#beskar kisses

[kurlyfrasier]

Beskar Kisses: Bleeding Heart (An Epilogue) - Part 1

A/N: Honestly, if you've gotten this far in the Mand'alor'Kar'ta series, I'm sure you know what's going on lol

Summary: Din has been pulling away from Reader. Reader decides to take things in her own hands to prove her love to him: by finding the bleeding heart.

Warnings: kidnapping? violence?

Word Count: 2200-ish

Breathing in a lungful of fresh air, you hopped off the ship, excited to have reached your destination without the Protectors finding you. Or Bo. Or Din. Especially Din, but you knew you didn’t have long.

But freedom felt oh, so, good. 

With just the green field before you, you ran. Because you could. Because, before he found you, before you fell in love, before you became more than you ever expected to be, you couldn’t run. It wasn’t allowed. You always did what you were told. And as the wife of the Mand’alor, you could. Nothing could harm you. You were protected by the scariest man known in the galaxy. You couldn’t be touched.

It was a high that you loved.

A high that you planned on taking advantage of.

You laughed, loud and free with nobody to see. With nobody to judge you or your husband.

The breeze blew through your hair, light and only a little bit chilly. You should’ve brought your favorite wrap, but you didn’t want to cause a stir, what with the wrap having your insignia. 

You were the Kar’ta of Mandalore. And for once, you were alone. No overprotective husband. Not Protectors. No formal armor to wear to a political meeting.

In a bout of recklessness, you shucked your shoes, letting the cool grass soften your steps as you ran and ran and ran.

Oh, how you missed the fresh air of Naboo.

At the top of the hill, you stopped, panting, and looked down at the village below. Beyond the village stood a dormant volcano and blue skies, looking peaceful. A quick pat on your hip proved your favorite knife - the one Din made you with your Mudhorn and Heart insignia on it - hadn’t fallen out of it’s sheathe during your jaunt. It balmed your aching soul, but that didn’t matter. Not when you were here to get Din’s gift. Something to show him that you loved him not because of some old legend that tied you to him, but because your heart sang at the sight of him, mourned him when he wasn’t within sight, cheered when he came home from a long trip. Freeing slaves, finding foundlings, wrecking havoc in general. You heard the stories at each celebratory dinner, wishing there was some way not to worry even when he was right there beside you, holding your hand, safe and sound.

Your husband was as reckless as they came. Though you shouldn’t have been surprised, considering his title. But he was never a title to you. He was human. With fragile bones and soft skin underneath that impenetrable armor. He was your safe haven. Your savior. Your love.

Which brought you to Naboo. To find a Bleeding Heart. From the tales you were told as a girl, Bleeding Hearts could be found in the heart of the lonely volcano by a small village on the planet Naboo. Only those who truly, selflessly love their partner could walk in to retrieve the beating heart of the volcano, hardening into rock once it was plucked free. Then, when given to their love, would it bleed out its lava, rehardening around the heart as it cooled to keep it safe. If their love was mutually true, the lava wouldn’t burn, but if it was a false, selfish love on either side, the lava would consume them both until they were molten into nothing themselves.

You had never told Din about this, especially lately. After years of getting used to your role, of learning to fight and shoot and politic - more for Din’s sake than yours - of falling harder and harder each day you woke up next to him, he had been drifting. Leaving in the early hours of the morning, when before, you would cuddle until someone knocked on your door, forcing you both to acknowledge your duties. Allowing you more alone time, when before, he would hover protectively around you. It would have been suffocating if you hadn’t loved him in return. Now, instead of sparring with you, he would have a guard practice with you, with a hoard of Protectors watching, evaluating, judging. 

Suddenly, he had decided that he forced you into this marriage, that it wasn’t something you chose, that the Force had strung you together without your consent. The Darksaber would roar in idignation. You would assure him he was wrong. You would show him with your touch, your love. Still, in the morning, your bed was cold where he slept and your tears would fall until you had nothing left but to put your helmet on and continue with your day. 

When Din left for his current mission, you ran. Found an old ship nobody used and flew away to the only place you thought would have something that would prove to him that you and him were supposed to be together. That you chose this life with him because you love him, not because of an old legend.

Heart pounding, you stepped toward the village. A quick glance down at yourself proved you looked like a nobody: torn pants, a too baggy shirt - one of Din’s old shirts - no shoes, an almost empty pack on your back. Another pat on your hip and you felt the knife under the itchy shirt. Exhaling a breath you hadn’t known you were holding, you reminded yourself that you would be fine. That Mandalore has been in good standing with most of the galaxy for a few years now. That the Imps had stopped their search for Grogu. That nobody was looking for a way to hurt Din, so you were safe from being kidnapped… again. Relieved by your inner peptalk, you looked up with newfound energy and searched for a kind face to ask about the best trail to the volcano. 

“Excuse me,” you said over a simple wooden fence after passing by the slowing market, people shutting their wares, and filling their hover carts to go back home for the day

“Sorry, dearie,” a short, wrinkled woman stood from her gardening and wobbled closer, holding onto the fence between you both. “What was that? My ears have gone old, you see.”

“I was wondering if you knew of the best trail to the volcano,” you stated, a bit louder than you normally would, thinking her ears weren’t the only thing on her person to have ‘gone old’.

“You here for the Heart?” she squinted up at you through thick, foggy lenses as you nodded. An electric hum filled the air around you, a swirling breeze cut through the thin material you wore, causing goosebumps to rise and your hair to stand on end. “I see,” the woman stated. “You are determined, then?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you said, hoping she would point in the right direction before nightfall. You may have made it to Naboo without the Protectors noticing, but that didn’t mean you had time to dawdle. Mandalorians were quick at catching their prey. Especially when they were led by Din. And you knew that he would be their first point of contact once they had found your room empty. Which was likely before you had even landed.

“Keep going straight through the village and you’ll find a barely used trail, almost hidden, that winds through the forest and leads straight to natural crack that was created when it erupted the first time.”

“The first time?” Your voice pitched higher than usual, not knowing it had ever erupted more than once.

“There have been many who have not truly loved, dearie,” the woman let out a weary sigh, shoulders sagging as though holding a heavy burden as she turned back to garden and teetered away.

You understood the conversation to be over and thanked her, even though it was likely she couldn’t hear, and moved at a steady pace through the village. Lights started shining through the windows of small homes, smoke rose from chimneys as the chill evening started to settle in. 

Shadowed under the trees at the edge of town made it hard to find the trail, but when you did you wasted no time in entering, feeling the clock ticking as your mando’ade started their search. The foliage crunched beneath your bare feet, scratching and bruising them, but you paid it no mind, having been through more pain during your lessons with Din and other vod. Besides, it would be worth it in the end. 

Stopping a few miles in, you brought your pack forward, reaching in and grabbing your canteen of water, taking a sip. Wiping your brow with the hem of your shirt, you put it away then grabbed a ration pack, tore it open and ate as you continued forward. The closer you got to your destination, the warmer it became. Still, you sped up as you continued higher up the mountain, legs burning, until finally, you could see an orange glow up ahead, boosting you. Running, you bursted through the forest, smiling as you sat to rest a minute on the cool dirt before entering the volcano. 

The crack was just that - a crack barely wide enough for you to slip through sideways. Peaking in, you saw a lava river flowing several meters in. Beyond that, you saw nothing. With a long sip of water, you set your pack down, heart pulsing in your ears as you gathered the courage to literally walk through fire.

Think of Din, you reminded yourself, feeling a sense of peace as you brought him to your mind’s eye. With the helmet, like you first met him, standing before you as he spoke to the hotel clerk when he didn’t know your name. The thought brought a smile to your face and you shuffled yourself into the gut of the volcano. 

Of the time he bought you an entire wardrobe, only to forget about undergarments. You breathed out a chuckle, watching as lava rats and lizards scurried in front of you.

When he and Grogu caught you too many frogs to count. You jumped onto a peaking rock in the lava river.

The only time you had seen his armor dirty when he picked you and Grogu up on Tatooine after a two week long hunt. You hopped to the next rock.

The first time you said his name on Firefly Hill. You sqiunted through the light of the lava, finding the beating Bleeding Heart on a burnt, ashy platform, pumping in what you could only call a tree with flaming leaves, its light shining bright then dimming with each pulse. Lava veins twisted around the trunk and its branches pulsed along with it.

Fire filled your lungs.

Din holding the Darksaber as it sung its deadly tune when you were held hostage. 

The fire in your lungs washed out as though you swallowed ice, allowing you to breathe again. Another hop to another stone, each getting smaller as you went until you landed on the platform with the fire tree. Slowly, you moved forward, unsure how you were supposed to handle it. Thinking back on the tale, you knew it wouldn’t burn. Your love for Din was true. Hands shaking, you reached, tugging it gently. The heart was removed without a hitch. Its outermost layer turning to rock, feeling cool to the touch compared to the sweltering heat of the volcano. 

One last thought of Din putting his own armor on you brought you where you had come from, outside of the volcano.

Shaking, with rapid breaths, you put the heart in your pack, adjusting it on your back, and took large swigs of heavenly water, smothering any remaining fire and smoke in your lungs. Slowly, with deep, purposeful breaths, your shaking and rapid pulse slowed. Pausing for a moment to take in the darkness, focusing for any unnatural noises - like Din taught you - and finding none, you started back down the hill at a casual pace, no longer worried about when your Mando’ade would find you now that you got what you came for.

With no more adrenaline rushing through your system, you became sluggish halfway down the mountain. Limbs turned heavy, lids slowed with each blink, steps fumbled, tossing you down the trail until you landed hard against a trunk, knocking the air out of you. 

You moaned, spitting dirt and gunk as you reached up to brush your hair out of your eyes, instead, catching your fingers in a tangle of sticks and twigs, dirt sprinkled in. Slowly, painfully, you picked as many out as you could, taking shallow breaths as you did so. Eventually you pushed yourself into a sitting position against the trunk, hard bark scratching through your thin shirt as you did so. Closing your eyes, you focused your breathing, realizing you had no broken ribs, though likely bruised, you sighed.

“My, my, my,” your eyes popped open to find a light Klatoonian standing above you, arms crossed over his chest. “What do we have here?”

“Looks like a lost little girly, Buv,” a blue Twi’lek peaked out from behind him. Buv, the Klatoonian, rolled his eye, smacking the Twi on the back of the head. “Ouch, what the kark?”

“Grab her, Ulryk,” a human on Buv’s other side gripped you by the arms and pulled you up, forcing you to walk with him. You stumbled, head spinning as he dragged you along, feet throbbing.

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Thanks so much for reading part 1! I hope you enjoyed it!

Tags: @againstacecilia @djarinslove @bxmxtx @takeyour-pants-off @sgt-morgan @readingfan

Want to read more from my Masterlist? Or Mand'alor'Kar'ta?

[mutalune]

my clone culture headcanon is that they have almost no traditional mandalorian ties, they picked up almost nothing culturally/linguistically from the mandalorian trainers, but the one thing they DID get were endearments/affectionate and-or comforting words/etc.

b/c 1) that was the only way the trainers could somewhat express affection for their favorites without getting dinged for being too attached to them since no one there actually spoke mando’a 2) kaminoans would be Unhappy if the clones expressed affection openly so secret language words were the only way to safely verbalize caring and loving, so they picked up on those few kind words VERY quickly

(The way I see it working is that the trainers had favorites, would occasionally say something like “chin up, hang in there, good job kiddo,” and said favorites picked up those terms without actually ever getting Direct Translations of what they mean. So they get the words and some context but have to jumble it together themselves and pronunciation and meaning change the further away it spreads from the original favorites - because all of this is spread in private, quietly, until it grows its own legs in different iterations with different battalions imho

like they know adding -‘ika to a name is affectionate and feels like a diminutive but they don’t know what it means exactly and sometimes plug it into names in grammatically odd ways, so instead of “Trap’ika” you get “Trapper’ika” which sounds more like “Trapperka” when you’re talking fast.)

(i’m just a fan of gentle soft pet names and showing affection quietly and how love finds a way and how the clones can take what little scraps they were given and make it their own)

[jessicas-pi]

So This Was A Little More Angsty Than I Recalled...

We’re probably both going to be bruised black and blue by the time this is over, Ezra thinks, blocking a hard swing and throwing it right back. The sun was setting when they started, and it’s nearly dark now.

Sabine’s eyes glow too gold for comfort in the dusky night. Just like he has every day for the last month, he bites his tongue and holds back his questions.

Hera and Zeb won’t tell him about whatever happened to Sabine on Malachor, Kanan and Okadiah are as lost as Ezra is, and if Ahsoka knows anything, she’s not telling. When Ezra brought it up to Mom and Dad, they just told him to be there for Sabine.

He’s been trying.

Sabine has not been cooperating.

So after a month of being there with no success, Ezra gave up and decided that it was time for some non-optional friendship bonding time, but even his best efforts at finding a so-bad-it’s-good holofilm like they used to watch together, even after making some really good movie snacks, all for her, she sulked and complained the whole time, being so—so—infuriating that before he knew it, they were yelling in each others’ faces about tropes.

Ezra stopped yelling, stopped the film, took her by the arm, dragged her outside into the Atollon landscape, and said that they were going to beat the crap out of each other.

(For Mandalorians, sparring is training, recreation, and even courtship. He figured… maybe it would work as therapy, too?)

He doesn’t feel bad about throwing the first punch, because she hit back twice as hard. Ezra thinks his lip is split from a hard hit to the front of his helmet, and Sabine’s knuckles are scraped raw and bloody. They circle each other, slower now than when they started. Her hair has blown out of her braid and sticks to her face in the heat.

It’s a little bit pretty, but now definitely isn’t the right time to think about that.

Sabine rolls one shoulder—he thinks it’s where he landed a decent punch.

“Had enough, tin can?” she demands, but the tension has started to drain from her body and she sounds a little closer to playful than he thought she could ever be again.

“Not if you’ve still got that attitude, wizard girl.”

“You’re gonna regret that,” Sabine warns. She settles into a stance, rocking a little, coiled like a spring.

“Probably,” Ezra agrees.

She draws a breath, and Ezra must have blinked or something, because in the space of an instant, she’s flown at him. He can barely see her in the dark and even the night vision in his helmet doesn’t help.

But he has a split second of advantage. In pure chance, she overextends, and he slams into her, sending them both tumbling through the Atollon dust.

She’s up on her feet again right away—or at least she would be, but Ezra snags her wrist, and drags her back down, flipping over so she’s neatly pinned beneath him.

All he needs is a knife to hold to her throat and it would be a near-perfect replica of the scene in the holofilm that started their stupid fight in the first place.

Sabine doesn’t say anything. She just lies on her back in the dust, looking up at him with the eyes that always seemed to see through his mask, but now they don’t look like they’re seeing anything. He hopes she’s processing her emotions and not disassociating.

Ezra is about to move off of her when something catches his eye, and he brushes some of her hair away from her face. It clings—not with sweat, but with blood. There’s a cut on her cheek.

“Did I hurt you?” he breathes, not sure what he’s even saying, and he draws away.

Flying up, her hand seizes his wrist, gripping painfully tight, even as her sharpening gaze fixes right where his eyes would be.

Ezra swallows dryly. The look she gives him is making him feel a thousand things that he doesn’t really want to sort out, now or ever.

“Sabine?” he asks. “What…”

He trails off. Her thumb slides to the little space between his glove and his sleeve, pulling the cloth back. Never looking away from his face, she pulls his arm up and softly kisses the pulse of his wrist.

“You’re dangerous, Ezra,” she smiles, breath on his skin.

Then, like the Spectre she is, Sabine is gone.

[criticalfai1ure]

thinking abt jedi!bernie and her duty and how she takes it Very seriously when her master takes her on as padawan and how, if order 66 didn’t happen, she would’ve been on the cusp of recognising that maybe not *all* the jedi rules need to be followed to a T but how running for her life set her back a handful of years re: moral self-exploration.

thinking abt how the padawans and younglings that survived the purge are probably more likely than not to form those attachments over time / when they’re able to stop running long enough to Breathe.

[freakrenaissance]

This is soooo sweet! I'd totally fake sleep & wander over there to kiss that helmet. That way you could brush it off if he freaks out 😆 test them waters 😏

But I love this idea! Just means subconsciously it's always been what you wanted, & in your sleepy haze, it just takes over 🥰 such a great fic!

Heyyy could you do Din Djarin imagine where you make it a habit to kiss Grogu’s head before he goes to sleep and one night you accidentally kiss Din’s helmet? Xoxo

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~𝕯𝖎𝖓 𝕯𝖏𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓 Reacting To His Darling Kissing His Helmet~

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SINCE IT'S MANDO DAY I AM LEGALLY REQUIRED TO DO THIS ONE :D THIS IS SO PRECIOUS THANK YOU

~Enjoy~

★★★★

𝕯𝖎𝖓 𝕯𝖏𝖆𝖗𝖎𝖓

★★★★

~He thinks it's so precious that you kiss the kid's head every night before he goes to sleep.

~The man's heart melts in his chest everytime he witnesses it, and the way Grogu reacts with a little happy coo at you makes Din want to laugh and cry at the same time, it's so adorable. He's so happy his helmet hides how overjoyed and emotional he looks.

~You'd have to be very tired and half asleep to mistake Din for Grogu, so let's say it's the type of tired where your eyes aren't even open and your jaw is practically slack, but you're still trying to function.

~Din's wondering why you're approaching him so closely, but he doesn't mind it. Might just give a little "hey-"

~But he stops short when you kiss his helmet.

~While he couldn't feel it on his skin, he could hear the small "mwah" of your lips against his helmet, and he freezes. It's confirmed to him that you kissed him, because you skipped Grogu's kiss that night, so he realizes you must've been so tired that you completely had mistaken him to be Grogu.

~He won't say anything about it, but he'll definitely be thinking about it for a while, feeling a bit flustered over it. He also thought it was pretty cute that you were so tired that you just walked over there with your eyes basically shut and kissed him while half asleep.

~Eventually if he gains the confidence to say this, he'll make a joke like "Where's mine?" when you kiss Grogu.

~Now you can kiss him goodnight, too :D

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~Love, PinkBoots

[mellowswriting]

new perspective

pairing || Din Djarin x f!Reader

word count || 2.8k

summary || teaching the infamous Mandalorian to slow down and enjoy life isn't easy. it takes planning, patience - and silken sheets apparently.

content || SMUT, domesticity, simple pleasures, shower sex, sensual massages (i'm incorrigible), p in v sex, cowgirl position 🤠, slow sweet sex, post-orgasm planning for the future (this is din, after all)

a/n || i know, i know. i can hear it all now. "mel, where the fuck have you been???" celebrating my graduation and then immediately devolving into an existential crisis. but that's okay! not only have i figured out my direction in life, but i've returned with everyone's favorite topic: simping for Din Djarin.

Din Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Library Blog

Din Djarin is not a man who knows how to take his time. He’s a workhorse, constantly on the go from one job to the next. He simply never learned the skill of savoring the little things in life. A good meal, a hot shower, a full night’s rest, leisure time. All of those things are simply a stranger to him. Any pleasure he takes, usually at his own hand, is perfunctory at best, a release of tension for its own sake.

