#cobb vanth x din djarin

[muensterfucker]

squinty cobb studies + lovestruck din

[sofscribbles]

A Place Out West (click for better quality image)

I've been so excited to share this illustration I did for @gusthemoose for their lovely fic A Place Out West for the the DinCobb Fall Fest 2023!

Summary: A werewolf hunter coming to town is not a good sign for Sheriff Cobb Vanth, but as the seasons change they'll learn how to live together in this small town.

Big thanks to gusthemoose for writing such a lovely and atmospheric tale, and for trusting me with their story. Please go read it!

[1n-bl0om]

DinCobb

Yes to Heaven - Lana Del Rey

[manofbeskar]

barbie and ken

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

In a Perfect World, You Love Me [i]

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: injury, mentions of blood, cursing, derogatory name calling, forced drug exposure, hallucinations, light smut, angst, and some angst, and a little more angst just to top it off (actually this isn’t nearly as heartbreaking as some stuff i’ve written before lol), self doubt, anxiety, also cobb vanth is here. it’s not a warning but i love him so i wanted to mention it.🤷🏻‍♀️

word count: 6,961

Summary: 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?

a/n: bitches be planning out short drabbles about heart break only for it to turn into a long wordy mess. it’s me. i’m bitches. anybody know the show supernatural? it’s a show about like dramatic ass sad brothers who travel the country fighting monsters? (i know you know i’m being sarcastic). i watched that one episode where the djinn puts dean in like a dream world and it inspired this. i wanted to name it ‘din djarin’s djinn dream’ but that seemed a bit too on the nose.

.

“sometimes it is not love that breaks your heart. it is disappointment.”

-r.m. drake

.

Grogu was safe. That was the first thought that came to mind. You were so incredibly grateful that Mando had decided to leave the small child with Peli at the shop. It had been a last minute call. Weirdly, you were also thankful that you hadn’t stayed behind. You nearly did. Traveling through the Dune Sea was an absolutely miserable experience between the heat and the sand. It would have been so much more comfortable to just sit in the shop, cuddle with Grogu, and watch Peli con her customers.

However, when Mando mentioned he was going to Mos Pelgo you jumped at the chance to visit Cobb Vanth. It had been ages since you last saw the man, and you were eager to catch up with the marshal. So you climbed onto Mando’s rented land speeder, wrapped your arms around his beskar armor, and the two of you set off. What was supposed to be a simple day trip to greet an old friend and ask for a favor turned into a Maker forsaken nightmare.

Your face was throbbing in pain, you tasted blood in your mouth, and you were fairly certain your right wrist was broken based on the swelling and discoloration. Despite all of that, despite the pain and fear, the thought occurred to you once more. You were so thankful you were here. 

“How pathetic.” The smuggler cackled amongst his small crew. “You’re going to protect the Mandalorian from us? You dumb bitch.”

Five dangerous men stood at the rim of the pit you were trapped in while Mando laid motionless behind you. There was a bit of blood pooling from out of the bottom of his helmet, onto the sand, and the only comfort you had that Mando was still with you was the slow rise and fall of his chest. 

The smugglers had set a trap that Mando and you had fallen right into. As your land speeder tripped a wire it caused a blast that had both of you falling into a pit. The damned thing was deep enough to leave both of you injured and you prayed that your injuries were worse than Mando’s and he was just out cold for a moment. Your attackers began to argue amongst one another and you stayed on high alert. Mando and you were fish in a barrel. They could rain blaster fire down on you and there would be nothing you could do about it. The only reason you hadn’t grabbed Mando’s blaster to fire up is because you didn’t want to trigger a massacre.

“Shoot her dead then climb down and collect the beskar. Easy.” One smuggler scoffed and pulled out his blaster. You flinched but the loudest of the men, the leader, shoved the blaster’s aim away from you. “What?”

“The moment we try and get off world we’re gonna get stopped by those damned pirates again.” He snapped. “We keep the girl alive and hand her over as the tax we pay to pass free. We keep all the Mandalorian’s armor to ourselves.”

“Who’d want a bitch over beskar?”

“Oh, trust me.” The lead smuggler chuckled and the sound made you cringe. You set your hand in Mando’s gloved one and wished more than anything his grip would tighten around you rather than stay limp. “I know the man running the show right now, and he’s got a weakness for pretty little things.”

You tried to hide the tremble that shook your frame and you whispered for Mando to wake up⏤ for him to hear you. The lead smuggler opened his bag and you grasped Mando’s blaster. As threateningly as you could manage, you barked out. “You come down here and I’ll kill you. You hear me?!”

“Aw, she’s got some bite. Maybe we should keep her instead.”

“Shut the hell up.” The lead snapped and continued to root through his bag. “Where the kriff is that damned spice bomb?” Your eyebrows furrowed. Spice was bad news. It wasn’t something you ever wanted to touch. You had seen what the addiction could do to people, and you had a very bad feeling about what a spice bomb would be. “There it is.”

Panic hit you, and you lifted the blaster to start firing but the leader tossed a glowing red ball down into the pit and the smugglers dove away from the hole. The ball exploded mid way down into a cloud of red dust that rained down on you and Mando. You tried to cover your mouth and nose with the bottom of your shirt, but it was to no avail. Your entire body grew heavy, collapsing on top of Mando’s chest, and a sharp, tingling sensation washed over you before your eyes fell shut.

Din woke with a start⏤ panting and desperate for air. His mind was filled with a heavy fog that he tried to swim through to gather his bearings. There had been a wire. Din noticed it much too late and he remembered the ground swallowing you and him whole. You. Your scream was the last thing he could recall. 

His hands drifted to his face and Din hated that it was only then that he noticed he wasn’t wearing a helmet. He blamed the fog. Din scrambled about the soft bed he realized he was tucked into as he searched the space around him for his armor. Din was in a bedroom he didn’t recognize wearing only a pair of sleep pants. Dank farrik. Din leapt out of bed but stumbled rather than landed with any amount of grace. Where was he? Where were you?? 

He forced himself to take a steadying breath and centered himself. 

The bedroom was small. Only a large bed, a clothing dresser, and two nightstands on either side of the bed. The walls were painted a soft blue, two doors leading out, and one wall had a window that spanned nearly the entire length of the room. Din blinked in confusion. Outside was a bustling city with towering pillar-like buildings and early morning light spilling down through holes in the upper shelf casting light on a city that was very much alive. Din knew where he was. He just didn’t know how he got here or how this was even possible.

“Sundari?” He breathed in shock. Din had only seen images of the cities of Mandalore. Sundari, the domed capital city, being the most infamous of all. This must have been a dream. Exactly how hard had he hit his head in the fall?

Din, in all his distraction, hadn’t even noticed the sound of running water until it stopped. He spun on his heel and stared at the door in the corner which must have led into a fresher. Din wasn’t alone. His hand snapped to his hip for his blaster but met air. Maker, he’d be happy when this concussion finally passed. He scanned the room for any kind of weapon he could use and as he grasped the nightstand drawer he froze. Sitting on top of the small table was a holo image being projected up from a disk as decor.

It was a photo of you and Grogu. Din narrowed his eyes at it in confusion. The two of you were at a park of some kind, but he couldn’t recall where or when this had occurred. The door opened, making Din jump in surprise. Fine, concussion or not, he’d fight his way out by hand. However, as if he couldn’t possibly be caught more off guard, you stepped out of the bathroom wearing only a towel.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I wake you up?” You stepped toward him and Din stayed frozen in place. Your hands came up to run across his bare chest before settling on his waist where you continued to trace your fingertips up and down in a repetitive pattern. There was so much happening at once that Din didn’t even know what to think. It didn’t help that the moment your skin touched his, his mind seemed to short circuit. “I was trying to let you sleep in for at least a little.”

Ever since you had confessed to him weeks ago that you wanted more than just a friendship Din had been plagued with dreams of you. Visions of you moaning under him as he buried himself into your warmth, of you riding his cock while his hands explored your body, of him simply holding you in his arms and memorizing your features unimpeded by his helmet. But never had it ever felt this real. 

“Din?” You tilted your head. Hearing his name from your lips, he shuddered. How was this happening? You staring up at his bare face and whispering his name in concern. 

Din tried to open his mouth and speak, but his voice had left him. When you confessed to him, it had taken every fiber of his being to not react. As much as he cared about you, as badly as he wanted you, he knew it was a bad idea. Din knew he had to draw a line to keep you safe. He was dangerous and Din knew it was selfish of him to keep you and Grogu around despite that. He always figured the two of you would go your separate ways when the jedi were found and Grogu was delivered, but Din would never be able to say good-bye to you if he crossed that line. So he lied. Told you he didn’t feel the same and walked away leaving you teary eyed and broken hearted. 

