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kedsandtubesocks · 3 months ago

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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: 👀

#thank you for this meal bb 🙏#Kate’s tag 🪁✨#K’s tag 🪁✨#fic rec ✏️#Din 🩶#din djarin x reader

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kedsandtubesocks · 1 year ago

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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.

#omg first fic of the series AHHH and if you’re reading this know I’m seating you front row to this rodeo thank you forever #let’s rodeo fic series #cowboy din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x f!reader #agent whiskey x reader #Din Djarin x Reader x Jack Daniels #din djarin x you #Jack 🤎#Din 🩶#cowboys like us tag

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stars-n-spice · 4 months ago

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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

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thearoacefromspace · 1 year ago

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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)

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dindjarindiaries · 1 year ago

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

#guys. i just love the silly beskar man so much #😭🩶#din djarin

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the-mandawhor1an · 5 months ago

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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? 😭😭😭

#Wolke cosplayt

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duralp-99 · 6 months ago

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🩶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!

#Narin #Türkiye #çocuklarakıymayın

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jreads · 2 years ago

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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)

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kedsandtubesocks · 2 months ago

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Din I feel never truly had a life long friend, a best friend, someone to deeply connect with

So not only having a companionship with you as lovers, but to find someone who he realizes is his deepest connection to a friend, that when someone asks if he has a close friend and thinks only of you - he’s yours forever

#I’m thinking of the scene from br*dgerton where the duke tells the queen who lucky he is to love his best friend and that for me is Din #sorry I’m deep in my din djarin feels tonight #I think you become his home too but that’s another discussion for another day #din 🩶#Erika shut up tag

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saradika · 15 days ago

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Hi friend!! I don’t have a special someone to celebrate with this year but it’s a milestone wedding anniversary for my parents so I’m making them a fancy homemade dinner tonight. Do you have any fun Valentine’s Day plans?

💌 and my favorite character is of course our tin can man Din 🩶

hi lucy! that is so sweet and so awesome, I bet they were so happy to spend time with you & celebrate like that! ours was lowkey, brunch and a couple movies but I did sneak in some chocolate cupcakes 💖 and omg yess, I am going with knight!din!

You pass in the corridors. A gloved hand reaching out, just brushing your trailing skirts. Stolen seconds in the stairwell, sentiments murmured in the moments your paths cross.

No more than a breath.

But there’s flowers on your bed, your heart pounding as you touch the soft petals.

You don’t have to wonder who they are from. It’s there - everything he can’t say out loud.

[valentines moodboards 💌 - closed]

#valentines day moodboard #whataenginerd

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xfreischutz · 2 months ago

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This is Nour….PS 🍉🍉🍉

I was living a normal life like any other young person. I had big dreams and a beautiful home that would embrace my family and memories. I dreamed of studying, working, and creating a better future for me and my family. But in one moment, everything changed, Today, I find myself in a world without a future, My home that was once full of love has become a pile of rubble, My dreams were shattered in front of the world, and the war left me with nothing but pain, No clear future, not even a place where I feel safe with my family , But despite all this, I hold on to a small hope. A hope that I derive from your support and assistance, Your donation does not only mean providing food or financial assistance, but it is a message of life for my family, It is a hope for my mother to find a shelter that protects her, It is a hope for me to regain my dignity and rebuild my future . 🌹🌹🌹

** Your donation, even a small one, can make a huge difference. And if you can't donate, your sharing of this story is invaluable support. 🩶🌹🫶🏻

this campaign is at 780/150 000 euros as of december 25 2024

verification: #150 on the gazavetters spreadsheet

#verified palestinian campaigns #palestine #signal boost

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itsjuststardust · 9 months ago

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Heaven In Hiding - Chapter 1: The Bounty

Story Synopsis: Five years before the Mandalorian even met the Child, Mando took what he thought was going to be the easiest bounty with the highest payout of his career thus far. Capturing a runaway dancer—a ballerina versus a Mandalorian—was laughable.

Until it wasn’t.

