#din needs a hug

[thefrogdalorian]

I was watching Chapter 15: The Believer yesterday and something stood out to me that I guess I'd never really thought about before...

When the Juggernaut is getting attacked by the Pirates, we see several shots of Din struggling without his armour. It's a new way of fighting for him and he struggles to adapt at first.

He quickly rallies and skilfully fights them off, though. But more pirates soon appear and after fighting them off, Din is thrown backwards. He sees several pirates approaching.

Din lies down in defeat, powerless to fight them off without his armour or weapons. Knowing his death is likely imminent, without hope of survival.

Instead of giving up and accepting defeat, he does not allow himself to wallow in despair and mystery. After sighing deeply he steadies himself and gets right back up:

Facing down death as the pirates approach, he does not show weakness or fear.

He doesn't allow himself to be cowardly, or dwell on his likely impending doom and the fact he has failed in his quest to rescue the child he loves so much...

Instead, Din stands there with his fists up, outnumbered and without weapons, prepared to fight to the end even in the face of certain death...

Fortunately, of course, the TIE Fighters appear to save the day and Din succeeds in his quest to rescue Grogu and, well, you know the rest.

But I think this little moment in one of the best episodes is such a good insight into his character.

Standing up with his fists clenched like that, outnumbered and hopeless but refusing to accept defeat is perhaps one of the most Mandalorian things he's ever done. Yet only a few minutes later he removes his helmet and that act leaves him rendered an apostate in the eyes of his people. Told he is a Mandalorian no more, even.

It's kind of heartbreaking because he really did not deserve to be told that. Mandalorians are proud warriors, who never give up. Being a coward is the worst insult in Mando'a, their ancient language. Here, Din showed that he is nothing of the sort.

Din Djarin is as honourable a Mandalorian as they come.

[stardustrebels]

Fathoms Beyond- Chapter 3: Faults, Recursive

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader Rating: 18+ / MDNI WC: 7.8k Series Masterlist | Blog Masterlist Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

A/N: This is a follow-on fic from Fathoms Between (my WTTS one shot fic). It’s been a while, but here I am, here this is! There are some notes under the chapter, just for some extra info and to save you a Wookiepedia search and to explain a few extra things. The hunt is on and I hope you enjoy it! Comments, reblogs and replies are always welcome, and as always, thank you from the bottom of my heart for being here and reading my fics, it means more to me than you will ever know ;) 

Tags/ Warnings: Angst, tension, slow burn, hurt/comfort, (slight) emotional whump, mild peril, in-world weapons, mentions of past violence (not in detail), found family, Din Djarin needs a hug, Din Djarin is bad at feelings until he isn't, heavy is the head that wears the helmet, post-season 2 (The Mandalorian), canon-divergent, Razor Crest never gets destroyed but Din does have the Darksaber.

Taglist: @djarins-cyare , @i-say-choco-you-say-ice-cream

If you’d like to be added to or removed from this taglist, please let me know!

Dividers by: @saradika-graphics

Kesh was paid too much to make mistakes. 

The trees blurred as she weaved through the underbrush, boots light and sure against the jagged rocks and roots underfoot. Her quarry had slipped away. The fist that she had closed in around him hadn’t been quite tight enough. He’d evaded her twice now. Once was bad enough but a second time? Well, that had never happened before. She blamed it on the extenuating circumstances.

The Mandalorian had been a surprise— they were rare these days. She hadn’t expected the quarry to have picked up a little friend, either. But based on his history it hadn’t been too much of a shock when she’d watched him knock you down with a blaster bolt to save his own skin. 

He was a coward, her employer had said, but a wily one. 

He had so many names it had been difficult to track him down at first. His most recent alias, Jarek, wasn’t listed on any of the bounty information she’d been given, but she’d heard through her contacts that a man matching his description was setting meetings on Vath, and figured there’d be no harm in trying to arrange one for herself, posing as a buyer. 

It would’ve been laughable if it weren’t so frustrating how fast he had bolted the second she’d uttered his real name, one that he probably hadn’t heard in a long time. She hadn’t had time to blink let alone clasp the binders around his wrists. She’d pursued him, but he’d used his knowledge of the landscape against her and managed to slink away into the fading daylight. If she hadn’t been hunting him for so long, she might have been impressed. 

As she approached her ship without the bounty in tow, for the second time in less than a standard day, the silence felt like a personal affront; a mockery she refused to believe was anything but temporary. She pushed the sensation aside, foreign as it was. Anger didn’t serve her, and besides, she couldn’t afford to let anything else get in the way. 

The tattoos that marked her green skin tightened at the corners of her eyes as she frowned, something she’d only ever allow herself to do when she was alone. She slipped into the cockpit, slid into the pilot’s chair and took a deep, heavy breath, fingers flying over the console to read the ping linked to the fob she’d been given. The signal was weak, the beeps few and far between. He was gone— already jumped to hyperspace. She didn’t blame him. 

Kesh leaned back in her chair, exhaling through her nose. She’d have to keep digging this guy out the old fashioned way. It was fine, she told herself. She still had time and no one had to know. Especially not her employer. 

She figured she’d start back at the hangar to see if anything useful had been left behind. The hum of modified engines faded to silence as she landed, and she slipped from the ship and toward the hangar, every step deliberate and precise.  Scanning for any sign of the Mandalorian or you.

She found neither. 

Where Jarek had blasted you at close range, only disturbed dirt remained in a halo around the glint of something metallic. 

A comlink, half-buried in the dust where it had been dropped. Left to make it look like you never moved. Kesh crouched beside it, a frown coming to rest across her brow as her eyes flicked over marks on the floor— scrapes and half-obscured footprints. Two sets. 

She traced the first— bigger, heavier, steady. The armour-weighted steps of a Mandalorian. The second set, lighter and irregular and dragging slightly, belonging to someone injured but independently mobile— frustration etched in to every staggered, scraping footprint. The lack of any blood suggested the bolt hadn’t even broken skin. Armoured then. Kesh straightened, a thin curving smile touching her lips. Distrust all the way down.

She followed the tracks with growing interest, out of the hangar and toward the tree line, winding through the dirt before vanishing in to the brush. She didn’t need to see any more. She already knew where they were headed. 

She turned back to the ship, pace brisk, and set a course back to Vath’s main port. She guessed you knew Jarek’s escape plan, at least some of it. That’s why he shot you. Maybe you’d vowed to find him and make him pay— but your anger made you sloppy. Now that Kesh had a trail to follow, she just had to get to Jarek before anyone else did.

You loathed the sound of the Crest’s thrusters— old even the last time you boarded, and clearly not replaced since. The drone of them rumbled through you. If your teeth hadn’t been clenched, they’d be rattling. 

Absence hadn’t made your heart grow fonder, and your hatred for this ship had not eased when you stepped aboard. It smelled like old carbon, so burnt in that a faint whiff would remain no matter how hard you scrubbed it. Otherwise, it was utilitarian. Soulless metal, with no hint of warmth or personality. Haunted by ghosts of bounties that didn’t know how to let go. Jarek could soon be one of them. 

The puck glowed in your hand, lighting your features in a stuttering strobe. Jarek’s face hovered in the air, and the harder you looked, the more the smirk on his face seemed to twist with each flicker of the holograph. 

You scanned the charges again. Some were familiar— fraud, forgery, HoloNet hacking. You’d even done a few of those together. But others twisted your stomach: exploitation, trafficking. Murder. The words bled off the puck in cold, sterile blue, and no matter how many times you read them, they didn’t make sense— like they’d been written about someone else. 

Until now, it had all seemed harmless; you were just taking what you were owed — carving out something for yourself in a brutal, merciless galaxy. The people you swindled could afford it, the crimes were victimless. At least that’s what he had said when you’d asked.

You dropped the puck in your lap and pressed your palms to your eyes, stopping the tears before they fell; until sparks bloomed behind your lids. Jarek had burned the bridge behind him while you were still on it. You winced as you wondered how many people he’d done it to before.

The thought had spun round and round in your mind on the journey through the forest back to the Crest. You’d avoided the main path and snuck in through the tree line at the edge of the port. Mando said he’d paid the port fees in full when he’d landed, so you were free to go. You both hurried on to the ship, instep so that you’d be hidden behind Mando’s frame as you walked. 

Once aboard with the gangplank locked, you’d explained the Tetherline protocol details to Mando like you were rattling off a parts list. Clean, detached, as if it didn’t scrape your insides raw to say it out loud. 

“Strings of planets— knots in a net across the galaxy,” you’d said, fingers stretching in the air to illustrate, pacing a familiar figure of eight across the hull. “Each one a fallback. A safe house, a cache, sometimes contacts. We set them all up while we travelled. If things ever went sideways, there wasn’t a concrete plan past the first knot to switch ships. That planet never changed: Socorro.”

The Mandalorian stood silent by the cockpit ladder, arms crossed, watching as you paced. 

“If he thinks I’m dead,” you said, voice sharp, “he’ll go there. The knots are solid. After the first one, he’s untraceable. I guess that’s why he decided I was… disposable.” 

Mando huffed but didn’t move.

“How long did you travel with him?”  “A while,” you replied, looking away from him and to the floor of the hull, the next words catching on your tongue, as if it knew they were forbidden. “Since Lothal.” 

Silence thickened until your pulse filled your ears. The regurgitated hurt clawed at your chest, wild and demanding— desperate to be acknowledged and fighting to break free. 

You chanced a look at him and wondered if there were any emotions swirling under all that metal. If he had anything to say for himself, now that you had brought it up. If he would give his excuses for abandoning you all those years ago now, in person. If he would apologise. 

“You’re lucky there isn’t a puck with your name on it.” Was all he said. 

Your heart stuttered and you took a breath that was just a touch too shallow to be a gasp. Anger trailed the exhale, twisting with the whip of air around your lungs, making your chest tight and your pulse race. You clenched your hands into fists to stop them shaking. You’d have slapped him if it wouldn’t hurt you more. 

“Wow,” You said, soft enough to sound dangerous. “You know what? You’re right. I’m so lucky. It was definitely luck that helped me out of that medbay I was dumped in on a strange planet. And it was probably luck that magically fixed the ship I left that planet in and kept me alive all those cycles, trailing the galaxy with the wanted criminal who let me think I was family.”

A scoff of incredulity left your throat when he shifted and his crossed arms tightened across his chest. 

