#Mandalorian fic

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Fifteen Months

Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI)  Summary: You've known and loved Din for Fifteen Months. Here's a glimpse into your life with him. Warnings: Smut, unprotected p in v sex , oral (m and f receiving), fingering, voyeurism, fucking on camera, cum eating, lap dance, sex work, din carries you, duck pond emotions, a spray painted mandalorian helmet, goats!, farm life. Words: 8,700

Fifteen Masterlist Masterlist

—-

“Morning,” a rumbly voice says against your forehead with a kiss. “We have two new kids.”

Your eyes open wide, your heart leaping with excitement as you jump out of bed quickly. Din hastily backs away with a grin on his face.

“She had them?!” you ask as you pull on a pair of pants and grab your robe.

“She did. She’s doing good,” he says, smiling at your excitement. “The babies are healthy and happy, already nursing and everything.”

You run down the steps, Grogu at your feet. Boba’s waiting at the front door, standing guard, his tail wagging in greeting when he sees you.

Din leans over and kisses you as you throw your jacket on and step into your boots.

“Oh, good morning, by the way,” you chuckle as you throw the door open and feel the early morning chill of spring in the air.

You wrap your jacket tighter around you, your boots squishing in the dewy grass as you follow Din to the little shelter on the side of the main goat pin.

Dorothy looks up at the sound of the gate creaking. Your favorite goat looks peaceful as her two new babies are cuddled close to her.

“Hi, sweet girl,” you coo, softly stepping towards her before kneeling down to pet her head. “Look at your babies. They’re perfect.”

“Were you up all night with her?” you turn and ask Din.

“Just about,” he yawns.

“You could have come and got me,” you say, rising and dusting the straw off your knees.

“I wanted you to get some sleep,” he replies, his eyes heavy with fatigue but a little brightness, too. “Besides, I wanted to surprise you.”

Din steps closer, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you back against him.

“They’re so perfect,” you muse, watching the little kids stand on wobbly legs and find their footing in the new world.

“They are,” he admires, tightening his hold. “Cobb’s on his way. He’s going to take care of everything since I was up all night.” 

—-

As the weeks turned to months together, the long-distance from Din almost became unbearable, it kept getting harder and harder to leave Din and his farm every time you’d visit him.

So, you sold the townhouse you had worked hard to pay for on your own and moved across the country to live with Din. The idea of being separated any longer had become too much to bear, so you left behind all that was familiar to be with him.

That was five months ago. Dorothy, your favorite goat, started showing signs of her pregnancy only a couple of weeks after you moved in.

Wicket the rooster's crow is now your alarm clock, waking you up every morning in Din's arms, his handsome face only inches away. It’s hard to pull yourself away from his warm arms and soft lips, but the farm chores are waiting for both of you.

Together, you tend to the herd, milking the nannies and bottle-feeding the playful kids who frolic in the pasture. Din's gentle patience for you and all of his animals never fails to fill your heart with love.

During the afternoons, while Din takes care of the farm repairs and building projects, you tend to the garden–your hands buried in the rich soil as you plant and nurture fruits and vegetables that will eventually grace your table.

Evenings are spent in cozy domesticity with Din and your dogs, curling up next to him on the porch swing to watch the sunset paint the sky as Din’s fingers caress your skin.

At night, after all the chores are done, you still do your webcam shows, but no longer for private customers–a decision you made on your own once you left Din’s home the first time.

Din always helps you set up the equipment and watches off-camera, his heated gaze watching your every move.

You’ve embraced Din, his farm, and his life—much like he embraced you and your choice of career. You could never imagine your life without him. This life, with its simplicity and authenticity, is everything you never knew you needed, a blissful escape from the hectic pace and superficial trappings of your old life.

And you couldn't be more grateful for it all.

—-

“Din,” you whisper in his ear and leave a kiss against his cheek. “Cobb just left. It’s almost time for my show.”

Big brown eyes blink open, a smile lights his tired face.

“Hey,” he yawns. “Can’t believe I slept that long.” His hand reaches out and grabs your hip, pulling you into bed with him. His stubble scrapes against your skin as he rolls you onto your back and kisses you. His hands run along your body, slipping under your shirt to caress your soft skin. You melt into his touch, fingers tangling in his messy curls, and you sigh against his lips.

He trails kisses along your jaw down to your neck, his tongue tracing lazy patterns on your skin. You can’t resist him, arching into him, your legs wrapping around his hips to pull him closer. His broad body covers you like a warm blanket.

His hand slides lower, hooking into the waistband of your pants. Just as he starts to tug them down, you very reluctantly break the kiss.

“Hold up,” you pant, struggling to catch your breath. “Ugh, the show…”

He groans, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I knooow,” he grumbles.

You laugh softly, soothingly running your fingers through his hair. “Want to help me tonight?”

He lifts his head, an eager and mischievous glint in his eyes. “I do.”

“You want to pick what I wear?”

Without a word, he rolls off you and strides over to the dresser, rifling through your collection of lingerie. After a moment of deliberation with his eyes studying two different bodysuits, he puts them away and grabs the same blush pink lingerie you wore the first night he and you slept together.

“Really?” you arch up an eyebrow. “That one?”

“Call me sentimental,” he smirks. Tossing you the soft, silk outfit. “Put it on pretty girl.”

“Sentimental, huh?” You grin as you shed your clothes, Din’s eyes darkening as he follows your every move.

The silk slides over your skin as you remember the first night you stayed with Din - the nerves, his declaration of love, the tenderness of his touch, and the realization that he meant everything to you.

You smooth your hands over the fabric, straightening the straps and admiring how it fits.

“Beautiful,” he whispers.

You heat under his intense gaze. “Come on, we need to set up,” you say, grabbing his hand and leading him to your studio.

—-

You’ve noticed a change in Din since you moved in with him. He’s no longer the solitary man—quiet, reserved, and focused solely on his work. As your love blossomed and you grew closer, he began smiling more readily and laughing more freely, his eyes always sparkling at the sight of you.

He used to be guarded—even a bit gruff—but soon, you saw beneath that exterior, sensing a tender heart. Now, you see that tender heart every day. The way he gently cradles a newborn kid in his strong hands. The way he kneels down on the floor to pet and hug his dogs every morning. The way he always makes your tea the exact way you like it every evening.

He’s actually playful, sometimes chasing you across the house before capturing you and ‘attacking you’ with his mouth, or dipping you for a kiss in the middle of the kitchen.

Sometimes he’ll surprise you while you’re outside hanging laundry, sneaking up and wrapping his arms around your waist before gently tackling you onto the grass. His strong arms enveloping you as he pins you beneath him, his eyes twinkling with love.

“Caught you,” he rumbles before pressing his lips to yours.

You love seeing him like this, happy and carefree. He was once your customer in a dark box, just a curious stranger, and now he’s everything to you.

—-

You check the lighting and adjust the camera tripod while Din settles into his usual spot just out of frame, putting on a pair of headphones, close enough to be heard but not seen.

You take your familiar position on the bed, knees bent to your side, with one hand supporting your weight as you lean back. As you pout your lips and adjust the strap on your top, you nod at Din, signaling that you're good to start.

“Ready?” he asks, his finger hovering over the button to start the stream.

Taking a deep breath, you slip into your online persona. “Ready.”

The red light blinks on and you smile at the camera. “Hi everyone, thanks for joining me tonight…”

As you interact with your audience, you can feel Din’s eyes on you. You steal glances at him between poses, noticing how his breathing quickens whenever you arch your back or run your hands along your thighs.

“What should I do next?” Your question is directed at your viewers and yet you know Din can tell you’re asking him.

He grins, lifting his hand into view, his finger curling in a beckoning motion.

“Yeah? You want me closer?” you purr. The chat explodes with messages of excitement.

You lean forward and crawl slowly towards the camera, risking a glance at Din, sitting in his chair shrouded in darkness, his brown eyes turning almost black when you wink at him.

Your hands trail sensually over the silk fabric of your tank top. “What should I take off first?” you ask temptingly.

“The top,” Din’s voice rumbles from off-camera. “Slowly.”

A shiver flows through your body at Din’s voice, this is the first time he’s ever spoken while you’re performing. You reach for the buttons on your shirt, teasingly undoing them one by one. The silk falling open to reveal your bare skin underneath.

The chat goes wild.

“Like this?” you ask, shrugging the garment off your shoulders and letting it fall to the mattress.

“Perfect,” he growls. You can see him palming himself through his sweatpants out of the corner of your eye.

You bite your lip, fighting every urge inside you to look directly at Din. The camera and your customers demand your attention, but you can only feel his eyes on you.

“What next?” you ask breathily.

Din’s voice husks through the air. “Touch yourself,” he commands in a low tone. “Slowly.”

Your hands slide down your body, tracing delicate patterns across your stomach before dipping lower. The silk of your shorts feels smooth against your hand as you tease and rub yourself through the fabric.

“Feels so good, when your hands are all over me,” you moan into the camera. “Feel how wet you make me? I’m so fucking soaked for you baby.”

Din grunts from the darkness as you arch your back and press your breasts together.

“Should I take these off?” you ask, pushing down the waistband of your shorts.

The chat dings with responses, but you wait for Din’s command.

“Yes,” breathes out from his lips.

You slide the shorts down inch by inch and toss them playfully towards Din’s direction before spreading your legs wide, your hand slipping between them, stroking yourself slowly. You moan as you work your fingers in small circles, your hips rocking against your hand.

You hear Din’s breathing grow heavier.

“Mm, it feels so good,” you purr. “But chat… do you think I should have some help?”

He leans forward, his brows rising in surprise. You’ve never asked Din to join in your cam sessions before, but seeing him in the background, watching you every time has become too much. You want him to be a part of it now.

Your audience sends a wave of thumbs ups and enthusiastic messages.

“Baby,” you say breathlessly, “come here.”

He hesitates for a moment before standing up and moving to the side of the bed, just out of frame. His brown eyes are wide with surprise and desire as he reaches his hand out towards you. The chat goes wild as his hand comes into view on camera, trailing up your leg.

His touch is warm and reverent as his fingertips finally brush against your wet folds. “That’s it, touch me,” you moan, relishing in the feel of Din as your customers watch.

His fingers explore you slowly, spreading your wetness and tracing lazy, soft circles around your clit. You lock eyes with him as he slips a finger inside you, momentarily forgetting about the hundreds of viewers on the monitor.

Din nods his head towards the screen, reminding you that you’re at work. You look back at the camera, as Din slowly fucks you with his thick finger.

“Fuck, you feel so good inside me,” you pant for your viewers, losing yourself in Din’s touch. His thumb finds your clit, brushing softly against it. “Just like that.”

He smirks as he watches you unravel beneath his touch. Your back arching as you push your breasts together and tug at your nipples.

“More,” you gasp between moans, your body beginning to tremble as the chat goes crazy watching you lose yourself under Din’s touch.

He responds immediately, adding another finger and stretching you. “You’re so fucking beautiful like this,” he says, his voice thick with lust.

Your hips lift to meet his hand, seeking more pressure, grinding your pussy against his palm. "Talk to me baby, they want to hear you talk to me,” you beg.

His brows furrow in thought, his thumb brushing circles against your clit while his fingers fuck you deeper. “Let it go baby. You’re gorgeous, you like my fingers?”

“Yes, god yes,” you moan as his hand worships your cunt.

“Cum for me baby, show them how I can make you cum.”

“Oh god,” you cry out, your head falling back onto the mattress as you surrender to his touch, breathing hard as your hips cant against him. “I want you,” you beg, leaving the thoughts of your hundreds of viewers behind.

“I’ll give you what you want soon enough,” he promises. “Keep going for them.”

The pressure is building within you, your heart racing and when Din angles his fingers up, that familiar heat pools in your core, every nerve ending dancing and tingling across you.

“Gonna—” you whimper.

“Just a little longer,” he urges, his voice low. “I want them to see how much I love making you feel this way.”

You nod, breathless, your body set alight. You can hear the distant sound of notifications and gifts pinging from the chat, but all you can focus on is Din and his thick fingers.

"I'm so close," you gasp as his thumb presses firmly against your clit. He quickens his pace, fingers moving faster and deeper until your body can't take it anymore.

“Good girl,” he praises. “Cum. Cum for them.”

Din pilots you closer to your peak. Your thighs quaking around his hand, your cunt clenching his fingers as your body begins its ascent towards bliss.

“Oh god,” you moan.

“Cum for me baby,” he growls. “Let go.”

The world explodes around you, stars floating through your eyes as your entire body convulses. Your breath hitching, the world narrowing to just you and Din as you orgasm, gone are your viewers, gone are the dings from the speakers.

“That’s it baby,” he coos. “Look at how fucking beautiful you are. You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum.”

Your body trembles in the aftershocks as he brings his soaked fingers to his lips, eagerly tasting you. Only you can see how his eyes close in pleasure as he licks his fingers clean.

“You did so good for me—and them,” he praises, his own breathing ragged as he pulls down his sweatpants.

"Thanks for tuning in chat, now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go get fucked by my helper,” you say winking before clicking the DISCONNECT button.

Din pounces on you, pinning you to the bed with his muscular body. "Be careful!" you yell. “The equipment!”

Din grins widely as he kisses you. “Don’t worry about the equipment, I’ll set it back up later,” he growls against your lips. “Right now, I’m going to take care of you.”

With one smooth motion, he flips you over onto your stomach. You gasp in surprise as his strong hands grip your hips, pulling you up onto your hands and knees.

He kneels behind you, his hardness pressing against the cleft of your ass. You moan and push back against him, wanting to feel more of him. He chuckles at your eagerness and gives your ass a playful smack that makes you yelp.

“Guess you liked helping me?” you breathily ask.

“I did,” he runs his hand down your spine. “You want my help again?”

“Always,” you breathe, arching your back to present yourself to him.

He groans at the sight of your glistening pussy, swollen with desire for only him. He leans down, placing a tender kiss at the base of your spine. “Look at you, all ready for me, pretty girl.”

His strong thighs brush against yours as he lines himself up with your aching cunt. The broad head of his cock teases your folds as he coats himself in your slick. You moan and push your hips back as you try to take him in.

His hands grip your hips, holding you in place as your pussy accepts him into your tight heat inch by inch.

He sheathes himself fully inside you, filling and completing you. A low groan rumbles from DIn’s chest as he bottoms out inside you, his hips flush against your ass. “You feel incredible,” he rasps, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your hips.

“I’m yours."

“Yeah? You’re mine? This tight, wet pussy is all for me?” He leans over you, his chest pressing against your back as he nuzzles into your neck. His stubble scrapes across the sensitive skin. “Mine,” he hisses possessively. “My beautiful girl.”

He fucks into you faster and harder, the bed you use to touch yourself for your customers now creaking and thudding against the wall from Din’s power. You fist your hands in the sheets, holding on as Din pounds into you. You feel another orgasm in your orbit, the stars beginning to show behind your eyes.

“I’m close,” you whimper. “Don’t stop.”

“Never,” Din pants. “I’ll never stop loving you, taking care of you, making you feel this good…”

His words makes your orgasm rocket through you, your pussy clenching rhythmically around Din’s cock as you see a galaxy across your eyelids.

Din keeps thrusting, grunting with exertion as he fucks your soaked cunt, chasing his own release.

“Fill me with your cum,” you urge breathlessly.

“Fuck, I love you. I’m gonna—” his hips stutter and with a deep thrust, he buries himself inside you. A warrior’s moan tears from his throat as his cock pulses, painting your walls with his cum.

Your arms give out, and you collapse onto the bed, Din follows you, lying down next to you. The two of you lay together, panting for air, a tangle of sweaty and sated limbs. Din wraps his arms around you, pulling you close against his heaving chest. You nuzzle into his neck, planting soft kisses along his jaw.

"That was amazing," you murmur. "Having you with me on camera like that. God, it was so hot."

"Mm, it was," he agrees, his voice a low rumble.

"Maybe we should make it a regular thing. I'm sure my viewers would love it."

“As long as I don’t have to show my face, I’d love nothing more. I love watching you, but being able to touch you in front of your audience. I can’t believe I used to be one of your customers.”

You chuckle softly, snuggling closer against him. "And now look at us. I know way more about goats than I ever thought possible and you know way more about live streaming sex shows than you ever thought possible.”

He laughs and tilts his head down to leave a kiss against your forehead. “I never imagined I could be this happy. This farm feels like a real home now, with you here.”

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

—-

As the warm, late spring weather rolls in, your days on the farm become even busier. The goat kids are growing bigger and braver, exploring more of their surroundings each day. Your nights are spent performing shows for your many viewers, the addition of Din’s hands and voice have driven you watcher views up. You both notice more gifts and chat messages from female viewers, it empowers the two of you to put on even more of a show for them. With a bit of ingenuity and a can of silver spray paint, you’ve come up with the perfect solution for him to not show his face.

Din sits in his office, going over invoices and the calendar as you saunter in wearing one of your favorite dresses.

"Din," you catch his attention.

He turns in his chair, an adoring smile lighting slowly spreads across his lips. "Yeah baby?"

“I thought of a solution for you to not show your face,” you say with a small smile. “Close your eyes.” 

He tilts his head and raises an eyebrow, giving you a curious look before he obeys and shuts his eyes.

You quickly open the closet and pull out the surprise, placing it in his hands.

“Okay, open now.”

He opens his eyes to find a silver helmet in his hands.

“So, that one dude you like from that space movie? I ordered one of his helmets…”

He admires it, turning it in his hand.

“The bounty hunter “ he muses quietly. "My favorite."

“I was worried about copyright soooo I painted it silver instead. But this way… you can be on camera with me without anyone seeing your face.”

His dark brown eyes look up at you, a wicked smile spreading across his lips. 

“Put it on Din.”

His handsome face is slowly covered by the silver helmet.

“It even modulates your voice a bit…”

Din sits clad in his black sweat pants and black t shirt now with the silver helmet atop his head, making him look even larger and more intimidating. His shoulders sit higher, giving off an aura of power and dominance.

“How’s it feel?” you ask, staring at your bounty hunter disguised boyfriend.

“Good, just fine” his voice comes out different from the speaker. A little more tinny, crinkling with feedback—just like how you first heard him through your computer speakers. You’re ridiculously turned on by it. 

“You look… good," you admire. “Really good baby.”

His posture shifts as he leans back, resembling a king with the helmet on… like it was made for him.

"Then, come show me how good I look, pretty girl."

You saunter over and kneel down in front of him, placing your hands on his knees slowly sliding them up his strong thighs as you look up at the expressionless helmet. Your heart races, imagining his eyes watching you behind the visor.

“Is this what you want?” you ask, fingertips grazing the growing bulge in his sweatpants.

“You know exactly what I want,” Din’s modulated voice responds, sending goosebumps across your skin.

You lean forward, nuzzling your face and placing a kiss against the softness of his inner thigh. Your hands move to the waistband of his pants. “May I?,” you ask, tugging gently. He lifts his hips, helping you slide them down.

His cock springs free. Your hands wrap around the base before you give it a firm stroke as you look up at the helmet.

“I love how you look in this,” you muse, before leaning into give the tip of it a kiss. “My bounty hunter.”

The sound of Din’s breath hitching is distorted through the helmet’s speaker. Slowly, you take him into your mouth, savoring the familiar taste of him on your tongue.

You hum around his cock at his praise, taking him deeper into your mouth. You know exactly how he looks under the helmet now. No longer your black square mystery. You can picture his eyes squeezed shut, his bottom lip captured in his teeth, the middle of his eyebrows creased in pleasure.

“Fuck,” he grunts. The modulator gives his voice an extra edge, an extra growl.

Your tongue swirls around his sensitive head already leaking for you, imparting the bitter, salty taste of him against your lips.

“Look at me,” he softly commands.

Your gaze lifts to meet the dark visor of the helmet, imagining the deep brown eyes behind it.

“That’s my pretty girl,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

Your cheeks hollow as you suck him harder, his hips softly thrusting into your mouth.

“So good,” his voice crackles through the speaker. “Always so good to me.”

You take him deeper, choking on the length of him as you relax your throat. His breathing grows heavier, punctuated by grunts of pleasure and your name.

“Hold on, hold on,” Din says suddenly, gently pulling you off him. “Come here baby.”

He helps you rise to your feet, before pulling you onto his lap, your chest meets his. His strong arms wrap around you.

You straddle his lap, the heft of his hard cock presses against you through the thin fabric of your panties. His hands roam across your body, caressing you with reverence and adoration. The cool metal of his helmet brushes against your cheek as he leans in close to you.

“I want to feel you,” Din’s modulated voice rumbles through you.

You nod, lifting your hips as he hooks his fingers into the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down in a swift motion and tossing them aside.

A gasp leaves your lips as you sink down on him. You begin to move on him, rolling your hips in steady waves. Your hands grab his broad shoulders, relishing in the warmth of his body.