Until you.

It starts simple - a set of silken sheets that you bring onto the Crest. Din returns to find you sprawled out on the small bed you share with a sleepy smile that makes his chest feel funny. Your fingers fan out against the soft material.

“Come feel.” You murmur. He doesn’t hesitate to tug off the thick leather gloves and brush the fabric with the back of his fingers. You watch as his shoulders soften, his head tilting as he takes in the foreign feeling. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” He says contemplatively. “It’s soft.”

Your smile widens and you shift over, making room for your lover. “Join me?”

“In a bit,” Din promises. The chill of his beskar soaks into your skin as he presses his forehead to yours. His warm palm cups your cheek and he holds you there for a breath before pulling away. “I have some more work to do.”

It isn’t hard to convince him to strip down when he joins you later that night. He’s exhausted, body aching from a long day’s work. He lets you strip away his armor and flight suit until he’s left in his briefs. You’re used to him falling asleep the moment he collapses into bed - but tonight is different. His eyebrows raise in surprise when he relaxes back into the pillows, his fingers rubbing circles against new sheets. Din is a man of few words but it’s obvious how much he likes the new addition to the bedroom.

“Come here,” He whispers, beckoning you to join him. The tension melts from his body as you curl up against his side. He tilts your chin up and kisses you softly, a wordless offer of his thanks that you eagerly accept. Surrounded by the cool sheets and the woman he loves, he falls asleep within minutes. That morning, Din lingers in bed for those first drowsy moments after waking. He wakes you with a few gentle caresses of his hands over your shoulder and arm and a murmur of your name. He looks more rested than usual.

You make sure to buy matching pillowcases the next time you’re out.

With every passing day, Din learns how to slow down and savor the morning. It doesn’t take much to keep him in bed with you a little longer each morning - a few soft touches and sweet kisses, and Din sinks right back into your arms. He rubs his face into the crook of your neck and drifts in and out of sleep, practically purring with every brush of your fingers through his hair. His voice, so deep and rough first thing in the morning, rumbles low in his chest as he murmurs his love into your skin. It’s simple, this early morning peace the two of you share. So simple, but so important.

You slip into the shower with him one random evening. You can’t help it. He’s been gone for two days straight on a bounty hunt and you’ve missed him. His eyes light up with interest as they trail over your naked body, his hands finding your waist and tugging you against him. A shiver of desire arcs up your spine - but you didn’t come here to get fucked silly in the shower. Well, not yet at least. You loop your arms around his shoulders and press up on your toes to kiss him properly. Din groans against your lips, already moving to press you against the shower wall. A gentle tug on his hair is enough to stop him in his tracks.

“Can I wash your hair?” You ask, looking up at him like the picture of innocence.

Din blinks at you, confused. “You want to… wash my hair?”

“Yeah,” You say softly.

There’s no need to over-explain. The two of you have mastered this silent communication over the months you have spent together. He searches your face for a moment before his expression softens, implicit permission given in the way his eyes shine for you. You gently lather shampoo into his thick curls and let your nails drag along his scalp in the way he loves. His eyelashes flutter under your touch but his eyes don’t close. He’s too intent on watching you. The grip he has on your hips tightens as you work, little groans falling from his lips at the simple pleasure of your hands on his body.

He lets you maneuver him and tilt his head back into the water without a hint of resistance. For a man so used to keeping everyone at arm's length, the trust he holds for you is plain as day. His cock twitches against your belly as your fingers meticulously work the suds from his hair. The barest hint of your skin against his is enough to get him riled up, but this…? The press of your slick, bare body pressed against his? His body language begs for more. He leans into the press of your fingers and cants his hips forward, slowly grinding against you with stuttered breaths.

The moment the water runs clear, Din lifts you by your thighs and presses you against the cold shower wall. You can’t help but admire the bulge of his biceps as he leverages you up and nudges your entrance with the head of his cock, searching your face for permission. The hungry kiss you drag him into is all the permission he needs. A new rush of adrenaline seizes his body as he sinks into you. He fucks you hard and fast, pace faltering at the pure heaven of your body. He wedges his hand between your bodies and rubs insistent circles against your clit. He just knows your body too well - within minutes, those frantic bursts of pleasure built into a powerful orgasm that leaves you trembling and weak in his arms.

Din buries his face in the crook of your neck as he spills inside of you just seconds later. Every moan and panted breath echoes through the small shower. You shiver at the feeling of his lips pressed against your neck. He always knows just where to kiss and touch to leave you like putty in his hands. He goes willingly when you guide him in for a real kiss, lazy and slow as the water streams against you. Careful not to let you slip, he lowers you onto your feet and maneuvers you until the water pounds against your back.

You should have expected him to return the favor. Din doesn’t take no for an answer.

“It’s your turn.” He murmurs, too adamant and stubborn to be swayed. You’ve always loved that about him, even when it gives you grief.

You melt into his chest as he works product into your hair, his fingers massaging at your scalp in a way you didn’t even know you needed. Little sounds of satisfaction fall from your lips with every touch. Sometimes you forget just how big his hands are. He palms the back of your head and draws you close enough that your noses brush, but he doesn’t kiss you. Not yet. He just watches you for a moment as he thoroughly washes your hair. He takes in the way you look up at him with an expression so full of love that he aches.

“I love you,” His voice is so low that it almost gets lost in the thrum of water, but you hear it. He can tell by the way your eyes light up, by the soft smile that curls your lips.

“I love you, too.” You whisper back. Din kisses you softly before tilting your head back and rinsing the suds from your hair.

Slowly but surely, you introduce Din to a life he never realized was possible. He learns how to revel in the attention and care you give him. He learns how to give it in return. His thoughts always return to you when he’s on a bounty, knowing he has to return to his little love waiting for him at his ship. Every now and then, he finds something to bring back to you - a little trinket, some sweets, a new book. You always look at him as if he’s placed the entire universe in the palm of your hands. Fuck, he would do it, too. Anything to see you so happy.

Din returns from a week-long bounty exhausted, sore, and with a little gift in hand. It’s just a new robe, something soft and airy for you to wear on those long nights in hyperspace. You gasp softly when he hands it to you, your fingers exploring the silky fabric as if it’s precious - and to you, it is. Not because it’s some rare or expensive treasure. Just because it comes from him.

Allowing you to remove his armor is as easy as breathing. He eagerly accepts every touch and kiss you give him, more than happy to let you do as you please. You set every piece of armor aside with care and neatly fold his flight suit. It doesn’t take any convincing to get him into the shower with you. The burning heat of the water soothes some of the aches that linger in his muscles. A dull throb still follows his every move but he powers through, not wanting to spoil such a pleasant evening with his lover.

He never really learned that he can’t hide anything from you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask as he eases himself onto the edge of the bed.

“Just sore,” He concedes, slowly rolling his shoulders in a vain effort to ease the tension. Your eyebrows furrow as you look him over with a keen eye. All you wear is that scrutinizing expression and the pretty robe he got you, and he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked more beautiful. He sighs and reaches for your hand. “Come on, let’s just get some sleep.”

“You can’t sleep if you’re this uncomfortable.” You squeeze his shoulder, frowning when you feel how tight his muscles are. “Let me help.”

Din meets your gaze, your eyes so earnest that he doesn’t even think to deny you. He lets you maneuver him as you please until he’s laid out on his belly with you straddling his hips. A low groan rumbles through his chest when your hands bear down on his shoulders. Every pass of your fingers brings a strange combination of pleasure and pain that leaves him melting into the bed.

Even after all these months, he just isn’t used to the feeling of your skin against his. A simple passing touch is enough to have him shivering, but this? It’s overwhelming, all-consuming in the best possible way. It doesn’t take long for that pain to melt away into pure pleasure. Breathless, needy sounds follow every pass of your fingers. He can't help but rock his hips, grinding his cock into the silken sheets.

By the time you've finished working your thumbs into his lower back, you've reduced the Mandalorian beneath you into a desperate, hungry mess. He goes without hesitation when you urge him onto his back. His hands immediately find your hips and he grinds up into the heat of your cunt. The only thing that stops him from flipping you over and fucking you into the sheets is the gentle hand you place on his chest.

“Let me.” You whisper. Your voice carries a soft thrum of need that leaves him aching. “Let me take care of you.”

His fingers tighten at your hips at the mere brush of your fingers against his cock. That grip becomes bruising as you slowly sink onto him. Pleasure curls through his belly at the feeling of your cunt fluttering around him, so hot and slick and perfect - it would be so easy to lose his mind in the rapture of your body. It isn’t easy to keep his eyes open under the onslaught of pleasure, but it’s well worth it. He’s rewarded with the sight of your jaw falling slack and a shiver wracking your body. The stretch, the angle - it’s all new to you. You aren’t used to taking him this way. He isn’t used to letting you.

You sigh a breathy, pleased little sound that makes his heart skip a beat or two. Fuck, you might just be the death of him one of these days. It’s a demise he welcomes if it means meeting his end at your hands. That first roll of your hips has his head tipping back into the pile of fluffy pillows, yet another addition of comfort you’ve brought to this bed. You can’t take your eyes off him - the flex of his biceps, the clench of his jaw, the sheen of sweat that glistens on his tan skin. A delicious vision of the man you’ve come to love so dearly. You lean down and press a kiss to his chest, his collarbone, to that sweet spot where his pulse thrums in his neck.

Your fingers comb through his curls, bringing his pleasure-clouded gaze back to your own. His lips part as you set a slow, steady pace. Every rise and fall of your hips makes his eyelashes flutter but he doesn’t look away. He’s too entranced by this, by the pure newness of it all. Heat pulses and courses through your belly with every grind of your clit against him, grows stronger with every needy sound you pull from him. His chin tips up, an obvious plea, and you kiss him. Soft and slow, full of tongue and teeth.

Din doesn’t think he’s ever experienced anything quite as overwhelming as this. He isn’t a stranger to the feeling of your body or the love you somehow hold for him, but this is all new. Every slow rock of your hips sends honeyed pleasure slinking down his spine. There’s no need to rush. He can take his time and truly feel you, revel in the plushness of your thighs and the wet heat of your cunt. For the first time, he lets himself explore your body unhurried. His hands drift up and palm your breasts, his fingers rolling your nipple with a gentle touch. Your head tips back as you hum a pleased little sound.

Din can’t help but press his hips up, rising every time yours fall. He doesn’t take control, doesn’t try to set a faster pace. He just moves with you as fluid as rushing water. His hands shift to cup your ass, his fingers digging in and spreading you out for him. Desire clouds your gaze as he grinds his hips at that perfect angle that makes you see stars. You’re so close - he can feel it in the telltale rhythmic pulse of your cunt, in the way your thighs tremble. Slick drips in little rivulets down his thighs.

“Perfect, so perfect,” He rambles between rushed breaths. “My sweet girl, all mine.”

“Yours,” You promise. “I’m yours.”

All it takes is one perfect rock of his hips to have you falling apart for him. That tension finally bursts through your belly, your cunt tightening around him with every aching wave of pleasure. You lose all sense, all ability to keep your pace, but Din is quick to take over. His grip on your waist tightens as he pulls you down, spilling himself as deep as your body can take him. You let yourself melt into his chest, a wave of pleasure shuddering through you with every twitch of his spent cock.

Din locks his arms around your back, all too content to keep your body against his. No complaint comes from you. You just tuck your face into his neck with a spent sigh. The two of you float together in that sweet, exhausted haze. He doesn’t know for how long, but he never wants it to end. He never wants any of this to end. He wants this forever, for every possible moment of his life to be soaked in this contentment. Surrounded by soft sheets and the smell of your perfume. Unhurried and easy, with you.

Months ago, such a realization would have thrown him into an existential crisis. But he didn’t have you all those months ago - this sweet, bright-eyed, spitfire of a woman currently taking a cat nap on his chest. He didn’t have the sweet scent of your shampoo infused in his sheets. He didn’t have your soft exhales ghosting along his throat. He just didn’t know that life could be like this. The moment you shift as if you’re making to get off of him, his arms tighten around you.

“Just a little longer,” He murmurs, his voice sleepy and pleasure drunk.

You're more than happy to indulge him.

[saradika]

— bedroom hymns

mand'alor!sub!din x wife!dom!reader

rated e - 2.5k

tags: mand’alor!din, sub!din, soft dom!wife!reader, breeding kink, beskar cock cage, reference to needles & birth control, enthusiastic oral sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, references to pregnancy

a/n: my fic for @wannab-urs's event - dom that middle aged man! 💖 thank you so much for hosting this (and excited to share, I've always wanted to write sub!din!)

You’d liked this, when you first got together. His desire. How much he wanted to consume you. To take - the weight of his armor pressing into your back, as he drove you into the thin mattress of his bunk.

But this is what you like more. The leash he offers so willingly to you. Eager to obey, even as the collar tightens. Following at your heels.

After all, his duty is to his people. But it’s you that he serves.

His gaze has been on you all night.

You’ve learned the weight of it, even through his helmet. How his eyes find your form, again and again.

Lingering on your face - bare, as the traditions of your clans. On glint of silver against your throat, dipping down to your breasts.

His helmet tilting as he finds you again.

Knowing what he is thinking, for it is on your mind as well.

You’d managed a quick reunion. Lasting no more than a heartbeat, as you met him at his ship. Fingers tracing against your hip, as your lips pressed against the curve of his helmet. Bunching in the whisper-thin silk of your ceremonial dress.

Not finding what he was looking for. A growl, that was cut short.

All too eager to whisk you away, but even with his unexpected arrival, he hadn’t been able to escape his duty.

You’re too far away to hear the debriefing, but you can imagine your husband’s voice getting shorter. Impatient. Clipped.

That’s what two weeks away from you does to him.

Especially with the messages you sent to his holo, two days prior. Waiting until after the negotiations were done.

Giving him everything except what he wanted. Glimpses of flesh, where the gossamer robe wrapped around you. The soft curve of a breast, the fabric pebbled at shadowed peaks.

Glistening fingertips between plump flesh, swollen with desire.

The last was the only one with a message. A small, thin chip pinched between thumb and forefinger.

He’d know what it was.

Had been there when it was placed in your hip, his hand wrapped in yours as the needle pierced flesh.

Had talked about it often, late a night, a shared wish for the future.

One that has come, now.

Come home soon.

Din had been two days away.

After your message - he had made it in one.

He’s on you the moment the bedchamber door closes. Backing you up against the heavy stone. Gripping at your waist, as your face tips to his.

You’d liked this, when you first got together.

His desire.

How much he wanted to consume you. To take - the weight of his armor pressing into your back, as he drove you into the thin mattress of his bunk.

But that felt like a lifetime ago.

“Let me see you.”

There’s no hesitance in the way he reaches for his helmet, and you can feel the space between your thighs dampen.

His dark eyes blown wide with need, when it lifts off his head. Parted lips as he pants, brow furrowed. The thick curls, begging to be tugged.

But this is what you like more.

The leash he offers so willingly to you. Eager to obey, even as the collar tightens. Following at your heels.

After all, his duty is to his people.

But it’s you that he serves.

He moans against the press of your mouth. Once-clumsy kisses now practiced. Your teeth nipping at his lower lip until he opens willingly. Hips rocking against yours when you lick into his mouth.

Red painted against his mouth, from your painted ones.

It’s been far too long.

You’d never tell him, but you’d been waiting as well.

A sigh slipping from your lungs at the hands that skitter up your waist. Almost pawing at you as he mouths at your throat.

The pulse point beneath your ear.

Knowing better than to leave a mark.

That’s only for you - his skin your canvas.

His lips hovering at the necklace - a silver pendant tucked between your breasts. A soft and reverent kiss against it, as his legs start to bend.

Slowly lowering to his knees, as your thighs make room for him.

His nose ghosting against your belly. Down - tilting to kiss against your hip. Your mound, before he’s moving to inhale you.

“Let me.” It’s rasped out, as his eyes tilt up. Fingers gathering the hem that brushes your ankles, as his knees spread against stone.

“You were good?”

Din groans, his mouth pressing against your core. The silk dampening beneath his tongue, sticking the fabric against your slick folds.

His breath hot, and you have to resist the urge to squirm.

“Fuck,” His fingers inch higher. Stroking against soft skin, “You know I was, cyare.”

Your breath hitches, when his knuckles drag against your slit. Something akin to a whine sliding from his throat when he meets bare skin - his earlier curiosity finally sated.

“How did it feel?”

There’s a ragged huff of a laugh. His other hand dropping down to palm at his crotch. Teeth gritting, hips flexing.

Fingers parting you, letting the tip of his finger nudge at your entrance.

“You shouldn’t have sent those messages.”

Your eyebrow arches, your grin sly, “You didn’t like them?”

He makes another rough sound. A hand fisting on the hem of your skirt again - tugging it up until it’s gathered against your abdomen.

Baring you fully - the part of your thighs, where his palm curves against your core. Tongue dipping across his lip in anticipation.

An effort, in the way his eyes drag back up to your face. Voice rough, the scrape of stone against metal.

“You know what you do to me.”

You clench around his finger. Eager for him, though you’ve learned to school your face - a second mask to the one you wear.

How well your husband listens.

The verbal confirmation sending another hot rush of need. Your own fingers slipping down, past his knuckles. Fitting beneath the dip of his chin, petting between your slick thighs.

The tips coming back shining. His mouth parting automatically, as you slip two fingers against his tongue.

“And see what you do to me?”

His eyes slip shut - groaning, as he sucks. Tongue laving against your skin, thankful for anything you give him. Another shift of his hips, his own hand flexing against you, when you slide your fingers free.

Forefinger and thumb against his chin, leaving a gleam of spit behind, as you guide him where he aches to be.

You can feel the heat of his breath for a heartbeat, before his mouth meets you. The moan breathed out against your skin, tongue flattening against your clit.

Hungry, in the way he devours you. Lapping at the tight bud, while his finger remembers how to move. A second added, as his lips wrap around and suck.

It sends waves of bliss coursing through you. A tremble in your legs, before one hooks over his shoulder. A heel pressed against his armor, urging him closer.

He’s all too willing to obey. Losing himself in your pleasure, soft sounds slipping from his throat as he works you open. As his tongue flicks, again and again.

You can already feel it start to build. He’s always known how to touch you, his eagerness and your own self-restraint only fueling the fire in your belly.

“If only they could see you now,” You breathe out, in wonder. Tugging at the curls at the nape of his neck, but it only makes him moan, “On your knees for me.”

His eyes lift to meet yours. Giving himself to you, his mind focused on only one thing - the taste of you against his tongue.

“What would they think, knowing I keep their Mand’alor in a cage?”

A low oath slips from him. Another flex of his hips, as his fingers curl against a spot that makes you see stars.

Your next words coming as a soft command.

“Show me.”

You mourn the way his fingers slip from you. Gleaming, as they drop to his armor. Loosening the golden belt, removing the ven'cabur beneath. Drawing himself out.

The light catches on the beskar beneath.

Pretty and gleaming. Ornamental in its design, but your family did come from a long line of forgers.

It had been easy, to craft a piece to compliment him. An extension of his armor. A near-constant reminder of your absence.

For that is what it was.

Not to punish him. Din would never stray, you believed that with your whole heart.