The Mandalorian is a bounty hunter. His job is to collect a quarry and then return it for a profit. It doesn’t matter what happens to said quarry once he has returned it and collected the credits. So, then, why can he not forget about a sad pair of emerald green eyes after he turned her in? And when their paths cross again five years later, and he sees the condition his former quarry is in, how can he justify returning the Child to them? He is a bounty hunter. It doesn’t matter what happens to them… right?

Word Count: 5,814

Author's Note/Chapter Warnings: Long time Tumblr lurker. First time Tumblr poster. This is a multi-chapter fic that is also posted on AO3. Din Djarin/OFC. Slooooowwwwwwww buuuuurrrrrrnnnnnn. Rated Mature for Mature themes (PTSD, slight sexual content, descriptions of torture), but will eventually become explicit (Officially 🌶️explicit🌶️ Chapter 8 and beyond)... So - 18+ only. Minors DNI. Welcome interaction with others and constructive criticism. Bear with me while I figure out this whole Tumblr thing 🩶

Chapter 1: The Bounty

“Alaina! What have you done?”

Alaina frowned as she pried the pointe shoes off her aching feet. Only the third time she’d worn this pair, she shook her head as she examined the flimsy pair of shoes. They were already fraying and splitting. It looked like she’d need to start breaking in a new pair. She dropped the shoes to the floor and brought her hands to the right foot, which she had propped on her knee, and rubbed at her sore foot. It was her third performance in a row, and she found herself greatly looking forward to a few days off to rest and soak her feet.

“What are you talking about?” she asked the young dancer who barged into her dressing room at the end of her performance.

“There’s a Mandalorian here," she said with a pleading look. "A Mandalorian is here looking for you,” the girl finished, looking nervously behind her as if she expected this person to appear magically behind her.

“What’s a Mandalorian?” she asked, wiggling her toes before she slipped back into comfortable slip-on shoes.

The younger ballerina stared at her as if she’d committed an unforgivable sin.

“Use your words,” Alaina prodded as she rose from her seat to stretch. “What is a Mandalorian, and why do you look so terrified?”

Thunder could be heard as it rumbled loudly outside, and Alaina smiled. She had already changed out of her costume and was wearing her typical outfit of tights and a baggy green sweater, but she had forgotten a jacket. Hopefully, she wouldn’t get too wet on the walk home.

“Alaina, there is a bounty hunter here for you,” her younger protege explained.

She frowned. A bounty hunter? What would a bounty hunter want with a ballerina…

Her eyes fluttered closed when she connected the dots inside her mind. Surely, that insufferable man wouldn’t be so bold as to send a bounty hunter after her.

“You’ll come with me one way or another.”

Her former friend’s words from their last meeting rang clear in her mind. Months had passed since their argument, and she had put it all behind her. Unfortunately, it appeared as if he had not been able to put it behind him.

“I need to leave,” Alaina whispered, gathering whatever belongings she could to hastily throw them into a bag. There wasn’t much here: her pointe shoes, a small purse of credits, a dagger she carried on her for protection, and a protein bar. She would just have to make do with what she had. She couldn’t risk going to her home, at least right now.

She slung her black canvas bag of belongings over her shoulder as the young dancer she’d been mentoring ducked into the hall and returned with a dark green velvet cloak that was from her dance troupe’s wardrobe. It would have to do for now.

“What did you do?” her protege asked her nervously as she helped her put on the overly large green cloak. She pulled the hood up to cover her blonde hair, which was still pinned back into a tight bun from her earlier performance.

“Would you believe me if I told you an evil scientist wants to perform experiments on me?”

The younger girl looked at her skeptically, and Alaina shrugged her shoulders. Honestly, she even had a hard time believing that herself, but here she was, getting ready to run for the second time in a year - all because of what her mind could do.

She sidestepped the shocked girl and darted into the hall. Alaina looked in both directions, and her eyes locked on an intimidating-looking silver helmet, staring her down from the end of the hall to the right. Other dancers and crew members seemed just as shocked to see the armored man. People seemed to part, allowing her a clear view down the hall.