His voice comes low and husky through the helmet. “Take what you want pretty girl.”

“You feel so good,” you moan. “So big inside me. Just perfect baby.”

Din’s hips thrust up to meet you, his cock hitting deeper inside you.

“Din,” you moan, resting your forehead against the cool metal of his helmet. The rapid beat of his heart thuds against your hands when you place them on his chest. Pulling back, you look into the helmet, unable to see his face, but knowing the exact intense look of concentration he always has when he’s close.

He slides his hand between your bodies, and finds your clit, swirling it in sweet circles against it. A gasp escapes your lips and you smile at the pleasure coursing through you. Your hips instinctively buck against his hand, craving more of him. The pressure builds as his thick cock and skilled finger make you move more frantic. Your hands move up his neck to grip the base of his helmet.

“I…want to kiss you,” you whimper as you lift the helmet, exposing his handsome face.

The sweat across his dewy skin makes it glow even more golden. His plush lips are slightly parted as he looks at you with his big brown eyes. Leaning in to kiss him, the helmet slips from your hand and lands on the floor with a thud.

God, you’ve missed seeing him. Your fingers tangle into the soft, dark curls of his hair as you lean forward. “I love you,” you breathe out against his chin, kissing your way down to his neck, licking the slight salt of his sweat and tasting him.

Din's thumb increases its pressure on your clit as he thrusts up harder into you. "I love you, so much," he pants, his voice rumbling against you with desire and adoration.

Your core tightens, the familiar tingle that only Din can give you washes over your body. You trail your tongue up to his mouth and kiss him hungrily.

"Din," you gasp, breaking the kiss as your orgasm lights through your body. Shuddering in his arms, clenching around his thick cock. You lean back, letting him fuck into your slickness as your muscles grow loose.

With a guttural groan, he thrusts his hips against you, his movements stuttering as he follows you over the edge. His thick cock pulsing inside of your walls as he cums. You feel his warm breath on your neck as he buries his face in the crook of it.

For a moment, you both stay still, basking in the afterglow of your orgasms and trying to catching your breath. Din's hand runs soothingly up and down your back as you come down from your high.

"You're incredible," he murmurs, voice thick with reverence and awe. "I don't know what I did to deserve you."

"I'm the lucky one," you whisper back, reaching up to cup his jaw. "You've given me everything I never knew I needed.”

“Maybe I should wear the helmet—for your next show?” he asks, his eyebrow tilting up.

“I think you should,” you smile, guiding his face down to yours, capturing his lips in a slow, deep kiss. “I’ll let the fans know to expect something different.”

—-

As the weeks pass, you notice Din spending more evenings out in the old barn on the edge of the property. He always kisses you sweetly before heading out, promising he won't be long. But the hours stretch on, and on some nights, he’s out there long past bedtime.

Curiosity gnaws at you, but you respect his wishes to let his trips to the barn remain a mystery.

One night, as you’re sitting at the kitchen table drinking a cup of tea and splitting corn bread with Grogu, Din returns through the back door with Boba happily trotting behind him.

“Welcome home,” you wink, standing to pour him a cup of tea.

“Mm,” he hums happily.

“Am I ever going to find out what you’re doing out there?”

“You’ll see soon enough, pretty girl,” he assures with a dimple deepening grin.

He steps behind you wrapping his arms around your waist as you pour him a cup. He nuzzles into your neck peppering your skin with soft kisses.

“Be careful,” you order, “the tea is hot.”

“Mm,” he tugs on your shoulder, turning you to face him. “I no longer want the tea.”

He grabs your ass, lifting you up into his hold. Your surprised yelp echoes through the room as you quickly wrap your legs around his waist for support.

“Din! What are you doing?” you giggle breathlessly.

He strides to the kitchen island, carrying you in his arms like a prized bounty and places you atop the cool butcher block.

“I want a taste of you,” he grins roguishly. His large hands skim up your thighs, bunching up the fabric of your dress.

“Oh god,” you roll your eyes. “You’re ridic—”

Your breath hitches as his hand reaches the apex of your thighs.

“No panties, huh? Were you waiting for me, pretty girl?” he asks, his finger tracing lightly along your bare skin, finding you already wet for him.

“Always,” you breathe.

He sinks to his knees before you, spreading your thighs wide and hooking your legs over his broad shoulders. His stubble scratches against your inner thighs as he nuzzles closer to your core. The cool wood and his warm touch sends a shiver through your body.

You gasp at the first touch of his tongue against your sensitive clit. He works his way around it with slow, deliberate licks and kisses, gently sucking and pulsing his tongue.

You moan loudly, tangling your fingers into his dark hair. He hums with appreciation against your skin as you pull the soft waves, urging him on. He laps at your arousal, drinking down the wetness you spill for him.

You press yourself harder against his eager mouth, he devours you, his thick tongue delving in and out of your eager cunt.

“Fuck,” you whimper. “Oh my god.”

Your muscles begin to tense, your thighs begin to quake. Din’s tongue works tirelessly again your cunt.

“Close,” you gasp, your hips rolling against his face.

He groans as his tongue journeys up to your clit before flicking it rapidly against you. Two of his fingers slide into you, the stretch of them and the slow drag in which he pulls them in and out of you transports your orgasm higher. The familiar galaxy of stars Din always brings you twinkle behind your eyelids as you pulse against his fingers and tongue.

You fall apart atop the cool wood, with Din’s hot mouth against you working you through your orgasm, lapping up every drop you give him.

Your fingers comb through his soft hair, massaging his scalp with affection as he places soft kisses along your thighs.

“My tea’s probably cold by now.” he says, rising from between your legs and giving you a kiss. “Guess we should just take this to bed, huh?”

You chuckle breathlessly. “It’ll be a hell of a lot softer on my back than the countertop I can vegetables on.”

A wide smile spreads across his face as he lifts you up into his arms and carries you upstairs.

—-

“Ready for this?” You ask, holding the helmet out to him.

“I am,” he nods.

“I love you.”

He leans in, giving you a kiss before raising the helmet up to his head. “I love you too.”

Din sits on the chair, clad in his new helmet and his black sweatpants, his muscular, golden chest on full display for you, and soon, your viewers.

You hit the link to your show’s room. Your mouth drops at the amount of viewers waiting.

“Holy shit,” you gasp. “We have over 2,000 viewers.”

A rumbling hmph leaves the helmet.

“It’s just you and me,” you remind him.

“Hit connect baby,” he says, sitting up straighter and folding his arms across his chest.

You do as he says and hit connect. Hiding your nervousness and shock behind a sultry smile.

“Hi everyone,” you purr. “I see a lot of new faces here tonight. I guess word got around about my new costar.”

You sway your hips slowly and teasingly, the messages of your viewers illuminating the contours of your body as you let the anticipation build. Din watches intently, his helmeted head tilted slightly.

“Tonight,” you say, before glancing back to Din, “you’re going to watch me fuck my boyfriend.”

The chat explodes, gifts and tips fill the sidebar. Turns out, there is a market for this.

You turn away, stepping closer to Din, each movement slow and sensual as you dance across the room. You can see his breath hitch behind the visor as he takes in every inch of your body and each roll of your hips.

His face is totally concealed by his helmet, and yet you feel his eyes stalking you as you dance for him and your viewers.

Bending over, you plant your hands atop his thick thighs, gripping them and staring into the visor as you give him a wink and mouth “I love you.” His body tenses as he keeps his arms folded across his chest.

You turn your back to him, giving him a full view of your ass barely covered in the silver fabric of the thong he picked out specifically for tonight. You begin to move in rhythm with the music softly playing in the background, gliding your hands along the soft skin of your thighs. You turn slightly to look over your shoulder at him as your hands travel up to your silver bra unclasping it and baring your chest to the camera.

The speaker on the headset amplifies his breathing, reminding you of the first night you talked to him. Deep, steady breaths, sometimes a small grunt, maybe a light whimper.

You dance along to the song, dipping low before popping up with a twist of your hips, your hands charting a path across your skin, pinching and pulling your nipples before dipping down to the shiny straps of your thong. The snap of the fabric against your hip stings when you give it a playful tug then let it go.

"I’m soaked for you,” you moan, running your hand across the wet seam of your thong.

Turning to face him, your lips curl into a teasing smirk at the sight of him. The silver helmet may conceal his face, but his body's response to your dance is evident. His chest rises and falls in sync with his deep breaths, his arms now uncrossed and resting on his thighs as his hands grip tightly.

Slowly, you slink over to him and straddle his lap., reveling in the power you holder over him with your movements. Your hands land on his broad shoulders as you grind against the hardness straining against his black sweatpants.

“You like what you see, baby?” you purr, loud enough for the mic to pick up.

“Always,” his modulated voice rumbles.

You rock your hips, rubbing yourself against his bulge. Soft gasps and moans spill from your lips, your head falling back in pleasure. 

“Do you want me to keep dancing for you?” you ask, swirling your hips.

“Yes,” he hisses.

“No touching,” you kiss the cool metal of his helmet. “Okay?”

The helmet tilts when he nods an affirmative.

Sliding off Din's lap, your fingers run along his chest as you rise. With a sultry smirk, you turn and sway your hips as you walk a few steps away from him. The beat of the music pulses through the room as you begin to dance.

Your hands glide over your body, fingers trailing across your skin as you arch your back and roll your hips.

Slowly, you turn to face him, his helmet is tilted as he watches intently.

When you reach him, you place your hands on his wide shoulders and lean in close. "Eyes on me, bounty hunter,” you whisper, your breath fans across the cool metal of his helmet.

Straddling his lap once more, you begin to grind against him in rhythm with the music. Your hips roll and swivel, creating delicious friction between you. Din's hands clench and unclench at his sides, fighting against the urge to touch you.

“Remember," you purr, "no touching."

A groan crackles through the helmet's speaker. You grin, knowing exactly how much he wants to touch you.

Rolling your body on top of him, your breasts graze against his chest before you lean back, your fingers tracing the curve of your breasts and down your stomach to the waistband of your thong.

Din's breathing grows heavier, the sound crackling through the helmet's speaker.

You rise off of him and turn to face the camera, your fingers hooking into the waistband of your thong, teasing at the thin silver fabric. You lock eyes with the camera as you slowly peel the garment down, revealing your soaked cunt to your viewers.

Facing Din again, you lower yourself to all fours and crawl to him. Your hands gliding up his thighs as you rise, nuzzling your face against the tent of his pants before pressing your body against his. You can feel the heat radiating off him and the tension in his muscles as he fights not to touch you. 

Turning around, you lower yourself onto his lap, your back to his chest. Your ass grinds against his hardness, feeling it strain against his sweatpants.

You’re aching and wet for him, each light whimper from his headset pools even more wetness between your legs.

“Go ahead and touch me baby,” you moan.

Din's hands immediately grasp your hips, pulling you firmly against him. His hands roam your body, one sliding up to cup your breast while the other dips between your thighs. You gasp as his fingers find your clit, circling it slowly.

“Feel how wet I am for you baby?” you moan.

A muffled groan escapes the helmet's speaker, Din’s fingers exploring your slick.

You roll your hips against his hand seeking more of his touch. 

“You want me to fuck him, chat?”

A splurge of thumbs ups and resounding yeses fill your screen.

You rise off Din's lap and turn to face him, hands gliding down his muscular chest to the waistband of his sweatpants. Slowly, teasingly, you tug them down, freeing his hard cock, his tip thick and glistening with precum. There’s something about sharing Din’s gorgeous cock with thousands of your viewers. One of the first glimpses you ever got of him was his golden toned cock, and now, here in the home you share, you’re sharing it with the world. 

"Look how hard you make him, chat," you purr, wrapping your hand around his length and giving it a slow stroke. Din's hips twitch at your touch, a hiss of breath crackling through the helmet's speaker. You smile at him, proud of his bravery and enthusiasm for your job.

You straddle his lap, the tip of his cock nudging against your soaked entrance.

Bracing your hands on his broad shoulders, you take all of him in when you settle on his cock. His hands slide around to grip your ass, as you begin to move on top of him.

The stinging stretch of him inside you feels so familiar, and yet everything is different now. Now, thousands of people are watching you take his cock as he stays concealed behind the shiny, silver mask.

You grin down at Din’s exposed chest under the helmet before leaning down and taking his nipple into your mouth, sucking on it hard. If you can’t kiss his lips, you’ll kiss his body.

Din’s hips jerk forward, his cock hitting deeper against your tightness.

You lick your way up his body and kiss the metal of his helmet. "This isn't fair," you breathe out against it, "you look so fucking hot."

Din growls into the speaker, his voice modulated and deep as his hands slide up your sides possessively.

“Face them, show them how you take my cock.”

You moan loudly, at his words, quickly turning in his hold and sinking back down on him, taking all of his thick cock.

Your back presses against his broad chest, his hands wrapping around to cup your breasts and pinch your nipples.

"Ride me just like that, pretty girl," he rumbles. "Take what you need."

Din’s hands roam over your body, strong and calloused against your soft skin. His fingers find your clit, rubbing and flicking it just the way he knows you love it.

Din growls again, his hips snapping up to meet yours with force. You can feel his cock throbbing inside of you as you reach behind him and grip onto his thick thighs for support as you ride him.

You can see the comments flooding in on your screen, filled with praises.

"I'm close baby, so close," you whimper, arching your back against his broad chest. The cool metal of his helmet presses against your shoulder.

"Cum for me," Din commands. The rumble from his speaker transports you right back to the nights you used to spend together, thousands of miles away from each other. Now, you’re here in the home you both share, taking his cock for your audience.

Everything sends you over the edge. You want to shout Din’s name, but you also wish to respect his anonymity... so you decide on a compromise.

“Mando!” you scream as your orgasm bursts through you. His breathing grows more rapid as your walls clench around his thick cock. Your head thuds against the metal of his helmet, your eyes squeezing tight, your lip capturing between your teeth as you you cum for Din—and your audience.

He lets out a groan that crackles through the speakers as he spills himself deep inside you. You collapse back against him, your bodies slick with sweat and chests heaving.

For a moment, you forget about the camera, the viewers, the chat still going wild as you listen to the cadence of Din’s breathing through the helmet’s speakers.

Slowly, still quivering in the aftershocks of your intense orgasm, you rise up from Din's lap. His softening cock slips out of you as you stand on wobbly legs. Turning to face the camera, you give your viewers a sultry smile.

"Look what he did to me," you purr, reaching down to spread yourself open with two fingers. Din's cum begins to drip out of your well-fucked pussy, glistening on your inner thighs. You trail a finger through the slick mess, bringing it to your lips to taste the mixture of you and Din.

The chat explodes with comments and tips, everyone going wild at the sight before them. You can’t look away from the image of Din on the monitor, sitting back in the chair, his broad chest heaving as he catches his breath. He’s naked, his cock laying heavily between his legs, glistening with a mixture of your collective orgasms.

"Mmm, he always fills me up so good," you moan appreciatively, scooping up more of the creamy fluid leaking out of you. You slip your fingers into your mouth, making a show of licking them clean and savoring the taste of Din's release.

Behind you, Din stands. You watch in the monitor as he stalks forward.

The chat window is full of flames, hearts, and messages. Encouragement for the two of you flowing in by your viewers. You smile at the camera as Din comes up behind you, pulling you close against his body and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Hope you enjoyed everybody! We’ll see you next week.” The silver of Din’s helmet glints in the light when he nods as you shut down the show.

“Holy fuck!” you scream when you see the money from tonight’s show in your account, more than you’ve ever dreamed of earning. You turn around in his hold, lifting the helmet up and giving him a kiss. “Din, the audience loves you.”

—-

The wooden bench with its chipping paint and indentations from years of use overlooking the little pond the ducks gather in is your favorite spot on this earth. Better than the clubhouse in the woods behind your childhood home that you used to call yours as a curious child, better than the sanctuary of a townhome you used to call yours with all of your belongings, better than the bedroom you now share with your boyfriend who you love with all of your heart.

The sun has long gone down, the little lantern hanging on the wooden post swings in the night breeze as the moon sits high and full in the sky. 

A warm jacket is placed around your shoulders. It smells of Din. 

“Hi,” you turn and smile at him.

He gives you a shy smile and joins you on the bench, wrapping his arm around you and pulling you closer. 

You breathe in the familiar smell of him along with the wet dirt and the dew left on the grass. It smells of home. 

He sighs, his fingers against your shoulder tap nervously.

“You alright?” you ask.

He looks at you, deep brown eyes meeting yours and nods with a soft smile.

“I still can’t believe you’re here with me sometimes.” 

“I know, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He hums in agreement. 

“I think we were destined to be together, like it was somehow written in the stars,” he says, his voice deep and introspective as he gazes up at the twinkling stars above. “I used to dream of being in space and looking down on earth, like I never belonged down here. But now, with you, I feel like… I belong.”

You lean your head against his shoulder and look up to the dark sky painted with stars.

“I couldn’t agree more,” you smile, tracing a constellation with your finger. “These can be our stars.”

Din’s hand gently covers yours, his thick fingers lingers on your ring finger.

“I like those,” he says with a nervous breath. “They’re ours now.”

He pulls away, turning to look you in your eyes, a shy smile deepening his dimple. “Would you stay here with me forever as… my wife?”

Your eyes widen in surprise and tears prick at the corner of your eyes. “It’s all I’ve ever wanted,” you breathlessly say.

Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart races as he reaches into his jacket, pulling out a beautiful golden ring with delicate stars etched onto it.

“This is what I’ve been working on in the barn all those nights. I made it myself.”

Tears fall down your face as Din takes your left hand and slides the ring on your finger. It fits perfectly, as if it was meant to be there all along.

You stare at the golden band, captivated by how beautiful it looks on your finger. This is where you are meant to be, with him.

“I love you,” you whisper, your voice full of emotion.

“I love you too,” Din replies. “We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all.”

—-

Fifteen Years Later...

Two quiet giggles awaken you from your sleep.

"It's Christmas! Can we go downstairs?" Bo asks excitedly, bouncing on her feet, her face lit with an excited smile. "I think I heard Santa last night!"

“No you didn’t,” Greef responds, rolling his eyes. “The chimney’s on the other side of the house.”

“Greef, ” Din sternly commands as he rises out of bed. “Be nice.”

“Sorry dad,” Greef apologizes.

You smile sleepily at your children's excitement, stretching as you climb out of bed.

“Come on!” Bo yells as she runs out the door.

"Alright, alright, we're coming," you yawn, quickly pulling on your robe and slippers.

Din wraps his arm around your waist as you make your way downstairs, following the pitter-patter of little feet racing ahead of you.

It was around this time ten years ago that Din sat you down and told you about Greef and Bo, the twin foundlings in need of a family. As a former foundling himself, Din couldn't bear the thought of the twins not having a safe and nurturing home. With tears in your eyes and love in your heart, you both made the decision to become the parents of Greef and Bo. The call to Cobb was made, and what used to be your livestream studio, turned into a nursery.

That first Christmas as a family of four, Din had planted Christmas trees on your farm. Now, one of those trees is sitting proudly in the corner of your living room, covered in twinkling lights and handmade ornaments.

"Look! Santa came!" Bo squeals, pointing at the cookie crumbs.

"Can we open presents now? Please?" Greef asks, barely containing his excitement.

“Hold on, let me get the coffee going,” Din chuckles, heading to the kitchen to turn the coffee maker on.

The kids vibrate with wonderment, taking in all of the brightly wrapped presents underneath the tree.

“Okay, have at them,” Din says, settling onto the couch next to you and pulling you close.

The kids don’t hesitate, diving for the presents. Bo chooses a soft, squishy package while Greef grabs a rectangular box, tearing into the wrapping paper.

"A new stuffed animal!" Bo exclaims, hugging a plush bear to her chest. "I'm gonna name her Chewie."

"Awesome, the new flying game I wanted!" Greef grins, examining the box. “Can we play it later, Dad?”

“We can,” Din nods with a warm smile. "I'm a pretty good pilot if I do say so myself."

You spend the next hour watching the kids open gift after gift, their faces lighting up with each reveal. There are new books, art supplies, clothes, and toys scattered across the floor. Fifteen minutes has turned into fifteen years. A black box of mystery has turned into a house full of love.

—-

A/N: Thank you *SO* much for reading. I loved writing Din and his cam girl, and I hope you love the glimpse of their future life together.

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

Night on the town

Mandalorian x reader

Pairing: Din Djarin Mandalorian x reader

Warning: mentions of alcohol and some 18+ themes. No minors please!

Summary: Reader doesn’t listen to Mandos warnings about staying on the ship, then wakes up with something new and a bit troubling…

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

“Don’t leave the ship” those four words had been echoing in your head all week.

For months you’d never really minded following your Mandalorians orders, most planets he landed on for bounties were backwater scugholes whose inhabitants were low level creeps and criminals. You were perfectly fine staying within the safe compounds of the ship normally…but this planet was different.