You frowned. Your eyebrows furrowed and he had the overwhelming urge to smooth out your brow with his fingers. Trace every inch of your face with his hands. “You look sad, love.” You lifted your hands to cup his face. “Did you have that nightmare again?”

“Wh⏤What?” Din’s voice was quiet and ragged.

“We’re safe now. You don’t have to worry.” You caressed his cheek. “Me, you, and Grogu. We’re all safe. We have a home. Our days of running are over.”

Din shook his head. “No, no. We were in the Dune Sea. I⏤I missed the trip wire and we fell. You were hurt. We⏤”

“Din, that was so long ago. Out of all the bantha shit we’ve dealt with I’m surprised that memory is the one plaguing you.” You said.

Din pulled out of your arms. “It wasn’t. It just happened. You’re lost⏤ You’re hurt. I have to⏤”

“I’m not lost. I’m not hurt. I’m safe, right here with you, in our home. Grogu is still sleeping down the hall. There’s no place safer for our son and I.” You set your hands on his chest once more. “Grogu with his buir, and I with my riduur.”

Din was so shocked by the Mando’a that left your lips that he didn’t even register the soft kiss you pressed in the middle of his chest. Right where his iron heart would be if he had his armor on. You stepped away from him, walking to the dresser off to the side, and Din watched you go until you let the towel fall from your body. He forced his gaze up to the ceiling to keep from staring. Something felt wrong. Was this a dream? Was he dead?

Din didn’t trust the world around him.

You startled awake. A cloud of panic and fear drowning you.

“Mando!?” The nickname left your lips before you even registered a thought. You scrambled to sit up, arms reaching out to try and find purchase, but it was too dark to see anything.  Even without your sight, something felt familiar about the material under your body and the comforting smell surrounding you, but the last memory of the smugglers dropping the spice bomb had too much adrenaline rushing through your body for you to think properly. 

The wall in front of you shot up with a metallic click and a light blinded you. Hands grabbed your calves and you screamed again trying to kick them off. “Mesh’la! You’re safe!” Mando’s modulated voice filled the air. “You’re on the Razor Crest. You’re in my bunk.”

Your eyes adjusted to the light and you recognized your setting. That’s why it was familiar. Mando’s scent surrounded you as you were nestled in the blankets and pillow he used to sleep. Standing at the bunk’s entrance was the Mandalorian himself. He looked unharmed, but he always looked unharmed when he was covered from head to toe in his beskar.

“Mando!” You cried in alarm and launched yourself at him. He didn’t complain when you wrapped your arms around him tightly. Mando simply held onto you and kept you from knocking him over. This should be awkward considering how he had bluntly said he felt nothing for you only weeks ago. But, you were so relieved that he was safe and alive that you didn’t care. His hands rubbed your back soothingly as he mumbled soft reassurances. “I thought you⏤ I thought we⏤”

“We’re safe, mesh’la.” Mando replied.

You leaned back and he kept his arms around you. “What happened? The last thing I remember…” It hurt to try and pull the memory out of your own head. Spice bomb. Red dust had rained over you and Mando. You passed out on top of him. “The⏤The bomb.”

“It knocked you out.” Mando said. “My helmet filtered it out, I think. I woke up with you on top of me and the smugglers were climbing down. We fought. I won. Then I carried you back to Peli’s.”

“All of that happened?”

“We’re in hyperspace now.”

“How,” You shook your head, “How long was I out?”

“Two days. The spice hit your systems hard. I was⏤” Mando cleared his throat, the sound scratchy through the modulator. “I was worried about you, mesh’la.”

It was only then you realized you still had your hands resting on his shoulders and he had his own wrapped around your waist as you sat on your knees⏤ the bunk making the two of you eye level. You swallowed nervously. “I, uh, it was you I was worried about. Your head. I thought I saw blood when you were out cold.”

“Small injury. Only took one round of bacta to clear up.”

“Good.”

“You, on the other hand,” Mando mumbled. He brushed his gloved fingers across your face. The touch lingered on your cheekbone. The same one that had hit the ground hard enough to make your face throb. Mando pulled his other hand away to wrap around your non-bruised and non-swollen wrist. How much bacta had he used to get all your injuries healed in two days? “Mesh’la, I am so sorry.”

You shook your head. “None of that was your fault.”

Mando kept quiet, as if he didn’t agree but didn’t know what else to say. The sound of a soft coo made you lean forward and peer around the edge of the bunk where Grogu was standing by the ladder leading up to the cockpit. He lifted his arms and waddled closer. Mando released you to pick the small child up. Grogu whined until Mando set him in your lap and you didn’t hesitate to cuddle the boy to your chest.

Thank the Maker, he hadn’t been with the two of you. You let out another sigh of relief. It seemed like you and Mando had gotten out of the pit by luck alone and you don’t know what you would’ve done if Grogu had been harmed during the whole thing.

“Here. Let’s get you some food.” Mando set a hand on your elbow to help you slide out of the bunk. What caught you off guard was when he let his hand travel from your arm to your lower back as he led you toward the ladder. You couldn’t help but let your eyes wander over his entire frame. Mando was a good man. It wasn’t the shiny, silver metal of a Mandalorian you were attracted to or the reputation of a dangerous and strong bounty hunter. You had fallen for the kind and protective man who hid under both of those roles. Mando’s head turned to stare back at you and a thrill went down your spine. He whispered your name.

You took a step away and cleared your throat. Mando let his arm fall away. Your obsession with him, your stupid idiotic crush on him, had you misreading signals left and right. The only reason you had confessed was because you convinced yourself that he was shooting you lingering looks and that every brush of his hand against you was purposeful and not a mistake made in passing. 

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. Mando had made his position clear, and you were done crossing the lines and boundaries he had set.

“Can you get up to the flight deck alright?” Mando asked and you nodded. “I’ll bring you something to eat.”

Mando tilted his head toward the ladder and he waited until you began to climb⏤ as if he was worried you’d fall off mid-way up. When you got upstairs, you settled into the co-pilot’s chair with Grogu in your lap and stared out at the blurring lines of hyperspace. A small smile settled on your features.

The world around you was right again.

Din felt more like himself once he had his armor on. It still felt like the world around him was spinning and nothing made sense, but his beskar was like a heavy, impenetrable comfort blanket. He sat in a kitchen, helmet on, as he stared out at Sundari through a window that sat near a dining table. It seemed the home around him was part of a tower inside the domed city, and Din still couldn’t wrap his brain around that. The sound of footsteps startled him and he turned in time to see you padding down the hall with Grogu in your arms. He pushed to stand⏤ seeing the small child putting him at ease.

“Why do you have your helmet on?” You asked after handing Grogu to him. The child bounced in his arms chanting a recognizable sound asking for food. “Are you leaving already? Don’t you want breakfast?”

Din stayed quiet. You moved around the kitchen with the ease of someone who did this regularly, and he watched you make a meal. It didn’t make sense, he didn’t understand, but he couldn’t deny the attraction he felt toward you being so domestic. Especially after you had just claimed that he was your partner, your husband, your riduur.

“Come here, cutie.” You cooed to Grogu and he let you take the boy from him. You set him in a little high chair and set a bowl of food in front of him. As per usual, Grogu didn’t hesitate to begin scarfing down what was in front of him. You lovingly pressed a kiss to his head then walked over to lean at the corner of the kitchen island next to him. “Din, please talk to me.” He clenched and unclenched his fists. “You’re starting to scare me.”

“I’m sorry, Mesh’la.” He sighed. 

You had shifted even closer to the bar stool he sat on. Din tensed when your hands settled on his thighs and you stepped between them. Slowly, you took his hand in yours and began to peel his gloves off. Din sucked in a breath, but couldn’t find a complaint to speak. You did the same thing with his other hand. Finally, your hands rested on his helmet, but you didn’t move. Not until Din gave a small nod. You pulled his helmet off carefully, respectfully resting it on the counter, and Din felt his features soften as he stared at you. Maker, you were beautiful.

“Din, listen to me, I love you.” You said. A pretty smile spread across your features and you took his face between your hands. “But if you don’t tell me what’s going on, I am going to kick your ass.” He chuckled and leaned into your touch. Was Din losing his mind? If this was insanity, it felt so good that Din really didn't think he minded. “Are you… Are you having one of your mornings?”