So, that’s a Mandalorian, she thought as she took in the gleaming silver helmet and dull brown armor that adorned the very large man.

She schooled her features and squared her shoulders, preparing for the race of her life. If she could make it through the forest, she could make it to the river, which bordered a mountain with a chain of caves that would be perfect to hide in. Hopefully, she’d find a good enough hiding spot to wait out the man until he gave up. In the worst-case scenario, she could follow the river to the ship docks and try to score herself a spot with a cargo vessel or something and go with them to their next destination. Starting over on a new planet was hard, but she’d done it once when she came here. She could do it again.

Mind decided, Alaina turned to her left and sprinted out of the backstage door, not giving another look behind her.

The weather had turned atrocious during her performance, and her shoes slipped in the mud as she ran from the auditorium. Rain poured from the sky, and lightning cracked overhead, followed by loud, rumbling thunder. When Alaina had overheard the predictions of a storm this evening, she found herself looking forward to enjoying the springtime storm from her home with a cup of warm tea, watching the weather roll through from her bedroom window.

Her evening plans had not included running for her life from a bounty hunter in the middle of a storm.

But she had no other choice. She needed to run. If this Mandalorian caught her and turned her in…

Warm tears tracked down her face, mingling with the cold rain that pelted her despite the cloak’s hood. She couldn’t allow herself to be captured. That was that. If she ended up in his hands, Alaina shuddered at the thought. She’d never see her life again.

She’d never dance again.

She’d never be able to enjoy a springtime storm again.

There was no telling the things she’d never get to experience if her deranged former friend got his hands on her.

So she ran.

The tree line of the dense forest came into view, and Alaina tried to push herself faster. Adrenaline coursed through her, allowing her to ignore the pain in her feet or the way her lungs burned with every inhale. She just needed to make it to the forest, and then she could work on hiding her tracks by weaving through the trees.

She broke through the tree line, and the forest’s canopy slightly shielded the downpour of rain, which meant the forest floor was not as muddy, allowing her slightly better traction.

She risked a look behind her, and her heart sank when she saw the foreboding outline of the Mandalorian standing at the treeline. Lightning cracked, illuminating the landscape around the broad-shouldered man and making him appear to be made of shadow and darkness.

“Please,” she begged the bounty hunter. “Please don’t do this.”

The only response she received was the rumbling of thunder as the bounty hunter took a single step toward her.

Alaina’s chest constricted, and she turned to run further into the forest. She did her best to make her tracks as erratic as possible as she wove through the dense trees. A root snagged her foot, and she stumbled but caught herself just before she fell to the ground. All those years of dancing suddenly seemed to come in handy for an entirely different reason.

The sound of water could be heard in the distance. Alaina smiled. That was not just the sound of rain. That was the sound of the river roaring. Which meant that the cave system that followed the river would be nearby.

Just a little further.

There would be a stretch of nothing when the forest would end, as the terrain changed from dirt to stone, as the scenery transitioned from forest to mountain and its caves that lined the river. That expanse would leave her exposed. Alaina slightly slowed her pace to conserve some of her energy. She would need to sprint to make it there once she no longer had the dense forest to use to her advantage.

She looked behind her just as lightning streaked across the sky, illuminating the forest behind her. She slowed when she saw nothing there behind her. Good. Hopefully, she lost the man. Or, at least, she had given herself enough leeway to sprint across the vacant stretch of land between the forest and the rocky, cavernous mountain by the river.

She stopped at the forest’s edge, hugging a particularly large, red tree trunk. The river roared to her left, and Alaina watched the rapids crash into the grey stone banks. She gulped at the powerful sight. The river was normally full on a good day, but with the rain from the storm, it was almost overflowing the banks. If the river rose any higher, it could possibly flood the caves she was counting on hiding in. Or worse, one wrong step or slip, and she could fall into the rushing waters. Although, she’d rather meet the Maker in the river than she would at the hands of…

A branch snapped behind her, and she spun, expecting to find the armored man stalking behind her out of the darkened forest, but no one was there. She let out a shaky breath. She couldn’t waste any more time. It was time to run again.

