#and since I can’t decide on a din ship I leave that to your interpretation

[pinkiemme]

Cowboys and Cowgirls make better lovers

❤️🧡💛💚💙

[disgruntledspacedad]

Stay

Din Djarin x f!feader

a/n: just a silly little thing I whipped up to tease my lovely wives with. Din and his characterization are 3,000 percent inspired by @djarinsbeskar’s masterpiece Stitches, so definitely check that out if for some reason you haven’t already. Also, please be gentle — I am not a Din writer!

MASTERLIST || JOIN MY TAGS

☙

The Crest is gone.

The kid is gone.

And you are alone.

Fett leaves you be, even after the jolt of hyperspace, and you spend the jump back to Nevarro cloaked in heavy silence.

Din hasn’t said a word since the Jedi’s x-wing had been swallowed in a sea of stars.

You trail behind him off the docking bay, wondering where he’ll go and if you should follow. As if he reads your thoughts, Fett catches your eye, twitches his head in the most subtle of gestures. His meaning is unmistakable.

“Mando!” you call behind him. It feels odd, addressing him like this after so many cycles alone on the Crest.

“Din.” He grunts it into your ear as you’d made a fool of yourself over just his fingers, moaning and sobbing and shattering for him.

“Din?” you repeat breathlessly, the context completely lost on you. You’re still floating outside your own body, one with the stars.

“Din.” The cot creaks as he extracts himself from you, and then, he is gone.

It doesn’t occur to you until much later, the magnitude of what you’d been given.

Din stiffens, and you can’t help but imagine the way the muscles in his back ripple with the motion. Everything in him is clenched tight, the feeling echoed painfully in your chest.

He’s lost so much.

He turns. Pauses. It’s the still, silent pause that you can’t help but associate with a dead-eyed stare, no matter that you haven’t seen —

But wait.

You have seen his face, now.

And that stops you dead in your tracks. You flush furiously, doing your best to escape the memory of wide, dark eyes and unkempt hair, full lips and devestated expression.

It wasn’t for you to see.

It occurs to you that by following him, you’re continuing to violate him. That maybe this, the fallout of a loss so profound, for a man as private as Din Djarin, isn’t for you to see, either.

But just as you’re opening your mouth to stammer an apology, Din sighs. It’s barely a hiss escaped from the modulator, but you read it in his entire body, the subtle sink of his shoulders, the shift in how he carries himself.

“Come on, then.”

Not the most enthusiastic of welcomes, but the silence is broken, at least, and Din’s slowed his pace enough for you to catch him without the indignity of a chase.

It’s not much, but from a man like Din Djarin, it’s enough.

He pays for three nights’ stay in an inn at the edge of town, books a single room with a single bed.

Heart in your throat, you hesitate, unsure of how to interpret this.

On the one hand, it makes sense. Din has never been a man to waste money in luxury, and now that the Crest is gone, he has no way of making a living.

It occurs to you that, not only are you a nuisance, you’re a burden.

You mind travels back, back to the silence, back to the escaped sigh, back to the subtle hint of relief you think you’d felt from him as you’d followed on his heels through the filthy city streets.

“Come on,” he’d said.

Mando is not a man who beckons lightly.

The innkeeper leers at you from behind the bar, brows raised in question, and you decide you’ve wasted enough time. Any more, and you’ll start to draw attention.

And attention is the last thing that Din needs right now.

You slip through the door to find his caped back toward you. Din faces the bed, cold and silent as if he were frozen carbonite, and suddenly, that tension that had plagued you in the belly of Fett’s ship redoubles. You find yourself tongue tied and awkward, itchy hands desperate for something to do.

You and Din had so rarely exchanged words. Communication has always been very physical between you - a nod or a glance, a subtle graze of gloved fingers, a quick, pointed gesture.

But now, the memory of his bare face burns in you, brings back other memories that burn. Slips of soft skin, unshielded by beskar and hot as suns by comparison. Skilled hands that had groped beneath your robes in the pitch dark, long fingers seeking only your release. Corded muscles that had tensed beautifully beneath your palms, quiet, modulated huffs that had escaped into the room, urging your body to a frenzy in a desperate effort to earn more.

You’d always, always wanted more.

But now, you can’t help but connect his body to his face, the face he’d sworn an oath never to allow you to see. Bitter self-loathing overtakes you, and you spin toward the door.

How dare you take advantage of his grief like this?

“Where are you going?”

Your breath catches. He hasn’t moved.

“I’m sorry, Din.” You know if you turn around, he’ll see your shame, and you can’t put that burden on him. Not when he’s already carrying so much. “This is a mistake.”

There’s a shift. Soft slap of leather, a sharp inhale, and then, silent as a predator, Din is across the room, a looming presence at your back. Long, bare fingers weave themselves through yours, and he exhales a gentle breath that stirs the hairs at your nape.

“Stay,” he whispers.

Your heart freezes in your chest. There’s no subtle echo, no tinny distortion from the modulator.

He squeezes your threaded hands. “Please, cyar'ika. I need you to stay.”

☙

Tags:  @jedi-mando @hotspacepilots @djarinsbeskar​ @mostly-megan  @starlight-starwrites @thirstworldproblemss @knittingqueen13 @yespolkadotkitty @lv7867 @pascalisthepunkest @sarahjkl82-blog @corrupt-fvcker @artsymaddie @leonieb @justanotherblonde23 @princess-and-pedro  @mandoandgrogu @penajavier @hells-bells-x @javihoney @mamacitapascal @the-ginger-hedge-witch @absurdthirst @darnitdraco​ @dihra-vesa @librariantothejedi @frankie-catfish-morales @dobbyjen @heartsofbeskar @honestly-shite @frenchyjuju @asta-lily

Big apologies if tags are screwed up. I’m on mobile and don’t have access to my new list. I’ll fix that ASAP.

Also shoutout for my PFP peeps. Thanks for letting me be… well, me. 😅

[firstofficerwiggles]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered

Sequel to Sending a Message (link)

Din Djarin x Female Reader

Rating: M, 18+ only please (If you prefer, I also have a T rating version of this fic that skips the sex click here)

Warnings: Smut, but like fluffy smut, unprotected sex – this is fantasy people, please be safe in real life

Summary: Din and the reader confess their feelings and then they have sex, there’s not a lot of plot here

Word count: approx. 3700

Author’s Note: This is a continuation of Sending a Message; I’ve included the ending lines of that fic here to start us off. This is only my second fic and my first time writing smut, so be gentle. Timelinewise with the show, this is some point between season 1 and 2 and the Razor Crest is still with us (RIP Space Honda Civic). Also, I’m going with the relaxed interpretation of the helmet rules that as long as you can’t see him, Din can take off the helmet. I hope you like it!

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

“Thank you, for doing… for helping me out,” you feel rather flustered and it’s making you babble, “back there.” “I just couldn’t get those guys to bug off.”

“It was my pleasure,” he responds rather cheekily, “I figured I was going to get into a bar brawl, but I liked your idea a hell of a lot better.” He tilts his helmet at you and you can swear that you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Well, thank you, again” you say softly. He steps closer to you and you’re practically touching him as he looks down at you and says with a chuckle, “Any time you need me to feel you up again, just let me know.”

And before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “I will.”

He laughs and tips his head down to you, “Message received.”