Instead, it was to ensure that he did not spill himself needlessly. That every drop of his essence was spent where it belonged - deep inside his wife’s pretty cunt.

A shared idea. A secret.

He had almost been late in leaving, with the amount of time it had taken to lock it around him. The key left with you, along with his heart.

“Pretty,” You coo. Even better up close, you're sure - though you will have to wait.

He hums in agreement. Focused now, tracing your clit with a pattern he knows will make you cum. The hand leaving his armor to knead the flesh of your ass, tilting your pussy to his mouth.

But you can’t resist teasing him, even as your breath grows short. As your tone catches on an edge, needing to hear it.

The toe of your boot shifting just enough to nudge at him.

“Whose pretty cock is that?”

A groan is muffled against your skin. His rhythm knocked off-kilter, as he mumbles his reply.

“Yours, cyare.”

You’re nearly there. The edges of your vision darkens, heart hammering behind your ribs.

“You-,” You start, as your toes curl. As the pressure builds in your belly, threatening to burst, “You want me to take it off?”

Surely he must feel the pressure of the metal. The way his cock strains with desire against the cage, still held back.

“No.” He rasps.

“Not yet.”

The denial makes you come. A cry leaving your lips as you fall apart against his mouth. As he licks at you eagerly - fingers fitting inside you once more, to give you something to clench around. Feeling the tight pulse around them, against the flat of his tongue.

Letting you ride out your orgasm, the pleasure shared. Hips shifting involuntarily, meeting open air.

And only when your back relaxes against the door, does he allow you to lead him to bed.

You leave marks against his skin, as you move down.

His armor removed carefully. Ritualistically, set aside in the padded crate near your shared bed.

Streaks of red from your lips, their outline lightening as it transfers. Neck, chest, abdomen.

Halting at the one piece he still wears.

The metal encircling him, giving you peeks of swollen skin. A jerk of his hips when you trace against his sack, drawn tight with need.

Then, up.

“You’re dripping.” Your fingers trace against the tip, just brushing the flushed skin beneath.

Coming back shining, his eyes fixed on yours as you taste him with your tongue.

“Is it for me?”

His answer comes in a roughened rush.

“Always.”

You hum, lips curling. Pushing yourself up, letting him watch the way you tug the dress from your shoulders. Baring yourself - the soft sways of your breasts, shifting until your hips rest flush with his.

His hands twitching where you pushed them above his head, warning him not to move.

Your name gritted out, a futile warning, when you shift against the cold metal of the cage.

Letting it slide against your clit, slick with your release. With his need, so wholly restrained.

“Please.” It’s bitten out.

Your fingers play with the necklace. His reaction cataloged away, for later. Eyes fixed on his as you slowly dip back down.

“Should make you wait longer,” You muse, “But you listened, didn’t you?”

He has long enough - you can see it in the way his muscles string tight. The need written across his face, as he watches your movement.

“I would wait,” Din husks, “For as long as you wished it.”

The spark flares to life again. A kiss press against the metal, before your necklace touches against it.

A click as the cage unlatches - careful in the way you ease it from him.

His breath comes in a low hiss, when you touch him. The feather-light drag of your nails against sensitive skin, jerking to life beneath your fingertips.

Hardening, now that he was no longer restrained. Two weeks of that tight pressure eased, and it feels like a fresh breath of air.

He tastes like you, when your mouth presses against his. Tongue stroking against yours when you line him up against your entrance, your fingers struggling to wrap around.

Moaning against your mouth, when you finally sink down.

Finally home.

Finally where he needs to be, as you gasp at the intrusion. His fingers opening you up before, but it’s always a stretch.

Leaving behind a delicious burn, one you’ve craved. Hips rocking as you get used to the weight of him inside you, once more. Until that dull ache bleeds away to bliss.

And finally your hips lift - gliding up the full length of him. Clenching around the tip before you drop back down.

One, two.

Hands braced against his chest as you bounce on his cock, as his own curl into fists. Eyes glazed - lips parted as he watches you, his heart pounding beneath your flattened palms.

Three, four.

Stroking a spot deep inside you, one you’d chase if he wasn’t so far gone. His eyes greedy where he watches you take him, the shine of his cock before it’s buried in you.

Five, six.

It’s then that you lean forward. Lips ghosting against his, pulling back before he can chase after.

“Are you going to give me what I want, riduur?” You croon, testing your teeth against his throat.

His pulse spiking - a rough buzz beneath your lips as he exhales a sharp breath.

Seven. Eight. Nine.

Picking up speed, as you nip at his ear.

“Fill me? Get me swollen with you?” A hand ghosting across your belly, as you sigh against him, “Let everyone who you belong to?”

Din growls, but it pitches long. Low, caught in his throat at he shifts beneath you.

“Gedet’ye, ner runi.”

Slipping into his native tongue, as his thoughts loose in his grasp. His begging is a symphony, combined with the slap of your skin against his. With the slick slide of his cock, his panting breath.

“I can’t-," Din husks, "Not going to last.”

Your lips stretch wide with your smile.

“Want you to,” You purr, “Give me what you were made for.”

Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen.

Once again, your husband comes early.

Forgetting himself - his hands coming to grip at the curve of your waist. Denting flesh as he tugs you down, holding you against the rut of his hips as he spills with a muffled shout inside you.

A ragged breath, each time his cock throbs. Wordless moans as two weeks of his desire is spent, filling you until it threatens to spill over.

Until the iron-grip of his fingers relax. Eyes left-heavy lidded. Only tightening when you make to move off him.

Keeping you in place, his cock still notched to the hilt inside you.

“I missed you.” You tell him, fingers tracing his jaw. Against grown-long scruff, flecked with silver.

A kiss pressed against the spot that never fills in all the way. More peppered across his cheek, until his breathing slows.

“Missed you.” It’s huffed out. The flash of teeth, as he draws your mouth to his.

Still hungry, even after all this time. Barely sated, even as he fills you.

“Did you-?” It’s murmured against your lips, when you break to breathe, “You meant it?”

Your eyes are soft, when you grab his hand to your hip. The still-tender spot, letting his thumb press against soft skin.

He groans, low and throaty. Flipping you beneath him, as his eyes drag down your form - as if you have changed, already.

As if it’s already taken, as your thighs widen to make room for him. Letting him slip from you, but his fingers are already there.

Sliding against slick skin. Gathering himself up - where he’s leaked from you. Fucking it back inside, working himself deeper.

Stroking against that spot, as his lips slot against yours.

He’ll make you come again.

Again, and again, if that’s what it takes.

Your husband was always good at giving you what you want.

thank you so much for reading! excited to start this year off like the last - domming our fave old men. 💖

mando'a translations:

cyare - beloved riduur - spouse ven'cabur - codpiece ner runi - my soul gedet’ye - please

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Familiar & Unfamiliar

din djarin x female!reader

warning: attempted sexual assault (not by our boy mando, and i don’t describe it in depth the furthest it goes is non-consensual kissing), light smut, angst then comfort, then fluff fluff fluff, identity theft, mentions of slave trade, canon violence, dom!din trying hard to be sub!din for you, he doesn’t succeed for long

word count: 4,174

Summary: You travel the galaxy with a Mandalorian who is much softer than his impenetrable beskar would lead others to believe. He leaves you with his son to search for a Quarry, but it’s not the Mando you’ve come to know and love who returns to you.

“It shouldn’t take long.” Mando hummed as he collected his gear from his weapon’s storage. You sat cross legged on the Razor Crest���s floor with the child in your lap. His small green hand played with the small, metal ball he seemed to always find. Your hand stroked his ears only stopping to push the ball away from his mouth when he began to try and chew on it. Mando turned around to stare down at you. “Will you be alright here?”

After traveling with the Mandalorian for the last two months, babysitting and completing repairs on the ship, you had finally grown accustomed to the silver beskar covered man. Initially it had been difficult for you to even look at the man for longer than a second⏤ too intimidated by the black t-shape visor that stared back at you. However, joining him had been your only option at the time, an act of self preservation, so you had to push your fear aside. Luckily, you had quickly learned that though the metal he was covered in was impossible to penetrate, the man underneath was as soft as they come.

You learned that the solemn, silent, and dangerous facade Mando wore was more or less an interpretation of what people saw. Yes, he was dangerous. You had seen him wrestle quarries three time his size and come out unscathed, but you had also seen him humming a song under his breath while giving the child a bath. You had seen Mando go out of his way to purchase you a new pair of boots in the market simply because he noticed your discomfort with your current pair. The brief times you felt his touch, a brush against your arm or a hand on your back, it was soft and comforting. His eyes were impossible to see behind his helmet, but you could feel the care in his gaze. Having Mando’s attention on you felt like safety.

Mando called out your name and you blinked in surprise. “Oh, um, yeah! We’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

“I shouldn’t be gone long. Days at most.” He reassured before you could even ask. You stood up and Mando drifted closer⏤ his gloved hand reached out brush the child’s head. Mando chuckled when his son cooed and giggled in response. You heard a long time ago that the best judge of a person’s character was how they treated animals and children. Mando passed that test with flying colors. “You remember the rules?”

“Hmm, no running with scissors?” You joked. Mando tilted his head and you chuckled. “Don’t open the Razor Crest’s ramp for anyone but you, and if I do have to leave for some emergency, get to a crowded spot with plenty of witnesses and talk to no one. Not until you come for us.”

Mando nodded in approval. He gave the child’s head one last pet along the ears and as his hand pulled away you felt his leather covered fingers drag down the length of your bare arm. Heat crept up the back of your neck and you prayed to any deity that was listening that Mando hadn’t heard the hitch in your breath. You were not attracted to your metal armored Mandalorian employer and friend. At least that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

Without another word, Mando made his way to the back of the cargo hold. He opened the ramp before heading down and you called out for him to be careful. Mando glanced over his shoulder, at you and the child, and you waved. You stood at the cargo hold’s edge as Mando pressed a button on his gauntlet and the ramp began to rise. As the metal door rose, you stared at the mandalorian’s back until the ramp cut him off from sight.

Din was more distracted than usual and he told himself it wasn’t because of the newest addition to the Razor Crest. It obviously wasn’t because of you. No, he was just busy with all the bounties he was juggling and the stress of trying to find the child’s people. Then the added dilemma of his current quarry. Already he had been on the flesh trader’s trail for three days. Three full days. That was nothing in comparison to past hunts that would take him weeks on end, but Din found his patience wearing very, very thin.

“Are you ready yet, mate?” A voice asked through the closed door. 

Din had to resist the urge to roll his eyes. His only lead came from a mercenary who was hunting an Inner Rim politician that had come all the way out here to participate in the slave trade. It was the only access Din would have to get into the market to find his quarry and it came at a cost. Din glanced down at the helmet held in his hands. It was an oddly shaped red thing from Kaleesh culture. His new mercenary partner made it very clear that if he walked in as a Mandalorian everything would be lost. On any normal bounty Din would’ve risked it anyways. There was very little in the galaxy that could coax him out of his armor, leave him bare to the world, but a child in danger did it. 

A mother had come to him after he searched for a lead in the local cantina on his first night. She had fallen to her knees in front of him and begged for his help⏤ she offered everything she owned and more in return. Her only child, an eleven year old little girl, had been stolen away from her. Dragged to the flesh market to be sold. Din swore to her that he’d bring her back. On his word as a Mandalorian, she would be reunited with her daughter. He just wasn’t allowed to do it looking like a Mandalorian.

“Seriously, mate, we’re going to be late!” Trigg, the mercenary, barked once more.

Din settled the helmet over his head and shifted uncomfortably. It didn’t fit quite like his real one did, but it was tight enough that he wasn’t worried about it falling off in the heat of battle. For a second, he just stared at himself in the mirror. Red armor of cloth and leather covered every inch of his skin, black gloves pulled on tight, and his oddly shaped helmet covered his face entirely. Din hated it more than anything. But, the sooner he saved the girl and caught his quarry, the sooner he could return to his ship. Return to the child and you.

“I’ll be right out.” Din called back. He settled all his beskar armor pieces into the tarp bag he had borrowed from the child’s mother. It was her home they were using as a base of sorts. Din hid the bag in the closet of the room behind a stack of boxes. It made him anxious to leave his armor behind, but he forced himself to step away and open the door.

Trigg stood in the hall wearing his own personal gear. The blond man had scars from a raking claw on the side of his head leaving those patches with sparse hair. His arms were crossed over his chest and he stared at Din in a mix of annoyance and impatience. “Finally. Did you have to do your hair?”

“It’s you we’re waiting on now.” Din replied dryly as he marched past the man to the door.

The sooner, the better.

Night had fallen for the third night of Mando being gone. It was too soon for you to be worried about him, but a ball of anxiety still sat in your gut. He had been away for longer periods of time before. The longest thus far being three weeks. You were mumbling a soft song under your breath as you rocked the child to sleep. When his eyes drifted close, you carefully set him in the hammock above Mando’s bunk and tucked a blanket around him. 

When you were certain that the kid was settled, you drifted toward the fresher to get ready for bed yourself. You wondered what it would take to convince Mando to pick up a bounty on a planet with an ocean soon. Going from the lava plains of Nevarro to the deserts of Tatooine and now this dusty Outer Rim world was bleak. You missed water. You had grown up near a river on your homeworld and spent a decent amount of time there. It wasn’t until you saw dry planet after dry planet that you truly began to appreciate natural bodies of water.

You shrugged out of your clothes, tossing them aside, and slid into a pair of shorts and one of Mando’s shirts. It had been borrowed early on in your travels and now it belonged more to you than it did him. The dark shirt was large enough to cover most of your shorts. You had been in the middle of washing your face when you heard the tell tale sound of the ramp. Quickly, you grabbed a towel and dried your face while rushing out of the fresher.

Mando was walking up the ramp just as you entered the cargo hold and you shot him a smile, “Hey, Mando.” He came to a sudden stop. You glanced around but saw no evidence of a quarry behind or near him. Had they gotten away? “What happened with the quarry?”

The Mandalorian crossed his arms and a nervous energy settled over your skin. The way he stood just seemed…off. And, the silence that surrounded him wasn’t the usual comfortable quiet you had grown used to. Mando’s helmet tilted some, as if his eyes were raking over your form, and you tugged on the bottom of your shirt anxiously. This was an outfit you wore to sleep every night on the Razor Crest, but right now was the first time you felt uncomfortable having it on around Mando.

“Are you⏤Are you injured?” You asked.

Mando strolled closer to you. Another bit of him that wasn’t right⏤ his gait. As you tried to gather your thoughts, he came to a stop right in front of you. Nearly chest to chest. A lump had formed in your throat, mouth dry, and you tried to swallow it down. Being around Mando always made your stomach feel as if it were filled with butterflies, made your heart race out of your chest, made an addicting warmth pool in your core. 

That was not how you felt right now.

Your hand reached out, as quickly as you could manage it, and slammed against the lock button of Mando’s bunk. The metal door slid down. It clicked into place, and the Mandalorian in front of you grabbed you by the throat and shoved you back until you slammed into the Razor Crest’s wall. You clawed at the familiar, gloved hand tightening around your throat as a low, unfamiliar chuckle rumbled through the modulator.

“What’s wrong, baby?” A voice that did not belong to your Mandalorian asked. “Aren’t you happy to see me? You were a minute ago.”

“Wh⏤Who⏤” You tried to spit out but you could barely breathe let alone form words.

“I’m your Mandalorian, baby.” The cruel laugh coming out from behind the t-shape visor you found comfort in felt so very wrong. He yanked you off the wall and released your throat. You managed to gasp a single breath of air before he backhanded you across the face hard enough to see stars. You fell to your knees and elbows roughly, a cry of pain leaving your lips, but you struggled to find a weapon of any kind. “That’s right. Crawl away, baby. Run. I’m a Mandalorian who likes to hunt, and now you’re my prey. How’s that sound?”

Your hand found a screwdriver, lying off to the side where you had been working on something under the floorboard earlier, just as he kicked you in the side to flip you over. The imposter knelt on the ground over you and you tried to stab him where only the flight suit sat. Unfortunately, he turned fast enough that the screwdriver struck beskar and did absolutely nothing. He laughed once more as you gave up the attack to try and slip away, but he grabbed your hands by the wrist and pinned you to the ground. The imposter sat on top of your thighs, kneeling over you, and you were forced to stare at your reflection in Mando’s armor.

It would be a bold faced lie for you to say you hadn’t daydreamed about having the beskar armor on top of you⏤ the weight of it pressing into you in every delicious way you could think of. But not like this. Not with a stranger inside of it. 

“Who knew the ship came with such a pretty little whore.” The imposter hummed. He shifted your arms so he could pin both your wrists with one hand. With his other, he grasped the bottom of the beskar helmet and pulled it off.  The man’s eyes were a piercing blue. Cold and cruel. Blond hair covered his scalp except on the side of his head where the scars of what looked like claw marks sat. He tossed the helmet aside and gave you a sickening grin. “Is that what you’re here for? You keep the Mandalorian’s bed warm? Let him fuck you when he’s done with a hunt?”

“Get the kriff off of me!” You struggled against his grip, against his touch, but nothing seemed to deter him from using his other hand to run over your body. You screamed until you were hoarse and when you cried out for Mando the man sitting on top of you just laughed. Faintly, you could hear frantic tapping behind Mando’s bunk door and fear struck you. Was the child awake? He wouldn’t be able to unlock the door from inside you didn’t think. 

It seemed the imposter was too immersed in you to hear the sound. 

“How about this,” The man leaned closer into your space, “I get a quick taste of you now, and then, once we’re up and in hyperspace, I’ll fuck you better than your Mando ever could, yeah?”

His lips crashed down on yours roughly. You tried to turn your face away, but the imposter bit down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood. Between the metallic taste of your blood on your tongue and the smell of his rancid breath you were going to be sick. You gasped in pain and he took advantage by shoving his tongue into your mouth. He pressed his hips down into you, grinding against your stomach now, and the feel of his erection pressing into you made a horrified sob slip form you. It seemed to only spurn him on further. He let go of one of your hands to grasp at the waistband of your pants.

The sound of sprinting footsteps made the imposter sit up and you were barely able to register what was happening when a body dressed in red leather slammed into the beskar covered imposter⏤ both men falling away. Taking advantage of your freedom, you scrambled back as quickly as you could. The stranger dressed in red, wearing an oddly shaped helmet that covered his face, had a hand wrapped around the imposter’s throat while his other fist pounded away at the man’s face. Grunts of anger filled the air with every blow thrown and the imposter fought back only for a moment before his body went slack.

You scrambled away further but your back hit a metal crate sitting in the cargo hold. It shifted slightly and the sound made the stranger sit up and spin around. You gasped⏤panicked. Heart still racing. The imposter laid motionless. His face bruised, broken, and bloody beyond all recognition. You were breathing hard, trying to suck in more air as the air you did get brought no relief. The stranger jumped up, motions smooth and agile, and rushed to you. A cry of fear left you as you tried to pathetically jump up, but his hands wrapped around you. Soft, but firm. A comforting weight.