“But you know what, Mando?” You watched as his helmet moved almost imperceptibly at his moniker from your lips. You knew it must have hurt. You wanted it to. “All that luck must have messed with my mind and scrambled my memories because I forgot—you’ve always been such a fine, upstanding law-abiding citizen, haven’t you? The galaxy’s most honourable bounty hunter.” 

He had the decency to look outwardly uncomfortable; his shoulders dropped half an inch like he’d been knocked and his arms fell to his sides, but it barely cooled your fury. You stared into his visor, daring him to argue, and for a second you thought he might. He stared right back, fists clenched, thumbs rubbing against the knuckles of his tucked index fingers. 

But then he straightened, gloves creaking as he unfurled his fists and flexed his hands before stilling. Factory reset, you mused with scorn. 

There was a time where his ability to remain calm was endearing, had drawn you to him. He was a man who didn’t need anger to be powerful or intimidating, and he favoured logic over emotion. All it did now was make you angrier. You let a sneer settle on your features, just to see if it would goad him. It didn’t, and the silence between you was broken only by your slow, controlled breaths for several drawn out seconds. 

“I’ll set a course for Socorro,” he muttered, before he turned to climb the ladder, disappearing up into the cockpit. You didn’t stop scowling until the last inch of his cloak was out of view. 

The Razor Crest had lifted with a groan of protest a few moments later, the rumble of the thrusters  vibrating your spine, masking your shakiness. You’d dropped to the floor and tucked yourself as close to the durasteel wall as possible, legs drawn up, head tilted back against the metal; deep, measured breaths the only thing stopping sobs from wracking your body.   

Perhaps you’d imagined the level of affection that Mando carried for you, the trace of fear in his voice when he was begging you to stay conscious and your blood soaked his bare fingertips. Maybe the detachment in his voice hadn’t been forced at all— just something you wanted to hear. 

You forced the stabbing in your chest to dissipate with your breaths; heartache from memories was not something you had time for, but the words echoed in your mind before you could stop them: 

“You’ll be safer here on your own than you ever were with me. I’m sorry. Take care of yourself.” 

You could have recited the message word for word, even now. You listened to it more times than you could count from your bed during your remaining time in the med centre, mustering up the courage to delete it and move on; reluctant to accept that it was the last time you’d ever hear his voice.

You’d done exactly what he’d said: taken care of yourself. And up until he appeared again, you’d been doing just fine, despite everything that had happened since Lothal being the fallout of decisions he’d made on your behalf. 

He’d loaded the blaster and left you to pull the trigger. Alone, on a strange planet far from anything familiar. He arranged for you to work at the salvage yard where you’d met Jarek. He may have even spoken to Jarek back then. Stars, he might as well have introduced you both to one another and sped up the process. You scoffed and glared through the metal above you, hoping he could feel it through the floor of the cockpit. 

Mando was ruthless and cold; an emotionally stunted man who killed people for money and had made it quite clear years ago that he was done with you. All you wanted was to be done with him. He wasn’t going to apologise, you knew that now. If all he could offer you was sanctimonious judgement and temporary transport, then fine. You were done expecting anything more.

The bounty puck in your pocket sat heavy against your leg. You reached in and pulled it out, keen to have something to focus on, even if it was Jarek’s face. 

Your barbed words to Mando hadn’t been a lie. For all the wreckage you had now, your time with Jarek had once been bountiful; financially and emotionally. He had been like a second father to you, and the crew you’d helped build on Vath— as scrappy and rag-tag as it was— had been a kind of family. You worked with them to build a safe haven, a place for people who had nowhere else to go. The strange, grubby little outpost had become home. 

It had only solidified further when Ramus arrived. 

He’d been quick to befriend you— solid in more than just stature. Reliable, principled, and trustworthy, to people he liked anyway. You’d always suspected he wanted more than friendship. You’d considered it once or twice after a couple of glasses of spotchka, but the thought never settled right. He was like a brother to you.  

Within a couple of months, Ramus had proven himself tenfold. Jarek named him his right hand and no one questioned it. You’d even joked that Ramus’ sheer presence was enough to keep half the crew in line— his glare more effective than most blasters.  

Now, your stomach twisted at the thought of him. Ramus would think that you’d left with Jarek. That you’d lied.

You could picture the heartbreak in his eyes, his outrage at the betrayal. You couldn’t even begrudge him for it. After your conversation at the market, it looked exactly like that. Like you’d disappeared at the first sign of trouble. 

And the worst part? That had been the plan. You were about to do it— follow Jarek again with no hesitation. Leave everyone behind. Abandon the people who had earned your loyalty for a man who never deserved it. 

The thought made you want to vomit. 

You’d only meant to rest your eyes— fighting off the exhaustion, nausea and pain that had been warring inside you for hours. You blinked through murky darkness at a figure hovering above you. 

“Hey.” 

Spoken so quietly you were sure it was part of a dream. You jerked upright, muscles screaming after too long pressed in to cold durasteel. Mando was crouched near you, arm awkwardly outstretched, like he’d been figuring out how best to wake you without touching. He rose as soon as you sat up.

“We’re an hour out and we need a plan,” he said. If he held any residual anger after earlier, it didn’t come through. The edge in his voice was gone, dissipated out in to the void of hyperspace after hours of travelling in silence. Maybe he’d slept too. 

You swallowed, the dryness in your throat making you wince, and shifted to stand. A gloved hand appeared in front of your face and, when you hesitated, his fingers twitched in a silent offer. 

The memory of something similar rose, unbidden, from years ago and half a galaxy away. The press of his body close to yours in the cockpit. The heat in your belly and prickle across your skin at the thought of being even closer. It felt foreign to you now; naïve in a way that made you ashamed. You ignored the twinge in your stomach at the thought of it. Whatever you’d once hoped could have been between the two of you was long gone— dead before it had a chance to breathe. 

You considered swatting his hand away; refusing the peace offering in the only way he seemed to know how to give one: silently. But you still needed him, as much as it pained you to admit it. You needed his ship, his hunting skills and resources to find Jarek. It was his bounty; with a puck and a fob, and without them you’d get nowhere. So you accepted, as you had once before, and allowed him to haul you to your feet. 

You snatched your hand from his as soon as you were upright. The memory stung, but his gentleness right now hurt more, because you knew it was intentional. A non-apology. You bit back the urge to scoff. At him, at yourself, at the absurdity of the whole kriffing situation, but if he could play nice, then you could too. 

Mando seemed satisfied in your acceptance of his abrupt and unofficial parley and, in what seemed to be an extension of it, gestured that you should speak first in regards to the plan. 

“Okay. Here’s what I know— Jarek will swap the ship,” you started, putting some distance between the two of you as you spoke. “The shipyard we agreed on is on the outskirts of Vakeyya. An exchange means no wasted credits, and they’re unlikely to ask too many questions.” 

You waited for his input, but it never came. He seemed oddly content to stay silent, listen and nod. To let you take the lead. A continuation of the peace offering, you figured, so you carried on. 

By the time you landed, you’d almost convinced yourself the plan might actually work.

Socorro greeted you with dust, heat and a sky like the center of a flame— yellow and white, with patches of thin cloud streaked uselessly across it. You’d barely stepped off the ramp before the desert wind slapped your cheeks raw and scratched at your eyes. The Crest let out a groan of relief as she settled against the elements, as if the ordeal of landing had offended her. 

You were sweating before your feet touched the ground. You’d changed clothes after agreeing on a plan, but were bound by what you’d packed in your haste to leave Vath, which proved to be less than ideal, and the armourweave beneath it added a layer you couldn't be without, even if it was adding to the heat settling on your skin. You decided that it would also be wise to cover your face, and found a small faded teal blanket tucked away in a crate in the hull to use as a head covering. You didn’t think Jarek would still be hanging around, but didn’t want to risk being seen if he was. The end result of your quick change was stifling, and hopelessly unsuited to the heat. You had no idea how Mando was coping underneath beskar-topped layers, but his shiny exterior looked as unbothered as ever. 

Vakeyya’s outskirts weren’t exactly welcoming. The city’s buildings jutted out from the earth, propped up by rusted scaffolding, stitched together with corroded gantries and buckling catwalks that creaked in the heat. Most of the signage was broken— flickering half-lit words that buzzed overhead like dying insects. The rest had been tagged over in paint or melted through with blaster fire. The air reeked of scorched metal, fuel and whatever passed for food in the vendor stalls lining the narrow alleyways. A dusty haze hung low over the streets, kicked up by swoop bikes as they passed, the grit settling between your eyelashes and on the crests of your cheeks, on the only parts of your face that were exposed through the fabric around your head. 

On a rooftop nearby, a group of kids watched the streets below, bare feet dirty and legs dangling as they spat seeds at passing workers and shrieked insults in dialects you didn’t recognise. The place hadn’t changed. Not one bit.

You pulled the fabric closer to your face and kept your head down as you moved. The walk to the hangar was short, but through the bustle of the city outskirts around you the air felt tight and stifling. Mando had peeled off down a side street moments after you’d left the Crest, melting into the shadows without a word, just like you’d agreed.

You stepped through the hangar entrance with as much confidence as you could muster, and scrambled for the audacity to fake the rest. Through the doors at the other end of the building, facing out in to the yard, you spotted the ship— right where he’d left her, dumped without sentiment or ceremony. The sight made your chest pinch.

The foreman looked up from his datapad. A large man with pale blue skin, and yellow eyes, with striking white hair that contrasted against his grease-stained jumpsuit.  

“Good day,” you drawled in an accent you’d heard Jarek use so many times it formed in your mouth unprompted. “I’m in need of a ship.” 

The man flashed you a bright smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Well you’ve come to the right place. Let me give you the grand tour.”

You let him guide you around a couple of large, expensive vessels, answering his questions with vague answers in a haughty tone, and tried not to look too obvious when you pointed at the ‘cute little thing in the middle, there’ and asked to look inside. 

The ship was the same as ever. It smelled of oil and something faintly floral that had no business lingering— a scent that must have clung to the upholstery from years ago. You stepped over the threshold, stumbling deliberately to stave off any inclination that you could walk around this ship with your eyes closed. 

Flown hard, dirt-streaked and weary, with Jarek’s escape adding to the cycles it had spent in that dusty hangar on Vath, it was in need of more than a little TLC. The nav console still blinked, casting a greenish hue against the grimy walls. 

“She’s a little banged up,” you said, letting your fingers drift across the edge of the cockpit in a silent hello masked with feigned disinterest. “But charming. I like a bit of character.” 