“One of my… mornings?” Din furrowed his brow.

“You know, when the nightmare doesn’t end.” You whispered.

Din shook his head. “This isn’t a nightmare. It’s a dream. A dream I don’t deserve.” He let his hands rest on top of yours with the plan to pull them away, but he was too weak to actually go through with it. Din sighed, “I lied to you.” A flash of confusion crossed your features. “I said I didn’t care about you in the same way you felt about me, but it was a lie. From the moment you stepped onto the Razor Crest I haven’t been able to get you out of my mind. Mesh’la, you are my world.”

“Din, are you…” You paused then a small laugh left you, “Maker, are you talking about when we were trying to get to Mos Pelgo, still? I confessed to you and then we got caught weeks later and…” You shook your head. “Don’t scare me like that. When you said you were sorry and you lied, I was worried something had happened. It’s just a bad morning. They always pass.”

“What are you talking about?” Din asked.

“Fine. I’ll jump start your memory.” You pushed up on your tiptoes and then sat on his thigh. Naturally, his hands went around your waist to keep you from falling and your hands wrapped around his neck. “You confessed to me. It happened months later. You’re an incredible bounty hunter, but you move slow as hell, Din.” He narrowed his eyes. “It was right after we decided to keep Grogu with us. Become a real family. For the record, it also took you way too long to propose to me too.”

Din could picture it all and it made everything so much more confusing. Had that happened? No. Not yet. Yet? Had he meant to think of that word? Yet? Din wasn’t planning any of that, but it sounded right. No part of him thought he deserved you or Grogu, but Maker this was what he always wanted. It was the life he craved, but was too broken to admit aloud. 

“But,” Din tried to find a tether to hold him in reality, “Sundari. We live in Sundari? Mandalore is dead.”

“No, it wasn’t. The poison the Empire caused faded away. We rebuilt.” The sound of a door chime made you glance over your shoulder. “Kriff. She’s here early.” You slid off his lap. “Grogu, we’re gonna be late! Let’s get you cleaned up so Soran can walk you to school.”

Din watched you scoop Grogu up, the boy gave him a wave he returned numbly, and the two of you disappeared down the hall. Were his fears the reason he was confused? What if what you said was right? He was just trapped in a nightmare and it was keeping him from living his life. Din had finally taken the leap, taken the chance, and found his perfect home. Now, his fear was crawling back and trying to ruin it again. Din always did this. He always fought himself. It was why he had denied your initial confession and wasted so much time in the first place.

Moments passed, he could hear you moving around the home with Grogu. Until finally the door chime rang again. Din stood up and faced the hall. Seconds later, you stepped back into view. You gave him a bright smile. 

“Alright, where were we?”

Fully accepting this for what it was, Din marched toward you. Your feet came to a stuttering stop and an excitement filled your eyes. You knew what he was doing before even he knew entirely. Din basically tackled you, pressing your body as tight as he could to his chest, and crushed his lips to yours. You responded immediately. Your hands wrapping around his neck as his tongue found it’s way past your lips. Din let his hands trail down your back, over your ass, under your thighs, and with ease began to pick you up. Just like with the kiss, you were on the same page as he was. You jumped just enough for him to lift you off the ground and your legs wrapped around his waist⏤ locking your ankles at his back. 

Din had planned to carry you down the hall, back to the bedroom, but he felt you grind against him and that plan went right out the window. He slammed you against the wall, lips leaving yours to trail down your neck. Maker, he wanted you. Keeping you pinned to the wall with his hips, relying on your grip around his waist and neck, Din pulled his hands away so he could grab the collar of your shirt. He ripped it down to the middle of your torso so his mouth could reach your breasts.

“I liked that shirt, you know.” You gasped, but the way you kept trying to find friction against his hard on told him you didn’t like it all that much.

“I’ll buy you a new one.” Din replied before leaving open mouth kisses down your chest. One hand went back to cup around your thigh and the other yanked your breast band down so his mouth could wrap around your nipple. The unholy moan that left your lips nearly made him come undone right then and there.

“You’re going to be late to work. They need you today.”

“Mesh’la, I don’t kriffing care.” Din said after pulling his lips away from your breast. His mouth found its way back to yours and after leaving a messy kiss there he pulled away only far enough to speak. “As far as I’m concerned the only place I’m needed is right between your thighs.” 

Din licked into your mouth, and he was startled when your hands untangled from around his neck. Then, with great proficiency, you began to unlatch his armor. His vambrace and left pauldron fell to the ground with a heavy thunk. “How did you do that so fast? How’d you know where the latches were?”

“I’m your wife, dummy.” You unlatched his right one, it joined the other on the floor, then you ripped the cloak out from under the top of his chest piece and pulled down on the collar of his shirt so you could leave too soft, teasing kisses against the hollow of his throat. “Now, either keep carrying me down the hall to our bed or drop me on the floor⏤ I don’t care, I just need you to fuck me.”

Din was not going to make it to the bedroom.

You rose from your seat with Grogu nestled in your arms sleeping. It hadn’t taken long for the boy to fall asleep between the warmth of your arms and the silence of hyperspace. As you drifted toward the door, Mando spoke up.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna put him in his hammock is all.” You whispered.

Mando glanced over his shoulder at you then nodded. “Good. Come back up when you’re done.”

Your eyebrows raised in surprise but you gave him a quiet confirmation before leaving the cockpit. You made your way down the ladder slowly and carefully so you didn’t wake or drop the little green gremlin snoring against your chest. You chuckled and rubbed his back while crossing the cargo hold. When you set him in the hammock, he stirred briefly and you took the time to lightly rock the hammock while humming him a lullaby. Only when you were convinced he had fallen back into a restful sleep did you find your way back to the cockpit.

“He’s down for the count.” You joked and dropped back into your chair.

Mando flipped a few switches on the panel before spinning the pilot’s seat so he was facing you. Your eyes widened and you shifted awkwardly in place. The weight of his heavy stare on you was intense. It burned into you and for a brief second you were sure he could see straight into your soul.

“What’s going on?” You asked. “You okay?”

“I could’ve lost you.” Mando whispered. “I don’t know what I would have done.”

“It’s over, Mando. We don’t have to think about it anymore.”

“It’s not over, mesh’la. There will always be another fight, another opportunity for someone to take you from me.” He argued. 

Mando wasn’t wrong. Your lives were a constant battle to maintain the upper hand over all the people trying to take Grogu and harm both of you. It was the exact reason why you had found the courage to confess to him in the first place. You stupidly convinced yourself that you didn’t want to lose anymore time⏤ waste another second. The silence in the cockpit was agonizing. You wanted so badly to break it, but you had no idea what to say to do so.

Luckily, Mando did not have that same problem.

“Come here, mesh’la.” He motioned you toward him with the curling motion of his fingers. You swallowed the lump that had suddenly formed in the middle of your throat like a rock. “Please.” The word was spoken softly, but there was a firm undertone that made it feel less like a request and more like a command. You stood up and took the single shaky step that was required to put you in his reach. Mando’s hands found your hips and he startled you by pulling you into his lap. With a yelp of surprise, you were forced to rest your knees on the outside of his thighs. The moment you were situated Mando spread his own thighs further so each of your legs were pinned between him and the chair and you were even more open to him. “Oh, sweet girl…”

“Mando. What⏤ What are you doing?” You whispered. Your entire face felt hot⏤ kriff, every inch of you felt hot.

He shook his head, his hands roaming up and down your sides, “I never should have said no to you. What happened, it made me realize how much,” Mando raised a gloved hand to your face, “how much I care about you.”

“Wait, really?” You breathed. It was the stupidest kind of response to give and you hated that you just blurted it out. Mando chuckled in response, and you shook your head. “Mando, maybe you’re just… feeling this way because what happened was so fresh. We should give it a little time⏤”

“I spent two days waiting for you to open those pretty eyes for me, sweet girl.” Mando cut in. “I’m not losing another second with you.”

The hand fell from your face to rest on your shoulder and, with the other still on your hip, Mando pressed you down on top of him. He shifted his own hips so he could drag the hard bulge in his pants against your core. A sharp gasp of surprise left your lips. Mando kept you pressed against him and when he dragged his hip against yours again the sensation caused you to groan this time.

“Dank farrik.” Mando grunted as he bucked up against you⏤ this time you moved your own hips to add to the friction and he moaned. The sound of him losing control shot straight to your core and you let your hands rest on his chest so you could grind into him more. Maker, you wanted to hear that sound again.

