’t see him. 

“Can we stop somewhere, get some supplies? Before your next job.”

He grunted again, but you could tell he was agreeing that time. You smiled as you ducked back inside the ‘fresher, but the expression was short lived. 

Your ultrasound cleaner had moved three inches to the right. You would swear it. 

…

Din stopped on Hetzal Prime and you took advantage of the large market to stock up on everything you could think you might need, from bacta to fruit to the various bits and bobs you used to keep the Crest in good shape. Din accompanied you for a while before disappearing off into the market on his own.

The fresh air helped. You smiled as you took your time at each stall. When a light breeze rustled your clothing you almost laughed at yourself, thinking about how you’d become certain that the Crest was haunted. Outside on the warm streets of Hetzal Prime, your worries seemed distant.

As you approached the Crest, you smiled again as you walked up the ramp, excited to show Din what you’d found for him at the stall with leather goods. You could tell you were the first one back, though.

When you stepped inside, you stopped and looked around suspiciously. 

Nothing had moved. Everything was exactly where you’d left it. 

You narrowed your eyes as you looked around the ship. “Alright, you,” you said to the Crest, trailing your fingers along one of the walls of the cargo area. “What are you up to?”

The Crest didn’t answer, of course, but you found yourself suddenly on edge, anyway.

“Talking to the ship?” Din’s teasing tone announced his arrival and you turned around quickly, surprised to find him standing at the top of the ramp. 

“How do you always do that?” you said, a bit breathless.

He tilted his head at you. “Do what?”

You shook your head and laughed. “Sneak up on me! Kark, you’re so quiet.” You couldn’t see his face, of course, but something about the angle of his hip and shoulders made you certain he smirked in response. 

He pointed at himself. “Bounty hunter.”

You rolled your eyes and dug around in your bag for his gift. “Yeah, yeah. Ok, Mr. Sneaky Bounty Hunter, I got you something.”

Din took a step towards you. “You didn’t have to–”

“I know, Din,” you cut him off, “but look!” You held out the leather strapping you’d found at the market. “This would be perfect to fix your holster, right?”

He reached out to take the strapping with his left hand while his right dropped down to touch the holster in question, the one with the straps he’d had to reinforce with so much stitching it was more thread than leather, these days. It still looked like it might come apart if you so much as breathed wrong in its direction. 

But Din was still quiet, and you were starting to worry. 

“Din?” He looked up at you, finally and your eyes darted across his visor. “Is it–”

He cut you off by reaching out to grasp your upper arm with his right hand. “It’s perfect,” he murmured, squeezing your arm gently. “Thank you.”

You smiled at him. “Of course. I saw it and thought of your sad holster, I had to get it.” He snorted and squeezed your arm again before stepping around you and moving into the ship. As he did so his hand skimmed down your arm and lightly brushed over yours. You turned to follow him, but your attention was suddenly caught and you stopped. Something had just moved, over in the dark corner of the cargo area – you would swear to it.

“Did you…” you trailed off as Din turned back to look at you. “Did you see something move?”

He shook his head. “Just you.”

You rolled your eyes and brushed past him into the ship.

…

Later that night you laid out the facts in your mind as you stared at the ceiling of the cargo bay on your sleeping pad.

One: sometimes things in the Crest moved without you seeing them move.

Two: sometimes you thought – no, you knew – things would move just out of the corner of your eye, but you could never catch whatever it was in the act.

Three: nothing moved while you were off the ship.

What if the Crest isn’t haunted? you wondered as you started to drift off to sleep. What if it’s me?

…

When you woke the next morning, you were already far away from Hetzal Prime in hyperspace and on your way to Din’s next job. You realized you wouldn’t be able to test your theory that it was you that might be haunted while you were both stuck on the ship. (Not that you had any idea why – or by what – you might be haunted in the first place.)

By the time you reached Druckenwell, whatever was haunting the Crest – or you – was at it again. It seemed to follow you around the ship, just out of the corner of your eye, messing with you. In fact, you could have sworn that last night, just as you were falling asleep, you’d felt… something… brush lightly down your arm. You shivered, remembering. 

When Din came down the ladder, ready for his hunt, you were staring at the pad that had just completely flipped upside down on its own while your back was turned, lying innocently atop one of the crates. He stopped next to you and looked down.

“What are you doing?” he murmured, tilting his head to look at your face. 

You blinked. Oh, nothing, just staring at this inanimate object that I swear just moved on its own and losing my mind. “Nothing.” You turned towards him and looked him over. “How long do you think you’ll be gone?”

Din looked down and reached out to flip your pad right-side up. “No more than a few days. They track everybody's movements here, shouldn’t be too hard to find them.”

You nodded. “Alright. I’ll probably stay here.”

He reached out to grasp your forearm and you blinked again, surprised. “Please,” he murmured, turning towards you fully. “Stay on the ship. Alright? We’re not in the best part of town.”

You nodded. “I will, Din.” His shoulders lost some of their tension and you couldn’t help but smile at him. “I’ll be right here.”

Just a few moments later he was gone and you made sure to engage the ground defenses after the ramp came back up. You turned and leaned against it, surveying the cargo hold slowly. “Alright,” you said to the empty ship. “Let’s figure this out, once and for all.”

…

Nothing happened.

You moved through the ship on full alert, darting your eyes from corner to corner, shadow to shadow, looking for whatever had been haunting you for weeks now. You felt silly for carrying your spanner like a weapon as you did, but you couldn’t bring yourself to put it down, either.

But nothing moved.

It was almost too quiet, too still. Too normal. You realized, now that you were on the ship without it, that you’d gotten used to more than just your stuff moving around. Suddenly the shadows themselves seemed less dark, less deep. Too still. It took the change for you to notice but until now the shadows had seemed, well. Alive. You didn’t realize how often something aboard the ship made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up until whatever it was stopped doing it.

About 36 hours after Din left on his hunt you were lying on the floor of the cargo hold, exhausted from being so on edge, so intensely aware of your surroundings for so long. You stared at the ceiling, wondering if maybe you’d imagined all of it after all. It was possible, you supposed, that everything had moved because of… turbulence. Maybe space wind? Or something. 

Right? You glared into a shadowy corner, but nothing moved. It can’t all be in my head. You needed to sleep. Maybe this will all make more sense tomorrow. 

…

The next day, Din came back.

You were sitting in his seat, up in the cockpit, when your comm beeped. 

“It’s me,” he said, voice low. “I’m coming in. Wait.”

You leapt up, making your way over towards the ladder. When Din told you to wait, it meant he wanted you out of sight while he got the bounty into carbonite. You waited at the top of the ladder until you heard the hiss of the freezer.

“How’d it go?” you called as you slid down the ladder. You turned to look for Din and found him looking at you. You scanned him quickly but he didn’t look any worse for wear.

“Fine,” he nodded. “No trouble.”

You smiled at him. “Good. Where to next?” 

He brushed past you, moving towards the cockpit, and that’s when you saw it. Out of the corner of your eye, just there… you swore something moved in the shadows by the carbonite freezer. Something dark, darker than the shadows themselves. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end. 

But when you turned to look, nothing was there.

You shook your head, frowning, and turned to watch as Din disappeared at the top of the ladder. 

What if it wasn’t you that was haunted, or the Crest?

What if it was Din?

…

You spent the hours it took to get to your next stop, to the next bounty, studying Din. So much so that you were pretty sure he noticed, but he didn’t say anything.

It reminded you of the beginning of your partnership, when you’d first joined him on the Crest. You’d flirted with him, of course, almost from the moment you met. How could you resist? At first you’d even thought he was flirting back.

“Look,” he’d murmured, and you’d wondered if you were finally getting somewhere with this man you couldn't get out of your head. But he’d surprised you. “You don’t want this with me.”

You’d scoffed, disbelieving. “I know what I want, Mando.”

He’d sighed, and you could still remember how tired he’d sounded. How weary. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for. If you want to stay, this doesn’t happen.”

He’d sounded so certain, so firm. You didn’t know him well enough at the time to question it, and now? Now, when you were pretty sure you were actually in love with him?

Now all you wanted was to stay on the ship, and not get kicked off for flirting, of all things. Well, you also wanted to solve the mystery of whatever was haunting the ship. Or Din. 

And now you were staring at him, and even though you worried he might be getting the wrong idea, you couldn't bring yourself to stop.

…

On Socorro, Din asked you to stay on the ship again, and you agreed easily. You had some maintenance to do, after all, and you needed to see if your theory was right.

You realized almost immediately that it had to be.

Din stepped off the Crest, and the shadows… lessened. The darkness in the corners of the ship seemed lighter. Nothing moved, nothing shifted, nothing squirmed in the dark. 

It was Din, after all. 

You spent the next two days trying to figure out what to do about it.

…

You were standing in the cargo area when he came back. 

“It’s me,” he gasped over the comm, and you felt your heart start to race at the tension in his voice, at the way he was breathing so heavily. “Wait.”

You turned, ready to hide, but the cargo bay started opening before you could. You darted towards the ladder, trying to make yourself scarce, but it was too late.

“What’s this, Mando?” said a deep, snarling voice. You shuddered. “Got someone waiting at home, do you?”

You looked and saw Mando dragging a large Trandoshan up the ramp. The bounty snarled at you when you made eye contact. “She’s a pretty one, Mando.” Your back hit the ladder and you froze. 

Din growled. “Shut it,” he said, shoving the Trandoshan forward. But it seemed that’s what the other had been hoping for, because he used the momentum to fall forward, breaking Din’s hold on him. He flipped into a standing position and snarled again. 

The next few moments played out in flashes in your mind.

Din, tensing, readying himself to leap towards the bounty.

The Trandoshan, bending his knees, turning away from Din and towards you.

You, scrambling backwards as the Trandoshan launched himself through the air in your direction.

The sudden roar that ripped from Din startled you and tore your eyes from the bounty to him. 

And that’s when you saw it. Saw them. 

Faster than your eyes could register, shadows erupted around him. No, you realized, they were coming from Din. Smoky black tendrils, slithering from under his armor, snaking down his limbs and outward in every direction, so fast it was like a burst of light. In less time than it took you to fully register what was happening they covered the floor and the walls and sped inexorably towards the Trandoshan. 

He never reached you.

The shadows pulled at him, grasping, wrapping him up in a stranglehold. Your jaw dropped as the bounty’s forward motion was arrested, mid air, and you gasped as he was flung into the carbonite freezer. 

Your entire body was frozen as you watched, as you allowed your eyes to trail along the tendrils of shadows back to Din. Din, who was standing there, breathing hard, holding the bounty in place somehow, but staring directly at you.

“Din?” you whispered, but he looked away and pushed himself forward to freeze the bounty. 

You heard the hiss of the freezer and watched as the shadows started to snake backwards the way they’d come, along the walls and the floor, slithering back under his armor. You watched, transfixed, as he seemed to pull all of the shadows that had just covered the cargo area into himself. 

You stepped closer, mesmerized, and as one tendril passed you you felt it caress the back of your arm before it whipped away. 

You gasped. You knew that feeling. You’d felt it before. 

Din turned around to look at you again, and you noticed he started to reach for you but balled his hands into fists, instead. He looked away. You could see his tension in every line of his body. The last few tendrils were snaking back under his armor when you stepped forward and wrapped your hands around his.

“Din,” you said, voice full of wonder. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

He kept his head turned away as he shook it. 

“Din,” you said, insistent. “Look at me.”

He did, slowly. 

“Is this…” you took a deep breath. “Is this why—“

He nodded once, sharp. You stepped closer. 

“Din,” you murmured, reaching up to cup the side of his helmet in your hand. “I’m not afraid of you.”

He sucked in a sharp breath. “You should be. Cyar’ika—“

“Listen to me,” you said, interrupting him. “I’m not. So this is why? Because you’ve been hiding this from me?”

Din gave in, finally, and reached forward to grasp your hips in his large hands. You could feel them shaking. He nodded again. 

“Don’t,” you whispered. “Don’t hide from me.” You tried to meet his eyes through the visor and hoped, like you always did, that you were successful.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for.” Din’s voice was gravely and rough. 

“I’m asking for you, Din.” You slid your hands up his arms and behind his neck. “Just you.”

He shuddered and let his helmet gently bump against your forehead. “I want to. But–”

You shook your head. “Trust me, Din.” You stepped forward until you were pressed against him completely. “Don’t hide from me.”

For a moment he didn’t respond, and you started to worry that he would pull away from you after all. 

But then he groaned and surged forward, wrapping his arms around you before spinning you and pinning you to the wall of the Crest.

“You have no idea how much I’ve wanted this,” he said, voice deep and dark. You shivered. His hands found your hips again and squeezed. “Wanted you, cyar’ika.”

“Din–” you cut yourself off on a gasp when you felt it. Felt him.

First, the gentlest touch to your wrists. They snaked up your arm and you closed your eyes, lost to the feeling of what you now knew was Din touching you in a way you’d never been touched before.

“Hey,” he said, voice soft. “Look at me. Are you–”

You opened your eyes, and you knew what Din must have seen in them when he growled. 

“Din,” you breathed, feeling hot all over. “More.”

He loomed forward, pinning you harder against the wall of the ship. You felt light touches start to brush against your legs and then your neck. You sighed.

Din’s hand came up to cup your cheek and he tilted your face towards the light. You felt him watching you as you panted. “You like this?” he asked. He sounded stunned.

You nodded. He tightened the grip of the tendril around the back of your neck and you gasped. 

“You like this,” he growled, and then the ship was suddenly plunged into darkness when the lights went out. 

You opened your mouth to protest, but stopped when you heard the unmistakable hiss of his helmet seal releasing. 

“Din?” You breathed, and when he spoke you actually moaned at the sound of his unmodulated voice. 

“I’ll make it so good for you, cyar’ika.” Without warning you felt his lips touch your throat and you gasped. “Let me touch you.”

“Please.”

His hands didn’t move but you suddenly felt him everywhere. Soft touches trailed up your thighs and down to your ankles, wrapped around your back and caressed your neck. You felt one trace your cheekbone and sighed. 

“So soft,” he murmured, face buried in your neck. You felt what had to be a mustache tickle you and smiled. “Everywhere. Just like I knew you would be.”

“Can you—“ you gasped when you felt a tendril snake under your shirt and up your spine. “Can you feel? With them?”

Din nodded into your neck. “Not as much as— it’s not the same. Just… textures. And temperature.”

You marveled at that for a moment. “Din,” you said, and he lifted his head. You couldn’t see him in the dark but you imagined he was looking at you. “I want to feel you everywhere.”

He surged forward and captured your mouth in a searing kiss that took your breath away. 

You’d never been kissed like this. You felt his lips and his hands but then you felt them everywhere else, too. Head spinning, you sank into the feeling of being so firmly held in so many new ways. 

Din broke away and started pressing soft kisses along your jaw that made you sigh. You realized your hands were clutching his cape and let it go, sliding your hands upwards. 

“Your armor,” you murmured. But you stilled when your hands didn’t find anything but flightsuit. “Did you–”

“Yes,” he said, and you could hear his smile. “Faster with a little help.”

You smiled, too. You hadn’t even noticed him taking it off. Your hands continued their slide upwards until you reached his neck. “Can I…”

“You can touch me wherever you want,” Din said, voice low. “I want you to.”

Permission granted, you slid your hands into his hair, marveling at the feeling of touching something you’d never seen. 

“I want you to touch me, too, Din,” you said, and smiled when running your fingers through his hair made him shiver. You felt more tendrils start to snake under your shirt and obligingly lifted your arms. Soon, so quickly it took your breath away, you were standing in the dark in nothing but your underwear with a tall, strong, naked Mandalorian backing you into the wall of the ship.

Din kissed you again, and your mind floated away as he touched you. His hands were on your hips but soft touches, soft but firm, held you everywhere. They snaked across your back, tangled around your legs, twisted between your fingers until you didn’t know where you stopped and he began.

A sudden firm touch broke through the overwhelming onslaught of Din as one lone tendril snaked around your torso and teased at your underwear. You broke away from the kiss and gasped. 

“I’ll make you feel so good, cyar’ika,” he murmured, pressing kisses along your jaw.

“Please,” you breathed, and he smiled against your cheek. Your head was spinning at the knowledge that he was touching you there, slipping closer, while his hands hadn't moved. “Din–” It started with a gentle touch over your underwear, nothing like anything you’d ever felt before. It teased at you, stroking so lightly it made you start to tremble. 

You felt your heart race even faster as you tried to split your attention between all the ways he was touching you. His hands held you firmly by your hip and neck while the tendril slipped inside the band of your underwear and downwards, making you gasp. You threw your head backwards as it started to tease at your slit and only the firm grip of Din’s hand on the back of your neck kept you from hitting it against the wall of the ship. 

The tendril slipped inwards and you whined.

Din began to worry a mark into your shoulder as a soft, unfamiliar touch began to circle your clit. Just as you began to catch your breath, a second one slipped inside of your underwear and began to tease around your entrance.

“Din,” you breathed, and he smiled against your neck. “Please.”

“Mmm,” he replied, and you could hear the amusement in it. “Please what, cyar’ika?” He slid his hand from your hip to ass and gripped it firmly, tugging your hips forward to meet his own. 

“In–” your breath hitched as the tendril that had not let up on your clit, not even for a second, pressed down a bit more firmly. “Inside.” 

Din nipped at your neck as he began to push your underwear down. “My hands are a little busy.” He squeezed the back of your neck and let your underwear fall around your feet.

Your cheeks and neck and chest began to burn with the knowledge of what you were about to say. “Not with your fingers.” Your voice was so tentative, so breathy, it was a wonder it came out at all. 

Din stilled, just for a moment, and then surged forward to claim your mouth in a fierce kiss. When he spoke, his voice was almost a growl. “Good girl.” 

You felt some of the tendrils that had been lightly teasing your thighs suddenly surge upwards and you gasped. Gently but firmly they parted your folds and held you open as a few more tendrils joined the one teasing at your entrance. You shivered.

“Right here?” Din murmured into your ear. “Is this what you want?” One of the tendrils pushed inside, just a bit, and you clutched at his shoulders. He used his free hand to lift your leg around his waist. “Tell me.”

You nodded. “Din, yes, please. Inside.” 

He started with one. It pushed its way inside you slowly and sent your mind spinning. It moved so differently than anything you’d ever felt before, so agile, so soft. A second one quickly followed and they began twisting together inside of you in a way that took your breath away.

It took you a moment to realize Din was still murmuring in your ear. “You feel so good, mesh’la. So warm. So soft.” He pressed soft kisses behind your ear as a third tendril joined the others and you moaned at the stretch. “So good for me.”

You lost track of time as he toyed with your clit and filled you in a way you’d never been filled before. You had no idea how much of him was inside of you, only that it felt perfect and delicious, particularly when he began to massage the spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Din,” you said, thrusting your hips forward. You could feel it building inside of you. There wasn’t a single inch of your skin he hadn’t touched yet and it was filling you in a way you never knew you needed. 

You whined as you felt it nearing and Din nipped at your ear in response. “Let go for me, cyar’ika. Let go.”

You did, and the pleasure rushed through you like an avalanche, building from the base of your spine, spiraling upwards until it overflowed from you in a gasp. He worked you through it, praising you, until you began to relax in his arms.

Din released his grip on your neck suddenly, but before you could even begin to make a sound mourning its loss, he used it to grab your other leg and wrap it around his waist, pinning you to the wall. His cock was suddenly pressed against you, right where his tendrils still held you open, and you moaned. 

You felt him start to pull out, his tendrils dragging lightly inside of you, and whined in protest. 

“Shh,” he said, kissing you quickly. The tendrils held you open once more and he thrust forward until his cock was sliding against your open, wet pussy. “I’ve got you.”

On his next thrust, the head of his cock notched against your entrance and you sucked in a sharp breath. You could feel his tendrils guiding him in as he slid forwards, pressing onwards until he was fully inside of you. Even after the way he’d just opened you up the stretch was amazing.

He paused for a moment, and you realized you were both breathing heavily and quickly. “Can I–”

“Move,” you interrupted him, and with a full-body shudder, he did.

Starting slow and building to a rhythm that took your breath away, Din began to move his hips. As he thrust forward again, the tendrils caressed you, all over your body. A few of them left cool, wet marks across your skin and you shivered with the knowledge of where they had been.

You yanked his head up by his hair and even though you couldn’t see him, you pulled him forward into a kiss.

Din groaned into your mouth and you clutched at him, thrusting your hips forward to meet his. The tendril that had again started circling your clit began to move just right, and you almost sighed into his mouth, jaw falling slack.

“Din, I–” you were building towards your peak again, somehow, and like he could tell, his hips began to move faster.

He nipped at your bottom lip. “Yes, cyar’ika,” he breathed. “Come for me.”

Once more, you couldn’t help but do as he said. It felt like being pulled over a cliff, floating through the air with him supporting you everywhere, tendrils gliding along your skin and holding you up. You’d never felt anything like it, this full-body caress that held you firmly as you fell. You cried out his name and his hips stuttered once, twice, before he followed you over.

…

In the time it took for your breath to come back, Din maneuvered you both onto your cot and replaced his helmet, so he could turn the lights back on. You let yourself drift as you cuddled into his side, but as comfortable and sated as you were, you couldn’t turn off your curiosity.

“Can I–”

He laughed, and you smiled into his chest. “Ask.”

You weren’t sure where to start, so you went with the basics. “Do they… come from somewhere?”

Din hummed. “Not… physically.” He tugged you closer and you went easily. “I sort of think of them as shadows. Part of my shadow.”

“Have you always had them?”

He nodded as two tendrils started to stroke along your arm. “My parents – my actual parents – taught me to hide them. So I did, even from the Mandalorians. I could tell, even there, that there was no one else like me.”

You tightened your arm around his middle. You had the sudden urge to go back in time and hug little Din. 

“You know, you said no flirting, but I don’t think they got the message.” You looked down at where two shadowy tendrils were lightly tracing shapes along your naked thigh, the one you had thrown over his hip that Din held in a firm grip with his left hand. You could feel a tendril wrapping itself around your ankle while another wound around your waist. Each one left goosebumps in its wake and you shivered at the delicious feeling of all the ways he was touching you. 

He sighed. “I know,” he said, tone wry. “I was trying to stay away, but I’m too used to being alone on the ship. Not worrying about hiding it here. I know where everything is. And then every time I thought about you…” he ran his right hand up your spine and squeezed your thigh with the other. “I was trying so hard not to flirt or catch your attention that I ended up doing… all of that. I had no idea what to do, I was so afraid of you figuring it out. I’m pretty sure I even moved some of your stuff in my sleep.”

You laughed and propped your chin on your hand, leaning on his chest to look at his visor. “Wait,” you said, suddenly realizing what he’d said. “So you can be sitting up in the cockpit and move something down here?”

He nodded, rubbing his hand up and down your back. “I know this ship too well. It’s easier here.”

You bit your lip. You wanted… your next thought felt illicit, even after everything you’d just done together. You wanted to squeeze your thighs together and squirmed against him instead. 