The foreman gave a bark of a laugh. “She’s got that alright. Just dropped off a few hours ago— still warm. Hasn’t even been cleaned out yet.” He smacked one hand on the bulkhead and it took everything within you not to wince. “Most folks leave a mess, especially when they’re in a rush.” 

“Oh?” You tilted your head, turning to him with mock curiosity. “They were in a rush? Why?” 

He shrugged, glancing down at the datapad again. “Couldn’t say. Trade-in went through fast, no questions asked. We get all types out here.” 

You smiled, all teeth and false warmth. “Well, I, for one, like to take my time. Could you show me her features? Systems, storage, nav capabilities?” 

The man mirrored your smile and stepped forward to begin his over-enthusiastic pitch. As he spoke, you asked questions that would direct him toward the console, nodding like you were following along, and asking for a demonstration of every feature he listed off. Then, just as you’d hoped, eventually he set the data pad down to gesture at the controls with both hands and you pressed the call button of the prepped comlink in your pocket. 

You were forcing nods while he explained the engine size ‘in easy terms— to help you understand’, before he was interrupted by a shout from outside, followed by the sound of something metallic scraping against the earth.

The foreman’s head snapped toward the noise. “Kriffing dockers, can’t do anything right,” he muttered. He was halfway to the ramp before there was another gut-churning bang, followed by a shriek. 

“I am so sorry,” he said quickly “I’d better check that. Feel free to look around!” Without a backwards glance, he was gone. 

You turned and snatched up the data pad. It was unlocked, the recent entries blinking at you from the screen. Your fingers flew, half expecting to hear boots on the ramp before you were done. It took you seconds to pull up the latest transaction— filed under an alias you recognised. One of Jarek’s old standbys: one reserved for emergencies. 

You scanned fast. 

All the information you needed was there. He’d traded in for an old one-man scout ship, a Pathfinder-class, fuelled at 54% less than two hours ago. The only other information logged was the transponder code. There was a flicker in your chest— panic, then a thrill. You weren’t as far behind him as you thought. If he hadn’t changed the code, then he was still catchable. 

You muttered the numbers under your breath a few times to memorise them, dropped the data pad back where the foreman had placed it, and made to leave. You knew you couldn’t linger long— Mando’s distraction hadn’t bought you that much time— but you couldn’t help one last glance around. 

Despite everything Jarek had done, there were memories woven right down to the rivets of this ship. If he hadn’t stolen every credit you owned, you might have even bought the damn thing. You sighed bitterly and turned to go, but something caught your eye as you did. Slouched against a couple of small crates, half-hidden by an overturned cot mattress, was a bag. Your bag. 

The go-bag you’d stashed here years ago, packed with emergency credits, clothes, a datapuck of old safe houses and no doubt other incriminating items. It looked like he hadn’t even bothered to rummage through it. You didn’t let yourself think about it too hard, just grabbed the bag, slung it over your shoulder and darted from the ship before sentimentality could sink its claws in any further.

You spotted Mando before he noticed you. He was hard to miss, leaning against the shaded frame of the supply shop, just a few streets down from the hangar. It was the meeting spot you’d agreed on. Arms folded, helmet tipped just enough to keep the sun off the visor, his beskar gleamed in spots where the shade missed it, flaring when he shifted as you approached. 

He nodded at the bag slung over your shoulder. “Thought you didn’t have any credits?”

You snorted. “Re-procured it from the ship. Jarek didn’t bother to take it.” 

“What’s in it?” He asked. 

“I didn’t have time to look,” you shrugged, “Can’t remember.” 

He considered you a moment longer before turning toward the store. You followed him in, instantly grateful for the grimy air-cooling unit wheezing away in the back corner. 

The shop was empty of any other patrons— a Mandalorian standing at the door will have that effect— but was full to the brim with supplies. Ration packs, dry goods, a selection of unfamiliar fresh produce, and what you supposed might have been souvenirs, although why anyone would choose to vacation on Vakeyya was a mystery to you. 

Mando picked up some essentials but you lost interest in following him after the first couple of items. You’d have waited for him outside, but were drawn further in to the cool air, browsing at the items that lined the walls as you stepped toward the unit, the air making your eyes water as you neared. Something shiny caught your eye in a basket of fabric next to it— scarves in every colour, with metallic threads woven through. They glinted in the sunlight pouring through a skylight above and pooled like rain in oil. You picked the darkest scarf out of the pile and ran it through your fingers, eyes dancing over the silver woven through navy blue fabric. You didn’t even notice Mando was behind you until he was plucking the scarf from your hands without a word. He balanced it atop the supplies gathered in one arm. You opened your mouth to object, but he was already at the counter, handing over the credits to pay.

The hot air hit your lungs the second you stepped outside, even more suffocating than it had been before. The only thing winning over the urge to turn back toward the cool air behind you was curiosity at the Mandalorian’s behaviour. He stopped just shy of the edge of the awning and turned to hand you the scarf.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you said, taking it from him. “Thank you.” 

He stepped closer, and lifted his free hand to the teal fabric draped against your collarbone and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. 

“This is too heavy to be a head scarf,” he said simply. “It’s a blanket. Made to keep a baby warm.” 

Your stomach dropped, and you waited for him to explain further, but his hand had already moved to the strap on your shoulder, slipping the bag from it with ease. You watched as he tucked the supplies he’d bought in to it; caf, ration packs and a couple of bars of soap, unable to fully process what he’d just said.

“A baby?” 

He nodded, but didn’t elaborate. Why would he have a baby blanket on the Crest? Had there been a baby in there? Was it his? Where was that baby now? Your frown deepened as you squinted in to the sun, his silence making it clear that any further questions would go unanswered. 

“I can carry that,” you said, reaching out to take the bag back from him. 

He shrugged it on to his shoulder without looking at you. “I’ve got it.” 

You were too hot to waste energy on arguing, so you sighed and folded your new scarf up as small as it could go before tucking it in to your pocket. 

He tilted his helmet toward the street. “We should head back to the ship separately— It’ll draw less attention.” 

Still catching up with the last few minutes, you nodded automatically, but stopped when you realised what he’d said. A jab of panic ran through you at the thought of reaching the ship second, at being left behind on a whim, but you realised that Mando had no idea where he was going. He needed you and the transponder code you’d found if he had any hope of catching Jarek. 

“Alright,” you managed. “See you back there.” 

The sun caught his pauldrons as he turned, sparking off the beskar like a flare. You blinked after him, swaying a little in the heat. The sun felt more brutal than before as you stepped in to it and walked in the opposite direction. 

It was hotter inside the Crest than it had any right to be, given that Mando had left the cooling system running while you were out. You snatched the fabric from your head and wiped residual sweat from your hairline with the back of your sleeve. Your skin felt burnt and raw; dusty grit clung to every part of you that had been exposed to the elements and stung as you rubbed. You’d never envied Mando’s helmet before, but right now, it had to be better than this. 

He’d beaten you back. When you stepped aboard, he was leaning against the side of the carbonite unit, waiting. You barely had time to gulp down some water before he turned and climbed the ladder to the cockpit, clearly expecting you to follow. You paused at the top, hand hovering against the seal of the cockpit door, feet refusing to take you any further. 

If Mando noticed your hesitation, he didn’t show it. He began the pre-flight checks immediately, flicking switches around him rapidly, before bringing up the transponder tracker on the screen in the center of the console and waiting expectantly. You took a deep inhale and forced yourself over the threshold. Time was of the essence, and you couldn’t let long-buried emotions get in the way of missing your only chance to catch the bounty.  

You leaned over, skimming past his arm to input the numbers you’d memorised, ignoring the tremble in your fingers as you did. The screen blinked and beeped. Once. Twice. Then locked on. 

There it was: Jarek’s new ship, just as it had looked on the foreman’s data pad. 

You let out a breath, face cracking in to a smile, a weight lifting off your shoulders in real time. 

Mando turned, his visor fixed on the blinking marker. Then, quietly. 

“You did good.” 

His voice barely carried over the hum as the engines booted up and the Crest began to hover, but the words hit you like a punch to the gut. Your stomach swooped with pride and the smile only faltered a little when you looked over at him. It had been so long since you’d associated the sight of him with anything remotely positive and you didn’t know where to place the sensation. It swelled and shifted around your chest and down your arms followed by a shiver of coolness. It rushed over you and made your skin tingle. 

Before you could say anything, the ship rocked violently. 

The blast hit the hull with a shriek, jolting you in to the wall. You had no time to straighten up before there was another hit. It threw you sideways and your shoulder slammed in to the bulkhead as you scrambled to steady yourself.

Mando was already moving, hands flying over the controls as the Crest groaned and stuttered as he urged it in to the air and turned the guns to try to shoot back, but the other ship was too fast to lock on to. The lights flickered and the panel beneath the console sparked with a hiss that dropped your stomach in to your boots. 

“Hang on to something!” He shouted over the alarms.

You obeyed without question, diving for the straps of the restraint belts of the co-pilot’s chair just as another blast skimmed the ship’s port side. Whoever was shooting at you was precise; they were trying to take out the engines. 

You stretched, trying to get a glimpse of the attacking ship out of the cockpit window, but the sun’s glare and the smoke from the impact made it nearly impossible. Mando barked a curse and yanked the controls back. The ship bucked in protest, throwing your balance off again. 

The attacking ship flickered in to view for half a second— sleek, dark, smaller than the Crest but bristling with firepower. It peeled away and banked sharply before circling back around. Another shot rocked the ship, closer this time.

“They’re gonna come around again,” you warned, squinting through the haze. “We’re too slow, they’ve got—”

“I know,” Mando snapped, wrenching the Crest up and through the atmosphere as fast as it could go. The ship pitched, and you slammed into the cockpit door, landing hard on your side. You’d barely pulled yourself up into the chair again before Mando keyed in a string of coordinates on the nav console with one hand, the other gripping the throttle with white-knuckled force. 

The stars outside the viewport stretched as the drive began to spool. Your stomach plummeted; there was just enough time to fasten the belt buckles around you before the jump to hyperspace.

The alarms cut out, leaving an eerie silence that made your ears ring. The warning lights flashed less urgently and you blinked in to the blue tunnel of stars ahead, chest heaving with the effort of taking a breath.

