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divinehedons · 2 years ago

Text

fallen gods.

Pairing: dark!Din Djarin x f!reader

Summary: The life of a bounty hunter rejects conformity with humanity. When the Mandalorian abandons you on a job, you swore to yourself you would never forgive him. That doesn't mean it would stop him from repenting; no matter how twisted it turns him against you.

Warnings: This is a dark fic, minors DO NOT interact. Non-con turned dub-con? (tagging as both for safety), angst, Din Djarin is a touch-starved mf, rough explicit unprotected p in v, breeding kink, some form of body worship, the helmet comes off!

Word Count: ~2.6k

Reblogs and comments are much appreciated; requests for shorter drabbles welcome!

Wit and cunning is the way of life for many within the galaxy. It was no secret. Work yourself to the bone, always look death in the eye, and trust no one. It was the last of those rules that always ended up forgotten. Complacency was fool's gold, love is a vulnerability.

You had trusted the Mandalorian once. In a different lifetime. You had worked a few bounties together, shared some battles, fought in others. "You know, some people would refer to us as a strained friendship," you once told him within the bowels of space, surrounded with nothing but the shine of distant far-off stars and the bellowing walls of the Razor Crest.

"We aren't other people," he merely said in return, gruff and closed off as ever, handing you your half of the bounty. "See you whenever, cyari'ka."

It was ideal. It was perfect. Neither served no country, you bore no allegiances and he belonged to his covert; followers only where the credits go.

It all came to a head in a mission gone bad, the experience as sharp as sour milk on a summer's day. It is a memory that will forever tighten your jaw, a memory from which you have never found in your heart to forgive him. Not when you pounded against the airlock windows, watching him limp away in his tarnished armor while you screamed for him, while the enemy eventually drags you away.

He abandoned you. So, what? So you get tortured until parts of you are forever mangled and stirred before you were flushed out, abandoned, about to float into space if you hadn't crawled your way into the nearest transport. So it goes.

Or so it would have, if you never saw the Mandalorian again.

In Tatooine's cantina, drenched in the shadows beneath your cloak, examining a bounty puck with a raised brow, settling for your price. It was some noble. An easy job, something to keep your mind busy. When you hear that all too familiar sound of his boots, you glance in the direction of the entryway, where the shadows of the past you had wanted so badly to worry came crawling out and kneeling before him.

He who stood glorious and brand new. He with his somewhat new beskar armour. He with a Child trailing behind him, following him so eagerly and so joyously that you feel the envy sinking into your bones. He who had abandoned you was happy, glorious and brand new.

Perhaps it was how inhuman the new armour looked on his already too emotionless body language. But there simply was something about him that was chillingly, undeniably cold.

You finish your drink, you pocket your possessions, and you pass through him gruffly as you leave. You feel his gaze follow you as you disappeared into the warm midday of the two suns, never once looking back as you clenched your fists in your hands. You do not see him again.

At least not until you brought back with you the head of your bounty to collect your payment.

You still reek of blood when you savour drink in Nevarro, the weight of the credits in your pocket enough to keep you satisfied. Your fingers are marked with your slaughter when you feel that all-too-familiar presence sinking into the seat beside yours.

"So," he began, as if grasping and searching for the right words to say. "You seem well." You try and focus on the drink before you, skin almost crawling with the way his eyes seemed to take in the details of your changed form from up close. The way he looked indicated he had done this before from a distance, that he was unsatisfied without knowing more.

"I'm not talking to you, Mando."

You rise to leave, drink unfinished as you try and pass by him. But when his gloved hand encloses your arm, you freeze in your spot, jaw clenched as you finally look back to him and letting him see the surface of your damages. You feel his hold slacken as he comprehended the shifts in your features. The slope of your nose, broken and resetted in a way that was not quite right. The cracked surface of your lower lip, scabbed over and still somewhat healing. The indication of more injuries, barely peeking past the collar of your tabard.

"Do you have a place for the night?"

It is how you end up in the open evening by his small home, watching the darkness as he asked you to wait as he soothed his youngling to sleep. He returns with liquor that slowly weakens you, opens you up to his insistence, his curiosity. So you tell him. You tell him of what happened when you were taken away. You tell him of those incomprehensible days, spitting out the details as if by doing so, they would cease from haunting your days ever again.

"You abandoned me, Mando," you finally grit out, moving away when he reaches to touch you again. "And you come back with brand new armour, a home, and a child-" You swing again, working up a temper as your blows seem to hit him but never affect him. You cannot see his features, and perhaps he laughs at your meager attempts of vengeance.

You hit and hit until his large hand catches both of your wrists, pulling you both into the warmth of his arms and the cruel chill of beskar, emanating past the layers of clothing. You allow a whine of frustration, struggling in his grip as the murmur escapes him. Let me see, cyari'ka.

You abandon the bottle of spirits. You let him half-carry and half-drag you to his bedroom, easing you into bed despite your protestations. You attempt to struggle—and yet it is fruitless. As if your inebriated, broken body stood a chance against a Mandalorian at his prime. Skillfully, his free hand frees you from your cloak and tabard, more and more skin revealed to show him the markings left on your skin, evidence of his betrayal and your sufferings immortalized in the hymn of broken skin.