Mando sat up straight and the only thing keep you from tumbling off his lap was the hand he wrapped around your waist. He reached past you, hands hitting switches and buttons, and suddenly the entire panel of flickering lights went dead. “Mando?” You questioned. He hit one more switch and you glanced over your shoulder to watch as the windows darkened until the lights of hyperspace couldn’t be seen. Nothing could be seen. A hiss of pressure release, then a hand took hold of your jaw to turn you back so you faced forward.

“Mesh’la.” Mando whispered. Before you had only heard his unmodulated voice from a distance, as he was eating out of sight or lying in his bunk with the door closed. But, now it was closer than you could ever imagine. He mumbled your name and you could feel the movement of his lips just barely brushing against yours⏤ his hot breath on your face. “Say you want me, mesh’la.”

You took in a deep breath and nodded. “I want you, Mando. I’ve always wanted you.”

Rather than pressing his lips to yours as you wanted, Mando lifted you with ease and pressed you against the control panel. Something sharp was jabbing you in the back, but you didn’t care. Mando’s leather gloves roughly yanked your pants down, underwear and all. You had lifted your hips just enough to help him, but when you lowered yourself back into a seated position you hissed at the cold metal against your bare skin. 

You lifted your hands to find his shoulders, you wanted to feel his face, but Mando’s hands grabbed you by the wrists and pinned them to the panel by your head. He leaned over you and slowly dragged his hard cock, hidden behind his flight suit, against your already dripping wet lips⏤ but it wasn’t the only lips you wanted touched.

“Kiss me, please.” You begged and tried to lift your head to find his, but he leaned back just enough to avoid you. “Mando, I want to feel you⏤ all of you⏤ please.”

“Not yet, mesh’la. Be patient.” His entire weight was pressing down on you. “Good girls are patient, and only good girls get rewarded. Is that what you want, mesh’la? To be my good girl?” You nodded, breathless from the agonizingly slow way he was grinding into you. “Words, mesh’la.”

“Yes.” You gasped. “Please, Mando, please⏤”

“How lucky am I?” Mando hummed. “To have such a pretty girl begging under me. I’ve wanted to make you fall apart since the moment you stepped onto my ship.” You tensed as an alarm began to faintly ring at the back of your mind. Something inside you was trying to warn you. Mando kept whispering loving words on top of you. “You’re mine, mesh’la. You’ve always been mine and you always will be.”

“No.” You tried to squirm out from under him, but Mando was much too large and much too heavy for you to even move an inch. “No, no, no.”

Taking the hint, Mando released your hands and jumped away from you. Breathless, you tried to sit up and gather your bearings. “What is it, mesh’la? What’s wrong?”

“This is wrong.” You shook your head.

“No, it’s right. This is what you want, this is what I want.”

“No, it’s not.” A sob left you. “You don’t want me. You said so yourself. You don’t want me. This isn’t right.” Your head was beginning to pound in pain and Mando’s voice sounded like it was suddenly far away. The cold metal under you was beginning to turn hot and the firm smoothness of the control panel was taking on a new texture⏤ something grainy that shifted under you. The darkness turned to a blinding light and you gasped as pain began to settle into you.

Your face was throbbing, you tasted blood in your mouth, and your right wrist was aching. Now you had a pounding headache as well.  You blinked your eyes, trying to clear the blurriness out of your vision, and you saw a man climbing down a ladder into the pit you laid in. The smugglers. The spice bomb. Your hand tightened around the blaster you had taken from Mando and you lifted your heavy arm to fire at the man. It hit him in the back and he fell from the ladder and landed motionless only a few feet away.

You blindly fired shots up to the ridge of the pit. Over and over⏤ not knowing what else to do. You fired so much that you never noticed the sound of someone else’s blaster mingling with yours. A familiar voice was calling out to you, but it wasn’t Mando. Your heavy arm sunk back into the sand, blaster falling loose, and your eyes began to droop in exhaustion.

You wished it was Mando calling for you.

You woke up slowly. Your entire body was sore and it took straight willpower to get your eyes to stay open. There was a thin cot underneath you and a flickering fire ahead of you. A groan fell from your lips as you tried to sit up.

“Whoa, whoa,” A familiar voice said, “Slow down there, little lady.”

“Vanth?” You tried to turn to find your friend, but a warm hand kept you from moving too much. Suddenly, Cobb Vanth was kneeling beside you with a charming grin. Your entire body sagged in relief. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you right now.”

Vanth rubbed his jawline and gave you a wink, “I am much better looking than those damned smugglers, huh? How’d you and Mando get caught up in all that mess?”

“Mando!” You sat up quickly, immediately wincing when a sharp pain shot through you.

“Maker, darling.” Vanth scolded. “Your tin man is doing just fine. He’ll feel just as shitty as you when he finally wakes up.”

You glanced around and just as Vanth said your companion was lying on a small rolled out cot of his own. The firelight dancing as it reflected off his beskar. “He’s really okay? I think he had a head injury.”

“He’s fine. I promise you.” You nodded and Vanth offered you a canteen of water. As he asked, you began to tell him the story of what happened. It didn’t take long until you reached the point of the story that made your cheeks warm. Vanth noticed your hesitance and bumped his shoulder into yours. “Say your piece.”

“They threw a spice bomb and… and some weird shit happened.”

“Yeah, a spice bomb will do that to you.”

“What is it?”

“Depends. What’d you see?”

You paused before shrugging. “I was on the Razor Crest. Traveling with Mando and Grogu. Like always. It was… it felt so real.”

“Probably glitterstim then.” Vanth made you drink more water. “I have no idea how you broke out of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“The drug should’ve put you under. Place you in a happy haze of the thing you want most and trap you there for as long as the drug runs its course. Too much and you can end up dying in that perfect little world.” Vanth explained. “Usually, you can’t get out unless someone hits you with an antidote. Something to cancel the effects of the glitterstim. Unless…”

“Unless?”

“Unless you shock yourself out of it.” Vanth shrugged. “It all happens quick. In the first few minutes you either fall into the spice’s trap or you snap through it. The fact that I saw you wake up and shoot that smuggler is quite the feat, darling. How’d you do it?”

You wrapped your arms around your legs and rested your chin on your knees. The drug in your system deemed your perfect world to be Mando confessing how badly he wanted you. How pathetic was that? You didn’t stay under because even in a drugged out haze your mind knew that it was fake. Mando didn’t want you. Not the way you wanted him. Tears filled your eyes. Vanth didn’t press for you to answer and instead set his arm around your shoulder as a comfort. You leaned into him and fell asleep.

Every single part of Din’s body hurt. It reminded him of when the mudhorn had tossed him around like a ragdoll. Every atom in his body though, despite the pain, screamed danger. Din forced himself to sit up, blaster drawn. He was in the desert, by a fire in the dead of night. Across from him, he saw Cobb Vanth sitting there casually. Din’s blaster was pointed at him, but Vanth just gave him a slight wave.

“Hey there, brother.” He greeted. “You can put the blaster away.”

“What⏤” Din began to ask, but then his eyes landed on you. Your head rested against Vanth’s thigh and he had one hand resting on your shoulder. Part of your face looked bruised and even from this distance he could see your busted lip.

“Smugglers got the jump on y’all. Hit you with a spice bomb.” Din holstered his blaster and cursed. Dank farrik. Whispers of his dream world lingered in his mind and Din had to shake his head to try and rid himself of the way your lips felt against his skin. “You’re lucky.”

“This is lucky?” Din asked dryly. Maker, his body ached. 

“Little lady here broke free of the spice dream.” Vanth said. Din’s eyes widened in surprise. He didn’t know what he wanted to know more⏤ what your perfect world had looked like or how you had broken out of it. Vanth’s hand was tracing shapes on your shoulder as you slept and Din frowned at the touch. Coming from an imaginary world where he was fucking you, his wife, to reality where you were sleeping against another man was jarring. “You got stuck in it. Tell me, Mando, what was your perfect world?”

You were. You were his perfect world.

But, Din couldn’t bring himself to admit that in his current reality. 

[witch-off]

After that, Cobb was never invited to another dinner again

———

Oh my god this is so old??? Do people still ship Dincobb? (I know I do) But I never posted this anywhere so here it go

[astrangebird]

May patreon sketch request #1: b o o b i e s. hold them gentol.

[rinixo]

sulfur and granite

Din Djarin/Reader | 2.7k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, Jealous Din Djarin, smut, piv sex, semi-intense consensual sex, aftercare.

On a short detour to Tattooine, you are introduced to the Marshal. Mando is definitely not jealous.