Mando exhaled and unclenched his fingers from around the controls, flexing them out with a groan. He turned to you, his helmet bobbing up and down as he looked you over for injury. Once satisfied, he turned back to the console, brought up the ship’s diagnostics on the screen and scanned them with a sigh. 

“We’ll need to find somewhere to land,” he said, “patch up some of this damage and move on quickly.”

You nodded, still breathless. The diagnostics screen bathed the cockpit in shifting colours through the streaks of blue— reds and yellows pulsed off your features as you unbuckled and stood on shaky legs. You did a body scan for injuries that Mando could’t see, but aside from throbs through some residual bruising along your ribs from where you were shot, you were alright. 

“Who was that?” You asked, resting a hand on the back of the pilot’s chair, leaning in to get a better look at the screen over Mando’s shoulder. 

“Best bet? Another bounty hunter,” he replied, flipping switches to reroute power to the engines. “Maybe the one from the hangar on Vath. Following us to get to Jarek.” 

You didn’t reply, already cataloguing the damage. It was manageable, and you could fix it. You said as much before you headed for the door, keen to be in a bigger space with more air and less Mando. 

The air outside the cockpit was cooler, but offered no relief. The door whooshed shut behind you, stirring a few loose strands of hair across your face. You swiped them away and pressed your fingertips to your aching temples, before taking a deep breath and shaking out your limbs. 

If Mando had any objections to you fixing the ship he’d had plenty of time to voice them by the time you felt steady enough to move down to the hull, but he hadn’t appeared. You were keen to have something to do, for the distraction. To lose yourself in the logic of parts and wires, and try not to think about the fact that two people had tried to kill you in as many days.  

You headed to the maintenance alcoves tucked behind the cargo hold, wondering what kinds of tools Mando had stored there these days. You pushed aside the twinge of sadness at the thought of the tools you had abandoned in your workshop on Vath, and how useful it would be to have had them to hand. The hum of hyperspace pulsed through your feet as you crouched and popped open the compartments until you found something useful. The hinges squealed, reluctant from disuse. 

Your throat went tight at what you found inside the second to last one. Your old tools, exactly where you’d left them. No more worn than the last time you’d used them all those cycles ago. You hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t sold them. Hadn’t moved them. It looked like he hadn’t even touched them. 

You ran your fingers along the edge of the crate fighting back a smile, then pulled it out with a grunt, cradling it under your arm as you headed back toward the engine panelling to wait for the ship to land so you could get to work. 

You’d landed on soft ground, the scent of loam rising with the grass under the Crest’s belly, but your feet never touched it and you barely noticed. There was work to do. 

Fixing the Crest was like slipping on an old jacket— one you’d sworn you’d outgrown, only to find yourself shrugging into again, just in case it still fit. There was a comfort in it, hidden beneath emotions churned closer to the surface. You’d told yourself you hated this ship, but it really hadn’t done anything to you. It was just a hunk of metal, carrying the weight of emotions you’d assigned to it.

The work was meditative— it always was for you, and you needed it now more than ever. You popped the engine access panel and got to work, hands moving with the confidence of muscle memory. Three fuses were blown— too much feedback from the hit. You rerouted the power manually and checked the secondary coolant line while you were in there. Two burns, one crack. Easily fixable. Just as you’d thought. 

From your spot on the side of the ship, you spotted Mando completing another slow lap below. Whether he was scanning for damage or pretending not to be checking up on your work, you were unsure. You could tell he was shaken by the attack, caught off guard by the suddenness of it. He’d never admit it to you, but it was becoming clear that this hunt was not what he expected. Jarek was proving to be difficult to catch, and as far as you knew, Mando wasn’t entirely used to that.

He kept his distance, as he had since you’d landed, but you could feel his presence no matter how much he pretended not to hover. You figured his continued silence was part of the ongoing ‘apology’. In his skewed view of connection, lots of small actions were somehow equitable to words. They weren’t, but you figured you weren’t going to be around long enough for him to understand that. 

Once you caught Jarek, you’d leave again. For good, this time. 

You ignored the traitorous twang of disappointment the thought stirred in your chest. 

You moved to the cockpit, datapad in hand, and dropped to your knees by the console. The panel beneath it creaked open and you slid under, syncing your adjustments with the rerouted systems at the back of the ship, glad Mando was still outside— probably assessing your handiwork up close now that you were out of sight. 

When it was time to close up, your fingers brushed against something rough on the underside of the panel. Your brows drew together. 

Etchings, haloed in carbon— crude lines burned into the durasteel by an unsteady hand. You ran your fingers over them, tracing unfamiliar angles. You’d never seen anything like them before, but they looked old—ancient, even. Scored in metal, when they would’ve been more comfortable in stone. 

A sharp beep rang from the console above you, cutting through the quiet: an incoming transmission. You swore under your breath and secured the panel, rising to your knees to hit the intercom button next to the pilot’s chair. 

“Message coming through for you,” you said in to the receiver. 

You sank back down, confirming the final systems check, scanning the datapad. Everything read green. Mando appeared a minute later. You didn’t look up as he entered, just stood and passed him the pad. 

“Good to go when you are,” you said, brushing past him toward the exit, keen to spend the rest of the journey literally anywhere else. 

You nearly made it to the door when his voice stopped you. 

“I should never have left you on Lothal.” 

You weren’t sure if you’d misheard him, although there weren’t many other things you could have mistaken those words for. They hit you like a stun blast and you froze, a chill climbing your spine at the same time as your stomach plummeted to your feet as if the floor had given way to an abyss. Your hand hovered above the door release, fingers curled and trembling. You didn’t bother to hide it. 

You turned your head, just enough to catch him in the reflection of the transparisteel to your right. He sat, datapad in hand, visor tilted at his boots, shoulders moving like he was struggling to breathe too. He looked drawn. Tense in a way you’d never seen before, even through the reflection. You heart thudded so hard it made your ribs ache. When he spoke again you jumped; you weren’t expecting him to say any more. 

“I knew leaving would hurt you. And I did it anyway.” 

Your throat tightened and it felt as though your chest had caved in around your lungs. It would have hurt less for the air to have been sucked out in a vacuum. 

You’d imagined a thousand versions of this moment. None of them had felt like this. In a million years you could never have dreamed that you’d ever get a full, heartfelt apology from this man. You didn’t think he was capable of it. You turned away, unable to look any longer. 

“I’m sorry,” he said. 

The words were quiet and pained, like they had been scraped out of him—carved out of a layer far under the beskar that had no business being exposed. A layer you’d never seen before. One that made him distinctly human.

You turned round to face him, and that tiny, traitorous twang from before cracked deeper at the sight. He looked different. Like his body struggled with the weight of his armour, and he no longer had the energy to pretend it didn’t. He looked broken, and it frightened you. 

He didn’t look up, and instead seemed poised to turn in his seat, start the engines and pretend like nothing had happened if you walked away. It almost looked like he expected it. He knew you better than you knew yourself. 

The silence between you grew and pulsed with the weight of his confession as you fought the compulsion to flee. Not just the cockpit, but the ship while it was grounded. You’d finally got the apology you’d craved, the acknowledgement your pain needed, and now that you had it you wanted him to take it back. You longed for the stoic, closed-off Mando of a few hours ago. You didn’t know what to do with this one. It felt like your lungs would implode if you tried to speak, and your legs would give out if you tried to walk, so you waited to see what he would do if you did neither. 

Before you had your answer, the console blared to life. A grainy hologram appeared above it and you blinked against the flickers of blue bouncing off the beskar. It startled you in to taking quick, unsteady breaths, almost in time with the flashes of holo as the image steadied. 

Your name sounded through the cockpit, spoken clear through the static. 

Both your heads snapped toward the holoprojector, and what little air was left in your lungs left them altogether. 

There, hovering just beyond Mando’s shoulder— figure cracked and jumpy but unmistakably familiar — was Ramus. 

Next Chapter Chapter 3 Notes:

Most of the notes below are taken from Wookiepedia, so if you want to go down a proper rabbit hole about them, go have a look over there, but these are the points I found useful while writing this chapter. Please feel free to message me about any of this, I’d honestly chat away about it until I was blue in the face. 

Bounty hunter Kesh is a Mirialan- a human-like being with yellow, green, pink, or purple skin and geometric facial tattoos which symbolise personal achievements. They have a strong connection with the natural world, and believe in the Force. I figured because of this, she’d be especially good at ranger-style tracking, without the need for a HUD. Also, in my mind, Kesh uses she/ they pronouns, and I was initially writing both and switching, but for the purposes of storytelling, I'll refer to her as 'she/ her' in the story. I just thought I'd mention it as additional info, and in case a stray differing pronoun appears at any point, despite the fact that I have re-read this chapter in the editing process so many times over the last few days that words don't even look like words any more.

Vath is a planet I made up for the purposes of this story to be what I needed it to be: an amalgamation of several planets, ports and trading posts and other ideas all mushed together (like the root rat in the last chapter- root mice exist in canon, but I needed something bigger.) Vath is a grotty little backwater skug hole, but it's reader's grotty little backwater skug hole. Y'know? Jarek's gang crew's home sweet home.

Vakeyya is from SW canon, and is the capital city of Socorro, a planet in the Outer Rim with a reputation as a smuggler haven. It’s the homeworld of Lando Calrissian. Three-fourths of Socorro is covered by the Doaba Badlands, composed of hardened volcanic ash. The temperature averages 110 degrees and thermal winds and sandstorms are common. Rare and peculiar modifications to starships were a major source of planetary income, which is why Jarek and reader chose it to trade-in the ship. The name Socorro in Old Corellian meant ‘scorched earth’. It seemed fitting for Jarek and reader to have agreed that's where their next ship should come from as part of their get away plans.

A swoop bike is an overpowered version of a speeder bike (described as an “engine with a seat”), often used by gangs and criminals. As Han Solo once said— “Swoop jockeys have the brains of a blister gnat and about the same life expectancy.” Pot, kettle, Sir.

The Pathfinder-class scout ship was introduced in the year 56 BBY. For one or two crew members, it was 36 metres long and equipped with a unique shield generator design— when the shields absorbed a hit, the energy was diverted to the ship’s turret-mounted laser cannon, increasing its fire power. After three hits, however, the generator overloaded and the ship’s shields were unusable for a brief period of time. Some early models were destroyed due to explosions in their shield generators, prompting modifications and upgrades to the vessels, which could cost up to 10,000 credits. They were popular among private owners and independent scouts. It made sense to me that Jarek would trade in for something a lot older, in the same logic as Din flies something pre-Empire, but not as rare. Due to the popularity of Pathfinder-class ships, it's perfect for blending in. That little shield generator issue on older models? Don't even worry about it.