Ceralis 3 was known for its bustling city full of high quality clothing stalls, the tastiest food establishments, musical performances, and oh how you couldn’t stop thinking about the renowned city square that’s lit up like starlight when the suns go down and everyone gathers to dance. You’d seen so many brochures advertising Ceralis 3 as a top vacation spot. And now you were finally here… stuck on a ship.

“Must be nice..” you mumble head resting flat on your arms watching the suns set from behind the glass of the ships viewport. The twinkling lights in the distant mocking you as if to say “here we are shining so bright and you’re stuck in a dark smelly cockpit”.

Ok so maybe that’s an exaggeration.. but still you were minutes away from going crazy with boredom.

“Don’t leave the ship” he said from the bottom of the ramp like he always does before leaving for a bounty.

Bounty hunting usually doesn’t take a week though… ugh

You lean up on your arms watching the twinkling lights of the city getting brighter. What was everyone doing now? Drinking? Dancing? Having 1000x more fun than you were right now??

You glance at the small data pad that Din gave you. When he was finished with a bounty he usually sent a quick message through.

You checked it again for the millionth time.

No new messages…

What if you just went for a quick look… no

No you couldn’t do that, din would be angry if he found out.

If he found out…

If…

You check the data pad again. Every time he sent a message it usually took him a decent amount of time to get back to the ship, he’d usually stop for supplies and whatnot.

So you had time even if he messaged you while you were out…

But could you break his trust so easily-

*pop pop pop*

Bright strands of fiery light shot up from the skyline in the shapes of flowers.

Well he didn’t need to know everything…

You sprung up practically jumping down the ladder to your small closet.

You smirked pulling out the one nice “out for a night on the town outfit” you owned. A stark contrast to the usual travel outfits you donned.

You applied some light makeup, grabbed your satchel and were off the ship in record time.

You took note of the pathway, and kept the data pad close to your hip in case that all to familiar beep sounded and you needed to rush back..

You gasped nearing a well lit archway taller than anything you’d seen before.

Giddy with excitement you ran in and were immediately overtaken by a rush of… well everything.

The streets were lit bright with lanterns, full of laughing and singing people.

The smells were making your mouth water wondering what on earth could smell so heavenly, and the buildings.. oh the absolutely breathtaking carvings. You didn’t know what to do first!

So you did the first thing that you saw, you ate from several stalls, bought a bunch of jewelry and souvenirs that you absolutely didn’t need, watched a few performances, drank some juice being served on a tray that you didn’t realize had alcohol… and then made your way to the famous square.

Oh and what a sight it was… like someone had the most dazzling dream and brought it to life. Everyone was jumping and dancing to live musicians. You wondered briefly if your Mandalorian could dance. Probably not.. but maybe if you really asked nicely he would.. or if you just dragged him..

You wished he was here.. you usually weren’t separated that long so it’s been a little lonely.

You sighed watching the couples dance and hold each other warmly. Some kissing some just gazing into each others eyes…

Ok more than a little lonely..

Maybe you should head back..

You sipped on your juice walking back in the direction of the ship.

What lovely juice, so sweet and spicy at the same time..

Mmm juicy juice so lovely

Hmm you peeked at a stall in passing, maybe you should get him something? Yeah that’s right, he wouldn’t be mad at you for leaving if you got him a gift!

Maybe you’d get some more juice while you shopped and then maybe——-

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

Ugh why is my head pounding so bad…

You wince sitting up in the cot holding your head with a hand.

You blink slowly regaining your senses, the previous nights memories ending in a blur. You didn’t even remember coming back to the ship…

Ugh you were so stupid, the “juice” was alcohol and you’d had so many of them..

You panicked a bit not seeing your satchel on the hook but then calmed seeing it on the floor.

With a sigh you reached in pulling out the data pad and pressing the button.

*new message*

Oh kriff..

*Heading back. Shouldn’t take more than half a day.*

Half a day… wait when did he send that!?

The sky was so bright outside how long had you been asleep?? You looked down seeing you were still dressed up from last night.

I better change before he gets-

You stumble a bit feeling your leg let out a painful throb.

Oh no was I stupid and injured myself last night?

Quickly you pull up your clothing expecting a bruise or a cut or something but instead what awaited you was infinitely worse.

“Oh maker what have I done…”

You vaguely remember wanting to get something for Din but why on earth did your drunken state think that was a good idea!?!?

Kriff what did I do!?!?

You wobble quickly to the mirror to get a better look at the new addition to your outer thigh.

An abstract outline of your mandalorians helmet with his name cursively written under it.

Oh now you remembered.. bits and pieces as you stumbled into a tattoo stall and scribbled on a paper demanding it be the bestest bestie best tattoo ever, you even remember the guy asking if you wanted to wait until you were sober but then you cried until he did it.

Kill me now…

Ugh Why why why!? How was I going to explain this to Din!?

As if the universe was punishing you even more you heard a familiar beeping and gasped feeling the vibrations of the ships ramp moving.

Of kriffing course he would arrive now!

You quickly pull your clothing down and try to look as nonchalant as you can watching as Din walks up the ramp into the hull.

His bounty blocked your view of him but he was fighting and throwing some curses but Din is quick to throw him in the carbonite freezer.

You gulp as he finally turns around to regard you.

“Welcome back..” you tried to sound like your normal self. Key word being tried.

Din stood still for a moment then his helmet slowly shifted from your face down to your body then up again.

Oh yeah my outfit and makeup…

“You look…nice” he said a bit confused.

Maybe you could spin this…

“Oh well I um wanted to um surprise you… I really missed you Din..”

You hoped your nervousness would be taken as you just being embarrassed to dress up for him.

He tilted his helmet a bit, his stance relaxing ever so slightly and he took a couple steps in your direction.

“Yeah?”

Oh how easy men could be sometimes…

“Yeah” you smiled stepping forward too and wrapping your arms around him. “You were gone a while this time..”

He pulled back a bit to see you but his strong arms were still held firm around you.

“Yeah the bounty was more work than I originally anticipated, sorry you had to be alone so long.”

“It’s alright..you’re back now that’s all that matters…” you smile up into his visor knowing his eyes are deeply peering into yours just as lovingly.

His hands slide a bit and he grips you a bit tighter “if I knew you were gonna dress up just for me, I would’ve forgotten all about the bounty and rushed here..”

“Mm I’ll have to remember that for next time…” you lean up tilting your head to the side to kiss the bare skin just under his helmet. He breathes in, deep and crackley through the modulator.

Your hands reach up about to lift his helmet off when suddenly his head moves to the side.

“Din?” You frown a bit following his gaze then when you do your eyes widen a bit at what you see.

A beautifully beaded tote bag overflowing with items leaned against the wall, a strand of pearls strewn across it along with a shimmery scarf and a bottle of “juice”. Oh Kriff just how drunk did you get last night!?!?

“What’s that?”

“Oh um just some old stuff I pulled out when I was trying stuff on for you..”

He pulled away and you knew you had messed up.

“Din..?”

He approached the bag and knelt down. He picked up the bottle with one hand.

“And you just happened to have an alcohol that’s only produced on this planet in your storage?” His voice had completely shifted from gentle and loving to interrogative typical pre meeting me Mando.

“Well…”

He abruptly stood up with a sigh.

“You left the ship” he stated with a huff.

You bite your lip looking away from the intense stare.

“…”

“What’s the one thing I told you never to do?” You could tell he was angry but was trying to hold it back.

“…go against your orders..”

“Go against my orders and what did you do?”

“I left the ship… I’m sorry but I was so bored and lonely and I just…” maker could you sound any more pathetic and whiny.

He let out a huff of annoyance, “you put yourself in danger because you were bored?”

“Din..”

“You don’t know this planet, and I have a million enemies, I don’t tell you to stay on the ship for the hell of it” he bit out getting more frustrated.

“I… I know… I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking..”

You heard a sigh again and hesitantly looked up. His shoulder relaxed a bit his tone a bit softer but still plenty stern. “I can’t go after bounties and worry about you too..”

Well now you felt like absolutely shit

“Oh Din I’m so sorry, of course you can’t, shouldn’t actually. It was dumb and stupid and reckless and I promise I won’t leave again. No matter how tempting it is..”

He stood for a moment deciding you were sincere in your words, he held out a single arm motioning for you to come closer again,

You do and hug him muttering another apology.

“So you didn’t dress up for me huh..?”

Oh..

You peek up from his chest finding his gaze on yours,

“Well… not exactly but my first thought when I looked in the mirror was how I wished you were by my side to see me… does that count?”

He lets out a scoff and lowers his hands “No”

You pout

“But I know how you can make it up to me”.

His hands are back on you stroking your thighs kneeding them softly when all the sudden you yelp.

He pulls away shocked “what’s wrong?”

“Oh uh nothing just got caught up in the moment…”

His head tilts and boy for someone with a helmet on his expressions were clear as day.

“Wanna run that by me again?”

“I had a cramp?” You lamely ask.

Seconds of silence pass before his hands are reaching for the tips of your dress.

“Ah wait no!”

You jump back not ready now or ever for him to see your latest mistake.

He freezes, now that’s something you’d never done before.

“You hurt yourself didn’t you?” He crosses his arms.

“I did not..”

“Then what are you hiding?”

“….”

He sighs again loudly “you have three seconds to show me before I do it myself.”

Kriff…

You hesitate not knowing what to do.

“One”

Ugh what now!?

“Two”

Maybe you could lock yourself in the fresher…

“Three”

You make a dash for the open door but make it all of two steps before strong arms pull you back.

“Really?” He huffs annoyed.

“Din wait!”

“Just relax what’s the worst it could be?”

No way you couldn’t show him, you catch him off guard by fighting his hold.

“Hey stop that”

“Enough!” His bark cuts through you like a knife and you freeze.

He spins you around, his hands locked onto your arms.

“Din...” you plead but he won’t budge.

He maneuvers your hands into one of his while his other reaches for your dress. You can’t help but try one more time to evade him and use the one move he taught you in self defense,

Of course because he’s who he is all it buys you is three seconds before he has you sprawled over his knees.

How ironic… if only he knew how you’d fantasized about this exact position.

“You really wanna make things hard don’t you?”

“Din please you don’t understand! Just leave me alone-“ and just like that the delicate freshly tattooed skin was exposed to the cool air of the ship and his searing gaze.

Then it was silent..

“I-I didn’t mean to I got drunk by accident and then wanted to get you a gift and for some crazy reason I thought a tattoo would be a good idea and…and…and-“ your nervous ramblings continued until you suck in a sharp breath feeling soft fingers caress the area just around the tender area.

“You did this…for me?”

“W-well yeah…”

You try to turn your head to see him but it’s impossible in your condition.

He silently caresses the area around it as if he…wait no way!?

“Do… do you like it?” You asked hesitantly.

He let out a breath.

“Can’t say I hate it…”

Oh my maker

“R-really?” You question an eyebrow raised.

“Mm” you flinch a bit feeling his fingers trace over the sore area.

He pulled you up so you were straddling him facing his visor.

“Sorry I left the ship…” you say after a few moments of silence.

“Swear you won’t do that again..”

“I promise..”

“Are you angry with me?”

“Yes” he said without hesitation.

“Really? After all the trouble I went through getting you your gift” you smirk a bit wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

His hands gripped your thighs squeezing softly, “Yes…” you smiled knowing by his voice he was all talk. You already had him in the palm of your hand.

“Want me to make it up to you?” You whisper near the side of his helmet.

He makes some sort of hum through the helmet and you take that as a yes, you push him back a bit so the distance between you is closed, your core pressed against him deliciously.

His hands travelled around squeezing and caressing in the ways only he knew how you liked. You’re about to lift his helmet up so you could finally kiss him when he pauses his movements.

Ugh not again

“What’s wrong?”

“You were drunk…?”

Ah Kriff, why did I have to let that part slip out.

“Y-yes but just a bit…”

He looks at you in a no nonsense way,

“Ok maybe more than a bit but it really wasn’t my fault, I didn’t know the drinks had alcohol..”

He sighs

Man if I had a credit for everytime I made this man sigh…

“I know I know, it was dumb and reckless and I won’t do it again, can we go back to what we were doing please? Remember the tattoo I got for you?”

I push his helmet towards my thigh.

He lets out a little laugh, “alright alright I get it”

His thumb strokes it again, “it suits you”

You let out a laugh, “I think it suits you more…didn’t realize you were that type of guy…but honestly it’s growing on me too, he did a good job didn’t he?” You peer down admiring the details. Not realizing Dins fingers had froze.

“He?”

“….”

Oh Kriff

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

I’ve been on a huge Mandalorian kick lately and had this little idea. Hope you enjoyed! Also please excuse the lazy editing❤️

[wwinterwitch]

new vows – din djarin x gn!reader

summary: the first time din ever removed his helmet in front of you

pairing: din djarin x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

word count: 2.5k

warnings and tags: fluff and angst + good ending, insecure!din, established relationship, kissing, the helmet's removed, doesn't follow the plot of the show at all (it's just din, reader and grogu being a happy family)

author's note: oof i hate how this turned out but my best friend read it and told me to post it so here we are, i hope it doesn't suck as much as i think it does

a reblog and/or comment on my posts really help me out as a content creator so thank you in advance if you take the time to do either!

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Din was observing you and Grogu from the entrance of the Razor Crest, arms crossed across his chest as he leaned against one of the walls of the ship. He smiles to himself when he hears the child giggling after you put a flower at the top of his little head, immediately reaching out with some difficulty to grab a flower from the ground and offering it to you.

"Thank you, Grogu. It's very pretty!" you say to the baby, who looked absolutely thrilled to realize you liked his gift. 

The kid stands from the ground, lifting both of his arms as a sign that he wants to be carried. Already familiar with the gesture, you quickly lift him up from the ground before laying on your back in the middle of the landscape filled with lilac and light pink flowers. The baby giggles again, holding onto you as you both lay there.

Din's smile fades just enough shortly after that when the inevitable thought pops in his head again. That annoying and sudden thought that always makes an appearance during the day. 

At first he didn't mind, finding ways to always push it away before it got to him. However, it's been more and more frequent these past couple of days and it's becoming a bad habit he seems unable to control at this point, and it's starting to really annoy him.

His mind is filled with all these doubts and insecurities. Not only because of the content of what he's thinking, but because it's completely impossible to push it away now. Almost like an avalanche, it falls down the mountain at a rapid, devastating speed and it only seems to get bigger as minutes pass. It destroys everything in its way. In this case, the prime and only victim is Din.

Perhaps the worst part is that it always ruins what should be pleasant moments. If Grogu is looking up at him from the ground begging to be carried, the thought is there. Whenever you wrap your arms around him or grab his hand when the two of you are exploring yet a new planet, it's there. Even when he's trying to sleep right next to you, hearing the faint sounds of the baby already asleep, you can bet that thought will be there to torture him.

Because all of those little moments he shares with his partner and son remind him of the fact that neither of them even know who he is. Sure, they know how he is, but not who.

Every touch is not really a touch, it's just skin brushing against a uniform. Every exchange has a helmet hiding his features. They can hear him laugh, but they don't see his eyes squinting just enough and the smile that adorns his face. They can hear him remind them of his never-ending love for them, but they don't get to look into his eyes as he says it.

And it hurts because his mind has tricked him to believe none of those moments are real. Because they've never seen the man that claims to care for them so much, none of it is genuine. It's just touching a uniform and hearing empty words coming from a helmet. It almost makes him feel like a droid rather than a human, leaving him longing for that real connection. 

He knows he probably shouldn't, but he craves that actual contact, which is something he never felt before you two showed up in his life. 

Being a Mandalorian and living by their code was easy. He never even considered breaking his vow because nothing and no one was ever worth it. What could possibly be more important than this? That's what he would always ask himself and he wasn't able to come up with an answer– until you and Grogu showed up.

Now that you two are here, it's obvious to him that his priorities have changed. He wants to commit to an entirely new code. To prove his undying fidelity to his family and make a vow to the two of you.

But that brings another set of insecurities that make this entire situation a lot more difficult for him. As much as he needs to truly feel connected to you, he's terrified of what that connection means. It's obvious that in order to obtain that, he needs to take off his uniform. Most precisely, his helmet– which is something he has never done in front of anyone. Ever.

So that's when his mind is yet again filled with negative thoughts. What if you don't like what's under the helmet? What if you already have a picture of him in your head and he disappoints you because he looks nothing like it? What if you suddenly don't love him anymore because he's not what you expected at all? And what if Grogu rejects him too? He couldn't deal with either of you not liking what has been hiding underneath all the Beskar.

That's the complicated mess that's been haunting him for a few weeks. That inner struggle he has tried to keep hidden from the two of you. Should the helmet stay on despite being an obstacle to reach the depths of connection he needs to have with his family, or should he remove it and risk rejection? Is it better to settle or search for more?

He feels pathetic. The supposedly fearless bounty hunter is terrified of even thinking about taking a risk. Going on adventures used to be a lifestyle. Now, the mere idea of it is enough to fill his mind with self-doubt, making it almost impossible for him to make a decision.

He thought about it later that day when the three of you were already inside the Razor Crest and getting ready to go to bed, really considering his options and trying to create different outcomes to this hypothetical conversation that kept playing inside his head.

You were telling Grogu a bedtime story when Din joined the two of you. He sat on the bed and listened to you speak as he watched the baby, who was struggling to keep his eyes open at that point, holding onto the little blanket covering his body. 

By the time the story was over, Grogu was already completely asleep. You carefully brushed his face with your pointer finger in an affectionate manner, smiling down at him before focusing on Din.

"Ready to go to bed?" you asked.

"You'll tell me a bedtime story too?"

The comment made you laugh. "I think you're a little old for bedtime stories."

"Ouch. I'm not old."

"I said a little old," you quickly correct, putting both of your hands on his shoulders. He quickly lifted a hand that was resting on your hip a few seconds later. "Not the same as just old."

You smile down at him as he gently caresses you from your hip all the way down your thigh before his gloved fingers trails back up. Your smile inevitably takes him to the dark corners of his mind again because he knows you won't be able to see him smiling back at you.

His next words came out very impulsively. "Can we talk?"

Evidently, you were a little concerned after hearing that given the tone he used. "Is there something wrong?"

"I've just been thinking a lot lately...there's something that's been bothering me and it won't leave my head."

"Okay..." you said, trying to be receptive to what he was saying but still having no idea of what's going on.

"Neither of you know what I look like," he decides to simply confess. Why would he try to over explain something that is actually quite easy to say? "And I've never...you know, actually touched you," he adds, his helmet titling towards his hand still resting on your hip, hinting at the glove covering it.

"I mean, yes...but that's because you're a Mandalorian. It's what your people do, right?"

Din nods after your words. "It's part of our code, but...I don't know. It's been bothering me because lately this entire uniform feels like an obstacle. I still feel like it's a part of me but...it also stands in between us."

"I've told you how I feel about the suit," you quickly say in a soft, reassuring voice. "I don't mind it one bit."

"I know, I know. This isn't because of something you did or said," Din explains. "I guess my priorities have changed."

"You mean...?"

"I mean, I care more about connecting with you than with my traditions. I've started to question things I never took a second to consider before you and Grogu showed up. I want to be able to touch you– really touch you. And I want to look at you and talk to you. Not through a visor and a modulator," he further explains, feeling like a weight is lifted off his shoulders. "I don't need to be a Mandalorian when I'm with you two. I just need to be Din."

"Oh, darling," you start affectionately, feeling so incredibly in love with the man sitting in front of you. "Whatever it is that you want and need, I'll support you no matter what. Helmet or no helmet, you're still the guy I fell in love with."

"Really?" he asks with evident worry.

"Of course," you immediately reassure him.

"I guess it took me too long to talk about this because...well, I didn't know if you'd like what's underneath the uniform."

"Din," you call in a very serious voice, hoping that'll hint just how much you mean your next words. "I love you so much. I love you because you're the kindest man I've ever met. You're loyal, passionate, brave...and you care so much about me and Grogu. I could stay here and mention a trillion things about you that make me fall in love with you every single day. You're the one I want to spend the rest of my life with and nothing in this world is ever going to change what I feel."

He was quiet for what felt like forever, simply staring up at you while you held the helmet in between your hands so you could stare directly at his visor where his eyes should be. 

"You can't see it but I'm smiling, by the way. This is a good silence," he offers, which immediately makes you laugh.

"Is it okay if I take it off and see that smile for myself?"

He hesitated before answering. "Are you sure you won't change your mind?"

"I promise I won't change my mind."

There was another pause before he finally answered. "Okay..."

You start to remove his helmet in a gentle, slow manner. If he wanted to stop you, he could at any second. You really didn't want to rush it because you still wanted to give him a chance to back down if he wanted to. 

The fact that he wears the helmet all day in front of you has never been an issue. You fell in love with the person he is, whatever he looks like couldn't possibly matter any less to you. That love is not going anywhere. Ever.