"Dank Farrik, adi'ka-"

"Let go of me, Mando!" Your cries fall on somehow deaf ears, wrists pinned above your head as he trails his gloved fingers so softly, so gently over the litany of unseen tortures.

"Din Djarin," he finally speaks, visor turning to you once more as you regard the cool beskar helmet in shaky silence. "My name is Din Djarin."

There is a moment of silence, both of you listening as to whether or not his child had awoken with your struggles. He never breaks your gaze, or at least you imagined not to, seeing little behind the dark slits of his visor. "I never wanted to abandon you."

You shut your eyes as you struggle once more in his arms. You attempt a scream but all you hear is the hissing of air, the all-too-human sound of breathing, the sensation of it on your neck. When he speaks again, his voice sounds different, now unhindered by the modulator.

"Look at me. Please."

It is rare to hear the sound of his voice unhindered by the distances that had always stood between them. It is even rarer to hear him with such brokenness seeping through the cracks of the cadences of his voice. When you open your eyes, you are greeted with his own. The colour of amber. The pink of his lips. Facial hair and waves and waves of chocolate.

He once asked why you had gotten into this mess. You spoke well. You spend moments of nothingness between bounties reading things he could barely comprehend. You asked too if he had ever seen insects floating in amber. He tilts his head as if he waited for you to continue.

"Well, here we are, Mandalorian," you had said, tilting your head back and shutting your eyes as you relaxed. "There is no why. There simply is."

Were you now the same insect, drowning in the amber of the Mandalorian's eyes? Of all the things he was devoted to, the ways of his covert were perhaps at the top of that list. Had he willingly rendered himself an apostate now? For what?

He whispers to you as his lips trace your skin, despite your whines and your attempts to evade his lips. Again and again, the same syllables repeating with each and every mark he came across.

Mesh'la. Mesh'la. Mesh'la.

The fight within you is renewed when he attempts to bind you to the bed, wrists captured with bindings digging into your skin. You protest, you cry, you almost beg. But when you look him in the eye, you know he will never listen. You know he is overtaken by his own desire to be clean, to prove to himself that he is good.

"I hate you," you finally whisper, "and I'll hate you even more when you do this, Din Djarin."

He pauses for a moment and fragments of you wonder if it is enough to snap him out of his delusions, enough to bring him enough sanity for reason. A flicker of familiarity registers in his gaze, only to disappear once more in the grip of darkness as he kisses you wantonly, hands cradling your cheeks with a gritted sigh of exasperation.

"Pray that it will stop me from wanting you, adi'ka."

Those words tether you and freeze you to your spot while he continues his descent along your vulnerable frame. Gloved hands tug on your pants and the rest of your underwear, pulling it just down to your ankles with a broken moan at the sight of your skin. He uses his teeth to pull off the right hand glove, two fingers spreading you open into the cool evening. His knees weaken at the sight of your tight cunt, all for him to savour whether or not you wanted him to.

"I heard you," he murmurs, raising himself back to face level as he watches your features once more. "In those long nights in the Crest. I heard the way you whimpered when you get close. The way you kept begging at air. I was right there, cyare, I would have given you everything."

You vaguely remember those dark and lonely evenings, cooped up with nothing to do and hours upon hours of time. You stare back at him and whine softly, tilting your head back as your cheeks redden. "You told me we weren't that kind of partners so I... I never tried-"

He kisses you with teeth and hunger, the way the beast devours the prey at the end of a long, arduous hunt. He bites your lower lip enough to reopen where it once split. When your blood reaches his tongue, he could have sworn it was the first he ever felt somewhat close to being satisfied. Your pained yelp is sweeter than music. He looks to your face and he sees the face of something he had never believed in. Nothing else mattered, there was only you.

It was then that he resolved it within himself. He will take and he will take until you quell the hellfire of want that plagued him all this time.

It takes less than a minute before he has impatiently freed his aching cock, weeping with pre-cum and aching for the warmth of your walls. It takes even shorter for his thumb to brush your clit repeatedly, despite your protests and attempts to kick him off, as if it was his last mercy to his beloved prey.

Your cries rear to their most desperate when he grinds the head of his desire against you, giving you just enough of a taste of just how much more he can ruin you. And when he does fuck into your cunt in one fluid motion, it all becomes too much. The burn from the stretch of your walls accomodating him, the burn of his beard against your neck as he adds to the litany of markings against your skin, and even to the gentleness in his hands that which contrasted the violence of his loins.

While you wept, he becomes utterly frozen at the embrace of your own flesh against his. The suffocating breath of pleasure bubbling beneath your skin, like an itch that provokes, dares to be scratched.

If such were the sins of the flesh, then he wouldn't want to look anywhere else.

He fucks you steadily, desperately while he kisses away the tears on your cheeks, fingers tracing each and every mark that to him belonged only entirely to you, that made you what you are to him- his very own violent act of creation. He fucks you as your tears melt into whines, and then again into soft moans, cradling you as one would with a babe.

You orgasm twice despite your struggles. It is a sound he knows all too well and a sensation that is all too new to him. You'd clench and tremble around him in fits of divine ecstasy, lips parted as your whines become all the more sweeter. And when he wouldn't stop, neither did your climax halt for you, even when fresh tears escaped you just from how overwhelming it had gotten.