He noticed, of course. “What?” He sounded amused.

“I just… if you can reach me, from all the way up there…” you knew he could see what you wanted. It had to be written all over your face. 

His grip on your thigh tightened. You grinned when he growled. Suddenly the lights flicked off, and you knew he must have done it without you noticing. You heard the hiss of his helmet release and realized neither of his hands had moved from your body. 

You shivered at the desire in his voice, once you could hear it unfiltered. “Oh, cyar’ika,” he murmured, and you felt hundreds of soft, barely there touches ease you into position straddling his hips. “Let me show you."

...

a/n: 👀

[kedsandtubesocks]

Hold On, Hold On

pairing: Cowboy!Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

summary: Your cowboy leaves for another bounty and you face how fragile a home can be

wc: 4.7k

warnings: 18+ only. MDNI, old west AU, semi established relationship, violence and town in peril, deep yearning, light angst but happy ending, heavy make-out session that gets a bit heated and spicy at the end

a/n: this is based off the season 3 episode ‘the pirate’ except with bandits lol, the title of this is from another neko case song of the same name (no surprise) I have a whole little collection of Cowboy Din pieces but this works as a good stand alone! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy & biggest thank you to my cowgal forever @skeletoncowboys this is for you I love ya

The wilderness calls to your bounty hunting cowboy once again.

“Don’t know how long this one is going to take. So I’m having the kid come with me.” Din tells you, his black bandana covering his face.

As much as you understand, an ache swells through your chest fast.

Would this be the last time you saw him? Saw either of your boys that have become beautiful fixtures in your life?

Something as dangerous as a storm rips through your mind. This all is temporary and you knew that.

Nothing is sure or set in stone with a man who chases after demons in the desert.

Din’s occupation as a bounty hunter meant he jumped around from town to town, never settling in a place for too long. Even with a ward in his care, you understood there was no need for him to grow roots in a particular community.

The only reason why he often brought his bounties here was because the mayor of your town was a previous member of the same bounty hunting guild Din is in. You never even knew bounty hunters held guilds. But that is the life you are wading through now.

It’s the life that’s led you to this, to seeing Din and the baby off on their journey.

You kiss the kid goodbye. His sweet pudgy cheeks puff up so warmly when he smiles at you.

“Keep an eye on your dad, little bug,” you tell the baby as you poke his sweet little nose. He giggles and it’s a sound you will treasure.

“Alright kid, let’s go.” Din croaks low as he shifts the baby up into his arms.

You haven’t been able to look Din in the eyes since he announced his departure. You don’t even know why this particular trip is affecting you so much.

“I packed a few extra slices of bread.” You explain rapidly. “And I know you’re still upset that I’m having you take one of my quilts but trust me, I’d rather you two have it-“

He cuts off your rambling quietly with the soft whisper of your name. It strikes fast like lightning shot through your spine.

Now you can’t help but turn your gaze up to him.

The whispers around this man painted him to be an omen because you could never see his eyes.

That part is true. The shadow of Din’s hat casts a deep shadow heavily blocking any chance of getting a good look at him in the eye. Then his bandana completely hides him from the nose down. At times he truly exists as a faceless phantom, a wandering ghost that has now found residence in your heart’s chambers.

But right now, this phantom stares directly at you and you can clearly see the eyes of this righteous man.

You’ve seen his face, kissed his soft lips. But his eyes…

Those rich soil eyes hold so much emotion and now hold your entire soul captive in their gaze.

You say nothing, don’t even know what to tell him.

A goodbye feels too simple. A please come home safe doesn't sound true because was this really his home?

Would this ever be his home?

And could you ever house a man as wild as a tumbleweed?

“Thank you.” Din speaks first. However, that simple thank you is all he says.

Your arms ache to embrace him. Your lips wish you were brave enough to yank the cloth across his face down to kiss him with every inch of your love.

He suddenly nods at you and you only nod back.

Without another word Din jumps onto his horse. The animal, which you believe hates you, now lets you softly pet him. You wish you could appreciate this small step but heaviness clogs your heart too much for any other emotion to pass.

The baby makes a soft whimper and both you and Din snap your attention to him. With his chubby sweet little fingers, your little bug simply waves a sad soft thing at you. He’s so smart, the kid, and you swallow back hard as you wave back. Your eyes return to Din.

The shade of his hat now has you searching harder for his eyes.

This time you can’t find them.

Nothing else is said.

Din simply kicks his heels against his horse and then begins a slow ride away.

No breeze of the wind carries them. This time it is only the stillness of the desert. For some reason, as you watch them dwindle further and further away, the stillness scares you more.

Summer beats down an unforgiving heat.

The air gets thick with the dry dust and you’re thankful for the cool nights that settle in. The early evening breeze from the open window already feels refreshing as you finish buying a few provisions from the commissary.

The clerk, an older man whose wife you are fond of, gently says your name hesitantly. His eyes are even a bit nervous and you ready yourself for whatever he asks.

“What…whatever happened to that young babe you had with you?”

You had previously been in the store many times with the baby happily cuddled in your arms. You used to cover him with a small light quilt to keep him safe from any curious eyes. You didn’t want them recognizing him if they saw the baby with your bounty hunter. But of course, the sight of you suddenly with a new babe did spark a few curious conversations.

Now your lips twitch but out of a fondness soaked in an aching sadness.

You haven't seen your boys for three months.

It’s the longest they’ve ever been gone. Not even a letter has been sent your way. But then again, you don’t take Din as one to write letters. The panic, the sleepless nights worrying if they were alright, all those emotions bleed into a numbness now. You simply wade through it all like trying to find an exit out of a sandpit slowly sinking you.

Swallowing the canyon sized lump in your throat, you simply give a brave false smile to the clerk staring so worried now.

You remember once jokingly telling him you had grown the baby in your garden. After all, you had first found the little terror eating your carrots.

“The wind swept him away from me,” you reply and you even hear the hollowness you cannot hide in your tone.

The clerk curiously frowns confused but his eyes seem to read past your brave face. He comfortingly pats your hand still on the counter and wishes you a safe walk back to your cabin.

With a grateful small grin you move to head out of the store.

Then the air bursts with a violent and loud crack.

Bandits are not a new occurrence to you or to the town. Once in a blue moon, a couple of them would arrive, make a ruckus at the saloon or unfortunately leave the town with more than they came with.

But the bandits arriving now come in a wave, like a mass of locust swarming in so fast you didn’t have time to think. And you didn’t. The explosion comes and you and the clerk give each other a petrified look before dashing outside.

Smoke rises from the edge of town and your heart sinks horrified at the chaos quickly consuming. The raiders ride in fast. The sticks of dynamite in their hand speak of a sinister threat of what was to come if anyone tries to stop them.

You move fast, trying to help your dear clerk to his house to be with his wife. You try to keep low. But when you are up against a swarm, it’s hard to outrun their staggering numbers.

Anywhere you turn the raider’s sinisters faces laugh proud and wild from on top of their horses. Some of them even chase on foot like released devils. It’s a bedlam choking your throat in panic.

Leave. You have to leave, find shelter or at least hide in your home.

Thankfully a group of you, including Mayor Karga, band together and flee fast from the town out past the outskirts. You all make camp on a secluded hillside that overlooks the town.

In the dead of night, the town illuminates a destructive crimson that has your legs wanting to give out.

“Don’t worry everyone!” Karga with his steady leveled heads guidance calls out in the night to you and the others townsfolk. “Before we evacuated I sent a telegram to my best man! He will come!”

For some reason your mind immediately flashes to Din.

You almost want to laugh. Of course your love sick heart would clutch onto the idea of him during a perilous moment of turmoil. He was a known fighter, though you had never seen him in combat. But a sharp internal voice striking as sharp as a rattlesnake tells you not to put your faith in bounty hunters.

Not even Din.

You squeeze away the tears clouding up your eyes and try to sleep alone under the desert’s ever watchful eye.

Staring up at the clear beautiful sky, you watch as the stars twinkle down below.

There were children’s tales about wishing on stars, on how seeing one fly across the sky was the reminder of how quick and fast wishes come. You remember even telling that story to your favorite little carrot stealing bug.

Emotions clog your throat even more at the thought of the baby and his father.

Something in you whispers to make a wish. That maybe at this hour of feeling so lost, a wish is all you have.

But again, wishing on stars, wishing for bounty hunters to make a miraculous return from the horizon, is for children. And you are too old to hold onto wishes when your town faces a real chaos that wishes might not be able to maybe save.

A day passes among the hills.

The next day, talk bubbles among some of the townsfolk to try and take the county back. But even you know the ammunition would not withstand the sheer force of the bandits.

And the bandits are apparently a stubborn group.

Their leader, a terrifying man with a wild beard by the name of Gorian Shard, announces with a loud voice to Karga they will never leave.

“A fair retribution for you not serving my men and then discovering your precious bounty hunter killed more of my comrades!”

Your heart again jumps at the thought of it being Din.

But your mind races to the worst possibilities. Did he encounter these raiders and not make it out alive? What about the baby?

You refuse to let yourself dwindle on those thoughts. You can’t. You have to find a way to keep moving, find a way out of this situation.

The townsfolk grow restless and worried, more so than you.

“Now everyone please, just hold on. I know help is on the way!” Karga urges, a voice of reason and faith. It settles everyone enough as another night among the wilderness arrives.

This time clouds cluster in the skies above and hide the stars. You think it’s fitting as you go to sleep with tears in your eyes.

You think of Kargas words, the idea of holding onto faith. You suppose even now a part of you still greedily clutches onto a last bit of hope that you’ll see your cowboy again.

You glance up at the cloudy sky again.

Even though there are no stars out, your heart now sends out a whisper of a wish. It’s a simple one.

What else do you have to lose making a wish now?

So you wish for safety - for you, for the town, and for your two boys that you hope more than ever are alive.

Soft low mummering wakes you up. Above stretches a soft periwinkle blue morning sky. When you rise you find so many staring down towards the town.

When you go to see what has everyone in a commotion, your breath gets snatched right out of your chest.

Din is fast on his horse.

He moves rapidly between the buildings and among the shadows that you believe you might have just imagined him.

But then, he swiftly rides out from a sharp corner and shoots three bandits down.

The towns people cry in absolute cheer but your eyes are on the cowboy moving like a phantom. It really is him.

Din.

He’s not alone though. More riders move in to take down the bandits but everyone including yourself focus on the mystery rider.

“Isn’t that the man with no eyes!? The one with the face you can’t even see?” Someone whispers.

“No…can’t be.” Another voice argues.

Karga suddenly chuckles, warm and reassured. “Trust me, my friends. That is indeed the same bounty hunter. He’s ours.”

A sharp flash of possessiveness rises.

You want to correct the Mayor and say he’s yours. That bounty hunter is your bounty hunter, the one who’s son eats from your garden, the bounty hunter who’s favorite fruit is oranges, whose face you knew and existence is now carved a deep cavern in your heart.

Din.

Your bounty hunter.

He’s a wonder to watch in action. Smooth, swift, firing with precision and maneuvering with an almost grace.

Your throat goes dry thinking of how strong this cowboy is the same one who once got flustered when he told you he can’t dance.

The bandits are effortlessly taken down by Din and the reinforcements he brought. Peace returns with the warm dawn. A beautiful relieved joy bursts through the crowd as everyone starts the descent back to the town. Your legs barely carry you but you eventually find yourself there among your town.

Rubble lines the streets. A few shops including the cantina took the worst damage. A steady rebuild is already being discussed among the townsfolk but your attention rests entirely on the black bandana wearing man.

He’s alive.

The baby sits cozy in his arms, smiling as bright as a new sun. Your mind can’t even process the thought of Din riding into battle with the kid.

Then a woman walks towards him.

Her gait is steady, confident. When she removes her hat to wipe her face, striking auburn colored hair falls from under her hat. She is lovely and it dawns on you that she was with the reinforcements.

You can’t help but admire her for being a part of the group who help liberate and retrieve your home. But when she moves closer to talk to Din, even playfully smiles at the baby, your heart starts deflating.

Soon Karga walks forward to speak to the hunters and the townspeople.

The entire time he talks you stay hidden against the shadow of a building, watching. The woman stands next to Din the entire time and grins so fondly. That look only intensifies when she goes to stare at him. Her eyes are molten and when Din turns back to her, he nods.

You hate that you cannot see his eyes.

The wilderness is not a forgiving thing. It brings in many travelers that simply come and go and it seems Din might be one of them. Because of course he would be close with another, a true cowgirl who can handle the wilderness and his ever changing lifestyle.

He never mentioned another woman in his life, but you suppose you wouldn’t either if you were in his position.

You wonder now if your existence to him was a simple way to pass the time, if you were just a quiet pit stop not ever meant to hold him for long. You try not to let these acidic jealous thoughts poison you, but it’s too late.

Before Din can turn to look towards the crowd, you turn on your heels and walk away against the shadows of the building.

You go to help the clerk, his sweet wife clean up the shop as best as you can.

“I wonder if the bounty hunter we’ve seen around here with the black bandana is handsome?” The clerk’s wife offers trying to lighten the space and her husband chuckles.

You stay quiet while your heart whispers out that yes, that bounty hunter is quite handsome.

When exhaustion mixes too dangerously with the heartbreak still brimming in your body, you decide to slip home.

You don’t even realize how long this day has been until you step out of the shop and find the sun already making her way to bed over the horizon.

It's comforting in a strange way.

The sun will rise again tomorrow, a new day, and so will you. You will move on.

You walk forward, straight out of the town and to the outskirts to where your cabin sits. You want to cry seeing your home thankfully still standing. A few animals are gone. Some crops and even stored goods from the shed have been stolen. The inside of your house is a ransacked clutter.

In the stillness, among the settled destruction, quiet tears sting your eyes.

You don’t know if it’s from the exhaustion of these past few days or the ache knowing your bounty hunter might be taken away from you by something fiercer than the wilderness.

He’s alive, your heart whispers.

You got your wish.

And that is true, but heavens above the truth hurts a violent ache.

Footsteps against the porch outside make you jump and whip around to stare from inside your house. There against your open doorway stands a beautiful shadow.

“Din…” Your voice even sounds hollow saying his name.

He pulls his mask down. His stunning handsome face stares at you wide as if you’re the phantom. Then he moves with a blinding speed you witnessed against the bandits.

In quick steps he is suddenly before you and then, you are in his arms.

He smells of gunpowder, sweat and something faintly him. It’s intoxicating and you can’t even stop yourself. Your arms wrap around him tight.

He breathes your name out and you think it might even sound like a shaken watery prayer.

“I didn’t see you among the others and I thought…I thought the worst, honey.” Din speaks with a heavy tone as thick as a torn bush.

That sweet but cursed nickname ignites a tender warmth through your body.

“I did too, about you.” You reply back small and in a waterlogged voice. “Haven’t seen you in months and I thought…”

You can’t even utter the words.

You instead simply allow yourself this moment to hold him tight.

“I know.” Din answers low. “The job took a lot longer than I thought. I’m sorry.”

“But then Karga sent me that ‘gram.” His voice steels hard.

So, it was him that Karga was speaking about.

“And I had to come back.” Din breathes out and squeezes you in his arms. His face even burrows against the top of your head and your eyes go wide.

Quietly your mind conjures up the image of the beautiful woman with the sunset colored hair and your eyes go misty.

So many emotions swirl in you that you can’t even swim against their tides to steady yourself.

A soft coo comes from the door now and instantly you and Din pull away from each other. Waddling in with wide eyes is the baby.

Without hesitation you leave Din’s arms to rush to the kid who once he sees you lights up. Then his arms reach out wide and grabby towards you. So effortlessly you scoop the little critter in your arms and pepper kisses across his face.

His sweet little coos twinkle like the sweetest wind chime.

“You came back just to eat more of my veggies didn’t you, little bug?” You laugh watery as the baby giggles so bright.

For the rest of the evening the little babe stays cozy in your arms refusing to leave even as you and Din slowly start cleaning up the cabin.

It’s a slow, quiet process.

Neither of you ask how the other is, how the other has been these missing months. The tension in the air clouds with a thickness you don’t know how to navigate.

Eventually the baby falls asleep quickly and happily snuggled in the makeshift bed.

Exhausted and in a type of trance all you can do is plop yourself on the edge of your porch. Din with his boots echoing on the wood quietly moves to sit beside you.

“Are you alright?” Din surprisingly speaks first in a comforting and low tone.

“Yeah it’s just��� it’s been a long day.” It’s been a long couple of days, a couple of months and now, your ghost is materialized beside you.

“I bet.” Din comforts you so gently. “Don’t worry. We’ll get this place back to the way it was, honey.”

We will.

He included himself in those plans.

“You don’t have to stay too long,” but you reply low into the early evening air. “I understand your work keeps you busy and…”

The words become barbed and cut your throat on the way out.

“I know you had to come back because Karga sent out that distress signal. But I know this isn’t your home.”

Bounty hunters don’t stay in one place for long. He’s teaching you that.

And besides, what home could you truly give him?

The one you have now needs major repairs from the damage done by the bandits. Even before then your life compared to his is a simple mundane quietness that he might grow bored of.

Among the wilderness, the mirage is a sea of deception. It distorts the landscape before your eyes and for some reason that has you thinking of the times Din has returned to you from other jobs. You suppose that is what happened with you and Din. You wandered too deep into an unbelievable daydream and got stuck in the mirage, in the illusion of building a life with this man.

Din is still so far away, just out of your reach shimmering in the distance and untouchable.

After all, your bounty hunter is considered a ghost.

“I…” Din’s voice catches on itself and when you turn to him, the look on his face breaks your soul. His deep soil eyes are glossy, soaked with tears. His mouth opens in a sad frown.

Din swallows hard. Then his gorgeous sun kissed features frown even as confusion flickers in his gaze.

“I did come back for Karga, yes. But I came back because my home was in danger. Because you were in danger.”

His voice is clouded with conviction but running through it is an undercurrent of hurt.

Tears start to stream down your cheeks as free as rivers while you stare at him.

“You had to come home.” You croak the words out and a wild adoration resonates through your body.

Din nods firm, resolved.

You don’t know who moves first, who strikes first, but it doesn’t matter. The two of you are clutching each other and Din’s mouth kisses yours with the same wild power he shows in combat. He’s unrelenting and desperate but you suppose so are you.

The nights were long alone with your hand and simply thinking of his broad back, his beautiful thick neck, the feeling of his strong hands against you. And now, he is real solid flesh and blood beneath your fingertips. His tongue licks into your mouth trying to taste and consume everything you have. Your hands run to his hair and softly his hat falls away leaving you the bare face bounty hunter who you love entirely.

You clutch onto his shoulders and suddenly pull him close not even caring where you are.

Your back hits against the wood of the porch as Din leans down above. Din groans loud when his lips kiss your neck tasting the salt of your skin. Your eyes close in bliss.

He kisses a fiery path down your neck to your shoulders.

“Can I remove this, honey?” His voice is a debauched croak as he tugs at your garment blouse. Those deep eyes of his peer up at you beautiful fathomless abyss you want to fade into. Once you nod quickly he slips your blouse down exposing your chest to the evening air.

You wonder if a wild spirit has possessed you to let Din do this on your front porch but you embrace it. Especially when his tongue begins circling your nipple. Your mouth presses tight to and not let a whine escape you.

He suddenly kisses your breast with tenderness. He’s soft and lets his tongue trace a mindless path against your skin. It makes your body melt. Then he wraps his lips around your nipple and sucks loudly.

Your body leans up trying to get closer to him, trying to grind against any part of him, to get relief.

Din becomes a man possessed himself, licking and sucking both of your breasts until saliva coats them both

You sigh his name to the wind.

He finally draws back to stare down at you. He has never looked more beautiful. His eyes are completely blown out like a moonless night staring at you with pure devotion.

You lean up kiss him not even caring at how cold the air is against your bare chest. You need to be near him, need to consume him as much as he’s already consuming you.

Then the crunch of footsteps on the gravel approaches.

The sound galvanizes you both in a frenzy.

You rapidly yank your blouse up. Din effortlessly leans across you fast, almost covering you, as he whips to face forward. You realize it’s a type of protective move that makes your heart swell.

“I hope I’m not interrupting.” A woman’s voice arrives amused.

Now scrambling up, you gently move Din away. There standing a few feet away from the entrance to the porch is the woman with the sunset hair.

She grins a coy knowing thing and your heart drops.

You stare at her petrified. She simply grins warmer. Then she winks at you before turning her gaze to Din.

“I just wanted to let you know that myself and a few others are heading back to camp. Don’t want to keep my dear wife waiting too long after all.” She chuckles. “I’m assuming you’ll be staying here.”

Wait, wife? Confusion creeps in hearing her words.

“Yes.” Din replies with a curt nod.

“I figured.” The woman smiles and then flickers her attention back to you. With a poised warm expression she nods to you and you nod back, a bit stunned.

“Take care Din, enjoy your time back home. We’ll see you soon.” She says with a deep kindness and you don’t miss the way she phrases Din being back home.

“You as well Bo.” He bids her goodbye.

The woman, Bo, gives you a final warm grin and then walks to her horse you can spot faintly in the darkness.

“Who was that?” You have to ask.

“A good friend. She’s married to my people’s blacksmith. The two of them were the ones who rallied the reinforcements that helped me today.” Din explains simply.

Your eyes go wide. All the jealousy feels embarrassing now and you want to bring that woman back so you can both thank her and apologize.

“I’ll have to thank her and the others soon.” You mutter and Din hums a quiet agreeing noise.

“I would be honored to introduce you to them.” Din affirms.

The confusion you had quickly turns into a slight amusement tickling your lips and a small giggle even almost escapes you.

This day has been a whirlwind finally setting you down on your feet and now here you are, with your cowboy.

So you slide closer to him on the patio and curl your arms around his torso. Your body leans and curls against his back.

Closing your eyes, you burrow your face against Din’s strong solid frame. The fabric of his under shirt smells faintly of sunlight and something uniquely Din.

You kiss his back with the gentlest of pressure and Din draws your arms around him closer. He exhales a deep sigh you feel being so close against him.

A soft summer breeze of the desert breathes new life through the air.

“We’ll have to fix the fence tomorrow.” Din quietly notes and you hum in agreement.

There was much work to do. You even dread for a split moment thinking of all the work that has to be done in the heat tomorrow. But you also imagine the baby wandering around babbling so sweetly as he wears Din’s way too big hat…

And Din being by your side every step.

You squeeze him tighter, a silent apology for ever doubting this incredible force of a man.

“Welcome home.” You whisper to him.

Din’s hand squeezes yours.

“Yeah…M’home, honey.”

In your arms, you have caught a phantom of the wilderness and you plan to hold onto him as long as you can.