“It’s me. It’s me. You’re safe, mesh’la.” A familiar voice came out of the unfamiliar mask. The bright red and angry shapes still jarring to look at and you tried to struggle away. He pulled away to rip off his gloves. One hand came to rest on the side of your face, while the other lifted the red helmet just enough to reveal a jaw covered in dark scruff and lips. “Listen to me, mesh’la. You’re safe. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. It’s me. I’m here.”

You were still shaking, your entire body threatening to tremble into pieces, but your breaths were beginning to grow controlled. The warm hand on your face was grounding. It was familiar. You couldn't see the man’s eyes, but you could feel his soft gaze. Safe. You felt safe.

“M⏤Mando?” You gasped.

“Yes.” He nodded. “I’m here, mesh’la. You’re safe now.”

You broke into an uncontrollable sob, unable to bite it back, and Mando didn’t hesitate to pull you into his arms. The coarse, red armor you buried your face into felt unfamiliar, but the strong arms that wrapped around you felt right.

For the first time, Din felt uncomfortable in his helmet. It smelled of the spice that Trigg disgustingly chewed on. He couldn’t even bring himself to pull his armor on. It left him in a pair of plain sweats and shirt. After setting you in his bunk, the child curled into your side, he had stripped the mercenary out of his beskar and thrown the piece of shit into the carbonite freezer.

The job had gone so well then so bad. Din found the young Rodian child and killed his quarry. He’d only get half the bounty with the flesh trader dead, but something was better than nothing. The moment he returned the girl to her mother his heart had stopped when he realized his armor was missing. Din had sprinted to the Razor Crest, faster than he had ever run, and still he hadn’t come soon enough. 

Din stepped out of the fresher. The Razor Crest was in hyperspace and the cargo hold was dark. The only light spilling from the open door behind him. The sound of whimpering filled the otherwise silent space around him. Din hurried to the bunk to see you tossing and turning. He scooped the child up and set him in the hammock before crawling in to try and calm you.

He called out your name, bare hands on your shoulders, and when your eyes snapped open, thanks to his visor, he could see clearly the way panic and fear filled them. You screamed and began to swing at him. His helmet. It was his helmet. Without thinking, Din ripped his helmet off and threw it out of the bunk. Din pulled you into his arms again, pressing your face to his shoulder, and whispered reassurances.

“It’s me, Mesh’la. It’s me. I’m sorry. I was wearing the helmet. You’re safe, I promise.”

“Mando?” You breathed. He buried his hand in your hair and pulled you tighter into his chest. As if the two of you weren’t already tangled together in the small confines of his bunk. “I’m sorry I hit you⏤”

“It didn’t hurt. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I left you alone. I’m sorry I didn’t get here sooner.” Din didn’t know which emotion waged in him the most⏤ guilt or anger. They were neck and neck. You took in a deep shaky breath and your hot breath on his neck made him sigh in relief. You were safe in his arms. Din rubbed your back and the question fell out before he could hold it back. “Did he… Mesh’la, did⏤”

“No.” You whispered. “You got here just in time.”

Din could feel tears soaking into his shirt. When the tears stopped, Din coaxed you out of the bunk and onto the cargo hold floor. He grabbed a first aid kit and rushed back so you weren’t left alone for too long. The only light still came from the open door of the fresher and he sat so his back was to it. The dim light illuminated your features and it was like a spotlight to the injuries you sported. He had told you that you could open your eyes. With the way you sat, it’d be too dim for you to see his face, but you said you didn’t want to risk it. 

He let his fingers trace the forming bruise surrounding your right eye. It trailed down to brush against the torn skin of your lower lip. Dank farrik. That kriffing fucker had bit you. He could see the outline of teeth. Din’s jaw clenched. He grabbed a bit of bacta and rubbed it gently into the forming bruise. He was going to do the same for your lower lip when you stopped him.

“Did I hurt you?” He blurted.

“No, no. Not that.” You mumbled. “Can I… Can I ask you for a favor?”

“Anything, mesh’la. Anything.”

“Can you kiss me?” You asked. Din was certain he had misheard you. It was why he sat in silence. He was trying to puzzle out what it was you had actually said. You spoke again, nervous, “You don’t have to. I⏤I…”

“You want me to…kiss you?”

You nodded. Eyes still closed lightly. “I know it’s dumb. It⏤ I just don’t want to feel his lips anymore. I don’t want the taste of him on me.”

“That’s not dumb, mesh’la.” 

Din settled one of his hands on the side of your face. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Din began to lean in. He didn’t want to startle you. He wanted to give you every opportunity to pull away if you needed to. Din would be lying to himself, again, if he said he hadn’t imagined the way your lips would feel on him. But not like this. He hated that these were the circumstances, but there wasn’t a single thing Din wouldn’t do for you if you asked.

His nose brushed against yours. Din was close enough that he could feel your lips part. He waited one second more before pressing his lips softly against yours. One of your hands lifted to tangle in his hair and a simple gesture shouldn’t make him feel so hot under his skin. The kiss was slow and tender. Din was terrified to press too hard and bring you pain. The injury to your lower lip still so fresh. And after what you had just suffered through, he wanted you to have all the control. If you needed to use him to rid yourself of that nightmare, to erase the memory that bastard left on your lips, then he would. 

Your tongue brushed against his lower lip, tracing it, and he parted his lips for you giving you room to explore him. Maker, the taste of you was so sweet. It took every single ounce of Din’s self control to not deepen the moment even further. The kiss grew almost frantic. A hand in his hair and another at the back of his neck to pull him into you. You pulled back just enough to suck in a sharp breath before your lips was back on his and Din lost his battle for self control.

He wrapped his other arm around your waist and pulled you into his lap. Din was caught off guard when you pushed down to press yourself against his already hard cock, but it was a welcome surprise. He grabbed your hips, hands tightening into the soft skin there, and grinded into you. You moaned into his mouth and Din pulled away briefly so he could press open mouth kisses along your jaw then down your neck until he reached your shoulder. Thoughtlessly, he bit down, wanting to leave evidence of himself on you, and you let out a sharp gasp while grinding into him again. Din ran his tongue against the bite soothingly. 

Din’s hands slipped under your shirt and he desperately let his lips find yours once more. His tongue slipped past your lips, but then he tasted it. The sharp, metallic tang of blood. Din pulled back quickly realizing his plan to let you run the show had gone to shit. Both of you were breathless. 

“Are you okay, mesh’la??” He pulled one hand away from your hip to touch your face. His thumb brushed against your lower lip and in the dim light he could see the tint of red. 

“Thank you.” You breathed. You leaned forward, pressing a chaste kiss that missed and only landed on the corner of his lips. Then you leaned your head on his shoulder and just took slow breaths. Din let his knuckles drag up and down your spine. He could feel your entire body going limp as you melted into his hold. You mumbled, “Thank you, Mando.”

“Din.” He replied, but he didn’t know if you had already fallen asleep or not. “Call me Din.”

[the-blind-assassin-12]

These summer smooches have been one hell of a treat and I have loved them ALL (and will have more to say on them soon) but this one has been one of my favorites so far.

I always love the way you write Din and Reader, no matter what universe or storyline they’re in. They always have such a strong connection that you can feel and that feels right. Your characterization of Din is always spot on, and the reader characters you create for him are always such a good match - capable and brave and caring. Exactly what and who he deserves.

And it seems that he very much agrees here because they are MARRIED and she has ARMOR and I am just so damn happy about those two facts. I love that the armor is a physical manifestation of how much he wants to keep her safe.

I love that they get so much time alone together while on this job. Any time when they can snag a few hours for just themselves, out of their armor and stretched out (or not so much😏) in bed, is gold, even if it only comes between semi dangerous bounties. This is the way to seize the day, right?

But now here we are going after these slime buckets and they have the NERVE to shoot down MY RIDUUR?! I don’t care how much the price drops there’s no bringing you in alive after THAT. This is fantastic. Peak Mandalorian romance. It’s exactly how Din would react if the tables were turned and it was really fun for reader to get to be the avenging badass here.

Another thing that made me very happy? Din saying there’s plenty of bacta on the ship. Because FINALLY. He’s finally prepared for the inevitable disaster that WILL befall him. (I suspect that was Reader’s influence.) But Reader literally having it on her person because she also is prepared for the impending disaster that is her husband’s luck is even better.

That little cheek helmet smooch! That was so cute and loving and intimate and he was imagining it so hard that he definitely felt it and I love the way they respect each other’s feelings about when it’s okay to remove the helmets. It’s perfect. They’re perfect.

And Din wanting to make sure she’s really okay/get her out of that armor ASAP and get his hands on his badass riduur who he loves with his whole heart? The absolute perfect ending.

I loved ever second of this. It was fun and exciting and had me smiling and blushing. Thank you for this little adventure!!

2023 Summer Kiss Prompt #9: Din Djarin - A Kiss on the Beskar

This one is for @panda-pascal and is the first of three (!) in the request.

This Din/Reader are entirely unrelated to anything else I've ever written for him, so it can be read as a one shot.

It was wonderful to get back to the Tin Can and see what he's up to while just trying to make it through the day. Thank you for requesting this one!

Word Count: 1,632

No warning, just some Star Wars swearing.

It shouldn’t have surprised you, because it wasn’t like you didn’t know the man. 

But when things went wrong where Din was concerned, they always went very wrong. 

That day was no different. 

It started out fine; Din dropping Grogu off with Karga while the two of you headed out to chase a small batch of bounties. The three of you said goodbye to each other in one of the opulent rooms at Nevarro’s city center, the Child waving his tiny clawed hand in the air and glowering at you as though he was reminding you that if anything happened to Din, he’d never forgive you. Like I don’t already know that, kid. 

And it went even better after Din punched coordinates into the Crest’s nav system, the two of you with hours of free time between Nevarro and Aridus. You were no stranger to finding ways to fill the time you had together on the ship. That day was no different - you and Din getting your fill of each other without worrying about anyone seeing or hearing something that they shouldn’t. 

You fell asleep on the small cot in the sleeping quarters, Din’s face buried in the crook of your neck. But when the alarm blared to alert you that you were reaching your destination, you woke up and dressed in almost complete silence, though there were more than a few lingering touches - skin on skin, his lips pressed to the side of your throat and the top of your shoulder - before Din was covered from head to toe in the shining armor you’d gotten to know before you got to meet the man beneath it. 

Even the trek from where you landed the ship to the village where the quarry was located went smoothly. The pair of you made good time across the surface, working out your strategy for capture. “It’ll be easy,” he said, voice low as you walked side by side across the uneven terrain. “We’ll take them by surprise and it’ll be quick. We’ll be back on the ship before dark.” 

But it went sideways when someone that wasn’t either of you shot first. Blaster fire bounced off of Din’s gleaming chest plate and then your pauldron with a second shot, you and Din diving for cover behind a large rock while the air crackled with the beams of energy. 

You weren’t hurt - the armor he’d had forged for you after the two of you recited your vows ensured that you were physically safe. But it did catch you off guard, knocking the breath from you for long moments until you steadied yourself, head whipping to the side to watch his movements as he readied his weapons. 

“Are you alright?” His voice came through your helmet’s internal modulator, and since you knew that he needed more than a nod to confirm, you groaned as you leaned against the rock, angling your body toward him to show that you were fine. 

“I am. Are you?” All you got was a grunt, and then Din was in the air, his jetpack lifting him without warning so that he could glide across the final open space and reach the target. Oh, are you kriffing serious? 

You didn’t have a pack yet. It was coming, but neither of you had been to Mandalore to speak to the Armorer about the progress, and so you were forced to remain behind the rock with both feet on the ground, sighing heavily as you watched him continue to take fire in midair.

The beskar meant that Din wouldn’t get seriously hurt, but it didn’t mean that there wouldn’t be bruises and soreness for days after an encounter like the one you were involved in. And Grogu can help if it’s really bad. 

A sudden shout of pain drew your attention again, your head snapping back to see that Din’s jetpack had been the target of a new attack. He was tumbling toward the ground, his arms flailing wildly while he tried to keep himself upright. Where is this coming from? You reached up, pressing your finger to your temple and turning on the thermal imaging within your visor. 

It didn’t take you long to find the source of the blaster fire - two creatures crouched on the other side of the clearing, their attention fully on the Mandalorian. And not on me. With a few more seconds of observation, you confirmed that one of them was your quarry, the chain code flashing on the screen before your eyes. Thank the Maker. 

You used their distraction to your advantage, crouching down and sneaking through the underbrush to where they were without making a sound - just like he’d taught you. As you approached, they kept firing and you used that, too, waiting until you were within a few feet to announce your presence. “Surprise.” 

They immediately turned to face you, shouting in a language you couldn’t understand. A single blaster shot from you relieved one of them of their weapon - and knocked him flat on his back, unconscious. The other repositioned his feet, glaring, but you stood your ground.

“Don’t even think about it.” Finger on the trigger, you took a breath. “Normally, I’d take you in alive for the bigger reward, but I’m not giving you that option today.”

The creature opened his mouth, snarling, and in the split second you had to react, you fired again, his body hitting the ground with a thud followed by a cack moments later as his head made contact, too. “You shot my riduur, you karking son of a Gundark.” 

Once you were sure both creatures were down for the count, you hurried back toward where Din laid, the man on his side and holding his elbow in one gloved hand. “Are you hurt?” 

He groaned the question out, the pain evident in his words. When you dropped to your knees beside the man, peeling your gloves off and reaching for him, you hissed at the warmth of blood seeping through the material of his flight suit and onto your fingers. “I’m not. But they got you, Din.” 

“Plenty of bacta on the ship. I’ll be fine.” He sat up, head shaking back and forth. “We need to get him tied for transport. I think my pack is mucked up, and that means we have to drag him, so -”

“Din.” Kneeling in front of him, you reached out with both hands, settling them on his shoulders. “Stop. Just for a second.” He froze, his visor facing forward. You knew without seeing him that he was staring at you, and when you cocked your head to the side, he mirrored the motion, but stayed quiet. “I have bacta in my bag.” Removing your hands from him, you reached up, pulling your helmet off and setting it carefully on the ground beside you. The air feels good. I wish he would … 

You knew that Din wouldn’t remove his helmet in the open. There were still days he left it on in your home during daytime hours, but that didn’t mean that you had to do the same. Having your face uncovered made cleaning his injury up much easier, despite your hands shaking as you reached into your bag, removing the canister and uncapping it. 

Using your fingertips, you spread the hole in his suit open, aiming the nozzle and letting the liquid flow onto the wound. Din bit back a grunt of pain at the sensation, but was otherwise still, and when you were satisfied with the treatment you rocked back and onto your heels, nodding. “I’ll check it again when we get back to the ship, but that’s as good as I can do here.” 

“Thank you.” He reached up, two gloved fingers under your chin. “For taking care of me.” You’d been with him for years but the praise and admiration in his voice - even when it was modulated - always struck you as hard as it had the first time. And it always will. 

Rather than replying verbally, though, you leaned in, giving him a small smile before you pressed your lips to the smooth beskar of his helmet, just to the right of the t-shaped opening - and atop where his stubbled cheek would have been. You lingered there, eyes closed. When you felt his hands on your hips, grip tight, your smile grew. “You’re welcome, Din.”  

“We need to get back so I can make sure you really aren’t hurt .” He rose up onto his knees, using his hold on you to keep balance when he straightened up further. You let him help you to your feet, too, Din’s hold on you never loosening. When you were standing in front of Din, he nodded once, the gleam of his helmet bright in the light of the planet’s bright sun. “This is The Way.”

You didn’t even try to hold back your laugh at his declaration - one that you’d heard thousands of times before - reaching up to put your palm against the cheek you hadn’t kissed. “Whatever you say, Din.” He nodded again, that one little more than a slight tilt of his chin, but then he laughed at your next words, the sound amplified by the modulator in his helmet as it joined yours. “Unless you try to tell me it’s going to be easy again. Because today was not the -”

He bent down, picking your helmet up off the ground and handing it to you. You took it, still stifling your laughter. No matter how dangerous things got, or how unpredictable your life had become since meeting Din at a skughole cantina all those years ago, you wouldn’t have traded it for any number of credits in the galaxy. And I don’t think he would, either. 

— 

[absurdthirst]

Unexpectedly Mated {Alpha!Mando x F!Omega!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 6.1k

Warnings: Alpha/Omega dynamics, heats, denying biological needs, religious creeds, removing your helmet, jealousy, territorial aggression, fingering, first kisses, vaginal sex, rough sex, knotting, mates, marking

Comments: Forbidden to remove your helmet by Creed, Mandalorians deny their basic biological needs as Alphas and Omegas. The helmet blocks the scant of their true mate. Until an open air vent leads Mando to discover that you are his omega.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

*** When reblogging or talking about Omegaverse, please remember that ‘a/b/o’ without the slash punctuation marks (/) is considered a slur for the Aboriginal people in Australia.

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || The Mandalorian MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

“You must never remove your helmet.” The creed and these words drilled into you at a young age and you have never forgotten, would never be allowed to forget. The creed comes before all else. The covert comes before the individual. In a galaxy full of alphas, omegas, and betas…Mandalorians stood alone. Defying their biological status to better the covert, to keep the numbers up. You wear the helmet to not only protect your face but to keep you from recognizing your mate. The scent recognition of a mate is instant so the Mandalorian solution is to wear helmets with filters so that one can breed with anyone they prefer. Their minds are clouded with scent so the desire is the driving factor. The younglings are raised by the covert as a unit so the aim is to repopulate Mandalore. You suppress your omega urges with supplements and you’ve yet to breed. Too busy with bounty hunting alongside a certain Din Djarin. You’re drawn to him, that’s for sure, but you’ve never bred with him. He’s not interested in a family, in an ad. He wants credits. He wants to protect the foundling under his care and you’ve gone along for the ride.

“Din.” Your modulated voice calls out to him as he strides ahead of you after you reunited the frog woman with her husband. “The kid needs to eat.” You tell him, knowing you need to find the nearest cantina.

The sigh Din gives you is one of frustration and resignation. He likes the kid, he’s risked a lot to protect him, even his covert. The sins he has committed weigh heavily on his shoulders and he nods. “Come on.” He grumbles to the little one. “I know you’re hungry, we’ll get you something to eat.” Hopefully the Crest will be fixed soon. Unable to take off his helmet unless he is in his bunk is starting to frustrate him, the hermetically sealed space is starting to feel stale with the cycled air and he longs for a single breath of fresh air. He had also hoped to slip away for a moment, needing to find a medical facility to replace his implant. It had been damaged from his fight with Moff Gideon and he’s not had time to have it seen to. While he doesn’t visit a brothel or find a sexual partner often, he can feel the need to rut building up in his system. The alpha side he tries to suppress starts to bleed through his normally calm demeanor. 

You sit with the kid in the cantina, snorting when Din saves him from his own lunch and you glance around at the sailors. They mention Mandalorians and you are surprised to hear of your kind here, especially since Din wants to find them so he can help the kid return to his own planet. “Before we head off, maybe we can freshen up. I need to use the fresher and I’m sure you also want some time out of beskar.”

He groans at the idea of time outside the suit. Letting his skin breath and maybe he can work in a quick tug on his cock while he’s in the ‘fresher. “We’ll have to get rooms.” He reminds you, his head tilting towards yours. “Do you want to do that?”