Alaina turned to push off the tree to begin her mad sprint to the caves in the distance, briefly closing her eyes to say a prayer to anyone who was listening to give her the speed to make it to her destination. Only when she pushed off the tree did she come to an abrupt stop when she ran into something.

Lightning cracked across the sky, and Alaina’s heart caught in her chest when she realized it wasn’t something she ran into but rather someone.

The Mandalorian.

The man’s larger, gloved hands reached out and latched onto her shoulders, trapping her in his powerful grip.

“Please, sir, I know you don’t know me, but you can’t send me to him,” she begged, tears welling in her eyes as she stared up into the helmet in sheer terror.

The helmet stayed unmoving, and Alaina felt the slightest spark of hope. Maybe she’d be able to talk herself out of this. Surely, the man wouldn’t turn her in if he knew what would happen to her.

“My—my name is Alaina,” she stuttered. “I’m a dancer. I just want to be a dancer. I’ve never stolen from anyone or hurt anyone,” she tried to plead her case. “If you turn me in, he’s just going to experiment on me. He’s obsessed with me and what I’m capable of.”

“Sorry, kid,” he said. The digitized voice was flat and uncaring as he spoke.

Alaina watched in slow motion as one of his hands dropped from her shoulder to grab a pair of shackles from his waist. With all the strength she could muster, she dropped and twisted her body in an attempt to escape his grasp. And then—

She was free.

Alaina blinked in shock when she realized she was just out of arm’s length of the Mandalorian. The helmet gave nothing away, but judging how the bounty hunter looked from his empty hand to her, she assumed he was just as shocked to see that Alaina had managed to escape him.

With another blink, Alaina remembered where she was.

And then she remembered who she was.

Alaina knew that people usually looked over her. She had a dancer’s typical slender build, but people usually assumed that she was weak and underestimated the lithe muscles she’d built over the years from hours and hours of daily training she’d done. She was the awkward height of being shorter than most women and missed out on parts because she didn’t fit what some directors pictured for their leading dancer. She knew she was pretty but not beautiful. Her looks were plain, and men’s gazes never stayed on her pale face for long. Alaina could go on for days. Her green eyes were too large for her face. She found herself wishing her blonde hair would be brighter and would just make a decision to be either curly or straight and not whatever unmanageable wavy thing her locks dried to. People looked at her, and they underestimated her.

The Mandalorian underestimated her, and she escaped from his grasp.

She had a gift - a gift that not many knew of. Her mother had the gift and did her best to teach Alaina how to manage it. Her former best friend turned evil scientist, knew of her gift. It had torn their relationship apart when he discovered the things Alaina could do. Her mother had warned her that people would use her, but Alaina had trusted her closest friend with her secret.

And he sent a bounty hunter after her.

After how everything ended between her and her former best friend, she vowed she’d never reveal her gift to anyone again.

However, as she stared down the bounty hunter who had been sent to capture her, Alaina decided it was time to use her gift to save her life.

She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply through her nose. When she opened them, the Mandalorian was taking a step closer to her, and she brought her hands up between them and watched as the man froze.

“What the hell?” came a modified voice under the silver helmet.

Alaina held her ground and raised her hands, letting her powers flow through her to freeze the Mandalorian in place.

“What are you doing to me?” he asked, and his body could only flinch as he struggled to regain control of his body from her.

Alaina smirked in response before her face hardened, and she flung her hands off to the right, sending the armored man airborne. A wave of exhaustion washed over her, and she doubled over, resting her hands on her knees as she panted. Using her powers took a lot out of her, but she couldn’t rest. Not yet. She’d only bought herself a little time.

She looked back, and when the Mandalorian’s body crashed against the ground, she took in a deep breath. Lightning lit up the sky, lighting up the bank of caves in the distance.

“Run,” she whispered and nodded to psych herself up.