This whole evening has really been something. What started out as a little ploy to act like you and Din were a couple in order to stop those men from hitting on you, had quickly turned into you practically blurting out your feelings for him. But now, he’s teasing, dare you say, flirtatious, making you flustered. Is he actually interested in you? You would love to hope it were true, but he’s probably just laughing because this situation is quite funny, I mean you made him, practically demanded, he put his hand up your skirt in a crowded cantina and in front of the kid. Who does that? You can’t help but chuckle along with him. It breaks the tension of the moment and you decide it really is time to let him have some privacy and wind down from the day. You give Din a smile and a small nod before you turn to go when he reaches out and takes your arm, stopping you.

“What were you going to say?” he inquires.

“Nothing,” you reply, confused.

“No, I mean back at the cantina, before the waiter interrupted…” he explains, “it felt like you wanted to tell me something?” His voice is softer now, no longer teasing.

Oh? Oh! you remember that moment, Din’s hand caressing your thigh, turning you on, you moaning his name and wishing that he wouldn’t stop, that it was all true, and that you really were his.

“Oh, I… it wasn’t, it doesn’t matter…” you try to play it off, too nervous to tell him what you were really thinking.

“What was it?” he really wants to know.

“I--” you don’t know what to say, you just stare at the black visor in his helmet, all words escaping you.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” he says gently, “I want you to know you can always trust me.” He is still holding your arm, but now he slides his hand down to yours and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I do trust you, but, maybe some things are better left unsaid.” You’re afraid that if you tell him the truth, it could ruin your friendship. You look down, worried the emotion in your eyes will give you away.

“I think I want to hear it,” Din urges you, tenderly, “I think I need to hear you say it.” He steps closer to you, brushes a tendril of your hair off your face, and gently strokes your cheek. His hand stops on your chin and tips your face up so he can look in your eyes.

And you can’t help but tell him the truth, “I wanted to tell you how much I was enjoying it, enjoying you touching me, how I didn’t want it to stop, and how I wanted it to be real, to really be yours.” The words come out in a breathless rush of emotion.

Din feels a warmness permeate his chest at your words and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He’s been imagining this moment for a while now, wanting to know if you have feelings for him and wanting to try to show you how he feels. But these emotions are new to him and he has been at a loss for how to say something or do something. He needed you to make the first move, to guide him before he screwed it all up. In the past, his romantic interactions with women, if you can call them that, have been brief sexual liaisons lasting only a couple of hours at the most. With you though, he knows this is something more, he wants it to be something more. Yet, he feels like an awkward, gawky teenager trying to express himself around you. Your words give him confidence though and he tells you,

“It was real to me,” his voice sounding huskier than usual “I didn’t have to pretend at all.”  

“You didn’t?” you sound surprised, “I mean, you, wanted to do that?”

He chuckles softly, “Did I want to touch you? Hell, yes. I’ve wanted to touch you practically since the moment we met,” he confesses. “It’s not how I imagined it happening, but I’m glad it did.” He pauses for a moment and shuffles on his feet a bit. He has had years of intense training, but would it have killed them to add in a few lessons on how to talk to women? At least you’re smiling at him, so you’re clearly pleased with his words. He plows on because he wants you to understand this isn’t just about lust, “It’s more than just wanting to touch you though, I want to be close to you, to share more with you, because I can talk to you, and you listen, you understand me, and you’re so beautiful.” Oh Maker, he’s babbling like a nitwit.

Thankfully for Din’s sake, you don’t care that his words aren’t smooth, and you jump in before he can panic too much, “Din, I want that too,” you tell him your face lighting up with joy, “I care for you so much.” You take his other hand in yours and give them both a light squeeze to punctuate your words.

Din is quiet for a moment but squeezes your hands in response and then says, “I’m smiling. I know you can’t see it, but would you like to feel it?”

“How?” you’re curious and excited about the prospect.

“How do you feel about the dark?” he asks more confident now.

You think about what he’s implying, and you say rather flirtatiously, “I like the dark.”

“Let’s get more comfortable, first.” Din has a plan of action now and he feels more at ease. Still holding your hand, he leads you over to your sleeping area where you have a semblance of a ‘room’ with some storage crates pushed up against one of the walls of the ship acting as chairs. You watch as he removes his cape, gloves, and armor, placing everything in a neat pile on top of one of the crates, but he leaves on his helmet and one of his vambraces. He then sits down on the other crate, tilts his helmet at you, and then pats his lap suggestively. You let out a small laugh, he’s so cute, and then eagerly settle yourself on his lap again. Without all the beskar, he’s much warmer and now you can feel his body even though he’s still wearing his protective clothing. He seems content just to hold you for a moment as you let yourself relax in his arms.

“Ready for the dark?” he asks.

“Mmm, yes,” you reply. He presses a few buttons on his vambrace and you are plunged into almost total darkness; there is only a tiny bit of ambient light from a few of the glowing buttons on the ship, but at most all you can see are shadowy figures even as your eyes adjust. He has to let go of you for a moment, and you sit up a little, giving him space to move. You can hear the shuffling of him removing his vambrace and then, the helmet. One of his arms wraps around you again, pulling you back against his broad chest and his other reaches down to find your hand. You gasp a little at the touch of his bare hand; it’s softer than you would have thought and much warmer without the glove. He brings your hand up to his face letting you caress his jawline.

“Can you feel that I’m smiling?” Din’s voice sounds different without the modulator but you love it because you can hear the emotion in his voice more clearly. You let your hands wander to his cheeks where you can feel a dimple on one side, then, you move towards his mouth and gently run your fingertips along his lips.

“Yes, I can. I’m glad that you’re smiling, you deserve to be happy,” you tell him.

“You make me happy,” he says and you can feel his smile widen.

“I can also tell that you have a mustache and some sexy scruff on your jaw,” you say playfully as you resume your exploration of his face.

He chuckles at that, “I can always shave if you prefer.”

“No, no, I like it.”

You let your hands wander into his hair around the back of his neck feeling how thick and soft his hair is. “You have curly hair,” you say with delight, “I like that too.” He laughs again, amused by your pleasure at discovering more about him. You play with the curls at the base of his neck and slowly bring his head closer to yours.

“May I kiss you?” Din whispers against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe, and then you feel him pull you closer and gently touch his lips to yours. His kiss is tender and slow at first, and he moves his lips with yours in a delicate dance. You sigh into him and as you open your mouth, he follows and deepens the kiss. You feel his tongue brush over yours and it ignites a spark within you. You entwine your fingers into his curls and kiss him back passionately, showing him the depth of your feelings. He kisses you until both of you are breathless and panting. He begins to let his hands wander, stroking your back with one and bringing the other up to caress your neck. His lips follow his hand as he places soft kisses down the column of your neck. You let your own hands explore, running them over his well muscled shoulders and back.

“You’re so strong,” you say softly to him, and you can feel his lips pull into a smile against your skin. He doesn’t say anything but returns to your lips and kisses you intensely, showing you how pleased he is with your praise.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” Din says his voice taking on a sensual tone. He has a desire to recreate the scene in the cantina.

“I want you to touch me,” you respond, “Be handsy again,” you flirt with him.