You nod, “that sounds like a plan. I’m sure this one needs a nap after everything.” You say, reaching out to caress the kid’s ear. He coos at you and finishes his broth with a loud slurp. “Let’s find somewhere.” You say and throw some credits down for the broth. Din nods and you’re soon following him into the inn nearby. You are eager for a shower and some time out of the heavy beskar. Despite wearing it since you were a kid, you have always been weighed down by it. Din gets two rooms and you nod at him when he carries the now sleeping child into the room.

The child’s eyes never open, making Din chuckle quietly as he closes the pod and sets it in the corner of the room. Looking around to make sure the windows are covered before he reaches up and unlatches the edge of his helmet and groans quietly when he pulls it off his head. His hair is sweaty, but immediately the scent of the outside world is much more vivid. Making him inhale deeply and growl quietly at how good it all smells. Being an alpha as a Mandalorian was tricky, his own scent blocked by the helmet, but others could smell him. Making things difficult for him at times, especially when he cannot even walk around his own ship with his helmet unsealed because you are with him. Now, he sits on the edge of the bed, with his eyes closed and breathes deep, unaware that the vent between your two rooms has not been closed. 

You hum as you tilt your head under the water. An actual shower instead of the ‘fresher on the ship is a welcome surprise. You don’t realize the vent in your room is open so Din can smell you as your omega scent wafts through the room, warmed up from the shower and the water flowing onto your face blocks you from smelling Din.

It’s subtle at first. A teasing waft that caresses his nose and makes his cock twitch. The beautiful, heady scent of an omega. Making him groan quietly until the next wave hits him. His omega. The scent overwhelms him and he’s immediately hard, aching and desperate to claim the omega who is meant to be his mate. His mate. His eyes widen when he sees the vent opened, called to it as he follows the scent. It’s the vent that connects your room to his. You’re his mate.

You can feel a tugging in your stomach when you step out of the shower and you frown, wondering if you’re going to go into heat soon. You’ll need to get some more suppressants since you don’t have the time to spend days nesting while you are with Din. He doesn’t want you to be a needy omega holding him back from his quest. You dry off, shutting the door to the bathroom behind you and you lay down on the bed, unable to stop your hand from snaking down to rub your clit, a whimper escaping your lips.

Din snaps the vent closed. Hand curling into a fist as he pants against the shared wall. You’re his mate, his omega. His mind whirls as he tries to reconcile that new information with the stalwart and steady Mandalorian he has been bounty hunting with. He won’t deny that he wondered about fucking you before, it’s only natural that he would given how close you had been. His cock throbs as he imagines you in your armor, slowly stripping it off and walking around your room nude. Building a nest and begging him to join you. “Fuck.” He hisses.

You fall asleep naked on the bed after making yourself cum, relieving the ache in your stomach, enjoying being out of your beskar. You sleep until there’s a knock on the door and you groan, waking up and immediately grabbing your helmet to slide it onto your head. “It’s time to go.” Din says and you call out, “no problem. I’ll get ready and be right out.”

You redress in your beskar, your stomach still aching but you decide you’ll seek out some suppressants later. Opening the door, you find Din standing there with the kid. “Morning buddy.” You coo to the child and look up at Din who looks tense. “Everything okay?” You ask him, tilting your helmet. 

You know that Din can be all business but there’s something off about him. You ignore it and follow Din down the hall to find the sailors who are granting you passage on their boat to find the Mandalorians that are apparently on the planet. Later on, you admire the water as the raft moves along, glancing at Din who is stiff, well, stiffer than normal. “Are you sure you’re okay?” You ask softly, the sailors moving around behind you.

“Let me go!” You growl in anger, swinging your arm to fling a sailor into the water. Using your strength to try and untangle yourself from the ropes when Din and the child are in danger and that’s when they appear: the Mandalorians.

The redhead who introduced herself as Bo Katan shakes her head. “I’ve heard of your sect of the religion but Maker…I didn’t know how far it went in controlling its followers. On Mandalore, we wish for alphas and omegas to find their mate, it makes for stronger bonds, stronger families. We don’t - that is not something we dictate.” You swallow harshly as her words, feeling a tugging in your stomach that makes you want to lean towards Din but you push that aside. “You can remove your helmet and you would not be dar'manda.” Bo Katan explains and you’re so tempted.

Din stands up, angry at them for tempting him, tempting you. He shakes his head. “You are not mandalorian.” He growls, reaching down and takes your arm to pull you to your feet. “We are leaving.” He tells you, turning and striding away from the group angrily. 

You let Din guide you out of the cantina and you sigh, “Din. Slow down. Maybe…maybe they are telling the truth. As Mandalorians, we are denying our biological need. We are denying nature itself. Why? What- what good is it?” You ask him, the child in the pouch nestled against his hip.

“What good is it?” Din stops and spins around, crowding you slightly and even though you cannot smell it, pheromones pour off of him in heavy waves. All this talk of mates and finding out you are his has him desperate to claim you. To take what is his. “The Creed. That is what good it is. Our secrecy is our survival. We. Do. Not. Remove. Our. Helmets.” 

You shake your helmet, stumbling back away from him. “I do not want to breed with whomever the armorer tells me to. I want to find my mate. I want to feel complete.” You yell, quickly flicking the lock to your helmet and you waste no time lifting it off of your head in public for the first time since you were twelve. It hits you immediately. His scent. He’s an alpha. Your alpha. “You- oh Maker. Alpha.” You address him, your stomach twisting with sudden need for him.

Din hisses, his body jerking at the tone of your voice, the submissive nature of it. Calling to him. His hands curl into fists and he moves, shielding you from any eyes that could possibly see your face. “Put your helmet on.” He demands roughly, knowing that he cannot do this right now. He cannot have this conversation with you in the middle of a spaceport. 

Your lower lip trembles, feeling the rejection, and you shove your helmet back on your head, flicking the lock and his scent is replaced with fresh air through the filter. “Clearly you do not wish to have me as your omega so I am going to go back to the cantina. Perhaps another alpha can help with my heat.” You didn’t get a chance to pick up suppressants and the scent of your alpha has your stomach twisting with the sudden heat, the urge to mate and be claimed by him has you sweating already. You need to be touched and as much as you wish for it to be him, it’s obvious that he doesn’t want that. You spin on your heel before he can answer to make your way back into the cantina.

Growling, Din watches you walk off. Sighing when he knows he cannot follow you. The child is still beside him, looking up and cooing at him as if to tell him that he had fucked up. “Come on kid.” He grunts, turning and walking away from you even though his entire body is screaming to follow you. “I need to find someone to watch you.” He knows he cannot have a conversation with you around the kid, around anyone. He needs to find another room, then he will bring you back for a talk. 

You want to take off your helmet and down a spotchka or five, but Din’s command to not remove your helmet is ringing in your ears. You sit at the bar when you feel a presence next to you. “What’s a Mandalorian omega doing all alone?” He asks and you snort, “I haven’t got an alpha.” You state despite your chest aching, knowing you have an alpha but he doesn’t want you. On your walk to the cantina, you realized that Din didn’t question being your alpha. Which means he must’ve taken his helmet off at some point and found out. You wonder how long he’s known. Why he had kept it from you. “That’s good news for me, sweetheart. I’ve never been with a Mandalorian before and it smells like you might be needing an alpha at any moment.” He says, leaning closer and your stomach pangs with the beginning of a heat. 

“I- I ran out of suppressants.” You confess, turning towards him despite everything in you wanting to run to find Din.

The Frog Lady had agreed to watch the baby, leaving Din to go back to the little inn where you had stayed last night and get another room. He knows that he owes you a conversation, a real conversation and he cannot do that in public. Once he has the key, Din tucks it into his belt and sets off for the cantina. He knows you are angry at him, hurt. He wants to give you time to cool down for a moment, to think rationally again. To remember your creed so both of you can agree that nothing will happen until you can find the armorer again and speak with her. Striding confidently towards the seedy little bar, he is sure that it would work. 

You giggle when the alpha leans in, telling you a joke about Jawas and you are distracted for a moment from talking about your heat. He offers to buy you a drink but you decline, not wanting to take your helmet off, but it’s nice to talk to someone without them just giving you a grunt as an answer. You unconsciously lean closer to the alpha, your body heated as your biological need threatens to overwhelm you.

Walking into the bar, Din unlocks his helmet, unsealing it so he can smell you. Attraction and arousal, pouring from you and he follows the scent. Finding you sitting at the bar, another alpha leaning in, obviously interested in touching you, fucking you. The need to protect you roars to life in his chest and his alpha nature  rips through his self control. Moving quickly to you, barely resisting the urge to pull his blaster on the cocksure alpha who is grinning at his mate. “Get the fuck away from her.” He growls, shoving between the two of you and puffing up his chest, towering over the other man and trying to be as intimidating as possible.

You gasp at Din’s sudden appearance and you stand up from your stool. “Alpha.” You place your hand on Din’s chest plate to keep him back from the other alpha. 

“Hey buddy. Me and this omega were talking.” The alpha says and you wince under your helmet, knowing that he needs to shut up before he gets a blaster in the face. 

“Din, just leave him.” You huff, pissed that he is dictating what you can and can’t do.

“My omega.” Din growls, his hand inches away from his blaster and he stares hard at the man from behind his visor. “Move away.” He warns but the man scoffs and doesn’t look impressed. 

“She doesn’t seem taken. She seems like she’s real interested in getting to know me. ‘Bout to go into heat, needs an alpha buried in her cunt, knotting her.”

His words make you wince as you know Din, any alpha, wouldn’t allow them to speak about their omega that way. “It’s obvious you haven’t claimed her. What’s wrong, Mando? Not got the balls to do what needs to be done. She doesn’t smell like you. She smells wet. She smells ready for a cock. Clearly you aren’t enough for her. She wants to get fucked.” The alpha smirks, pushing Din’s buttons even more.

Din’s hand shoots out, wrapping it around the other alpha’s throat and squeezing harshly. Enjoying the way his pheromones immediately turned to ones of distress and his eyes bulge while his blue skin turns purple as the airways are cut off by the pressure of Din’s hand. “My omega.” Din rasps out, voice dangerously low and threatening. “Mine. Not yours. Mine.” The urge to kill him is clouding his thoughts, to demonstrate that you are his. That he would protect you.

“Alpha. Alpha. Don’t. He’s not worth it. I’m yours. I’m yours.” You promise Din, knowing that fact deep within your bones but you’re still furious with him. You place your hands on his chest plate, your helmet tilted towards his, “please. Just take me back to the inn. Don’t do this.”

Slowly, Din relaxes his fingers and lets go. Getting immense satisfaction when the other alpha gasps for air and immediately grabs his throat. He grabs your hands and ducks his shoulder down, hauling you over his shoulder like he would a bounty. Ignoring your shrieks as he storms out of the cantina with you.

You are shocked that Din is carrying you back to the inn and, you can admit to yourself, turned on by the primal display. "Din. Put me down!" You demand but he ignores you until he's in front of the room he had gotten for you. Finally putting you down. "I can't believe you did that." You shake your helmet and he opens the door.

 "Inside." He demands and you obey him immediately, stepping into the room. Din steps into the room, letting the door close and locking it behind him. “You were going to let him touch you?” He demands, pissed off that you were searching for someone, despite the fact that he had not immediately claimed you.

You feel defiant now despite being alone with your alpha. "I was. I am going into heat. If you didn’t touch me, I needed to find another alpha to satisfy my needs." You declare despite knowing that no one would give you what you need from Din. 

“You’ve worked through heats before.” Din growls, remembering how he had heard your whimpering cries from your bunk as you used your toys. It had been hard to deal with, when he hadn’t known he was your alpha. Wanting to offer you his cock the entire time, but he had respected your need for privacy. “Why not this time?”

“Because - because I wanted to feel wanted. I wanted someone to touch me who wanted to touch me, to make me feel something. I know you already knew I was your omega. You weren’t shocked when I found out you were my alpha. You didn’t - you didn’t sound surprised at all. How long have you known?” You ask, crossing your arms.

He leans back from you, surprised that you are attacking him and not liking it. “I-“ he huffs, rolling his eyes under his helmet and sighs. “Yesterday.” He admits quietly. “The vents between our rooms weren't closed. I-I smelled you when I took my helmet off.”

You are placated when you find out it was only yesterday but you’re still hurt that he didn’t tell you. “I didn’t smell you yesterday. I - I was showering and I -” You frown under the helmet. “You weren’t going to tell me, were you?”

“I- we-“ Din shakes his head. “You know what Mandalorians do.” He reasons with you. “The Armorer aligns breeding partners. I-“ He bites his lip under his helmet and sighs. “I was going to ask the Armorer for you, to be paired with you when we find them again.”

You understand where he is coming from but you feel frustrated by him. "Din. We - we are mates. What we have is...it's more than the creed. It's more than just breeding. It's how it is supposed to be. It's primal and raw. We are mates. Destined for each other and you've been by my side for so long yet neither of us knew what the other was meant to be. I want - I want you. I need you. Fuck the creed. Fuck the Armorer. You're my alpha and I - I want you. No matter what the consequences are." You say, "but if you don't want that - want me - I will leave. I'll go back to the covert and you can finish your quest alone."

He wants to argue against your comments, his heart twisting when he hears you say you would walk away. “Always wanted you.” He confesses quietly, breathing deeply and soaking in your scent. “Since the second week together. Watching you wipe the floor with that Twi.” He snorts, smirking slightly under his helmet. “Wanted you all the time.”

You chuckle, remembering that fight when you were both so much younger. You step towards him, "I have always wanted you. Always imagined you when I was in my nest." You confess softly, "I think I knew, unconsciously, that I was yours."

“I thought about you a lot.” Din confesses, taking a deep breath as he remembers what Bo Katan had said about mates being able to reveal their faces to each other. He takes a deep breath and reaches up to slowly start sliding his helmet off.

Your eyes widen under your helmet as Din exposes his face to you and you get your first look at his handsome face. "Maker. You are -" You can see him tense with anxiety and you reach up with your gloved hand to cup his cheek. "Mesh'la." You tell him, unable to tear your eyes away from those beautiful brown eyes. "Do you - you can remove my helmet...if you want."

He’s proud that you find him appealing. His one glimpse of you too fleeting for his own liking, finding you mesh’la as well. “I want to see you, omega.” He hums as he slowly reaches for your helmet. “My omega. My mate.”

You’re nervous for him to fully look at you without your helmets on, and your heart pounds beneath your chest plate. You bite your lip when your eyes meet his without the pixelated visor screen and his brown eyes soften. “Din. Alpha.” You murmur, watching him as he stares at you.

“Mesh’la.” He murmurs softly, staring into your eyes and feeling his cock harden beneath his flight suit as he smells and sees you clearly for the first time. He groans your name. “Omega.”

You ache for him, your heat curling in your stomach, and you wonder what he wants, if he still wants to wait until you return to the covert. “I don’t know what you want from me right now. Do you want us to put our helmets back on and continue on like this never happened until we return to the Armorer?” You ask, a little breathless.

“I cannot pretend I haven’t seen your face, smelled you.” Din groans, his eyes nearly closing in pain when a wave of arousal drifts over him. “I- you’re mine.” He growls again. “You are going into heat, I will take care of you.”

You whimper at his words, your body starting to get overheated with need. “Alpha.” You gasp, starting to work on removing your beskar, needing to feel the air on your hot skin. “I need you.” You pant, efficiently stripping down until you’re in your bra band and panties, boots kicked aside and you slide your hand into your panties, needing to rub your clit for some relief.

“Omega.” He growls, body tense and he steps forward, his need to touch you and take care of you nearly overwhelming his rational sense. He is about to touch you, still completely dressed in his armor except for his helmet. When he sees his gloves, he stops. “Get on the bed.” He orders, starting to strip down himself. Needing to press his skin to yours. “I will make sure you don’t need your fingers. You can have mine.”

You obey his order, shifting to lay down on the bed after reluctantly pulling your fingers out of your panties, and you watch him strip off. “Alpha. You are - you’re mesh’la.” You say, sitting up on your elbows to watch him, seeing the scars from blasters that grazed the vulnerable spots in his beskar and you want to kiss every one of them.

His own groan is one of pride and need, seeing you squirming on the bed, waiting for him. His omega, needy and wet. His hand wraps around his cock and he slowly starts to jerk himself. “You are mesh’la, cyar’ika.” He hums, eyes dark and full of lust. The waves of need and want roll off of you and mix with his own desire to fill the room. “My sweet little, omega. Wanting my cock, needing my knot.”

His voice, unmodulated, makes you shiver, and you watch him with wide eyes. “Yours, alpha.” You promise, reaching behind you to unclip your bra band, tossing it onto the floor to expose your tits to his gaze as he pumps his cock. You are aching for him. “Please. Alpha. I need your touch.”

He’s heard it before. The needy begging and calling to his alpha, but never from his mate. Growling, he scrambles onto the bed, one hand grabbing your breast while the other rips your panties off effortlessly.

You cry out in satisfaction as he quickly pushes two thick digits inside of you. “Yesss.” You hiss, feeling the ache assuage slightly with his digits curling deep inside of you. “Fuck, Din. Alpha. Yes.” You whine, tilting your head towards his.

It will be the first time he’s kissed anyone and it’s fitting that it’s his mate. His lips come crashing down against yours roughly as he curls his fingers inside you. Unskilled, he relies on what he had imagined doing, watching holo vids and jerking off when he was alone in his bunk. His tongue pushing into your mouth when you moan and he makes a feral sound of pleasure of his own.

You moan into his mouth, tangling your tongue with his and it’s unskilled but passionate. Your hands tangle in his hair, tugging slightly and you feel his cock twitch against your thigh. You’ve both had sex before, neither of you have kissed and it’s clumsy but you soon get the hang of it.

He feels like he doesn’t want to ever stop kissing you. Pumping his fingers deep inside your quivering cunt, he groans and rocks his hips against your belly. Loving how eagerly you respond to me.

You pant into his mouth, getting closer to orgasm with the way his fingers pump into you. "Alpha. I'm gonna- you're gonna make me - fuck!" You cry into his mouth as you clamp down on his digits, the ache in your belly satiated for a moment.

The first orgasm from his omega nearly makes him cum untouched. Din moans your name as he works you through the way your walls clench and your juices soak his hand. Pleasured pheromones pour off of you and he ducks his head down to press his tongue to your scent gland.

Feeling his tongue on your scent gland has you whining his name and your nails dig into his back, wanting him to bite you but he won’t until he’s ready. “I need you inside of me. Please, alpha.” You beg, gently pushing him off of you so you can shift onto your hands and knees for him.

Din growls, loving the submissive display, looking at your dripping cunt as you move to your hands and knees. Showing him how badly you need him. “My omega is eager.” He groans, slapping your ass and squeezing your hips as he throbs. He knows this first time will be rough. You know it too. Taking his cock on his hand, he shuffles forward and notches it at your entrance. Hissing when he snaps his hips forward ruthlessly and buries himself deep in your cunt.