[thearoacefromspace]

Happy Aromantic Awareness Week 💚🤍🩶🖤

Here’s some of my aspec headcanons that I will DIE with :)

Obi Wan Kenobi is demisexual and demiromantic (Star Wars)

Anakin Skywalker is demiromantic (Star Wars)

Ahsoka Tano is aroace (Star Wars)

Luke Skywalker is aroace (Star Wars)

Din Djarin is aroace (Star Wars)

Shuri is aroace (MCU)

Yelena Belova is aroace (MCU)

Loona is cupioromantic (Helluva Boss)

Elsa is aroace (Disney)

Merida is aroace (Disney)

Moana is aroace (Disney)

Percy Jackson is demiromantic and demisexual (Percy Jackson)

Leo Valdez is aroace (Percy Jackson)

Reyna Ramírez-Arellano is aroace (Percy Jackson)

Thalia Grace is aroace (Percy Jackson)

Sirius Black is aroace (Harry Potter)

Storm is aroace (Survivors)

Lynn Loud Jr. is aroace (Loud House)

Nimona is aroace (Nimona)

Clawdeen is aroace (Monster High)

Toph Beifong is aroace (ATLA)

[the-mandawhor1an]

Hey peeps

I survived

and so did @zaddymandalorian

Maia and Din forever 🩶💜

I had to

can we also talk about how good the image quality on my new camera is? 😭😭😭

[dindjarindiaries]

Me the next time I see Din Djarin on screen, whether it’s tonight or in 2 years

[duralp-99]

🩶ES-SELÂM🩶 EY KİMSESİZ, YETİM, ÖKSÜZ 🥀•••• ÇOCUKLARIM ••••🥀

NARİN'İN KÖYÜNDE;

•••✍️ Narin'in köyünde cami de var, minare de.. Hatta Kuran Kursu bile var. ▪️Ama imam dahil hiç kimse konuşmuyor. Herkes Allah'tan değil "amca"dan korkuyor. ▪️ Yıkın o zaman camiyi de, minareyi de... Kuran kursunu da yakın!.. ▪️Allah korkusu olmayana din de gerekmez, kitap da, peygamber de... Alper Aksoy

😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢🗣️Herkeste Aziz Nesin’in vicdanından olsaydı keşke.! 😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢😢

🗣️YAZIK BİZE, VAH BİZE!

[jreads]

Unexpected Constellations (Part 15)

Rating: M (18+, Minors DNI)

Word Count: 9K

Warnings: Foul language, Fluff oh my god so much fluff can you believe it, Smut, Angst if you squint

A/N: The end. AAAAAHHHH?! I started this fic in the depths of my illness and it's been with me as I navigated my way through a horrible horrible time in my life. But good god does it hold such a special place in my heart, especially as my first piece of proper fic writing. Thank you and I love you to all the people who have joined the journey along the way and left comments and support, you guys are the best. I might go cry now, but please keep an eye out for more of my work in the future! 🩶🤍 masterlist.

“Entering the Adega system.” 

The navicomputer’s sudden robotic timbre jolted you from where you sat, straddling Din’s lap in the open cockpit. Contrary to your behaviour, he barely even flinched, licking a stripe up your neck before kissing back down and pulling the strap of your top off one shoulder. Things were not going according to plan. How fortunate.

“We should… We’re going to be… there soon… we should—oh, stars.” Your head lolled back, granting him easier access; he took it greedily. One palm had a handful of your hip, the other scaled up your back to cradle your neck.

“Need you,” he grunted into your chest. Animalistic almost.

Oh, fuck. Yes. 

You fumbled with his belt as he unhooked the button on your trousers. There was no time to undress, to do anything past the minimum. But neither of you cared much in the moment. You had come into the flight deck to ask him if he wanted caf; what the hell had happened? Not that you could find it in yourself to complain, especially as you raised your weight just a fraction so he could tug your pants down, pull your panties to the side, line himself up easier and—

Your moan was embarrassingly loud and he—ever the strategist—tried to silence it with a sloppy kiss. He bottomed out, hitting something unfathomably deep inside you.

“Quiet.” His eyes were squeezed in concentration. “We can’t wake Grogu.” 

Shit, Grogu. He was still asleep in a closed pram, but of course the cockpit door didn’t shut. You would both have to be very quiet. But as Din drove his hips upward, unable to keep still, you realised it might be more of a challenge than you had bargained for.

He drew back down before thrusting again. “I don’t think… I can’t… Din!” He slapped a hand over your mouth then, and something about it was so hot that you clenched around him, hard. It was his turn to make too much noise.

It turned into a game of reckless abandon, Din’s movements sharp, the circle of your hips deliberate, a test to see who could keep it together. And you were both losing.

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. He had reprimanded you for being too loud, but he wasn’t faring much better. You were pulsing around him, eyes rolling back, and he could feel your mouth agape under his hand. You had liked it when he covered your mouth, he had felt it. He wondered if you would also like his hand around your throat, your hands tied behind your back. He wondered just how dirty you could get.

The green circle of Ossus loomed closer in his periphery, but what really mattered was the way your body jerked with each drive of his cock. The choked whines that managed to escape his muffling. Din gripped you by the waist, practically pulling you down onto him.

He had wanted you to himself—just for a little bit—before Skywalker inevitably stole you away. It wouldn’t be forever, he hoped it wouldn’t be for very long at all, but any minute spent far from your side suddenly felt unbearable. He’d stay inside you forever if it meant you never left him.

‘Learn to be selfish sometimes, Djarin. It’s the one thing you’ll never regret.’ Maybe the man had a point because holy shit this was amazing. You were amazing.

He was getting sloppy, nearing that dangerous edge that seemed to come all too quickly when he was with you. And you opened your eyes, refocusing on him, as if you could feel it too. You looked fucked out, drunk, eyes hooded and so dark he could see his own reflection in them. He hoped Luke Sykwalker was a merciful man.

You both came at the same time, and he struck deep, turning his own moan into a gasping exhale instead. You whispered a quiet ‘Oh’ beneath his palm before succumbing to the tremors of your orgasm. 

Moments passed, and when he finally uncovered your mouth, he realised that you were laughing. Breathless and giggling. 

“What just happened? I came in to ask if you wanted caf.” And then you were collapsing again into a fit.

He chuckled with you, suddenly sheepish. “Sorry.”

“No. Don’t say sorry. That was… fuck.” Another shaky giggle. Stars, it was so good to see you laugh. He brushed a stray hair back from your face, trailed a thumb over your cheekbone and your features cleared, going soft. “What is it?” you asked, as if his thoughts were written in the creases between his brows. Maybe they were.

He whispered. “Don’t leave me.”

Your eyes widened, mouth parting. “What?” Hands cupped his face. So smooth against the roughness of his stubble. “I’m not… Din, I’m not leaving.” 

He said nothing, afraid his words might betray him.

Understanding passed over your face. “You thought I wanted to go to Ossus to ask him to train me?”

He couldn’t look you in the eyes. Because yes, that’s exactly what he had thought. You lifted his chin.

“He won’t.” You said it with such surety, as if anyone wouldn’t kill to keep you close. “And even if he would…” You were shaking your head. “…I have something much more important right here.”

It was dizzying, this relief. 

“I just need some guidance… a few questions answered. That’s all.” You leaned in to kiss him, sweet and innocent and far too chaste. “I would never leave you.” 

The two of you sat there for a moment, the Razor Crest gaining steadily on the planet, his cock softening inside you. Your presence so permeating that he forgot, just for a moment, that he actually had to land the ship.

Luke was waiting for you as the Crest touched down, dressed in immaculate black, as if he was expecting you. Grass swayed in the ship’s wake, but you had little time to focus on the flora. He captivated your attention immediately; your preparation having done absolutely nothing to assuage your anxiety. In addition, the wisdom that emanated from him only served to remind you of your own training, your inferiority. But Din was just behind you, and Grogu, squealing at the sight of him, launched his small body down the ramp.

“Well, it’s very good to see you too, Grogu,” Luke addressed the child before regarding you. Grogu had already busied himself with a passing butterfly, easily distracted. He extended a hand. “I was wondering when I would get to meet you.” You were hyperaware of the clamminess of your palms when he clasped yours in his own. However, he only offered a smile. You were a bit starstruck.

“Mandalorian.” He inclined his head in greeting towards Din. Din returned the gesture. “When I saw the ship circling, I thought perhaps Grogu had reason to return. But I sense that I was wrong.”

For hours you had pondered over what to say, picked apart the small meanings of each specific word, but suddenly it seemed your entire vocabulary had emptied from your mind. You started to speak and then trailed off, suddenly unsure of how to word your reasons for coming. What if he couldn’t help? Was this stupid? Were you stupid to come here?

“It’s all right. Conversation is only a formality, really. I know why you’re here. I can feel it.” You noticed the lightsaber hilt at his side, the way it caught the light. He seemed to track your gaze. “I’m not sure if I can be of much more help, but I’ll certainly try my best.”

You hadn’t expected him to be so… kind? Willing? Maker, what a relief. “Thank you.”

But Luke only motioned to the treed hills behind him. “Walk with me.” To Din he said, “There’s a lagoon just beyond those saplings. Grogu is well acquainted with the aquatic life there. We will rejoin you soon.” There was little room left for discussion. But still, before you parted ways you cast Din a heavy look, one you could tell he returned. It said don’t worry and I love you and I’ll be back soon. You could imagine his eyes under the visor, firm and yet understanding. You loved him so much that the force of it might cleave you in half.

He angled his helmet toward where Skywalker was already walking, a way of saying get going. And so you turned, rushing to keep up with him, noting the calm posture of hands clasped behind his back. And the way the impending forest seemed to part and whisper around him.

You ambled for quite a while, in silence through the greenery. The air of the planet smelled sweet, buzzing and alive, quite like Rishi. But more powerful.

“What do you feel?” Luke’s voice broke the quiet, soothing although sudden.

“Life.”

He seemed satisfied with the vague answer. “Good. That’s the Force. It resides in all living things, and you recognize it. That’s why you connect the way you do.”

“It’s strong.”

He nodded. “Yes. Ossus has a rich history with the Jedi. The power of it resides in the very soil of the planet. That’s why I chose to stay here. To teach.”

So much power. Such potential. But pure, uncorrupted, all of it.

“Something troubles you.”

You hummed at the ground. “It’s hard to explain.”

It was silly of you to think that he might resent you, cast you out. Because he stopped you in your path, a look of real comprehension on his face. “I can imagine.” Luke gestured to the side, a pile of flat rocks arranged in a circle. “It may be easier not to talk.”

Nerves gripped at you again, sending pins and needles down your legs. “I… I’m not trained in Jedi meditation—”

He had already lowered himself and crossed his legs atop one of the makeshift seats. “That’s alright, I will guide you. Sit.”

He seemed so sure. Momentarily, you were glad for his assertiveness. Especially as you fumbled for words and picked at your fingernails, fumbled with your beskar vambraces. You followed his direction, mimicking his own body language. 

“Don’t dwell on what you were taught before. Listen to my direction and don’t try to force it… it should come naturally.” Luke’s posture was commanding, and you found your own spine straightening in self-consciousness.

He had already closed his eyes, seemingly oblivious to your inner dialogue. “Let yourself drift. Feel the nature around you. The leaves… the way they move. The animals, the insects. Don’t worry about me; I’ll find you.”

Connecting with the planet was easy enough. You had done it before on Sorgan. Though you felt you were the clunky, uncoordinated counterpart to Luke’s polished and refined technique. When you meditated with Grogu, sometimes you could see things, images, memories that belonged to him. Was Luke going to be able to see those things? You suddenly found yourself racking your brain for moments of guilt, embarrassment, things you would rather he didn’t witness—

“Focus,” he reprimanded, a hint of humor beneath his words.

You shrunk a little, mumbling a quick sorry under your breath. Okay. Whatever. You were here for guidance, and it could only be effective if he understood what he was dealing with. Who he was dealing with.

The sun was peeking through holes in the forest canopy, dappling your skin and the surrounding bamboo shoots with glowing warmth. The flowers, hidden within tall grasses, seemed to rise on tiptoes towards its light. A fat insect swooped low over their vibrant colours before shooting up, up, up. You went with it, feeling the ground fall out from beneath you. In the distance there were shimmers of light off the reflection of a calm pond. Ripples disturbed its surface, caused by a devious little green hand… a shriek of delight. Behind it, a gruff voice, shining silver, weapons laid in a pile on the ground. Love. Oh, such love. I radiated from them, so strong that it seemed to emanate from all around. So strong that it emanated from you.

You felt the moment that Luke joined you, distantly aware of his consciousness. He beckoned to you, and you turned from the scene, toward something much more serious. It was as if he opened himself to you, willing you to imitate his own action. The connection was so strong that it caused your pupils to flicker beneath closed eyelids. His life passed in flashing images.

Endless sands of the Tatooine desert, Jawa Sandcrawlers, an astromech unit, black smoke from a scorching fire. A hooded figure, the blur of hyperspace stars, a loud and affectionate Wookie, the cozy interior of a rounded ship. A beautiful woman with long brown hair. Headstrong and fearless. The Cloud City, dazzling in shades of white and gold. Memories began to overlap, and you gasped both in shock and familiarity. The Death Star, its ghostly halls, a black cape sweeping over them. The sound of heavy boots. Lightsabers, blue, green, red, yellow eyes and cracking skin. Explosions. Death and sorrow and jubilation and fear and loss and learning. Grogu. No, that couldn’t be right. An older Grogu, wrinkled and hunched over in a house of mud and sticks. A planet of brilliant white snow. War and hate and redemption and love and family. The legends, the stories you had read about on the web, they were nothing compared to this. You could feel what he felt, the complication of it all. You were barely aware of the cool slide of tears down your cheeks. Your physical body felt a whole planetary system away. Months could have passed, and you would have been none the wiser. Some time later, there was a phantom hand on your shoulder, Luke’s voice steady behind you. 

“Come back.” 

You tried, but it was impossible. Like grasping at clouds. At dispersing smoke. Who were you in comparison to this vast existence? Irrelevance. No one. Nothing. 

“Use my memories. Find yourself.”

You floated through his consciousness like a wraith, searching desperately for a sense of belonging, pulling at threads on a tapestry. There was a particularly strong one down a darkened hallway, littered with fallen droids. They were felled by lightsaber strokes, the melted metal still glowing from the heat of the blade. Shouldn’t you be afraid? 

But you weren’t, not at all. Because somehow, impossibly, you knew that at the end of this hall was home.

The door of the ship’s bridge slid open smoothly and you saw the back of Luke’s cloak, the dirty blonde of his hair. But then he stepped to the side and looked at you—really looked at you. But you weren’t there. This was his memory. 

In that moment, you understood why you were drawn to it.

Helmet held at his side, Din held Grogu, the beginnings of silvery tears lining his beautiful eyes. “It’s time to go,” he said softly, and the child’s ears drooped. “Don’t be afraid.”

You opened your eyes, lashes clotted with tears of your own.

Luke was smiling at you faintly. “Interesting… that out of all my memories you would choose that one. That should answer your question, shouldn’t it?”

“My question?” 

“You could have chosen a memory of the Empire… of the Death Star… of Palpatine… but you didn’t. You shied away from fear or anger as a tether and moved towards love.”

Huh. It had seemed such an obvious choice that you hadn’t even bothered to frame it that way. “But, I thought that attachment was forbidden for the Jedi.”

Luke looked pensive. “It’s been written that way in the texts, but I’ve been giving it much thought lately.” 

“How do you mean?”

“Well…” He clasped his hands in his lap. “I don’t think it’s so black and white. I think the volatility of attachment is what made the Jedi implement the rule and enforce it so vehemently, but that doesn’t mean it’s innately bad.” Luke seemed lost in thought for another moment. “My father… attachment to my mother is what drove him to the dark side of the Force.”

Oh. You hadn’t known that.

“…But attachment to me is what brought him back.” He lifted a pebble from the ground, spinning it. “It’s a complicated concept.” Then, he laughed lightly to himself. “I can’t train you.”

“I figured you would say that. I didn’t come to ask to be trained.”

“I know.” He nodded. “But I want you to know all the same. It’s not because of what you were taught, or how you were taught it. It’s not even really about attachment either. It’s only because, in a matter of time, I would lose you for the same reason I lost Grogu.”

To Din.

“He seems to attract force sensitives,” Luke said, a handsome smile gracing his features.

You shook your head. “No… No, he just attracts trouble.”

“I can feel how much you love them, and how much they love you. Something like that… it’s rare.” He stood, extending a hand to help you up as well. 

You took it, knees aching. How long had you been sitting there? Hours maybe? The sun was much lower.

“I understand you have a crystal in your possession.”

“Yes, I do.” You were surprised by how little it bothered you now. 

Walking with you, Luke offered: “I could help you with it, if you’d like?”

“Yes. I would like that.”

The walk back through the forest was one of renewed peace, Luke’s insights having soothed some long-jagged edge inside you. You could hear Grogu’s voice echo through the treeline as you finally approached the Crest. How you longed to go to them.

“Your apprehension has waned,” Luke noted as you climbed the ramp. 

You nodded. 

“I only told you what you already knew. What your family has already made clear.”

“It helps to hear it from someone like you.” The storage compartment opened easily, and you found the box that Din had referenced, the same old wood, the same paranormal feel. Though it wasn’t nearly as intimidating anymore. You reached in to retrieve it, standing and turning back to Luke.

“Don’t doubt yourself. Internal conflict can lead you down a darker path. No one decides who you are… only you.”

His words reminded you of similar ones heard only days before. They think they know who I am, but they won’t give me the chance to show them who I want to be. A Twi’lek surrounded by swirling fabrics.

He led you to a rounded stone hut atop a steep hill. The interior was cool, simple. He sat once more and you followed, placing the box on the soft ground beneath you. You flipped the lid.

The red of the crystal was angry, the fissured lines etched into its surface somehow impossibly deeper. It seemed so at odds with the soft green of this planet. But nestled beside it was that small piece of piping, bent in at one end from where you had clutched it. Din must have pried it from your grasp while you were unconscious.

Luke smiled at it. “Thoughtful,” he mused. “It will be useful.” Fingers fluttering through air, he lifted the crystal, turning it in the dim light of the den. “Did you know that no crystal is naturally created red?”

No, you hadn’t known that.

“In the presence of a Sith, particularly a powerful one, it becomes corrupted… it bleeds. That is why the blade becomes scarlet. Sometimes, because of the unstable nature of it, the saber will flicker, whereas those of the Jedi are often still and calm.”

“What about D— The Mandalorian’s saber?”

“I’m afraid I don’t know much about the creation of the darksaber. I feel that is a story better told by the Mandalorians.”

The kyber crystal came to rest back in its box, and Luke rose to retrieve a bundle from across the room. Within it were a number of strange pieces of metal, each of varying shapes and sizes. 

“Your piece will make most of the hilt, but you will need a power cell… stabilizers… an activation lever. Pick what speaks to you; I will supply the rest.”

You moved—comfortably quiet—in tandem, similar to the arts and crafts you had done with the children on Sorgan. I made you want to laugh, comparing the creation of a weapon to such innocent fun. But before long, you had a line-up of materials in front of you, springs and screws and things you couldn’t even name, spaced out and flat on the ground. In the center of it all was the crystal, glowing faintly as if in anticipation.

“When you’re ready…” Luke began, “…close your eyes and connect. You’ll feel all the components around it, the way they interact. It will feel a bit like a puzzle.” He looked wistful. “All you have to do is solve it.”

He said it as if it was easy. Maybe it was. Didn’t you want to find out? 

Your eyes fluttered shut, and the room around you faded to black.

It was similar to the dream you had had of the crystal before, a sort of limbo. Except it didn’t speak to you anymore. It beckoned as always, but seemed to heave with effort, giving the impression of being sick or injured. When you reached out to it, it sighed. 

The parts of the saber came into focus, making an odd sort of mental sense. Like trying to chart a hyperspace lane, careful of obstructions and aware of where all the stars fell. Clicks and twists. Overtop of it all, the casing of metal pipe fit into place. Like it was made for this. The surface puckered and folded, and you let it do as it pleased. The was a final pop, a miniscule hiss, and the work was done. A bead of sweat was traveling its way down your brow.

Luke was assessing you with a look of satisfaction. “Very good.” You took in your creation.

Interesting and perhaps symbolic, that a piece of your captivity would be used for this. Reclaimed. It had bent itself into creases as if it had been squeezed.

“It’s quite unique. Representative of its owner.” He cast a glance behind you.

Was it? 

“Ignite it.”

The command had you looking at Luke. The nervousness must have been evident in your eyes because he nodded once in encouragement.

You felt around for the activation lever. Felt, because your eyes had squeezed themselves closed. Each heartbeat reverberated through your bones; each breath was too loud. There was no doubt anymore, no fear, and yet a kernel of hesitation still crawled its way into your stomach.

Fuck it. You had what you wanted. This wouldn’t change anything.

The blade hummed to life.

Its searing light burned the backs of your eyelids. 

Luke was silent. 

Oh, stars.

But when you finally gathered the courage to look, what you saw stunned you to silence as well. Parted your lips and somehow forced an exhale from already empty lungs. 

It was white. Pure white, like starlight.

“How is this even possible?”

Skywalker was smiling in a way you hadn’t yet witnessed. “I’ve seen it once before. With a close friend. A great warrior, and a good person.”

Unbelievable.

You swung it experimentally, low and then high, angled perpendicular above your forehead. It was lighter than Din’s and the handling was different. It moved in smooth arcs, cutting through the resistance of air. The crystal within felt sated; it hummed in synchronicity with the blade… contented purrs. You laughed, carefree and airy.

“You’ve been given this to protect and defend. Use it wisely.” You wished there were words to convey your level of gratitude to Luke. As you extinguished the blade, all you could do was thank him and assure him that you would.

A squeak of excitement sounded from the archway behind you. Din was there, a fascinated Grogu in his arms. 

You felt like a child, running into his arms. “Did you see that?” Someone needed to clarify that you weren’t just hallucinating.

He smoothed your brow, the child clawing at the folds of your clothing. “I never doubted you, cyar’ika.”

He hadn’t, had he? Since the beginning, since bringing you aboard the ship, in matters of life or death, even since learning the truth about your past. What a magical thing it was to have someone see all of you, every dark and twisted crevice, every scar you tried so hard to hide away, and still find such beauty in it.

Luke had to clear his throat. “I won’t keep you. But I would like to thank you for gathering up the courage to come here. I know it was not an easy feat.” He surveyed Din. Despite being much shorter, Luke stood with a poise that exuded power. “I know that I’m in no position to ask you for anything, but I will ask that you take good care of them. Such power attracts attention… and danger. I hate to refer to your family as such, but in the eyes of many… they are weapons. It is imperative that they stay protected.”

“I’d sooner fall on my own blade then let anything happen to them.”

Luke’s seemed to share an unspoken thought with Din. “I know.”

Something about the way he said it was unnerving. Because you knew he meant every word.

The place Din had picked was shrouded in darkness by the time the Crest landed. Miles away from the closest tourist spot, it was secluded and quiet. Breathtakingly beautiful.