“Gladly.” He brings his hand up to the exposed skin of your upper chest and lets his fingers skim near the neckline of your dress, only this time your feel his warm fingertips instead of his glove. He begins to let his fingers wander underneath the material of your dress, gently caressing the curves of your breasts and the edge of your bra. You let out a sighed, “yes,” as you lean into his touch, encouraging him. It’s enough of a positive sign for him and he lets his entire hand slip into the bodice of the dress and under your bra palming your breast and seeking out the sensitive tip of your nipple. His fingers circle and brush over the hardened peak causing several moans to fall from your lips. He pulls you back into another searing kiss before repeating his actions with your other breast. He tugs at your clothing a little, pulling it open so that both of your breasts are now exposed to him. He turns you slightly so that he can keep up the work of his fondling hand and fingers, but now he can also dip his head to capture your tight bud in his mouth. You moan his name over and over as he licks and suckles your breasts, causing you to arch your back and move your hips over his lap feeling the hardness of his arousal as you do. It makes Din groan out and he raises his head back to yours for another kiss.

His hand travels lower now, down to your legs, and he drags his fingertips over them lightly in a playful manner until he reaches the hem of your skirt, “What should I do now?” he muses.

“Din,” is all that you can say, slightly exasperated.

“Hmm? What was that?” he kisses the tip of your nose.

“Din, please” you breathe out.

“Please what? What would you like me to do?” he places a kiss in the hollow of your throat.

“Please put your hand up my skirt,” you beg him.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he says with a chuckle.

“You’re driving me crazy with all of this teasing,” you tell him.

“Good,” he responds as he caresses his way up your leg the same way he did in the cantina, only this time he keeps going until he reaches the apex of your thighs. He brushes his fingers over your cloth-covered core making you gasp and tremble slightly. “Should I keep going?” he asks, not to tease this time, but to make sure you are comfortable.

“Yes, please keep going,” you tell him and you reach out to bring him back in for a kiss to show him how much you are enjoying his touch. His fingers find the edge of your panties and make their way to where you want him the most. As he grazes over the delicate folds, you moan and let a shiver of pleasure take over your body.

“You’re so wet for me already, sweetheart,” Din is pleased as his touch gets firmer and he brings your wetness up to your tight bundle of nerves and lets his fingers begin to circle there. All you can say is his name as rational thought is leaving your mind. He shifts his hand and lets his thumb continue to strum your clit while his long middle finger slowly slides inside of you. He sets a steady pace, thrusting his finger in and out being sure to brush the particularly sensitive spot on the top of your walls. A string of mewls and cries are ripped from your throat as your pleasure mounts, “Yes, baby, let me hear you,” Din encourages as he adds a second finger to his thrusts. You feel your internal muscles being to flutter as he guides you to your peak, higher and higher, until you see stars and cry out his name. He keeps up his movements as you ride out your orgasm.

He has you so keyed up that you start to feel the pleasure burn through you again. He starts to slow his fingers and pull away when you grab his wrist to keep him in place and tell him, “Not yet. I can. Again.” It’s all you can get out but it’s enough for him to understand what you need. He renews his movements with vigor as he asks, “Can you? Can you come again for me, sweetheart?” he sounds impressed. You groan in response and he continues with dirty praise, “So responsive to me, letting me get you so hot and wet.” The deep rumble of his voice is all you need and you reach the height of your pleasure a second time, clenching even harder around his fingers, and shuddering all over.

Din presses light kisses to your chest, throat, and face as you come down from your high. He captures your lips again with his own. He can’t believe how wonderful that was. Din’s always thought himself to be a decent lover, making sure his partners enjoy themselves, but he’s never relished foreplay so much before. He loves knowing that he is the one making you feel so good, making you want him as much as he wants you.

“You are incredible,” you tell him breathlessly.

“You’re the incredible one,” he responds, “Does that happen often? Twice, I mean?”

“Only with you.”

“I’m honored,” Din says but you can hear a little smugness in his voice and you smile at his pride in his own sexual prowess.

You sit up a little straighter on his lap and it brings your attention back to the evidence of his desire for you. “I think I’ve been a little greedy though,” you tell him, “Tell me how I can make you feel this amazing. Tell me what you want.”

“I want to make love with you, to feel you around me, to know that you are mine,” he answers you in the most romantic words you’ve ever heard. You lean in to kiss him deeply in response before pulling back to tell him, “I want that too.”

You stand up, pull your dress over your head and shed your bra and panties, so that you are completely naked before him. You hear Din remove his clothing too, and when he pulls you back into him, all you can feel is his warm skin against your own. You reach up to kiss him again, reveling in the feeling of your soft curves against his hard muscular frame. You back up towards your bed still kissing him, but you miscalculate the distance in the dark and you both end up tumbling onto the bed. You giggle in amusement as Din says, “And I thought I was being so smooth,” and joins in your laughter. It feels good to just laugh with him, to feel him so relaxed and happy. Din enjoys the moment too, amazed at the easy way he can connect with you. With the other women he’s taken to bed, he knows such a clumsy fumbling would have been awkward and unsexy, but with you, it feels natural and light.

As Din shifts his body over yours, his movement causes a delicious friction across your skin, and your laughter dissipates into a soft moan of pleasure. He positions himself between your thighs and lets out his own moan as you brush your hips up into his. Din’s lips find your neck and he begins placing open-mouth kisses all over your throat and chest, returning to your breasts to lavish them with even more attention. When he lifts his head, he brings himself back up your body and as he does so, you can feel his hard cock brush over your sensitive folds. He leans down to your ear and says, “Some other time I want to taste all of you, but I can’t wait any longer to make you mine,” and you feel him position himself at your entrance.

“Yes, Din, make me yours,” you tell him, pleadingly, and he slowly enters you letting you adjust to his size as he goes. When he is fully sheathed within you, both of you release a sound of pleasure at finally being joined. You stay still for a moment enjoying the feel of him deep inside you. Din has to bite his lip and hold himself there or this will all be over way too soon. In a way, he’s glad for the dark because seeing you at this instant might send him into bliss right now. He can feel you getting a little impatient though as you flutter yourself around him, tightening and releasing him, and making him practically growl at you. Din gives in to your impatience, beginning to roll his hips slowly in gentle thrusts allowing you to feel every inch of him. You bring your hips up to meet his, changing the angle slightly and he is able to penetrate you even deeper. This earns you a forceful moan from him and he increases his pace.

“You’re so tight, sweetheart, but you take me so well,” Din praises you.

“Oh, Din, you feel fantastic, so big, so hard,” you gasp out as you lift your legs and wrap them around his waist moving in perfect counterpoint to his thrusts and grinding your clit against him. “Faster, please” you beg him and he is happy to comply. You are still so sensitive from earlier and you feel a powerful orgasm starting to build within you like a spark of light getting brighter and brighter each time Din drives himself in and out of your body. He begins to cry out your name and you know he is getting closer to his climax too. You chant out his name as if it’s all that you know how to say as the light overtakes your body in a white-hot intensity and then shatters into a thousand glittering stars. Din feels you come apart beneath him, your internal muscles clenching around him. He wishes he could see your face, but for now, he just enjoys hearing the way you cry out his name and feeling you shudder with ecstasy. He thrusts a few more times trying to prolong the pleasure as much as possible, before letting his own release overtake him, shouting your name as he spills himself inside you.

As you both drift back down from your peaks, you reach up to kiss him again tenderly. Din rolls off you to lie on his back and you shift with him settling in the crook of his arm. You pillow your head on his chest and wrap your leg around his, cuddling up to him.