It is then that he imagines something else entirely. Your warrior's body, straining and struggling so courageously as you birth him a child, his bloodline expanding, intertwined with that of your own. He pictures the wit and cunning that flows from you, pictures it in Mandalorians in battle. The mere thought of its possibility is enough for a tremor to quake through his already too eager frame.

He shushes you gently, kissing you once more as his thrusts stutter, struggles, attempts to hold back the orgasm that threatens to stop the barrage of heaven he had found himself privy to. He kisses you once again, the burn of his beard against your sensitive skin just adding once more into the sensation of the third orgasm that builds and bubbles beneath your skin. In silence, his ungloved hand sinks between you, pinching one of your nipples with a tug before rolling it between his fingers, just enough that you arch into him, begging him without words for more.

"Birth me a warrior, cyari'ka. One as strong and as glorious as you are right now." Your eyes watch him, attempting to speak when two of his fingers sink between your parted lips, your renewed struggle weak and meaningless when he freezes, grits his teeth, hardness drawn and aiming for one goal, thrusting harder and harder and holding just to see your features contort into your third orgasm. It is then that he loses all control, fucking up into you with stuttering hips. "Such a brilliant girl. You'll take my seed well, won't you?"

His warmth encompasses you, fills you, floods you with his seed. Your body surrendering into his hold as he fucks the both of you through your release, body falling into yours with a pleasured hum.

He stays, as if the longer he remains, the higher the likelihood it would be that his seed takes. His weight against yours soothes you into a soft, dreamless sleep, hardly interrupted by the way he frees you from your bindings. You hum in your sleep, mind freed and flying away into the nothingness of rest.

You whisper in the limbo between dreams and reality. "When will you learn how to regret, Din Djarin?"

He couldn't help but soften as you melted into the most peaceful slumber he had ever seen you take. Only when your frame completely relaxes does he finally speak. "Adi'ka, I have lived in it without you. And I shall do everything I am capable of to never experience it again."

#din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #dark!din djarin x reader #dark!din djarin #dark!din djarin smut #the mandalorian smut #writing

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aliorsboxostuff · 2 years ago

Note

So how about sub din who is just started to date Dom reader and hasn't taken his helmet off yet. So things are getting steamy with them both and is din sitting on readers lap grinding on him and reader asks if he wants to take a step further and din nods yes. And reader makes sure that din is comfortable and says to leave the helmet on for din and doesn't want to rush him. And leads to din first time with reader and is riding him in the control room in the razor crest. I hope you are doing good and really glad that you are taking mandalorian requests.-🐸

A/N Oh 🐸, you with your amazing ideas, and always so descriptive! Though I gotta change the 'Started dating reader' part because the Din in my heart is a socially awkward mf that needs at LEAST 6 months of relationship development before holding hands. I also hope you are doing well! Yall gotta bear with me here this is gonna be my FIRST take on a star wars fic, let alone a Mandalorian fic, so if I do make any mistakes while writing some Mando'a words here, feel free to DM me or reply so I can fix where I wrote it wrong! As always, apologies for some mistakes, english is my 2nd language, and enjoy dear Readers! <3

Ner Din'ika

Tags: Din Djarin x m!Reader, Grogu, Luke Skywalker, he's there as Grogus's teacher tho lmao, Mando'a words (Translation at the end), Bottom!Din, soft!Din, Keldabe kiss, First Kiss, Riding, Pet names, touch-starved!Din, fluff, fluff and smut, aftercare.

Din's first time with you is—as expected—filled with yearning and want and scalding touches and a kiss?

[Takes place around the time frame of Grogus training in Book of Boba Fett, but i refuse to let The Razor Crest explode so here we are]

You stand at the mouth of The Razor Crest, watching as Din supervised Grogu’s latest training with Luke. The kid has flown a total of five little pebbles and an even more impressive number of bigger boulders, seven now counting. Din, worry and protectiveness practically oozing from his armor, stands off to the side, just near the tree lines, eyes watchful of his foundling as Luke, yet again, lets the little boy fly over his head. You’d deem it dangerous, stars, maybe irresponsible. But what do you know about Jedi training?

Instead, your eyes follow the line of Din's stature. His arms are crossed, leaning against some of the bamboos. Clearly trying to resemble a sort of relaxed stance, but you can see the tension, feel it even. Comes with being a Mandalorian’s boyfriend, you chuckle. Those broad shoulders lean back, Beskar reflecting the shining light of the growing evening, slowly he turns his head to glance at you sitting on the Crest’s mouth. You meet his visor, grinning, before he curtly turns back to where he was watching his kid. Your smile widens.

You met him through Cara Dune. She’s a good friend of yours, the one who pulled you out of your boring everyday life on Sorgan, used to fish the little morsels from your villages ponds, to hanging around her and earned her respect. Until that Beskar donned man and his little green kid came. Thought he wanted to take in Cara and you were ready to step in his way, but after they dueled, they came to a truce and started their alliance. He helped the villagers fight off the raiders that once terrorized the place, and once that's done he opted to leave, not before you hitched a ride to Nevarro with Cara.

It had to be admitted, the kid did catch your heart and held on to it, so you offered to help him and Grogu find his kind. Cycles after your initial meeting, you’ve grown close with both Din and Grogu, curious at the man’s past and equally drawn to him. Then that imperial bastard, Moff Gideon, had to up and steal the kid. So you, Cara, Bo-Katan and Hell, Boba Fett himself, joined forces to save him.