–

Non-linear oneshots featuring you, a university scholar from Naboo who is helping The Mandalorian seek out the Jedi.

a/n: I imagine Mando would not know how to comfortably express feelings of jealousy/possessiveness right away, but ultimately would be respectful towards his partner's desires.

read on ao3

You weren’t sure what planet you’d choose if you had to pick your favorite, but you were fairly certain that Tattooine wouldn’t even make your top ten. You had only been there a few times, and each time you had left with an uncomfortable amount of sand in an uncomfortable amount of places. The only redeeming quality in your eyes were the brilliant binary sunsets the arid rock offered, but even then there were hundreds of other places in the galaxy where you could see those.

When Mando charted course for Tattooine, you bit your tongue. He said he needed to talk to an ‘old friend’ in some tiny, middle-of-nowhere town, and seeing as you were along for the ride, you steeled yourself for another day of brushing sand out of all of your clothing.

Mando had not given you much information, which you didn’t particularly mind. This was mainly a detour on your journey through the galaxy – some kind of favor he needed to repay or something, you surmised. His ‘old friend’ was only described as ‘The Marshal’, and you wondered what kind of law enforcement a syndicated crime planet like Tattooine could even harbor.

Mando landed the Crest on the outskirts of the city one late afternoon. You, Grogu, and your armored patron walked the short distance into the town to where a man dressed in red was waiting for you.

“Good to see you,” the man called out, moving forward to grasp Mando’s arm in greeting. You hung back slightly, feeling a little out of your element when the man happened to glance past the bounty hunter and catch your gaze.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” The Marshal sauntered forward, an easy grin matching his easy gait. He was quite handsome, you decided. Nice peppery-gray hair, eyes lined with laughter. He reached out for your hand, which you gave with a quiet giggle as he brought it to his lips.

“Don’t tell me she’s one of your bounties, Mando.” The Marshal directed at the Mandalorian as he kissed the back of your hand flirtatiously. “Cause I might be tempted to play the hero and rescue her from your clutches-“

“She’s helping me on my journey,” Mando interrupted flatly. There was a wink of humor in the Marshal’s gaze as he released your hand, only to wrap one arm around your shoulder.

“Well, then, welcome,” he exclaimed. “Any friend of Mando’s is a friend of mine, er…?”

You shared your name, and the man began to walk you toward what you assumed was the local cantina. It was past midday, and it looked like the building was the gathering place for most of the locals as they ended the day. Several people greeted the Marshal as he pointed out different landmarks to you, indicating that he was just as popular among his people as you would have assumed based on his appearance and looks alone.

Mando trailed along just slightly behind the two of you, Grogu tucked in his sack at his side.

“Can I buy you a drink?” The Marshal asked, motioning to the bartender. Two glasses of blue liquor were poured, and the charming man held one out to you.

“Sure,” you smiled. It had been a while since you had let yourself indulge. Even on the rare occasions you and Mando stopped someplace with alcohol, it was mainly for information or to pick up supplies to take on the go. Not to mention the fact that Mando never took off his helmet.

The Marshal – who you later found out was named Cobb Vanth – clinked his glass against yours and the two of you took healthy swigs of the slightly sour drink. Wincing, you matched the handsome man’s grin as he leaned casually against the bar.

“So tell me,” he drawled, swirling his drink In his glass. “What’s a girl like you doing hanging around a Mandalorian bounty hunter?”

You vaguely registered Mando hovering off to the side. He did not ask for a drink, nor did you think he would accept if one was even offered. You glanced over at him, wondering if you should defer to him – he had wanted to come to Freetown to speak with the Marshal, who was currently more fixated on you. On the other hand…it had been a while since you had a chance to talk to someone who wasn’t a literal child.

Turning to focus your attention on Cobb, you explained your background and talked generally about what you were doing for Mando. You left out most of the details in the interest of protecting both his and Grogu’s safety but were secretly delighted that the man did not pry for answers. Instead, he asked questions about you – where you were from, your research, your favorite parts of the galaxy you had seen thus far. He had a charming way of speaking, and a quick wit, and you found yourself losing track of time as the conversation flowed steadily into the evening.

At some point, Cobb had procured a small table for the two of you, and you perched on the edge of your seat as he explained how he had come to meet the Mandalorian. He laughed at how your jaw dropped during the tale of how Mando had flown into the mouth of a krayt dragon to blow it up from the inside. You spared another glace towards the bounty hunter, who hadn’t moved since you had entered the cantina. His helmet was fixed on you, and though you couldn’t see his eyes something told you his gaze was fixed on you. The feeling sent a slight shiver up your spine.

Seeming to notice, Cobb reached out and placed a calloused hand over your own. “It has truly been a pleasure,” he smiled. “But I better go speak to Mando before he burns a hole through both our heads.” You returned his smile and stood – albeit a little wobbly from the several drinks you had consumed over the past hour or so.

The Marshal beckoned for someone to come over, and explained that they would show you to a room you could stay in for the night. As he did so, Mando walked over, his bulk just millimeters from your back. You opened your mouth to greet him, but he just handed you Grogu in his sack and asked that you take the now-sleeping baby with you.

“Of course,” you said, gently taking the child into your arms. “See you later?”

Mando did not answer you and instead took your seat across from Cobb. The Marshal wished you a good night, and you followed the young woman he had procured to show you to your room.

--

An hour later, you were freshly bathed and had changed into a clean set of clothes. The room was decently sized, if not a bit dusty from lack of use. It held one large bed along with several chairs and a small table and was attached to a small side room that had a smaller bed. You had tucked Grogu into the smaller bed in the side room, closing the door gently so that you could prepare for sleep without waking him up.

You laid against the pillows and were browsing your datapad when the sound of the door sliding open signaled the arrival of Mando. You watched him clunk into the room over the top of your datapad. He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, a tension in the atmosphere having followed him in. “Where’s the kid?” He asked, and you pointed to the side room. He walked over to the door and opened it slightly to peer inside. Satisfied, he gently closed it and continued to stand there in the middle of the room.

“Have a good chat?” You asked, breaking the frigid silence after it became clear he was not going to. Mando settled into a chair heavily, spreading his legs and resting his arms on those of the chair.

“Was gonna ask you the same thing,” he rasped in response, and you raised a brow in question.

“What do you mean?” You asked, tapping a nail against the side of your datapad. Mando raised one shoulder in a half-shrug.

“You two seemed to hit it off.”

“Who? Me and Cobb?” You set down your datapad and crossed your arms. “He was nice.”

You could hardly believe the scoff you heard from the man. “Sure. That’s one way to put it.”

“Are you jealous?”

“…No.”

“You are,” you expanded, uncrossing your arms and swinging your legs over to hang over the side of the bed. “You’re upset that he was flirting with me, aren’t you?”

Mando was silent, and you wondered if his jaw was clenched under that helmet. You looked at him expectantly, and he sighed.

“I’m not upset,” you tried to clarify. “I think that’s just how he is. It’s ok to be jealous, Mando.”

“I am not jealous,” he grit out, and you tried to hide a smirk. Standing, you swayed over to stand in front of him. You were wearing an old oversized tunic that came just above your knees, and not much else. You stepped in between his spread thighs, your bare legs bumping against his armor. Even sitting, his head was nearly level with your own. Were you pushing it, standing naked from the waist down in between the legs of a dangerous and definitely jealous man? Perhaps.

“Then why were you staring at us the whole time?” You teased. “Mad that your friend was talking to me and not you?”

“I was waiting for him to make a move,” Mando interrupted. “To touch you.”

“Yeah?” You queried, and in a burst of bravery, you sat lightly on one of his broad thighs. You felt him tense underneath you, even through the armor, and resettle his weight back In the chair to support you more firmly. “What was your plan if he had made a move?”

One of his gloved hands came to rest on your bare thigh, and he slowly pulled it towards him, forcing your legs to spread slightly. His hand rubbed soft circles into your flesh, and you shifted so that your back was supported against the side of the chair.

“Hauling you over my shoulder and back into my ship,” Mando husked, hand venturing further up your thigh, under the hem of the long tunic. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed lightly over your bare cunt. “And reminding you.”

One of his fingers ran up and down your slit, and you shifted again, trying to get him to put more pressure where you wanted it. “Remind me of what?” You asked breathlessly. Mando’s other hand crept up your back to grip your neck, forcing you to arch in his lap. He stood, hauling you up against him with ease. He half-dragged you over to the bed, sitting down so that he could pull you up against his back into his lap.