“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad those guys were hitting on you,” Din says with a snicker, “I should have taken you to more cantinas.”

You chuckle with him, “It’s not your typical romantic beginning, I suppose,” you reply, “but if that’s what it took to get you to really be mine, I won’t complain.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Din says, “I was already yours,” and you can hear the smile in his voice again.

“Maybe so, but now, I know that you’re mine and I’m going to make sure that everyone else knows it too.”

“Sending more messages?” Din chuckles, “I’ll be happy to help you deliver them.”

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Thank you for reading!

[iwriteforthetincanman]

Mandoctober Day 16: Tatooine

ALT TITLE: Stardust, The Force and one big beautiful mess

A/N: at first I wanted to continue the sandcrawler scavenger reader I did (which I will do eventually with or without Mandoctober to guide me) but I went through some personal stuff so I more or less wanted to base this around family and where your roots are from rather than Tatooine itself, which in its essence is that one scene with Luke skywalker standing outside his home with the twin suns and later on down the line, his final resting place along with his twin sister Leia. 

Someone dear to me passed away almost ten years ago now. The anniversary is the day Season two comes out. Which is essentially why I’m so committed to this fandom now. But I also wanted to write something just to get the remaining grief out of my system. 

Mum, this one is for you.

Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum Buir.

Poe Dameron x reader, Nameless!Mother (or Mother Figure) x Din Djarin

(FOR CLARIFICATION DIN DJARIN IS THE READER’S FATHER IN THIS ONE)

also somehow I wrote 5K in two hours none stop...am I Alexander Hamilton? 

It had been so long since I had been home. It hurt to think of the place where I came from. Hatred had leaked into my very belief system, my culture...even my family. 

I felt like they hated me for leaving... but I was scared that they’d never miss me. That I had only been a ghost in their lives. There for 18 years and then poof! I was gone. 

My father, Din Djarin, the Mandalorian saved my mother from slavery when she was quite young. Around my age to be precise. He had no idea at the time because she had been living with an Ugnaught named Kuill. That’s why my middle name is Kuill. I owe that fateful Ugnaught my existence for freeing my own mother from slavery when she was barely even a woman. 

She had nowhere else to go...and instead of keeping her grounded and sheltered away from the rest of the world. He let her live. 

Growing up you hear stories of people dying all around you, neighbours, friends and yes, even pets. It hurts so much you can’t even comprehend it. You become numb and barren to the pains of the world.

It feels like you don’t care anymore.

It got to a point where I was making things up in my head out of anger. How I would’ve handled things differently, what I wanted to do with my life, where I wanted to go.

But my father had only one strict rule.

Once we set down roots...we can never leave.

I never questioned it after the first time he told me why. 

My mother...on the day I decided to leave, knew that something was wrong.

Lately I had been restless, agitated and easy to anger. 

At first she thought I had fallen pregnant. Something that had made us both laugh at the time. It was a hollow memory to me now. I had no idea if she was dead or alive. 

It hurt. The unknown. Death, life. It didn’t matter. 

What mattered was the fight to live. To help others thrive.

You were raised to be everything the First Order was against. 

So of course you wanted to join the resistance at the first chance you got.

---

“NO.”

“But-”

“No means no! Do you have any idea what your mother and I went through to bring you this life, so you could live in the peace that the universe scarcely gives? Do you have any idea how lucky you are?!”

“That’s exactly why I have to go! Don’t you understand that! I love living here. But some people aren’t as lucky. You know that more than anyone in this village buir. Mum knows it too.”

It went deadly quiet for a moment. 

“I did not bring you this life...risked everything with my culture, my creed, just so you could selfishly throw it away...I don’t want you to die like my parents did Ad’ika.”

I didn’t say it then but...that was another reason you needed to go. To make your ancestors and those Mandalorians who came before your father proud. 

It was the one time Din Djarin had let his guard down.

You crept away into the night, leaving only a kiss on your little (in size) brother’s brow and a note next to your mother’s tools.

It was the best way you could’ve said goodbye. 

“I am one with the force and the force is with me...This is the way.” 

---

Two whole weeks later I found yourself on a planet that was the polar opposite of what I was used to. So much technology that I didn’t know the names of, ships, speeders, weapons and people. 

It was strange how seeing so many people made you euphoric at the time. I was only a rookie, and I had never left home before. Of course I was nervous. 

There was so much to learn! Keeping up with the resistance is what scared you, what if they threw you out? You had trained under your mother’s mechanical know how just to get here but what if-

“Djarin! Y/N!”

“HERE!” You hadn’t realised how loud you had been until all the people turned to look at you funny. Whispers and giggles followed. Maker, this was embarrassing. 

“Good to know you’re here. I’m Poe Dameron by the way. Noticed you weren’t paying attention. You nervous?” Making eye contact with the most gorgeous man you had ever seen was the last thing you had expected. He was a hot shot pilot apparently. You heard a girl giggle behind your head as she winked at him. Oh, give me a break. 

“...A little.”

“Okay well don’t be. You recruited for a reason and according to where you’ve been registered you’re the best mechanic we’ve seen in a long while. Which is why you’ve been assigned to my X-Wing.” 

Jealousy dripped in ugly green buckets. You were quite fond of the colour, with it being the colour of your little brother’s skin. But...it hurt nonetheless. 

“Yes sir.” You whimpered pathetically.

You were doing this for them. Not for some pilot you had only just met. Well...him too. 

---

Crashing into General Leia Organa with heaps of your paperwork was not how you planned your first day ending.

“Kriffing Bantha fodder! Why don’t you watch where you’re-Oh my god you’re Princess Leia.” 

To say you had been absolutely obsessed with her when you were younger was an understatement. 

She reminded you of your mother in so many ways it hurt to look at her.

Which is why you were so confused when she touched your cheek only to find yourself crying at just the sight of her. 

---

“So...you left on bad terms with not only your father, but your family in general. Even if your mother never found out?”

“I’m worried that it’ll put a strain on my parents relationship with each other more than anything...I can’t contact them or write. It’s too risky.”

“Your father taught you well.” 

“Wait...you know who my father is?”

“Many people have heard of the Mandalorian that killed Moff Gideon with the dark saber. Some have speculated that it was a myth...now I can see that it wasn’t since you are living proof of what Mandalorians can create.”

“My mother was never a Mandalorian. She was a Mechanic through and through...she just happened to be thrown into motherhood twice along the way.” you joked bitterly.

Your parents had told you the tales of Moff Gideon. It was a fairytale that had been shrouded in mystery. Something you weren’t expecting to hear from the two people you admired the most. 

“I love my family. That’s all Mandalorians care about. Their clan and their people as a whole. I’ve neglected that part of myself for far too long. We had to hide to be safe. It made me angry. I told my dad I was going to leave the night before I did. He said no...I went anyway. It doesn’t matter what he thinks...not right now. I have to put what matters to me in this universe first.”

“Hmm...you sound a lot like a young jedi knight i used to know.” 

“Are you talking about Master Luke Skywalker?” You were getting excited now. 

“No...one of his students he took for a very brief period. You see the child was the same species as Master Yoda but he was already fifty years old. A relationship where a padawan is already older than their teacher? That...now that is strange.” Leia giggled to herself. 

Everytime you glanced at her all you could see were fragments of your own mother. You understood why everyone here adored her. Why she was in command whilst others who thought they deserved it, weren’t.