It looks like Din is confident in his decision because he doesn't stop you at any point. He continues to keep one of his hands attached to your hip and the other rests on his lap for a few seconds until he uses it to help you completely remove his helmet.

Still holding it with both of your hands, you look down to admire his face. You can tell by his expression that he's terrified as he stares back at you, impatient for any hint of rejection. He was still expecting to see the disappointment all across your features before you take a step back from him and reveal he's nothing like what you expected.

But that disappointment never appeared. Instead, he's relieved to see the smile forming on your face before you leave the helmet next to him on the bed, immediately reaching out to grab his face.

Din practically melts under your touch, closing his eyes and focusing on just how good it feels to have your skin touching him for the very first time. The way your soft fingers trace his cheeks before they move down to his jaw...it feels like absolute heaven.

And you take your time with that. Your digits explote his features as if contemplating them wasn't enough. You needed to touch every inch of his face in order to truly appreciate what's in front of you. 

The most beautiful sight ever. The man you love so much, looking even more handsome than you could've ever predicted. From his soft brown eyes to the hint of a beard, he's so perfect you can't believe you're seriously this lucky.

"So?" he dares to ask. Hearing his voice without the modulator for the very first time almost made you feel goosebumps all over your body. How is this man so pretty?

You could've just said that. You could've stood there and told him over and over how pretty he is, but it didn't feel like it was enough. No words would ever begin to explain the admiration you have for this man, even before you knew what he looked like.

After feeling his skin for the very first time, you could only crave more. It was probably that inefficiency of words and the need for more contact that made you lean down and kiss him for the very first time.

He kissed you back instantly, the grip on your hip tightening just enough as he completely gave in to you.

It was evident you were his first kiss, but that detail couldn't be any more insignificant right now. His lack of experience didn't bother you. All you could think about is how lucky and happy you are to have him as your partner.

The kiss lasted for a few more seconds before you pulled away, failing to hide your smile when you saw his face. It was evident he was already missing the way your lips feel against his. 

You stare at him again for a bit, caressing his flushed cheeks, before you finally decide to speak. "Does that answer your question?" Din was still too lost in his thoughts to reply out loud, so he simply nodded. His reaction after your first kiss made you giggle, and you swore right there that you've never felt happier in your life. "Good. I'd like to kiss you again if that's okay."

Another nod, this time looking more desperate, was all you needed to kiss him again. You got more comfortable as you sat on his lap, knowing you'll be there kissing him for a bit, feeling his arms wrap around your lower back to keep you close as soon as you sat down.

And as he holds you in his arms, he knows he made the right choice, silently vowing to be yours for as long as you allow him to.

[stardust-kenobi]

A Good Night's Rest

Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Summary: Din was your best friend, but you wanted him to be so much more. Turns out he feels the same way.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: SMUT, drinking, helmetless din, virgin!reader, SOFT MANDO <3

A/N: we will all collectively just pretend there’s a little guest room in the razorcrest, otherwise everyone’s fuckin on the cold floor ok and we cannot allow it.

“Dammit” You cursed at the dreaded transmitter that was probably older than you were.

Being a mechanic had its perks, but it truly had its challenges, too. Especially when you’d been assigned long-term work on a ship as old as the Razor Crest. Of course, a perk to that would be traveling with a Mandalorian. It was a rough couple of months getting him just to hold a conversation with you, but almost a year later, you'd never been more connected or closer to anyone else in your whole life. He was undoubtedly your best friend.

“Don’t worry about it. That thing has never worked right” Din said, startling you as he entered the cockpit. He was dismissive of the transmitter, which was all the more reason you wanted to fix it.

Sighing out in frustration, you accepted defeat. For now, anyways.

“I’ll get it figured out eventually” You assured him.

“If you say so" He chuckled softly.

"Are you doubting my capabilities?" You teased him.

"No, I am doubting the probability of that thing ever working again"

"That's fair" You smirked before looking back to your unfinished work.

"How are the engines looking? Are we good to go?" He asked.

"Yep. Everything else is looking good. Are we leaving tonight?"

"I'd like to get a good night's rest first. We can leave in the morning" He confirmed, leaning against the metal siding of the cockpit.

"Sounds good to me" You smiled back softly, subtly admiring his stance beside you.

"I'll probably go to bed soon" Din said, his sleeplessness showing itself in his voice.

A fun idea crept into your mind.

"Why waste such a perfect night to break this baby in?" You giggled as you pulled the bottle of liquor from the cabinet in the cockpit.

"How did you get that?" He said with a head tilt, questioning where and when you had the opportunity to acquire alcohol.

You raised your brows and shrugged your shoulders, "I stole it"

"Well, I assumed that" Din iterated, taking the bottle into his hand and observing the label, "but I am not surprised"

You watched as he looked around, as if trying to find some reason why he shouldn't indulge in some light drinking with his best friend tonight.

"I'll just be drinking all by myself, if you're not joining me" You raised your eyebrows at him.

"Fine” He gave in, sitting himself down in the pilot’s seat next to you in the copilot’s seat.

For a little while, you two indulged in the intoxicating effects of the liquor. You knew your limits and so did he. You stopped just before feeling your inhibitions slip away but felt fuzzy enough inside to enjoy the feeling.

Respectfully, you opted to look away whenever he took a sip, so as to not catch a glimpse of even his chin as he tipped the liquor into his mouth. His movements were slow as he set his glass down, and with your peripheral vision, you noted that he was done. With all the time you’d spent around him, you couldn’t actually imagine him actually having a face, he was just a helmet with a gentle voice. But you loved him.

Oh stars, you loved him…

The chances of him feeling the same were slim, but one more sip and you might just tell him.

As you stared at him, you were met with flashbacks of one particular night not too long ago. Din had accidentally walked in on you masturbating, and you didn’t notice he was there until a couple of seconds had passed. He couldn’t make himself look away from you in such a state, but the guilt of unintentionally invading your privacy ate at him every day since. Since that night, things had been a little bit awkward between you two

Not a single word was exchanged between you two, he just slowly walked out. You probably didn’t come out of your room for another day, and even now, you still hadn’t talked about it.

What he didn’t know it was him you were thinking about while you pleasured yourself.

“This stuff is…” You began, holding the bottle out and tilting your gaze at it.

“Strong?” Din finished your sentence.

“Very” you giggled in response.

Din stared at you for what felt like forever, the tension pulling tighter between your gazes. There was something so odd about the way his head pointed in your general direction just gave you butterflies. You wished so desperately to look into his eyes for real.

“I, um” He began, tripping on his own words before his thoughts were fully developed.

“What is it?” You tilted your head.

He paused, and looked at the ground, before turning back to you.

“I need to sleep” He sighed.

“Okay. It just seemed like you were going to say something?”

Please let him say that he loves you too.

“I don’t think I’ve drank enough to say it”

“Maybe I have” You pondered. It spilled off your tongue like honey, “I'm in love with you"

Okay where the fuck did that confidence come from?

He was still. More still than usual, if that were even possible. The thumping of your heart against the restraints of your chest rang terribly loud in your ears. If he’d said anything in the seconds that followed, you wouldn’t have even heard it. Any attempt to read his emotions was blocked by the shining reflection of his visor.

But he was silent, and you could only guess why…he didn’t feel the same way about you.

“I’m..” He tried to begin, but fell short of his words.

“Don’t” You began as mortification consumed you, “don’t say anything”

He remained stoic, and painfully quiet. Providing no goodbye or goodnight, you got up and made your way to your quarters on the Crest. Din didn’t stop you. He didn’t flinch, in fact, he barely breathed.

The frigid metal against your arms shot chills down your spine as you leaned against the door you had just closed behind you to your room.

The distant sounds of his footsteps carrying across the ship, led right to your door very shortly after you stormed off.

"Y/N" His soft, modulated voice rang the other side of the door, following a gentle knock.

What do you even say to him now that you've confessed something so bold to someone you're in such close proximity to all the time?

You slowly pulled the door open and were met with Din’s towering figure.

"I'm in love with you, too" He admitted quickly.

Now you found that it was you whose words were failing them. A choked breath hitched in your throat as you processed what he said.

"Y-you do?" You stuttered in disbelief.

"Yes. I did not know what to say before. I wasn't expecting you to say that" He said softly, his tone growing timid.

You stepped back and let him enter your crowded quarters, which truly was only enough space for your small bed and a cabinet. The forced proximity to him heightened the tension even further. You sat on the edge of your bed, and he mirrored you, finding only inches of space next to you.

"I want to kiss you" You blurted softly.

"I want to kiss you too, Y/N. I'm sorry I can't" He responded, cautiously placing his hand on your knee.

"I know what you can do" You suggested.

Your trembling fingers wrapped around the gloved material of his hand and guided it in between your legs. There was no resistance from either of you, but you sensed his nerves as well as your own.

The shifting of your hips told him you wanted him to move. He rubbed against your aching and sensitive bud through the rough of your pants. You wanted him bare against your skin, but you knew this needed to be slow.

Too shy to just let him watch the look of pleasure upon your face, you buried your head into his shoulder while he rubbed your clit. He groaned as you let a faint whimper escape you…a sound he’d only dreamed of hearing before.

"Are you sure?" He begged for reassurance.

"Are you?" You countered him.

“Yes” He assured with no hesitation, like he’d been waiting for you for years.

“I’ve never done this before” You muttered lowly, ashamed to admit it, but knowing it was necessary for him to be aware that you were a virgin.

“Ever?” He leaned back.

You shook your head in confirmation.

Din froze in his tracks, halting his rhythmic motions at your core. You worried he wouldn’t want to be your first. You worried it would be too much pressure for him to make it special for you.

He pulled away completely.

Something you’d never seen him do before caught your immediate attention. Slowly, his fingers curled underneath the bottom edge of his helmet and lifted it from his head. He didn’t hesitate for a second.

“Din what are y-”

You couldn’t even remember to breathe as his face came to view. His brown hair lay so perfectly pressed to his head, restricted for so long by the constraints of his mask. He wasn't a stranger. This wasn't unfamiliar. It was him.

And he was beautiful.

His creed meant nothing to him in that moment…the moment he finally was able to stare into your eyes for real. Nothing mattered to him except you. A lump grew quickly in your throat, and you welcomed it as a tear fell from your eye.

"You deserve for this to be special, Y/N. You deserve to look into the eyes of the man who loves you"

The rapid fire of your beating heart skipped over itself. His voice was smooth and raw...and scared. His entire life has been spent hiding away from everyone he has ever cared about behind that helmet. But now...he truly sees you.

"Din" You breathed.

The second that his lips brushed against yours, the world around you fell silent. Fingertips trailed along your jaw before moving to wrap themselves in your hair. Din was delicate and careful. He worried he'd break you if he didn't control his desire that had pent itself up for months of being near you.

You were tremendously overwhelmed with surprise and butterflies, which fueled your hunger for him as he found familiarity in your lips, and pressed harder into the kiss. His trembling hand returned in between your legs, applying pressure against your clit through your pants.

Din was no stranger to sex, but he was a stranger to your body, and a stranger to loving you in the way he was always aching to.

“I’m going to take care of you, Y/N” Din whispered against your lips.

He motioned for you to lie back, and guided you with his arm pressed gently into the curve of your back. You fiddled with the clasp of your pants, but his hand replaced your own and successfully unfastened it. You worked to remove them, but Din helped you peel them down your legs.

Nothing could have pulled your admirable gaze away from him. There were no words to describe how beautiful he was. Din hovered above you, staring right back in disbelief of having you beneath him like this. Your fingertips traced the line of his jaw, your palm finally resting against the scruff of his cheek. His eyes fell shut, being so touch-starved that he melted in your grasp.

Din knew that he wanted to stay like this forever, but he also knew how badly he needed to be inside you. As he stood to his feet and removed his armor, revealing the soft material beneath it that clung to his skin, your thighs clenched together in anticipation. With his continued help, he carefully lifted your shirt above your head, revealing you wore nothing beneath it. The guttural moan that grazed your ear when he saw your breasts sent a wave of heat between your legs.

His finger looped around the hem of your panties and awaited your confirmation before eagerly removing them.

You were nervous. Stars you were so nervous. Somehow you found comfort in studying his face, watching his reaction to seeing your exposed body on display for him.

Your lips intertwined again. The supple caress of his hand traveling up your thigh sent chills down your spine. It only took one light touch against your folds for him to feel how bad you wanted him. Suddenly you felt one finger slide inside of you.

He broke away from devouring your lips, “Is this okay?”

“Yes” You breathed.

What he did with his fingers felt beyond anything you’d ever done to yourself. He curled his finger as he pumped it in and out of you, savoring the sound of your slickness wrapped around his digits. You grinded against his hand, signaling him to move faster.

Din watched you, enamored with your expression and how you melted for him just by the touch of his hand. Stars began forming in your eyes as the haze of your orgasm crept up slowly. Din felt the walls of your cunt tightening slightly as he went faster.

“It feels so good, Din, please don’t stop”

And he didn’t stop. Stars, he’d do anything you asked of him. Especially now.

With the arching of your back, Din knew you’d reached your release. You cried out for him, digging your nails into the skin of his neck, shutting your eyes tight, overwhelmed with pure pleasure.

“Look at me, cyar’ika” He instructed. Your eyes flew up to stare deep into his beautiful brown eyes.

Your release overtook your entire body, sending a heated flash of vibration across your skin, tingling and centering at the thrusts of his fingers.

“There you go sweetheart, you’re doing so good” He praised.

You rode out your high as he talked you through it. Unable to fathom the total ecstasy you were feeling. Your breathing was heavy as you floated back down, and you then realized how tightly your hands were gripping his body. As you flashed him a smile, he softly smiled back, his eyes scanning your body and face.

As you reached for his pants, he hurriedly removed his shirt followed by his pants, now leaving him completely bare for you too. You stared at his cock, impressed by his size, and clenched your cunt around nothing as your body begged for him.

You spread your legs for him, as his hips situated themselves to fit perfectly between them.

“I’ll go as slow as you need me to” he assured you, “I don’t want to hurt you”. Just then, the tip of his cock pressed against your entrance, before he finally buried himself completely inside of you. A whimper of slight discomfort escaped you, and Din planted a soft kiss upon your open mouth to soothe you. You were so tightly wrapped around him that he almost lost it immediately. It was such a wonderful new feeling to experience being this close to Din.

Your body adjusted itself quicker than you anticipated to his size. He began to thrust slowly, still giving you time to relax. A lustful whimper fell from your lips, showing Din that you were experiencing pleasure rather than pain now. Once his thrusts found perfect and steady rhythm inside you, he began to moan softly with you. 

Your eyes meet and lock on each other while he continues to curl his hips passionately into yours.

“Does that feel good, Y/N?” He moaned and kissed your neck gently.

“Yes, Din” You managed to mumble through your new feeling of pleasure.

The sensation of him filling you was overwhelming, and your skin burned with such a wonderful fire. You were sure that you’d never get enough of his lips against yours.

“You are so beautiful, cyar’ika” He whispered, his hand traveling down between your breasts, familiarizing himself with the feeling of your skin against his. Taking one of your breasts into his hand, he squeezed it gently.

“Harder” You begged him. He looked at you with uncertainty, but wouldn’t dare deny you.

He began fucking you faster, now. As his cock brushed against your most sensitive spot inside you with every snap of his hips, your moans grew louder and more intense. Din loved every sound you made. He was quieter than you, but his whimpering was music to your ears.

“Y/N, I won’t last much longer” He faltered in his thrusts as he got close to his release.

You nodded and pulled his face into yours, kissing him hard. Your lips against his pushed him over the edge. His fist gripped the sheets as he came, his moans deeper and louder than before.

“Fuck, Y/N” He cried out.

The warmth of his release coated your walls, and you cherished the feeling of truly being filled by him. All of him.

The room was filled with only the sound of your beating hearts and the gradual rate of your breathing coming down to normal. Din was careful when he removed himself from you, and the second he did, you already missed feeling him so close. He lay next to you, your warm bodies still pressed close to each other. The silence between you spoke louder than any words you could manage to speak.

“Are you okay?” He asked while caressing your cheek.

You smiled warmly at him. There was a soreness you felt inside, but it was a sensation you welcomed if it meant that Din was the one to take your virginity.

“I’m more than okay” You assured him, “that was everything I ever hoped it would be”

“I love you, Y/N” He said sweetly, warming your soul as he said it.

“I love you, too”

———————

Taglist: @lokigirlszendaya

[flaccid-rats]

I want a star wars time travel fic but not like. A fix it ‘kill Palpatine and stop the fall of the Order’ fic. I want a time travel fic where Din Djarin, due to Force shenanigans caused by his gremlin son, keeps getting thrown into various points in time and no matter where he ends up or what time he’s in or how hard he tries to avoid it he ALWAYS ends up getting the Darksaber and subsequently has to try (and fail) to talk his way out of being Mand’alor

[svkahug]

once more to see you

[chapter three; ao3 link]

tags: slow burn, injury, forced proximity, quarry!reader, hurt/comfort

summary: On the run with the Empire on your heels, a bounty hunter seems to be your only option and your best bet to getting back home.

a/n: heard someone say tumblr has no fluff well i shall provide

---

Space is so… quiet . So empty. Sometimes there’s not another breathing creature for miles. Then you hit a planet. You’ve tallied all the planets you’ve been on recently as the Mandalorian goes on the search, relentless. Yavin, Geonosis, Lothal. Desolate and lifeless planets. But you never see them. The Mandalorian isn’t exactly a tour guide but he does talk to you more often as you strap yourself onto the co-pilot seat beside him. Him and the kid are gone for days at a time, no longer than a week. 

You eat, you sleep, you dream. You’ve snooped around every nook and cranny of the Razor Crest. It’s not as if he’s going to pop out of nowhere and chastise you. You can probably traverse this ship from memory alone. 

You find what you assume is his bed. But you don’t sleep in it. Not even on the days where he’s gone. It’s just as small and cramped as the ship and you simply can’t believe anyone even uses that thing. 

The worry that he might have perished out there crosses your mind. But you couldn’t let it get to you. He uses the ship's emergency comms to check in at night. Sometimes he doesn’t.  

You shuffle through the supplies, you use the fresher, you stare outside the windows of the cockpit then you sleep on the floor. Until on the nights that you don’t. You think it started when they left for Lothal. They were gone for four days and you barely slept a wink.

It was the nightmares, you think. Twisted and vile things that were a manifestation of your fears. 

You don’t like to think about it. When your ship crashed on Jakku. You lost people. Guardsmen that've been with you since childhood. People died violent deaths to protect you. 

The memories come in flashes, unwanted and painful. They chased you through that rocky and desolate planet. The Empire rained hell. You ought to be flattered seeing as how they would go through all this trouble for you. If not for the night terrors you had of being back in that rubble, of seeing people drop dead like flies, and smelling the stench of gasoline from their flamethrowers. 

You wake up, heaving and choking back sobs, the heat of the flame feeling too real and too close. On the good nights, you’re able to talk to the Mandalorian through the emergency comm on the console of the ship. 

You’re mulling around the cockpit, memorizing the console controls, wondering what each one does when a soft crackle gets your attention. You’re so used to the quiet that the soft sound causes you to perk up immediately. 

“Mando?”

“— Hello ?”

“Took you long enough.” 

“ How’s the ship?”

You look at the blinking communicator as if it’s done you some personal offense. “...I’m fine, thank you very much. Ship’s intact, at least. Old thing.”

“... And you?”

“Are you asking if I’m still intact? Because the answer is no. I’ve lost my mind. I think I can hear colors.”

“ Yeah, isolation will do that to you .”

“What about you? Any sign of her?”

“... No. I'm in a village. No one’s seen anyone matching her description. Fob’s no help either. ” 

“Oh.” It’s nearly been two weeks. Four planets and more parsecs than you can count. “A village?”

“ Yes. Almost a day’s trek from the ship, so I’ll be back there by tomorrow. ”

You hesitate. “Can you stay? Just for a bit?”

“ Have you been sleeping? ”

“Not really.” 

“...I can keep the line open for a bit. Try to rest. ”

—

Two weeks later.

Batuu was green. That was the first thing you noticed. As the ship geared closer to the surface you see that those are actually trees, densely packed together to form a jungle. 

The ramp lowers and you can’t help it, you stand on the mouth of the ship, admiring the life of the planet. They’re gigantic, with bark twice the usual size and vines hanging from their branches, unlike what you had back at home.

The Mandalorian falls into step beside you and you can already sense what he’s about to say so you beat him to it.

“I’m just going to look.” The crest is parked in a clearing in the middle of the forest, flattening the long grass. It smells like damp soil and you can hear birds cawing in the distance. Surprisingly, he doesn’t stop you as you slowly walk down the ramp, grateful for the fresh air. “It’s beautiful.”

“It’s ancient.” He counters, his boots crunching on the ground as he flanks you. “These trees have been here for a thousand years. They’re sacred.”

