#domestic bliss!Din Djarin

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A FRESH START [22]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: panic attack, trauma reaction, mentions of injuries, nonsexual nudity

Word Count: 5,935

Updates every Thursday

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

[a/n: i was forced to shorten the taglist for the sake of my sanity. tumblr won't let me post with more than certain number. I think that's why I've had the hardest time with this shit. I made it a first come, first served so if your username got dropped I am so so so sorry but that's why.]

#22: LIKE FATHER, LIKE SON

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"i find my place in between your arms, in between your tender kisses and soft whispers of 'it will be alright', in between the warmth of your embrace, and the scent of your neck, and the fierceness of your touch, i find my place lost inside your soul." -Hearts and Empires

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Din was immensely proud of your skills as a physician. However, if you didn’t get your ass out of the damn medic tent he was going to throw you over his shoulder and carry you home forcibly. More than anything, you needed rest. He wasn’t able to convince you to stop working and because the medical aid had yet to arrive no one else sided with him on these matters. Karga had the nerve to tell him to calm down. Din had nearly wrung the High Magistrate’s neck. 

He watched as you flittered around the medical tent aiding those who were injured alongside Aayla. Grogu had refused to leave your side, and that didn’t seem to bother you at all. Right now, as if you weren’t exhausted and barely standing, you had a sling wrapped around your chest which held Grogu against your back. Din could see the little boy resting his head against your back while rubbing your shoulder with his small hand. The sight warmed his heart and Din would be tempted to snap a picture to save if it weren’t for the state of your being. Your scrubs were still stained with blood and you had yet to clean your own wounds. It was stressing Din out to watch you working so hard when you were still in the state you were in.

While turning to see someone else, Din noticed you wavering on your feet. That was enough. He pushed forward and pressed through the injured crowd straight to you. “Hey.” You turned to meet his gaze. “It’s time to go home. You’re barely able to stand.”

“I can’t⏤”

“Ner kar’ta.” Din said firmly.

You sighed. “Alright. Fine.” Your shoulders sagged. “I guess I am a little tired.” Din shook his head, a quiet chuckle slipping from his lips. Your small smile turned sheepish and Din dreaded whatever it was you were going to say next. “I need to make sure Nima has cleared the tarmac though so the medical team can park.”

“What?”

“We need to get⏤”

Din reached his gloved hands out to cup your face. At the contact, the rest of your words fell away. He leaned forward and spoke firmly. “We’re going home. You need to rest. Somebody⏤ Anybody else can do the rest of the work here.” He let his thumb trace your cheekbone. Din wished he could feel your skin against his. “Have you managed all the emergency cases?”

“I mean, yeah, but⏤”

“Then it’s time to take care of yourself.” Din finished.

Your lips pressed together and gave him a small nod. Din let out a breath of relief. Without wasting another moment, Din slipped his hand into yours and began to drag you away before someone could distract you with a new job. Just having your hand in his was a comfort he couldn’t even begin to describe. During his travels, he imagined what his reunion with you would look like often. Never did he imagine karking pirates would be involved, but this feeling in his chest he had anticipated. He knew being back by your side would feel like coming home. In fact, he may have underestimated how strongly the reunion would make him feel⏤ which was quite the feat considering how badly he craved it.

Din stepped into the shared home and he couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

“Frog. Frog.” Grogu chirped. He turned in time to see you untangling the boy from the sling to set on the ground. Grogu bounded further into the room probably to look for his stuffed toy. 

Din focused back on you and his heart ached at the exhaustion painted on your face. Not wasting another moment, Din ripped off his gloves, tossing them aside, and reached out to cup your face. You let out a shuddering breath when his skin came in contact with his and Din felt that last tinge of stress leave his body. You were safe. It felt more real like this. 

“Are you still allowed to take this off to kiss me?” You asked. Din couldn’t tell if your quiet voice came from a meekness or just the weariness of your last 24 hours. 

“Yes.” Din chuckled. “We just need to be more careful.”

Technically speaking, it would be best if he didn’t take his helmet off anymore. Having you close your eyes was not the most ideal of plans. Accidents could happen, and more than anything it was just a loophole in his Creed. However, Din would give up vital organs before he gave up the gift and honor that was kissing you. 

You closed your eyes and Din lifted one of his hands so he could lightly trace your bruised and dirty features. He hummed, “You’re injured and tired. We should take care of that first.”

“Literally nothing is more important to me right now than this.” You replied.

Din hardly needed further convincing. Removing his hands from your face had been painful⏤ even knowing that it was only for a moment so he could take his helmet off. Without the barrier between you and him, your injuries looked worse. The dark coloring of the bruising and the red of the blood was so much more prominent. Din could see bags under your eyes he hadn’t noticed before. With a quiet sigh, Din cupped your face once more.