She was a mother through and through. Whether to her own child or not, you knew she didn’t realise this one fact alone. 

“You remind me of my buir. She has many similar features...not the same just, similar.” 

“I’m honoured you think of me that way Djarin. But I believe that there is an anxious pilot waiting for you in the hangar.” 

“Kriff! Thank you for the Caff General. It's a lot different to what I’m used to but it’s a welcome change.” Getting this out in one breath you bowed somewhat awkwardly before running out of the canteen. 

---

“Y’know you’re strange right?”

“Kriff!” Banging your head on the bottom of Poe’s X-Wing was not how you wanted this to pan out. 

“You’re annoying, did you know that?”

Watching his face was like observing a painting, depending on your interpretation and the angle the motions you saw were just-

“Mesh’la.”

“What...is that some weird curse word or somethin’?” 

“Uh! No, I mean, yes! I mean...maybe.” scratching the back of your neck, you attempted to soothe the bump that was forming there. That was going to be a little ray of sunshine to wake up to tomorrow morning. 

“Hey, let me take a look at that.” Turning around somewhat hesitantly. You let Poe take a look at your ‘wound’. 

“Yikes, looks like a lot of blood.” 

“What!” 

“I’m kidding. It was a joke to get you less stressed out...obviously it didn’t work.”

“Sorry...I’m just anxious, I guess.” 

“Wanna talk about it? My X-wing is in great shape right now by the way, my old mech checked her out before you shipped in. He was a great guy but...he was one of a handful we lost.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Hey it’s okay. Death is a part of life, unfortunately I learnt that at a tender young age.”

“What happened? ...if you don’t  mind me asking that is.” 

“...My mother, she was a pilot just like me. She fought for what she believed in and yet, she died anyway. It hurts but...I fight because of what my parents did.”

“No way! Me too! My parents took a back seat compared to what the resistance did back in the day but my Dad was a total badass and my mum...well, my mum was a slave.” 

The look of shock you saw on Poe’s face was something you mistook for awkwardness. 

“I’m sorry if I overstepped Captain Dameron.” 

“Nah, you did the complete opposite actually...we’re gonna spend a lot of time together for god knows how long so it’s good that we get the emotional baggage out of the way first.”

The smile he gave you made your knees turn to jelly. 

You didn’t know then how taken Poe already was with you, He thought you were cute, but he underestimated how much of a badass you really were. The knowledge of your parents though...he tucked that away for safe keeping right next to the ring that sat against his heart. 

Little did he know then how much emotional baggage you really had...

---

-3 YEARS LATER-

“DJARIN WE NEED YOU IN MEDICAL STAT!” 

“DON’T YELL AT ME LIKE I’M ONE OF YOUR NURSES MCLAGGEN! I CAN HANDLE IT!”

“I KNOW THAT, THAT’S WHY WE NEED YOU!”

Although you admired your crew mates sometimes you wanted to rip off their kriffin’ heads. 

Everyone was stressed lately. All three of the golden trio had vanished, out of sight, out of mind. And to make matters worse, Leia was just as worried as you were. 

“Commander Djarin!”

“Poe!” Running to your best friend in the whole freaking universe, you wrapped him in the biggest hug you could muster. You had been so worried about him. 

“I missed you! I was so worried...I didn’t know what to think…” Shame and guilt crept into your very being as Poe stood before you, he was carrying a very solemn aura. Something bad had just happened. You could feel it all around you now. People were sobbing in the courtyard. 

Everyone was upset...but that could only mean-

“No...No, don’t you dare tell me she’s gone.”

“Y/N I’m sorry.” Poe was a mess, just like you.

He held you in his arms as you screamed in agony until nightfall. 

---

“I’m never gonna be good enough for this. Not like she was.” 

Hearing Poe go through the worst thing he had ever faced once again broke your heart tenfold. More than yours was breaking already. 

“Poe Dameron, you listen to me and listen well okay?” 

Every part of his being was hyper focused on you as you said these next words, it’s like you were commanding them into his brain. 

“Leia loved you. She may have never said it out loud but she said it in the ways any mother would. She was the mother of the resistance sure but she had a real soft spot for you after everything with...Ben.”

Comparing Poe to Kylo Ren was a painful business but everything about grief was painful, it made you focus on the good and the bad. 

“Family is more than blood. That’s what my father’s creed taught me. I will never forget it as long as I live. When this is all over and he’s not going to put a knife through my chest just for leaving I’ll introduce you. Hell, I’d drag you back to my home planet right now if i could...you would love it.” 

“I’m sure I would...Mesh’la.”

“...What did you just call me?”

“I got that right didn’t I? It’s not an insult, it’s a compliment? I thought it meant beautiful I was just guessing off interpretation I didn’t read any mmph-”

You had cut him off by slamming your lips onto his. Sure, it was inappropriate to make out in front of both your mother figure’s corpse but...you knew by now that many times she had told you to tell him how you truly felt when it came to war?

It was now or never. 

She had that with Han Solo and in the blink of an eye he had left. 

But Poe? Poe had been your constant throughout all of this, he loved you in ways you could only imagine and you loved him. Even if the kiss ended up not meaning anything...you knew you would never regret it as long as you live. 

“Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum Poe Dameron.”

“WHA- what, um, ahem, does uh, that mean?” You had flustered him, you felt pride in your very soul for doing that. 

But Damn if his tousled hair didn’t like so fine? Maybe it was the fact you had just clawed your fingers through it like the world was ending...but in a way it kind of was. 

“I will keep you in my heart forever...that’s the Mandalorian way of saying I love you Poe Dameron.” 

“Oh...MANDO’A!” 

You leapt back at this, not the reaction you were hoping for. But it was so ardently Poe you couldn’t help the grin on your face. 

“What about it?”

“That’s your culture! Your language! That’s why you told me your father is such a bad-...ass”

“There a reason you’re just saying ‘ass’ to yourself, General?”

“Oh bantha fodder...I’m gonna have to ask for your father’s blessing to marry you by talking to a Mandalorian?” 

An audible gasp snapped him out of his stupor.

“You...you were gonna propose?”

“Of course.”

The painting had returned. The painting you kept in your heart and sang to every day. The one you comforted when he had nightmares, no matter how close to your body he was, you knew by that point your friendship was long gone. 

You had never put a label on it...but in a way, you had always been each other’s ‘one’.

And now...He was asking you to be his riduur?

“Leia convinced me. She said if I didn’t buckle up and saw what was right in front of me throughout this whole war. I would've killed myself over my love for you.” Confirming that he was in fact, in love with you, was a breath of fresh air. 

Even if the jungle you had been camped out in for months on end had changed your temperament you couldn’t help the tears welling up in not just your eyes but Poe’s as well. 

“Y/N Kuill Djarin. I love you so damn much it hurts to leave you every time I ran to that hangar. I knew everytime I left it could’ve been the last time and it scared me. Because who was I going to be if I never found my forever girl? My mom told me that much before she passed…” 

Shara Bey’s ring. The fact that he had carried the ring of his deceased mother around for years on end just to be close to her made your heart simultaneously sing and cry. 

Not only because the ring was now yours to keep. 

But so was the man who gave it to you. 

That night, before the final battle, your hearts beat as one.

---

You had won.

Everyone had celebrated, you both drank so much that when you woke up in bed together the next day, despite the crippling twin headaches, all the two of you could do was laugh. 