“This,” he said simply, spreading your thighs wider and grinding his hips up into your backside. You could feel him, hot and hard under his flight suit, and you let out a low moan at the sensation. One hand roamed over your shaking thighs, playing with the slick gathering between your legs, while the other came up to cross against your chest, holding you tightly against him.

“I was thinking,” Mando continued, sounding almost casual in his tone and timbre, “Of how to show you what you’d be missing. How to show other men that you spend your nights in my bed.”

You licked your lips, feeling air-light as he rasped through the modulator into your ear. His fingers between your legs alternated from pinching your swollen clit to probing your entrance.

“That’s what I was thinking,” he said lowly. “What were you thinking, wicked girl?”

“I’m thinking you should just fuck me already,” you gasped out, and Mando laughed. It echoed through your blank mind like smoke, and your eyes fluttered closed as two of his thick fingers slid tightly inside of you, thumb pressing against your clit. Your hips bucked at the sensation, only to be held tight in his iron grip.

“Can you be quiet?” Mando asked throatily, and you could feel the rumble of it from his chest. “The kid is sleeping…and who knows who else might be listening?”

“I thought you wanted them to know,” you whimpered, and his grip on you loosened for a millisecond before he stood and flipped you face-first onto the bed. The back of your tunic was pushed up as he pushed your shoulders down to the mattress, and dragged your hips up toward where he stood behind you.

“Keep quiet,” he gruffed out, and you heard the familiar sound of his belt coming undone and felt his bare hips warm against your ass. “You only cry for me, understand?”

“Y-ye-“ you barely had a chance to respond before he shoved his throbbing cock into you, punching the air out of your lungs in one solid thrust. Keening, you let your head fall against your arms as Mando gripped your hips firmly and began a steady, brutal pace.

He spread your thighs as wide as they would go so that you could take all of him in with every thrust. Something about his hands on your hips and the way he moved you felt necessary – deep, intense thrusts that would resist anything except acceptance from him. The bed creaked from his weight against your body, along with the rich sound of his hips slapping against yours.

The superiority of this angle made you focus on the place where he filled you like it was the center of your universe. You bit into the flesh of your arm in an attempt to silence the keening cries that wanted to escape from your throat. Mando groaned above you, and his pace quickened.

“This what you wanted?” he husked lowly. “To come on my cock? Come on, wicked girl, come on-“

You choked out a wordless plea as his weight came down across your thighs, and his cock rammed as far as it could go. You knew you would feel the ache of him inside of you for days.

“M-mando-“ you keened again, and you felt his grip on your hips clench harder.

“Gotta be quiet,” he rasped. “Want them to hear how you’re spread open for my cock?” You could feel your orgasm approaching like a ship preparing to exit hyperspace. You were sure nothing in your life would ever feel as good, as full, as right as the heavy weight of his cock inside of you.

The frantic clutch of your cunt wrung from Mando his own release. He all but collapsed onto you, wrapping you up so that you disappeared into his embrace. You came with a muffled scream, your leg going numb from the release of tension and the weight of the man fucking his semen into you.

Not allowing you reprieve, Mando groaned and collapsed onto his side, rolling you so that you were pressed up against him. His iron-hard cock was still inside of you, throbbing its release, and his hand came down between your legs to tweak at your clit. “Again,” he demanded, and you threw your head back and hit it against his helmet. He shoved the fingers of his other hand into your mouth to silence your cries as you came again, obediently, at the clumsy push of his fingers against your sore cunt.

Your body jerked against him, twitching from the edge of overstimulation. His cock, still streaming cum, slid out of you, pulsing the last of his release over your flushed entrance. For a while, all that could be heard was the sound of your breaths easing back from near hyperventilation. Mando’s grip on you was still possessive, but he shushed you gently and murmured praise into the back of your neck, hands circling your skin to ground your consciousness back down to him.

After that, Mando gently slid from behind you and lifted you into his arms. Your legs still shook from the onslaught, and he carried you quietly to the refresher where he helped you wipe yourself clean.

“All right?” He murmured as he brought a soft cloth to your inner thighs. You smiled sleepily and leaned your head forward to lay against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the cold metal.

“If that wasn’t you being jealous,” you whispered, “Maybe next time I should flirt back.”

[muensterfucker]

hello dincobb nation

[ghostofaboy]

Day Six - Kinktober 2024

Day 6: Rimming / Gags / Praise Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth Rating: Explicit | Word Count: 907 Warnings: Rimming, Din and Cobb being cute

Ghost of a Boy Kinktober Prompt List | Kinktober '24 Masterlist

Din loved Cobb’s easy way about him, despite the other man’s tough life. He somehow managed to make everything seem effortless and relaxed, and Din couldn’t help but marvel. Even now, doing something as simple as reading, Cobb seemed almost fluid as he sat in the chair, a sharp contrast to Din’s stiffness, even in a domestic setting.

They had the afternoon to themselves for a change, with Grogu happily playing at a neighbor's and Cobb’s new deputy watching over the town. Din had taken the opportunity to adjust and recalibrate his vambraces, while Cobb was content to read. As though feeling Din’s eyes on him through the visor of the ever-present helmet, Cobb smiled as he glanced over the top of the datapad.

“Somethin’ on your mind?” Cobb lowered the pad slightly to gesture at Din’s hands, stopped in mid-air, hovering over his equipment. “What’s goin’ on in that head of yours?”

“You.”

“Me?” Cobb set the pad down completely, grinning broadly at Din. “Well, shucks, you’re gonna get me blushin’. Anythin’ in particular about me?”

“Yes.” Din rose from his seat, carefully placing down the parts of his armor he’d been working on, and made his way over to Cobb. “But it’s hard to put into words.”

Cobb nodded, understanding. It wasn’t always easy for Din to explain his desires, and he was thankful that Cobb was patient with him. Cobb understood that sometimes, when it came to sex, Din needed to show him, rather than explain it. This was definitely one of those times.

“Where’d you want me?” Cobb smirked. 

“You can stay there.” Din slowly slid his helmet off, even now after all this time with Cobb feeling his heart pounding through his chest. Cobb couldn’t stop his eyebrows from shooting up at the rare sight of his husband’s face. “But you need significantly less clothes.”

“Yes Sir.” The smile returned, as both men quickly and efficiently tugged their clothes off. Time alone, out of the bedroom, was rare with a toddler in the house and the pair were becoming quite adept at undressing and redressing for quick trysts. 

Once all their clothes were on a pile on the floor next to Din, the Mandalorian lowered himself to his knees, his thick cock already erect bobbing against his thigh. Gently taking hold of each of Cobb’s legs at the knee, Din started to position him how he wanted. Each leg was hooked over an arm of the chair, while Cobb shuffled forward to bring his ass closer to the edge of the seat. The end result was Cobb displayed for him, his long hard dick resting on his stomach, and his twitching hole in full view. 

Locking eyes with Cobb, Din slowly leaned forward until his face was even with the other man’s entrance, before darting his tongue across the tight ring of muscle.

Cobb sucked in a breath. “Oh, that’s what’s in your head. I like it.”

Din grinned and, still keeping his eyes on his husband’s face, slowly began to circle the tip of his tongue around Cobb's rim. Above him he could hear Cobb take a sharp intake of breath, sending spikes of lust coursing through Din and straight to his cock. After circling a couple more times, Din flattened his tongue, sliding it against his lover’s hot entrance.

Cobb was squirming already, filling Din with pride as the ache of desire threatened to overwhelm him. This was just foreplay. A concept he was still adjusting to, rather than to the quick rough fucked he’d been used to in the past. He’d imagined this scenario in his head multiple times, and his goal was to work Cobb into such a state that his husband would beg him to fuck him.

And so Din savored Cobb, ravishing his tight hole with sloppy, wet kisses and long, slow licks. Never letting his eyes leave his husband’s face, Din watched Cobb dissolve into a flushed, writhing mess. The love and arousal clear with every huffed breath, and every quiet whimper.

Cobb looked blissed out, glazing down at Din as he flicked his tongue against Cobb’s hole. Darting his warm, wet tongue at the ring of muscle a few more times yielded the response Din was holding for. Holding back a moan, Cobb’s body shuddered, and his hole opened just enough for Din to push the tip of his tongue inside. Gripping hold of Cobb’s trembling thighs, Din set out working Cobb open, fucking him shallowly with his tongue.

His own cock throbbed in time with his heartbeat, as Cobb’s rested on his heaving stomach, a steady stream of precum tracing its way down his side. Cobb was writhing in the chair now, periodically pinching his eyes shut and in vain attempt to prolong this moment. Din was doubtful he could make Cobb climax like this, something Cobb was also probably aware of. 