The universe truly is bountiful to its protector, because you didn't take into account that saving The Mandalorians kid would give you the honor of learning his name and, by stars, becoming his boyfriend. Remembering back to those months, you still think you're the luckiest warrior in the whole galaxy to be blessed with such an amazing and loving clan of three.

Reeling back to reality, far into the field, you see Grogu has gone tired and Luke has halted their training for the day, the little green guy already slumping into the dirt below and curling in on himself. You sigh fondly, walking down the ramp and jogging to wear Grogus doe eyes are already half lidded, and he yawns.

“Come here kiddo,” You coo as you pick up his little body, cradling him in your arms. You see Luke talking to Din, too far away for you to catch, but you could see him nodding to Lukes animated chatter. You smile, glancing back down to Grogus little head burying himself deeper into your warmth, he’s already pawing at the jacket you're wearing, which makes you giggle and pull it around his little body.

Luke walks over to where you’re standing, smiling as he sees Grogu already bundled up by you. “We should have dinner first before we sleep, right Grogu?”

Now that made his floppy ears perk. Grogu immediately turns from where you were hugging him, making grabby hands and incoherent words at the idea of food, which you smile at before handing him to Lukes waiting arms.

“We’ll join you in a bit,” You said, and Luke nodded, already turning back into the direction of his temple.

On cue, Din approaches you and slides an arm around your middle, pulling you to him at which you welcome the tug. With a steady hand on the cool Beskar chest plate, the two of you watch as Grogu flails his arms around, undoubtedly talking about something that only Luke could understand, the serenity of the fields surrounding you lulls you into a sense of peace. You turn to meet Dins visor, directed at Luke and Grogu, before it slowly turns to you, making you smile softly. Slowly, you bring your hand to caress the side of his helmet, fingers edging slightly under it, taking in the feeling of that powerful metal that has saved your boyfriend countless times. His gloved hand holds your wrist, not tugging away, just an anchor, a testament to his trust in you to know you’ll never take off his helmet, to know you’re patient to let Din take his own pace.

The hand holding his helmet pulls slightly, and Din comes with. Your eyes flutter close as you feel the cold Beskar touch your crown, sighing when a shaky hand cups your jaw, bringing you closer. Despite the gap the armor creates, you’re never tired of feeling Dins hand on your nape, heavy over your pulse, burning even through his gloves. You smile, pulling back slightly, before you press a kiss to where his cheeks would be. “Let’s eat, cyar’ika,” You whisper, and you feel him nod.

You smile when he pulls back, arm still securely on your hips while the other smoothes over your jaw. You chuckle, pulling him to the smell of dinner being prepared by Luke, tugging him by his hand.

—

After dinner is done and cleaned, Din has given Grogu his nightly bath and the kid is ready to pass out at any moment. Luke has taken him to his quarters and settled the little one on his own bed, just on the other side of his room. The bots have yet to make more sleeping quarters, still focusing on more classes and storage area, so the only available bed room would be Lukes, where Grogu is also staying.

You and Din have known this from your last visits, opting to sleep in the privacy of the Crest instead. So you and Din bid the two a good night, and trek up the clearing where the ship is docked.

Din’s arm never left your side, holding and pressing slightly, making you arch a brow at him. He only stares at you, undoubtedly false innocent eyes inside that helmet. You scoff, nudging him aside before pressing the button to close the ramp, submerging the two of you in the darkness of the Crest, shards of the twin moons the only thing leading you and Din up into the hull of the ship.

His hands now roam around your body, pushing you slightly until your back hits the wall, you return his desperate touch with the same fervor. Finding the sliver of body suit on his hip not covered by his armor, you snake insistent fingers into the fabric and squeeze, his helmet not able to hide his groan.

“Easy dearest,” You smooth your hand over the area, other hand holding the side of his neck, thumb drawing soothing circles. “Let's take these off, alright?” He nods shakily.

You lead him to the compartment next to the sleeping pod, the table there clean of clutter and made to store Dins armor. Piece by piece, starting with his shoulder pauldrons, each part eased off with care, pressing a kiss to the Mudhorn signet, you can hear Dins stuttered breath. Then down to his vambraces, littering kisses from his shoulder and leading a path down to his forearm, then hands as you carefully pry off those thick gloves. You push Din slightly so his waist hits the edge of the table, pressing another kiss to the bare skin of his hand, half lidded eyes meets his visor at which you hear him exhale a ragged breath.

Carefully unbuckling the belts around his breastplate, setting it on the table before you pull off the breastplate, the bodystocking stretches over his broad chest deliciously. As you put the armor piece aside, your hand smoothes over the fabric, pressing slightly where you know Din is sensitive the most, watching him inhale sharply before you smirk, littering kisses on your way down. As you crouch, you move to take off each leg piece, first tigh guards, pressing light kisses on the exposed fabric, then shin guards and the belts on top of it, then finally the knee-pads and his heavy boots. Gentle hands stoke up slightly, pushing the end of his pants up until you feel the tickle of leg hair, Din visibly shaking on top of you, gripping the table behind him until his scarred knuckles turn white.