“I mean...if we think about logically it was only a matter of time before one of us pounced on the other?” You offered into the awkward harmony you had both fallen into. 

“Yeah but I just really wanna know...I didn’t hurt you right?” 

You had never told him, but Poe knew just by the way you had gotten up to get some water, despite the fact he was ready for round two almost instantly due to how the sheets bunched and fell from your figure, that you were a virgin. 

But just from the simple process of illumination of what little you had told him of your life before the Resistance or BP he liked to call it (before Poe), you preferred BB (before Beeps), he knew you had never been in a relationship. Not properly anyway. 

Not with him. 

In a way the thought of being your first filled him with joy...but every time he had imagined it he had expected to be a gentleman, rose petals, lilies, gods, any flowers he could’ve found in that blasted rainforest would’ve been perfect! 

What he didn’t understand was how the drink had addled his brain so drastically that he had just pounced like a feral animal on his precious girl. He wanted to take your innocence on your wedding night (Your engagement hadn’t yet been announced to the Resistance as you both wanted to wait for the onslaught of weddings to die down before the wedding of the century was even announced so in a way, your relationship as fiance’s technically still didn't exist). 

And yet...you realised something during the haze and the blur of everything Poe and you last night. 

You had made a new home here, a life for yourself...and it was good. 

You had done exactly what your parents did and more.

So of course you were emotional. I mean, you two hadn’t even used protection!

Although...you didn’t share this with Poe the thought of a little version of you and him growing within you? It set your heart on fire. So when you kissed him with the passion of a thousand thunderstorms, you didn’t hesitate to return the favour of last night...and then some. 

---

Shuffling into the cantina had never felt so awkward in all of your three years here. You were 21 years of age now. People hooked up all the time and it’s not like you broadcasted your virginity to anyone here.

That was until the green bundle of joy himself practically flew into your arms. 

“Ad’ika?!” Your exclamation panicked Poe, his hand immediately going to your waist as he inspected the creature wrapped around your neck. BB8 whirled in Ad’ika’s wake, circling the figure of 8’s around the both of you. 

“What, they did?” Ad’ika looked up at you like you had grown three heads. Sure, he looked like a kid. But he was now roughly 90 years old. He was a fully grown child now. You still blushed like a little girl apparently as he continuously giggled into your neck.

“Not important right now buddy. Where are our buirs?” You muttered tearfully. Today had turned into a whole other kind of day. 

“C’MON GUYS HURRY UP I’VE NEVER SEEN A REAL LIFE MANDALORIAN BEFORE!!” Seeing friends of yours running past only to be met with the vision of your buirs brought you the relief that no bacta patch (or in this one specific case casual sex???) could ever give. 

Your mother was vision as always and Poe confirmed it.

“Y/N...I knew the day I first met you that you were beautiful but the fact that your mother looks almost exactly like you right now scares me.” 

“Poe, whatever you do don’t say anything inappropriate around my Da, he won’t appreciate it, at all.” 

Even though you were smiling like crazy, Poe knew you were being deadly serious. You didn’t want anything to ruin today. 

Besides, there was only one reason your buirs were wearing their armor once more. Your father was wearing all of his Mandalorian armor, scuffed and slightly dusty with age (he had clearly left in a hurry) but your mother was wearing her long forgotten robes. Once she was planning on giving to you one day. You realised she looks a lot like Rey right now. 

The dark saber she carried at her side confirmed it. 

But her eyes meeting yours from across the room as she spotted her daughter reunited with your son, caused both you and Poe to tear up once more as she grabbed her Riduur’s hand. 

“Excuse us.” Polite as always, she waited for no one as she made her way to you and only you as she almost tripped over poor Beeps in the process. 

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

You both laughed a similar laugh that any one around would recognise. It was like Leia had come home but you all knew she was gone...she was never truly gone. She lived on through each and everything the resistance had touched. 

Including you...and Poe.

Din and your mother.

Ad’ika...and Luke Skywalker.

Your mother the day she killed Moff Gideon with a light saber that she did not know she had the untaught skills to possess.

It was like strings were tangling and wrapping and strangling…

Except it was beautiful.

“We missed you so much Ad’ika.”

Looking into the eyes of your buir, his scarred and worn face now riddled with crow’s feet from the happiness you had placed there. 

It was home. 

---

Drums beating. Heart pounding. Numerous friends and family to you and to Poe squabbling over what hairstyle you would wear. 

Today was the big day. Surprisingly you had announced it a week ago. 

After everything that had happened, when your father showed up, Poe asked right on the spot if he could marry you. Not caring that he had to prove himself in the trials of Mandalore. 

In his heart he had become one with your clan. He had become a son in your father’s eyes, another foundling that had just found his way here. 

“I know men aren’t technically allowed to be in the chamber, but I just had to meet my future daughter-in-law before the big day.” Your breath catching in your throat, your eyes met those of a man you recognised.

Although you had never met it’s like you had a scrapbook in your mind or all the stories, all the little details of what Poe’s Dad looked like. 

He was more handsome than you originally thought, but that was a given seeing as it was the exact same as when you met Poe himself. 

“Nervous?”

“Surprisingly...not at all.”

“Poe...wanted me to give you this.”

A glance of the ring gave you a flicker of a moment of self-doubt. He would never have his own Dad break things off...would he? 

“Don’t worry. It’s a family thing you know, for father’s to give away their daughter’s. I asked your mother but I had no idea that she was from the tribe of many mothers.” Giggling to yourself at that line, you realised where you had got your spirit from. 

Leia was here with her own family today, you could feel it in your bones.

“It’s sweet of you to ask at all when we have never even properly met.” 

“Ah, you’re wrong there, in a way we have. Poe told me so much about you I began to cry before the wedding even started. Good thing he told me at the bachelor party.” 

Raising an incredulous brow at him, you wondered a silent question. 

“It was just me and him for most of the night before drinks with his friends. Don’t worry, Poe’s not that kind of man.” Smiling to yourself, you knew he was right. You also knew this meant Poe had a terrible influence of friends. You loved them all. Of course Poe asked Finn to be his best man and you asked Rey to be your maid of honour.

They wanted everything to be perfect. 

Although a week made everyone go a bit stir crazy. Someone even came up with the rule that as long as we were all staying on this damn jungle planet. We might as well have a week in between each one to plan. 

You can’t remember how many bridezillas had attacked you over Poe Dameron in your dreams. 

In reality everyone was happy for you, in their minds, if they thought about it you were the perfect match for Poe in each and every way. 

Wait ‘til they found out how short the actual ceremony was. 

“Anyway, Shara, god's rest her soul, would’ve given you this if she were here, but I’m here to tell the tale so I’m giving it to you to wear on the chain she gave him when he was little.”

Feeling tears well up in sympathy for the father and son duo, you couldn’t help but ask.

“I’m getting married so I need to know. How did you ever learn to cope with the pain of losing someone that close to you?”

“Simple...I didn’t. Poe was angry for years. Not just at the world but at the system. It’s why he felt he had no choice but to become a spice runner. The system wouldn’t let him win and he was exhausted from the guilt and the grief. I couldn’t bring myself to reprimand him.” 

Remembering something your mother said to you long ago...you knew you had to tell your future father in law something that had been on the backburner for the last few days of preparation. 

“There’s one small detail in all of this that you should know Kes.”