A sprawling lake sparkled with bright moonlight, stretching far into the distance, where it was lined by tall trees of the lushest green. The ship’s ramp descended just a few metres from the shoreline, soft sand and small pebbles that shifted with the light lapping of the water. Aside from the comforting noises of nature and the small ticks of the cooling Crest, all was quiet.

Grogu had drifted off hours ago and would likely sleep until morning. Din had tucked him in to the pram with gentle movements, smoothing the small bit of hair that was starting to appear on the top of his head. Such tender care. He was a good father. Though he’d likely never admit it.

“You’re staring,” he remarked as he closed the pram lid.

“Am I not allowed to?” You rose from where you leaned against the ladder, saber hilt hitting your thigh. Its weight would take some getting used to. “You get to see me all the time. I have to look at you far longer to read you beneath all the armour. It’s hardly fair.”

He motioned to the open ramp and the world that waited beyond it. “You want to even the playing field?” Din offered you his arm.

The night was clear and the air was warm, alive with a breeze that felt almost like a caress. There was no need for a fire, and so you sat on the sand, bare feet flirting with the fresh water of the lake. Din had removed his helmet, and you had helped him with the armour plates so he could lay back on the sandbank, stretching out, arms beneath his head.

“The stars look different from here,” he mused. You took in his features, bathed in cool light, and the sparkle of constellations in his eyes.

“How so?”

He dragged an arm through the sand and around your waist, pulling you down and into his side. Took your chin between his fingers and tilted it toward the sky. “Look.” 

Colours bled like a watercolour painting across the dark night, the auras of each star so bright that it reminded you fleetingly of the halo of your lightsaber blade. A rippling curtain of turquoise green floated from horizon to horizon, ghostlike in its movements.

“Woah.” You couldn’t help the breathless exclamation, the laugh, and the smile that it left behind. Never before had you seen anything like it. It was stunning. 

Naboo was everything you had hoped it would be. Otherworldly allure. A sanctuary in the midst of a dangerous galaxy. Somewhere the three of you could come to just relax for a moment. Be no one beyond yourselves. No responsibilities, no judgements.  

The wave of heartache was unavoidable. “He would have loved this.” Your father. Who talked of coming here over and over and over. An unreachable dream encased in four walls of dark durasteel. Who talked of wishes and magic and fairy tales of brave knights in impenetrable armour. He had been right about so many things. “I think he would have loved you.”

Din turned his eyes away from the sky, his shaky breath unmissable. “I wish I could have met him.” He pressed a kiss to your hair. “…thanked him for raising such a strong woman… wish I could tell him that I’ll take care of you now.”

Simple words… but a galaxy of meaning.

“I’ll take care of you,” he murmured again. 

Din kissed you, and it felt like a thousand words melded into one moment. Breaths mingled, hand wandered. There was sand in his hair, and probably in yours too. Once you broke away you said just that, brain short-circuiting.

He said it was easy enough to wash out. He wasn’t referring to the fresher.

“You’re kidding.”

“Am I?” His smiled turned to a stupid grin. “Want to go swimming?”

Drunk on him, you agreed. How would he feel in the cool stillness of the water? You wanted to find out. Stars, he was unbuttoning your shirt with talented fingers and your mind was going a pleasant sort of fuzzy. He pushed the sleeves off of your shoulders. Threw your top to the side. Unhooked your saber hilt. Dove into the soft part of your neck. 

“Not sure if your father would have approved of this,” he mumbled into your shoulder and you giggled, giggled, like a little girl. His hands were hot on your bare skin, sliding down to the waistband of your pants. You hadn’t even started on his flight suit yet.

“I do want to go swimming,” you admitted to him. “You’re distracting me.”

He continued his ministrations. “Focus then.”

Fine. His zipper slid down with little resistance. Every time you undressed him it felt so thrilling, erotic. A memory floated back, Omera’s whispered words on Sorgan, like some forbidden secret. 

‘He’s so hot.’

You had found such a sentiment silly at the time, especially in the face of such violent conflict. But even then—just a little, maybe a lot—you had agreed with her. And even more so now. He was.

Din had managed to work your trousers down just as you slid the top of his suit off. He was smiling at you, cheekily before standing, shucking the rest of it off and offering you a hand.

The water was cold. Not enough to change your mind about going in, but certainly enough to elicit a sharp squeal. Din seemed unfazed, wading a distance in before diving under the surface. 

“It’s nice,” he said upon emerging. Appalled, you could only gape at him. “Come on.” He splashed you once and you sent a loathing glare back. One which he only laughed at. “I’ll pull you in…”

“You wouldn’t dare.” You sent a flicker of Force outward, enough to make your eyes glow, just for theatrical effect.

Din smiled, wading up the shore to where you stood, dripping lake water. “I’m not scared of you.” He looked like a god.

When he lunged for you, you let him.

The water felt like sharp, cold silk. You were gasping down gulps of air to overcome the shock and he held you through it, chuckling lightly at your dramaticism. “See?” But after a few short-lived seconds of crisp panic, you began to adjust and found that—temperature aside—he was right. Though the night was dark, the moonlight only just enough to highlight the chiseled angles of Din’s face, you could feel that the water was clear. Fresh and glassy. But you weren’t letting the sudden assault go so easily. You splashed at him playfully and watched the water drip down the muscle of his jaw. The way he looked at you… it might as well have been a kiss.

It was your first time swimming, or at least fully submerged in water that wasn’t a tank. What a marvel, the way it made your body feel so light. You hadn’t even considered to be afraid of the lake, not with Din right beside you. “I’ve never done this before,” you confessed, suddenly giddy.

Din placed a hand under your back, tipping your legs up. “Watch this.” You were falling onto your back in slow motion, the water and Din’s arms supporting you to stay above the surface. As the sky became visible you realized that you were floating… like an idle ship in space. Suspended in midair, water tickling at your sides. You laughed, eyes full of multicoloured stars. Such a wonderful feeling. “They should make bacta tanks like this.”

You didn’t have to look at him to tell that he was smiling. Grinning. Again, that whispered utterance of Mando’a syllables that was becoming increasingly familiar yet still remained a mystery.

Curiosity got the best of you. Without looking him in the eyes, you dared to ask, “What does that mean?”

He didn’t hesitate. “It means beautiful… means you’re beautiful.” 

“Will you teach me?”

“Mando’a, or how to swim?”

“Both?”

“Of course.” He was supporting you lightly by the waist. “How about I teach you one right now.”

You smiled at the night sky. “Okay.”

“Close your eyes. Listen to the way the words sound.” His mouth was by your ear then, and the phrase he uttered sent goosebumps along your skin. 

“It sounds familiar.”

“That’s because I’ve said it to you once before.”

“What does it mean?”

“It means I love you. Literally, it means I will know you forever.” His fingertips tapped along the length of your spine, under the water. He was barely even touching you anymore and yet you were still afloat in serene stillness. 

You tried it out, tongue stumbling over some of the pronunciation. Despite what was probably a butchery of the sentence, Din leaned over your floating figure to press his lips to your forehead.

“I love you.” You righted yourself, moving closer to him. “I love swimming… I love the water.”

“I wanted to fuck you in that pool on Rishi,” he admitted.

Oh. Holy shit.

“I spent way too long in there thinking eventually you’d say ‘to hell with it’ and come and join me.” His hands were frictionless under the surface, sliding up your thighs. “Rishi was torture. Your fucking shirt, your hair…”

You thought back to it, the stifling weather, the meeting with Castann, the way he had fallen so sternly silent afterwards. Ah. “That’s why you were so quiet. In the cantina… you were jealous.” Your words had held a hint of humor, but when he dragged his eyes up to yours there was only dark seriousness there.

You softened. “Oh, Din.” The water rippled as he adjusted his hold on you, bringing your bodies impossibly closer.

“It wasn’t anything that you did, just…” He paused, and you brushed a wet curl back from his face. “…with him, with the Marshall, there’ve been others too… I could never touch you the way they could, I couldn’t connect with you that way. It just frustrated me.”

“That’s not true.” The sparkling glare off the lake lit up his skin, the broadness of his shoulders. “I didn’t need to touch you or kiss you to know how I felt. Maker knows I wanted to, but that wasn’t what did it. It was just you.”

“And if I couldn’t have given you anything more?” There was such vulnerability in his voice. In the question.

You cupped his face, drops of water falling from your wrists to his collarbones. “You’re enough. You’re so much more than enough.” When you kissed him, you could have sworn that a tear mixed with the lake water running down his face.

It was sweet. Sweet and soft and lazy and he smelled like the trees. You felt weightless in the water, cocooned in his arms and the warmth of his body heat. He took his time against your mouth, moving like the soft ripples of the lake before nipping lightly at your bottom lip. Hiking your legs up to wind around his hips.

It felt like fireworks every time he touched you. Like you had dared to move too close to a flame and caught alight. But you would be happy to burn like this. The water didn’t feel cold anymore.

“Can I?”

You nodded. He always asked. As if he expected the answer to suddenly change.

Din unclasped your wet undershirt with deft fingers, throwing it as far as he could onto the sandy shore. Your chest rose and fell against his own, lake water swirling in the space between.

You felt surreal under his palms. Powerful and alive and thrumming with energy. He wanted to make this good, really good. It was something he had discovered with you recently and was still learning to take advantage of. It drove him crazy to make you feel good. He had to see it, to hear your moans, to soak up your praises shamelessly. Stars, it made him hard.

And he was starting to learn what you liked. But there was such opportunity, so many doors he had yet to open. He couldn’t fucking wait. You were kissing along his jawline and he was trying to remember all the things he wanted to try but dank farrik it was difficult especially since he was kind of still staring at the way water trickled down the valley between your bare breasts.

“Stop thinking so hard,” you whispered against his neck. So you could read minds. “Just let go.” Your hands were roaming over his pecs, and he was forgetting which way was up and which way was down because the sky was reflected so perfectly in the water’s surface and all he could feel was you.

He strode up the sandbank, out of the water, the chill of the breeze making you shudder as you clung to him and lay you down on your pile of discarded clothes. Your skin was glistening and on impulse alone he licked up the center of your chest, tasting saltwater and desire. Gasping, you lifted your hips up, searching desperately for some sort of friction. Needy, always.

Din went to pull at your underwear, but the water had stuck them to you like a second skin. Usually he could take his time, but right now… 

He reached for his weapons belt, withdrawing the blade. Watched your eyes widen. Not with fear, though. Shit. He slid the edge under the fabric at your hip and sliced—hearing it come away with a clean rip. You hissed, arching needily toward the blade’s edge.

“Careful,” he chided.

Your eyes had darkened. “I trust you.” Oh, you liked it. You fucking liked it.

“Do you?” He was going to combust. Because as he pressed the flat length of the blade to your neck, you bared it to him. “You know I would never hurt you.”

“Not unless I asked you to?” The innocent tone of the question made his cock twitch. For just a moment, he was robbed of the ability to speak. “Or not unless I begged you to,” you urged him. Buffering, reloading, knife still at your neck. 

“Come on, Mando.”

Mando. You lay your hand over his own, tilting the angle of the blade until its sharpest edge rested over your skin. You were breathing heavy, but he was breathing heavier. You arched further into him, a desperate sound escaping you, and something in him snapped.

He had your hips pinned in an instant, trailing the knife over the rise and fall of your chest and down, down, down, through your breasts, past your navel and back to where your underwear sat, half torn off your body. “This what you want?” He cut the fabric around your other hip and pulled the ruined garment free. You gasped. “I was going to be gentle tonight.” Farrik, he could see the sheen of your arousal and it was making some primal part of him go a little feral. 

Your hands were wandering, grasping aimlessly at him. But a hunter’s instinct had taken over, a strange combination of a need to capture with a desire to please. He had your wrists trapped in one palm, winding the wet material of your panties around them, and tying them off before raising them up above your head. There was a rock to the side of him and he retrieved it, placing it in between your hands, over the knot of your bindings digging into the sand. It would hold if you didn’t strain too hard. He pulled back once the work was done just to look at you, completely bare before him, writhing and completely at his mercy. And stars, he was focused. So hyperaware. On the clench of your trapped fists, the peaks of your nipples, the softness of your skin, the way your scars seemed to glow in the light, the way your thighs clenched together.

“You want me to fuck you, pretty girl?” A broad palm travelled up from your waist to cup your breast. He rolled a nipple between his fingers and watched the way you panted. Would you like it if he put his mouth there?

You did like it. You liked it a lot. 

“Oh. Fuck.” Your moans were music to his ears, and he alternated sides, keen to keep them going.

“I should tie you up like a bounty…” He was blabbering, almost incoherent, drunk off the feel of you. “…let you loose in the forest and hunt you down. Would you like that?” Judging by the mess he found between your legs, he figured the answer was yes. “Lucky for you, I’m not feeling very patient.”

You choked when he slid two fingers inside of you. How fast could he make you come? He was getting awfully good at it. The movements of his hand were sharp, deliberate, the heel of his palm brushing up against your clit with each repetition. You started to tug at your makeshift binding but it held, mercifully. You were getting loud, trying to muffle the pleasured cries in the flesh of your shoulder. Oh, this was fucking addicting.

Sliding his free hand up your torso, he tested a flex of his fingers around your throat and felt you tighten around him in response. “You’re mine.” Tighter. “Only mine.” Faster. You were seconds away, bucking your hips up into his hand, chanting in agreement.

“I’m yours. Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes.” Din slid his hands free at the last moment. “No.” It felt evil to laugh at your groan of anguish, but he couldn’t help it.

Your hands had come free, but it didn’t matter. He flipped you by your waist to lay on your stomach, arching your hips up and flattening himself over your spine. Reaching down to line himself up and pausing… just long enough for you let out another desperate whine. “Didn’t you say something about begging?”

You pushed your ass back against him and he almost lost it. Almost. But you were just as stubborn, refusing to give him the satisfaction. That wouldn’t do. “Beg me, cyare.”

You caved so easily that it broke his character, made him smile. “Please… Din please.”

“Please what?”

“Please, fuck me. Please.”

“My wife. So polite.” He pushed in, all the way, in one powerful motion, stealing the air from both of your lungs. It’s like you were made for him, greedily taking everything he was willing to give. He was punching sobs out of you with each thrust and your bound hands were grasping for purchase on the beach, handfuls of wet sand. “Never going to get enough of you.”

Din snaked both hands around your body, one up to circle around your neck and one down, past your stomach where he could feel the blunt head of him poking through, all the way to your clit. The vibrations in your throat traveled through his palm as you moaned and cried out, and each circle of his fingers had you clenching down on him, so tight that the pleasure was burning hot.

He had used to fist his own dick thinking of taking you from behind, yet his imagination had done it no justice. Every arch of your spine, every tremble, every kriffing pulse of your cunt had him reeling, desperately trying to keep a hold on the brutal pace he had set. He wanted to mold you to the shape of him, selfishly, so that you fit him—and only him—for the rest of time. Imprint his name down your spine, leave purple marks on your neck that would last for days. This sort of love was brutal, possessive, like a wild animal. Oh, he wanted you to be able to feel the ghost of him between your legs when you walked.

You met him, thrust for thrust, mumbling words between every sharp breath. “Feels… so… fucking… good…” It felt better than good. It was the most blinding sensation he had ever experienced. “So… close… don’t stop.” He could tell. From the way every muscle in you was tensing, from the way you were gripping him. And thank the stars for it because he certainly wasn’t going to last much longer. “Want you to… come inside and… watch it leak out… then… fuck it back… into me.”

Din collapsed, spilling into you with a low groan. It felt never ending, wave after wave after wave and just as he thought he was coming down, you clamped down on him like a vise, whimpering and shuddering through your own orgasm and only prolonging his own. It was all he could do to prop his weight up and keep from crushing you.

For a long moment, the only sound was lapping water and the uneven heaves of breath as you both fought to recover. He released your neck, watched your head slump forward, trailed a palm over the dips in your back. Did as you asked, leaned back and watched pearls of his own come drip into the sand. With two fingers he swiped up the excess and pushed it back into you, soaking up your weakened whimper like music.

“You okay?” Because he had been hard, unforgiving. If he had hurt you…

“Am I oka—” You huffed an exhausted laugh. Din flipped you over onto your back and drank in the disarray of your hair, the softness of your eyes, the satisfied smile. “That was… wow.” You lifted your hands to him, bashfully. “Can you untie me?”

It was his turn to laugh as he reached for the panties around your wrists, still damp and now coated with sand. You were watching him as he worked, eyes trailing from his face down his chest and stomach, lower. He stared back and you looked away sharply, as if you had been caught doing something you shouldn’t. Adorable.

“Don’t get shy on me.” The knot on your wrists came free.

“M’not.”

He leaned down to whisper at your ear. “Especially not after you told me to fuck my c—”

“Okay!” You slapped him playfully on the chest. He liked to tease you, if only to see you flustered and melting. Din was suddenly overcome by the urge to hold you. And in doing so, was struck dumb just by the fact that he could.

Under the stars, in the sand, between a copse of trees and the expanse of lake, you curled into each other.

“I might fall asleep,” you warned.

He traced the vertebrae of your spine with a fingertip. “I can carry you.”

“Kay.” When your lips met his shoulder, he smiled. “Do you think Grogu will want to swim? Tomorrow?”

The idea was laughable. “He’d probably much prefer to terrorize the tadpoles.”

“Poor things.”

You stayed along that lake for 5 days, adventuring and playing with the kid during the day and fucking like wild creatures at night. One evening, skin still slick with sweat from riding him for what had felt like hours, you asked what he wanted to do next. Never before had the galaxy felt so open, so full of possibility. And never before had you had someone to explore it with. A family.

“We need to visit the covert. Thank the Armourer and…” Din trailed off.

“You want to go back to Mandalore.” He had spoken of a plan to redeem himself, to rediscover the mines below his people’s home world. You refrained from recalling what the Imp had said, he did too. But the curiosity, the need to know, it was palpable. 

His fingers threaded through your hair. “Only if you’re okay with it.”

“Of course. I know it’s important to you and I want to help. In any way that I can.” 

Din struggled to ask you for help, or for favours, and that was something that only got slightly better over time. But you were by his side anyways, as he wielded the darksaber as a symbol, united long-estranged factions of Mandalorians, and eventually retook the planet.

It hadn’t been easy; in fact, it had been terrifying. Moments when you had been separated were torturous, so much more frightening because now you knew the depth of what you stood to lose. But against all odds, and yet another run-in with the Empire, you and Din and Grogu had mercifully made it out unscathed. 

Victorious and now hidden away on a small parcel of land just outside of Nevarro City, a generous gift from Greef Karga. Or rather, a piece offering after Din threatened to kill him for sending you into the jaws of your captor. He had claimed to have no knowledge of the supposed ‘buyer’ and you believed him. But Din had not been so quick to forgive.

The Clan Mudhorn cabin was a quaint place, small, but somehow the perfect size for your peculiar little family. There were frogs for Grogu to play with, and the sun rose and set every day. And thank the maker, there was finally a proper bed. Just the one, but the three of you had made it work. A hammock had been fashioned just beside the kitchen for Grogu to sleep in, though more often than not, you would wake to find him snoozing happily between you and Din. On those nights, neither of you would have the heart to move him back.

It was so easy to fall into domesticity with them; to hide away the weapons for a time and just be. But the past was not so easily forgotten. And the future was imminent.

You woke from the dream with a choking sob, hand covering your mouth on instinct to keep from waking them. But it was too late. Din brushed a lock of hair back from your face, brown eyes concerned. “I thought they were getting better.” You hadn’t found your voice just yet. “It’s okay, take deep breaths.” He breathed with you until the muscles in your body slowly started to release. “That’s it. Good girl.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“Shh. Don’t apologize.” Having his arms around you was easing the lingering panic better than any medicine. “You want to talk about it? One of the usuals?”

The usuals referred to dreams of captivity, of your father’s death, of the buried traumatic memories associated with your upbringing. But this… this had been different. It came trickling back in bits and pieces.

“No, I… I saw Skywalker. But he was older, much older.” How strange. “His hair was turning grey. There was a boy, young, with raven black hair.” Din was rubbing comforting circles on your curved spine. “I don’t understand, it was all just disjointed images.” But you knew what had roused you from the dream with such urgency. 

The master needs an apprentice.

Din knew better than to discount your visons. Even so, part of you wished he would. Wished he would tell you it was just a dream and to go back to sleep.

“You’re safe. We’re here.” As if he sensed himself being referred to, Grogu’s green claws fought their way up the bedspread. “We can stay up if—”

“No, no, it’s alright. It’s probably nothing.” Din’s eyes looked sad. “Just… can you… hold me?”

“Come here.” He pulled you down and tucked your head under his chin, arms winding securely around your back. The child managed to wriggle his way under Din’s elbow, collapsing with a satisfied sight between your chests. You kissed him on the head.

An ex-Sith, a Mandalorian, and a very small, basically Jedi. The stars must have a sense of humour. But perhaps they were also merciful. You clung to that hope, almost as hard as you clung to Din, Grogu sandwiched between the two of you.

The galaxy was loud, but Nevarro was quiet. People were suffering but now, for this fleeting moment you could be ignorantly happy. 

In your secluded constellation, safe from the rest of the supernovas, you could breathe and succumb once more to a peaceful slumber. If only for just a while longer.

THE END

thank you for reading ❤️‍🩹

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I added some tags that slipped through the cracks too (totally my bad)

[kedsandtubesocks]

In The Dead of Night

pairing: Creature!Cowboy Din Djarin x F!Reader

prompts: “I will keep hurting, I will keep killing, anything to protect you” + “it’s just a little blood”

wc: ~8k

tags & warnings: 18 + only MDNI, supernatural western AU, monster loving, biting with aphrodisiac like effects, wound licking and blood consumption, magic healing, allusion to fem!oral receiving, gore and violence, possessive + protective!Din, loosely established relationship getting firmly established (if I missed anything please let me know)

a/n: written for the haunted hoedown, I want to thank @inklore & @psychedelic-ink for taking the time to create and host such a boo-tiful event! I saw ‘haunted hoedown’ and of course my mind went straight to spooky cowboys lol my deepest thanks and love go to @skeletoncowboys & @perotovar for being the best root tootin’ cowpokes ever, thanks for reading!

Legends whispered of demons living up in the mountains. Untouched by the sprawl of the town, the myths of creatures lurking in the shadows seemed born simply as ghost stories to tell around crackling campfires. 

“Heard there’s a portal to hell up there,” one of the midwives had told you. “And the things that crawl out from the mountains are sent from the devil himself.”

Those legends though were forming into a tangible blistering darkness growing on the edge of the desert. The weight of it now circles the town like a vulture.

Shrill shrieks recently began howling in the night, haunting the town. Unlike the cries of coyotes or even a skittish wild boar, the bestial distorted screeches instead seize a primal fear within the heart of the town. The echoes linger in the wind and simmer a slight unrest.

Then a few shops, along with the bank, began to get ransacked late in the night.