“Shit!” the Mandalorian spat as he tried to get up after she had tossed him.

That was all the encouragement she needed.

She sprinted as fast as she could against the slick stone that lined the expanse between the forest behind her and the caves before her. The sound of the river roared in her ears, and she tried to use it as a meditative sound. A sound to encourage her. She used the sound of the rushing water to drown out the sound of the Mandalorian’s boots pounding against the stone as he chased her down.

Alaina gritted her teeth as she pushed herself further, asking more from her body than she ever had before. She was so close. Just a little more, and she could jump to a ledge that had an entrance to one of the caves. Once she was in there, she could get lost—so lost that it would take her days to find her way out of the intricate caverns. Surely, the Mandalorian couldn’t find her if she didn’t even know where she was herself.

A gloved hand grabbed her cloak, knocking the hood down, and yanked her back.

Alaina screamed in rage and twisted until she freed herself from the velvet garment. Unfortunately, her dancer’s grace did not hold a second time. A combination of the slick stone, her speed, and the twist it took to escape the cloak caused her feet to trip over themselves, and the stone was too wet to correct herself. She tumbled forward. Hard.

The ledge she had been aiming for rushed at her, and she crashed into it.

The last thing she saw was a bolt of lightning strike the ground in the distance before her head collided with the mountain’s ledge, and her world went dark.

Five years later...

Stormtroopers.

Of course, Karga led him into the belly of an Imp snake pit.

The Mandalorian squared his shoulders at the sight of the white armored imperial remnants staring him down. The payout better be as impressive as Karga implied it would be, he thought as the door slid closed behind him.

“This way,” the trooper closest to him said, pointing to a door on the left side toward the end of the hallway.

Mando stepped forward, keeping his eyes open for even a hint of trouble.

“Stop her!” a voice yelled from somewhere further down the hall, and Mando tensed, grabbing his blaster.

The other troopers in the hall all swiveled their heads just as a blur of yellow and white came barreling out of a door on the right side.

A frail-looking girl with honey-blonde hair, wearing what appeared to be a white hospital gown, elegantly twisted and outmaneuvered each of the troopers, who looked too stunned to stop her. Unfortunately, the woman was so occupied with looking behind her that she didn’t notice him in front of her.

She collided with his breastplate, and Mando instinctively grabbed her arms to prevent her from falling over. Brilliant emerald green eyes stared up at her, wide with fear.

But he knew those green eyes. Those large emerald orbs had haunted his dreams for the last five years.

“Tin Man?” Alaina whispered, her eyes blowing wide in disbelief.

Mando took her in. Her eyes hadn’t changed in five years. They were still that brilliant shade of emerald that had followed him all these years later.

“Save me,” she pleaded, grabbing onto the top of his chestpiece. “Please,” she begged again.

“Don’t move!” one of the troopers ordered.

He was frozen in shock, not expecting ever to see the emerald-eyed woman again.

Tears welled in her green eyes, and she surprisingly slipped from his grasp. Again.

Mando watched as she spun and twisted around him. Her movements captivated him. If this were his first time meeting her, he never would have pegged her to be a classically trained dancer. It was clear she lacked the muscle of a trained fighter, but the way she could maneuver out of his grasp spoke of someone highly skilled.

His former bounty didn’t make it far. Mando watched, too stunned to do anything, as electricity wrapped around her. He watched on helplessly as she screamed and writhed in pain, falling to her knees while she was being electrocuted. When the electricity seemed to stop, she turned back to him with pleading eyes before another wave washed over her.

“Stop!”

Mando turned to see a small, weasel of a looking man with glasses come running out of the same room as the woman had.

“Stop!” he ordered again, and Mando watched as one of the Stormtroopers released a remote that he hadn’t noticed before.

When he let the button up, the girl stopped convulsing and collapsed to the floor.

The smaller man, who appeared to be an officer of some kind, gave Mando a quick glance but sidestepped him to go to the woman. He pressed his fingers to her neck and nodded, apparently relieved to find a pulse there. He forced Alaina’s eyes open, shining a light into them. Alaina’s face scrunched in pain at the light, and she weakly shoved the doctor away.