“Ni ceta.” Din mumbled soft apologies. He leaned in to press his lips first against your left eyelid then your right. He continued to pepper soft kisses across your cheek until they found your lips. Din would be a liar if he said he hadn’t spent every single night while gone imagining what your lips would feel like on his return. And, just as with the reunion, his mental image did not do the moment justice. Din had pictured passion and heat, a battle between one another to devour the other first, but this kiss was not that.

This kiss was soft, tender, and patient.

Three things that Din never got to call his own, living a life of battle in armor of Beskar.

Your lower lip was slotted between both of his and as he gave it a gentle tug you released a shaky sigh. The sound struck him like a hot iron and Din couldn’t help but breathe you in. He pulled you closer so your body was flush with his, let the tip of his tongue trace the shape of your lip, as he deepened the kiss. Din allowed desperation to seep into his very touch. It couldn’t be helped. Din was desperate. He was desperate to feel your very alive heartbeat under his touch. He was desperate for the warmth you exuded. He was desperate to show you how thankful he was for your safety. He was desperate for you to know how proud he was of you. He was desperate for you to know how sorry he was for not being here. 

Din was desperate, and it was all for you. 

“Ni ceta, ner kar’ta.” Din spoke directly against your lips. Nothing short of the Maker would tear him away from you. Your own hands lifted and when he felt your fingers rake against his scalp, tug on his hair, Din’s repeated apology fell out in a groan. Din dragged his lips along your jawline, taking the time to leave a kiss on every inch. Eventually, his lips found your neck and he left kisses over the darkened bruise there. “I’m so sorry.”

“Not your fault.” You replied in a hoarse whimper. 

Din disagreed entirely. He should’ve been here. He never should have left your side. You flinched when his lips touched a spot more tender than the rest. It was barely noticeable. In fact, he wouldn’t have realized you flinched at all if it wasn’t for your body being pressed so tightly to his. It was enough to remind him that you still needed care and rest. Din pressed one last kiss against your lips⏤ innocent and loving. When he pulled back you let out a whine of complaints. Din reached down to grasp his helmet and pulled it back on.

He leaned forward to rest the beskar against your forehead and at the touch your eyes opened once more. More than anything, Din wanted to see the color of your eyes unhindered by his visor. Even with the helmet on he found your eyes mesmerizing but the visor always muted colors. It seemed fitting if he thought about it. Even with the loophole of taking his helmet off, with your eyes closed a part of you stayed hidden to him. Just as he was hidden to you.

“Let me take a look at your wounds.”

“No.” You said and Din furrowed his brow. As if reading his displeasure at the response, you shook your head and clarified. “I meant, not now. I want to take a shower first. I need to.”

Din found it hard to argue against that. You wouldn’t be able to fully relax until the day was washed from your skin. He nodded and walked you further into the house. He kept one hand on your lower back, and Din loved that you kept pace with him. It wasn’t as if you didn’t know where the bathroom was, but the action made it feel like you were just as desperate as he was to stay in the other’s presence.

Grogu waddled out of the hall, dragging his stuffed frog behind him, just as the two of them reached the mouth of the hallway. He held his hands up, chirping out a request to be held, and Din knelt down to scoop the boy up before you could. Grogu blew a raspberry at him. “No buir. Need Ma.”

“I know, ad’ika.” Din replied. “But Ma has to take a shower.”

Grogu grumbled in protest, but when you reached out to lovingly pet the boy’s head Grogu was marginally appeased. As you drifted to the bathroom, Din gathered a fresh towel for you and he also grabbed one of his shirts for you to change into. A decision made solely to relieve the itch in his brain that needed to see you safe in his bed wearing his clothes, but you accepted both items with a tired smile. 

When the door shut and he heard the water kick on, Din blew out a breath of relief. He glanced down at Grogu who was still staring at the bathroom door. “It’s good to be home, isn’t it ad’ika?”

“Home with Ma.” Grogu nodded in agreement.

“Right.” Din chuckled. “We’re home with Ma.”

The hot water pelted your back and left your skin radiating heat. You had washed your hair, begun to wash your body, but midway through you dropped the bottle of soap. As you knelt down to pick it up, you suddenly had a flash of kneeling beside Wynn’s dead body. It sucked the air straight from your lungs and knocked you to your ass. Now you sat under the unrelenting stream of water with your legs curled up to your chest⏤ gasping in distress. Any air you did manage to fill your lungs with was uncomfortable and brought no relief. It felt like you were suffocating. 