The foreplay had become a standoff. Who would break first? Would be it Cobb? Would he moan and arch his back off the seat before begging Din to fuck him hard? Or would the thrum of Din’s own arousal finally be too much? Would he pull Cobb off the chair and pin him to the floor as he filled him with his cock.

Din grinned into Cobb’s ass, adjusting his grip on the other man’s thighs as he withdrew his tongue, pulling an objecting whine from Cobb. Only time would tell.

[skltart]

they<3

[regainingparadise]

Is it even Mandalorian romance if they haven't tried to knife each other at least once?

I've been thinking about the people I ship Din Djarin with, and realized that there's an inverse relationship between how much I ship a given couple, and how chill they are together.

Don't get me wrong, I'll happily ship Din with almost everyone, but the ones I get super into? Gimme some good angry fights.

(this says more about me than it does about any of these ships, and this is also 100% not a knock on any of the ships listed or not listed here. It's just me doing some pointless meta about my own tendencies)

In order:

Paz. I love him. They apparently fight all the goddam time. You cannot tell me there is not history there. It makes the times they're on the same side all the more impactful (and adorably awkward).

(I also ship Paz with Axe for the same reason)

2. Migs Mayfeld. Migs is just such a snarky shit, they have every reason to hate each other (/Migs has every reason to assume Din is gonna kill him). They've got the whole fun double-crossing history, and in many ways they're opposites and foils, but ultimately Migs respects and understands Din, and Mando is willing to trust him

3. Cobb Vanth: I mean, their first real interaction is "take it off or I will," so no surprise here. Vanth is very clearly 110% into Din, and they get over the violence phase of their relationship way faster than Din does with either Paz or Migs.

4. Boba Fett. They don't really have a murder phase of their relationship. We get a li'l tension and then they're besties. I ship it, but I'm not as into the ship, 'cause like, how can I ship Mandalorians if I haven't seen them fight each other?

5. Luke Skywalker. I love this ship because it's just...so logical, what with the coparenting. It's a ship in a slightly different category because it lends itself so much to the domestic/parent narrative. But if I'm reading Din/Luke fics, I like a nice (un)healthy dose of tension and possibly violence while they get to know each other

6. Omera. I love Omera/Din as a "what could have been if his life was very very different" ship--especially given that she apparently has some violence in her past that she's now escaped and found peace from.

[mandoloriancookie]

I totally see Din Djarin having a beer in the cockpit.

His over everyone shit.

[manofbeskar]

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

In a Perfect World, You Love Me [ii]

din djarin x female!reader

warnings: mentions of forced drug exposure and hallucinations, comfort to the angst i caused, self doubt, anxiety, mild PTSD from said forced drug exposure, confusion in reality

word count: 2,904

Summary: 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?

.

"kidnap me from my reality and crushed pieces in my soul, color me outside the lines until my shattered heart is whole." -perry

.

Mando’s hands dragged up and down your arms leaving a trail of fire wherever he touched. His modulated voice whispered about how badly he wanted⏤ no, needed⏤ your body. You may as well have been burning alive, melting into a puddle, with the way Mando surrounded every part of you. It was a sharp contrast to the cool metal of his helmet which pressed against the side of your face. “Mesh’la, you make the sweetest sounds.” A soft sigh left your lips. “Let me make you sing.”

You startled awake with a gasp. Every time you closed your eyes you were haunted by the spice dream. A week had passed and it was no better. Vanth said it was a lingering after effect of the glitterstim. It’d fade with time. You wondered if you’d survive long enough for that to be true⏤ you were running on nearly no sleep at all. 

The home you slept in was quiet. This room didn’t belong to you. It was a local place that Vanth had offered you, Mando, and Grogu while the two of you were in town. After the incident, you found out that the quarry Mando was searching for was tangled up in the same business as the pirates Vanth was trying to keep away from his town. So, Mando picked up Grogu from Mos Eisley, and now the three of you were staying in Mos Pelgo for the time being.

“Mesh’la.”

Hearing the nickname, as if it came straight from your spice induced nightmare, made you jump. You turned to see Mando sitting by the window in his full suit of armor. He was leaning against the wall casually with his arms crossed and legs outstretched. Grogu slept in the pram beside him. 

“What’s wrong?” He pressed.

“Just…” You paused. “Bad dream.”

“Do you⏤” Mando cleared his throat. “Do you…want to talk about it?”

Yes. More than want, you needed to. Waking up from the spice after effects was jarring, it left you wondering what was real and what wasn’t. As if the lines between spice and reality were blurred. But, Mando was the last person you could talk to about this. Everything about him confused you more. Being near him made you worry you were right back in that dream.

“No.” You lied, then threw your legs over the side of the bed. “I’m gonna go for a walk.” Mando seemed to shift in his seat so you quickly added. “I need some time alone, is all. I’ll be right back.”

Mando gave you a stiff nod. “Sure. Be, uh, be careful.”

You mumbled an affirmative while pulling on a pair of shoes. Then, you quickly left before he could chime in once more. It didn’t take you long to arrive to what Vanth called home. Mos Pelgo was pathetically tiny, after all. Vanth opened the door after you knocked on it for a few seconds. He wore casual sleep pants and a hoodie of some kind. His hair a mess from sleep.

“I’m so sorry.” You mumbled.

Vanth gave you a small smile. “Bad dream?” You nodded. “Come on in, darling.”

Anytime you came to him after the spice after effects plagued you, he’d sit with you and let you talk it out. He’d been very good at grounding you⏤ reminding you what was real and what wasn’t. The two of you had always been good friends and this experience had only deepened that in the most platonic of ways.

They said ignorance was bliss. Din had violated your personal space by following you, and he had been punished with the truth. Watching Vanth pull you into his home for the night after you said no to him about your bad dream was devastating. It would have hurt less if someone had just stabbed him in the chest with a vibroblade⏤ at least that injury had a chance of healing eventually. Din had avoided you since sunrise, not that it made a difference. With the awkward tension between the two of you since the attack things had felt wrong anyways.

With the way Vanth kept shooting him glances, Din assumed his bad mood was clearly evident.

“Tip says they should be hiding their stash somewhere out to the east.” Vanth motioned to an area on the map resting on the cantina counter between them. Din stayed silent. “Could probably get out there in an hour.” Good. Din had never wanted a mission to be over and done with faster. He just wanted to put as much distance between you and Vanth as possible. Which was obviously selfish of him, but Din never claimed to be otherwise. Although, deep down, a part of him was terrified that once this was over you wouldn’t want to continue traveling with him. “Little lady’s got the kid today right? Where is she?”

“Shouldn’t you know that.” Din snarked.

Vanth chuckled and it made Din stiffen where he stood. The marshal smirked. “Mando, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous.” Vanth clapped his hand against Din’s shoulder and winked at him. “Good thing I know you’re not the type.”

Din glared at the Vanth as he turned to leave. After a beat, Din hurried after him so he stepped outside to meet him on the cantina’s porch. He stopped Vanth from going any further, and Din set his hands on his hips with a huff. “How… What…” Dank farrik, he didn’t even know what to ask. “You and⏤ I saw her go into your place last night.”

“Yeah. And?”

“And…” Din locked his jaw then sighed. “I assume that means every other time she’s disappeared this week it’s been to visit with you.”

Vanth shrugged. “Safe assumption.”

If Din didn’t want to strangle Vanth before, he sure as hell wanted to now. The Mandalorian tried to find any ounce of patience left in his body before shaking his head. “I want to know how…serious the two of you are. I’m just trying to gauge if she’ll still want to…”

“Leave with you?” Vanth crossed his arms. The two men stared at one another for a tense moment. Finally, Vanth shook his head. “Why did you tell her you weren’t interested in her, man?” Din’s eyes widened and he tried not to let his body language show his surprise. “It’s obvious the exact opposite is true.”

“We need to get moving. We’re losing daylight.” Din blurted.

“Sure thing.” Vanth nodded. He began to pass him once more, but the marshal stopped to shoot him a charming, annoying grin. “You need to talk to her about her spice experience.”

Din huffed and followed after him. It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying.

“Oh, mesh’la, such a good girl for me. How lucky am I to have you all to myself? You’re mine. You’re⏤”

Your eyes snapped open and you could physically feel your heart ache. What did you do to deserve this? Yeah, you were stupid enough to fall for the Mandalorian. And, yeah, you were even stupider to admit those feelings to said Mandalorian. However, you firmly believed you handled that rejection with a decent amount of grace. Enough so that you deserved at least a little reprieve from this nightmare.