“You have to be careful,” he scolded the trooper with the remote. “All of this will be for nothing if you fry her brain. Come, Lainey,” he whispered, helping the woman up off the ground.

“Don’t call me that,” she growled, shoving the doctor away from her. She swiped at her face and frowned when she discovered a slow trickle of blood that came from her nose.

“I'm sorry you had to see that,” the nervous officer apologized, keeping his eye on the blonde woman as she tried to stop bleeding from her nose. “We were expecting you.”

The past came back to him as he was finally able to place the man in front of him.

This was the man who had come to him about the bounty on Alaina all those years ago.

“Doctor Pershing,” the man greeted him with an outstretched hand.

Mando looked at the doctor’s hand without taking it before looking back at the nervous man’s face.

“Right, straight to business. Just like last time,” the doctor nodded and dropped his hand.

Alaina’s eyes moved to his helmet, and her emerald green eyes sparked with rage as she looked at him. Pershing moved to stand next to her and forcefully clamped a hand around her elbow. Alaina tried to yank her arm out of his grasp, but the man clung to her tightly.

Pershing gave him a tight smile. “Follow me,” he directed, turning to move down the hall. When Alaina dug her feet in, the doctor aggressively pulled her to his side, almost causing her to stumble again. “You will be punished for your escape attempt, Lainey,” Pershing whispered into her ear.

It was still loud enough for Mando to hear the man, and he felt his hands subconsciously clench into tight fists at his sides.

It’d been five years since the first time he saw her. She’d been a bounty.

She was the last puck of four he’d taken off Karga. The Guild leader tempted him with the high payout that was attached to the girl. He’d been told that the woman had fled from her husband with his fortune. There was an odd list of specifications for her return—no brute force, no head trauma, no carbonite. He just shrugged, not caring about the list of demands. It would be an easy job. A ballerina versus a Mandalorian… It was laughable to even think about.

Until it wasn’t.

He learned quickly that the story he’d gotten from Karga didn’t quite add up. Then, he was stuck with her for the three days it took to get back to Nevarro. She’d pleaded and begged him, called him a karking Imp, and told him he was working for the Empire. He held firm. She was the job. Bounties lied. It wasn’t his job to be the judge and jury…

“But you are my executioner,” she’d accused him. “If you’re going to deliver me to my death, I want to know your name. Or is your heart also made of tin, Tin Man? ”

He hadn’t forgotten her emerald green eyes in five years.

Pershing motioned for him to take a seat across from an older man in dark robes as he pulled Alaina to stand by the back wall. Alaina ripped her arm from the doctor’s hold and went to stand a couple of steps away from the man.

Now, those green eyes were staring back at him. Instead of tears or terror engulfing her wide green eyes, tears of hate, complete ire, and disgust swam in them.

It seemed the girl had been right. He’d practically gift-wrapped her for the Empire. The outcome wasn’t supposed to matter. She was his bounty. He had turned her in. That was that. She had done something to deserve to be where she was. Well, maybe she did not deserve to be with the Empire, but that had been out of his control. He’d been hired to return her to her husband… so that’s what he did… Or so he thought.

So, why did the girl’s green eyes still find a way to haunt his dreams? Not every night. Not even every month. Usually, after a difficult bounty or something that was more emotionally taxing than usual. Her green eyes and long honey-blonde hair would show up in his dreams. Which only made him feel worse.

He could still remember her name after all these years—Alaina. And here she was, on Nevarro, right where he had left her, in the possession of her new owner, the Empire.

She was thinner than he remembered. Her cheekbones were more prominent than he remembered, and her face had a hallowed, sunken look. She had a scar on her left temple from when she tripped and crashed head-first into that mountain when he chased her down. Her blonde hair was duller than he remembered it being. It was done in a single braid and fell to her lower back, but her hair had lost some of that sheen it had. Now, it looked more like straw—dull, frizzy, and dirty. She was wearing what was basically a white hospital gown that fell to her knees and looked more like a sack hanging off her frail form. The last accessory of note was the thick collar that clung tightly around her neck. A slave's collar. It was what they had used to electrocute her in the hallway earlier.