You turn to him. “Don’t you think I should—”

“ No .” He says firmly. 

“She’s trained. Been in military command for as long as I can remember. She can outsmart you and she can fight….She wouldn’t run if she saw me.”

“Believe me, I can handle it. If she’s even here. I’m not risking you for an intel that could be weeks old.” He says, wading through a field of long grass, the little kid hovering nearby. 

“You’re no use to me dead.”

You make a face, smiling sarcastically. “ Charmed .”

“You’re welcome.” He deadpans. “Now get back on the ship.” 

—

There’s a storm outside when the Mandalorian comes back two days later.  You’ve fallen asleep to the sound of the smattering of rain on the roof of the ship when there’s a loud clang outside and you shoot up almost immediately.  

Suddenly, the ramp creaks awake as it opens, letting the water in. The sound of the rain is deafening now and you’re barely up on your feet before the Mandalorian sprints inside the vessel, the child’s pram zooming shortly behind him. He makes his way up into the cockpit immediately, firing up the engine before you can even hear the ramp shut below. Another crash comes from outside, and what sounded like an animal growling and clawing on the ground. Panic rises inside you as you stumble into the cockpit. 

“ What is that —?”

“Strap in now . We’re leaving.”

You do as you're told. “Did you find her?”

“No.” The ship lifts off the ground, and there’s something clanging on the side of the ship now. 

“ Who is that? ” They found us, you think. They fucking found us. 

“Bandits.”

“Wh– Seriously ?“

You’re in hyperspace when you finally notice it. You couldn’t help the gasp that escapes you, “ Holyfuckingshit , Mando—”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” He says, voice a little more ragged than usual, as if he didn’t have a knife sticking out of his fucking back.

You shoot up from your seat. “Shit , what— what do we do ? Holy —fuck .” It all comes out in a tumble. He’s facing you now but you can still see the knife sticking out of him. It’s really fucking huge. Especially because it’s halfway stuck inside him.

“Wait, wait here.” You’re practically flying through the ship when you come back with the kit, ripping it open on the floor of the cockpit and rummaging through its contents. “Here, what do you need?”

“The cauterizer.” His voice sounds thinner, even through the modulator, and it only adds a layer of panic to your already worsening state. “Look for the cauterizer— That— Yeah that one. Good.” You hand it to him. “You’re doing good. Now, you’re going to take it out—”

“What? No way .” You step back.

“Listen–”

“I don’t know how to — ”

“Hey, hey, breathe .” He grasps both your hands in his. His gloves are damp, and you see the droplets of water on his armor, his chrome visor staring up at you. “Calm down. It’s going to be alright. As long as I don’t bleed out, it’s fine.” 

“You’re kidding me right? How is that fine ?”

“Trust me, I’ve had worse.”

Trust him? That’s literally something the two of you couldn’t get right for nearly a month now. Now he’s basically putting his life in your hands and asking you to— Fuck . “Fuck, fine. I—I’ll do it.”

“Okay, you’re going to take out the dagger. Then you’re going to cauterize the wound with this.” He flicks some sort of switch and it fucking zaps . He places it in your hands. “Are you ready? You’re going to have to be quick, alright?”

He makes quick work of his chestplate, the armor clanging on the ground just as you come back with the scissors, ripping violently through his undershirt. You don’t think, you just do it and to your horror and surprise, the blade comes out easier than you expected. He lets out a long and loud groan, doubling over and gripping the console just as the bloody weapon joins the rest of his armor on the ground. You place a hand on his back to steady him, his skin warm.

“Maker, I’m sorry.” You say sincerely, gripping the cauterizer in one hand and steadying him with the other. He barks out a shout just as the laser makes contact with his skin. “ Stars , I’m sorry. Sorry, sorry… I’msosorry .” Your apologies turn into a whisper under your breath like a mantra, staying laser focused on the task at hand as he makes pained, broken noises underneath you. His fisted hand comes down onto the edge of the console.

It’s done eventually. The process felt longer than it was and there’s a moment when all you can hear is his heavy breathing mingling with the peaceful hum of hyperspace. It’s a juxtaposition of sounds. You couldn’t possibly imagine the pain he’s in and all he’s got to show for it now is a fresh jagged scar on the back of his shoulder.

You want to sit, but before you can even move an inch, he beats you to it. Suddenly, he’s tipping forward, a little too much and you recognize the fact that he’s going limp. You move just in time to catch him, letting your entire body support his weight as his helmet digs into your stomach while you try to get him back up into the chair without hurting his freshly closed wound. You hear garbling coming from underneath the armor. 

“It’s okay,” you murmur, hands on his pauldrons to support him, smearing red all over the metal. “It—It’s okay, I have you.” Literally. You don’t see any other option on how to move an injured man twice your size without hurting him right now and you’re too tired to think of a solution. So, you let him rest like that; his head on your stomach. 

You take a deep breath, your dominant hand cramping and your limbs feeling like you just strapped weights on them. You’re also getting colder and colder as the water he brought in earlier mingles with your sweat. Your hands are bloody. He makes another pained sound, a gloved hand coming up to grip your hip. 

“You ok?” You whisper. 

“ Mhm .”

“...Th—That wasn’t them, right?”

“No, it wasn’t.” Relief washes over you and you hardly feel his thumb brush a circle on your hip. 

You stay like that for longer than a moment. At some point, he’s placed his elbow on his knees to relieve some of the weight on you, still keeping his hand on your waist to steady you as you whizz through hyperspace. 

You let out a sigh, trying to focus on anything but how uncomfortable you are. 

It dawns on you you’ve never been this close before and you’ve never touched him, let alone seen his skin. It’s the first time you see him underneath all that metal. 

Suddenly, to you, there’s a lot of him. Weeks of looking at him and seeing nothing but metal and now the large expanse of his back is exposed to the cool air where you cut through his shirt. He’s a little pale from the injury and you also think it’s something to do with not being exposed to the sun that much. Your fingers grip his bare shoulder as you push him up just enough to make sure he doesn’t slip. His skin is damp, and he vaguely smells of rain, and something earthy. He’s a man underneath that armor, you almost forgot.

You watch the steady rise and fall of his torso as his lungs expand, muscles contracting as he tries to take in more air, and you notice the moles on his back. Tiny and completely unnoticeable marks scattered on the expanse of skin unless you stare really hard. You wonder if he knows this. Without thinking, you drag a clean hand, from his pauldron, to the small spot on his back, tracing it. Then to the next, and next, careful of his bad shoulder. It seemed like something you should do naturally and with no hesitation. You’re completely out of it, then, gently running your fingers along his back in a trancelike state, like your action and him feeling anything were two completely separate things. You hear him release a breath underneath you but you don’t feel the shudder that runs up his spine. You don’t see him shut his eyes underneath the helmet, don’t notice him lean back into your touch. Mando tries not to feel the throbbing pain on his shoulder, instead he focuses on the feel of your hand against his skin. He wonders if you were doing it on purpose. Or if you were in shock.

“Are you okay?” comes his question. He sounds more full now. Like he’s back to his usual self.

“Yeah,” you breathe, hand stopping in the middle of his back like you just traced a map and finally settled on a location.

You feel a squeeze on your hip, his head resurfacing from where it rested on your stomach and you’re suddenly faced with the chrome visor of his helmet.

“I’m fine. The kid’s fine. It’s over.” He says, sensing your distress. You nod silently. You can see him, and your reflection on his helmet but you can’t really… see it. Everything feels so cloudy and far away. You don’t want to look at the blood staining your hands, on his back. 

After dropping out of hyperspace, you lock yourself in the fresher and don’t come out half an hour later.

—

You assumed he was passed out from where he sat on the floor of the hull, resting, when you got out of the fresher until he said something. “We’re going back to Nevarro.”

“What for?” you whisper, meticulously laying out a fresh set of blankets on the floor. You were trying not to think much about anything right now. The baby is asleep, the hull is dark and silent, save for your whispers.

“I’m meeting with my employer, and we need supplies.” He’s changed out of his damp clothes now, and didn’t bother with putting the beskar back on yet.

You frown, listening to his attempt to get up. “You’re going to work for him?”

“Yes. I’m not made of credits.” You could argue that, technically, he was. But you feel like that would have been borderline offensive. He finds himself expecting you to say something back, but you’re quiet. He at least expected you to fight him on this, like you usually do. 

“Hey.” Comes the modulated tone of his voice, sounding hesitant. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine.” You chuck your damp clothes in the corner, not meeting his eyes—or rather, the chrome visor now staring in your direction.

“I think you’re in shock.” He takes hold of your elbow as you make your way across the other end of the hull. “Talk to me.”

You stop in your tracks, feeling oddly vulnerable in your state. “...You just scared me.” You state plainly and just when the words leave your mouth that’s when you’re able to pinpoint what it is you’ve been feeling all alone. Fear. An image flashed through your mind—limp bodies on the ground, eyes wide open but so empty and lifeless. The memories rears its ugly head at you tonight, resurfacing faster than you can help it. 

“ Maker —” You breathe out a puff of air, pressing the palm of your hand to your eyes until you can see stars. “I—I don’t want to do that again. Please don’t—don’t make me do that again. I—I don’t know why I’m—I mean, shit, you were the one with th—the knife in your back.” 

The Mandalorian’s hand drifts down from your elbow to grip your hand in a gloved hand, his filtered voice surprisingly really soft. “I think you’re just tired…. It’s alright.”

A wet sob fights its way out of you. Stars, it’s pathetic. It’s so fucking embarrassing . 

You wipe away your tears angrily with your free hand, a lump forming in your throat as you try to stifle a sob. You just stand there, frustratingly wiping away your tears as they come, sobbing quietly into the palm of your hands. It’s all really caught up to you now. How much the past few weeks—hell, months —really fucked you up. He was right. You were tired. You wanted to go home. You wanted to grieve . 

You suspect he might just leave you there, tell you to at least get some rest before going back up the cockpit to maneuver the ship to Nevarro but he doesn’t. 

The hand that’s holding yours starts to tug you closer, hesitantly and you go willingly, still wiping tears until you’re close enough to wrap your arms around him and bury your face into his good shoulder, letting him soak up your fresh tears. He’s warm without the beskar, and you practically melt into him.

“You haven’t been sleeping?” You shook your head against the soft cloth of his black undershirt running down to cover his arms, now wrapping securely around you, albeit awkwardly like he really didn’t know what to do and was simply improvising. “...It’s okay.” He runs his hand across your back soothingly and you hum softly against his shoulder.

A part of you is surprised at the gentleness in which he handles you, something you only ever see him reserve for the kid, but you can’t bring yourself to pull away. While he never showed any ill intentions towards you, you could never really read him. This was a job. You were a job to him. And he never failed to treat you as such. The things he did, you always assumed, was to benefit him and the kid. Your protection was just a byproduct.  You had no qualms about it, but months on the run, weeks alone, and the uncertainty of it all was getting to you, you admit and you just needed… you needed someone that wasn’t hunting you down or trying to kill you. 

You stay like that until your sobs subside and you’re taking calming breaths against him, his hand lingering . It was nice. This was nice. You turn your face into the crook of his neck, where there’s a spot where a patch of skin is showing. You find yourself wondering what he looked like all of a sudden

Suddenly, a soft cry pierces the silence of the ship and you’re suddenly reminded about where you were.

Slowly, you part. “I’ll get him,” you say with a nod. 

That night, you fall into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

[din-miller]

Yaihadla

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Word count: 800+

Summary: Pregnancy is a wonderful, beautiful thing. Breast tenderness, not so much. It's a good thing you have a caring husband to take care of you

Warnings: fluff, pregnant reader, female reader, married couple, implications to sexy times, nonsexual nudity, title means pregnant in mando'a

You thought the worst part of being pregnant was the insecurity that came with the weight gain of growing another life inside you. It's not. Though you'd rather take that over this any day of the week. Din can chase away any insecurities you have but he can't chase away the tenderness of your breasts.

Though Din is nothing but persistent and would gladly try to kiss away the pain.

Normally you'd indulge him in his 'you can make anything better with a few kisses' method of fixing every problem, but right now the brushing of your nightshirt against your hardened nipples is making you want to scream bloody murder. You shift in the co-pilot's seat, leaning forward a tad so your shirt falls from your skin without causing a scene.

"Is something wrong?"

You glance up at your husband, meeting the back of his helmet. You blush at being caught. While you might be a good bounty hunter you can never sneak things past Din. You straighten up, toying with the hem of your shirt as you ask, "Would you mind if I take my shirt off?"

Your husband's grip on the Razor Crest's throttle slips at your words, making the ship jerk to the side. His head snaps your way and he chokes out; "I'm sorry?"

"My breasts are sore," You explain and slowly lift up the bottom of your shirt, giving him a clear view of your panties and a sliver of your rounded stomach. When all he does is stare in your direction, you repeat yourself, "Would you mind if I take my shirt off?"

"Would I mind…" Din trails off in disbelief, words stumbling over each other as he continues, "No, I-I have no, um, no complaints here. Whatever makes you feel comfortable, mesh'la."

You can't see his expression but you know his eyes are blown wide – half from shock, half from rapidly growing lust – and his mouth parted, tongue unconsciously wetting his lips.

"I think I'll forgo wearing a shirt to bed tonight too. The material is irritating my breasts." You sigh, shifting in discomfort again. You know your husband wouldn't mind in the slightest if you fully strip naked and strut around the ship.

If you weren't so sore you might have actually done so. Unfortunately all you can manage is the lamest strip tease in history as you awkwardly tug your shirt over your head, wincing when the fabric brushes over your nipples.

Din's chair is spinning towards you before you can even blink, his arms resting on his knees as he leans forward. You let a cocky grin slip across your features, throwing your shirt at his gawking helmet. He catches it and tosses it aside without any remorse. His helmet follows, then his shirt is next to add to the growing pile.

"Ner cyar’ika, your beauty is beyond words," He pushes himself from his chair, kneeling between your parted legs. One hand freely dances along the stretched skin of your belly, and the other paws at the side of your thigh, "The shape of you with my ad’ika brings me to my knees time and time again."

You have to clench your jaw because now is not the time for hormones to trigger tears. If you start crying now, having said to Din that you're sore, he'll start fretting over you.

His eyes drift from your face to lazily trace the curves of your swollen breasts. Transparent lust swallows his pupils and threatens to ignite a fire inside you.

You know this isn't going to go anywhere tonight. Even if your hormones change and you want to jump his bones until you're boneless and satisfied; you've already expressed your discomfort and Din's too much of a good man to give in to his own burning desires knowing it would end up with you in more pain.

Din's hand comes to lightly trail a path following his greedy eyes, avoiding touching your sensitive nipples as they drag across the skin of your breasts, "They've gotten bigger, ner kar'ta."

You glance down at them too, "Have they?"

He hums and gently cups both of them, "Mmm, heavier too. When you're not feeling sore I'm going to kiss the pain away. For now how about we turn in for the night? I'll even sleep up here if it's more comfortable for you."

"You know the baby doesn't like when you're not in bed with us," You gesture for him to help you up, "We don't sleep well unless you're holding us. Protecting us."

Din pulls you up and spins you around so your back is pressed against his chest. His left hand finds yours and brings them both to lay over your bump. His other hand trails up your thigh until it finds his favourite prize. He gives the elastic band of your panties a snap, mouth hot against the skin of your neck as he smirks, "These coming off too?"

[sushiwriterhere]

breathe you in

summary: "The only one of your senses that seems to be clear, that seems to be working, is touch. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, amplifying every brush of his fingertips to a thousand."  rating: explicit (18+ mdni) pairing: the mandalorian x f!reader word count: ~4.7k (oops) warnings: sex pollen (dub-con), mando is not affected but reader is, dom(ish)!mando, fingering, spanking, nipple play, no use of y/n. please heed the warnings. notes: this is dedicated to the lovely, the talented, the amazing @tremendum ily!! tysm for encouraging my mando addiction + hope you enjoy :,) this is my first time writing mando so pls pls tell me what you think! my other works are here tagging: @joelscruff @joels6string @pedgeitopascalreads @magpie-to-the-morning @softlyspector @dindjarindiaries @tulipsbymybed @ezrasbirdie @anchoeritic tagging ppl whose Pedro work I love!!! Lmk if you’d like to be added/removed :)

You know you should say something to Mando when you start feeling the tips of your fingers tingle and the edges of your vision go shock white. It must’ve been a plant that grazed you or one of the patches of sunlight you stepped through, swimming with dust and pollen.

Leave it to you to get high on accident with Mando protected by his helmet, stalking through the undergrowth just a few feet in front of you. You can’t help but notice how broad he is, just how deftly he moves through the forest and clears a path for you and the Child to make it back to the Crest. God, the Child. Is he okay?

You whip your head down to look at him, somehow feeling guilty at the thought that he too, might have inhaled something or gotten injured. It’s your unofficial job, making sure that he’s safe (that and making sure the Crest doesn’t fall apart). But he’s tucked away inside the floating cradle, its little doors shut with him likely sleeping away soundly on the inside.

So it’s just you.

Your head swims slightly, but you keep your eyes fixed on the Mandalorian in front of you, hoping whatever it is that’s happening to you will at least hold off until you get back to the ship.

The pathway back for you is cleared by Mando stalking through the undergrowth, disregarding just how loud the fallen branches snap under his weight. You shuffle along and try to maintain composure as you feel your body temperature spike, and sweat start to bead along your hairline.

A relatively peaceful walk through a cool forest like this one shouldn’t be making your breath come as quick as it does. It shouldn’t be making you tremble like a leaf in the wind, your stomach cramp.

Time slips away from you when you get back to the ship. You think you might’ve muttered something about needing to use the ‘fresher but you’re not sure. All you can feel is the cramping in your lower abdomen, the way the hair on the back of your neck is plastered to you with sweat, and the way your mouth is somehow simultaneously flooded with spit and dryer than the desert, all at the same time.

When you stumble into the ‘fresher, the stale air feels like a momentary reprieve from how warm you are. You can feel your pulse hammering in your throat, and you’re sure you look like a crazed animal. What sets you off balance most, however, is the intense and burning need you feel, centered between your legs and spreading to the very tips of your fingers.

You barely get the door closed before you’re shoving your pants and underwear halfway down your thighs and slamming one palm into the wall so you can bite into your bicep to try and stifle your moans.

But it doesn’t alleviate what you’re feeling. In fact, it just makes your mind fixate on the Mandalorian even more. His broad shoulders, the thickness of his fingers always covered by those gloves, his strong thighs and waist that you know would be behind all the power of him thrusting into you.

You let yourself indulge in that fantasy, easily slipping your fingers into yourself. Your wrist tweaks at the angle, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

That’s how he finds you, three fingers buried in your weeping cunt, standard issue pants just barely shoved down the middle of your thighs, palm braced against the wall. You hadn’t even turned the shower on.

He calls your name from outside the door, “Are you alright?”

You fight the keen high in your throat at the sound of his voice, the cramping worsening as if in response to the thought of him. Fighting the shake in your voice you try to respond, but instead let out a small wail.

“I’m coming in.” Mando’s voice is authoritative, clear in his intentions. He thinks you’re hurt.

“Mando, wait— ” But before you can finish your sentence, the door is opening.

You know how you look, sweat along your forehead and plastering your hair to your neck, arousal dripping down your wrist steadily, body trembling. Mando doesn’t move from where his body is halfway through the doorway slightly tilted forward, hand clutching the frame, gloves stretching against the tension of his grasp.

Before he can say anything, an explanation starts tumbling out of your mouth—as if you were the one to catch him three fingers deep in himself. “I think I inhaled something while we were out and I know you’re always telling me to be more careful, and I checked that the kid wasn’t harmed he’s okay, but Mando I don’t know what’s wrong with me—!”

You cut yourself off with a gasp and you can feel the tears streaming freely down your face, but the next words you don’t mean to say, “Mando, please help, please. I need—I want you.”

This isn’t how you wanted this to come to light. You wanted it to be something natural, the sort of thing you heard in stories of love truer than the galaxy itself. Sometimes, you thought it might be happening in the way he’d relaxed around you, indulged your pleas to leave the Crest and shop at a street market. Maybe it was your imagination, but you thought he might be staring at you as you dozed off in the co-pilot's chair, feeling his gaze as it watched you through your reflection on the windshield.

At your begging, he moves. Instead of pouncing on you or slamming the door shut, he quietly walks over to you, pulls your hand away from your pussy that hasn’t stopped absolutely drenching your thighs, and scoops you into his arms. You scramble to clutch at his chest, beskar making for a lousy grip against your soaked hand. You’re confused and overwhelmed but the pain subsides, ever so slightly.

Closing your eyes tightly to preemptively fight vertigo, you feel him moving through the body of the Crest til you reach his quarters. He rarely ever sleeps there, that you know. But now, he moves to open the door, the slight hiss as it opens and shuts signaling that you’re inside.