You smile, languidly making your way up his body, unwrapping his cape and setting it aside. The final divide between you and your boyfriend. His last brick, and the wall crumbles down.

Shaking hands clasps at your back as you press kisses on his still covered clavicle, making the fabric damp and warm as he squirms. You hear his breath grow ragged, then you bite down, just enough to hear him groan and drop his head to your shoulder, his hands holding onto you like a lifeline.

“Sleeping pod or-”

“T-the cockpit…” He falters as you press another kiss nearing his neck. “Please,”

You hum, nodding against his neck before leading him by the hand, careful touches along his hips as you usher him up the stairs. You follow suit, not forgetting to grab the lube from the compartment on the wall.

When your feet touch the cockpits floor, Din impatiently pulls you up, hands stroking over your chest, down to your hips at which he breathes raggedly under your chin. You chuckle, moving him back until he feels the control panel. He almost jumps to sit on it, but you sit back on the captain's chair, you pull him towards you, making him stumble into your lap. His whine reverberates through his helmet's modulator adding a static edge to it. You made sure he’s comfortable before sliding your hands to his back, reaching to tug the zipper down.

The zippers opens his backside into the night's cold air, making him arch into your warm touch, pressing his clothed cock to your lap. He whines from the movement, holding on to your shoulders, almost crushing them. With each skin slowly being revealed into the night's air, you press your lips against it, reveling in each whine and ragged breath you got out of Din. With every part of the suit being peeled, Din’s tanned skin is shown, bathed under the light of the moons and stars. Scars on his body paint an infinite constellation, your eyes following each one, from the deep ones to those that have grown lighter than Dins expanse of skin.

Finally, he pulls at the tight bodysuit, discarding it somewhere on the floor, and his hands paws at your jacket, labored breath impatiently prying it off of your figure. You grin, shrugging the article off, followed by your shirt, leaving the both of you shirtless and breathless. Dins shaking hand strokes down your shoulder, to your arms, before he arches into you when your languid fingers trace his sensitive back, sending jolts rippling through his body.

“Please…” Despite his helmet still perfectly secured on his head, you could feel his warmth ghosting at your neck. It truly has been a while since you and Din shared some privacy, always jumping from planet to planet, looking for more Mandalorians to repair broken bonds and doing favors that benefit Din’s covert. Only now did you and your boyfriend get to breathe in the warm embrace of peace within this planet, so you're not surprised just how sensitive Din has gotten.

“What do you need kar’ta?” Your hand holds Dins hip, no doubt leaving marks to be cherished in the morning, letting him grind himself on your thigh, broken moans and breath singing into your ears. You pride yourself for learning bits of Mando’a if only to hear his gasps each time you use it. “Hm? What do you want?”

“I- ugh,” Din grunts as he feels one hand snakes into his trousers, stroking him steadily, his precum easing the movement. You smirk, other hand tweaking one of his perked nipples, bumping your head against his, making sure the amber in your eyes burns through his visor. The need melts into his skin.

You’ve never gone past reverent touches and helping each other get off by hand, you haven't even gotten the pleasure of seeing Din fall apart by your mouth, but from the way he grinds into your touch, broken moans filling the room, his desperation leaks into your body. “Want me to fuck you?”

“Stars- Yes.” He moans when you tighten your hand just so. You nod, easing your hand away from his cock which makes him whine, until you begin to help him out of his pants.

“Okay, alright,” Your breath stutters when Din grinds over your cock, already tenting in the confines of your pants. Between you and Din’s relationship, the both of you haven't truly moved on from scalding touches and helping each other get off by hand. This is a new territory for Din, and you have to make sure he feels safe and comfortable in your embrace.

You carefully slide him out of his trousers along with his briefs and discard it with the same pile as his top, feeling his strong thighs shake underneath your touch. Fumbling for the bottle of lube, you pour just enough on your hand and warm it up a bit, before following Din’s tailbone down to the top of his arse. He shivers, whining into your shoulder as he feels your digits ghosts over his hole, already squirming in your hold.

“Come on, please,” He begs, nails scratching at your back. You slowly insert one finger, the tip first, letting the Din situate himself to the foreign feeling. He groans, burying himself deeper between the crook of your neck, his mandibles digging slightly at your jaw. The lube easies your finger to push more, deeper, until you hear his high pitch, broken moan, then slowly push in another. At that, he jerks his head to the side, chest still flushed with yours.

When you begin scissoring, Din throws his head back, arches into your touch, which beckons you to chase him, biting at the now exposed column of his neck, making sure to leave marks no one but you know and Din could feel. Din feels delirious, deeply intoxicated from both your fingers and the feeling of your warm mouth pressing over sensitive skin and old scars, jolting each time you bite down or kiss longer to leave darker spots. He scarcely remembers moaning out broken syllables that should form your name, making your hold on his hips tighten, squeezing the scarred skin.

After deeming it enough prep, you carefully pull your fingers out, pressing kisses on the planes of your boyfriend's chest, feeling him take ragged breaths, a steady hue of red throughout his body. You shuffle to discard your pants, hissing when you feel the cold air hit your heated skin. You could feel Din growing impatient, if the way he squirms could be interpreted as that, so you tug your pants off and align yourself under Din.