And recently, as of two nights ago, one of the innkeepers heading home for the evening went missing. 

As you sit in the cantina, the bustling discussion brewing in the bar of course focuses only on the creatures rumored to be living in the hills.  

The cantina owner, a gruff older gentleman, tells you he even saw one once. 

“It flew fast overhead. Had wings that reminded me of a bat, but I couldn’t see shit ‘cause of how dark it was. But I know what I saw.”

“All these stories are all just talk! Mindless ghost stories!” Mayor Karga laughs. “There’s nothing out past those points except unforgivable terrain and some terrifying rattlesnakes. Nothing supernatural.”

The wilderness held many forms of life. From the wild creatures to the shadows within the mesquite trees, the secrets held among the desert’s stretching landscape are endless. 

“I don’t know mayor,” the bartender sighs. “We all hear that sound, and whatever makes it…it ain’t human.”

“It’s probably just an injured mountain lion.” Karga argues and you hope it brings some comfort in his rationality. 

“There’s no way a mountain lion did the damage we saw in the shops.” Another patron rebuttals hard and unconvinced at Karga’s logic. 

The grumbles and paranoid brewing among the bar refuse to settle. 

“Look,” Karga sighs. “I’ll have my best man go up there and take a look around. I’m sure he’ll be able to find the source of whatever’s been making this ruckus.”

Karga moves to the corner of the saloon. He then happily claps the shoulders of a man sitting among the shadows of the bar. 

The quiet bounty hunter.

You hadn’t realized his presence and at the sight of him your heart jumps rapidly as if a jackrabbit made a home in it.

The bounty hunter had arrived many months ago. 

The black bandana he wore constantly covered his face. He now almost looked like a shadowy creature from the hills. The cowboy is just as dangerous as whatever lurked among the mountain range and is just as quiet.

In the dimly lit cantina, the bandana, along with his hat, casts an even thicker shadow over his face almost obscuring his eyes.

He simply nods at Karga. 

Fear immediately claws at you, sinking its talons into your soul. You stiffen in your seat at the bar.

“See! It’s settled then!” Karga announces warmly and it does calm the tense room down. 

“Poor bastard,” the saloon owner says under his breath. 

You find no words, only an aching panic quickly gnawing at your ribs. Your body rises up on your own. You settle your tab, grab your shawl and quietly make your way to head back to your cabin. 

But before leaving, you can’t help but turn to curiously stare at the bounty hunter. For being such an intimidating force of a man, he sits unassertive against the shadow of the wall. He’s barely touched his drink and doesn’t move to talk to anyone else.

Even after agreeing to investigate, to make his way to the treacherous mountains, one seems to pay him any attention. 

Then his face turns up to you.

Under the shadow of his hat, deep eyes pulled straight from the blessed soil stare at you with an unwavering attention.

A tension settles over your skin. 

Someone calls out your name, breaking your trance. 

“You’re not walking back alone, are ya?” The saloon’s owner asks with genuine worry. Even a somber silence casts its shadow over his older face.

“I’ll be fine.” You reassure him with a soft nod. 

You can’t help but find your gaze flickering back to the cowboy.

He stares at you now with wide eyes.

Before him or any else can act, Mayor Karga slides into a chair opposite the bounty hunter immediately drawing his attention. Your attention now moves down to the satchel slung across the cowboy.

The dusty cream colored bag suddenly wiggles. Out from its pocket a tiny clawed hand faintly pops out.

Before any more terror dizzying worry can poison your mind you spin on your heels and head out of the saloon. You feel eyes clawing at the back of your head your entire walk back to the cabin. 

You expect the sound of cowboy boots to follow you out. Except only the still silence of the night greets you. 

Thankfully no mysterious shriek comes among the evening air, just the crunch of your boots on the gravel. 

As you turn in for the night you give one last glance out the window. There at the edge of the town, where civilization bleeds dry into the wilderness, the large mountain ranges loom with their ever watchful gaze.

If something else lurks within them…

You shove the thought aside as you take a seat on the chair in the dining room. Angrily yanking your quilt up, you close your eyes. 

Then, soft gentle claws scratch at your face.

Your eyes flutter open fast. 

Crawling up your body and staring with the widest marble like eyes, a green strange eared creature chirps the sweetest noise. 

“Hello there,” you coo back.

The baby yawns and it crinkles up his adorable wrinkled face. Moving to rest flat against you, he sighs sleepily, comforted. His presence melts you.

Out of instinct you draw him close. Settling your hands against his tiny body, you wrap him under the quilt.

“Kid, thought I told you not to go and wake her-”

“It’s fine.” You sharply cut off the deep voice calling out in the cabin. 

A sigh comes. When you glance over to the open dining room area, the cowboy already begins to disarm himself, laying his various weapons into the chest that sits snuggled in the corner by the wooden extended table he built for you. 

“You shouldn’t have walked back here alone.” He mutters with a hardened edge.

“You were busy.” You briskly reply, rubbing your hand on the baby’s back. 

“Could’ve waited.”

“Didn’t want to.” You fire back just as hard and frustrated. 

He knew you couldn’t. No one in the town knows about you and them. For their safety, and yours, this existence remains a tight barbed wired secret. 

Your eyes are drawn to the cowboy’s beautiful sturdy back and you glare fierce daggers into it.

“I can feel you staring.” He mutters.

“Good.” You mutter back low, hard. 

A heavier sigh trickles into the cabin and the bounty hunter turns to face you. Removing his hat and drawing his bandana down, you are greeted by the most beautiful man this wilderness could ever bless you with. He stares at you with those same eyes that silently spoke to you at the cantina.

“I know you’re upset…”

That is an understatement.

“Din…” you sigh now as an ache wide as a canyon rips across your chest. “You can’t go. You don’t even know what else is out there.”

“That’s why I have to go. I have to see and make sure.” Your cowboy replies back with patience woven in his voice.

You’re more upset than he is and you angrily blink back tears over that truth. 

The wilderness is an unforgiving vastness, capable of swallowing up anything it chooses. 

The thought of that scares you more than any mysterious noise or being slinking around your town.

Suddenly a warm calloused hand trails up your cheek. Even after all this time the action sparks a warm current up your spine. When you blink out of your thoughts Din stares down at you with a molten ink gaze begging for you to fall into him, to trust him.

He is considered just as mysterious and dangerous as the wilderness from which he emerged. Just in the same manner that the desert is a cautious beauty, so is Din.

A nose as sharp and defined as a canyon’s peak, cloud soft plush lips, a scruffy beard and mustache that tickle your face, he seems crafted from a dream. 

Din’s thumb runs over your cheek.

Staring up at him, you soak in the sight of this myth of a man. Din sighs and leans down to rest his forehead against yours. 

“You know I'm the only one who can go…”

You know he’s right and it’s why you are terrified.

Closing your eyes you lean into his hand.

“Just come back.” You whisper already hearing tears leak into your voice.

“Always do.” Din’s thick reply doesn’t help your aching heart.

As if on cue Grogu yawns, so heartwarming and sweet as he wiggles to get more comfortable in your arms. You and Din glance at the baby sleeping so peacefully against you. 

“We should follow this little tadpole’s lead and get some rest too,” you mutter. 

Din mutters a hum of an agreement. The three of you move to settle into the bedroom and sink into the warm quilts.

You don’t realize how exhausted you are until your eyes wearily flutter open as strong arms wrap around you from behind.

Din’s all encompassing warmth becomes a beautiful dream lulling you to sleep against his solid frame. His scent, the faintest hint of gunpowder mixing with the rosemary soap you gifted him, settles a peace within you. 

The faintest pressure of his lips kisses your head, a soft good night.

In the morning, you realize it was also a goodbye.

Because when you wake up, your bed greets you cold, and Din is nowhere to be found.

The day passes by in a slow pace that sticks to your bones in a brewing terror. You try to hold grace and a steady strength, to be an unbothered mesquite against the wind.

Especially when you have a sweet little creature to watch over.

You stay at the cabin with Grogu and see the opportunity to work on the various chores you have neglected. You do some weeding, check on the fence, and watch Grogu happily chase after butterflies that flutter around your garden. It all manages to settle the brewing storm trapped in your chest, if only for a moment. 

Thinking of Din facing whatever terrors haunt the town rapidly consumes you as your mind conjures up the worst scenarios. Din might be a force of a man possibly formed of smoke and shadow, still out of your grasp. Yet you want to keep him close and safe. 

Little claws tugging at your leg suddenly snap you out of your thoughts.

Blinking down in surprise, Grogu glanced up at you with worried eyes. His head tilts in confusion. You effortlessly scoop him up into your arms.

“I’m sorry little tadpole,” you poke his nose and earn a shimmering giggle from the baby. “Just got lost in thought. Let’s head in for dinner, yeah?”

His excited squeak brightens your cloudy worry like a sunlight ray.

With the baby happily fed, his eyes fighting to stay awake. So you tuck him into your bed and return to cleaning up for the night.

As you close up the cabinets, wings fluttering dangerously around the cabin dance through the night air and you freeze. 

Something solid collides with a hard thud onto the ground outside. A distorted croak of a noise follows.

The noise sounds close, right outside your door and you hastily move to head outside. 

The lights from inside of your cabin along with the lantern on the front porch illuminate the midnight sky. Against the darkness, a looming silhouette slowly drags itself closer towards the cabin. It stops and curls over with hunched shoulders. The shape reminds you of a cornered animal hiding within itself from the light. 

Then a distorted creak of your name whispers out soft as if it could be snagged on the desert’s foliage.

You sob Din’s name out into the midnight wilderness. 

You rush out to him, relieved. Panic however rushes in like a broken damn when you reach him.

His body pitches forward and in a scramble you manage to steady him.

In this form he towers over you with an intimidating height. Yet this mythical monster, this tender creature, allows you to steady him into the cabin as best as you can.

After managing to sit him on the floor beside the table, the sigh of him now has you paralyzed in terror.

A gash runs against the top of Din’s head with blood trickling softly down his face. Rips and scratches can be seen on his wings even with them folded against his back. Various wounds run across his chest and his claws have blood already drying on them.

Rushing to the cabinets, you grab as many supplies as you can and spill them onto the table. You reach for the salve first to treat the wound on his head. 

“What happened?!” Your hands shake as you scoop out the healing salve. 

“I’m….fine.” In this form his voice creaks and sounds distorted, as if it holds the weight of all the secrets in the mountains. However, his breaths come out labored, thick, gurgled and fear pulses with a deadly toxin through your body.

His pitch black eyes wearily glaze over as he stares at you.

You have never seen him this injured and seriously wounded.

Fighting the tears becomes harder as you rub the medicine onto the gash against his head. You need to tend to his chest wounds next but it’s hard to focus with questions and dread filling your body.

A worried little noise shatters your anxious thoughts. You rapidly turn around. Grogu, wide away, waddles towards you and Din with worried wide wet eyes. 

“Little love,” you say tenderly cautious. “It’s alright I’m helping your papa-“

“Wait…let the kid come.” Din interjects. 

Grogu scurries closer until you simply pick him up and bring him to his father.

Din then begins speaking in clicks and chitters, gurgle-like noises only him and Grogu seem to understand. You feel out of place yet completely absorbed watching Grogu so endearingly try to grab at his father.

“Let me take the kid.” Din coughs out.

“Din.” You cautiously press.

“It’ll be alright.” He reassures with a dangerous wheeze that does not reassure your rapidly terrorized heart. But you hand him Grogu who stares at Din with glistening teary eyes.

You keep yourself busy by moving to place wraps and more salve onto Din’s wings.

Father and son exchange more click like chirps. You move to tend to his chest wounds. Then the scratches softly melt away, like magic.

You gasp and almost drop everything in your hands.

“S’all right honey.” Din calls to you low and eased. Your eyes whip up to him. Grogu’s hands are against Din’s chest and his eyes are so adorably focused. The realization settles in quickly. Your little tadpole is doing this.

The baby has healing abilities, like a legend out of a children’s bedtime story. Then again, to the town and to many others, these two creatures in your cabin would be mistaken as demons who crawled out of a nightmare. But to you they are precious, your most dearest boys. 

“You two can heal?” You mutter out still stunned.

“In a way, yes.” Din replies still hoarse.

The chest wounds are all the baby can heal before his eyes flutter hazy and exhaustion takes over. Both you and Din rapidly move to steady his little body as he falls asleep from exhaustion.

“Let me take him.” 

Din allows you to tuck the baby back into the quilts of your bed.

Your name floats out from Din a hoarse whisper. Hot tears bubble in your eyes as you return to your creature’s side. 

“What happened?” You ask again this time hoping for an answer.

Din gives it to you. 

He discovered what has been terrorizing the town.

“A group of bandits.” Din explains wearily. “They ambushed me but managed to get a few of them.”

If they were bandits, then what creatures were making those sounds at night? 

The truth, you realize, sits right here on your wooden cabin floors.

“The bandits are like you.” You mutter out.

Din nods solemn, serious and your heart plummets straight into your stomach. 

“What are they doing here?” You whisper low as if someone miles away could catch this conversation.

“Migrated here. Their kind jump from town to town, taking all they can and then leave.”

Your mind thinks of a plague of locus, deadly and all consuming. 

“And the innkeeper?” You wearily ask.

Din shakes his head, a somber answer that needs no further explanation. Your throat closes tight.

These creatures, these bandits, would not stop or be satisfied until they get their fill.

Suddenly a soft face nuzzles into the hollow of your neck. A rumbling vibration runs up your skin and through your entire body. He’s purring. You’ve heard this sound before but this, this feels like his attempt to soothe you.

You gently wrap your arms around his large monstrous form as much as you can. Din burrows his face more against your neck as if he hopes to dig past your skin.

“Din careful, you’re injured.” The words leave you a scared, worried sob.

“I know just..need to be close to you.” His purring becomes louder, a stronger attempt to comfort you. 

“I’ll keep you and the kid safe.” Din mutters in his gravel filled voice.

One of his clawed hands curls against you gently to draw you closer.

“No one will hurt you.” He vows and it rings with a conviction unwavering and hauntingly somber.

“But you got hurt.” You cough through tears thinking of his blood drying on your hand. 

“Doesn’t matter. I will keep hurting, I will keep killing. Anything to protect you.”

His voice in this form seeps with danger, a venomous animalistic tone that should be a warning. But hearing those words, realizing the blood you wiped from his claws was not his…

A wave of slick dizzying heat licks up your body down to your core. 

He is your protector, your shadowy creature consecrated from legends. And you love him. 

Din inhales against your skin as if he smells this shift in your body. Maybe he possibly has because your cowboy begins to kiss your neck tenderly. 

Fangs, dangerous sharpened fangs, lie behind those lips. Yet he kisses with a gentleness trying to cover every inch of skin you will give him.

“Din, you’re injured.” you remind him again and your bounty hunter exhales shakily.

“There’s...a way you can help heal me.” His voice now shrinks back, soft and hesitant. 

“Wait.” Your thoughts clarify with a rapid sharpness. “There is?”

You would give him anything to save him, to help him.

Din draws his head up from the warmth of your neck and you find an ache missing his presence.

In any form, human or not, your cowboy is a beautiful sight. His completely consumed coal eyes avert from your watch. A bashful earnestly flickers over his ghastly features and an ache rises in you to soothe him.

Leaning forward you kiss his rough cheek with all the affection you can.

“Whatever you need,” you reassure your monster. “I’m yours Din.” 

His body moves rapidly. His large form curls against you,  a towering shadow. Din dives his face back to your neck as he starts to burrow his nose against your skin.

Suddenly his tongue draws out and begins to lick at you. It’s long, and you remember how snakelike it was when you first saw it. Your eyes close as you wonder if this is his attempt at soothing you once more.

Then he bites into the base of your neck and your eyes snap open wide.

Instinctively, like an animal caught in a trap, your body lurches forward. Pain sharply runs up your neck and warm liquid trickles onto your skin. 

Then, Din begins to suck.

He starts to suck and drink from your blood.

Your heart hammers a thunderous drumming in your ears. You have never done this with him. You’ve been intimate with your cowboy before and never shy away from his more createrous form. 

But… the secret cavern of your hearts, not even wanting to face this truth yourself, a part of you wondered with a dangerous temptation what it would be like to be intimate with Din in this form. 

Your mind tries to steady itself on this new frontier you are about to explore. Suddenly a sharp wave of arousal washes over you so fast your eyes roll back. 

Your body goes slack in Din’s large arms while a blissful moan escapes you. 

“Shh…” Din mutters a low gurgle against your skin. “Not too loud.”

You can’t wake the babe asleep in the other room and this is the last solid thought you hold onto. 

Because your mind quickly melts as if a desert mirage has blurred your reality. A heated fever burns across your skin. So much slick pools between your legs that you feel it dripping. Now your body thrashes with the pleasure of wanting to get closer to Din as much as you can. You press your lips tight to stay silent. 

Din’s sharp fangs nip at your skin. He rapidly alternates between drinking your blood and licking at the wound.

Your mouth waters in a way you didn’t think pleasure could draw this reaction out of you. Soaked in this lust, you feel intoxicated and you don’t seem to be the only one.

Din rapidly laps at your blood and hums an animalistic noise that rages through your entire body.

“Taste so good.” Your cowboy slurs barely focused himself. “Knew you’d taste s’good.”

Pleasure builders faster and faster now. Your legs twitch trying to relieve the aching arousal but you don’t want this to stop. It’s delicious, pure pleasure, one that melts the skin off your bones and transcends you into a sacredness you can’t describe. Because this tastes sacred in both a delicious and dangerous way. 

“Din.” You quietly moan his name out and he clutches onto you harder as you feel his own body beginning to grin against you.

Din sucks harder, fervently, and doubles the dizzying heat surging through you. 

You’re getting close. The way your mind teeters between consciousness and bliss it feels like you are tiptoeing on the edge of a cavern’s abyss and will fall in at any moment.

Suddenly Din pulls away from your neck. The cold air prickles against your skin and a chill crawls up your body.

“Wha-” you slur your question. But before you can ask, the sight of Din steals your breath and thoughts. 

His shoulders heave heavy and rise with rapid breathing. His obsidian eyes gleam wild and raw, almost possessive as he stares down at your body. His fangs, his beautifully monstrous maw is soaked with blood, your blood. 

Before you can process this sight, your bounty hunter acts with the speed of a rattlesnake striking. His claws tear apart your night gown undergarments with a sounding rip.

You feel a surprise squeak die in the back of your throat.

This creature of a cowboy flings himself down between your legs with a feral franticness, a being possessed. 

Then that long tongue of his takes a smooth swipe up your soaked folds. Your body shakes, falling into the abyss. Your eyes roll back as numbing black out pleasure swallows you whole.

The shop thankfully has been quiet all day. The shop owner, Annalise, and her husband left for the nearby town to visit family. So they told you. But you knew it was fear, the same fear driving out more and more of the town.  

An eerie emptiness has settled among the shops as if ghosts themselves have moved into their vacancy. The town slowly rots away into a bone like shell of itself. Even the dread has begun leaking into you.

As you currently repair a skirt, the gentle silence that once comforted you itches your skin with an edge of unease .

The day is almost over. That comfort alone keeps you sturdy among the waves of worry. 

A small thud of something falling comes. Then a little giggle follows.

Amusement tugs at your lips. Setting your work down you go investigate the scene of the crime.

There off to the side, Grogu sits happily tangled up in various colors of yarn. He must have pulled them down trying to climb up on the shelves here behind the counter. 

Grogu with his angelic black eyes blinks up at you with red yarn hanging off his strange ears. He giggles again so playfully as he beams up at you. The baby begins babbling, holding up more of the yarn to show you his handiwork. 

“Yes I see you.” You tease back.

Kneeling down to sit on the floor with him, you start gently untangling this adorable mess. 

“You’re always just going to be my little trouble maker, aren’t you?” You fondly say mainly to yourself. Yet Grogu chirps a noise sounding like an agreement.

He came into your life this exact same way.

With a sneaky entrance and a giggle, you had first found this strange little creature in your garden. From that moment seeing his wide midnight eyes blink up at you with herbs in his mouth, your life has never been the same. But it has been blown into a beautiful new direction with such ease you never want to change. 

“Definitely grateful Annalise isn’t here now.” You tell Grogu as he wiggles his arms watching your move and shift the yarn. “She wouldn’t appreciate you messing with her very meticulous and organized yarn arrangement.”

Of course she wouldn’t have appreciated seeing this strange sweet babe of a creature. It’s why whoever kept the baby had him hidden in bags or under cloaks.

Having him here with you at the tailor shop, sitting so freely on the floor, you understand walks a fine dangerous line, even with the vacant town. 

But you wanted to keep your sweet little tadpole close to you more than ever.  

“I’m also grateful your papa is getting some rest.” A distant wistful tone floats into your voice. 

“Mweh.” Grogu replies back in his strange bell-like voice.

Since he arrived home from the bandits ambush three days ago, Din has slept under the blankets of your bed. 

His continuous slumber reminds you vaguely of bears that rest in their caves during the winter. You wonder if the same goes for Din. After such a difficult fight, sleep and rest provide an ultimate form of healing. 

When you first peeked under the blankets to check on Din, you found him resting peacefully and fully human. Now with a soft kiss goodbye to your cowboy every morning, you let him sleep and heal.

Grogu, as mischievous as he is, still is his father’s son. He begins helping you with the yarn by carrying as much as he can in his little arms. You warmly thank him and Grogu beams proudly as he continues wiggling out of the tangles.

The door to the shop creaks open.

Sundown approaches fast. Who could be coming in at this late in the day?

“Stay here and don’t move.” You softly tell Grogu with a pat to his head. You rise to greet the customers.

Instead you discover newcomers, strangers you do not know, and it’s a group of them. 

Their leader, a man with sharp eyes saunters towards your counter.  A deadly shift circulates in the air the way it does when a viper is spotted slithering across the sands.

“Why ‘ello there lovely.” The stranger coos with a disgusting seductive undertone that has you frowning.

Bandits, these have to be the bandits Din spoke of.

“Can I help you?” You ask sharp.

The leader’s lips twitch playful.

“Name’s Vane,” he introduces himself. “Didn’t think I’d find someone as lovely as you here.”

You stay quiet, staring hard. 

“You know, it’s polite manners to introduce yourself.” The bandit named Vane offers coyly almost teasingly. His comrades snicker and you again stay silent.

You’ve seen your share of bandits that have rode into town. But these men infesting your tailor shop are not like the others. That thought alone infects you with a petrifying venom.

“What do you want? There’s nothing here you all could possibly need.” You argue steady and calm..

“See, that’s where ya wrong lovely.” Vane purrs with a gleam in his eyes. He takes deep sniffs once and twice. 

His face melts into a deeper pleased smile. 

“There’s something very important here.”

Something inside of you screams to scoop the baby into your arms and flee. Din gifted you a beautiful dagger months ago. You know it’s not much but threatening a weapon might be your next option.