Inside the room is pitch black and the air is stale, but ice cold. Like when you entered the ‘fresher, it brings momentary relief against what feels like a thousand degree fever burning you up.

You can’t understand if he’s rejecting you, if he’s moving you here so he doesn’t have to witness this. You start to spiral slightly and try to cling to him as if that might change what’s about to happen.

As he lays you on the bed, you whimper and grasp at his shoulders, until his voice is the one that breaks the moment, “I’ll take care of you, mesh’la, I’m not going anywhere.”

You almost weep with relief as he begins undressing you, pulling your pants and underwear, both embarrassingly soaked, off you. He doesn’t take off your tunic, apparently going for efficiency. You keep your hands tangled in the sheets, afraid that if you touch him he might change his mind.

What you don’t realize in your haze as he spreads your legs and removes his gloves, is that he can see everything through his helmet. He can see the way that your tunic sticks to every curve of your breasts, your nipples hard and your chest heaving with arousal. He can see the way that your cunt glistens with slick, your clit swollen, your hole pulsing and clenching around nothing in desperate need.

Whatever you inhaled is clouding all of your senses. You can’t seem to get enough air into your lungs so your mouth hangs open, panting. All you can smell is Mando–that combination of polishing oil he applies to his armor, sweat, and something distinctly him that he always carries. There’s a buzzing in your ears that only breaks when he speaks or exhales loud enough for the modulator to catch it. You can’t see for shit, the room completely dark and beyond that, your eyes are shut tightly trying to regain some semblance of composure.

You jolt at the first graze of his fingers against your thighs, barely registering the fact that his bare skin is touching yours. His hands are strong and calloused, gripping you tightly and forcing your knees apart. Your hips buck weakly and a whimper escapes your lips.

The only one of your senses that seems to be clear, that seems to be working, is touch. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, amplifying every brush of his fingertips to a thousand. He moved his hands over your hips, your stomach, and back down to your pussy.

When he finally lets his fingers dip into your cunt, you try and jam your legs shut from how overwhelming it is. He shushes you gently and makes sure to prop you open with his knees and a firm hand on one of your thighs.

His pointer finger pushes through your curls, ghosts over your lips, barely dipping into you. He circles your clit, avoiding the bundle of nerves, seemingly focused on spreading your wetness over your cunt. As if that was necessary—you feel like you’ve been aroused for hours, potentially wet from your pussy down to your knees.

Your first orgasm is a weak, pathetic thing. You almost miss it when the tip of Mando’s finger just barely enters you, far thicker than one of your own. It hardly does anything to break the fog in your mind. In fact, it only serves to make your more aroused as you clench desperately down on his fingertip and thrash feebly in his hold.

A sharp exhale echoes loudly around the room, crackling and odd through his helmet. He lets his fingers pet your weeping cunt and in the dark he lifts and spreads his fingers to watch your cum hang sticky in between them.

“Mando,” Your chest is heaving from the effort of trying to gasp out a coherent thought, “Please, I need more.”

He shushes you again, and tells you sternly, “Be patient, sweet thing.”

But you can’t be patient. Your first orgasm has only intensified the cramping in your abdomen that’s begging to be soothed by his cock filling you.

When he finally pushes a finger into you, you wail and moan. He’s still holding you down so you can’t escape the way he crooks his finger inside of you, petting at your walls in a way that makes your mind spin more than it already is. Another finger and you can’t seem to figure out why you’re fighting him, your hands finally moving to grasp helplessly at his beskar-clad thighs as he twists his wrist and makes a come-hither motion with the fingers he has buried in you.

He works his fingers in and out of you at a relentless pace. At one point he seems to tire of the way you won’t stop thrashing in his hold despite him propping you open, and so he grabs both your wrists in his free hand, pinning them above your head and your body down with the line of his.

“Hold still,” He commands softly.

Maybe if you were more lucid you would have noticed the shift in his demeanor as he lets himself settle into taking your pleasure for his. It’s no less doting, no less sweet, but it has a biting edge not unlike the way a burst of sour fruit brings both the bite of acid and the satisfaction of something almost saccharine. Nevertheless, he seems to know what you need better than you do.

The weight of his body soothes the ache in you, allowing the haze to clear just slightly. At that, you force yourself to hold still, force yourself to simply take the way his fingers make you feel. His shoulders blanket yours easily, and his thighs are strong and powerful in between yours.

Your second orgasm is only marginally stronger than your first, still failing to break the spell of your intoxication. He can feel the way you spasm around his fingers, the way your wetness wets the wrist of his flight suit in a way that makes him pull out, lift his helmet just slightly, and press the digits into his mouth.

You hate the immediate emptiness you feel. You clench fruitlessly around nothing and try to breathe out a plea that’s almost crushed out of you by his weight. Your mind floats aimlessly as you try to focus on regaining your breath, two orgasms normally more than enough to satiate you when its your own hand, but not even close to enough in this moment.

His frustration is palpable as you continue to whine and beg, but he reminds himself that you’re so strung out on whatever is in your system that you can’t help it. You’ll get all you need in time.

“Mando, please,” You can’t seem to understand why he won’t heed your pleas, why he’s still holding out on you.

Except, he isn’t, not really. Especially when he makes quick work of flipping you into his lap and settling you against him as he’s propped up against the wall. Especially when he has you on your knees spread over his thighs, his cock hard against your back and your wrists still pinned together but this time behind your back.

“Patience,” He urges as he pulls his cock out of his flight suit with his free hand.

He coats himself in the combination of your arousal and his spit, the combination doing something deadly to how badly he wants you. You’re still half delirious, unsure of how this will end.

When he finally, finally, lets you sink onto his length, you think that might finally be what breaks the spell. You can feel just how heavy and thick he sits inside you as he slowly nudges you down. He seems to last forever, but also just long enough at the same time. The head nudges at some spot deeper inside you than you can ever manage to pet with your own fingers.

You can feel yourself clenching around him, trying to adjust to his girth. More than anything, you want him to move. You want him to fuck you so hard it steals your breath, so the pain and burning desire finally fades.

But he doesn’t move. He doesn’t move to prop his feet up on the mattress so he can thrust up into your tight heat. Instead he keeps your hands pinned between your back and his chest so both his hands are free to work up your top. You spasm around his cock and you’re sure you’re staining the crotch of his pants where he’s still wearing them.

“If you’re a good girl, if come like this, I’ll give it to you the way you want it, I’ll fuck you deep with my cock,” He almost croons. The helmet has always distorted what you imagine to be the true tenor of his voice, all lovely and smooth and chocolate rich.

You’re not sure what he means, “like this”, until his fingertips brush over your nipples, until his hands grasp your tits in a firm grip. You jerk in his hold involuntarily, but one of his forearms is already pressed against your ribs as if anticipating your inability to hold still the way he wants you to.

As he continues to play with your nipples, you almost want to tell him that you can’t, not like this. That you’ve tried before and it never got you there, that you just can’t. But the words escape you, and all you can do is try to breathe through the onslaught of sensations. Every exhale comes out a desperate, debased whine.

He pets over your nipples, twists them, even tweaks them in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. It borders on painful as he keeps you pinned to him, not letting you move even a centimeter away from the pads of his fingers. There’s no discernable pattern, as if he’s experimenting with what draws out the most whimpers, what makes you twitch most.

A particularly rough pinch draws a groan from you and one of his hands smooths down your stomach. The way he circles his fingers around where your hole is stretched open around the base of his cock is filthy. The way the tips of fingers prod at the edges of you around him, as if testing if there’s still room for something beyond the sheer girth of him makes your chest heave with the promise of more.

Finally, he touches your clit and rocks his hips up ever so slightly. You gasp wetly as your third orgasm washes through you. Your cunt squeezes him tighter than he ever thought possible and he has to steel himself against the feeling that tugs at his gut at the sound of you panting and the way you respond to the slight shifting of his hips with a weak attempt at riding him. Cumming on his cock brings you light relief, but to your dismay it still isn’t enough.

“You still with me?” Now his hands are petting your sides, and his hips are still.

You respond to a question he didn’t ask, “Need more, Mando,” You whimper.

When he lifts you off his cock, it takes the little lucidity you have not to wail in protest. He manhandles you face down, hips up in between his spread legs. He moves too, settling on his knees behind you, cock level with your cunt but he doesn’t press into you.

The position change allows you to relax a bit, but now you’re more empty, you think, than when you started. You start to whine, to protest, before he pushes into you again. Until you realize that he doesn’t keep going, his hips don’t meet yours. You try and wiggle backwards, take a mile where he gives you an inch, but the grip on your hips is firm.

Stuttering slightly, you try and beg for more, “I-I thought you said if I was good, you’d fuck me the way I want.”

He doesn’t budge, instead one of his hands comes between your legs to stroke your clit in a way that makes your thighs tremble.

“You were good,” He hums, “But give me just one more.”

You lurch forward on the bed when his free hand comes down on your ass with a crack. A broken moan leaves you and you realize you’re begging for him to do it again. He ignores you momentarily, choosing instead to smooth his hand over the heat of your skin where he just spanked you.

The sting of his palm on your other cheek stands in stark relief in comparison to the way he keeps drawing lazy circles around and over your clit.

Despite the way you can feel the way the haze, whatever the source, has begun to leave your system, it still clings to you. It amplifies the way his fingers feel on your clit just enough for you to cum again, squeezing the head of his cock. It’s a dizzying contrast, the way you’re split open on just the beginning of his length, the rest of you clenching on nothing.

He rocks you on him just barely, just enough to draw out your pleasure into the biting overstimulation that comes with four orgasms. Distantly it occurs to you he must be enjoying this somehow, the head of his cock just barely in you as your walls flutter in desperation and arousal, his hands holding your hips so hard you know you’ll bruise. The pain of his fingertips is almost soothing.

You beg for mercy as best you can–beg for him to fuck you properly, you promise anything you think might get him to fill you again: cumming on his cock as many times as he wants; swallowing him down til you can’t breathe and tears streak your face.

“You said–,” You hiccup through what you realize are light sobs of neediness, “You said you would f-fuck me if I gave you one more.”

Instead of replying, he pulls out and lays you on your back. Then, he hitches your thighs up and presses you in half with your ankles at your shoulders. His cock slides wet and hot against your cunt, still soaking from all your previous orgasms mixed with the copious amounts of precum that have leaked from him. He kneads at your ass and thighs like a lothcat with one hand while again holding your wrists above your head with the other.

When he finally slides into you, it knocks all the remaining breath out of your lungs. You don’t fight his hold any more, all your strength sapped and simply willing to take what he gives you. Your head lolls to the side, mouthing at what skin you can reach where he’s pushed his flight suit up over his elbows.

When he finally fucks you, it’s unhurried but each stroke is deep and powerful. You can hear the way his grunts come through the modulator of his helmet and distantly, just barely, it registers in your fucked out mind that he’s muttering absolute filth to you.

“The sweetest cunt I’ve ever had, ever tasted. Maker I can’t believe this is what it took for you to let me take care of you, sweet thing. Always talking back, always trying to prove you know what’s best, even when I’m making you cum. Not so loud-mouthed now, are you?”

The words make your head spin and you can’t decide if you want him to stop since they’re driving you quickly over the edge again or if you want him to keep going, to keep confessing his deep seated desires to you. He makes the decision for you as he lifts the lip of his helmet over his mouth.

“Want you to hear my voice when I tell you how badly I’ve wanted to have you like this. How badly I’ve wanted to have you in my bed. I can hear you through the walls you know, touching yourself and moaning my name, even when you think you’re being quiet. You dirty little thing, you’re so good to me.”

Your fifth orgasm feels like a supernova as he continues to fuck you deeply. It starts in your pussy and spreads to the tips of your fingers, leaving you gasping for air and crying out his name in repeat.

“There you go,” He says, “Cum on my cock like a good girl. You’re doing so well. Maker, you’re so fucking tight.”

That orgasm isn’t what breaks the fog in your mind. It’s him.

You can feel how close he’s getting and you decide, preemptively, to beg again, “Come inside me, please, Mando, please, I need it.”

He groans brokenly as he finishes inside you and the warmth of his come finally clears your mind. You clench rhythmically around him, hoping to milk him for everything he’ll give you. The motion of his hips doesn’t stop, the coarse hair at the base of his cock grinding against your clit sending skittering sparks throughout your body.

When his hips finally stop rocking against yours, it’s finally quiet in the room again. Your body finally feels like it’s your own again, and you can sense the ache in your hips from the way he’s got you pressed in half, the light sting on your ass from where his hands came down hard.

Lifting himself from you with a groan, you hate the way you feel empty, like something is missing, when his softening cock slips from you. You briefly consider begging him to stay with you like that, but your mind whispers, another time.

Instead, you let him stand and shuffle about in the darkness, clearly tucking himself back into his pants. He shucks off your tunic; it makes a heavy sound as it hits the ground somewhere next to the bed. You let him lift your limp, exhausted but finally satiated body, and carry you back to the ‘fresher. You never turned the light off.

Mando turns a small jet of water on and washes you with steady hands between your legs, soapy hands running over your breasts, your shoulders, and your thighs. You try to say thank you, try to ask him if this will change things, but you’re too exhausted to form words. He shines under the artificial lights.

He wraps you in a towel and places you gently into his cot that barely has room for two. It’s then that you realize that since this ordeal started, since he picked you up like you weighed nothing more than a single ration pack, that he hasn’t stopped touching you.

Not when he had his way with you, not when you begged for more, not when he coaxed one more orgasm from you. He kept some part of him in contact with your skin so you knew he was there the entire time. His hands never left you in the ‘fresher as you did your best not to shake like a leaf.

You protest weakly as he goes to leave and the lack of physical contact registers in your exhausted mind. It’s the first thing that’s come to you clearly since you inhaled that substance in the forest.

He strokes your hair and gently murmurs, “Let me change. I’ll be quick, I promise.”

You want him to stay, to abandon fresh clothes and stay there with you. But you don’t have the ability to voice it. Instead, you let yourself sink into the cot and breathe in the scent of him in the sheets and in the pillow next to your head.

He returns within a few moments, helmet still on but this time stripped of his body armor and apparently in a new flight suit. When he shuffles you over to make room for himself, you exhale deeply in relief.

Next to you, he’s heavy and warm. He pulls you impossibly close to him, your head tucked into his chest and your legs tangled together.

He speaks first, “Are you alright?”

Part of you wants to pretend to already be asleep, but you’re sure if you don’t confront this now, you’ll never do it.

“I think so.” A beat passes. “I’m sorry.”

With his hand ever so gently under your chin, he tilts your head up so you’re making eye contact with the helmet. Even though you can’t see his eyes you’re sure you’re staring into them. You wonder what color they are.

“No reason to be sorry, you needed my help. I wasn’t too rough, was I?” You think he sounds unsure of himself, that maybe he thinks he got too caught in the moment.

You stroke your fingers across the helmet where you imagine his cheekbone might be, “No. It was exactly what I needed. I’m just sorry that you had to find me and feel responsible, I never wanted—“

He stops you by pulling you into his chest, muffling the rest of the sentence. You think you hear the hiss of his helmet release but you’re not sure till you feel his lips on the crown of your head. You hold your breath.

With his lips pressed into your hair, he murmurs softly, “You have never made me take on a burden I didn’t ask or want to take on. You take care of the Crest, of the Child, you have to let me do the same for you.”

The helmet hisses shut again when he tilts your head up to face him. One un-gloved finger strokes over your facial features, so gentle and tender in comparison to the way you know he’s capable of violence. You’re silent and you let your eyes slide shut, the exhaustion overtaking you.

And that’s how you fall asleep: in the arms of the Mandalorian, content and with a glimmer of something new to come tomorrow.

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Fluffy Din Djarin blurb?

Maybe he's trying to convince her to let him go on a run into town to grab supplies but she's not having any of it, worrying about him and practically clinging to him?

uh DUH THIS IS SO CUTE.

"I'll only be gone for a little while. You and the kid can stay here and- oomph." My cheek hits Din's chest and he laughs, arms briefly out to the side as he looks down at me, head tilted inquisitively. "What's wrong?"

"I just got you back." I mutter against the beskar plates with a sigh, eyes shutting as tightly possible, trapping the tears behind them while his hand reaches up to cradle the back of my head.

"What do you mean?" He asks, gruff voice making my stomach flip and I smile a bittersweet grin, feeling like he's already so far away.

"You just got back from getting a bounty. You've barely been back for ten hours." I look up at him with a huff, chin resting on the chest plate of his armor and he sighs, modulated breath sounding through the machine but I can feel his breath from under his mask. How I so desperately wish I could lift it up and see his face.

"I like to be busy." He shrugs as if it's the simplest thing on earth but it just makes my brows furrow deeper as my arms trap him to me, hands tightly secured behind his back.

"Be busy with me." I plead, feeling a gloved hand on my cheek as I allow my eyes to flutter shut, a smile taking over the previous pout on my lips and he laughs heartily. "That's not what I mean." I mutter, sensing the fact that it sounded like an innuendo and, though unintended, it's still funny.

"Are you trying to tell me that you miss me?" He asks and I giggle, nodding my head as he traps my face in his hands, resting his forehead against mine.

"I miss you, Din." I coo, setting my hands on his chest so I can almost feel his heartbeat beneath my hands.

"Then I'll stay." He gives in, shoulders relaxing a bit as Grogu coos beside us, both of our heads tilting down to look at him with happy grins. I guess we're having a family day in.

[gone-to-fight-the-fairies]

Allure

Summary: Din sees where all of his missing shirts have gone.  Paring: Din Djarin x jedi!Reader Warnings: minor violence, sex heavily implied, longing & lust. Word count: 850 A/n: This has occupied my mind for months and I’m very happy to finally share it with all of you!

Din has to turn his helmet away and focus solely on the intruder.

He can handle a tracker, another bounty hunter after the child. A crook too sloppy for the guild to ever consider. One who didn’t consider the clank of the Crest ramp lowering in the dead of night. One who didn’t do their homework and didn’t know that there was a Jedi onboard. Din could watch him squeal and choke under your hold. His legs dangling inches off the ground, kicking and scratching the walls, trying to get a grip on a force beyond him. Din wouldn’t even mind if you killed him. Anyone who dared to lay a hand on the kid was dead in his eyes. But what Din can’t handle the sheer sight of you at this ungodly hour.

An oversized shirt, Din’s flightsuit shirt, drapes over your frame. The shoulders is too wide and the fabric slings to the left exposing your own shoulder. The fabric is scrunched from sleep and lands dangerously high on the thigh.  

And maker, that could’ve ended Din right there. 

You’d been asleep in his bunk. A room where custody rotated around the clock. Where you slept at night while Din flew the Razor Crest and he slept mornings into the afternoon on sheets scented with you. Where he’d imagined sleeping beside you on more than one occasion. And usually more than sleep entertained his mind.

Din’s heart thumps against his chest and can’t focus on the intruder. He watches you wield the force. When you lift an arm the bottom hem lifts just enough to see a thin, tight line of fabric just beneath. He has to tear, rip his eyes, like a lion from its meal, away from the sight. But Din’s claws dig into the memory, and even when his eyes land elsewhere they’re clouded from the thought.

Din imagines that this is how you always looked in his bed while he was only feet away in the cockpit. In his shirt. He only has a few and knew a couple were missing, but if he’d known this is where they’d gone he would’ve given them all. 

Giving into temptation, Din disappears into his own fantasies. He imagines you curled up on his cot, your breast making mounds in the fabric as the rest curves around your frame. He pictures himself climbing into bed, the small cot too small for the both of you so he settles on top of you, exploring your soft skin, tugging that pesky piece of underwear, leaving you solely in his shirt. Bunching up the material, gripping it in the palm of his hand as his flesh met yours-

Din shouldn’t imagine you like that. Grogu’s teacher, a Jedi. 

Well- someone strong with the force. You didn’t like the term Jedi. But when the occasion rose, you had the intruder flush against the ship’s walls, tightening your grip around his throat. A very un-Jedi-like thing to do. But Din didn’t mind.

You would do anything to protect Grogu. Your commitment drew Din in, and your personality sealed his fate. And now your physical… attributions made Din’s armor grow tight. And he hoped, prayed that you were too occupied to notice.

This was not the time. He should be helping, instead of standing there like a womp rat. But you had the problem handled before Din’s boots left the ladder. 

The ramp lowers and Din anchors himself back into reality. The bounty hunter drops to the floor with a clank sure to wake the child.

“What are you doing?” Din asks, but his eyes remain on the hunter. 

“Go.” You ignore Din, directing the impromptu order towards the bounty hunter. “And tell everyone that the child is not only under the protection of the Mandalorians, but also the Jedi.”

It takes a second or two. The man's eyes dart between the night sky and you before sprinting into the forest and disappearing into the night. 