Your breath is immediately pushed from your lungs and you gasp as he stretches you out. You fall forward onto your elbows and squeeze your eyes shut as he doesn’t hesitate to start moving inside of you. It’s rough and your body feels like it’s on fire. “Yes! Oh fuck, yes! Alpha. I- shit.” You curse, cunt fluttering around his cock.

You’re perfect around him. Gloriously tight and taking every harsh thrust with a choked moan as he starts to hammer into you. Need and the instinct to give you every piece of himself has him gripping your hips like you might get away from him and rocking deep to push up against your womb.

You grip the sheets beneath you, your cheek pressed against them as he pushes into you over and over again. “Fuck. Oh fuck Din.” You pant, thighs starting to shake as he pushes you closer and closer to orgasm with every harsh rock of his hips.

Suddenly, Din stops. Circling his hips as he lifts your and grinds into you. He was going to cum and he wants to make sure that you are satisfied before he gives into any of his own needs. “Fuck, omega, you are so perfect.” He grunts out, panting as he feels you squeeze him. “Are you going to be a good girl and take my knot? Let me breed you one day?”

You whine, deep from your throat. “Yesss. I’ll let you- have as many as you want, alpha. I want to be good for you. Want you to be happy.” You pant, thighs shaking still as he grinds deep and his hand spreads wide until his thumb is pressing against your clit.

“Good girl.” He growls out, twitching inside you. He’s imagined breeding you before, many times, even before knowing you were his omega. Hoping that working with you would cause the armorer to place you together to breed. It was why he let you on his ship. “Fuck, I- you feel so good ‘mega. So fucking tight around my cock.”

Your nails dig into the sheets and you are desperate for him to make you cum. The fire in your belly is burning and sweat beads on your forehead. “Alpha. Please.” You whine, grinding yourself back onto him. “I need - need to cum. It burns.” You almost sob with need.

“It’s okay,” he coos, rubbing your clit as he starts rocking into you again. “Your alpha is going to take care of you. Make sure your little cunt is happy by the time you leave this bed.”

You grind back onto him, his hips still not moving as he rubs your clit, and you practically sob with relief when you cum. Clamping down on his cock, you moan his name, his designation, and soak him. “Yessss.” You hiss, thighs violating shaking as you ride your high.

“Fuck.” He groans, his hands tightening on you as he feels you cum around him. “It’s so good, cyar’ika. My omega.”

You slump into the sheets, the burning dissipating for a moment so you can catch your breath and Din’s fingers dig into your hips. “Alpha. Maker, I need - I want you to knot me. Please. Fuck me hard.” You beg breathlessly.

“Yes, yes, my ‘mega can take it.” He growls proudly. “Take my cock and beg for more.” As he starts to thrust harder, it feels like he’s going to beat the bed through the wall, knocking the headboard against the panel with a loud clang every time he pushes deep.

“I can take it. I want more. Always want more. Please baby. Fuck me. Fuck me harder, Alpha.” You demand, your hands coming out to stop yourself from being squashed against the headboard.

He wants to bite you, to mark you as his even though no one would ever see your marks except him. His secret claim on you under your armor. His hisses out your name and manages to increase his frantic pace. “Fuck, fuck, Dank ferik.”

You whine his name, “Alpha. Oh Maker. You - it’s - oh shit. Shit. Shit.” You wail as you cum again, clamping down on his cock and gushing around him, feeling his knot starting to catch and you know he’s close. “Cum. Cum for me.” You beg breathlessly, reaching back to touch his hand on your hip.

Din collapses on top of you, Pushing you down to the bed, hips never stopping as he drives into you again and again. Fucking you into the bed as if that was his singular focus in life. “Gonna, gonna cum.” He grunts out, warning you. “K-knot you.”

“Do it. Fuck, I need it. Need it, Alpha.” You beg and he pushes deep just as his knot catches, his seed painting your walls with spurt after spurt. You whine in pleasure, feeling satisfied and you tilt your neck. “Make me yours, Din.”

The audible pop of his knot slipping into you releases a feral growl from deep in his chest. Unable to stop himself, his face turns towards your neck and his teeth sink into your scent gland. Marking you as his irrevocably.

You cum again from the pleasure of being tamed and from him knotting you. You sigh into the sheets when Din licks the mark he left on your skin. “I love you.” You confess, “even before I found out you’re my alpha. I’ve always loved you.” You confess with your eyes closed.

Din sighs softly and even though he could not pull away from you because of his knot, he wraps his arms around you to keep you close. “I had hoped the armorer would pair us together.” He confesses quietly. “That's why I let you join my crew.”

He shifts onto his side and you curl back into his chest, “whatever happens…it’s you and me and the kid. Even if we have to leave the covert. I would like to keep you, to keep you safe.” You promise him and he leans in to nuzzle your neck.

“Kar’ta.” He murmurs, feeling like he is complete for the first time since his nature was revealed. His other half is in his arms and he wants nothing more than to keep you there. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome.” He whispers softly, wondering if you will repeat the wedding vows back to him. “Mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

You smile and squeeze his forearm. “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome. Mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” You repeat back, turning your head to look at him, “riduur.” You whisper, kissing his jaw, “my riduur.”

“Riduur.” His spouse. You are married to him now, his - both by your nature and by your religion. “I will keep you and the child safe.” He vows, his hand sliding down to your stomach. “And any who follow.”

You kiss his lips softly, smiling against him as you place your hand over his on your stomach. “We will face whatever we need to face together. My riduur. My alpha. And when we are ready, I’ll happily have your children. Maybe we can settle on Navarro. Get a little cottage and live a peaceful life together.” You vocalize the dream you’ve had for years.

“That would be good.” He knows that it might never happen, but he wishes for it. “First we must finish our quest.” He hopes to find the armorer again and have you declared a clan of three. It will take some time, but you have time. Both of you have implants to prevent a child and his knotted cock twitches inside you as he thinks about filling you with his baby.

“Finish the quest.” You agree, “then we have the rest of our lives together. I love you, Din Djarin. My alpha.” You murmur, kissing his jaw again. “Whatever happens, we will face it together as mates. As partners.” You promise, unsure of the road ahead but you will be together, connected as one, and you will ensure the child’s safety. This is the way.

[chaotic-iguana]

HI OMG UR FICS ARE INTOXICATING WTH!!!

Can I please req a Din Djarin where he and the reader are travelling together and reader is bubbly/sunshine personality and then she admits her feelings and Din doesn’t reciprocate at first.. then her personality changes and she’s all sad and he can’t stand it!!!! Cause he does love her and he can’t bare to see her that way!!!

Super angst and fluff please 😭😭😭😭 THANK H IF U DECIDE TO WRITE THIS 🤍🤍

HELLO THANK YOU SO MUCH!! ofc im writing anything u request lysm ur the best plus the prompt is so adorable ahufsdkfjhfs. just to try sumth new, im gonna switch it up and do this one from din’s pov. lmk what you think!!

Enough

Summary: Din rejects reader when she confesses her feelings to him even though he feels the same, only to regret it later.

Pairing: Grumpy! Din x Sunshine! Reader (no use of y/n)

Wordcount: 2.6k

Warnings: none, just a lot of angst and fluff

masterlist

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Din Djarin was not a good man. He was aware of this, which is why he was careful not to get to close. Not to taint things with his darkness; the destruction that seemed to shadow him wherever he went. He learned to turn his head away when you sung softly to the child, to clench his fists and keep himself from reaching for you when you giggled at your own terrible (adorable) jokes, to steel himself against your pleas to purchase every single fuzzy fabric you saw, no matter the form. Socks, blankets, shirts, trousers, even a kriffing hat, which Din stopped and let you buy just to stop the stares he was getting from people at the way you were practically jumping in your spot, pointing at the shop’s display. 

But despite his best wishes, Din was not a strong man, either. Not as strong as he needed to be, to resist you. You, with a beaming smile that never failed to make him blush under his helmet; with tender, caring hands that looked so soft that Din wanted to rip his beskar off so you could brush them against him, just once. Your hair, which smelled so sweet that Din could catch traces of it through the beskar. Your eyes, almost siren-like when you blinked up at him while rambling away about something. The way you scrunched your nose with a snort when you couldn’t hold in a laugh. The fact that you had never, ever asked for his name - or an explanation of his helmet, for that matter - even when he knew you hadn’t heard of Mandalorians before. The lilting notes of laughter in your voice before you turned to him with a sly smile, offering him with a witty quip he would have killed others for voicing, before throwing back your head and howling. No, Din was nowhere near strong enough to stand a single damn chance against you. 

He could hear you humming to yourself and the baby while you heated some broth, stopping to lean down and pepper kisses all over Grogu’s face as he cooed happily. Walking into the cockpit, he grunted in acknowledgement of your “Hey, Mando! Sleep well?” before turning to the child and nudging his helmet against his wrinkly forehead. When he turned around to see a gentle smile gracing your face in acknowledgement of the scene in front of you, he straightened up and cocked his helmet as if daring you to comment. 

He was itching for a fight: something, anything to stop the sweet torture of your presence which seemed to breathe life into your surroundings, no matter where you stood. You’d find a way to brighten a graveyard, Cyar’ika. Your smile tightened slightly before you presented him with a bowl of his own, brushing past him to take the child in your arms and leave the cockpit. Every muscle in his body was tense, his mind begging him to let you stay, to apologise for his hostility. To hear you prattle on about something menial while he ate, to revel in the domesticity of being with you. Not like that, of course. You were simply too good for him. Too perfect; too pristine. Your eyes too bright and your heart too soft for him to be worthy of your love. And so Din slipped off his helmet, ducked his head, and ate in silence.

He had noticed that lately, you still spoke to him, but you’d leave with the child more often. He could hear conspiratorial whispers sometimes, the child nodding and babbling his own input as if the two of you were hiding something. You weren’t awkward around him, per se, just less readily giving of your laughter, your jokes, your mindless chatter. All Din knew was that his mind would not rest unless he confronted you, and soon. A restless yearning for your erratic, unnecessarily bright gestures gave way to the anxiety spooling in his gut. Had you finally seen him for what he is?

So later that day, after the supply run when you had fed and put Grogu to sleep, he approached you in the cockpit. He shuffled uneasily behind you, shifting his weight from side to side as he waited for you to break the silence. But uncharacteristically, you just continued to stare into hyperspace without a word. When Din cleared his throat, you turned your head his way. But your gaze was flitting around; your hands fiddling nervously in your lap. Why were you apprehensive? 

“Are you…” Din swallowed, unsure of how to phrase his question, “okay?” Are we okay?You looked up at him then, your eyes wide with anxiety, before looking down at your lap again. Could you be…scared? Of me? 

But then you took a deep breath; the nerves fading from your face and giving way to a look of complete resignation, your shoulders slumping with the weight of inevitability. Your gaze met his visor, and he could see that your fingers were lightly curled into fists.

“I don’t really know how to do this, Mando.” Another deep breath. The colour has faded from your face and suddenly you seemed so small, folded in on yourself, that Din had never had to wrestle harder with his own self-control to stop himself from pulling you into his chest and holding you; comforting you, until you’re back to your bouncy self. “You know that I like most people, right?” He nods; you do seem to like and be liked by most people he’s come across, even the ones he would deem unworthy to so much as look at you. 

“I’ve always really enjoyed meeting new people, and making friends. Life is easier when you’ve got people, right?” You’re rambling again, but instead of the usual enthusiasm lacing your tone, crippling worry dripped from your every word. Are you leaving him? 

“I think-I know that I like you more than I like everyone else. Anyone else. I like everything about you more than I’ve ever liked about anyone else and I just…” you trailed off, gulping. “It feels like you and Grogu are my family, already. And I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you might want more than this, like I do. I-fuck it-I’m in love with you, Mando.” And then you’re shying away from him again, biting your lip as you search his visor for a reaction. 

You’re in love with him? This has to be a joke. Din waited for the catch, standing unmovingly in front of you as if waiting for one of your signature punchlines to come tumbling out of your mouth. When it doesn’t, he just gaped at you, his mind overwhelmed with too many thoughts to even say anything. A part of him had never been happier than this moment right here; never loved you more than right now. But the other, more dominant part of him was practically reprimanding him. And what now, idiot? Profess your undying love to her and subject her to a life as the wife of a bounty hunter? No comfortable homes, no proper vacations or even neighbors. A life on the run. With you, dikuit - a man who has never been loved enough to understand how to reciprocate. There is nothing you can give her. There is nothing you can do. 

Din bristled under your gaze, suppressing a wince at the words that came out of his mouth next. “You mean to tell me that you are in love with a man you have never even see the face of? A man who hasn’t even told you his name? Stop lying to yourself. There is no ‘family’. You are the child’s caretaker, and nothing more. It would be best for you not to forget that in the future.” He wanted to slap a hand to his mouth, to bite his tongue - anything, anything not to see the way you wilted in front of him as his words registered. You slumped further in the chair, shoulders curving inwards as you brought your knees to your chest to curl up into a protective position, as if he was hurting you. Frustrated by the fact that he could neither pull you in his arms to comfort you, nor find it in himself to continue spewing bullshit he didn’t mean, Din just turned and walked away. He pretended not to hear the muffled crying echoing through the ship that night. 

——————————————————————————————————

That had been three weeks ago. He’d gone for a hunt right after, returning within the week. What he found back at the ship made a part of him wish he wouldn’t have returned at all. Your eyes sat bloodshot on hollow cheeks, sunken in your face as dark blotches formed under them. You were quiet, even with the concerned child - all the singing, humming goneas if it had never been. Grogu kept gesturing to you when he father looked his way, as if asking what was wrong. Din knew what was wrong. He just didn’t know how to fix it. He couldn’t find it in himself to leave you alone again, so he’d been mumbling excuses to you each morning as to why he was still on the ship. You’d never answer, just offering him the barest dip of your chin. Din hadn’t just rejected you-he’d been cruel about it. And he hadn’t slept since the night he’d spat those pathetic words at you in an effort of self-preservation, either. The moment kept replaying in his head over and over: your initial nervousness, the words you’d said to him, and your wince at the ones he’d reciprocated with. 

But like he’d admitted: Din Djarin was not a strong man. For you; only for you, he would crumble. To see your usual cheeriness replaced by this emptiness nearly made his knees buckle. You’d stopped eating, too - quietly slipping your food to Grogu, whose concern was overridden by his constant hunger. He’d done this: out of fear of hurting you, he’d reduced you to a mere shadow of what you used to be by doing it anyways. Out of his fear of fucking it up, he’d gone and done that exact thing without even trying to make it work. It was unacceptable to him, to go without hearing your laugh or your jokes or your humming. Not to see you giggling with Grogu. Fix it then, dikuit. So he would. 

Din walked into the cockpit, picked Grogu up from his place on the floor, and whispered a soft apology to him before shutting him in his cot. Grogu, ever-understanding, had just pressed a claw to his helmet and nodded as if wishing him luck. Thanks kid, I’m going to need it. He’d seen your confusion when he had taken Grogu out of the cockpit, but youremained mute. Walking back towards you, Din could feel his chest hurting at the way your hands shook and your eyes glossed over when he got closer. 

“I’m sorry.” His words have no effect; a tilt of your head is the only proof you offer to show that you heard him. Ironic, isn’t it, to be at the receiving end of what I do to others all the time? “For how harsh I was. I didn’t mean it.” Your mouth opens this time, but he raises a hand to stop you. If he doesn’t get this out now, he never will. “I was the one lying to myself, not you. I fell in love with you a long, long time ago, ner’karta. But I was scared-still am-because I have nothing good to give you. Not like what you deserve. My creed alone means that I can’t show you my face until we get married. My job doesn’t allow me stability. I have never been…loved. I do not know how to love you properly. All I know is that it doesn’t feel like a good morning until you say it, that I feel myself flushing under my beskar when you smile at me, that I have to bite my lip to stop a chuckle when you tell me your jokes. All I know is that since you’ve come into my life and made it brighter, it seems I can’t face the darkness alone again. These past two weeks have been hell, cyar’ika. I cannot bear to see you like this. Please forgive me. I will drop you off anywhere you wish to go.” 

And then your face is twisting and you’re sobbing - large, shuddering sobs that alarm Din when they begin. He reaches a tentative hand out towards you slowly, giving you more than enough opportunity to slap it away. When you don’t, he steps closer and pulls you into his chest. As I should have done then. You shake with the force of your hiccups, and Din reaches to rip off his gloves before wrapping his arms around you, a warm hand coming to cradle your head against him. All he can say is a feverish repetition of “I’m sorry, I’m sorrymy love, please forgive me”. 

By the time your tears subside, you can hear sniffs coming from under the helmet too; his modulated voice cracking and giving away his own crying. “Y-you don’t get to-to decide for me. You can’t decide whether or not you can offer enough or whether you can love me properly or not. Just love me, Mando. All you have to do is try.” Your voice is so fragile, so tentative as you speak into his chest that Din’s heart aches at the pain he can hear in it. You continue, “I don’t need stability from you, nor do I need your name or face. To have your heart is enough.” And though you can’t see it, Din has to shut his eyes and brace himself against the weight of his own tears this time. His chest warming, butterflies in his stomach as he tucks you impossible closer.

“Like I said, cyar’ika, you’ve had it for a very long time.” And then you’re smiling again, as Din’s knees threaten to buckle from the force of emotion that wells up at the sight. You’ve pulled back from his chest, but stay close enough to graze his helmet with your nose.

“Is that so, Mando? Do I want to know how long?” You whisper back, somehow looking straight into his eyes despite the visor. 

“Din.” At your frown, he clarifies hesitantly. “My name, cyar’ika. Din Djarin.” You beam brighter, repeating it to yourself. “Wait - cyar’ika? You started calling me that last year, when you were annoyed I bought that fuzzy green hat with frog ear and Grogu tried to eat it on the way home. I thought it was like a swear word, or something -not that I think you would swear at me, you just seemed very annoyed, you know?”

A chuckle slips past his modulator, before he gives in completely. “Close your eyes, please.” When you comply, he rips his helmet off and cups your jaw with his hand, thumb stroking your cheek. Leaning in, he presses his mouth to yours gently, leaning back to look at you. “Beloved, cyare. It means beloved.” Before he can say anything else, your hands tangle in his hair, and suddenly you’re pulling him back into another kiss. And another. And another. 

You two remain so wrapped up in each other that you actually forget to leave the cockpit until Grogu stomps in, having apparently broken out of his cot, and begins babbling at you both angrily, before seeing the smile on your face after so long and hurtling towards you at full speed, nearly tripping on his robes in the process before you catch him in your arms. 

It was true, though. You didn’t need Din to go out of his way to give you anything. This was enough. 

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore

[kurlyfrasier]

Hi ! I was just wondering if you were planning to keep writing for Silent Cargo? No worries if you’re not, just thought it was an interesting story :) I also loved the Beskar Kisses one! Hope you’re doing well ✨

Yes, I plan to keep writing for Silent Cargo. I can't promise it'll be quick or any time soon. I write on that one when inspiration hits since I'm not sure where it's going, exactly. lol I'm along for the ride on that one, same as you! 😁 I'm so glad you find it interesting!