I am sort of playing fast-and-loose with transponder codes and signals in this chapter, and in general in this story (this is true making shit up about space territory) -In canon, they’re built in to star ships and can be used for tracking, but most criminals would transmit false codes (or not transmit at all, as Din gets pulled up for more than once.) Given that Jarek’s new ship is a one-man vessel, I’m just going with the fact that he’s prioritising putting as much distance between himself and, well, anyone else, over covering his tracks, since he doesn’t think anyone could possibly catch up to him.

I have taken more than a little inspiration for this entire fic from season 2 of Andor. The final episodes made me excited to write this and finish the chapter. The world-building and style of story telling truly made my brain go burr.

Lastly, I read the book “Tales of the Bounty Hunters”- edited by Kevin J Anderson- on holiday this month, and used it as an overall vibe/ my inspiration for Kesh. It’s a collection of short stories that came out in 1996 (gifted to my fiancé by his Aunt & Uncle on his 10th birthday in '98- awww), so it sits squarely in Legends territory. There are five stories about the bounty hunters in The Empire Strikes Back, including Boba Fett. It was a trip, and if you want some old-style stories that feel like OG Star Wars fan fiction, I highly recommend it!

Phew. That's it from me for now. Until next time! :)

[anotherrickinthewall]

Currently rewatching SpaceDad™ and his little green goblin... And by everything that is Holy, I hope they give him a Razor Crest in the movie. Something cozy to spend the time in hyperdrive in. A home away from home as to speak. Fingers crossed 🤞🤞🤞

[hinderr]

Clanoftwober day 11. Keldabe kiss

[mayukicrystalqueen]

Heads Up, Seven Up!

Make a new post, throw in the last seven(ish) sentences on your Wip, tag me and others!!

Din sobbed harder. What had he done to deserve him? To deserve someone so patient and understanding?

“Is he gonna be ok?” Ollie asked.

“He’ll be fine Ollie.” Luke said. “Just, don’t get anymore dead things, that’s the last thing that’ll help.’

Din choked out a laugh as he continued to cry. He wouldn’t have the same attachment to some random lizard, but he appreciated what Luke was saying.

“Then how can I help?” Ollie asked.

“Just give him space, okay?” Luke asked. “If he asks for anything specific from you, you can help that way, okay?”

Admittedly this is more than seven, but at least two of those sentences were two words and it said Seven-ish so yeah :P

Tagging @veradragonjedi and literally no one else because I don’t know anyone on here yet who writes yet.

[kalevalakryze]

Lost It All

Welcome to the Family, Chapter 3

Warnings: Violence, Alcohol Use, Non Con Drug Use, Attempted Assault,

Notes: Yeehaw justice, the children of the watch are good people? Wild. I still hate Moff Gideon. Bo Katan would do anything for her people, except finding a healthy, safe coping mechanism,

[thefrogdalorian]

You know what... I know a lot of us might laugh and joke around that Din Djarin is a himbo, but the main reasons given are the way he always seems confused about the galaxy around him and asks "stupid" questions. See below:

However, Din is constantly shown to be knowledgeable and respectful about other cultures that he encounters throughout the galaxy. He can speak several languages, even if his Jawa is terrible and makes him sound like a Wookiee. Din's instincts are always appropriate for the situation, remember how he diffused the situation with the Tusken raiders:

Plus, he's an incredible pilot and fighter!! He constantly gets himself out of dangerous situations with his skill.

This poor man just asks questions and has himbo allegations when ACTUALLY.... I think having a curious mind is the opposite of himbo behaviour. Himbos might ask questions, but they will not remember the answer.

Din is constantly shown to have a sharp mind. He asks questions because he wants to get to the bottom of everything he encounters, to file that knowledge away for later. I think he's actually incredibly smart and that's why he's such a great fighter. An intellectual tin can.

In conclusion: Din Djarin is not a himbo, not truly. He is beefy and kind but I don't think he is dumb.

But if you still want to call him a himbo, that's fine... he's still a little silly and goofy sometimes ♡

[kkusuka]

i would love to be john price's (141's) little bird.

(afab reader, you're lowkey a housewife, g/n pronouns, this was also a lot longer than i meant it to be-1.2k words- and i also wrote it entirely in class)

part 2

just the cute little thing he comes home to after long missions; ready to give him anything he needs to fully enjoy his time at home. barefoot and wide-eyed waiting for your bear of a husband to return from his long hard mission, keeping him fed and fucked as much as he needs. and he just loves you so much-- so much that he needs to show everyone how good you are for him.

it's not like he sets out to rub it in, but when his sergeant mentions not having anyone waiting for him at home-- john just can’t help but invite him over, you always talk about how much you love taking care of him, adding another man shouldn't be a problem! and what kind of captain would he be if he didn't take care of his subordinates?

and you aren't complaining! you love when john lets you see into his job! and gaz is just so sweet, saying please and thank you, offering to help clean the dishes, and politely refusing any leftovers even when you all know he has no food to go back to. so, you just have to keep inviting him over, night after night. and he's so good at conversations, even when he and your husband talk with all their military jargon, he makes sure you understand all of it; you just want to keep him in your house forever! so you kind of do…

you can't imagine making him go all the way home to his cold and dark apartment, it's so far and you know he's tired from his month of constant action-- so suddenly kyle has a bedroom set up right next to yours (close enough to hear how john thanks you for being so good to his sergeant, and just maybe a hand goes down below his waistband) a fully stocked bathroom and a place to put his shoes when you all come back your occasion dinners out. (they're dates, you don't think it but they do)

but kyle is not a man so stay silent about his blessings. you're too nice, too pretty to not tell soap about-- and trust john isn't going to complain, and he knows that you won’t either. 'the best roast i think i've ever had' and 'knows exactly how to make a man feel at home' and soap is not one to stray from his desires.

so you end up with your boys, and a bubbling scotsman in your dinning room with no warning. and you're upset, no one told you that you had to make more food and now there isn't enough to give everyone your usual heaping portion- and there is no way you're letting anyone go hungry in your home!

so you end up bouncing around the kitchen, trying to whip something up before the main course finishes in the oven and who but soap offers to help you out! he's got a hand on you at all times (two on your waist when you're chopping the onion, he just wouldn't know what to do with himself if you got hurt making him dinner. so he has to hold you steady, he has to run his hands over your hips keep you stabilized-- don't think too much into it, just stay focused on chopping bonnie)

and soap knows that he can talk for hours, but he can't help it when your eyes light up when he mentions his childhood in scotland and his missions around the world. and your small flinch and frown when he talks about getting hurt. their lass just can't help but worry about them. he just can't stay away from his captains sweet bird-- not when you send him off with a steaming pile of leftovers and a tight hug (pressed against him as hard as you can because you don’t want him to go)

johnny, a man to brag, never shuts up about how it took kyle three months to get a room but it only took him two. (sometimes when he comes back from the bathroom in the morning he can see into your room as you're getting ready. and he doesn't mean to do it but your panties are his favorite shade of blue and they look so amazing on you-- he wants to see them up close so bad.)

and so he tells ghost of all his troubles- unasked and randomly the next time they got sent out. and does ghost really care about johnny's playground crush on their captains bird? yes. how had he been left the only one not getting home cooked meals after being sent out? is he going to say anything about it?

not a chance.

so it takes a little while before the final place at your dinner table to be filled. but after a particularly grueling mission (and already wishing to come over), ghost is finally convinced he belongs with the rest of his team.

and you've never been happier to make extra food; you've been hearing for months about the illusive fourth man of your husband's battalion but having him stand in your kitchen with a cute little store bought dessert was certainly worth the wait. ( 'Ah didnae ken ye liked pink that much, lt' 'it was all they 'ad, can't show up empty 'anded, johnny')

and is he a little awkward and standoffish, of course-- years of military pressure will do that to a man!

and simon is just too sweet, even if he doesn't know it. he's pulling your chair out for you, and running out in the rain to collect the mail that you'd forgotten all about. he even lets you drag him to the grocery store during your weekly trips. (it's not dragging, he'd follow you into the pits of hell if you'd asked him too so the grocery store is really not a big deal.)

everything is just so perfect when all of your the boys are all in the house together!

and suddenly everything in life makes sense again. that plate that you can never reach on the highest shelf in the kitchen, a body is pressed against you as simon leans over you to grab it leaving you with a squeeze to your hip and red face. the gossip that your husband just never understood in the way he should is studently being told to kyle over coffee every morning as your other boys roll out of bed. the soap opera that you rope johnny into watching every thursday night becomes facemasks and wine time.

and john just loves it. he just loves you so much; loves the way you smile at kyles flirting, loves how you cuddle up to johnny on the couch, loves how you let simon hold you so close when you make his tea in the morning, and he just loves teasing you about it. (teasing? yes. making you face the fact that you want your husbands men to run a train on you like a whore. also yes.)

i wanna keep going but i have to let it end at some point

[polgarawolf1]

Every time I see these gifs I am reminded again just how completely and utterly EXHAUSTED Bo-Katan looks. I mean. She's reminding me a LOT of Obi-Wan around the Lawless episode through the face here. So here's me, going, "Geez, people, give this lady a sandwish and let her have a nice nap! She looks like she needs them. And a hug, too!"

I don’t know if I can keep everyone together.

[wzy3ka]

Random kisses ೀ - N.RK

Bf!Riki x fem!reader w.c- 0.8k

Warnings- none just fluff

You prank Riki by randomly kissing him throughout the day.

You woke up with the feeling emptiness beside you. You kept patting the empty side next to you trying to cuddle your boyfriend.

You groaned as you sat up and rubbed your eyes tiredly. You looked around still trying to look for your boyfriend, but he was still no where to be found.

"Ki" You mumbled trying to summon the man, you groaned once again and got up.

You stepped into the bathroom and began brushing your teeth. While brushing your teeth you scrolled through TikTok.

You came across this video of a girl kissing her boyfriend randomly throughout the day.

You chuckled and stopped.

‘That looks fun’ you thought as you began to think of it. 'Should I do it?' You thought again as you began to rinse your mouth.

You walked back to your room while still thinking about it. 'Imma do it' you thought smirking as you made your way downstairs.