“Slowly baby, slowly,” You remind him, his thigh shaking with anticipation. Hands holding under his thigh, making sure gravity doesn't take hold, you lower Din’s shivering body, inch by inch. The tight heat of his hole almost stutters your hold, making you groan, feeling the head of your cock inside him. You can feel Dins graps digs into your shoulders as he gasps.

Finally, your thighs are flushed with Dins, feeling the man shudder above you as you try to regain some sort of composure, breathing in shaking breaths. Din claws his way from your pellicals to your chest, making red rivers across your chest. You groan, pushing into his touch, which in turn shifts where you sat, enough to make your boyfriend shiver.

"M-move." He manages. "Move, please."

"Anything for you mesh'la," You say as your teeth dangerously ghosts over his pulse.

Planting your feet on the metal floor, you suppress the cold that shoots up your bones and instead focus on holding Din upright, thrusting into him with each movement. His arms shakes, moves back to grip the control panel, his scarred knuckles a hue lighter. A deep growl rumbles through you when you feel Din’s hole clenching around you, raking blunt teeth across his chest. You trail reverent kisses across a deep scar that runs from his left clavicle to just under his abdomen, Din shivers. In a more tender moment, slowed down after release with the two of you tangled together, you would've asked what those scars meant, wondering about the stories of your boyfriend's life. Maybe later, much later in the night.

When you hear a mewl, almost a hurt sound coming from the man currently flushed on top of you, your lips curls into a sharp grin, before hauling Din from gripping at the ships console to fall into your grasp, his arms immediately around your neck with a choked gasp from the sudden change. With the chair supporting both of your weight, you have the advantage to claw at Din’s hips, digging calloused fingers into his skin, using your strength to push Din up and down.

You feel yourself nearing the edge, with Din clenching around you it’s hard to keep up the pace. The side of his helmet would leave an angry mark on your shoulder, making you grunt when Din lets out a broken whimper and buries his head to the crook of your neck. “C-close, baby,”

“Me too…” He lets out a breathy moan when your hand finds his dick, pumping it hastily, pushing him to his limit.

“Stars i-” You stutter when Din clenches around you. “Fuck- Wish i can kiss you,”

Slip of a tongue. Shit.

Your movement falters, a shiver shoots up when Din pulls his head back, dark visors looking straight to you, assessing you.

"Din i-" But before you could sputter out a reason, an apology for forsaking the trust he gave you, darkness suddenly envelops your vision, rendering you blind. Dins hand covers your eyes, you could feel his calluses over your skin.

Then, as if a searing star itself break the atmosphere, you feel slightly chapped lips against yours, a tickle of stubble and- Is that a mustache?

Din grunts into your mouth, realizing you still have one hand wrapped around him. He moans, moving with your thrusts, his kiss devouring your gasps as you push at him, deepening it. His tongue traces yours and confidently moves in, effectively rendering your brain into a short-circuit. Your mind briefly wonders how such a reserved man has this much skill in kissing, he’s no virgin but surely he hasn't kissed anyone beside you. Then he bites at your lower lip before bringing you deeper again with a hand on your nape, and all hell breaks loose.

You growl into the kiss, basking in the whimper he lets out as your hand moves faster and thrust grows sloppier, but definitely still hitting that spot that makes Din scream. He pulls back, inhaling sharply when you bite lightly on his jaw, feeling the hair that decorate it. Oh you’d worship him just to see his debauched face without being blind, and the thought is enough to make you cum.

You feel yourself release inside Din’s warmth, making him shiver and let out a broken moan of your name. With your hand jerking him off, he follows suit, throwing his head back, painting his chest with strings of pearly cum. Once spent, he slumps into your embrace, helmet already in place and breathing raggedly next to your ear. You pry his hand off your eyes and press a kiss to the sliver of neck you could reach.

Blinking away the little dots from your eyes being closed and pressed by his hand, you slowly steady your breath as you rub circles on Dins pelicals and lower back, feeling him sigh and melt at your touch. You can't help to let out a chuckle, which earns you a questioning sound from your boyfriend.

“Nothing, just…” You smile, licking at your lips, trying to savor Din’s taste. “Best kiss I've ever had.”

That made him chuckle, nuzzling the cool helmet against the side of your neck. “Me too.”

Your smile widens, closing your eyes and simply letting the warmth of after-sex wafts through the cockpit. Speaking of which, you should probably clean up and sleep in the proper sleeping pod. The seat, plush as it is, won't do your back any good. So you reach for your scattered pants, looking for the fabric you always keep in your back pocket. When you finally find it, you shift Din a bit to clean up the mess that went up to both his and your chest, then carefully pull out of the man, making you groan as he shivers, wiping down what leaks out of him and the remaining lube around your length.

Standing up and making your way down takes another effort, but nothing you can't do for Din, sleepy and content Din in your arms. Pushing the button to open the sleeping pod, you set him down on the edge of it before handing him a bottle of water.

“Drink, love,” You grin, before busying yourself on the table where another water bottle is kept and downing it. You hear the hushed shh of Dins helmet as it’s being taken off, then the cap of the water bottle turning. You swallow another gulp of water, before flashes of earliers heated kiss shocks you and makes you choke on the water slightly. You cough, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand before closing the bottle and setting it back.

“You uh… Done?” You clear your throat.