I'm glad you loved Beskar Kisses! It's probably one of my favorites I've written! 😊😊😊

And I'm doing pretty well! Thank you for asking! I hope you're doing even better! Thank you for the ask 😎 I always enjoy receiving them

[gatorbites-imagines]

Cockwarming with (mandalorian) m reader x anakin please?👉🏻👈🏻

Anakin Skywalker x Mandalorian Male reader

Drabble

I miss Anakin so much… I’m so exhausted from classes, send help. This takes place somewhere during the clone wars. Reader is a part of a covert of some kind, cuz I’m not making the reader Death Watch.

On the short side, but I enjoyed writing it. This became kinda lovey-dovey, even though i didnt mean too lmao.

Anakin sighed breathlessly as he sat in your lap, his front against yours as his legs were hooked around your middle. It was very difficult, if not outright impossible for you two to spend any time together ever since the war started. With Anakin leading his own group of clones and being well known across the galaxy as the hero with no fear, to you being a Mandalorian member of a covert, meaning you didn’t want any attention on you, or said covert.

But there were times you two could find little pockets in your busy convoluted schedules to spend some time together, even if that meant Anakin having to sit in your lap as you were seating in the pilot seat of your ship, the galaxy outside rushing by thanks to hyperspace. Normally you two would have used this little time you had together to get a quick fuck in, to get as much out of one another as possible and to wring the other dry. But something must have happened on Anakin’s last mission, as he had situated himself in your lap, seating himself on your cock and just feeling you.

Anakin was never one for patience, so it left worry niggling in the back of your head as your jedi lover slowly rolling his hips. There wasn’t any exact purpose to his movements, there was no hurry to get either of you over the edge, there was simply a search for closeness and love.

You could feel him kissing at the little piece of skin exposed between your helmet and the flight suit you wore, Anakin’s hands loosely gripping your biceps as he sucked a hickey the one area he was able. It was a shame you couldn’t take your helmet off around him, not without you two getting married, but you hoped the day would come soon. Instead, Anakin had to settle with kissing your chin, or the few times you would pull your helmet up high enough for him to kiss you on the lips.

Soft praise in mandoa passed from your lips as his insides squeezed slightly around your shaft, making you groan softly in appreciation. You were nowhere near close, but that didn’t seem to matter to either of you. All that seemed to have any importance right now was the fact that you were inside him, and Anakin was warming you, creating a connection that could only be shared between lovers.

It was the closest you two could get in some cases. You weren’t force sensitive, and even if you were, the beskar of your armor wouldn’t have allow any type of mind connection, so warming your cock was another way to feel that type of closeness. That’s what Anakin said at least.

With a kiss to the top of his head through your helmet, you settled your hands on his hips, lazily rocking him along to the pace he had set himself, satisfaction filling your veins when he sighed softly in warm pleasure and devotion, a deep burning feeling that was returned just as strongly in yourself.

As the stars rushed by outside the windows of your ship, you reached up to push your helmet up just enough to expose your lips, the lips that rarely saw the light of day, and were so rarely seen by another person. Anakin peeks an eye open and cracks that handsome smile of his that always has your heart fluttering, and with a soft pull at his hips, he leans in and carefully kisses you. His insides squeeze around you, making you huff against his lips, but Anakin just laughs.

You may not have the force, and you may have to live a life in secret, hidden away from the very republic that Anakin fights for, but your love for him burns bright, and you wouldn’t change it for anything.

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Waking up on New Year's Day With the Clones - Command Edition

Inspired by @freesia-writes and her lovely New Years Eve with the Clones drabbles! I wrote these on my phone datapad in bed while waking up on New Year's Day and doing precisely none of these things.

Rex: You crack one eye open just as he's slipping back into bed with you. It's seven AM. He's already gone for a run and had a shower. You mumble something incoherent, and he tucks you in against him, kisses your forehead, and tells you to go back to sleep. “Happy New Year, cyar’ika.”

Cody: He surprises you with breakfast in bed, and it isn't ration bars. It's your favorite breakfast, the one you only really eat on special occasions, and he executes it flawlessly. When you get up afterwards, you discover the kitchen is already clean. There's nothing to do for the rest of the day but relax and have fun, whatever that means to you.

Wolffe: You ARE his breakfast in bed. 😏

Fox: There is no such thing as morning. You both sleep until one PM, and when you finally stumble out of bed, you only make it as far as the caf machine before collapsing on the sofa. He chugs his caf and then falls back asleep, lying between your legs with his head resting on your belly while you scroll on your datapad.

Mayday: You wake up slowly to the soft caress of his fingertips on your shoulder. You have no idea how long he's been awake, but the way he looks at you makes you feel like the only person in the galaxy. You don't get out of bed for a few more hours.

Neyo: He wakes you up with a hangover cure and a tube of bacta. You have glitter in places you did not know glitter could exist. After an abortive attempt at crawling out of bed, you both fall back asleep for another three hours.

Bacara: He wakes you up to go for a run, and it's not optional. He ignores your complaints and death threats, and when you get home, he rewards you with a long shower together, followed by a breakfast smoothie that is surprisingly delicious. He opts not to tell you that he set a personal worst speed record for a kilometer.

Happy New Year! I hope 2025 is your best year yet. 💋

Taglist:

@523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49 @arcsimper5 @clio3kantarella

@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream

@littlemissmanga @marierg @idontgetanysleep @lonewolflupe

@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine

@heavenseed76 @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam

@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @cw80831 @flyiingsly

@lightwise @swcowgal @vrycurious @thora-sniper

@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose

@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @kimiheartblade

@dangraccoon @transactivecybermemory @etod @somewhere-on-kamino

@burningnerdchild @saneabandoned @heidnspeak @maniacalbooper @mae-lou-ron

[moonpascaltoo]

din djarin - the mandalorian

MASTERLIST • PEDRO PASCAL CHARACTERS • 06/01/24

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs

𑣲 significant pt2 I @softlyspector

Din has been calling you riduur for months. You finally find out what it means, and get a little more than you bargained for.

𑣲 request I @/softlyspector

𑣲 jealousy!din I @/softlyspector

𑣲 request I @/softlyspector

𑣲 pregnant!reader I @/softlyspector

𑣲 common mistake I @theidiotwhowritesthings

𑣲 in a perfect world, you love me pt2 I @/theidiotwhowritesthings

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

𑣲 familiar and unfamiliar I @/theidiotwhowritesthings

You travel the galaxy with a Mandalorian who is much softer than his impenetrable beskar would lead others to believe. He leaves you with his son to search for a Quarry, but it’s not the Mando you’ve come to know and love who returns to you.

𑣲 bucket of bolts I @rosepascal

The dad and the dog he didn't want but its Din Djarin and a BD unit.

𑣲 push and pull I @sinsofsummers

after convincing him to help you hide from the guild, you teach mando how to enjoy himself. this is the way.

𑣲 touching din I @archieimagines

The three times that Din bends his own rules and engages in physical touch. 

𑣲 secrets I @absurdthirst

Reader gets drunk and mouthy. Mando wrestles with his own sense of sexuality and wonders if he can fulfill the desires of his crew member.

𑣲 pure beskar I @bits-and-babs

𑣲 kiss the scars I @januaryembrs

You and Mando are forced to remove your helmets to save the child. But to you, it means more than breaking your creed. To you, it means revealing the thing you're most insecure about.

𑣲 kar’taylir I @the-archxr

the four times Din Djarin almost says it, and the one time he does. alternatively, the four times you almost say it, and the one time you do.

𑣲 my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand I @thefrogdalorian

When you and your Mandalorian companion are ambushed by a group of bandits, you hope that his stubborn nature will not make the task of treating his wounds any more difficult than it needs to be. But that is not the only obstacle. You also hope that the depth of your unrequited feelings for Din will not impact on your ability to care for him...

𑣲 downpour I @/thefrogdalorian

Leading a solitary, nomadic existence for much of his life means that Din Djarin has never cuddled up to someone he loves during a rainstorm. Until one night in his cabin on Nevarro, when unseasonably poor weather introduces him to one of life’s simple pleasures.

𑣲 pretty picture I @groguspicklejar

Din would do anything to keep any outside threat from touching his clan.

𑣲 keep it down I @multifandombitxh

𑣲 creed I @wheresarizona

Upon meeting Bo-Katan Kryze and discovering there are other Mandalorians out in the galaxy who remove their helmets, Din Djarin is suddenly questioning his beliefs and unable to stop from wondering what you, his wife, look like under your own helm.

𑣲 i need you more than i wanted to I @peterparkersnose

Y/N overhears a damaging conversation between Din and Greef Karga

𑣲 face to face I @bluebeary-jay

as riduurs, you and Din can finally show your faces to each other without suffering any consequences. but when the time finally comes, your insecurities and fears of rejection come into play, threatening to ruin this important moment.

𑣲 united we fall I @dindjarindiaries

Din’s unable to control the Darksaber and accidentally hurts you with it, leaving behind a deep scar on your body and his mind.

𑣲 untitled I @/dindjarindiaries

𑣲 everything i wanted I @/dindjarindiaries

You’re trapped inside a Din x Omera love triangle, struggling to get to your lover who’s entranced with your new host.

𑣲 courting I @writerlyhabits

𑣲 request I @/writerlyhabits

Din’s partner figures out they’re pregnant, and is terrified. They aren’t married, this is the worst time possible, Din already has so much responsibility on his shoulders. But they have to tell him. Because Din deserves to know. She’s terrified of what his reaction might be, if he’d be angry, or excited, or dismissive, etc.

𑣲 shine and polish I @/writerlyhabits

Din catches you cleaning/polishing his armor for him (something usually only done between courting Mandos) and gets all shy explaining the implications to you

𑣲 lost in translation I @flowersforjude

A night in a beautiful meadow and an innocent question leads to a startling confession.

𑣲 not that easy I @backtothefanfiction

When Din realised he was starting to have feelings for you, he got scared. Snuck away before sunrise and left you stranded on Nevarro. When you catch up to him on Tatooine, you have a few choice words for him.

𑣲 caught in 4k I @beskarandblasters

You catch Din watching porn and discover his secret; his breeding kink.

𑣲 you’re the loss of my life I @/beskarandblasters

You reminisce on your time with your riduur after his death.

𑣲 kiss me thru the comlink I @/beskarandblasters

𑣲 the sweetest melody I @noisynaia

𑣲 uncharted territory I @pedrito-friskito

𑣲 beneath the mask I @saradika

when a mysterious stranger wins your hand at the tournament, you can't help but wonder about his intentions

𑣲 where to start I @tremendum

Din lets out a shaky sigh, finally turning around in the chair to face you, legs spread slightly, “it’s not like- I don’t not want to- I just haven’t-I don’t know where to start." 

𑣲 mine I @thefanbasewhore

Din says goodbye to reader and Grogu but once they are reunited Din has mixed feels about the situation, jealous of Luke

𑣲 beautiful truths I @haylzcyon

After hiring you for your unique ability of being able to detect lies, the Mandalorian unknowingly consumes a tea that has adverse effects. You decide to help him, and find out some surprising truths along the way.

𑣲 best kept secret I @lincolndjarin

Married off to a prince on a planet that you hate? New husband doesn't know you, and doesn't want to know you? New husband gifts you a personal Mandalorian body guard as a wedding present? Mandalorian is a wiseass who won't leave you alone? Lucky you.

𑣲 of beskar and kyber I @penvisions

You’ve been on the run for as long as you can remember, from a lot of different people and a lot of different things. Everyone seems to see you as either a prize to show off or a captive to exploit. You had been successful in keeping a low profile and evading brief captures. That is until your mother contracted the Guild and the Mandalorian came to possess your tracking fob. Will he be the reason your freedom is no longer something attainable or will he be the one to help you achieve it in ways you never anticipated? 

𑣲 expanding clan mudhorn I @iron-strangers

Din Djarin met a former jedi padawan who, after surviving order sixty-six, was adopted and raised as a Mandalorian. This series explores the journey of their growing clan as Din juggles the newfound responsibility of being the Mand'alor.

𑣲 supply of run part two part three I @thepascalofus

You’ve been Mando’s crew partner for a year now. Throughout that year Mando has warmed up to you and given you signs that your heart throbbing crush on him is reciprocated. There’s one thing making you hesitate. The condoms he bought on the most recent supply run.

𑣲 ever since we met, i only shoot up with your perfume I @yeollie-plz

You receive a new perfume, Din really likes your new perfume.

𑣲 tear in my heart I @suresnips

after a rough encounter with a bounty leaves him worse for wear, din needs your help to patch himself up. little do you know he's struggling with more than just external injuries.

𑣲 quarry I @ak-vintage

Din Djarin is on what he expects to be his last bounty hunt for Greef Karga. After all, Nevarro is swiftly moving away from its previous reputation as a Guild member’s paradise, and Din has more important concerns now, like finding a Jedi to train his mysterious foundling. However, after capturing a wanted starship engineer who would rather go anywhere other than “home,” the Mandalorian is forced to reassess his priorities. Your taste of freedom had been brief but glorious. Now you are a prisoner of the most infamous bounty hunter in the Outer Rim – it’s only a matter of time before he turns you in. There isn’t much you would not do to keep from being sent home, but as you find yourself growing closer to your captor and his strange little companion, you start to wonder whether escape is really what you want.

𑣲 i’d look for you I @jolalibrary

din offers you something else in a field of wildflowers

[decembermidnight]

Who do you belong to?

Summary: You go to the healing baths to massage Mando's hot body with oil. After that, in the hot springs, he makes sure that everyone understands you only belong to him.

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Word count: 5.5k

Warnings: no plot - just smut, 18+ mdni, body worship, teasing, unprotected sex, switching (dom!din, sub!reader, sub!din, dom!reader), titjob, exhibitionism, public sex, possessive!din, creampie, facial, praise kink, degradation kink, brief and vague mentions of sex work

A/N: This oneshot is based on a dream I had. This is also the first time I'm writing sub!din and I absolutely loved it and uhm what can I say except you'll see more in the future? As always, I hope you enjoy it. Comments and reblogs are appreciated. Divider: @saradika-graphics

Masterlist - Read on Ao3

The Mandalorian's whole body hurts like hell after his last excruciating hunt. You want to give him a well-deserved massage to let him know how much you appreciate what he does, to help him relax and alleviate his pain, but you don’t want to do that in the cold, dark hull of his ship, so you decide to go to the most renowned healing baths of the outer rim - a place that has private massage rooms and restorative hot springs, even if most of its regulars go there for the brothel.

When you’re discreetly asked if you would like some company for the night, he is quick to turn down the offer. 

"I already have" he then whispers in your ear, hugging you from behind and lowering the hem of your dress to expose your nipple "my whore." his voice is calm and husky as he starts to delicately circle your nipple with his gloved finger right there in the mess of the busy hall, crowded by unaware customers and workers waiting to be chosen for the night. You let out an aroused sigh and lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder as you feel your cunt already throbbing with need.

His hand won’t leave your waist as you walk towards your private room for the night, and when you finally get there, you can only catch a glimpse of what it looks like - dimly lit by candles, a big and comfortable massage bed in the centre - before he locks the door and pins you against the wall, closing your eyes with his hand. You hear the metallic thud of the beskar helmet falling on the floor and immediately feel his lips on yours as your fingers start running through his messy hair.

His mouth is greedy and lustful and the way he desires your lips drives you wild, making you hold him tighter, craving for more. You kiss each other in a longing, warm and passionate way. He sticks his tongue in your mouth and you can’t help letting out a moan when you feel it finally meeting with yours.

"What a dirty girl. You like letting me take out your tits in front of everyone, don’t you?" he growls in between hungry kisses.

"Fuck, yes, I do." you’re a panting mess already, incredibly turned on just by the way he’s kissing you.

"Do you like being looked at while I touch you, knowing that you're only mine?" he softly whispers against your lips, barely audible as he gently squeezes your throat.

"Yes, Mando. Let them see what they will never have. Show them who I fucking belong to." you cup his face in your hands and bite his bottom lip fiercely.

He goes crazy at that, and pushes you against the wall even further with his body, his beskar armour against your skin, his erection on your lower belly. You moan again in his mouth and grip tight to his biceps as his kisses make you tremble out of lust.

“I want you. Want you so bad.” you whisper on his lips, as he keeps kissing your mouth lovingly.

“Not so fast” he smirks as he turns you around, pinning you once again against the wall, beskar pressed against your back.

You let out an aroused sigh and keep your eyes shut as you feel his hot breath on your neck and his hands gently caressing your body, worshipping your feminine curves. He covers your neck in sweet kisses as his moustache softly tickles you - the feeling gives you a thrill and you arch your back in response, wanting to feel even more of him, humping his erection with your ass and letting out a gasp. He bites your neck to muffle his moan as his hands strongly squeeze your breasts. With a thrust of his hips, he pushes your body even further against the wall and goes on kissing you, following the curve of your shoulder, playing with the straps of your dress between his fingers, making you quiver at the contact of his lips with your skin. 

His hands trail down to your hips and under your dress to take off your drenched panties. You kick out of them and immediately feel his gloved hand cupping your mound, his finger teasing your slit, making you moan in anticipation. He hums in your ear and softly bites your lobe when he feels how wet you are.

"Please-" you whisper in a breathy moan.

You feel him kneeling behind you and you arch your back, spreading your legs and sticking your ass out so that he'll want to bury his face in your folds. His hands start to caress your thighs as he admires the view of your glistening pussy from under your skirt. He gets close, so close to your core, you can feel his breath between your legs.

"Could eat you all night like this." he whispers against your clit, just before giving it a quick lick that makes your whole body shake in anticipation.

"Too bad it won't be tonight." he chuckles sadistically as you hear him putting his helmet back on.

“M-Mando! You can’t-” you try to argue with him, but he’s quick to turn you around and to lean an arm on the wall behind you, towering over you, lifting your chin with his free hand. You’re face to face with his visor now, and you quit complaining, speechless and aroused as he stands so menacingly in front of you and grabs your throat.

“Shut up. And strip me.” he orders with his firm voice.

His pose, his voice, his order make your knees weak and you’re suddenly so grateful for the wall behind you.

He stays completely still as you go on removing layer after layer of beskar and clothing from his body, taking all the time in the world, letting him simmer as you look at him with lustful eyes, slowly discovering the hot, tanned, muscular frame always concealed underneath the Mandalorian armour. You are so reverentially careful, wanting to gently touch his hot skin at every chance given, feeling his gaze from under the visor following the movement of your fingers on his muscles and the adoring way you look at him.

“Go lay down on the bed. Let me take care of you now.” you let a finger slide on his abdomen and stop right at his dark curls, ignoring his painfully hard cock twitching at how sweet and inviting your voice sounds. He obeys you, going to lay down on his stomach on the massage bed.

You grab an oil bottle from the stand right next to the bed, let a few drops coat your hands and start massaging his shoulders. The muscles are tense, you feel the knots under your loving touch. You hope to alleviate the pressure of the guns and armour he’s always carrying, carefully kneading one of your favourite parts of his gorgeous body. He sinks into the massage bed, completely abandoning himself to you, letting you take care of him and his needs, letting his guard down, trusting you. You slide your thumbs up, towards his neck, concentrating on his nape, hoping it will be a relief from always wearing the heavy beskar helmet.