On your way you smelled a delicious smell and you immediately recognised it.

PANCAKES!

You hurried your way down the rest of the stairs and made your way to the kitchen.

You arrived at your destination aka the kitchen and saw your boyfriend flipping the pancakes with airpods in his ear bopping his head to the music he was listening to.

You giggled and made your way to him, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head on his back, you felt him getting startled.

"You scared me" He said chuckling,

"Goodmorning" You said still resting your head on his back.

"Morning, okay love I'm gonna need you to move so I don't burn this house down" He said putting his free hand over yours.

You moved away and stood to his side, you stared at his side for a while and pecked his lips.

He looked at you with shockness but turned back to flip the pancakes quick before they burn.

"That was random" He said putting the pancakes on a plate.

"Come on" He said placing the plates on the dinning table.

You strolled over to the dinning table "Thank you" You said and pecked his cheek.

You both sat down and began eating. "What are you doing today?" You asked stuffing pancakes into your mouth.

"Jake hyung wanted us to hangout a little, so I'll probably be there for a few hours and come back so don't miss me much" He teased "Don't worry, I won't" You teased back.

A few hours passed and Riki went out with his friends.

You were sitting on the couch boredly, suddenly your best friend called.

"HANNI!" You yelled as soon as she picked up "Y/N!” She screamed back.

"What are you doing?" She asked "Not doing anything tbh, but I am doing a prank on Riki" You said giggling at the thought of it.

"What prank?" She asked "Well, it's a little cheesy but it's basically kissing your significant other randomly throughout the day" You said fiddling with your fingers

"OH! That's cute, tell me his reaction tomorrow, oh shit I have to go my Mom needs me. Bye bestie" She said as you also said your goodbye.

A few more hours passed and you heard the front door click open.

You shot your head up and saw a cheerful Riki entering.

You ran towards him and embraced him in a tight hug.

"I missed you" You muffled as you snuggled in the crook of his neck.

"I told you don't miss me too much" He said playing with your hair.

You both went to your bedroom and sat on the bed in eachothers embrace.

You looked up at him and randomly kissed him, he was shocked but soon melted into the kiss.

You pulled away and rested your head back on his chest. "What's with you today?" He said patting your head.

"Nothing" You shortly answered.

He then got up to make some ramen for the both of you to snack on.

You decided to follow him to the kitchen to watch him. You went beside him and pecked his neck, he giggled feeling ticklish.

You chuckled and pecked his cheek this time,

"Y/n, you good?" He asked reverting his attention from the ramen to you.

"Yeah, I just miss you" You replied clinging onto his side.

He looked at you weirdly but ignored. Now the both of you were sat on the couch with the bowls of ramen in your hands.

Riki put his bowl on his lap trying to find something to watch while eating.

You took this opportunity to sit on his lap.

You took his bowl from his lap to your hands and sat on his lap with both bowls in both hands.

Riki looked at you with shockness, then chuckled. "Do you need something ?" He asked eyeing you suspiciously.

"No" You replied shortly and handed him his bowl of ramen.

You were now resting your back on his chest still sat on his lap, you looked up at him and kissed his jaw, he looked down at you and smiled softly.

"Now, come here" He said flipping you over and tickling you, he stopped and pecked you all over your face.

And the night went on with many giggles.

Ty for reading!!🫶🏻💌

[skipper1331]

Little things // Alexia Putellas

headcannons

The little things Alexia and you do while being absolutely in love with one another

car and driving around

Alexia always opens the door for you

She‘s the driver while you‘re the passenger princess

She insists on hearing your playlist, even though you both have a shared playlist (she knows you love your playlist)

you kiss her temple/ cheek at every red light

She’s getting you some flowers in the time you‘re at your appointment (she insists on driving you everywhere)

having a water bottle and snacks in the car, just in case

in the kitchen

Alexia helping you the best she can but ends up admiring you from the bar stool or hugging you from behind as she whispers compliments in your ear

when it’s her turn with cooking, she only cooks things you love

Also she lets you try everything before serving and vice versa

"The chef deserves a kiss now "

She makes sure the table is set perfectly and the atmosphere is tranquil

Dinning with you is very important to her, so she makes sure not to mention work or anything that causes stress, she likes to keep the calm and lovely atmosphere

with her family

having a hand on your thigh under table, also drawing patterns on the back of your hand when you intertwine your fingers

one time, you dropped your fork, so within seconds her hand was covering the corner of the table, so you wouldn’t hurt yourself while picking up the cutlery

She loves the bond you have with her family, even though the mocking and teasing of you and Alba can be a pain in the ass.

Kisses always make up for it

"I‘m going to marry her" she tells her mother

Her family already knows because they can see it in her eyes when she looks at you

And they also know you‘ll say yes because they see the look in your eyes when you look at Alexia

You two are the perfect match

Her mother loves you

Her sister does too

at night

You wear her clothes, she loves the sight

both of you sleep better when you‘re with/next to each other

Alexia always has an arm around you, in the need of protecting you

you cuddle into her, legs tangled together, arms around each other

sometimes she‘s the big spoon and sometimes you are, it depends on the mood

when she can’t sleep, you‘ll scratch her back and she‘s in a slumber in an instant

During off days you‘ll stay up till the early hours, just talking, giggling, stating random facts or debating the newest gossip

soft snores filling the room

Alexia often wakes up before you, though she doesn’t make any signs of leaving the bed before you‘re up

If she has to get up though, she‘ll kiss your forehead and promise to be back soon and wishing you a good day

football

you‘re not a professional footballer (you had to google the rules after Alexia had told you she’s a pro) though she likes to think you are as she puts you in goal when the two of you are training together

'training together' - she begs you to join her training routines, ends up convincing you with kisses

It‘s enough to see her pout

you can’t resist her pout

-

watching random football matches at home

Alexia puts a jersey on the bed before each home game, so you have something to wear for the stadium

'Alexia' and '11' on your back making her heart flutter

Your heart bursts with pride every time you see her walking out of the tunnel

Cheering for her

always in the stadium at home games and at important away games (champions league final, etc)

you‘re her biggest supporter

Alexia makes sure football and you are balanced - she never puts football above you but she‘s still ambitious and always gives 101% to be the best

You‘re always impressed by Alexia, her talent is phenomenal

Alexia enjoys impressing you

-

at first Alexia used to shut you out after a lost match

over time she learns to let her guard down

you make her feel loved and appreciated

She can let her walls down around you and likes to think that it‘s okay to be vulnerable sometimes (you assure her that it always is)

after won matches only happy things happen; nice dates, kisses, relaxed evening, etc

the achievement jar

One evening, after Alexia had scored two goals and an assist, you brought up the idea

It‘s been in the back of your mind since awhile but only now the mini marble footballs had arrived

won game? One marble in the jar

Alexia scored a goal? one marble

Alexia scored two goals? two marbles

Alexia assisted a goal ? one marble

won trophy? three marbles in the jar

and so on

when the jar‘s filled Alexia gets a big big surprise. Such as special days with massages, literally anything to show her how proud you were and how much she deserved

Yes, you still had date nights which were also special but the achievement-appreciation-days were just a tiny bit more special

Alexia loves it

So do you

your job

Alexia supports you on every step of the way to your dream job

After a long and exhausting day, Alexia hugs you, runs you a bath, anything that makes you feel relaxed and appreciated

She‘s your date to any work event (vice versa)

Alexia has all of your (important) meetings and appointments in her calendar

If you have to study, Alexia makes sure not to bother/distract you yet also always making sure that you stay hydrated and take some breaks

future

Both of you have your future planned together

Alexia dreams of marrying you, she has the ring hidden in her football drawer because she knows you‘d never look there

You talked about getting a dog, both of you really liking the thought. You just couldn’t agree on which breed (yet)

private proposal

wedding just like you dreamt of as a kid

happy tears spilling out of your eyes as you see each other for the first time

best day of your life

amazing honeymoon

Both of you never taking of your rings

Alexia taping it for her matches

her new celebration is to kiss her ring after scoring

kids, if you want them

The future bright and welcoming as you continue to share the perfect marriage

you‘ll never stop loving each other

[t0malvr]

OUHH I THINK I FELL INLOVEE this is all ill talk abt for the next century btw

(yapperlings in tags uhhh…… ignore how tumblr deleted like half of it ☹️☹️☹️ My want for 007n7 is beyond the tags limit i fear)

I LOVE YOUR FORSAKEN AU SO MUCH could you do 007n7 x reader please?🥹🥹 I'm not very picky so you can do whatever you want with them!🩷

A/n: HE'S SO UNDERRATED and I love him and his kids 🫶 so OO7N7 X READER FEAT: bluudud, pr3typriincess, and c00lkid 😋 and also they're in highschool where their band wasn't known

Rhythm guitarist! 007n7

It was just another sunny day at the 007n7 household, the frequent screams of children, the laughter, and two teenagers trying to keep the house together without the children crying or fussing. It was exhausting, and frankly energy draining.

"Y'know you didn't have to do this..." 007n7 said while sitting down on the couch, his back immediately slumped when he sat, the exhaustion evident in his bones.

You shook your head but also sat down next to him, "Nuh uh, if I did, you would've collapsed from exhaustion" you giggled tiredly.

"Yeah, but atleast I didn't drag you down with it" he scoffed and stared at the kids on the otherside of the living room; pr3typriincess having a tea party and c00lkid enthusiastically slurping his 'tea' while his big cousin scolded him for being rash.

Then you slapped the back of his head, he visibly flinched his attention back to you while clutching his head "hey!—" "you're stupid to think that I'd leave you alone" you said while frowning "we're friends n7 no need to worry about me, I already knew what I was up to when I became friends with you" you said with a slight smile.

His face burned— god your smile was breathtaking, he can't help but think, and without thinking, he smiled back too "yeah..." He dreamily said.

"Eww, are you guys making out???"

bluudud suddenly came out of nowhere beside them. Both teenagers flinched away from eachother and sheepishly rubbed their necks.

"W-what- where did you come from??" 007n7 said while calming down his beating heart, but was a little bit annoyed that bluudud interrupted you two. He just shrugged and sat down between the two of them while clutching the remote that he snatched from 007n7.

"I came from earth big bro, now move the chips here or I'll tell your mom that I caught you making out with your crush" he deadpaned while pointing at the bowl of chips at the table. You giggled and reached for the chips and set it down on his lap "here you go kid"

"What- we weren't making out!! We were having a normal human conversation" he defended while rolling his eyes twitched.