Din no longer has an excuse, he has to look at you. And you were just as breathtaking as you were moments before. Maybe more. “Why did you do that?”

“I really didn’t feel like disposing of a body right now, and I think you have other things on your mind.”

Din’s jaw slacks. Though his face is hidden he feels as though you can see right through the beskar. 

“I can sense what you feel, you can’t pretend that I don’t,” you stalk towards Din. The dark look in your eyes make Din feel like prey. “It’s the same way that I can sense when you think about me in the cockpit all alone at night. ”

“I shouldn’t, I’m sorr-”

“You think I wore this,” you pinch the shoulder of the sleeve. “by mistake?”

Din blinks. He feels like an idiot. 

Your eyes shift for a moment before Din sees something mischievous in them. “Grogu is still asleep. You can show me what you were thinking about, if you like.”

Maker, you would be the end of him.

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Don't mind me, just admiring the complete story of Din and his cam girl.

Fifteen Masterlist

Din Djarin x Cam Girl Reader AU

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: Being a cam girl isn't as exciting as people think it is, that is until you fall in love with your favorite customer. Warnings: Smut, voyeurism, sex work, Din reveals his face, Din is bad at feelings, Din's a virgin, premature ejaculation, mutual masturbation, face sitting, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex. Chapters will have individual warnings.

Chapter 1 - Fifteen Minutes Chapter 2 - Fifteen Weeks Chapter 3 - Fifteen Months

[moralesispunk]

Claraste (Din Djarin x Female Witch! Reader)

Previous chapter / Fic Masterlist

Summary: Din stays at the farm for longer than ever before, giving the both of them time to think about what life could be like if he stayed

Warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, talk of contraceptive tea, feelings, this is third person but there are no descriptions of the witch other than using she/her pronouns so I have labelled as reader insert in the hope it can come across that way (although please tell me kindly if not and I will update to x oc), canon typical violence

Word Count: 4.3k

Din had stayed for longer than ever before. Two whole weeks where the walls they had thrown up between them began to crack and splinter until they could finally dream of a life he could - would - build here. 

The morning after the first night had been the only sense of reality they gave into, a contraceptive tea slipping past her lips as she leaned against the uneven wooden rail around the cottage porch while watching on as Din got to work weeding around the edge of her flower patch. One day was all that was said as the tea steeped in the delicate mug and Din nodded, his hand sweeping from her hip only covered in a thin slip dress to her low belly as he kissed her cheek.

Kissed.

Her fingers ghosted over her lips that still felt bruised in the bright light of day from how they had kissed the night before, like it was the first and last time they would ever get the chance to give in to the temptation. Until now, Din’s helmet had been the last barrier they had kept up between them and now that it was gone…

The sun caught his dark head of hair as he stood up from kneeling by the flower patch and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand as he turned to look back at her, his face still mostly covered by the frown she had heard in his voice for years but his eyes holding a softness she had yearned for.

Din had never said out loud that he had also let himself dream of a quieter, steadier life and for as long as she had known him - from the second time he had visited her here - she knew that he was keeping it locked up inside his chest for protection. At first it was a fools dream - a Mandalorian thinking he could ever be the kind of man who would live the life of a dutiful husband and father on a quiet stretch of land on some forgotten planet and a witch thinking that there was anything other than a lonesome life where she was but a page in the novels of others, healing them or feeding them before they went onto their adventures, written in the stars - but now… Now ten years had gone by where he would return at least twice a rotation of Terra and he would slip into her life like he had never left, telling her stories of the planets he had seen and the people he had met, but they were growing tired and she felt it in her bones.

She loved Din more than she had loved anyone, but with that love came the yearning for a full life. The yearning for a husband to wake up to every day who would kiss her bare shoulder as she woke up like Din had done this morning. Who would help her on the farm. Who would listen to the made up adventures she had in her mind and would make promises of showing her even an inch more of the galaxy than she had ever seen. Who would hold her, cherish her, let her love him, perhaps one day raise children who knew what love was like, just as she had as a child when she watched her own parents.

She knew they would have to give themselves more than they ever had before - whether by finally giving in to how their hearts and souls had twined round one another over the years or to let go, let each other move on.

What was between them was a love like that created between Astra and Terra. Terra had watched the bright star - Claraste - every night like the rest of the stars until one night it came hurtling towards her and chipped Terra right out of her arms. 

She had watched Din like any other traveller on his first visit, cautiously and with interest, and then every time after that until… until they were more. 

Even if it made it harder in the end, she told herself that she would enjoy what she could for now. That she would ask him before he left, and not a second sooner, and it was easy enough when he dropped whatever tools were in his hand and she left the mug abandoned by her side as he stalked across the farm towards her, his knees bending and his arm wrapping around the backs of her thighs as his mouth crashed to hers and he carried her inside.

*****

Two weeks, longer than ever before, and the pain in her chest ached harder than usual as he finished tying up his bag and turned to her.

His helmet was still off, perched on the middle of the table and waiting to be slipped on the second he was ready to go, and she found her eyes racing across his face to commit every last bit to memory. The dark brown of his eyes and the tiny glimmer of gold around the edge. The bump in the ridge of his nose and the scar that ran across it. The pout of his bottom lip. The lines of a hard life that edged his eyes.

“I’m going to visit the child,” he said, his hand flexing and releasing by his side.

“Tell him I said hello,” she replied, her voice hollower than he had ever heard it before and he found his legs carrying him across the room before his mind had even caught up, his hands holding the sides of her face.

“Something is wrong.” There was no question in his words and it only made her chest ache more from how well he knew her. 

Her hands raised to cover his and slipped them from her face to where she instead held them between their bodies.

“Yes and no.” His brows pinched together and she sighed. “I’ve always accepted this life for what it is, Din. I was never angry that my parents had been murdered, never sought revenge for their lives that were stolen away and mine that was displaced. I’m glad I didn’t, I don’t think I have it in me to be vengeful, but… I can’t sit by and let my life go by without doing something.

“I love you, Din,” she said, and the way he reacted to hearing those words for the first time - his mouth falling open and his shoulders softening - lodged under her ribs and right by her heart as she continued to talk. “No matter what we decide, I will always love you, but I need…” She trailed off with a sigh. 

“More,” Din finished for her and she nodded.

“I know I can’t ask you to promise me anything here and now but… when you come back I need you to have an answer for me, Din. It’s the only thing I’ve ever asked you.”

His thumb brushed across her knuckles, dark eyes flicking back and forth between hers as he swallowed heavily and nodded. “I swear it.”

It wasn't a yes - or a no - but the unease was forgotten when his mouth crashed against hers, her wrists tangling behind his neck and his hands squeezing and roaming her body. His palms weighed heavy on the bottom of her back and back of her neck as he walked them towards the kitchen table and his tongue pressed into her mouth.

When her back met the edge of the table he pulled away long enough to lift her dress up and over her head, his mouth kissing down her neck and shoulder as he lifted her onto the steady oak surface and with a palm in the centre of her chest he laid her down against it and remained towering over her. 

It took everything in him not to rip his clothes from his body and fill her now, instead taking his layers off slowly as he kissed and touched every inch of her beautiful body beneath him, marvelling in how her eyes tracked each movement with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth until her entire body was covered in goosebumps and she wrapped her hand around his cock, tugging it once in a way that wasn’t painful but made him hiss - and her smirk - nonetheless. 

His palm wrapped around hers, holding her still as he raised an eyebrow down at her and he had to stop his knees from buckling as he watched the shiver wreck through her body - her chest heaving in need and anticipation as he gathered her wrists in his hand and held them against the table above her head. 

“I have the chance to taste you once more before I leave,” he said as he bent to kneel before her spread legs, his forefinger and thumb spreading her open and his warm breath fanning her when he spoke again. “I won't be leaving till I take that chance.”

His shoulders kept her thighs open for him, the scruff around his jaw tickling her soft skin as he licked slowly up until his lips wrapped around her clit and he sucked. He did this again and again, her thighs tensing and releasing over his shoulders. 

When her head rolled to the side and her back arched from the table, she caught sight of Din’s reflection in the mirror peeking out from behind a chair, his strong profile kneeling between her legs and his hand-

She let out a low moan, her hips urging him closer against her as she rocked in time with his hand that stroked his cock. The sight of him on his knees before her, pleasuring himself while bringing her pleasure, was enough to thrust her over the edge and she came with a choked gasp as her thighs pressed to the side of his head and he guided her through each wave until the heel of her palm tapped his forehead. 

He stood with a low growl, like it took everything in him to pull away from her, and when his body draped over hers to meet her mouth in a kiss she caught sight of his chin and bottom lip that was shining with her before she could taste it on her tongue. 

With his hand planted by her head and the other palming her hip, she reached between their bodies and lined him up as he rocked his hips once and slid inside her fully. They groaned together, their kiss not ending until she took his face in her hands and pulled back enough to look into his eyes before looking down to where their bodies met as he continued to thrust into her. 

“More, Din. I need more-”

In an instant he had slipped from her, lifting her body off of the table and settling her on the floor where she stood on her toes and bent over the table as he slipped inside her once more. 

With his hands gripping her hips and her body bent over the table, she felt him spearing his cock inside her so deeply that she couldn't barely gasp a breath. Her nails raked down the wood and she pushed her hips back to meet him thrust for thrust, her mind completely empty of any worries about her past or their future until all she could feel was Din, Din, Din…

She hasn't even realised she had been chanting his name like some prayer to lost Gods until his chest was pressed to her back and his lips brushed the shell of her ear. 

“I’m here, I’m right here.” 

His thrusts slowed and instead he moved slow and deep, his fingers slipping over where they met and deftly circling her clit as his mouth slanted over hers the second she turned her head to meet him in a kiss. 

She never wanted it to end, and from the way Din had built them up before letting them fall back until they were both slick with sweat she knew he was thinking the same. He did it again and again until the coil was wound so tight that she was certain there was no stopping her from falling over the edge and so she did, her moans high pitched and swallowed by Din’s ferocious kiss as he fell over the edge with her. 

She was so consumed by wave after wave, crash after crash of pleasure that she could barely feel the table that was digging into her hips until bruises would no doubt be forming. 

They kissed until he softened inside her and slipped out, his mess slipping down the inside of her thighs as their kissing slowed until only his forehead was resting against hers and his breath was fanning her chin. 

Her eyes fluttered closed as he kissed down her back, reaching for a cloth and cleaning her gently and taking the moment of peace to let his eyes roam her face once more. It was the same face he had seen for the first time those ten years ago, a few more lines by the side of her eyes and a few grey hairs - ones he had counted under the moonlight the night before when she had thrown her hand up and proclaimed she had at least a dozen, much to his amusement. 

They said few words as they passed each other the clothes that had been stripped before and his cheeks were still flushed pink as he lifted the helmet from the table, her chest still slick with sweat that made him want to lick across the skin visible from where her dress was still untied. 

“Din, I-” She stopped as soon as his eyes met his, her bottom lip pulling between her teeth and she jerked her chin in a nod - holding something back like she had already said too much to say even more. “Tell the kid I said hello.”

He nodded, his helmet slipping over his head with practised ease before he lifted his hand and held her cheek, his thumb stroking across the round fullness. “I will. And I will return, I swear it.”

Still no yes or no, no answer for their future that lay in the balance, but it was enough for now as he picked up his bag and began the walk back across the farm. He didn't look back until he reached the edge, finding her still at the top of the steps with her arms wrapped around her waist and her chin lifting in a wordless goodbye as he did the same for now. 

****

It had been three months since Din left, not long by any stretch when compared to some of the breaks between his visit before, but ever since his shadow had disappeared through the thick trees surrounding her land she had found herself searching for him on the horizon every morning and night. 

This morning was no different, yet as she opened her door and looked out to the tree line she felt an unease she had never felt on the sanctuary of her farm before. Her palms grew sweaty and the back of her neck prickled in awareness but at what she couldn't tell. She found herself spending the day collecting essentials from around her home - a few trinkets that caught her eye and pulled at her heart too - and had even packed them into a bag no matter how stupid she felt. 

It’s nothing, she told herself again and again and yet still she climbed onto her hands and knees and found a bag that had been tucked beneath her bed, packing it to the brim until the sun began to set. 

If for nothing else, the long walk she took to the stream after the bag had been tied up and tucked by her door was more of a distraction than a necessity since the well by her house had been filled by rain the week before. She had gone slower than usual too, finding plants and mushrooms she had pocketed with the intention to dry out when she got home, but when she made it to the edge of her farm and stopped the tune she had been humming she heard the heavy sets of footsteps rushing behind her.

Not taking a second to think, she dropped the bucket full of water to the ground and ran. 

Her feet hit the freshly farmed land harder and faster than ever before, faster than when she was a child and ran through the bare, damp land of her home planet alongside the only friend she can remember - Beron, a freckled faced boy with bright red hair who would make her laugh as he chased her through the thin lifeless forest pretending to be whatever monster their parents had told them stories of the night before. 

But she didn't feel like laughing now. It was only fear that raged through her veins as she bounded up the steps of her cottage and fled inside before slamming the door behind her. She could barely hear the men’s laughter over the blood pounding in her ears and she let her body slide down the door, crawling to the edge of her bed where Din had made her hide a blaster years ago. 

He had practised with her a few times over the years, finding old trees to use as aim, but he had refused to leave her without her having some sort of protection against any raiders who could stumble across her farm. She had argued against it at the time but had never been more glad for the cool metal that her hand curved around as she pulled it from between the mattress and wall and crawled back to the window. 

“Come out little witch,” a rough voice called out to her and a few of the other men laughed, horrible laughter that made her eyes prick with tears. 

She held the cool metal against her chest, squeezing her eyes shut as her whole body shook and she silently called out into the galaxy for Din, the name of the only person she wanted - needed - and his name roared in her mind like she could call to him wherever he was. 

****

Every time Din approached Terra, the same wave of calmness washed over him. His shoulders inched down from his ears, his brow unfurrowed, his mind stopped racing. It's like the kid knew where they were going too despite only being here twice betore; his small hands pressed against the glass and his breath fogging it up as Din began the descent over the trees. 

The kid cooed and Din huffed a laugh. 

“Yeah. She missed you, too.”

He landed his ship - one a lot smaller than the Crest that had cleared a wide circle of land for his arrival every time - flicking off every button as the engines went from roaring to silent and he patted the small pocket of his belt to check the ring of beskar one final time. 

It was never an important part of Mandalorian tradition to give jewellery as part of a promise, but he had seen the ring she wore in a necklace around her neck and she had told him how it belonged to her mother given by her father. He knew that coming back with an answer he had to prove it more than just words - he had to show her that despite needing more time before they could settle in any one place, he would be the man to give her that life. 

But the second Din landed on Terra, he knew something was wrong. With the soles of his boot on the mossy ground and his hand raised to stop Grogu from climbing down any further, he scanned around him until he could find what was wrong.

There was almost so much wrong that Din had to grip the edge of the ladder to stop himself from keeling over with nausea. The moonlight felt dull, the wind howled when it was usually quiet, the grass was a lifeless kind of green… Everything had the hairs on the back of his neck standing on edge and his hand reaching for his blaster as the other tucked Grogu safely into the bag already hanging from his shoulder.

The walk to the farm was one he has done more times than he could count but he had never felt like this while doing it, never gripped his blaster and took each step with such care like he did as he rounded the last line of trees. 

His heart was in his throat as he took in the scene before him. 

Raiders - twelve of them dressed in black - circling the cottage like prey waiting to pounce. Some of them held ageing blasters, others simple sticks that had been whittled down to a sharp point, three of them held burning stakes that were flickering towards the thatched roof.

“Come out little witch,” one of them  - the leader - snarled. He took one step towards the door, then another, and before Din could move he caught the glimmer of silver in the moonlight.

A blaster - his blaster that he had tucked between her mattress and wall and begged her - with her hands in his - to use if anyone caused trouble, was tucked in the corner of the window and aimed directly at the man.

“Don’t take another step,” she called back, her words steady to the ears of a stranger but laced with fear he had never heard before as someone who recalled the cadence of her voice every night before he slept.

The man took no heed, his boots crunching one more step before a red blast shot from the window and the man collapsed to a heap on the ground. Din turned as quickly as he could, setting the child behind a tree and pointing a shaking finger in his direction,

“Stay here. Don’t come out until I call for you.” 

He only waited long enough for Grogu to cower back against the tree before Din took off running towards the blasts and fire that had erupted. He watched as she defended her home to no end, fighting off brutes twice - three times - her size as they tried to take hold with one now dragging her out of the cottage. Her eyes met his across the farm in shock, widening for a second long enough to be distracted as one of the men took an off-centre shot that grazed along her hand and forearm and she hissed at the burn.

The rage that flowed through Din was like none he felt before - not when he was a helpless child and his parents were murdered, not when he was a young man with more emotion than he knew what to do with, not when Grogu was taken and he felt more panic than rage. No, these men were fighting a losing battle as Din slashed through them and up the steps - these men who were trying to hurt the person who was more his than anyone in the universe. He tucked her behind him as he fought against the ten men left after he took down the one still on her porch to defend both her and the cottage.

She took down two with steady aims he had made her practice and Din easily took down the other eight with shots from the blaster and slices of the saber, but it was too late for the cottage. He gripped her wrist and tried to pull her down the steps, away from the flames engulfing her home as she beat at his arm and shoulder with a fist until she managed to slip free and race inside.

He bellowed her name, his foot barely over the threshold before she came running back out with a back tucked under her arm and her hand over her mouth as she coughed against the smoke. His hand wrapped around hers and he dragged her to the middle of the field, no matter how hard she tried to dig her heels in and turn back again. 

By the time they reached the middle of the field - far enough away for him to deem them safe as he called out to the kid - he took her face in his hands and looked into the eyes where all life was seeming to drain from. 

“Are you hurt? Are you okay? Are-”

She waved him off, letting her bag fall to the ground and soon following it as she sat and stared on at the fire. 

She sat in the middle of the field with Din and the child watching on behind her as the home she had built burned to ash. She had nothing but the small bag beside her, one she had the unnamed urgency to pack today.  

It had some clothes, some medicine, some things that she held dear to her heart that perhaps were not the most practical weight to be adding to an already heavy bag. Everything else… She watched it burn until the sun began to rise and the smoke went with it. She watched it until the silent sobs gave way to steady to tears to the emptiness in the hollow of her chest that made her so tired there was nothing to do but collapse to the ground, letting sleep take over as Din called her name, shaking her shoulder to try and rouse her using a name he had only called her once before.

“Rion’nag.”

[writingsofestella]

vespera - ch. 0

Apostate!Din Djarin x Ex!Jedi!OC -(no use of Y/N Canon Divergent - some plot changed for sake of story, the razor crest lives )

tws // general canon violence, usage of blasters and weapons, mentions of death, minors DNI 18+ only, angst, mature content, more tags to be added later on

a/n: first chapter of the new story. posting this into the void and hoping someone likes it to read it. this story has been spiralling around in my brain for weeks now and i wanted to share it and get it out there. let me know what you all think, and i hope you like it.

wc: 2637

It was nice to see people celebrating. With all of the chaos in the galaxy, it was good to see celebrations of happiness, now and then. Children laughing and chasing each other, adults holding one another tightly, neighbors helping neighbors, excitedly talking and cheering.

The great stone water fountain in the middle of the small village hadn't been running for years. The marshal had seemingly had the only working fountain in the entire town in his home. Of course, he was a businessman first, and couldn't help but use that to his gain. Man had to make credits somehow, he claimed.

How ironic it was that after an anonymous tip, the people investigated the water lines that ran through the town, through the buildings, only to find that the pipes had been turned off and rerouted. The marshal, who had claimed to have his people's best interests at heart, had pled innocence.

It was also ironic how, overnight, he ghosted the town. By morning light, the great fountain in the center was bursting forth with fresh water from the underground spring. Other smaller fountains in the town were filled with water once again, restoring life to the dying town.

If someone were to be paying attention, they'd think it strange that all this seemingly happened within the few weeks after the stranger had arrived to their little town.

The hooded stranger paid them all no mind, as she stood in the shadow of an alleyway. She leaned against the cool stone wall, taking comfort in it.

The heat that bore down on the planet Utov from its' two suns was almost unbearable for her to handle, which might have been another reason the town's fountains were now back in order.

Maybe she just hated seeing old men in power.

It was all just coincidental, of course.

One of the townsfolk, a young mother with a kid on her hip, excitedly came up to her. She had a wide smile on her face, relief and joy evident on her once worn and tired features. "Fyra, isn't it amazing? We won't have to worry about water anymore!" 

Fyra smiled from under her scarf. "It is. What does the little one think?" She asked, looking from the mother to the child. 

"Oh, he's got all sorts of ideas in his head about who did it." The mother, who was named Siane, teased, lightly. 

The kid, a young boy no older than six, looked at Fyra with wide eyes and a toothy smile. "You did it, didn't you?" He loudly whispered. "They said it was a shadow in the night, that no one really saw who it was!" 