“Yeah,” You nod, turning back to see Dins helmet back on and him extending his arm, returning the bottle to you. You set it on the table and push him back to lie down in the pod. It’s always been a tight fit with both you and your boyfriend sleeping in it, but you make do.

When the doors are shut and the lights turned off, another hiss of Dins helmet makes your heart thump harder, but he shifts to place it on a small compartment off to the side and lays his head on your chest, one arm around you. You hook your arm around him, the other playfully raking through his curls. You could tell just from how it coils around your fingers, Din practically purring into your touch like a Loth Cat. You grin, pressing a kiss to his forehead before shifting to get comfortably on the pillow.

“Good night, Din'ika,”

“Good night, Cyar’ika,”

Cyar'ika: Darling, beloved, sweetheart

Kar'ta: Heart

Mesh'la: beautiful

Requests are open!

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x male reader #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x you #lio writes #star wars fanfiction #x m!reader #x male reader #din djarin x m!reader

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jackieparty · 6 months ago

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top 10 favorite star wars characters atm

luke skywalker and ahsoka tano

cannot decide between literally me irl and my childhood favorite. also their relationships to anakin both kill me and thats whats at the heart of star wars, so i thought it would only be fair they tie (plus its my list, eat my ass)

2. hera syndulla

ghost crew mother turned military leader. she's one of the few female characters we get to see with high military status and we get to see her growth up to that position. she loses so much but she always keeps going because its whats right. also best pilot in the galaxy is hera syndulla argue with a wall

3. alexsandr kallus

BEST REDEMPTION ARC IN ALL OF STAR WARS FIGHT ME ON THIS SUCK MY DICK AND BALLS also he's voiced by david oyelowo and that man has such an attractive voice. i fully believe that the fandom would not have accepted kallus's redemption arc w any other va bc the subtlety david oyelowo puts into that performance is fucking insane

4. commander cody // cc-2224

favorite of the clones. to be fair he is everything that a clone is supposed to be which can be boring to some people, but i find it really interesting. his armor is by far my favorite armor in the show too which does contribute to him being up so high, sorry im a sucker for good character design

5. din djarin

father #1 on the list. pedro pascal bedroom voice, need i say more, but i will. hes such a morally gray character in the beginning but hes also so funny. bro asked luke skywalker if he was a jedi. din is the definition of main character who really wishes he wasn't one. also themes of religion and the intensity of different denominations of it is so interesting esp within star wars

6. hunter // cc-9901

father #2 on the list. his fighting style is one of my favorites in star wars, even though we mostly see that from him in his episodes in clone wars. also favorite clone design in terms of how he differentiates himself from the other clones aka not his armor

7. omega

child of father #2 on the list, but she's also so luke/ezra coded. she can make friends with everyone, including hounds, regardless of the shitty hand of cards she's been dealt. also she gambles and is a child which is hilarious

8. artoo

the character ever. if he were an organic being he would have the saddest story in star wars, besides obi-wan shhh. he's there for everything and even when c3po is reprogrammed to work for the empire during rebels, artoo isnt, showing how useful that lil mf is. also anyone that stands up to chopper is so brave in my book

9. torra doza (from resistance)

this is such a random pick, especially bc i dont really like the sequels and this show comes right before them, but i just remember her being such a good character. design again is a big thing in this, but she's also a super talented pilot which i love. she's optimistic and bubbly, which isnt my favorite thing in a character, but i like how she was done so she has to be on here. sorry i feel like nobody knows who she is

10. lando calrissian

is this bc donald glover plays young lando? uh....neways lando did NOTHING WRONG. he gave up han because he had to protect his people and he ultimately makes up for doing that anyways. also charismatic and so so so sexy (all versions of him) what an iconic star wars character

#star wars #star wars rebels #bad batch #star wars resistance #ahsoka series #ahsoka tano #luke skywalker #hera syndulla #alexsandr kallus #commander cody #hunter #omega #din dj #the mandalorian #torra doza #lando calrissian #artoo detoo #r2d2

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garden-bug · 2 years ago

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Can’t believe Thrawn is just vibing and these mfs are gonna show up in their stupid fancy ring hyper power ship with an entire enemies to lovers trope on board.

All I’m saying is, Thrawn, in the Star Wars equivalent of a Hawaiian shirt, is teaching Ezra Chiss martial arts on their exile planet. Ezra is making fun of him for being exiled twice. Lmaoooo everyone just hates you, Thrawn.

Thrawn’s expression changes to something almost pensive. HE REMEMBERS WHAG HE SAID TO ELI VANTO THAY ONE FUCKING TIME and he dunks his head in the sea bc he’s a silly idiot and he misses his bestie WHO HE WASNT BERY NICE TO NO NOT ONE BIT.

In Chiss land, Eli sneezes. No he’s not in Chiss land he’s out in the wilderness looking for Thrawn. All of Thrawn’s Ascendancy friends are there even Samakro. They have explorers hats and are adventuring through the jungle.

Idk what happens next. Sabine and Shin Hati kiss. Sabine realises she was never meant to be a Jedi bc she’s a mandalorian like duh.

Everyone finds Thrawn and Ezra at the exact same time. Thrawn and Ezra r like wtf then they all have a beach party because night sisters are allergic to sea water so Morgen straight up evaporates.