"Uh huh, so a normal human conversation is leaning into them while having a dumb smile on your face" he said dismissively at him while flipping through channel after channel. You just watched their interaction with a smile while holding in your laugh.

"I didn't have a smile On mY fÆCe!" He screamed at him, causing a voice crack to happen. But he didn't even realize because he was too busy arguing with an 8 year old child.

The child in question was just ignoring him while watching 'the amazing world of gumball' in unusual silence that kids do when they're invested in a show.

He noticed this and just rolled his eyes while grumbling under his breath— realizing that he didn't listen to him, you chuckled and turned your attention to the show. "So... What makes this cartoon so interesting? It's just a talking blue cat and an orange fish" You asked bluudud.

"Just a blue cat and an orange fish!?" He gasped in offense, he turned to you with a horrified expression, like you just insulted his bloodline, you raised an eyebrow at this while holding in your giggle. "It's the best show in HISTORY— not only is it good but it's FUNNY without those cringe jokes and sound effects" he rambled while he stared at you in intensity, like he was studying your expression.

"What's wrong with cringe jokes and sound effects?" You asked, genuinely confused on why he doesn't like it, he scoffed and ate his chips in anger "there's EVERYTHING wrong with it, not only is it unfunny but it's also a terrible method of making people laugh!" He criticized while you just watched with a smile on your face, making him continue his rambles.

All while 007n7 watched in the distance with an unreadable expression on his face; his eyes dilated and with a faded smile.

His heart beated loud as he observed you two, his face burning and burning the more he noticed the little things about you. Oh god you were good at kids too.

Then suddenly a girly scream of your name cut off both you and bluudud's conversation, and 007n7's train of thoughts. His eyes turned back to normal, but his smile still lingered.

pr3typriincess suddenly came running with a bag of her accessories, she waved it around while dashing towards you. When she finally arrived in front of you, she went down to her knees and hugged your legs, "can I PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PUT HAIR CLIPS ON YOUR HAIR" she screamed while clasping her hands together in front of you. You sweatdropped and patted her head with an awkward smile "of course you can—"

"NO YOU CAN'T" bluudud suddenly screamed, which caught the attention of c00lkid and went over to the ruckus, he appeared next to his big brother and sat down onto his lap. 007n7 noticed and smiled down to him and patted his hair.

Pr3typriincess glared at him through the gap of your legs "AND WHY CAN'T I??" she screamed back "BECAUSE I WAS TALKING ABOUT THE AMAZING WORLD OF GUMBALL which is INFINITELY BETTER than your STUPID HAIR CLIPS" she gasped loudly at his audacity and tears gathered at her lashline, threatening to spill.

You looked at 007n7 for help and he instantly nodded

"Hey hey hey, no need to argue about it okay? You can both share them, no need to argue about it" bluudud looked at him with a betrayed expression, "but!—" he held a finger up "no buts, I don't want any of you kids crying okay?"

The child grumbled and sulked but didn't try to argue any longer, you smiled at your friend and he smiled back.

At last, the child on her knees wasn't crying any longer and was just staring at you with an unnerving smile, "WILL YOU??" you chuckled and picked her up to your shoulders "of course you can hun, make it extra beautiful for me okay?" She squealed and hugged your neck "YAY!!"

C00lkid just observed it with a frown on his face, his big brother noticed "whats wrong, kid?

"Can you put hair clips on my hair too?" He asked with dilated eyes, he smiled sheepishly "uh, yeah sure kid, but I don't really know how to do hair" he awkwardly patted his head, c00lkid slumped at this "oh..."

pr3typriincess suddenly stopped braiding your hair "I'll help you!" She announced, 007n7 turned his attention to her and smiled "really priincess? Okay then, lead the way" c00lkid smiled brightly when he heard his big brother say that, she smiled brightly and started to instruct him on how to style hair, using your hair to show him how. All while bluudud stared at the tv with intensity, already forgetting about the argument he had with his sister.

The moment was wholesome and cute for any on lookers, their house sharing the familiar warm feeling. Making them feel like a family, albeit a dysfunctional one, but 007n7 wouldn't trade the world for this.

"And that's how you braid hair! Just add a little bit of hair clips and you're basically the prettiest girl in the world!" She squealed as she added hair clips on your hair.

"Then you add accessories..." 007n7 followed and he put his burger hat on c00lkid "then you're basically the coolest little brother in the world!" He chuckled and squeezed his cheeks, his brother just whined and looked up at him. "Really?" He asked with his big eyes shining on him, "yes really little dude, even they agree don't you..."

He said while referencing you, and when he gazed at you, it felt like his air got taken from his lungs and shoved back to him. And he said your name dreamily and slowly, and you didn't notice it; the way the sun hit your face that made you look like a goddess, the way your braids made you look like a nymph.

His face burned the more that he stared at you. Unfortunately for him, both c00lkid and bluudud noticed.

"Big brother are you okay!? You're really red!"

"I think I just died and came back to heaven..."

"Eh-eh!? Big brother??"

"Don't worry kid, he's just constipated from staring at them for a long time— it's a side effect of a crush"

A/n: I have the kids too much spot light on this that you can TELL that I have a favouritism but in my defense they're clingy little demons that latch onto someone once they get an emotional attachment to them and C00LKID AND 007N7 FLUFF 😍😋

[scoobywrites690]

love love love your writing!! especially your poly141 works 💗

Thank you so much for the compliment on my writing, I really appreciate it.💕 I hope this fills that poly 141 shaped whole in your heart (I love poly 141 too, they're my babies😚)

-Poly 141 on readers birthday! (anyone got a birthday soon this ones for you💖)

-Cw multiple men, double penetration, oral (f receiving) cum in v

P.s this ones quite a long one🤭

You wake up to the sweet subtle smell of breakfast being cooked, the sweet sickly scent of waffles fills the air of the quaint apartment you share with the 141 team. You know for a fact that Kyle's out there with a bowl of batter pouring it into the waffle maker whilst Johnny takes pride in decorating the cooked ones with a mounting of whipped cream and a variety of different berries.

There's a groan and then the sound of shuffling sheets next to you, then you hear a mutter of curse words as you hear joints click and crack as John stretches out his poor tired body. Rolling over to face him he greets you with a warm smile as he rubs at his tired eyes.

"Happy Birthday, baby doll" He says into the top of your head as he wraps you up in his big bear-like hug. Almost squeezing the life out of you. Taking in a deep inhale he savours the faint scent of your shampoo, letting it wash over him, calm him. before he places a kiss to your temple and letting go to give you your space again.

"Smells like Kyle's making breakfast, wonder what state the kitchens gonna be left in"" He mutters, you humming in agreement.

"Never mind that, I know something I want more than some waffles" He says with a smirk plastered across his face. Connecting his lips with yours he pulls you into a deep embrace. tongues dancing together as he engulfs the small moans that slip out of your mouth.

Laying you down on the bed, he places a quick kiss to your forehead before he starts his decline down your body. leaving a trail of kisses on his journey, a giggle leaves your mouth at the feel of Johns moustache tickling you.

"Stop squirming, you" John says, landing a light slap to the side of your thigh as a warning. Shimmying your pyjama shorts down past your hips and over your thighs, John can't help but let a gasp slip past his lips, when he finally gets a look at the sweet pussy he loves so much (you'd think he was seeing it for the first time)

"There she is, such a pretty thing" He says to himself. The morning sun shining in through the window gives John the perfect view of the slick that's already formed, as it glistens in the light. Placing a light kiss to your clit already has you angling your hips up to meet his mouth, causing John to let out a low chuckle at how eager you are.

"Eager little thing, aren't you" He mumbles before he's sucking your clit into his mouth, flicking and teasing it with his tongue. then he's flattening his tongue against your folds before dipping down into your pussy to lap at your juices. an almost animistic groan leaves him as he laps at your sweet, sweet juices. his moustache being coated in a shiny sheen of your slick.

wrapping his arms around your things to stop you from wiggling away from him before he continues his attack on your clit, bringing it into his mouth before sucking on it. the sensitive little bundle of nerves spasming in his mouth at the intensity of it. The brutal assault causes your orgasm to come crashing down on you, John having to tighten his grip as you start to lift your hips off the bed trying to get away as the pleasure starts to turn into over sensitivity. But John needs to make sure he's got every last drop of your sweet sweet nectar. he can't let any go to waste, because to John it's like liquid gold.

After John cleans you up and helps you fix your hair, you join the others in the dinning room where you're presented with a plate of waffles with (like you predicted) a mountain of whipped cream and berries on top. Johnny not being able to help but smile at the creation he made just for you on your special day.

Hoping in the shower after eating as the boys want to take you round the shops, spoil you a bit they said (because it's not like they do that everyday of the year) Turning the shower on and letting it warm up before getting in. You let the hot water run over your skin, loosening your muscles as you let the water wet your hair.

Hands come down on your waist causing you to let out a squeal.

"I'm sorry, lass, didn't mean to scare ya" Johnny says "Thought you heard me come in" He mutters pressing a kiss to your temple, as his hands start to glide over your wet body. reaching down to the cup of your ass, giving it a quick squeeze.

"Heard you in the bedroom this morning" Johnny mutters into your ear as he nips at your earlobe.

"Captin made you feel real good" He says as he works his way down your jawline littering it in kisses. cupping your wet tits as he rolls your nipples between his fingers. Your thighs squeezing together in reaction.

"You want more?" He questions.

"I'd say she wants more" Says a voice behind Johnny. Being completely wrapped up in what Johnny was doing you didn't notice Kyle entering the shower.

"Hi, baby" Kyle greets with a smile, before placing a kiss to your lips. with you now sandwiched between them, you can feel Johnny's rock hard cock pressed up against your ass, and Kyle's cock growing harder just at the sight of your wet naked body.

Hiking your leg up and keeping it in there with his hand, Kyle drags the head of his cock up and down your folds coating it in your slick before he's pushing his tip past the entrance of you tight little pussy. Slowly bottoming out inside you waiting for you to adjust to the fullness. The sudden feeling of Johnny's dick poking at the entrance of the same hole Kyle is currently using has your heart racing.

"Shh shh, it's okay we've done this before remember, lass" Johnny mutters in your ear pressing a kiss to the top of your shoulder before he starts to slowly push into you too.