You keep massaging him, sliding down slowly and softly towards his back. His tan skin is smooth and hot to the touch, and you can see and feel all the small dips formed by his muscles, which you diligently follow with your fingers, wanting to memorise every single one of them, and the scars that he has gained over the years, and you can’t help but think of how many enemies he has defeated in battle, how strong he is, how nothing bad could happen to you while you’re with him. His muscles are so tense and you take your time kneading them, releasing his knots, hoping that it will help him relax and feel less pain. He hums under your touch, enjoying it. 

“Feels so good.” he whispers, barely audible. He loves to feel your hands touching his body. “Will you also massage the front of my body, sweet girl?” he asks.

“Of course." you purr on his shoulder blade, planting a kiss there, making him shudder as you trace your fingers down his spine. "Turn around for me."

When he does, you let out in an exhale all the air in your lungs at the sight of that gorgeous body of his - thick and strong, the outline of his muscles peeks from under his golden, tan skin and is accentuated by the warm, dim light of the candles scattered around the room. There is a slight taper at his waist, making his shoulders the broadest part of his body, and when your eyes trail down, you notice his cock is rock hard for you, its tip deliciously glistening in precum. 

Just as you’re speechless looking at him - every time it’s like the first time, you won’t ever get used to how stunning he is - he folds his arms behind his head. He knows you love it when he does it - this position makes his muscles look even bigger.

"Why don't you start from my arms and shoulders? They've been killing me lately." he teases.

You know he's doing this on purpose, smirking under that damn helmet for sure, feeling how aroused you are at the sight of that devastatingly gorgeous masculine body.

You feel your clit pulsing right under your dress at his teasing, so you close your legs to try and alleviate the pressure so that you can focus on your task.

You start massaging his arms, accurately touching his biceps, oiling them, following the curve of his triceps until his elbow, running your fingers on him as he flexes his muscles on purpose, to make you feel how hard and strong they are, humming under your touch for the sole purpose of teasing you, to drive you crazy, to make you desperate begging for his cock. The look on your face must be of pure lust as you admire the wonder of him, knowing all of that it's only for your eyes to see and for you to touch. You squeeze his arms hard, groping his muscles with longing hands and close your eyes as you feel your pussy clenching in desperate need of attention.

"Is there something you want to ask me, pretty girl?" he taunts you as he sees how hard you're trying to contain yourself.

One of his hands travels to your knee, then up to your thigh, your legs spread for him until he reaches your slit, dripping wet.

“Take your dress off and sit on me.” he orders as he draws circles on your clit with his finger, making you moan loudly as your pussy produces the filthiest wet sounds. He takes his hand away, cleaning it by spreading your slick all over his erection, lazily and mercilessly stroking his cock in front of your eyes.

"Tell me to stop, or I won't." his voice is firm and authoritative, and you feel a blaze traversing your body, making your cunt ache with need.

The sight of him completely naked, giving himself pleasure with your very same arousal in front of you makes your blood boil.

"S-stop. Stop touching yourself." you say shyly as you slowly take off your dress, freeing your breasts and stepping out of it. 

"You don't sound very convincing. Seems like you enjoy watching me do it. Try again." he goads you, gripping his cock even tighter watching your exposed breasts.

Something inside of you snaps. If he wants you to give him orders, you will give him orders.

"I said" you go sit on his lap, straddling him. 

"Stop." you take the hand stroking his cock into yours. 

"Touching." you bring his hand up over his head, your body now is skin to skin against his. 

"Yourself." you look at him straight into the visor of his helmet, a flame burning in your eyes.

He growls under the helmet as your sudden power surge makes his cock throb under you.

"Fuck. You're so hot when you give me orders. Greedy whore. You want to be the only one touching this cock, don't you?"

You purposefully grind your pussy against his erection as you put his hand behind his head, same position as earlier.

"Fuck yes. I own it. It's mine. You're mine." you keep sliding your drenched cunt on its length, making him grunt. You cup his helmet in your hands, close your eyes and lift it enough just to kiss him on the lips. His lips part for you and you slide your tongue in. His mouth is welcoming, warm and passionate and it’s devastating how much he desires you, wanting more and more of you. You rub your body on his, making obscene sounds in his mouth. He swallows them greedily, humming under you. He sticks his tongue in your mouth, so heavily aroused by how authoritative you are in this moment, both with your words and your gestures, wanting to make you understand how much he's enjoying it. No one had ever lifted his helmet before and that little thrill of fear he felt when you did it, makes him even more feral for you.

You try to keep your cool, feeling his cock deliciously rubbing against your clit, so close to where you desperately want him. The mere rubbing gets you close to your orgasm so embarrassingly early, but you don't want to come just yet, not now that you're just getting started. You want it to be a pleasurable torment and tease him until he’s begging you.

You take a deep breath and bite his bottom lip, humming and lowering his helmet back on. After that, you reach for the oil and let a few drops fall on his chest and start massaging him, his firm pectoral muscles twitching under your touch, his erection softly brushing against your swollen core.

You can’t help thinking about how good it will feel to ride him just like that, but you want to torture him a bit more.

Later.

Later you'll ride him.

You slide your hands on his sides and see his abs contracting, showing you how deliciously in shape his body is. Your fingers can't stop touching his body and groping his muscles, exploring the soft dimples of his abdomen and feeling them twitching under the skin.

Your fingers slowly start to tease his lower belly, tracing that tempting v shape that goes on dying in his dark curls, making it glisten under the dim light in the most tempting way. You follow it with your oiled fingers and feel him tremble, ticklish and aroused at the same time, his breathing becoming heavier and heavier by the second, knowing your hands are so close to his erection.

"Why d-don't you go lower?" he asks. It sounds more like a beg than an order.

"Not so fast" you mock him as you trail your fingers desperately close to his erection without ever brushing it, making him grunt and throb under you. He wants you so much, he gives a thrust of his hips and you both moan at the same time.

"Patience, Mando." you tease him as you slide your body down between his legs to massage his muscular thighs. He goes crazy when he sees your mouth and your breasts so close, so damn close to his throbbing cock. You give him a long, excruciatingly thorough massage to his thighs, planting kisses on them until you get so close to his dick, but you won't touch it just yet. You feel his frustration grow stronger, and feel pleased with yourself at how much you're making him falter.

When you decide you made him suffer enough, you grab the oil again and let a few drops fall on his erection, his body marvellously answering by desperately twitching at that light stimulation. You spread the oil with your finger on his length, barely brushing it, just to tease him a little bit more and give him a taste of his own medicine for once.

"How does that feel?" you ask in a low voice, your lustful gaze steady on the dark visor.

He chokes a grunt when you wrap your thumb and index finger around his cock, stroking it painfully slow.

"D-damn, mesh'la. F-feels so, so fucking g-good"

All of his muscles go rigid as you wrap both of your hands around his throbbing dick, one on top of the other, and when you start slowly stroking it, he lets out a desperate groan.

"Do not move, or I'll stop. You look so fucking good like this. Oiled, naked and throbbing for me."

"M-mesh'la" his voice is begging you to pick up the pace, but he's enjoying this torture at the same time.

You have some fun with it, feeling so powerful and sadistic hearing the whining sounds he's making as you're touching him like this, seeing his chest moving, his abs contracting, imagining how desperate he'd look under the helmet.

"Do you want more?"

"Ngh- P-please" he pleads in a breathy voice.

That's when you start fucking him with your breasts. His cock is so oiled, it slips perfectly between your boobs as you look at him while licking your lips. They're so soft and tempting as you squeeze them in your hands, massaging his needy, throbbing dick. He groans desperately, muttering filth in his native language at the sight and the feeling. You make sure to give him the best view you could possibly offer - his cock slipping between your breasts as you never interrupt eye contact. You're starting to enjoy the control you have over him, feeling so powerful and seeing him so yielding and willing to let you have your fun at his expense.

You tease him for a bit like this, and then you go back straddling him. Your cunt is throbbing and needy and dripping wet as one of your hands is back slowly stroking his cock right in front of it.

He puts his hands on your hips, and one of his thumbs starts rubbing your clit, sending you to heaven. You keep touching each other, never breaking eye contact.

"Was I a - oh, fuck - Was I a good girl, Mando?"

"Y-yes. Yes, you're such a good girl." 

"Do I deserve your cock?"

"You do, fuck. You do."

"I want to ride you. Please. Let me ride your cock. I can't take it anymore. I need it." you whimper as you rock your hips and position his oiled cock in front of your entrance, making him feel how wet for him you are.

He hums in pleasure when you do so.

"Fuck. Do it. Ride me like it's my last night alive." he orders you in a gasp.

"Oh, I fucking will." You take in his cock and it slides perfectly inside of you, slow, smooth and you both let out a long, loud groan of pleasure that empties your lungs.

Being so full of him makes you speechless. His grip on your hips tightens as you start to move, riding him. You roll your head back as your hands rest on his chest and slowly trail towards his sides. You rarely ever see him from this perspective, you being in control of the rhythm of the thrusts and looking at his naked body under yours. You know his dominance is just dormant, he's letting you have a little bit of fun before it crawls out again, making you remember who is actually in charge - him. He loves to see you being in control right now, seeing how you handle him, the many ways you find to tease him, driving him insane. The thought of dominating such a menacing, dangerous man makes you afire with lust. Maker, you’re enjoying it so much that you dig your nails into his hips, scratching him, making him hiss, blending pleasure and pain in such a perfect way. His hips rock against yours, pushing his cock even deeper inside of you, making you gasp, leaving you breathless.

He grabs the oil bottle and pours some of it on your breasts, looking at the way the viscous fluid drips from your nipples to your belly. He then starts to massage them, groping and squeezing them in his hands as he starts to violently thrust into you, heavily aroused at the sight of your oiled, glistening body.

He lets out groans of pleasure and you can see his core tightening, the veins above his cock getting more pronounced. Seeing the shape of his abs sends a hot spark to your core and you put your hands on his, so as to squeeze your boobs even harder, and keep riding him in fluid motions rolling your hips.

"Oh, fuck, you've never been hotter than this. Riding my dick like a princess warrior, taming me like I'm a wild animal, all while looking so hot. I want to stick it so deep inside of you. I want to come inside of you so hard. Fucking hell, tell me you want it. Tell me you want all my cum in that beautiful cunt." he says in an adoring voice.

Your body is shaking as it's getting dangerously close to your orgasm. "I want it. Please come inside me. Please go on. Don't stop, Mando. Oh, please make me come. I'm so, so close." you beg him.

"Damn, I can feel it getting tighter. So hot and wet for me, pretty girl. You're mine. My little whore. Gonna make you come so hard and then I'll fill you. Come. Come riding my cock, mesh’la."

You keep riding him, a few more thrusts and you come just like that, pleasure slowly building up until you reach your climax, your head rolling back and your mouth letting out the most filthy, nasty, loud groans of pleasure, as your hands grip his even tighter on your breasts, sustaining you. Everything turns black and only the overwhelming feeling of your orgasm exists in your world. You hear his voice, muffled and far away as you are absorbed by your own devastating pleasure, as it goes on muttering filth about how beautiful you look when you come riding his cock and how he has to restrain himself from bursting inside of you in this very moment because he wants to keep fucking your hot pussy.

After you ride out your orgasm and come back to your senses, you feel so worn out. You're panting, but you don’t stop riding him. He is so pleased to see that, and you also know he’s close too.

"I saw a hot spring before coming here. Did you see that?" you drawl, still panting.

"I-I did."

"I want you to fuck me there, in front of everyone. I know you want it too."

He grunts as he picks up the pace, aroused beyond limit at the mere thought.

"Let them see how good you fuck me, in a way they could never."

"F-fuck - Pretty girl - s-stop saying those things or I'm not gonna last-"

"Show them. Show them who I fucking belong to." you scratch his chest with your nails in your animalistic frenzy.

He snarls, wrapping his strong arms around your body, lowering your body on his and his pace picks up even more, making you roll your eyes and scream, your oiled bodies rubbing against each other, creating the most obscene sounds.

"Oh, you want to be fucked like this? In front of everyone? Remind them how they could never make you scream like I do? How they could never make you feel this good? How if they ever dare to touch you I'm gonna kill them with my bare hands?"

"Fuck, yes! Yes! Yes!" you scream in his chest, holding tight to his biceps, completely subjugated by the way he's handling you.

"What a fucking whore you are. I'll fuck you in front of everyone and remind them you're fucking mine." he grabs your butt, digging his fingers hard into the soft flesh and starts railing you violently, leaving you breathless. You just helplessly grab his oiled biceps harder, screaming loudly in his chest, your eyes completely rolled back. He's pulling another orgasm from you, and somehow it's even harder and more intense than the first one. Your pussy gets even tighter and starts uncontrollably spasming and you feel every single ridge and vein of his dick as he thrusts into you with a devastating force.

He's overwhelmed by the even tighter feeling, and he screams when he finally comes inside of you, cursing at how tight you are, how good it feels to have his dick in your grasp, how he can't ever get enough of you...

As you both ride out your orgasms, you just lay there, panting into his chest as he's still inside of you and caresses your back, completely exhausted, until both of your breathing goes back to normal, whispering tender words to each other as you enjoy the contact of your naked bodies.

The hot springs are the second main attraction of the healing baths, and for a good reason.

The water is naturally hot due to the volcanic nature of Nevarro and the luxurious room is dimly lit by candles, making the atmosphere suggestive and intimate. The walls are decorated with mirrors all over the surface to guarantee the best visual on everything that happens there. Some of the people present there are indulging in sexual behaviours, while others are just watching.

You two are too focused on each other to even think of paying attention to others. The sight of the Mandalorian’s gorgeous body only covered by a towel on his hips drives you wild and makes you ravenous with lust, and you know by the way he's tilting the helmet that he feels the same way. You undress each other slowly, letting your towels drop to the floor. You can see his cock is slowly getting hard once again at the sight of your oiled body, now bare in front of everyone.

He takes you by the hand as you climb the stairs down to get into the water and sit.

You go behind him and start massaging his back, cleaning his skin from the oil you used before, brushing him with your breasts as you go on massaging his shoulders, making him feel worshipped by your touch and adoring eyes. You cover his neck in kisses as you caress his strong arms.

Mando's visor does not abandon the mirror that reflects the both of you for one second, wanting to look at the way you take care of him so lovingly.

You move in front of him and start washing his chest, when he grabs your hand and puts it on his rock hard erection. You grin satisfied when you feel he's hard for you again and he starts touching one of your breasts, still oiled, making your nipple hard by circling it with his thumb.

He turns you around and starts trailing his hands all over your body, making you look at the image reflected in the mirror.

“Do you see how beautiful you are?” he whispers as he gropes your breasts, squeezing them in his strong hands. You lean into his touch, resting your head on his shoulder, looking at your barely visible figure lit by the candles of the thermal spring.

"All these men are looking at you, you know that?" he whispers in your ear. "How does that make you feel?"

The truth is you don’t feel uneasy, in fact it's quite the opposite, you feel beautiful and protected, but most of all, you feel powerful. Powerful in a unique, feminine way. You’re a goddess worshipped and loved by the most frightening warrior of the parsec. Nothing bad can happen to you while his hands softly caress your curves and he whispers the sweetest, dirtiest words into your ear. You really do feel beautiful, the most beautiful woman in the galaxy.

His hands start descending towards your abdomen and then lower, caressing your folds, indulging on your outer lips, slowly teasing you and exploring your beautiful cunt as his visor is locked on you.

"Who do you belong to?" he whispers as one of his hands touches your clit and the other one circles one of your nipples.

"You." there's no hesitation in your voice.

"Good girl." he stands up, bringing you with him, then takes his cock in his hand and slowly slides it inside of you. Air leaves your lungs completely as you let out a moan that makes quite a few heads turn.

"Yes. Let them know. Let them look at you." he encourages you to abandon yourself completely.

He lifts your leg with his arm, spreading your cunt open to show everyone the way his thick cock slips inside of you with every thrust.

"You're by far the best whore out here. Stars, can't ever imagine fucking a more perfect cunt. Let everyone hear how good I'm fucking you. Let them know you're only mine. They can hear and look at you as much as they want, but only I can touch your body and fuck your wet cunt. You belong to me. If anybody ever touches you, I'm going to fucking kill them." he does not only want to assert his dominance over you, he also wants you to enjoy it, to make you feel protected as he fucks you while you just have to take his cock and not worry about anything else.

"No one could ever make me feel this good, Mando." you let out in a shaky, breathy voice.

"Yes, cyar'ika, like this." he wraps his hand around your neck.

At first his thrusts are painfully, deliciously slow and you can't help resting your head on his shoulder, moaning close to his ear. He slowly picks up the pace until he's pounding you hard, making a lot of sloshing sounds in the water, making you scream, making everyone look at you two.

"Fucking look at her. Look at that perfect cunt. Hear her scream. Hear how fucking good I'm fucking her. She's fucking mine. Mine. Only mine." he snarls at all the men there who have been looking at you the whole time, thinking they might own you.

"Mando - oh, f-fuck - s-stop saying those things-" you whisper, pretending to be shy, but loving being treated like his whore, your body completely exposed to all the other people in there, feeling their envy eyes on you both.

"I will say whatever the fuck I want about you. Because I fucking own you. Did you hear that?! I fucking own her." he growls like a vicious animal while grabbing your throat even tighter.

And when you thought you couldn't get any more aroused, he starts to rub your clit. You lose it completely and let out desperate, loud groans.

"Want to come like this? In front of everyone? Let them know how much of a slut you are?"

"Yes!" you plead in a desperate, loud cry.

"Then come. Come for me. Scream my name and let everyone know who is making you come so hard."

You do. You scream the only name you know of him in a loud cry, as your cunt desperately clenches around his throbbing erection.

"Yes. Yes. Like this. Come on my cock. Stars, you're so beautiful, ner cyar'ika."

Your screams echo in the thermal bath as you feel the eyes of every single person on you two. He never stops looking at your face as you come, entranced by how stunning you look when he takes you to the highest pleasure, in a state of pure ecstasy. He feels your muscles clenching around his cock, your swollen clit under his fingers and your yielding body leaning on his. The sounds you make are the most beautiful and heady he's ever heard, he's addicted to how sweet your voice sounds when you moan his name in the ecstatic trance of your orgasm.

After you come back from your high, you lean on one side of the bath, panting, bent in half as he keeps thrusting into you from behind.

"I want to come all over your pretty face and I want you to eat it all. Show them who you belong to." he keeps thrusting into you as he grips your hair.

“Do it. Come on my face.” you pant, completely exhausted.

He gets feral when he hears that, and in an instant he takes his cock out and turns you around, stroking it with his hand.

“Give this filthy whore what she deserves.” you smirk at him.

He grunts as he hears you saying that, stroking his cock even harder.

"Open your mouth for me, mesh'la." You do, and you also stick out your tongue. You look at him stroking his soaking wet dick in front of your face. You close your eyes as you feel his hot release painting your face, hearing him groan loudly.

When he's done coming, you take his cock into your mouth and suck it clean, earning a grunt from him.

You pass your finger on your face and bring all his cum to your mouth, savouring it for his pleasure.

"What an obedient little whore you are." 

"Your whore, Mando." you smile at him as you swallow his seed.