“Aw,” one of the bandits frowns at you. “What’s the sad face for, pretty?”

“I need you all to leave.” Gathering all your strength you try standing your ground even. 

They laugh wild cackles that put the crows to shame and your stomach twists sick with a tangible dread. 

“Fellas, why don’t you do as the lady says and leave.”

Mayor Karga’s voice floats into the shop, a sturdy safeline. The bandits all turn in surprise at the new intruder who stares at them hard and determined.

“Ah, Mayor Karga! Good to see ya!” The bandit named Vane greets him.

“Why don’t we have our reunion somewhere else.” Karga urges firm.

Then his eyes turn to you with golden reassurance and he nods.

“Why don’t you head on home for the night?”

All you can do is nod back. Falling to the floor, you scramble and gather Grogu into your satchel. Of course the baby, just like his father, thankfully stays close to you.

“It’s alright,” you softly comfort him as you kiss the top of his fuzzy sweet head. “We’ll be home soon.”

You rise up and find the bandits have disappeared. So caught up in your panic and trying to reassure Grogu you didn't even hear or notice their exit. 

For some reason, their absence terrifies you more. 

When you step outside the town is bathed in dusk’s glow. Someone calls out your name.

There a few steps away Mayor Karga grins at you.

“I apologize for that encounter earlier. Might I escort you home? I’d like to make sure you make it back safe.”

You’re grateful for your town’s mayor. A steadfast calm and sturdy soul whose company you gladly accept.

“Where did the bandits go?” You cautiously ask.

“How did you know they were bandits?” Karga now curiously asks you.

“A good guess,” you sleepily reply back. “Haven’t seen them around town before.”

Thankfully the answer appeases Karga enough as he sighs.

“I know the town believes it’s some type of… monster living in the mountains that’s been disrupting the town. But I have no doubt it’s really those bandits.”

A heaviness shit in your chest as you wish you could agree that both possibilities are true. 

“Now ain’t that just rude? Accusing us of somethin’ you have no proof of.”

Vane’s shrill voice slices through the ghost town and it steals the air from your lungs.

When you and Karga turn around the bandit already holds his pistol drawn with a coy eased expression.

“Just at least let the shop keeper go. This is between us.” Karga snaps fiercely as his hand rests now on his own gun.

“Actually, that pretty ‘lil thing is more interesting than you Mister Mayor.” Vane’s smile oozes with disgusting glee.

Boots crunch on the path in front of you and when you whip back forward, more bandits have arrived circling you and the Mayor like a pack of coyotes ready to strike.

“I’ll draw their fire, you run. Run as fast as you can.” Karga whispers low panicked. 

The loud bang of a shot pierces the early evening.

You almost jump out of your skin hearing the gun go off. But one of the bandits drops flat onto the gravel path. 

An unearthly hollowness snaps the air tight. Everyone, including yourself, rapidly tries to find the new gunslinger.

Another gunshot comes. 

Another bandit collapses dead.

“Come out ‘ere!” One of the bandits roars. “Show yourself ya fucking coward!”

Materializing from the shadows himself, Din simply struts out from between the cover of two buildings. His rifle is drawn.

He’s here. Your cowboy, your bounty hunter, is awake and he’s here.

Din has never looked as striking and beautiful as he does now. A force of pure steeled power and precision he stands broad, intimidating. His black bandana hides his face. But from under the cover of his hat his eyes glare blazing furious fires. 

“Your fight is with me.” Din snarls to Vane, fierce yet deadly composed.

“You damn BASTARD!” Vane barks back. 

The gun fight erupts in a blink and flurry of bullets. A terrified scream escapes you before you can even stop it. But with chaos and terror swirling all around, you summon all the courage you have left.

You draw the satchel housing Grogu close to your chest and you run for cover.

Bullets fly in screeching fury and your heart rages fast within its cage in your chest. You want to help Din. But you need to protect the baby.

A voice sounding so close to Din’s screams, urges, inside of you to run. 

So you flee as fast as you can from the town. You imagine wings sprout from your feet and carry you to your safe harbor in the wilderness. The bullets firing grows distant. Your cabin begins peeking over the horizon against the watercolor sunset bleeding into the early night sky.

Safety beckons you. It is right there just at your grasp.

A monsterous screech suddenly shatters the peace around your cabin.

The flapping of wings, furious and loud swoop in the wind and, out of instinct, you lean down away from the sky and cover Grogu. 

Then it happens in a fast collapse. 

Something sharp slices across your shoulder. Pain shoots through your body fast and unforgiving. You scream, faltering in your steps. Grogu cries out in a concerned sob but you hold him tighter refusing to let whatever took a swipe at you get the baby. 

A loud thud lands. When you glance up, a creature rises before you. 

His appearance vaguely reminded you of Din. Except this creature with a sharp beak and covered in scales is thinner in size compared to your cowboy. 

“Thought you could hide from me, did ya?” The distorted voice of Vane seethes at you.

His shoulders and wings hunch in a terrifying tension suggesting he can strike at any moment. However, crimson drips down his side and colors the dirt path. He’s injured. 

“But it’s hard to hide when y’er damn bastard mate’s smell is all over ya!” Vane hisses through gritted jagged rotting teeth.

Grogu wiggles in your arms almost in a determined fidget. But you stay frozen before the bandit, a jackrabbit staring down its hunter.  

In this life, in this harsh wilderness you exist within, you have faced danger in their various forms. You think of the first time you encountered Din this way. When you first saw him, a creature from the dark shadows, it reminded you of how small and human you are.

Except now, you wonder if this is pure terror you face.

“M’gonna rippin’ you and that babe apart.” Vane grins with a rotting smile. 

Like a released spring, the bandit flings himself towards you.

A blur of a force collides fast into Vane before the bandit can even reach you.

In his creature state Din slams Vane violently down into the dirt. He howls at the bandit, his fanged jaws open wide in a frightening threat. 

This fight, just like the shoot out that broke out, erupts in a blink. 

However, unlike the gunfight, your eyes fall under a spell and cannot look away.

The sight of these two creatures doesn’t seem possible. Yet, the snarling slash of teeth, the rapid movements, it all seems more real and raw more than anything you have ever seen. 

Larger and healthier in his form, Din wrestles Vane down with a smooth ease. Sharpened claws swipe at the other with the intent to kill. The two brawl hard picking up dust and dirt in the evening sky.

Suddenly, Din shifts. In that moment he grasps Vane in his arms and towers over the bandit. Then Din digs his talons into Vane. With the same effort you have seen Din take when he peels oranges, he rips off one of Vane’s wings. 

The action is visceral, unholy and Vane screams in absolute agony rattling your bones.

But you have never been more mesmerized by your cowboy. 

Like a hawk that’s captured its prey, Din gathers Vane, along with the ripped appendage, into his grasp and takes flight.

Vane’s screeches, gurgled and violent. Din roars back a bellow you think shakes the mountains to their base.

The monstrous sounds echo into the air. Yet they grow further and further away. You even try to follow Din’s flight in the air. But, the shade of the sunset has faded from its tangerine warmth into a fully stretched out faint blue bleeding into midnight. The edges of the deep dark sky swallows any sign of Din. 

Then silence falls.

Staring at the mountains against the sky’s tapestry you hope to catch even a glimpse of Din or of any movement. 

Grogu cries a worried chirp in your arms and it breaks your gaze.

You need to get him inside, see if he has any injuries. 

With the door open to listen for Din, to hope and pray he comes back, you take Grogu out of the satchel and begin checking him over. Babbling in his own clicks and chirps, Grogu fidgets with a worried frown on his sweet wrinkly face. His little clawed hand reaches out to you with a stubborn stretch. 

“Hold still, little tadpole.” You breathlessly plead with him. A heaviness slowly creeps into your legs as if anchors have been tied around them.

The rush of boots run across your patio. When you whip your attention to the open doorway, Din rapidly is hurrying inside.

In his human state, his clothes are torn from the fight and blood already dries all over him.

Those wonderful eyes of his stare wide and petrified. 

In fast steps Din rushes to your side.

“Are you alright?!” You croak out trying to breathe through the dizzying relief of seeing your bounty hunter home and alive. 

“Your shoulder!” Din snaps. “You should be resting!”

In the whirlwind of adrenaline and panic you had forgotten about your shoulder. At his comment, you fully become aware of the stinging wound and the blood soaking your blouse to your body.

“It’s just a little blood and doesn’t feel deep. I’m alright.” You mutter reassuring Din who already begins inspecting your shoulder.

Exhaustion and the rush of this day, of this week, however causes your legs to buckle. Hastily Din’s sturdy hands catch you while you want to hiss at your body for betraying you. 

“What did I say? You need to rest.” He growls.

You can’t fight him anymore, not when he guides you with tender sturdy hands to rest. 

Your mind begins to feel thick and heavy, like you are trekking through a mud pit. You float in and out of your thoughts. 

“I apologize for this.” Din’s sudden voice comes softly beside you and then a rip follows.

He tore your blouse to reach the wound. 

A soft pad of a fabric begins to clean your wound and you hiss at the jolt of pain.

“I know,” Din soothes. “It’ll be over soon.”

All you can do is nod.

You can’t make sense of how much time has passed or how long you’ve even been sitting on the chair. It feels as if years have been crammed into this short day, as if lifetimes have been stitched into this past week.

Out of your haze, you think of the baby and ask where he is. 

“Asleep. Took me a bit to get him to bed. Knew he was fighting me to stay up and make sure we were alright.”

Your lips twitch with deep love for that small creature you now hold in your heart as your own.

“He’s stubborn like his papa.” You mutter back with a hint of amusement.

Din however stays quiet. 

A heaviness as thick as a thunderstorm hangs in the hush of your cabin.

Focusing out of your hazy thoughts, you worry Din is injured and refusing to tell you. When you are about to ask, Din speaks first by calling out your name. 

“I am sorry… for putting you in danger.” A hoarse emotion has struck its barbs into your bounty hunter. 

“For frightening you.” Din continues, his voice growing distant and you worried might get caught on the fence outside the cabin. 

“And…for being a monster.” His voice cracks, shattering your heart within its wake.

You blink through tears to where Din sits beside you.

“The things I did, what you saw...” His eyes refuse to meet yours. 

Torment furrows his brows and an ancient ache hardens over his handsome features. For being someone who faced bloodshed and pain, who existed in a split life so feared by many, his heart is so tender and golden. 

“You could never frighten me.” You whisper tear soaked.

So you bare your heart before him.

He’s protected you, cared for you, showed you a tenderness you believed would never find you. 

You think of those who love the mountains, love the beauty and the terror carved into the peaks. You will love Din the same until the very last of your days.

You will love his pain, his claws and his golden heart. 

Even at hearing your heart being spilled before him, Din shakes his head adamantly stubborn.

“Do you remember when you came and checked on me before that big storm came?” You begin. 

Back then, you were convinced this hardened bounty hunter with his hard glare hated you. Yet he showed up with a blanket full of supplies. Even after much urging on your part, him and the baby stayed in your cabin to pass the storm. 

Din finally glances at you with his rich earth eyes and he nods.

“That was when I knew I wanted to be yours.” You earnestly tell him. 

Even knowing what he was, after seeing the core of who Din is, a gentle, protective and honorable man - you wanted so badly to be his. 

“Will you let yourself be mine? Can I love you the way you love me?” This love rips apart your voice, cracks you raw and open.

Din leans forward and kisses you. The smell of dust and his sweat overwhelm your senses. The kiss is hasty, more desperate than anything as his lips continue to seek yours. You already want to mold yourself to him. Yet as fast as he kissed you, Din draws back to simply lay his face against yours. He softly rubs his lovely nose to yours.

“I am yours. Will always be yours.” The thick whisper of his voice holds the depth and implications of a thousand lifetimes.

You press back against him wondering if the two you will simply mold into one.

But when you shift ever slightly a sharp stab of pain runs across your shoulder and you flinch in pain. Din of course doesn’t miss this. 

He cautiously says your name, but you reassure him again you’re fine.

“No.” He firmly cuts you off. “You’re not.”

You sigh knowing there is no hope in fighting your cowboy.

“I…there’s a way I can heal you.” He cautiously explains. 

You think of how you helped heal Din. Even through the pain and exhaustion of the day, a simmering curiosity bubbles within you.

You stare deeply into his earthen eyes. “I trust you.”

His eyes widen for a fracture of a moment before he nods ever so reverently at your words. With tender delicate hands he maneuvers your face to expose your sounder. It keeps your attention forward.

Din’s hair tickles your skin as does his soft heated breath. Suddenly his tongue licks a gentle swipe across the wound.

Every inch of you tightens as well as collapses all at once. You dare not move, and wonder if you are even breathing.

His tongue licks through the blood, across the scratch and you find no pain comes from the contact. He’s delicate, almost kitten-like. Slowly emerging like an early morning fog, a tranquil haze falls over you in a soothing like manner.

It’s beautiful, tender and blissfully intoxicating having him tend to you like this. You start wondering if maybe some part of you will arrive at a realization of horror. Yet you find no terror, or disgust within yourself. Only adoration and gratitude fill your body. Dreamily, your hand even begins to run through Din’s soft hair. His tongue swipes and swipes with reverent warmth lulling you.

All too soon suddenly Din kisses your shoulder, your bare fully healed shoulder.

That snaps you wide awake and you scramble turning towards Din. He sleepily stares at you with a peaceful gleam. A soft crimson faintly colors his plush lips and you understand it’s your blood. The image of him in his creature form flutters back to your mind. Your blood coated his mouth then too. 

No fear rose at the sight even then and it does not rise now. You instead move your hand to stroke his cheek.

Din’s eyes shut blissfully as he melts at your touch. 

“How…how is it possible?” You have to ask. 

“It only works with a select few.” Din explains quietly. “Just with those we love, who we see as our own.”

It’s why Grogu was able to heal him. And it made sense why the baby seemed so stubborn earlier about reaching out to you. It’s why you could heal Din. You even realize it’s why there is no wound from where he bit you days ago. 

Love heals - a beautiful remedy and truth old as the wilderness itself. That soft understanding greets you just as kind as the morning breeze.  

You lean forward to embrace Din. Quick as ever he draws you into his arms first. Safe and solid your cowboy’s warmth, you thank him.

You thank him for healing you and for so much more.

The legends of the mountains spoke of indescribable horrors that crawled among their caverns. However out of the wilderness, out from those shadows, Din was brought to you.

And for that, you will always be eternally grateful 

Your cabin was your own personal ghost town before you found a mysterious creature adorably rummaging around your garden. Now Din and his son fill every space of your life with love. Your days are warm, even in the shadows. Even with the terror and fear, you consecrate yourself to this life, burrow your roots into it. 

Yes, your cabin is now filled with monsters, creatures reminding you of the secrets that the wilderness shadows of the wilderness. They are indeed ghost stories brought to life. 

But they are yours. You will house their secrets, become the desert itself and make your heart a wild fortress for Din and the baby to find refuge, to find peace.

And you will lovingly welcome them home with your arms stretched open wide and vast as the mountain range. 

[grimbluesins]

din djarin shouldn’t be in a relationship

and here’s why

————

i’m just gonna put it out there: i think bo-katan/din djarin shippers are reaching.

they’re basically never intimate beyond good friends in the show? i literally saw a tiktok saying how bo was concerned about djarin when he was first going to help nevarro in the pirate raid and how that was cute. like romance-cute.

that’s also just friend things.

the other part was just them sitting with their arms touching.

jesus christ. PLEASE chill out allos for once oh my god.

also read an article about how djarin, bo, and the armorer would be a cool power throuple. now idk but that seems kinda weird.

the armorer is more like an… almost motherly figure to djarin. she’s likely way older than him (based on context clues from the show, i’d guess her age to be in her early-mid 60s), and again, BO IS MORE LIKE A FRIEND. bo and the armorer? i can see that, sure. but din has the vibe of a teenager compared to those two very jaded (and older) women. idk i think it would be kind of weird. i much enjoy him being a single dad running around the galaxy with his wizard goblin toddler.

the only piece of evidence actually supporting this is the “these are the reasons i serve you lady kryze” quote. but again, that definitely feels really disconnected from romance. the way he said it was no different from basically any other line, leading me to believe he literally just wants to help her as a friend. bo’s got a whole new planet to rebuild and rule after all.

as an aro-ace dude myself, i really enjoy good ships. but fans need to learn to leave some characters alone. smh. can we have this ONE GUY PLEASE.

often times, i will hc a certain character as aro-ace (shadow the hedgehog, batman, and gray fullbuster come to mind) but still enjoy a certain pairing. din djarin is one of the few characters who i absolutely do not want to see in a romantic or sexual relationship.

so, allo fans: i understand the ship zone. but please leave some guys alone for the sanity of your aspec friends.

not to mention, in the finale, he literally was just a single dad watching over his kid playing in the yard. he never ended up with anyone. not bo, not the armorer, not luke or boba, nobody. it was just him and his silly wizard goblin toddler. as it should be. stop forcing allonormativity on everything.

tl;dr, leave din djarin to the aspecs.

🧡💛🤍🩵💙 🖤🩶🤍💜 💚💛🤍🩶🖤

[itsjuststardust]

Heaven in Hiding - Chapter 7: The Choice

Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Mando faces a choice on Sorgan. A choice he didn't expect to have to make so soon.

Word Count: 11,305

Author's Notes/Chapter Warnings: When I initially started plotting this story, I really wasn’t expecting to spend so much time on Sorgan, but after going back through that episode, Cara Dune mentions that they’d been there for weeks… and... well… A lot can happen when you’re stuck in close quarters for a few weeks… Who am I to not give Alaina and Din the chance to get to know one another? There is some dialogue from “Sanctuary” that is not mine, but I've used it where I see it fits within both the original and my story. There is one mention of unaliving oneself. There is a brief discussion about s e x (gasp). Lastly, there is a sprinkle of angst. Enjoy 🩶 MINORS - DO NOT INTERACT - 18+ ONLY

Chapter 7: The Choice

“Not again.”

Not again. He wasn’t putting the girl and the kid through the Empire again.

“Mando.”

He saw that walker's footprint in the forest ground and saw red. 

It felt like something inside of his chest slid into place. Some part of him that had laid dormant for years was suddenly woken up by the feeling of this strange cord winding its way through his chest until it snaked around every vital organ and then cinched into place.

He knew without a fraction of a doubt that they needed to leave. That he needed to get Alaina and Grogu and get them off this planet. 

Of all the places he could have chosen, he picked the one with an Imperial presence on it. 

“Mando,” Alaina pleaded again.

How could the girl even still defend staying here, knowing that she was a breath away from possibly being captured again—

“Mando.”

“I told you, it’s not up for debate,” he growled lowly, shaking his head.

“No, Mando,” Alaina whispered, “you’re hurting me.”

His helmet snapped to her at her statement. He was surprised to find that they had somehow made it back inside of their shack, and he still had her arm in his grasp. His fingers were digging so tightly into her bicep that he felt the delicate limb would snap in half if any more force was applied to it.

Abruptly, he released her arm with a mumbled, “Sorry.”

Alaina and Grogu stared at him with equally large eyes. He shook his head, clearing the rest of his panicked tunnel vision from his mind, and took a step further into the room to start evaluating what needed to be packed.

Alaina seemed to study him for a moment before she walked silently to the crib to place Grogu. The kid stood up in the wooden crib, gripping the edge of his bed, and looked back and forth between the two adults.

Mando ignored his new companions' wary looks as he started gathering some of their belongings to store in one of the crates. To his surprise, Alaina started stripping the bed and folding the sheets and bedding without another word.

“I know you don’t agree,” he mumbled as he picked up one of his crates and placed it next to the door.

Alaina shrugged her shoulders as she started folding his old tunic she had been sleeping in the last few days. “I don’t want to go back,” she started quietly. “I don’t want to go back so much that I would kill myself before I let that happen again.”

Mando froze at her words. The terrifying image of Alaina shoving the weasel-looking doctor down to the ground… Her sad green eyes as she looked back at him one last time before she lifted the doctor’s blaster under her chin…

“I appreciate you looking out for us,” she continued, giving him a sad smile. “Really,” she nodded. “I know it may not seem like it sometimes, but in my defense, our past is... complicated at best, and it kinda feels like I’m waiting for the other boot to drop,” she smirked, but her smile was short-lived, and her eyes still remained sad. “I guess… I don’t know what I’m trying to say," she stopped herself with a shake of her head. "I don’t think it’s my place to say anything.”

“Go on,” he nodded for her to continue, but she looked back skeptically. “This isn’t the Empire, Alaina. You have a right to voice your concerns. Doesn’t mean that I will change my mind—” Alaina rolled her eyes, “but that shouldn’t stop you from speaking up.”

“Maker forbid you have to admit you might be wrong about something,” she mumbled, shaking her head at him.

He cocked his helmet and took a step closer to her. “You’re here, aren’t you?” he pointed out, and Alaina’s mouth snapped shut.

When she continued to stare at him, he stretched his hand out to motion for her to continue.

Alaina pursed her lips and stared at him for another beat before continuing. “I’m not used to being on this side of your wrath,” she admitted, studying his helmet. “Wrath maybe isn’t the right word… protectiveness perhaps? I’m not sure which description is more appropriate, although I suppose time will tell,” she paused for a moment, and her eyes finally flicked away from his head. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone looking out for me.”

“Is there an argument in there somewhere, or are you going to help get the rest of our stuff packed up?” Mando nodded to the small mess of belongings and weapons scattered across the small shack from their short time here.

Her eyes slid back to rest on his helmet. “Do you know what the difficult thing for me to understand about you is?” Alaina asked, crossing her arms over her chest. 

Mando tilted his head at the question. There was no telling what things Alaina could not understand about him. Hell, he didn’t understand everything about him, especially when Alaina was concerned. 

Alaina’s eyes softened before she continued. “You have the ability to be protective, kind, and caring. I’ve experienced it myself first hand,” she paused to shrug her shoulders. “But you can be unflinching, abrupt, and lethal when you need to. It just depends on who you’ve given your word to. Five years ago, you gave your word you’d turn me in, and you did. Now, you gave me your word that we’re under your protection, and I believe you. I may not trust you fully. I may never. But I’ve never questioned your word.” She paused again, and he could already guess what she was going to say next. “You gave your word to those people.”

He let out a frustrated sigh and shook his head, “That was before we knew about the possible Imperial remnants and that AT-ST.”

Alaina crossed the small distance between them in three small steps and looked up at his helmet with her emerald doe-eyes. “These people came to you, Mando. I vouched for you! I told Omera you were a man of your word.”

“So, what do you suggest I do?” he asked, making her think through her suggestion of staying here.

Alaina seemed surprised by the question. “Give them a choice,” she answered as if it were the most obvious solution in the galaxy.

He blinked, “A choice?”

“They held up their end of the bargain—their healers helped me, and they gave us a place to stay. They stood by their word. Now it’s your turn,” she stated, poking at the middle of his chest. “You know what they’re up against… Just—just talk to them, Mando. Explain to them what they are up against. If they all want to move, then they can move… but if they want to fight…”

“They’ll die,” he answered easily.