"Hush now! We don't want to be bothering our traveler with that." Siane lightly chastised, teasingly pinching the boy's ear.

He let out a whine in protest, squirming.

Fyra simply gave a tilt of her head, amused. "What a shadow that must've been then." She responded lightly, holding her fingers out and wiggling them playfully. 

The boy giggled, and reached his own little hand out for her to take. She squeezed his hand playfully, before letting it go. Fyra didn't miss the inquisitive look she received, however, from Siane.

"These kids and their imaginations." She sighed out, shaking her head, but there was a happy smile on her face. "We're going to Danthi's later to celebrate. Are you coming?" Siane asked, tilting her head slightly.

"I don't know. I might, might not." Fyra said, undecided yet. "You know I'm not one for large celebrations." She said.

Siane let out a snort, shaking her head. "Yeah, I can tell. You're over here sulking in the corner instead of coming out and celebrating with us."

"I'm not sulking, I'm in the shade." Fyra retorted, shaking her head.

Siane let out an exasperated sigh, and then shook her head. "Alright, alright. Well, if you wanna go, you know where we'll be at." She says, as her little boy starting squirming to be let down and go run around with the other children. "I'll see you later then." She said, and with a nod, was being dragged out to the crowd by her child.

Fyra let out a quiet huff, that smile still playing on her lips, as she shook her head. She slipped away from the main celebration, making her way down the alleyway. She might go get a drink later, maybe something refreshing since she felt parched already from the day.

As she walked around the corner, however, a sinking feeling filled her stomach, and the hairs on the back of her neck and her arms stood straight up. She held her breath as she slowed her steps.

Without warning, a vibrocord whip flew past her head and she swerved, just in time to avoid getting trapped in it.

The culprit of the vibrocord stepped around the corner as it whipped back to its owner. A Mandalorian, in worn, chipped armor, appeared in the shadows of the alleyway. The only thing new on him was his beskar helmet, which stared down at her, unrelenting. His fingers twitched over the blaster at his hip.

A bounty hunter.

All the way out here.

"That's a rude way to say hello." She found herself saying, body tense, ready to run.

"You're a hard woman to find." He spoke back, voice rough through the modulator in the helmet.

"Maybe that's the point."

He gave the slightest tilt of his head. "They told me not to bother speaking to you, just to bring you in." He spoke out, voice even, controlled. "But I'll offer you a deal. You can come with me peacefully, or, I can drag you, kicking and screaming."

"That's not much of a deal." She retorted back, her body tense with the adrenaline filling her to run once again. Her heart raced as she tried to will the Force to calm her, help her think rationally so she'd make it out of this alive.

"Murderers with a bounty of their head don't usually get deals at all." He retorted, taking a threatening, stalking step toward her.

She cursed internally. She thought she'd gotten far enough away to not have any bounty hunters follow her this far out.

She had thought wrong.

"How kind of you." She retorted, voice dry as she took a cautionary step backwards. "Too bad I'll have to decline your deal."

With a roll and a duck, she narrowly avoided the vibrocord whip that shot past her head. Without hesitation, she used that momentum to bolt forward. 

Right Into the busy marketplace. 

She didn't hesitate. Ducking and weaving in between people, she ignored the yells of profanity as she pushed through. She could hear his footsteps, heavy and powerful, chasing after her. The screams and yells of the people they pushed through.

She could only hope the people would slow him down enough for her to escape. She pushed herself further into the crowd, no longer pushing, blending in and moving with the crowd. 

Sharply, she turned into an alleyway, a small cantina set in the back. Making her way, briskly, past the couples lingering outside, she was quick to get inside. It took her a minute to blink, for her eyes to adjust, but she was still moving. She couldn't stop. Her heart raced, chest heaving, as she tried to keep the panic at bay.

The cantina wasn't busy, most crowds outside still in the marketplace, celebrating. There were a few people she knew inside, people she had helped, setting up for the party.

Her eyes landed on the bartender, who was hanging something up. 

Danthi, with her greying hair pulled back into a tight bun and a towel over her shoulder, immediately shot up to look at her. Her hazel eyes locked onto her.

Frya pulled down the cloth over her face. "Danthi-" She sucked in a panicked breath. 

"Oh Fyra! What's got you so panicked, you look like you've seen a ghost!" She immediately gushed out, coming down off of the ladder to her side.

"There's a Mandalorian after me." She said, trying to reign in her fear. "I don't know how he found me but-"

Danthi gently grasped her arms, standing in front of her. "Calm down, breathe." She said, voice soothing. She started to lead her behind the bar. "Hey, you two!" She yelled at the two sitting near the door. "Whoever distracts the Mandalorian gets free drinks for the next month." She barked out.

The two aliens grinned. Downed their drinks. They cracked their necks, then walked outside, casually, as if not going up to face a Mandalorian bounty hunter. 

Danthi turned back to her. "We knew this would eventually happen, right?" She said, continuing to lead her around the bar. Pushing open the half door, she led her in. 

"Yes, but I didn't think it'd happen so soon- I just came back here not that long ago." She breathed out, adrenaline pumping through her veins.

"There's a trapdoor leading to underground tunnels. Follow it, straight, 'till it dead-ends. You'll find a transport droid that'll take you to a port." She ducked under the bar, grabbing a canvas bag, giving it to her. "Take this and run." 

Fyra was overwhelmed with emotion, with information. She tried to control it, letting the Force in to try and let it wash over her again. "But what if he comes in here?" 

She gave a shrug, a grin growing on her face. "I'm not scared of any man, let alone a Mandalorian." She tucked Fyra's scarf better atop her head. "You need to go. Let this be your payment for helping us." She said. "Let us help you, just this once." 

"Danthi-" 

She pulled Fyra into a tight, quick hug, before pulling back. She pulled out the key from under the collar of her shirt, unlocking the trapdoor.

It looked dark, dimly lit. Like a dungeon or a tomb for the dead, dust and dirt spewing out down below.

Looking back up to Danthi, she gave one more look. "Thank you." She breathed out. 

"Go. May the Force be with you." She smiled, giving one last squeeze of Fyra's arms. 

They could hear yelling outside. An argument. She could sense the rising danger just outside the cantina doors.

"Come on, Mando! Don't you ever take a day off and drink?!" 

"You think there's a living bein' under that armor or do you think he is the armor?"

The two women locked eyes again, and Danthi all but pushed her down the trapdoor. 

She landed on her feet, half stumbling, with a cloud of dust, dirt, and sand shooting up around her. Jerking her head back up, she got one last look at Danthi's confident, grinning face, before it was sealed back up.

And she was left in complete darkness.

Swallowing thickly, she took in a steadying breath. Letting it out, she reached to her side for the silver-hilted weapon she kept at her side. Her fingers ran over the worn but familiar buttons, but she did not ignite it. Instead, she reached for the flashlight she kept on her belt.

Yellow flickering light ignited in the tunnel as the flashlight came to life. It casted shadows against the walls, down the endless tunnels. Little creatures of the darkness slithered back into it, hissing and clicking noises following as they disappeared back into their darkness.

Ignoring the shiver that ran up her spine, she slid her scarf back over her face. She started walking down the tunnel, heading straight and true as Danthi told her. She tried to keep her memories in check. She was not being left behind in a tomb. She was not being abandoned by her Master. 

There was, however, someone hunting her down once more.

She could sense danger up above her and she had no doubt that it was the Mandalorian. Quickening her steps, she continued down the tunnel, trying to keep herself calm and grounded. She had to keep moving, had to keep going. 

Reaching the end of the tunnel, she heard a noise that made her heart drop to her stomach. It was the sound of flame, and then, metal melting. 

She turned off the light, sliding it back onto her holster, swift. Jumping up onto the ladder, she could hear the metal trapdoor being melted, falling away and crashing to the ground. She pushed away any and all thoughts about Danti being hurt. She couldn't. She couldn't let herself slow or let Danthi's efforts go in vain to get her out safe.

She was fine. She had to be.

Rapidly, she climbed up the ladder, using her shoulder to try and open it. "Dank ferrik!" She hissed out when it didn't budge. With a lift of her hand, she swiped it across the lock. 

A click resounded and it flung open. 

She pulled herself up and out, finding herself in another alleyway, on the outskirts of town. Heaving for air as she pulled herself up, she saw the transport droids with the sandships, hovering and waiting. 

Shoving the trapdoor back, with a loud, resounding SLAM and another flick of her wrist, it locked behind her, sealing it shut. She bolted toward the ship, not caring if anyone was out to see her frantic movements. 

She slid to a stop in front of the sandship, wide eyes, heaving chest, looking at the R2 droid in the ship.

"I need to get to the port. Now." She commanded.

It beeped in response. A question of where she wanted to go.

"Doesn't matter. Closest one. One that can get me off-planet." She retorted, hopping into the sandship, tying the bag Danthi had given her around her back and under her shoulder. 

Within seconds, she was taking off, zooming across the dry, hot desert. She felt the blaster before she heard it, the heat flying past her ear.

She gasped, ducking down immediately, head shooting back to look behind them. 

The Mandalorian had made it out, standing with a blaster in hand. A shiver raced down her spine as their gazes locked. 

He fired again, and she did not hesitate to use the Force to project an invisible shield around them. 

The droid screamed in fear and the ship dipped to the side, swerving. She slammed into the side of the ship with a forceful exhale.

She sucked in a fast breath, pain in her ribs. "It's alright!" She yelled to the little droid, breathless from the impact. "I got you, keep going!" 

The droid sped along, and she used the Force to protect them from any other blaster shots, seemingly redirecting them as they flew past them.

The Mandalorian's form, shining and reflecting the dying suns' light, stared her down, slowly lowering the blaster as he grew smaller and smaller behind her. 

She knew, without a doubt, he was not giving up. Mandalorians, as they were, never gave up, never stopped, until they were dying. This would not be the last time she saw him. She only hoped she was far enough way when she did that she could escape him again.

With the rising stars and moon above, she could only hope to the Force that she'd have the strength to keep one step ahead. That the universe would guide her where she needed to go.

As he disappeared with the town growing steadily smaller and smaller, she let the town, and its' people, go from her heart. She would hold their kindness in her chest, but she knew she probably would never be able to come back again.

The life of a Jedi in this galaxy would never be safe.

all writing is my own. please do not redistribute, repost, or share on other platforms. thank you

[snorkin-sporks]

Soggy little fic part 2

Axe Woves is tired of being told what to do. [chapter 2]

The incessant noise of his alarm startled Axe awake. Shooting upright, he smashed the top of his head against the bunk above his, waking Ragnar in the process.

“Axe? What's going on?” his tiny voice slurred with the remnants of sleep, making Axe feel even more guilty for waking him.

“Just another mission buddy, you can go back to sleep. I'll comm Koska to keep an eye on you.”  Koska had generously volunteered for Ragnar-watching duty, desperate to beat Bo-Katan in the race to become ‘kaysh nuhur ba’vodu’. Well, according to her.

Ragnar let out a heavy sigh, clearly not pleased with this development. Axe knew that this was the time for bribes.

“Okay Ragnar. What if I told you Djarin and his weird green kid are coming-” Ragnar practically squealed at that.

“-And… Djarin’s aliit will be here too. Fett is helping Grogu and wants to see if any of the new foundlings need training too, and I bet he would let you shoot something. So behave for your ba’vodu I’ll see if you can go.” 

The kid nodded enthusiastically. It was settled. Ragnar would behave, and Axe would take him somewhere more interesting than the training grounds.

After satiating Ragnar, Axe made his way to the kitchen, a cold pot of caff waiting for him. He sat down on the uncomfortable chair, careful not to dump the re-heated goodness residing in his travel mug, and commed Koska.

“-Ori’Vod! Me’vaar ti gar?” oh boy. Koska had a kriff ton of energy this morning. 

“Could you keep an eye on Ragnar for me? I’ve got job duty, reconnaissance in the base ruins.” the Imperial base that Axe had crashed the Nite Owls lead ship into only weeks earlier. Bo-Katan was still pissed about that.

“-didn't Bo’ika ban you from further mission until you were cleared by the baar’ru?” Well kark. Axe was banned, and for good reason. Reasons Koska wasn't exactly privy to…

“No need to be mir’sheb, can you watch him or not?” Axe sighed internally. He loved Koska, he really did (she was his kih’vod after all), but ka’ra was she infuriating sometimes. 

“-if it means beating Bo’s shebs then kriff yeah. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes. Don’t let Bo catch you leaving Sundari though, she’ll have your hide.”

The audio cut out as Axe ended the call, Koska was right, if his Ori’Vod heard he was on a mission she’d put him on house arrest or something, Axe would never hear the end of it.

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ 

Axe and the other Mando’ade were deep in the remnants of the base, they trudged on, Ruusaan (a Child of The Watch) was leading, but that didn't stop the other Nite Owls from looking to Axe for commands. 

Sweeping through the crumbling hallways, Axe stumbled, losing his balance almost completely. Catching himself on the wall, Axe took a moment to breathe, trying to ease the relentlessly pounding dizziness. 

“Duraani, burc’ya?” one mando’ad - a covert dweller - said sharply, Axe realised that he’d been staring. He looked away, shaking his head. He could barely see over the grey fogging his vision.

  “Nah, Sorry mate.” his voice shook. Axe took one more second to cling desperately to the wall before walking on, his vison was static around the edges and his ears still rung but he kept going. He had to push through, no good ever came from being weak. 

Axe struggled as the squad continued through the ruined base. He knew Bo-katan wanted him on light duty, and he’d tried to comply, but kark had he missed this. 

Axe knew it was a horrible idea to jump straight into scouting the rough areas of the base, he knew Bo had good reason to keep him away, he knew he’d pay for it later. But that was exactly that, later. Might as well have some fun while he wasn't wearing an ankle monitor and surrounded by a medic team for the rest of his life.

[galactic-star-bruiser]

Bounty (Din x F!reader smut)

SMUTTY ONE SHOT 18+ Minors DNI! Please!

Din x f!reader

Warnings: rough din, a plot if you squint hard enough, unprotected sex... its just pure smut idk what else to tell ya, but it does get sweet at the end w a lil aftercare

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I laid there in the street, propped up my my elbows.

Moonlight illuminating only the beskar clad man that towered over me. 

“I can take you in warm, or I can take you in cold” he growled behind his helmet, hand clenched around the blaster in his holster. 

“Haven’t we already played this little game before, Mando” I smirked. 

We had. He’d been hunting me for a few days at least and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious as to what it’d be like to be caught by him. He cornered me earlier in a bar but I got away from him...somehow. Maybe he let me. Maybe he liked the chase.

He sighed and reached down, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt and lifting me so that I was eye level with him. 

“No more games.”

With that I was put over his shoulder and my hands were shackled along with a piece of fabric shoved into my mouth to keep me quiet. 

At least I was getting one half of what I imagined a night with him would be like.

He walked with me on his shoulder all the way back to his ship, hand never leaving my ass to keep me still. He could’ve picked my legs to hold onto...but I wasn’t complaining. 

I was thrown with a little more force than expected, earning a grunt through my gag. 

He dragged my by my shackles, then he stopped and crouched down to my eye level.

“You’ve been a very bad girl. I think I’d like to teach you a lesson before putting you in the hands of another man.”

Fuck

His gloved hand was gentle on my face, causing a moan to escape from me. For that, I had earned a light slap. 

“No noise.”

I nodded in compliance and he lifted me once more, throwing me onto the small cot-like bed in the back of the ship.

I sat myself up, back against the headboard, and I couldn’t help but stare at him. Something about his armor turned me on more than anything and I could feel heat pool between my legs. 

“Are you gonna be a good girl for me?” He asked, cocking his head to the side with one knee now on the bed. 

I smirked as much as the gag allowed and shook my head ‘No’.

He chuckled, low, and it rumbled through his body, “What a fucking tease.”

Within seconds he flipped me onto all fours, ass in the air.

His fingers traced the area of my pussy through my tight, thin, pants.

I couldn’t help but moan and whimper, earning a hard smack to my ass.

That mark would be there in the morning

I heard a piece of armor fall to the ground and the seductive way he slowly undid his zipper. 

I’d fucking kill to see his cock right now

He rubbed his rock solid self across where he had just been touching, “already so wet for me, huh? You’ve probably dreamt of this before didn’t you, you little slut?”

I could only respond by moving my ass closer to him, trying to feel every inch of him. 

He tutted, mockingly, “So desperate for me.”

With those words he tore the fabric of my pants just enough to get access to what he wanted. 

A low moan and a genuine tone replaced his arrogant one, “what a pretty fucking pussy for me” he whispered mainly to himself. 

His rough gloved thumb found my clit, then dipped into my heat. 

I tried my best to be quiet for him, and whimpered with pleasure. 

With his other hand he grabbed my throat and pulled me up so that my back was on his chest, “Its okay, baby. I wanna hear how good I make you feel now. No one could fuck you better than me, isn’t that right?”

He removed the fabric in my mouth and I nodded yes, all the air in my body felt as though it had been punched out of me. 

His grip tightened and his fingers inside of me quickened their pace, “I didn’t fucking hear you. Answer me when I ask you a question.”

I yelped, “Fuck...yes...I’m sorry.. fuck... no one could fuck me better than you.”

“Thats what I thought.”

He let me fall back, face first to the bed, only able to catch myself with my elbows, wrists still cuffed together. 

“Please” was all I could whimper, leaning further into his fingers, the gloves making them feel even bigger than they looked. 

“If you like my hands baby, then you’re gonna fucking love whats between my thighs.”

something in that arrogant tone made me want to rip off every piece of fabric that kept his skin from touching mine

“Fuck me... please, fuck me.”

“Well since you asked so sweetly.”

Without warning he was splitting me in half and didn’t give me even a second to adjust. 

He was bigger and longer than I could’ve imagined, or ever had inside of me. 

I screamed, burying my head in his pillows. 

“Thats my good girl. Fucking take it.”

He pace never faltered, even when he slid completely out of me only to slam back in. 

The sounds of my ass slapping against his armored thighs sent my body into overdrive and I couldn’t control the embarrassing noises that slipped their way past my gritted teeth. 

I groaned when he left me, my pussy clenching around nothing, missing the way he completely and utterly filled me. 

He flipped me onto my back, sat back on his haunches, and lifted me onto his lap. My shackled hands were slipped over his helmet, and my arms had no other choice but to be wrapped around his neck. 

“Oh, cyar'ika, those noises you make... don’t fucking stop.”

He got his wish once his cock found my opening once more and he used his hands to lift me up and crash me back down onto him.

I could feel my wetness on his armor, my thighs resting on his own as I sat on his lap, completely surrendering to pleasure.

The position and the heat coming off of his own body made my head spin, and he hit something in me that I didn’t even know existed. 

“Fuck...fuck I’m going to cum.” I moaned, now starting to roll my hips as he moved me along his shaft.

“Be a good girl and cum on my dick, I want to feel you.”

That was all I needed, now shuddering and seeing stars.

But he wasn’t done. 

“On your knees, precious.”

I complied instantly and he moved me to the floor to face him as he sat on the edge of his bed. 

I opened my mouth and let the drool run down from my tongue. I was still shaking, he didn't even give me time to come down from the high he just gave me.

He didn’t just want my mouth to suck him off, that was evident enough by the way he held my head in place and fucked my throat.  

The spit and gagging didn’t stop him and I felt him began to twitch and tighten in me, my tongue dragging across him as he grunted.

He pulled out quickly, painting my face with a satisfied groan of pleasure. 

Multiple ropes of hot cum found their way across my mouth and cheeks, and I closed my eyes, humming with content. 

I opened them once more and watched the last of it leak from his swollen tip. 

“So pretty with me all over you face.”

He wiped my face with the fabric that was still wet from being stuffed in my mouth earlier. 

The Mandalorian put his elbows on his thighs and leaned closer to my face as I sat, still on my knees.

“I might just keep you. Who knew you were such a good fuck?” He said, still raspy from the moans.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you Mando?” I teased. 

He just hummed, agreeing, but too cocky to answer me in earnest. 

He undid the shackles on my wrist and I soothed them by rubbing my hands over them. 

When I tried to stand, my knees buckled and my legs were still shaking from pleasure. 

He caught me by my waist and moved me to the bed. 

It smelled like him and I was beginning to feel more than just the pure animalistic sexual attraction to him. 

He pulled me onto his chest, now laying next to me and patting my hair.

I liked his soft side. 

[ooops-i-arted]

Wedding Gifts

After a moment Cara stepped out, just as beautiful in a simple robe as she’d been in her wedding gown yesterday. She carried a long narrow box in her hands.  “Good morning, sleepyhead.”

“Good morning.  What’s this?” Din asked, nodding at the box.

She smiled broadly.  “Your wedding present.”

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Thanks @velvetblackness for giving me the nudge to get back to writing these two. :)