Mando felt a wave of guilt swell in his chest. Her green, emerald eyes still held that spark he remembered, though. At least the Empire hadn’t taken that from her.

Not yet, his treacherous mind whispered.

Now, he sat across from the Client in the middle of his clandestine meeting Karga had offered. Karga had said this was a client with deep pockets; he just wasn’t expecting to deal with Imps. Mando had half a mind to walk out of the meeting, that was until his former bounty with emerald eyes crashed into him in the hallway. He didn’t know what came over him to make him stay. He rarely ran into quarries after turning them in. In fact, he’d only ever stumbled upon one one other time before now. Maybe it was intrigue. Maybe it was guilt. Either way, she was the only reason he decided to stay and hear the Client out.

Mando’s helmet was directed at the Client, but he kept his eyes on the girl, Alaina, while the Imp spoke.

The Client snapped his fingers, and Mando’s former bounty stepped to the table to stand next to the older Imp. The Client reached under the table, and when he brought his hand back up, he dropped a silver, molded object on the table.

“Beskar?” Mando asked, surprised to see the rare metal brick with the Imperial stamp prominent on it.

“Go ahead, it’s real,” the Client encouraged him with a smug smile. Mando picked up the brick to inspect it closer. “This is only a down payment,” the man continued. “I have a whole camtono of beskar waiting for you upon delivery of the asset.”

Kriff, an entire camtono…

“Alive!” Dr. Pershing spoke up anxiously from behind the table.

“Yes, alive,” the Client confirmed. The man took a deep, annoyed breath before continuing, “Although I acknowledge that bounty hunting is a complicated profession. This being the case, proof of termination is also acceptable at a lower fee.”

“That is not what we agreed upon!” Pershing argued, obviously upset by the suggestion.

Mando glanced up from the beskar and observed the client and Pershing for a moment before turning his gaze to the woman on the other side of the Client. Her green eyes gave nothing away other than obvious disgust directed at him.

Mando should have left, should have walked out. He already had a bad feeling about whatever bounty they had, and besides, a deal with the Imps was not what he had planned. In fact, Mando had made it a point to avoid them at all costs.

However… the camtono of beskar was too good a deal to turn down. The covert needed supplies and Mando had a duty to provide for his people.

“Let’s see the puck,” Mando said in agreement to take the job.

The Client raised his hand, and the emerald-eyed woman took a step forward to stand next to him at the table. She looked back at the client, who nodded to her. The woman, Alaina, turned her gaze back to his helmet and stared at him so deeply that Mando felt as if she could see past the beskar and view his face.

Mando held his breath while she continued her silent examination, not exactly sure what was happening.

“I sense no ill will,” she finally spoke, breaking the strained silence. “He is…” she faded off, and her face became sorrowful, pained even, before she finished with, “he is a man of his word.”

Mando clenched his fists on top of the table. So, that’s why the Imps had wanted her. Hadn’t Alaina called herself gifted? Her words from years ago rang through his head. Mando had even been on the receiving end of her powers a couple of times. It was one of the many offers she had begged him to take her up on instead of basically gift-wrapping her for the Empire. She'd warned him about this, but he hadn't wanted to believe her. Who knew the kinds of things someone like her could help them achieve? What other powers did she possess that the Empire was using her for?

The Client nodded and flicked his hand back, dismissing Alaina to the back of the room again.

The woman didn’t move, though. Curiously, he watched as a subtle change took over the blonde woman. A blank, unseeing look washed over her face. The woman brought a finger up to trace the transparisteel T of his helmet, and Mando sat there frozen as he watched her fingertip glide down the front of his helmet. “He’s drowning in seas of green,” she murmured, tilting her head curiously to the side. It was almost as if she could see something that the rest of them in the room could not.