Alaina turned her pleading expression up a notch. “Not if they have your help. You and Cara may not be able to take them by yourselves, but what if you had an entire village behind you? You have weapons—plenty of weapons,” she paused to point at a stack of crates in the corner filled with his entire weapons locker that he wasn’t about to leave behind.

Mando was silent as he contemplated the suggestion. Even with the help of the villagers, it was the help of a handful of shrimp farmers. 

“Did you see any Imperial soldiers?” Alaina questioned, staring up at him with a curious expression.

He shook his head, “Didn’t need to. The Imperial walker tracks were enough evidence for us to turn around.”

“What if it was just left behind?” she asked, and he narrowed his gaze at the spark he saw catch in her eyes. “I spent the last five years with Imps. I hear things. Troopers would talk all the time about how when they would get pulled off planets or when they fled, they would leave basically everything behind. The Empire was more worried about making sure they still had people, and some of their tech was more of an afterthought. What if that walker was just left behind for some random thugs to find?” Alaina suggested, and Mando had a hard time arguing with her logic. “Think about it! That makes more sense than the Empire going after a small farming community.”

He heaved a sigh, “Then you have a bunch of thugs operating a very large, deadly piece of equipment. They won’t be trained. They’ll be unpredictable.”

“But you and Cara could still help! You know what you’re doing—”

“And there is still the chance that we’re dealing with Imps,” he interrupted, hoping to make Alaina see reason.

“Mando,” she started slowly, and her hand came to rest in the center of his chestpiece. “I know you’re worried about Grogu and me, but if we aren’t safe here in a backwater skughole like Sorgan," she paused to give him the whisp of a smile and a small shrug of her shoulders, "where will we be?”

He stared into her green eyes and hopeful face. He didn’t know how Alaina was always able to look at him and find a way to meet his eyes hiding under his helmet almost every time, but it was becoming unnerving.

Mando took a step away from Alaina, and her eyes tracked him as he walked to the door. When his hand reached for the door, he turned to look back at Alaina and tilted his head. “You coming, or did you change your mind?” 

Alaina’s face broke into a smile. Mando shook his head as he watched her turn back to grab the kid, who was already holding his hands up for her to pick him up. Alaina smiled at the kid and rubbed at one of his ears until she came back to join him at the door.

He opened the door for her and ushered her outside to talk to the villagers.

It turned out not to be a very long walk because a flock of them was already gathered a few meters from their porch. A few recognizable faces, including Omera and Dune, were in the front row, waiting for him to exit the small shack. 

He didn’t miss the way Dune’s eyes slid to Alaina before looking back at him with a raised eyebrow.

He leaned against one of the posts holding up the porch. “Bad news, you can’t live here anymore,” he started, his words causing an instant commotion amongst the crowd of villagers.

Alaina’s head snapped to shoot him an irritated glare. “Mando,” she growled under her breath.

Dune shot him an equally disbelieving look and came to stand on the opposite side of the post from him on the small deck. “Nice bedside manner,” she snarked. “Here I was thinking you’d let Alaina change your mind.”

“You and me both,” Alaina grumbled from the other side of him.

“You think you can do better?” he asked the soldier next to him with a challenging tilt of his helmet.

Dune rolled her eyes, “Can’t do much worse.”

The crowd's angry murmurs slowly escalated in front of them, and Mando lifted an arm back up before they turned into an angry mob.

“You took the job!” one of the men in the front row reminded him. “We paid you. We helped tend to your wounded!”

Alaina, not so subtly, elbowed him in his side.

“That was before we knew about the AT-ST,” he replied easily.

“What is that?” the man asked, clearly unfamiliar with the terminology.

“The armored walker with two enormous guns that you knew about and didn’t tell us,” Dune shot back.

The crowd seemed to discuss this for a moment before their voices climbed back to a roar again.

Cries and pleas for their help murmured around them and he looked to Alaina when he felt her elbow dig further into his side.

Her large emerald eyes stared back at him, and he tilted his helmet at her. “If they aren’t brave enough to offer their lives, then it’s not worth my time to train them.” Alaina seemed to consider this for a moment before she nodded and turned back to the crowd.

“Please. We have nowhere else to go,” another nameless face at the front begged.

“Sure you do,” Dune started. “This is a big planet.”

“My grandparents seeded these ponds.”

“We’ve been here for generations!”

“I’ve seen Mando—I’ve seen them both fight,” Alaina spoke up, surprising both him and Dune. It didn’t look like Alaina was going to bring up the fact that she saw them both fight each other, but that probably wasn’t going to help her case. “This isn’t just some small band of raiders like you led them to believe. If it were, they would have taken care of your problem already.” Mando blinked in surprise at Alaina’s defense of his skill. “This is an Imperial walker, possibly manned by trained soldiers. You should have been upfront with them.” Some of the villagers, including the two who had sought him out, seemed suitably chastised by her words. “Besides, there’s just two of them.”

Ah, he smirked to himself. Leading the question. Sneaky.  

Mando kept his helmet directed at the crowd, analyzing their reactions to Alaina’s statement. The villagers murmured low as they appeared to be talking amongst themselves. Several looked fearful, but the looks of determination among them outweighed the rest.

“No, there’s not! There’s at least twenty of us!” one of the men up front called out, looking around at his fellow villagers standing behind him.

He could see Alaina smirk out of the corner of his eye. Apparently, she was satisfied with herself.

“Yeah!” a chorus of villagers agreed.

Dune scoffed, “Be realistic. We need trained fighters.”

“Give us a chance!” the villagers called.

Mando turned his helmet to share another look with Alaina. Her emerald eyes sparkled in the late afternoon sun, and she couldn’t hide the smirk that was slowly breaking out into a full grin across her face.

“You cannot fight that thing!” Cara all but laughed at the suggestion.

Mando’s helmet swiveled on its axis from Alaina to Dune, “Not unless we show them how.”

Mando had his crates of weapons open in the middle of the shack, organizing them into one crate with blasters and weapons he could use to train the villagers while leaving the more deadly weapons, like his backup magnetic bombs, flash bombs, and grenades, behind.

He pushed the crate he was planning on taking down to the open fields by the door and stretched his back out. 

Somehow, he’d let Alaina talk him into ‘sharing’ the bed with her again. Yesterday was her first full day awake since her fit, as he called it, and he could see how exhausted it had left her. The kid had gone down easily, and Alaina had gone behind the small partition in the room to change back into his tunic before collapsing onto the bed. 

He was about to tell her he was taking the floor again when she looked up at him and said, “Thank you for sitting with me last night. I can’t remember the last time I got any real sleep without having nightmares.”

It was a combination of her words, those huge emerald doe-eyes, and his exhaustion, but against his better judgment, he went to sit next to Alaina on the bed.

She raised her knees to her chest, tucking them under her borrowed tunic, making her a blob with blonde hair next to him. Alaina wrapped her arms around her knees and rested her right cheek on top of them so she could stare at him.

“Mando?” When she finally spoke, her words were a whisper, like she was afraid to wake him up.

“Mmm?”

“Is this real?”

His helmet turned to look at her, confused by her question.

“Is this real? You really saved me? This isn’t some kind of trick? You’re not gonna give me back?”

He froze, and the cord that had wrapped around the organs inside his chest tugged painfully around his heart. Is that what she really thought? That this was some nefarious plot that would end with her back in the hands of the Imps?

“Alaina,” he said, his voice low as not to wake the kid but no less lacking every ounce of conviction he could muster. “Alaina, this isn’t a trick. You’re never going back there, do you understand? I’m going to take care of you both until we find someplace that is right for you and the kid. Until then, you and the kid… you two are under my protection.”

He could see tears gathering in her eyes. The water reflected the moonlight that crept in through the cracks in the wood planks, and the silver light almost completely obscured her green eyes from his view.

In a surprising move, he watched in slow motion as Alaina’s left arm unwrapped from around her legs and reached over the small distance between them to rest on top of his gloved hand.

“I still haven’t forgiven you,” she whispered in the dark. 

Mando nodded and turned his helmet to look forward. He hadn’t expected anything more from her. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness—her hand squeezed his, and he looked down at the small, delicate hand holding tightly to his.

“But… maybe someday I will.”

His eyes closed at her words, and he gripped her hand back. He didn’t deserve her forgiveness, but he would be lying to himself if he denied that he hoped for it. 

He hoped that he could eventually find her and the kid somewhere out of the way and safe so they could heal. A place where they would, hopefully, one day be able to put the tragedies of their lives behind them. Maybe then, once they were safe and healing, he could finally begin to forgive himself.

“Alaina?” His vocoder struggled to keep his digitized words soft as he whispered to her.

“Mmm?” she hummed back. Her cheek was still resting on her knees, looking at him, but her eyes were beginning to droop.

“Go to sleep,” he whispered, giving her hand one last light squeeze before letting her go.

Alaina smiled and let her eyes drift close.

So, for the second night in a row, Mando slept sitting up next to Alaina in that bed.

He’d take the floor again over sleeping like that for a third night. He was used to sleeping in uncomfortable positions, and sleeping upright was not uncommon for him, but that was usually done in the comfort of his command chair on the Crest.

Alaina stepped out from behind the partition where she’d redressed for the new day—back in the green shirt and gray tactical pants he’d gotten for her. She flashed him a quick smile as she finished tying her hair off in a braid.

“Do you think two pairs of socks will prevent me from getting blisters in these boots?” she asked hopefully.

He looked down at her boots and then back up at Alaina, “Planning on taking a hike?”

“No. Training. I’m in Cara’s group today,” she replied as if it were the obvious answer.

He felt his eyebrows raise high into his head. “Training? As in, you’re training with the villagers?” he asked, positive he had misheard her.

“Yeah,” Alaina confirmed with a frown. “That’s okay, isn’t it? They were dividing people up into groups last night. I’m in Cara’s group today working on hand-to-hand combat, and then your group next for weapon training,” she informed him, nodding toward the crate of blasters by the door. 

He didn’t answer immediately, having a difficult time imagining the petite waif of a girl training to fight—

“I didn’t think to ask you,” Alaina mumbled before her body stiffened. Her eyes flicked down to the floor, and she started wringing her hands together. “I didn’t think—I thought it would be okay,” she started rambling. “Cara told me she’d help me out.”

Mando rolled his eyes. He was sure the ex-drop trooper was excited to get a chance to work with Alaina without him. She hadn’t exactly made her little infatuation with the former ballerina a secret. 

“But I don’t have to—”

“Alaina,” he stopped her and sighed when her worried green eyes looked up at him. “It’s fine. I’m just surprised you were interested in learning some self-defense, is all.” Alaina stared at him for another minute like she was waiting for a but or for him to change her mind. “Really,” he confirmed with a nod. “I actually think it’s a good idea for you to learn a few things.”

She smiled at him.

“Although…” he began but tapered off when Alaina’s smile fell off her face again. “It looks like people are already making their way down there,” he commented, nodding out the window where they could watch the villagers start to make their way to the open fields to start their defense training. Alaina’s forehead scrunched in confusion at his statement. “Dune may have mentioned that the last person to show up was going to have to run ten laps around the village.”

Alaina’s eyes went wide, and she quickly sidestepped him to head out the door.

Mando smirked as he watched her run out the door, and her long, blonde braid struck the door as she turned the corner.

He chuckled to himself and grabbed the crate he left by the door. He couldn't help but be amused with himself as he followed after her.

Several hours later, the afternoon sun was high in the sky, and Mando’s amusement from the morning had completely vanished after seeing the villagers’ gun skills. His expectations had been low, but even that bar was higher than what their skills actually ended up being.

Abysmal was an understatement, he thought as he watched another shot go wide.

A flash of gold in the distance distracted him and he looked away from his group toward Dune’s down the hill from his.

Alaina was easy to spot in the crowd; her honey-blonde hair reflected the afternoon sun, making her a beacon. 

He watched as she repeated Cara’s moves step by step. She looked like a natural. He wasn’t sure why that surprised him. She was a dancer. She was treating her training as if it were merely choreography. He wondered if Dune noticed it too—if she could spot Alaina’s meticulous observations and the way she had memorized the exact way Dune ran through her motions. Memorizing the motions was helpful to learn the basics but not helpful when you needed to improvise in the heat of battle.

The sound of several rounds striking the metal pots that were strung up as targets brought his focus back to his own group. 

Omera was steady and focused as she let another round go, striking the next pot.

Well, at least the entire group wasn’t useless.

He called his group’s training a couple of hours later. A few had made progress, but for the most part, they just needed practice. The few that didn’t need practice needed to pray to whatever god they worshipped that they wouldn’t die within the first five minutes of their attack.

He trekked down the hill where Dune appeared to also be wrapping up her training. Several of her group were milling around, but they all appeared to be watching—

“Block!” Dune yelled out.

Curiosity got the best of him, and he sauntered over to look for Alaina and see how she fared on her first day.

“Careful, don’t get too close,” Dune commented.

Mando came to stand next to Dune, who was casually leaning back against a wooden fence while she watched her students spare.

“Where did you find this girl, Mando?” Dune asked him with a grin, unable to tear her gaze away from the fight.

His helmet turned to look at the center of the ring, and felt his jaw drop at the sight of Alaina fending off her sparing partner, who was on the attack. Both Alaina and her attacker had makeshift wooden staffs, and his eyebrows raised high into his forehead when he watched as Alaina twirled her staff as she spun out of the way to avoid a strike. The move was quick, and immediately put her on the attack now instead of the defense.

He leaned over to rest his arms against the top rail of the fence next to Dune. “She’s a ballerina,” he commented just as Alaina made another spin.

Dune snorted and finally turned to look at him, “You’re shitting me.”

He shook his head, but before he could say anything, he watched Alaina attempt to plant the end of her spin but ended up tripping over her boots. Mando watched helplessly as she fell flat on her back, giving her opponent the opportunity to bring his wooden staff down to gently tap her chest, signaling she’d lost this round.

“Alright,” Dune called, pushing off the fence. “That’s enough for today.”

Alaina didn’t move and continued to lay flat on her back, panting out of breath on the ground. Oh, she was going to be sore, he thought, shaking his head. After being with the Empire for five years, she’d lost virtually all of her muscle mass, and it was going to take time to rebuild that. She’d be lucky if she could stand in the morning. 

Mando hopped over the fence, walked to Alaina, who was still sprawled out on the ground, and offered her his hand.

“Of course, you had to see that,” she grumbled but still accepted his help anyway. “I would have had him if it wasn’t for these boots,” she grumbled. “They’re too big and heavy.”

He couldn’t help but smirk at the sore loser attitude. “Learn to use them as an advantage. They’re heavy—you’re lightweight,” he countered. “If you ever find yourself in the middle of a real fight, you’ll be thankful you’re wearing those instead of your dancing slippers. If you have to kick someone in the head—ribbon and satin won’t knock them unconscious, but thick rubber soles with enough force will.”

Alaina snarled and rubbed her backside. “First, stop calling them slippers; they’re called pointe shoes,” Alaina corrected him with a grumble. Then she arched an eyebrow at him and said, “Second, maybe I want to use the ribbon on my pointe shoes to strangle someone.”

A bark of laughter escaped him at the picture she just put in his head. He hadn’t been expecting that answer to come from the former dancer.

Alaina smirked but ducked her head to hide her smile.

“Come on," he laughed, bringing his hand to the small of her back. "Let's go save whoever is watching the kid,” he suggested, giving her a little push to head back to the center of the village.

Later that night, after they’d all eaten and taken turns washing the day off of them in the bathhouses, Mando took his turn trying to get the kid to go to sleep. He seemed extra restless that evening and fussed anytime Mando tried to place him in his crib.

“You should tell him a story,” Alaina suggested, coming around the partition dressed in his tunic as she tried to brush her hair, frowning when she snagged the comb in a tangled curl.

“A story?”

“Yeah, you know, a story,” Alaina confirmed, still focusing on her tangle as she went to sit on the bed. “Starts with once upon a time, has a plot, characters, exposition, and then a happy ending—you know—a story. Or do Mandalorians not believe in reading bedtime stories of people finding their happy ever after to their children?”

He cocked his head at the jibe. “I wouldn’t know,” he commented, trying and once again failing to get the kid to go in his crib.

Her green eyes looked up at him from her hair, and he could see the teasing glint in them shining back at him. “Just talk to him, Mando,” Alaina said, the snark completely dropping from her tone. “You haven’t been around much the last couple of days. He’s missed you.”

Mando held the kid in his arms in front of his helmet and studied the stubborn little womp rat. “What do I talk about?”

“Anything,” Alaina shrugged. “It’s more just so he can hear your voice. It doesn’t matter what you talk about.”

He continued to study the drooling child held out in his arms. The kid waved his hands and cooed excitedly. Evidently, sleep was the last thought on the womp rat’s mind.

“Talk about something you know,” Alaina suggested. “My mom said when I was a baby, my dad used to read me blaster manuals when they couldn’t get me to go to sleep.”

Mando couldn’t help the slow turn of his helmet to look at the woman at her admission.

“What?” she asked with a frown.

“And you became a ballerina. Maybe I’ll pick a different topic.”

Alaina rolled her eyes, and he smirked when he heard her mumble the word, “Ass,” under her breath. “You know, I was just trying to be nice and give you a suggestion.”

“Since I left all my manuals back on the ship,” Mando started, turning to look back at the kid, “how about I walk you through how to take apart my rifle?”

Grogu blinked at him, and he took that as the go-ahead to launch into his descriptions. Mando carried the kid around the room, holding him to his chest while he spoke about the correct way to clean a rifle, being as detailed as he could possibly be. By the time he was done with the most boring, monotone description of how to completely dismantle his Ambam phase-pulse blaster, the kid had been snoring for the last five minutes.

Mando smiled down at the little womp rat as he gently placed him in his crib, careful not to wake him up. He looked over to Alaina to thank her for the suggestion but found that the blonde was already passed out on the bed.

He silently went to the table and turned the lantern off before making himself comfortable on the floor next to Alaina’s cot. 

“You don’t have to sleep on the floor, ya know,” Alaina’s sleepy voice startled him from above.

“I thought you were asleep.”

“Mmm, kinda,” she mumbled. “I can scoot over and make room. It’d be a tight fit—”

“It’s okay,” he stopped her.

Silence settled back over them and just when Mando thought Alaina had drifted back to sleep, her quiet voice spoke from the cot above him.

“I don’t understand why you are so stubborn,” she grumbled. “The floor can't be comfortable. I get that you haven’t shared a bed with someone before, but this is literally just sharing a bed with someone.” Mando’s face scrunched in confusion by her words. “Besides, I don’t bite.”

“But you do kick,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

“Alaina, It’s called being a gentleman,” he cut her off. “And for your information, I have shared a bed with someone before.”

There was a pause before her shocked response came, “You—You have?”

“Don’t sound so surprised,” he groused.

Alaina was silent above him, but he knew her questions weren’t over when he heard the cot shift above. He blinked, and half of Alaina’s face was staring at him from above.

“What?” he sighed.

Alaina’s eyes widened slightly, “So… does that mean…Do you leave your helmet on for... sex?”

Mando choked at her question and sat up on his elbows to stop so he wouldn’t wake up the kid. “That’s what you want to know?” he whispered incredulously.

“What?” Alaina defended, bringing more of her head over the edge of the cot to stare at him. “I think it’s a valid follow-up question!” she whispered loudly.

Mando laid back down and stared up at the ceiling, silently wishing that the raiders would come to attack the village now or that the floor would open up and swallow him whole—anything to get out of this embarrassing line of questioning.

Alaina smirked down at him. “Well?”

He heaved a long sigh. Clearly, the Maker wasn’t listening at the moment. Alaina’s green eyes blinked above him, and he let out another irritated sigh. “My helmet doesn’t come off,” he eventually confirmed. “It doesn’t need to to get the job done.”

Her face fell flat. “How romantic,” Alaina deadpanned.

“You asked,” he retorted.

Alaina continued to stare down at him, and he prepared himself for whatever she was working up the nerve to ask him.

“So…” she began but tapered off for a moment to chew on her lip. “So, does that mean you’ve never kissed anyone?”

“Alaina,” he sighed.

“Yes?”

“Go to sleep.”

She rolled her eyes but she did finally roll back on the cot next to him.

“Good night, Mandalorian,” she whispered in the dark.

He smirked and shook his head at her, “Good night, ballerina.”

There was a small giggle, but after that, the room was enveloped in a blanket of silence.

Mando continued to stare at the ceiling until his eyes eventually drooped closed.

What didn’t even seem like an hour later, Mando’s eyes flew open at the feeling of something jumping on his chest.

Green, wrinkly skin with large ears and eyes swam into his vision. Grogu had his face squished against his helmet. At the close distance, the kid was a shadow, illuminated by the early morning sun creeping in through the slats in the wood walls. The kid’s little three-finger-clawed hand came and banged excitedly in the center of his silver helm, and he let out a tired sigh.

“Morning, kid,” he grumbled.

Something else grumbled, and his helmet rolled to his right to find a distinctly Alaina-shaped figure wrapped in a blanket. She had evidently made her way to the floor at some point in the night and was now on her side facing him and about as close as she could be to him without actually touching him. Her blanket was completely wrapped around her, with only a sliver of her cheek and a curly lock of hair escaping from the blanket.

Grogu gurgled and smiled at him, eagerly slapping his helmet again.

“What am I gonna do with the two of you?” he asked, shaking his head. 

Grogu blinked at him, and Mando grabbed the kid, bringing him up off the floor with him, careful to step over Alaina’s sleeping form.

Sorgan was idyllic.

Except for the small fact that he had been helping train the villagers who lived here to defend themselves against raiders—it was idyllic.

Almost two weeks after they had arrived, Mando kept waiting for something nefarious to come out of the woodwork—the villagers sacrificed their children or elders or perhaps even used the shrimp farming as a front for a secret spice ring, but so far he hadn’t found anything incriminating—and he’d tried to.

He kept telling himself that was a good thing, but something still felt uneasy, and he couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Aside from him looking for something wrong with the farming community, Alaina and Grogu took it at face value.

They were smitten with the small village. 

Grogu had children to play with and would come back to the shack at the end of most days exhausted, which meant Mando hadn’t had to embarrass himself with any more weapon cleaning lectures.

Even Alaina, who had been cold and reserved since he had stolen her back from the Empire, had warmed up to the charms of the village and its occupants. She trained with them. She ate with them. She even had drinks with them and Dune to celebrate the first week of training. She was happy. Her green eyes had lost some of their steel. Her hair got some of its shine back. With regular meals and exercise, even in the short time they’d been here, he was surprised to see how quickly her body responded to the healthy routine. Her face lost some of the haunted look it had developed, and it was slowly starting to take on a happy, contented look. Her body became less gaunt and while it still had some sharp angles, those angles were slowly softening.