“What’s that…”

“...I’m pregnant.”

“Goodness! How? Wait no, I know how what I meant was when?”

“About a month ago now?” It was before my parents' surprise visit and Poe dropped the bomb on everyone that he intended to marry me. 

“Let me guess, he asked for your Dad’s blessing?”

“Well...yeah.”

“Think of them as an early wedding present.”

“Thanks. Although at least this means I can get out of consummating the marriage.” Laughing nervously, Kes was about to say something else when the door creaked open once more. 

“...Wow.” 

“Hi Dad.” 

“Um..sorry but I’m guessing your Poe’s father Kes?” 

“Yeah, Heard a lot 'bout you and your daughter over the years.” 

Smiling to yourself, you let them chat as your Mother crept from behind your father’s ceremonial cape (It had a red inner lining and fur lining the top, don’t ask) She looked just as radiant as you did. 

“My daughter.” 

“Hi Mum.” 

“Did none of your friends fix up your hair?”

“We couldn’t decide on a style…”

Sadly you knew your time to prepare was drawing to a close, you needed to be as ready as you were when repairing the X-Wings.

“How about...I do your hair like my mother did for me?” 

Tearing up at the mention of your grandmother, god's rest her soul, you wished she were here to see this. 

“Please.” ---

Poe was nervous. No doubt. Finn was panicking and Rey wasn’t helping with all the screaming and waving around the chairs and tables she was doing by abusing the force just to get things done quickly. 

Today...was a mess.

But it was the best kind of mess. 

Jokingly, Finn had put a bow tie made for large Loth Cat’s around Beep’s neck. Poe had agreed that he had never looked so dapper. What they didn’t expect was your Dad’s distaste for droids and his dry humor. 

Poe knew why though, so he didn’t get angry or throw a fit like the first time you met BB8 and was scared to shit. 

It was strange that you had never met a proper droid before that day. 

And wow, now he was marrying you. Time flew, so quickly. 

To break the ice Poe had asked Din the story behind Ad’ika. In a quick attempt to get to his daughter before the ceremony took place, people filing in as he talked and avidly listening, he told the story of how he had come across the beauty that was/is your mother, how he met Ad’ika, how he had saved his life. Why Poe had discovered the secret tattoo of a mudhorn on your back. One that you had received from your Auntie Cara Dune you added fondly. 

Who he would be meeting for the first time today. 

The jungle had never looked so beautiful. You had both decided that the wedding would take place around dusk on the last night of summer, when it was not too humid and yet hot enough that the ceremonial wear had to be adapted to the heat. 

Din had graciously warned Poe about Mandolorian traditional wedding dresses and how your mother had worked night and day to make your dress perfect. Poe quickly learned that your mother was a jack of all trades. 

This was his family now. Forever and always. 

A crescendo began as the miscellaneous Mandalorians dotted around the room beat the traditional drums to a high and demanding tune, light glinting off their multi-coloured helms dancing in the setting sunlight. With the Fur pressing against Poe’s throat he had jokingly said he looked like a king. 

When Din answered back saying since he was a clan leader he technically was choked on his own spit. 

Her fiance, the love of his life, had been a princess in disguise this whole freaking time. 

It stuck in the back of his mind as the music grew too demanding, but as gasps filled the room he couldn’t help looking up. 

Your mother was walking you down the aisle, your dresses looking not so similar yet similar enough that anyone and everyone knew you were one and the same, yet different. 

But you, Gods above, you. 

You looked like a princess. 

Beskar cladded your upper arms, two feathers decorated your hair, matching braids flowing down your neck as your squeezed your mother’s arm in excitement upon spotting your future Riduur. 

You had both made it out alive. And happy. 

Not everyone had been so lucky, but you were doing this for them. To keep their memory alive. 

And as Poe attempted to make love to you that night and you jokingly told him that traditionally you can’t touch the bride for another week if she has already fallen pregnant.

Let’s just say he got a matching bruise on his head from the first time you met.

Yeah, it was a mess.

But you were both finally home.

[firstofficerwiggles]

Signed, Sealed, Delivered (T rated)

Sequel to Sending a Message (link)

Din Djarin x Female Reader

Rating: T (I orginally wrote this as 18+, so if you prefer the smut version, click here)

Warnings: There is kissing and touching, but nothing too descriptive in this version.

Summary: Din and the reader confess their feelings and then they make-out, there’s not a lot of plot here, just a lot of fluff

Word count: approx. 2300

Author’s Note: This is a continuation of Sending a Message; I’ve included the ending lines of that fic here to start us off. This is only my second fic, so be gentle. Timelinewise with the show, this is some point between season 1 and 2 and the Razor Crest is still with us (RIP Space Honda Civic). Also, I’m going with the relaxed interpretation of the helmet rules that as long as you can’t see him, Din can take off the helmet. I hope you like it!

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

“Thank you, for doing… for helping me out,” you feel rather flustered and it’s making you babble, “back there.” “I just couldn’t get those guys to bug off.”

“It was my pleasure,” he responds rather cheekily, “I figured I was going to get into a bar brawl, but I liked your idea a hell of a lot better.” He tilts his helmet at you and you can swear that you can hear the smile in his voice.

“Well, thank you, again” you say softly. He steps closer to you and you’re practically touching him as he looks down at you and says with a chuckle, “Any time you need me to feel you up again, just let me know.”

And before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “I will.”

He laughs and tips his head down to you, “Message received.”

This whole evening has really been something. What started out as a little ploy to act like you and Din were a couple in order to stop those men from hitting on you, had quickly turned into you practically blurting out your feelings for him. But now, he’s teasing, dare you say, flirtatious, making you flustered. Is he actually interested in you? You would love to hope it were true, but he’s probably just laughing because this situation is quite funny, I mean you made him, practically demanded, he put his hand up your skirt in a crowded cantina and in front of the kid. Who does that? You can’t help but chuckle along with him. It breaks the tension of the moment and you decide it really is time to let him have some privacy and wind down from the day. You give Din a smile and a small nod before you turn to go when he reaches out and takes your arm, stopping you.

“What were you going to say?” he inquires.

“Nothing,” you reply, confused.

“No, I mean back at the cantina, before the waiter interrupted…” he explains, “it felt like you wanted to tell me something?” His voice is softer now, no longer teasing.

Oh? Oh! you remember that moment, Din’s hand caressing your thigh, turning you on, you moaning his name and wishing that he wouldn’t stop, that it was all true, and that you really were his.

“Oh, I… it wasn’t, it doesn’t matter…” you try to play it off, too nervous to tell him what you were really thinking.

“What was it?” he really wants to know.

“I--” you don’t know what to say, you just stare at the black visor in his helmet, all words escaping you.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?” he says gently, “I want you to know you can always trust me.” He is still holding your arm, but now he slides his hand down to yours and gives it a gentle squeeze.

“I do trust you, but, maybe some things are better left unsaid.” You’re afraid that if you tell him the truth, it could ruin your friendship. You look down, worried the emotion in your eyes will give you away.

“I think I want to hear it,” Din urges you, tenderly, “I think I need to hear you say it.” He steps closer to you, brushes a tendril of your hair off your face, and gently strokes your cheek. His hand stops on your chin and tips your face up so he can look in your eyes.