"Just relax, love" Kyle tells you "He'll be in in no time" He reassures you, giving you a comforting smile as Johnny pushes in deeper, the stretch quickly turning into a burning causes tears to prick at your eyes.

Once he's in everyone stills, letting you adjust to the stretch of having both of them in one hole. Once you give them the go ahead they both start to slowly move inside of you. the feel of both their heads bumping against your g spot has you melting in their arms. the discomfort that once was there soon vanished with the now overwhelming pleasure that they are both giving you.

The feel of their cocks rubbing up against each other in such a tight area has Johnny and Kyle groaning, and moaning out in pleasure. Their orgasms approaching much quicker than they'd expected. With you not far behind they thrust up into you at a much quicker pace, their tips no doubt hitting up against your cervix(leaving it bruised most likely)

Your orgasm washing over you causing you to squeeze down on them both has them soon spilling inside of you. pumping you full of their hot sticky cum.

It's a good job you were already in the shower. But it's okay because Johnny and Kyle help you clean up. sitting you down on the shower floor to wash your hair for you, before wrapping you up in a nice big fluffy towel.

later in the evening you find yourself in bed before anyone else(not surprising with the activities you've done today) curled up in clean pj's and fluffy blankets you let yourself drift off. It's not long until you're rudely awakened by Simon crawling into bed with you.

Pulling you towards him and wrapping you in his arms, he places a soft kiss to your lips before letting you drift back off. You awaken again, Simon still has you wrapped in his arms as he sleeps peacefully beneath you. Glancing at the clock tells you it's only 10:40, you can hear the chatter and laughter of the others in another room of the apartment. Probably all a few beers deep into whatever they're doing out there

The huff of Simon beneath you has your attention pulling back towards him. His deep hazel eyes looking into yours before pulling you in for a kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth. A groan slipping past your lips. Straddling your hips on either side of his wide form you can't help but grind your hips down on top of him.

"You want me, luv?" He asks pressing kisses to your neck, sucking so very gently at the skin.

"I'll be gentle, okay" He mutters "I know those two idiots out there stretched you out real good, didn't they?" He asks, and as on queue you can hear the loud laughs of Johnny and Kyle, probably laughing at something that is in no way funny at all.

Helping you take off your pyjama bottoms and to do the same to him, he's positioning you back on top of him guiding his cock into your tight little hole.

“There we go, atta girl” he groans, holding you up by your waist as he sinks deep into you. Guiding your hips backwards and forwards on top of him. Your clit drags across the top of his pelvis causing sparks of pleasure to rush through you. Your head coming down to rest on Simon's shoulder you let him take full control.

His grip on your hips tighten as he bounces you up and down on top of him. His dick bottoming out inside you every time. The sound of both your grunts and moans combined with the sound of his balls slapping against the bottom of your ass with every thrust fills the room.

Simon plants his feet on the bed to allow him to thrust up into you himself. His tip nudging at your entrance every time. With your legs shaking on top of him and his chest heaving as you both approach your release, you squeeze down on his cock as he fills you with ropes of his hot seed.

Letting you stay there whilst you both come down from your highs, you end up falling asleep like that. His arms wrapped around you as you lay on top of him, with his dick buried deep inside you keeping his cum from spilling out.

A very good birthday if i do say so myself.🎉🎉

[multific]

A Warrior

Din Djarin x Reader

Summary: You are awaiting his arrival.

As you sit on the edge of your chair, eagerly awaiting the return of the Mandalorian, your mind races with anticipation. 

The sound of his ship approaching grows louder and louder, sending a thrill of excitement through your veins. 

You can't help but wonder what adventures he has been on, what dangers he has faced, and what treasures he may have acquired.

You were also thrilled to finally see your son.

When he sent word of his arrival home, you could barely contain your excitement.

You cooked all of his and Grogu's favourites as you waited for them.

Finally, the familiar whirring of the ship's engines fills the air, and you jump to your feet, rushing to the window to catch a glimpse of the Mandalorian's arrival. 

The ramp lowers with a hiss, and there he stands, clad in his iconic armour, a stoic figure against the backdrop of the setting sun.

As he strides towards you, you can't help but feel a sense of awe at his presence. 

The Mandalorian is a legend in his own right, a warrior of unmatched skill and determination. 

You can't help but feel a surge of pride that he has chosen to return to you, to share his stories and his victories.

That he chose you.

As he enters the room, you can see the weariness in his posture, the weight of his battles etched into his features. 

But there is also a glint of satisfaction, a sense of fulfilment that comes from a job well done.

He hands you Grogu as you smile at your little one and hug him. 

You also offer a smile to your Mandalorian before you offer him a seat, pouring him a drink as he regales you with tales of his latest exploits.

You knew he wasn't the hugging type.

You hang on to his every word as he talks, captivated by his storytelling prowess and his quick wit. 

The Mandalorian may be a man of few words, but when he speaks, his words carry weight and authority. 

You can't help but feel privileged to be in his presence, to witness firsthand the legend in action.

As the night wears on, you find yourself drawn deeper into the Mandalorian's world, his stories of adventure and danger. 

"You need to sleep Djarin. You must be tired."

"Put the kid to sleep first." you smiled at him as you left so he could finally eat and drink.

Soon, Djarin came into your shared room. With his weapons safely put away, he joined you in your comfortable bed.

He let out a long sigh.

"Finally home, the kid missed you."

"Only the Kid?" you asked as you turned on your side to face him. He was lying on his back as he let out a low hum. 

"Maybe, I missed you too Meshla."

"Would be weird if you didn't miss your wife, Djarin." his arms moved as he pulled you closer to his body, with his armour also gone with his weapons, he only had his helmet on.

You felt his warmth fill you under the covers.

"I hate leaving you." he admitted.

"I know. But we do need credits to survive."

"I'm sorry that this is the life I can offer."

"Don't be. I was well aware of all of this when I met you and then later we married. If I wanted comfort and luxury I would have married Boba." Djarin pinched your side as you let out a laugh.

"Please, don't let yourself worry about that. I love you, and it is all that matters."

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum." (I love you) he whispered before he finally allowed his body to relax and fall asleep.

The Mandalorian may be a warrior, but in your eyes, he is a true hero, a beacon of hope in a galaxy filled with darkness.

And he just happened to be your husband.

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen 

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REUPLOAD ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[littlemissskuld]

I made this post on the 20th of last month and it has come full circle back to me.

Wild.

Rewatching the Mandalorian because comfort.

[differenteagletragedy]

Heyyy !!

So i had an idea.

Since Simon doesn’t celebrate birthdays at all, let’s imagine a world where reader’s birthday comes before his.

How would he react?

I thought that maybe he would ignore it just like anyone else’s birthday which would sadden reader A HELL LOT.

I absolutely live for angst so I believe that Simon would be crushed once he realizes his mistake and try to fix it.

Anyway, I hope that was understandable! Your writing is so good, I’m a 100% sure you’ll turn this into a masterpiece !

THANK YOU!??!!?! I live for the angst too, big big time, I hope you like it!!!

Simon keeps a watchful eye on you as you get ready for a night out with friends. He watches you do your hair and makeup, slide into a tight little dress, and it's a pleasant sight to see, but something's off. There's a tenseness in your shoulders, and he can't figure out the source.

"Everything all right?" he asks from his spot on the bed while you move to the closet to find a pair of shoes.

"Yep," you answer in a tone that tells him that everything is not, in fact, all right.

He stands, making his way to you, and you still when he puts his hands on your hips, pulling you so that your back rests against his chest.

"Can't fix the problem if I don't know what it is, love."

"The problem," you tell him, sliding around to face him, "is that I'm going to be late if you keep being handsy."

He lets you slip away from him.

Later that night, when you come home, you're buzzed enough to be honest but not enough to be belligerent about it. He meets you at the door, kneels to take your shoes off for you, and you begin.

"I'm sad."

He sets the shoes down and stands, taking your hands in his, and says, "Well, we can't have that, now can we?"

"It's my birthday," you tell him.

"As of midnight, yes."

"... You knew?"

There's hurt in your eyes, and Simon understands immediately that he's played this all wrong, but he's still trying to work out where exactly he failed.

"'Course I knew," he answers truthfully. "I know everything about you."

"Then why didn't you say anything? My friends took me out for my birthday, and you ... you didn't even say anything. You didn't want to come. Why not?"

"Because I knew you'd have more fun with your friends than you'd have with me."

It's another truth, but it's just the tip of the iceberg.

You sigh, then drop one of his hands, taking the other and leading him to the couch. You've been together long enough that he knows what this is -- you've just realized you've uncovered another piece of Simon Riley that is a little bit peculiar, and you want to talk it out.

"So here's the thing," you begin, sitting next to him. "I love you. I love being around you. And I want to be around you on my birthday."

He fights against the din that begins immediately in his mind -- the too-loud thoughts about how he doesn't deserve this understanding, doesn't deserve your kindness, doesn't deserve you, and he tries to speak.

Nothing comes out.

It's too many things, too many mistakes. It's the deep-seated feeling that plagued him at the beginning of the relationship, that quietened over time but is now back in full force, screaming through the silence in the room and making the patience in your stare painful: he's not cut out for this.

Finally, in a small, defeated voice, he says, "I was going to tell you happy birthday."

You pull him into a hug, then push him down until he's half-laying on the couch, his head in your lap and your fingers running through his hair. He closes his eyes, part of him waiting for this to be the final straw for you and part of him knowing, somehow, that you love him too much to let him go.

"Listen," you say softly, "I know sometimes you feel like you're not enough. But I need you to know that you are, ok? You're more than enough for me, Simon, you're everything. And that means spending birthdays with me and holidays and good times and bad times and everything else that makes up a life, because I want to share my life with you. Is that what you want?"

He can't say it in words, he doesn't know any that would suffice. He tries to say it in actions, in the way he gives you the first cup of tea, how he scrapes the ice off your windshield when it frosts and how he stops the radio in the car on your favorite songs, even when he can't stand them. He tries to press it into you too, through his hands and his mouth when he holds you.

Now, in the moment, he nods, his head still resting in your lap, and he hopes you can feel everything else. How hard he tries.

Your touch turns softer, and you pause to lean down and press a soft kiss on his temple.

"So tell me."

He hesitates, then turns to lay on his back so that he can look up at you. He feels the corners of his mouth tug upwards into a smile, small but genuine. It still feels strange, even after all these months, like a muscle that's never quite developed. It aches a little less every time.

"Happy birthday, sweetheart," he says.