The facts stared at him head-on. The reason why he had reservations about the village… how happy his new companions seemed to be… was it possible they had stumbled across the perfect place for them on the first try?

Shots firing pulled him out of his internal discourse, and he put his attention back on the task at hand—training the villagers how to handle firearms.

Mando had not been very hopeful after the first couple of days of training, but they had slowly begun to improve.

Today, he had Alaina in his group.

He watched the blonde in question try to handle the rifle she’d gotten paired with this time, but he could tell from a distance that the weapon was too large for her smaller, inexperienced hand. He took a moment to observe her as she took aim and fired off a shot, missing her target completely.

Hand-to-hand was obviously where her talents lay, but he had held out hope that some of that would transfer over to firearms…

Another shot was fired, and another target missed.

She was getting frustrated. He could see it in the way her eyebrows drew together in concentration—how her teeth worried on her bottom lip—how every muscle in her body was tense.

Mando shook his head and walked behind the line of villagers doing target practice until he made it to Alaina at almost the end of the line. She was lying on the ground with the butt of the rifle digging into her shoulder. Her technique was decent, but the fact of the matter was it was just too large for her, throwing off her aim.

He nudged her boot with his, and when she turned her head around to stare at him, he said, “It’s too big for you.”

Her shoulders sagged in frustration, and her head lolled forward in defeat.

“Get up. I want to swap you out with something else,” he told her, giving her boot a kick again.

With a groan, Alaina got up from the ground, passing off the rifle she’d been using to him before brushing the dirt off the front of her dress.

“I know,” she grumbled as she followed him back to the crate of weapons he had stored away.

“You know what?” he asked her.

Mando made sure the rifle’s safety was engaged before propping it up against the crate while he began searching for a particular blaster he had in mind.

“I’m no marksman. I’m better with Cara’s stuff,” she pouted, crossing her arms across her chest.

Mando paused his search to raise his helmet and looked at the blonde. “When’s the last time you shot a blaster?” he asked her before resuming his search.

“What do you think I’ve been doing for the last two weeks?”

Ah, Mando smiled, finding the blaster tucked away at the bottom of the crate. He looked the old blaster over, inspecting it with a trained eye, and went through the motions of making sure it was ready for use.

He’d had this blaster since virtually the beginning. It was a hand-held blaster. The grip was small, and didn’t have much of a distance between that and the safety. The muzzle was slightly extended but still lightweight, so it didn’t affect the balance of the blaster. It was old, probably older than he was, but Mando still serviced it regularly as he did with all of his weapons, so he knew it was still in working order. It had been a gift from the Mandalorian who had rescued him from the ruins of his homeworld all those years ago. The man had given him one of his own blasters as a gift before he went to train in the fighting corps. As he had grown, so did his taste in weapons, and this blaster was simple and smaller than what he preferred now. 

Which made it perfect for ten year olds and ballerinas alike learning how to shoot for the first time.

“You do better with Dune because you were a dancer,” he told her as he directed her back toward her spot in line. “It’s all choreography,” he finished as they reached her position.

Mando presented her with the new blaster and showed her how to hold the weapon. He showed her how to grip it, where the safety was, and how to use her thumb to click the safety on and off. Alaina took the small blaster from him and mimicked his moves. He nodded. She fumbled a bit with the safety, but she could still reach it with the thumb on her shooting hand.

Next, he pointed ahead to the targets in the distance. Mando used his boots to gently kick at hers to get them into place. He placed his hands on her wait to position her upper body before moving them to her shoulders. 

“Shooting is different,” he continued as his hands positioned her shoulders where he wanted them. “You have to have patience.”

Alaina scoffed, and her head whipped to glare at him. “You have to have patience in dancing, too!” she argued. Mando placed his hand on the top of her head to force her to turn to look back at the target. “Well, you do,” she grumbled.

Mando came to stand behind her and wrapped his arms around her small frame, grabbing her hands in his to stretch her arms out in front of her and position them. He could feel her tense under him, and he gave her hands a reassuring squeeze as he moved the blaster to take aim at the target.

“Relax,” he instructed, bringing his helmet down to be level with her head to help her line the shot up. It took a few long, drawn-out seconds, but eventually, he felt Alaina relax, and her body sank back against his chest. “Good. Now, both eyes open; you want to see everything,” he continued as he made a couple of slight changes to her hands and arms before slowly letting his grip go.

He hovered his hands, but Alaina was able to keep that same position, so he slowly began to unwind from her while he backed away.

“Take a breath." Her chest expanded. "Line up your shot." She corrected the blaster slightly. "Fire." Her shot just nicked the edge of one of the steel pots hanging in the distance.

“I hit it!” she exclaimed, pointing at the pot swaying on the rope it was hanging from, and turned back to look at him. “Did you see that?!”

Mando chuckled at her excitement and gave her a congratulatory pat on her back.

“Keep practicing,” he instructed, pointing back to the targets.

Alaina’s green eyes sparkled in the sun as she beamed back at him, her smile filled with triumph. He gave her a little nod and pointed back at the targets in front of her. Still smiling, she turned back to take aim again.

Mando continued to walk down the line, occasionally stopping to correct someone's posture or grip.

He told himself the reason why he kept smiling for the rest of the afternoon was because, by the end of today’s lesson, everyone in the group was consistently hitting their targets.

It had nothing to do with the fact that Alaina's excitement over finally hitting her target was contagious.

After the two groups called it quits for the evening, the villagers broke up to go about their usual chores and dinner.

He and Alaina had gotten into a good routine in the evenings. She would bring him a tray of food from the hall before taking Grogu back with her so they could both eat dinner. He could usually count on her giving him an hour or two to be on his own. Which allowed him the privacy to remove his helmet to eat, clean up, and change clothes before his roomates returned for the evening. Then, he and Alaina alternated nights, putting the kid to bed. Although he was slightly suspicious that Alaina did something to wind the kid up on his nights to get him to settle down, regardless, it was a routine that the three of them fell into easily.

Unfortunately, his smile from earlier didn’t last the rest of the day. It was that evening that the Mandalorian received confirmation that the village had taken just as much to the Mandalorian and his companions as they had to them.

He frowned when Alaina walked back up to the shack without Grogu. He tilted his head curiously at her, silently asking about the missing womp rat while he sat in one of the chairs on their porch.

“He’s with Winta,” she explained with a shrug, coming to sit in the chair next to him. “The elders were telling stories around the bonfire, and I didn’t have it in me to take him from his friends just yet.”

The two sat in comfortable silence for a moment, watching as the last bit of sun began to sink under the horizon.

“You didn’t want to stay with your friends?” he asked curiously when he noticed that there were several adults huddled around the bonfire, and it wasn’t just the children.

Alaina shook her head. “And listen to ghost stories?” She gave him a skeptical look. “No, thank you,” she finished, shaking her head and looking back into the distance. “I have enough of my own,” she murmured.

Mando didn’t take his helmet off her after her statement. 

They hadn’t spoken anymore about her time in the Empire since she woke up. She hadn’t offered, and he hadn’t pushed. Even when she would jolt awake in the middle of the night, and he knew she had been woken by another nightmare. After two weeks, he learned that Alaina seemed to recover quicker if he faked sleep than she did if he questioned her about her dreams. Although Mando found it difficult to fake sleep when Alaina would crawl off the cot to lay next to him on the floor. And it was even more difficult to pretend when she would rest her head on his shoulder before going back to sleep. 

It was his fault she had those nightmares in the first place, so he felt that he should help her shoulder some of that burden. And if that meant his shoulders literally needed to support her, then that’s what they would do.

“You know it’s my night to get the womp rat to go to bed,” he commented flatly.

Alaina scrunched her face in confusion before she turned back to look at him. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“I had suspicions you were doing something to the kid to wire him up on my nights.” Alaina snorted, and he smirked when Alaina’s lips quirked up at his admission. “And now I have proof," he accused with a point at the grin on her face. "Letting the kid listen to ghost stories before bed?” he scoffed, shaking his helmet at her.

“It’s not intentional!” Alaina laughed.

He continued to shake his head, “The kid’s never gonna go to sleep tonight.”

Alaina’s mouth was open to say something else, but her eyes slid to something off to the side. “Omera?”

Mando turned to find the woman who had befriended them, walking up to their small shack with an easy smile on her face.

“Is Grogu okay?” Alaina asked, and Omera nodded, immediately easing any worry from both of them.

“I actually wanted to come check in on you. Make sure the three of you were doing okay,” Omera told them as she came to stand next to him on the porch.

Mando turned to share a look with Alaina before looking back to Omera and nodded. “It is very nice here,” he told her honestly.

Omera smiled, “Yes, I’m glad you think so.”

“Yes,” Alaina agreed. “Everyone has been so kind and welcoming…” She faded off but quickly schooled her features to be happy when Mando looked back at her. “You and your people have been great. Really. Besides, it’s clear that he’s happy here,” she finished, pointing to the bonfire in the distance where Grogu was sitting with the other children.

“What about you?” Omera asked, looking at Alaina first and then at him. “What about the both of you?”

He shared another look with Alaina, who also seemed confused by the question.

“Us?” Mando asked when he looked back at Omera.

“Are you happy here?” she asked with a smile, looking between the two of them. “We—We want you to stay. The community is grateful for your help.”

He blinked at the declaration and looked back at Alaina, who had a blank expression on her face.

“Think about it,” Omera continued with a smile. “It’s evident that you have all been through a lot. The village doesn’t care what you’ve done; they are just grateful for your help.” Omera turned her focus on him before continuing her argument for them to settle down. “You can pack all this away in case there's ever trouble. You, Alaina, and your boy could have a good life. He could be a child for a while. Wouldn't that be nice?”

Mando looked at Alaina again but her face remained a blank, emotionless mask.

“It would,” he eventually agreed, turning to look back at Omera. “Your offer is kind, but I don’t belong here,” he said, hoping that he was doing a decent job of masking his own emotions. He took a deep breath and returned his helmet to Alaina, “But maybe they do,” he agreed quietly.

Omera smiled understandingly and looked hopeful at Alaina. “You’ll consider it then?” she asked the former ballerina sitting next to him.

“Oh, um, yes,” Alaina replied, obviously still surprised by the offer. 

Alaina’s answer seemed to appease Omera and Mando watched as the villager turned to walk away from the shack on the outskirts back toward the bonfire in the middle of the village.

Silence stretched between the two of them, and Mando kept his helmet directed forward. “What do you think?” he asked Alaina quietly.

“I don’t know,” she answered, the quiet tone of her voice matching his own.

The last couple of weeks had added up to this moment. Mando had no right to feel so despondent by the offer. He’d even slowly come around to the idea himself. Once the raiders were taken care of, there would be no reason why the two of them shouldn’t stay.

“I think you should stay,” he told her, sounding more confident than he felt.

Alaina’s eyes widened, and he watched as they flickered across his helmet. Her face eventually closed off so he couldn’t read her, and rose from her chair without a word.

“Alaina?”

“I’ll think about it,” she agreed stiffly as she shuffled past him to get the the door of their shack.

“What’s there to think about?” he questioned, confused by her sudden sour attitude.

“I don’t know! Nothing, I guess,” she bit out angrily. Mando heard the telltale sound of the crack in her words, and he knew she was fighting back tears.

Mando stood up from his chair to follow her, “Alaina—”

“I’m tired, Mando,” Alaina cut him off. She paused in the entryway to the shack but refused to look back at him. “I said I would think about it, so I’m going to think about it, but right now, I just want to go to bed. You should probably get Grogu and make sure you don’t need to walk around with him for a bit before you try and put him to bed,” she recommended before walking the rest of the way inside, leaving him alone on the small porch.

Mando stared after her, feeling confused and a few other emotions that he couldn’t quite place. His heart clenched, and that damned cord in his chest tugged as if it were pulling him to follow after her. 

Unable to shake the feeling he’d done something wrong by suggesting that she and the kid stay here, Mando took the steps off the rickety wooden porch and headed toward the bonfire to collect Grogu.

The days in the wake of Omera’s offer were tense. 

Alaina did her best to avoid him, often waking up before him, getting an early start to the day, and not returning until the evening, completely exhausted and passing out without another word. She threw herself into her training, and he figured that if that helped her work through whatever was making her angry, then he wouldn’t stop her.

He would catch her running laps with Dune around the village in the morning on his way to take the kid to the hall for breakfast. She tired easily in the beginning and still obviously struggled to run in her heavy boots, but she kept trying. Every morning, he watched as her strength slowly started to build up. With each new morning, she was able to run a little faster and go a little farther than the day before.

On the days her group worked with Dune on hand-to-hand combat, she would often stay behind after lessons were over to work one-on-one with the former drop trooper. 

The first time that he caught one of their private lessons on his way down the hill, he watched as Dune didn’t hold back and tripped her, making her flip and land on her back onto the ground. He ran to intervene. Only, when he made it to their makeshift sparing ring, Alaina got herself back up and shot him a challenging glare, before giving Dune the go-ahead to continue.

When he finally realized that this was going to be Alaina’s new routine a few days later, he made it a point to stop on his way down the hill to watch for a few minutes.

Dune was working with Alaina on how to get out of certain positions if she ever found herself being restrained by an attacker. After a few minutes of struggling in the other woman’s stronger hold, Alaina tapped out.

“You’ll get there,” Dune encouraged her. “You just have to learn to use your smaller frame to your advantage. What do you think, Mando?” Mando nodded in agreement. “Alaina here asked for a crash course,” the former soldier unnecessarily explained. “Got any suggestions on future lessons?”

Mando nodded and reached behind his back to pull Alaina’s dagger from its hiding spot. She hadn’t asked for it back since he’d attempted to help teach her how to throw knives in the woods weeks ago. It felt wrong to keep something of such sentimental value from her. Besides, if Alaina was serious about learning to defend herself, then it felt right for her to have the blade back to incorporate into her training.

Alaina blinked at the sight of her mother’s dagger. Mando held it by the tip of the blade and offered it for her to take. She approached him slowly, and even though she wasn’t looking at him, he could see the stormy torment behind her green eyes as she walked. She took the blade by the hilt and only took a moment to inspect it before looking up at him with an unreadable expression on her face.

“I think she should practice her knife throwing skills,” he recommended and then walked away from the sparing ring without a look back.

Their limited interactions continued like this for days.

Mando couldn’t even call her angry or cold. She was just… focused. Aloof even.

When her group had their turn to practice their firearm skills with him, Alaina still joined them. She would take the same blaster he had worked with her to use and practice with the same determination as the other villagers. He put them through drills—having them run while shooting targets, having them try and shoot moving targets, having them shoot in every position possible. She took constructive criticism when he offered it but made no other attempt to interact with him.

Alaina put in the work, but there was a wall there that hadn’t been there before, and if it had been just him she was like that with, it would have been one thing, but she had even put the kid at arm’s length.

After weeks of their routines and bonding with the kid, Grogu had become upset when Alaina appeared to just be going through the motions with him. To make matters worse, Grogu seemed to pick up on his caretakers' tense emotions and appeared just as frustrated by Alaina’s lack of interaction with him as Mando was.

Mando was over it.

At the end of their third week in the quaint shrimping village, there was a meeting at the hall that meeting. The villagers had convened, and after a brief debate, it was decided that they were as ready as they were going to be. They would take two days to rest and finish the last-minute touches to their barricades and fortify the Elder’s hut to give them and the children and those unable to fight a safe place to hide. Then, in two nights from tonight, on the night of the full moon, they would make their attack.

Mando and Dune shared a nod at their decision.

Dune was rambling off a list of suggestions for the necessary fortifications when a flash of gold grabbed his attention. He watched Alaina stalk away from the hall in the direction of their shed, and he decided it was time to confront the angry woman about her attitude.

Dune just gave him a knowing, annoying smirk when she caught him looking after Alaina’s retreating form. Mando ignored her and went to Omera, asking if she could take the kid for the night before going after Alaina.

He trekked through the village to their shack on the village outskirts, taking his time to come up with his words as the moon slowly made its way up into the night sky. When he finally reached their place, he took a deep breath before entering the small lodging—which was surprisingly empty.

“Alaina?” he called, not wanting to invade her privacy if she was changing behind the partition, but received no response.

He heard something thud loudly against the outside of the wall opposite him. Mando stayed still for a moment listening for the sound to repeat, and when he couldn’t hear anything else, he walked back out of the shack and walked around it to inspect the noise further.

When he made it around to the back of the shed, he discovered Alaina standing in position with a look of determination on her face as she stared down the back of the house. After another second, Alaina lobbed her mother’s dagger at the shed, and Mando’s helmet tracked the small weapon as it spun through the air until the dagger’s serpentine hilt bounced off the wall and fell to the ground at his feet.

Mando picked up the dagger and carried it back to where Alaina was staring him down. Her green eyes glared at him the entire time. 

When Mando offered her the blade back, and she refused to take it, he shrugged his shoulders and casually flicked his wrist, flipping the dagger straight up into the air. He easily caught it by the blade and spun to launch it at the shack, where it embedded into the wood with such force it vibrated for a few seconds.

He couldn’t help but give Alaina a smug look, and his smile only grew when her glare intensified.

With a scoff, Alaina took off to pull the dagger out of the wood.

“You seem upset,” he commented, earning him another infuriated glare when Alaina returned to her previous position. “Alright,” Mando started, not bothering to hide the frustration in his voice, and Alaina blinked in surprise at the tone change. “I’m done with the petulant teenager act—”

“I’m not a child,” Alaina cut in with a growl.

“Yeah? Then drop the attitude and talk to me,” he challenged her. “This all started after Omera offered for you and the kid to stay.”

“And?” Alaina asked.

At first, he was confused by her question until he realized that she was leading him to continue.

“And I suggested you take her up on it,” he finished, confused why that had anything to do with her anger.

“Is that all it was? A suggestion?” Alaina asked, looking up at his helmet.

He frowned, “I don’t understand what you're so upset about. It’s a good offer!”

“What if it’s an offer I don’t want to take?” she seethed quietly, staring up at him with those large, pleading eyes of hers.

“Why wouldn’t you want to?”

Alaina rolled her eyes, and her head fell back in frustration. “What if I want more than this, Mando? What if I want a city? A place with more things to do and see and experience?”

He sighed, “Alaina, you’re in hiding from the Empire,” he reminded her. “A bigger city poses even bigger problems.”

“So I’m just supposed to hide away from the rest of my life? I’m only twenty-seven!”

“Alaina—”

“No!" Alaina yelled and stomped her foot in the grass. He wanted to point out to her that she was acting more like the petulant teenager she insisted she wasn't, but for his own safety, he decided against it.

"Mando, I never thought I’d ever get a chance to leave the Empire, and now that I have... I don’t want to be chained to someplace with nothing to do! I want to experience what’s out there!” she argued, her green eyes pleading with him to understand. “At least on a bigger planet or city, I wouldn’t look so out of place! I could blend in! I would have more things to do—”

“You’d be in hiding in a bigger city, too,” he countered. “At least here, you have the support and protection of the other villagers. There’s safety in numbers. Alaina, you have to be smart about this.” She rolled her eyes again, and he let out a frustrated sigh. “It just seems overwhelming right now, but it will get better. You’ll see. At some point, the Empire will move its attention to its next fixation. When that happens, and you still want to leave, we can look at other options.”

“Oh, so you’ll still be around then?” she asked and placed her hands on her hips as she stared him down. “In twenty or thirty years, when they finally find another avenue to pursue, you’re just going to still be here to take us wherever we want?” A hollow laugh left her mouth when he didn’t answer, and she shook her head, “So I ask again, Mando—was it just a suggestion to dump us here, or is that your final decision?”

“I’m not dumping you,” he sighed again. “Alaina—”

“You said I had a choice,” she cut him off. “You said I had a choice, and instead, you’re the one making the choices for me. What, a few weeks of traveling with a girl and a baby cramping your style too much? Just ready to dump us—”

“I’m not dumping you,” he repeated, growing frustrated by the argument. “You’ve seemed happy here. You both have. You deserve to be happy, Alaina.”

“Of course, I’ve been happy! This is the first place we stopped at! You could have taken me to a planet that was made of garbage, and I would have been happy!" He rolled his eyes, becoming exasperated by Alaina's half-thought-out ideas of what her life would look like outside of the Empire. "I’ve had a chance to get used to the idea that I have options! Just because I’ve seemed happy doesn’t mean I want to be stuck here!” 

“Alaina, for once, stop thinking about just yourself!” Mando snapped back at her. Maker, no one could make him angrier than Alaina could. “This isn’t just about you! Grogu deserves the chance to get to be a kid.”

“Grogu understands more than you give him credit for. Were you even going to try and explain it to him?” she asked before making another attempt at throwing the dagger at the shack. Alaina’s toss was better this time, but still, there was no luck landing her throw. “You told me I had a choice and you didn’t even try and talk to me about it to see if it’s what I—What either of us wanted!”

“Talk to you about it?” he huffed and shook his head. Mando crossed the distance to retrieve the dagger this time. “Because you’ve made it so easy to talk to you about it when you’ve been avoiding me and Grogu since it was brought up,” he accused. “You wanna talk about it, then let's talk,” he said, handing her her dagger back.

Alaina worried her bottom lip between her teeth, a nervous habit he’d noticed she did whenever she became overly anxious about anything. 

He tilted his helmet at her when she remained silent. “What’s there to talk about?” he prodded her, becoming even more frustrated when Alaina just blinked at him. He studied her green eyes and the way the emerald pools reflected the silver moon back at him. 

“Alaina," he started again, dropping his voice to a softer tone. "I know that you’re scared. It’s not easy to start somewhere new, but this is the right thing for you and the kid. You’re both happy here. That’s obvious. Besides, I thought you’d be happy that you’d get rid of me so soon,” he tried to joke, but the joke fell flat. Alaina just continued to frown at him while her fingers idly fidgeted with the dagger. “You’re just scared. You’ll see this is the right call later on.”

Her frown deepened at his words, and before he could say anything else, Alaina tossed the blade with a grunt. Mando watched it as its tip struck true when she finally hit her target.

He had to blink for a second as he watched the dagger sway but still held on without falling out of the wooden plank it was embedded in. He smiled and turned his helmet back to her to congratulate Alaina on her successful toss, but his smile faltered when he locked onto her bright emerald eyes, which were still sparking in anger.

“You said I had a choice,” she said, speaking lowly. “I looked at you and asked if I had a choice, and you looked me in my eyes and gave me your word and told me from here on out, I would have a choice.” She reminded him of his words when he had come to rescue her from the compound on Nevarro. 

He wanted to argue with her and remind her that they had done all of this just to make sure that she and the kid would be safe somewhere, but his arguments were cut short when Alaina spoke again.

“I guess it really wasn’t my choice all along,” she murmured sadly and turned to walk away from him.

Mando stood there, simmering in his own complex, frustrated feelings, as he watched her walk past her mother’s dagger, which was still embedded in a wooden plank, and turn the corner to head back inside.

Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Next chapter in series - Chapter 8: Invisible String

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Din Grogu living life🩶