And you can’t help but tell him the truth, “I wanted to tell you how much I was enjoying it, enjoying you touching me, how I didn’t want it to stop, and how I wanted it to be real, to really be yours.” The words come out in a breathless rush of emotion.

Din feels a warmness permeate his chest at your words and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. He’s been imagining this moment for a while now, wanting to know if you have feelings for him and wanting to try to show you how he feels. But these emotions are new to him and he has been at a loss for how to say something or do something. He needed you to make the first move, to guide him before he screwed it all up. In the past, his romantic interactions with women, if you can call them that, have been brief sexual liaisons lasting only a couple of hours at the most. With you though, he knows this is something more, he wants it to be something more. Yet, he feels like an awkward, gawky teenager trying to express himself around you. Your words give him confidence though and he tells you,

“It was real to me,” his voice sounding huskier than usual “I didn’t have to pretend at all.”  

“You didn’t?” you sound surprised, “I mean, you, wanted to do that?”

He chuckles softly, “Did I want to touch you? Hell, yes. I’ve wanted to touch you practically since the moment we met,” he confesses. “It’s not how I imagined it happening, but I’m glad it did.” He pauses for a moment and shuffles on his feet a bit. He has had years of intense training, but would it have killed them to add in a few lessons on how to talk to women? At least you’re smiling at him, so you’re clearly pleased with his words. He plows on because he wants you to understand this isn’t just about lust, “It’s more than just wanting to touch you though, I want to be close to you, to share more with you, because I can talk to you, and you listen, you understand me, and you’re so beautiful.” Oh Maker, he’s babbling like a nitwit.

Thankfully for Din’s sake, you don’t care that his words aren’t smooth, and you jump in before he can panic too much, “Din, I want that too,” you tell him your face lighting up with joy, “I care for you so much.” You take his other hand in yours and give them both a light squeeze to punctuate your words.

Din is quiet for a moment but squeezes your hands in response and then says, “I’m smiling. I know you can’t see it, but would you like to feel it?”

“How?” you’re curious and excited about the prospect.

“How do you feel about the dark?” he asks more confident now.

You think about what he’s implying, and you say rather flirtatiously, “I like the dark.”

“Let’s get more comfortable, first.” Din has a plan of action now and he feels more at ease. Still holding your hand, he leads you over to your sleeping area where you have a semblance of a ‘room’ with some storage crates pushed up against one of the walls of the ship acting as chairs. You watch as he removes his cape, gloves, and armor, placing everything in a neat pile on top of one of the crates, but he leaves on his helmet and one of his vambraces. He then sits down on the other crate, tilts his helmet at you, and then pats his lap suggestively. You let out a small laugh, he’s so cute, and then eagerly settle yourself on his lap again. Without all the beskar, he’s much warmer and now you can feel his body even though he’s still wearing his protective clothing. He seems content just to hold you for a moment as you let yourself relax in his arms.

“Ready for the dark?” he asks.

“Mmm, yes,” you reply. He presses a few buttons on his vambrace and you are plunged into almost total darkness; there is only a tiny bit of ambient light from a few of the glowing buttons on the ship, but at most all you can see are shadowy figures even as your eyes adjust. He has to let go of you for a moment, and you sit up a little, giving him space to move. You can hear the shuffling of him removing his vambrace and then, the helmet. One of his arms wraps around you again, pulling you back against his broad chest and his other reaches down to find your hand. You gasp a little at the touch of his bare hand; it’s softer than you would have thought and much warmer without the glove. He brings your hand up to his face letting you caress his jawline.

“Can you feel that I’m smiling?” Din’s voice sounds different without the modulator but you love it because you can hear the emotion in his voice more clearly. You let your hands wander to his cheeks where you can feel a dimple on one side, then, you move towards his mouth and gently run your fingertips along his lips.

“Yes, I can. I’m glad that you’re smiling, you deserve to be happy,” you tell him.

“You make me happy,” he says and you can feel his smile widen.

“I can also tell that you have a mustache and some sexy scruff on your jaw,” you say playfully as you resume your exploration of his face.

He chuckles at that, “I can always shave if you prefer.”

“No, no, I like it.”

You let your hands wander into his hair around the back of his neck feeling how thick and soft his hair is. “You have curly hair,” you say with delight, “I like that too.” He laughs again, amused by your pleasure at discovering more about him. You play with the curls at the base of his neck and slowly bring his head closer to yours.

“May I kiss you?” Din whispers against your lips.

“Yes,” you breathe, and then you feel him pull you closer and gently touch his lips to yours. His kiss is tender and slow at first, and he moves his lips with yours in a delicate dance. You sigh into him and as you open your mouth, he follows and deepens the kiss. You feel his tongue brush over yours and it ignites a spark within you. You entwine your fingers into his curls and kiss him back passionately, showing him the depth of your feelings. He kisses you until both of you are breathless and panting. He begins to let his hands wander, stroking your back with one and bringing the other up to caress your neck. His lips follow his hand as he places soft kisses down the column of your neck. You let your own hands explore, running them over his well muscled shoulders and back.

“You’re so strong,” you say softly to him, and you can feel his lips pull into a smile against your skin. He doesn’t say anything but returns to your lips and kisses you intensely, showing you how pleased he is with your praise.

“Tell me what you want me to do,” Din says his voice taking on a sensual tone. He has a desire to recreate the scene in the cantina.

“I want you to touch me,” you respond, “Be handsy again,” you flirt with him.

“Gladly.” He brings his hand up to the exposed skin of your upper chest and lets his fingers skim near the neckline of your dress, only this time your feel his warm fingertips instead of his glove. It feels so good to have his hands on you, caressing and fondling you softly. It’s even better than in the cantina because now you can touch him too without the armor in the way. He returns his mouth to your neck kissing and nibbling the delicate skin there. It makes you moan out his name, but this time you’re not worried about letting him hear how much you enjoy his touch.

His hand travels lower now, down to your legs, and he drags his fingertips over them lightly in a playful manner until he reaches the hem of your skirt, “What should I do now?” he muses.

“Din,” is all that you can say, slightly exasperated.

“Hmm? What was that?” he kisses the tip of your nose.

“Din, please” you breathe out.

“Please what? What would you like me to do?” he places a kiss in the hollow of your throat.

“Please put your hand up my skirt,” you beg him.

“I thought you’d never ask,” he says with a chuckle.

“You’re driving me crazy with all of this teasing,” you tell him.

“Good,” he responds as he caresses his way up your leg the same way he did in the cantina, making you gasp and tremble slightly. You shift on his lap and feel the evidence of his desire for you, and you smile to yourself knowing that he’s as into this as you are.

“Din, this is has been all about what I want,” you say, “but I want to know what you want.”

“I just want to be with you and know that you are mine,” he answers you making your heart flutter at his romantic words. You lean in to kiss him deeply in response before pulling back to tell him, “I want that too.”

“I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad those guys were hitting on you,” Din says with a snicker, “I should have taken you to more cantinas.”

You chuckle with him, “It’s not your typical romantic beginning, I suppose,” you reply, “but if that’s what it took to get you to really be mine, I won’t complain.”

“I’ll let you in on a little secret,” Din says, “I was already yours,” and you can hear the smile in his voice again.

“Maybe so, but now, I know that you’re mine and I’m going to make sure that everyone else knows it too.”

“Sending more messages?” Din chuckles, “I’ll be happy to help you deliver them.”

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Thank you for reading!