Ahsoka and Hera show up in the ghost with Jacen and Zeb and Kallus who brought a barbecue yipeee!

Luke Skywalker shows up with Din Djarin and Grogu searching for Grogu’s home planet.

Dinluke is real.

Somehow all the positive energy defeats the Grysks and they explode and die.

The end.

Sorry I’m not coping with the Ahsoka series very well. I love it but I am very afraid. Parts of it I don’t love. Ok I love that it’s funny as fuck to speculate about.

#Star Wars #ahsoka #Ahsoka series #thrawn #grand admiral thrawn #Star Wars fanfiction #what if #thranto #thrawn and Ezra space adventure #this is a genuinely serious prediction #Eli Vanto #thrawn ascendancy #dinluke

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ddejavvu · 2 years ago

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I’m a Star Wars virgin lol how would u recommend I watch the films? cause omfg that mf anakin is sexy but I don’t know where to start I wanted to watch it a few weeks ago in release date form but idk

Okay if you’re watching strictly movies (called episodes):

4 (a new hope) -> 5 (empire strikes back) -> 6 (return of the Jedi) -> 1 (phantom menace), -> 2 (attack of the clones) -> 3 (revenge of the sith) -> 7 (the force awakens) -> 8 (the last jedi) -> 9 (the rise of skywalker).

Those movies are the trilogies. The original trilogy (episodes 4,5,6), the prequel trilogy (episodes 1,2,3), and the sequel trilogy (episodes 7,8,9). I highly recommend at least the originals and the prequels. The sequel series gets a lot of complaints because of some questionable writing choices, but I still do enjoy them and the actors’ performances. Those trilogies are the core of the Star Wars fandom. They are the must-sees if you want to know what people are talking about.

If you’re focused on anakin specifically, he’s the center of the prequel trilogy and also appears in a show that I’ll talk about later. Do not skip straight to his movies, watch the original trilogy first, but you don’t have too many movies to get through before you meet him.

Other movies:

Solo is a movie about Han Solo’s younger years and it takes place before episode 4, but I recommend you watch it after you watch all three trilogies in that order, as it was released after Han’s main presence in the franchise (episodes 4, 5, and 6).

Rogue one is a move that takes place directly before episode 4, and I also recommend watching that after you finish the trilogies. One of the main characters in rogue one is Cassian Andor, and he has his own spin-off series, Andor (1 season), which takes place before rogue one.

Series:

If you do want to delve into series, there are a lot 😅 I’m only going to go over the ‘main/relevant’ ones (if your favorite isn’t on this list I’m not insulting it. I’m just trying not to overload newcomers with a thousand series that don’t matter to casual fans, and will most likely focus on the newer series. This isn’t meant to start an argument.) but let it be known that I like all of the series, I just think that they aren’t always essential to a basic knowledge of the franchise. This post isn’t written as a Bible, I’m not trying to put down every series or spin-off ever made, it’s a quick and easy guide.

All of these should be watched AFTER completing the trilogies.

Star Wars: The Clone Wars is a 7-season show that takes place between episodes 2 and 3 (the last 2 of the prequel trilogy). It is consistently regarded as a fan-favorite and it gives fantastic insight into the huge gap between those movies, and helps flesh out a lot of amazing characters (pssst… you like anakin already? he’s an MC ;) ). Seriously the show is like people’s favorite Star Wars Thing ever, so if you do end up moving on from the movies and you want to watch more content, I strongly recommend it.

Obi-Wan Kenobi is a one season series centered around Obi-Wan, a character that appears in the prequel trilogy and the original trilogy. Honestly I like the plot but I really fucking love it bc he’s one of my favorite characters and also anakin is in it so if you finish the trilogies and want more of him, I think you’d like Obi-Wan. It takes place between the prequel trilogy and the original trilogy, but closer to the end of episode 3.

The Mandalorian is a three season series that takes place after the original trilogy. Din Djarin (the mandalorian himself) appears in a few episodes of The Book of Boba Fett. This show gained enormous popularity because of both Pedro pascal’s role as the MC and how much of a phenomenon ‘baby yoda’ (grogu) became, so i would honestly recommend it so that you know what people are talking about if they mention it.

those are the series I most recommend.

The Book of Boba Fett is a one season series that centers around the bounty hunter Boba Fett, who’s main presence in the franchise is in episodes 5 and 6. However, he also appears in episode 2. A lot of people really like Boba Fett as well as Din’s appearances, so I am including this series on the list. However, I don’t really think you need to watch it unless you really like him or Din lmfao.

Ahsoka is one season, currently being released over a few weeks on Disney+, and centers around Ahsoka (Anakin’s former padawan, developed in the clone wars series I mentioned before, also in the mandalorian for a short time). I am behind and I haven’t watched the two episodes that have come out yet, so I don’t know if they’re good, but that series is what’s currently coming out, so I figured I’d mention it.

Once more if you’re a seasoned fan and I didn’t include your favorite media please don’t come at me, I know I left stuff out. Hardcore Star Wars fans are fucking cutthroat and I’m not citing these as the only series ever or the only series that matter, I’m just trying to help confused people navigate the overwhelming amount of content the franchise has to offer.

I hope this helps, even if you just want to watch the movies. I also hope I didn’t overwhelm you, I really did try to narrow stuff down!

#mei's mail

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