Grogu cooed from the chair beside you, as if he could tell how bothered you were. The fact that you passed out and fell asleep sitting upright inside the cantina was a fair hint at how fucked up you were though. You rubbed the boy’s head and mumbled quiet curses under your breath. Maker, you’d do anything to get past this⏤ pay any damn price. You hoped that Mando and Vanth would finish taking care of the damn quarry so you could leave this planet. Hopefully, the further you got away from Tatooine the less the spice after effects would have a hold on you.

As if fate itself heard your thoughts, a message flashed across your communicator from Mando telling you they had caught the quarry. You breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Come on, kid.” You scooped him up and rose. “We’re getting off this hell hole.”

It didn’t take you long at all to pack up everyone’s belongings, and then you sat outside with Grogu waiting for the Razor Crest to come into view⏤ trying desperately to keep your eyes open. Mando said he was taking the land speeder straight to Mos Eisley where he could take care of the quarry then he’d bring the Crest to you and Grogu. The sound of footsteps wandered over and seconds later Vanth dropped down to sit beside you. 

“The kid catch anything interesting to eat?” Vanth motioned to Grogu who was waddling in the sand a few feet from you.

“Some kind of lizard. I think he’s taking advantage of how tired I am.” You chuckled. “I’m not quick enough to snatch things from him right now.”

“Clever boy.” He responded and you hummed. Vanth set a hand on your shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. “Are you gonna be alright, darling?”

You shrugged. “I have to be, don’t I?”

“No. You’re allowed to be hurt. Scared. Any other damn thing you feel.”

“It’s not exactly a convenient time for me to have a melt down.”

Vanth chuckled. “Emotions usually aren't convenient.” You couldn’t see it yet, but you could hear the Crest rumbling closer. “You need to talk to Mando about all this.” You shot Vanth a glare. “I’m serious. Neither of you are gonna get past this if you don’t talk about it.”

“Do you know how awkward it’ll be to tell Mando I had a sex hallucination about him while on spice?” You scoffed. “He’ll think I’m psychotic.”

Vanth shook his head. “I think you’d be surprised.”

Too tired to argue, you just leaned over to rest your head on Vanth’s shoulder. He shifted so he could wrap his arms around you in comfort. You were unsure how much time had passed, and you hadn’t seen the Crest land, but Mando wandered into your view. He gave you a small nod and you pushed to sit up.

“Are you…ready to go?” Mando asked.

“Absolutely.” You replied. It didn’t take long to say good-byes and you took the time to thank Vanth for what had to be the hundredth time. He urged you to talk to Mando and you gave him a smile while tossing away his advice mentally. You had embarrassed yourself enough in front of Mando with everything that had happened. Adding ‘talk about your sex hallucination’ was not going to be something you did in this lifetime. 

Everything seemed to slip into a normal pattern as you got Grogu ready for bed and Mando got the ship into hyperdrive. You really hoped that when you crawled into your usual cot tonight you’d find yourself in a dreamless state. Grogu looked so peaceful as he dozed off in his pram, and for a moment you stared at him in jealousy. Great, you were jealous of a 50 year old toddler. You closed the pram and rubbed your features.

“Mesh’la.”

You jumped in place and turned around to see Mando had climbed down the ladder into the cargo hold with you. You let out a breath, “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry. I know you haven’t been sleeping well.”

“I’m hoping being back on the Crest helps with that.”

Mando nodded. He shifted a few steps closer and cleared his throat. “Can we⏤ Can we talk?” You nearly laughed at how nervous the Mandalorian sounded. It wasn’t often you got to see him in this state. You motioned for him to continue with a shrug. “I was talking to Vanth. He said we should… talk about the spice issue.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“You don’t have to.” Mando held a hand out. “That’s not what I’m saying.” He took another step, and he was close enough that if you let out a hot breath it would fog up his beskar covered chest. Mando nodded. “I want to tell you about mine. Is that alright?”

“I… I guess.”

Mando paused for a tense moment before sighing, “It was you.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted. I was lying to myself⏤ lying to you, and I am… I am so sorry, mesh’la. I know I hurt you. It was the last thing I wanted to do. But, in trying to avoid hurting you I know I… hurt you.”

“You… want me?” You asked in surprise.

Mando chuckled. His gloved hand lifted to softly cup the side of your face. “I always have. Since the moment you stepped onto this ship. Mesh’la, you are everything.”

“I…” You paused as a warning bell rang at the back of your mind. Quickly, you shook your head and took a step back. Mando’s hand stayed in the air where you had been. “No, no. I’m stuck again.”

“What?”

“I’m trapped in the dream again.” You covered your face and willed yourself awake. Come on, come on. Wake up, you idiot. “This isn’t happening. This isn’t real.”

“Mesh’la⏤”

“Stop.” You snapped. “I can’t do this again.”

“Again?” Mando sounded taken aback. You heard him hurry closer and his hands grasped yours to pull them away from your face. Tears of frustration pricked at your eyes. “Mesh’la. Mesh’la, was I your dream?”

“Yeah.” You gasped and tried to pull away from him, but his firm grip wouldn’t let you do so. “How in the hell do you think I snapped out of it, Mando!? I’m just stupid and desperate and⏤”

“Stop⏤”

“⏤and I don’t understand why I won’t wake up again!” You cried. “Why won’t I wake up?!”

Mando shifted his hands to your arms, locking you in place, and he leaned his forehead against yours. The cold beskar making you shiver. “This is real, mesh’la. I’m so sorry. This is my fault for lying to you in the first place. I just⏤ You deserve better so I tried to push you away but…” You tried to pull away again and Mando spoke again. “What do I have to do? How do I prove this is real?”

“Wake up, wake up, wake up.” You mumbled to yourself, eyes shut tight. It never goes further than this⏤ it never can. It always goes dark and you wake up. Wake up. Wake up⏤

“It never goes further?” Mando pressed and your eyes snapped open. Had you said that aloud? “Is it because… You don’t know me. Your mind can’t imagine what it doesn’t know.” This was getting ridiculous. What the fuck was wrong with you? You continued to try and pull away and closed your fists tightly enough to press your nails into your palm⏤ praying the pain would jolt you awake. “Alright.”

His hands suddenly left you and you thought surely this was the start of you finally waking up.

Instead of coming to, you watched in shock as Mando’s hands lifted to his helmet and with no fanfare or build up, he pulled it up and off. Time may have stopped, you may have stopped breathing, you weren’t sure. A stranger was staring down at you, helmet tucked under his arm, with the kindest brown eyes you had ever seen. They were filled with concern and a raw vulnerability you had never seen. A mustache made of brown hair sat above his upper lip and it matched the scruff along his jawline and the messy, loose curls that sat atop his head. 

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but then the stranger’s eyes softened to admiration and a voice you knew by heart whispered your name. Without thought, your hand lifted to trace his features. His eyes fluttered closed at your touch and a soft exhale left his parted lips.

“Mando?” You mumbled.

He shook his head, eyes opening once more, and he lightly grasped your hand to press it firm against his face. “No. Din.” You felt warm tears drip down your cheeks. “My name is Din Djarin, and you mean everything to me, mesh’la. I am so sorry I ever made you doubt that.”

“This is real?” You whispered. No spice dream had ever gone this far.

“Real. It’s real.” Din leaned in once more so his forehead pressed against yours and the warmth it brought sent a shiver down your spine. “This is real.”

Every single fiber of your being wanted to believe him, most of it did, but there was still a lingering voice of disbelief yelling at the back of your mind. But, you knew exactly how to bowl over that last negative thought. You tilted your head up to softly press your lips against his. Din didn’t pull away, he didn’t deny you that touch, he simply pressed in further to meld his lips around yours. The two of you pulled back after a gentle second and your lips twitch up into a smile at that simple but strong confirmation. 

“You wouldn’t kiss me in my dream.” You admitted. 

“The real me is much too weak to deny you that.” Din replied. He let his helmet fall to his feet so he could wrap both his arms around you. “And if I have to spend the rest of my existence reminding you this is real, with my lips alone, I’d be the luckiest man in the galaxy.”

“Good. Remind me some more.”

[xxlumos]

Autumn vibes in the cantina 🍂

As the zines are shipped out, I can finally post my piece for @dincobbzine , so here it is! My theme was autumn, so I went with an orange color palette and let them craft some chestnut figurines with Grogu 🧡