The Client sighed. “You’ll have to forgive her,” he told Mando as a way of apologizing. “She’s useful, but sometimes not all there,” he finished, tapping his finger to his temple, silently suggesting that Alaina was crazy.

Then, without warning, the Client pressed something under the table, sending a shock through the collar that was secured around her neck, bringing the girl crashing to the ground with a scream.

Mando was out of his chair in an instant, ignoring the troopers who snapped their weapons back to him. He shook his head and knelt down to offer the woman a hand. She looked around, disoriented, before her gaze landed on his outstretched hand. Cautiously, the woman slid her hand into his palm and allowed him to help her back up.

The girl had been right after all...

“I am surprised to see a Mandalorian such as yourself so upset over a little electrical stimulation. Surely, you’ve done worse to a bounty to receive the desired outcome.”

At the Client’s words, the woman’s face changed from curiosity back to fury, directed entirely at him. She ripped her hand from his with a snarl.

The girl had been right, and now her blood was on his hands.

The Client snapped again, and he watched her walk back to her spot on the back wall.

He needed to fix his mistake. He needed to make it right.

“It’s not the method you used,” Mando told the client, bringing his helmet back to glare at the older man. He hoped he sounded halfway menacing so he didn’t blow his… Blow whatever inkling of a plan that was beginning to take shape in his head. “It’s the collar.”

The Client nodded and motioned for him to retake his seat. “Sometimes, things must be done to ensure the safety of others,” he explained with a smile.

Mando crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “The safety of others?” he questioned, trying to use the opportunity to pry information from the man. “What is a waif of a girl like her gonna do?”

He didn’t miss how Dr. Pershing’s demeanor became even more uncomfortable than it already was or how the Client’s smile turned from passive to dark.

“Things you couldn’t even imagine, Mandalorian,” the Client answered ominously. “But, we aren’t here to discuss the girl. We’re here to discuss your next bounty,” he reminded Mando.

Mando gave a single nod, “Right, you were about to show me the puck.” He didn’t care about the next bounty. He cared about the one standing in front of him from five years ago.

It was time to right his wrongs from all those years ago.

“I’m afraid discretion dictates a less traditional agreement,” the Client began, leveling a look at his helmet. “We can only offer you a tracking fob.”

Mando sighed and raised his vambrace to enter the code. “What’s the chain code?” he asked.

“We can only provide you with the last four digits,” the client informed him.

Mando dropped his arm and tilted his helmet at the information—or, more accurately, the lack of information. “Their age? That’s all you can give me?” he asked, putting out with the answer.

“Yes,” the old man nodded. “They’re fifty years old. We can also give you last positional data. Between that and the fob, a man of your skill should make quick work of this.”

Mando stayed quiet, contemplating the bounty, weighing how he was going to pull off the bounty, the beskar, and the girl. Part of him wanted to go back to the original plan of killing them all and taking the girl. Chances were the beskar was hiding here somewhere, too. His eyes flicked back to the girl standing against the wall at the back of the room. Mando ground his teeth. No, if he needed a chance at freeing her, he needed to play into their game. At least for now.

“The beskar belongs back into the hands of the Mandalorians,” the client continued when he didn’t get an immediate response from Mando. “It is good to restore the natural order of things after a period of such disarray, don’t you agree?”

Mando’s helmet moved on its own toward the green-eyed woman clinging to the wall in the back, staring at him with large, mournful eyes. He let out a huff but nodded his head, agreeing to take the job.

I’m sorry, Mando thought, looking back at his former bounty. Alaina’s eyes widened even further, almost as if she had heard him apologize. The look of surprise only lasted a moment before the hard exterior returned to the green orbs. Had she somehow heard his apology? Did her gifts allow her to somehow communicate telepathically?

Mando rose from the table, turning his back to the Imps and Alaina. The job would give him time to come up with a plan for getting the beskar and the girl.

Everything had already turned upside down on him once. What else could go wrong?

Heaven in Hiding Masterlist

Next chapter in series: Chapter 2: Judge, Jury, and...

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