A choked sob left your lips as you buried your face in your arms as they rested atop your knees. No matter how much you tried to turn your tired mind off, it continued to ruminate on the decisions you made. If you hadn’t forced Wynn to leave, would she still be alive? She wanted to wait for help. You felt trapped in this memory. A loop of telling Wynn she needed to run followed by watching the life leave her eyes right in front of you. You could still feel the warmth of her hot blood while holding her wound⏤ still feel the snapping of her ribs during the course of your desperate CPR. All useless. You didn’t save her. You sent her to her death. 

The sensation of having a towel thrown over your shoulders was startling. Your head snapped up to see Din knelt beside you. The shower head was off, Din’s gray pajama shirt plastered to his body on the side from water, and just behind him you could see the bathroom door hanging off it’s hinges.

“Ner kar’ta.” Din’s voice was rough. “Please talk to me.”

“Din?” You gasped. He had the large towel wrapped entirely around your body covering every inch of you. “What⏤ I don’t understand⏤”

“I heard something fall. I called out for you, over and over, but you didn’t respond.” Din replied. His voice took a sheepish tone. “I⏤I broke through the door.” He let his arms run over the towel covering your arms, giving them a squeeze. “Found you like this. Even when I turned the water off you still didn’t…”

It was the sight of your reflection in his visor and helmet that seemed to push you over your edge. Tears welled in your eyes and once the first ragged sob left your lips it was followed quickly by a string of others. Despite the fact that you were sitting on a tiled floor soaked with puddles, Din sat down right beside you and cautiously pulled you into his arms. You tucked yourself against his chest, and he fully enveloped you with his arms while resting his head on top of yours.

“It’s okay. You’re safe.” Din murmured. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head. Your sobs only interrupted by the sound of your lungs gasping for air. Din tightened his arms around you, a feat you didn’t know was possible, and you found comfort in his solid form. Din was here. Din made everything better. You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there, but eventually Din mumbled softly, “We need to get you dressed. You’ll be cold soon.” You didn’t tell him that you’d never feel cold in his hold. “Need to treat your wounds too.”

Din helped you stand. He cautiously led you out of the shower, arm around your torso, and he stopped you in front of the bathroom counter. “I’m going to get the first aid kit from the kitchen. Are you going to be alright?”

You nodded. Din paused, as if hesitant, before returning the nod and moving toward the door. He mumbled a curse under his breath, you could hear it, and then he grabbed the large chunks of the door that had broken off when he rammed it to set aside where nobody would trip over them. While he was out, you grabbed his shirt and tugged it on⏤ using the damp towel to try and pat dry the dripping ends of your hair. Din returned, his visor scanning your body, before he settled beside you again.

With a focused intensity, Din applied a bit of bacta to the wound at your hairline and then rubbed some of it into the bruise around your neck as well. In the midst of his work, you whispered, “Wynn is dead.” Din’s fingers paused in their motion, surprise reading in his frame, but he was quick to return his movements and stance back to baseline. “She’s dead and I didn’t tell anybody. I forgot to tell someone.” Tears returned to your eyes. “I just left her in the street, Din. I left her like she meant nothing.”

“Hey.” Din said firmly. “This was during the firefight, was it not?” You nodded in confirmation. “You had no choice, ner kar’ta. That wasn’t your fault.”

“I think it was.” Your words fell out a pained whisper.

Din’s hands lifted to cradle your face and you leaned into his touch. It felt like he wanted to say something, but he paused. Instead, Din tangled his hand with yours and pulled you out of the bathroom. He didn’t ask, didn’t even hesitate, to pull you into his room. The moment you entered you heard Grogu’s familiar snores and it was such a comforting sound to hear after weeks sleeping in silence that you nearly cried. Din pulled back the covers and helped you slide in.

Rather than follow you into bed, he took a step back and the look on your face must have been obvious enough that he reached out to caress your face. “I’m coming back. I need to change clothes.”

Your eyes focused on the large wet stains from where you had been curled up into him. Din crossed the room and your eyes widened and bit when he began to pull his shirt off. His movements were confident and it warmed your heart that he was comfortable enough with you to reveal himself like this. Your eyes trailed over the expanse of his muscular back⏤ admiring the rugged lines of his broad shoulders and the various scars that littered his skin. Din pulled a new shirt on and you expected him to come back. Instead, Din began to pull off his sweatpants. Slowly, you sat up, pulling the sheets closer to you, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes trace the shape of his lower half. You were blatantly ogling this man in his boxer briefs as he tugged on a new pair of sweats. Before turning back around, you saw him pick up his vambrace, pressing a few buttons, before setting it down once more.

Din turned around, tying the strings at his waistband, and he chuckled. His voice came out as teasing and light hearted. Clearly trying to put you at ease. “Are you checking me out, ner kar’ta?” 

“I missed you so much.” You replied. Too tired, physically and emotionally, to tease back the way that you wanted to. Instead, the truth tumbled out of your lips.

He came back around to the bed and slipped under the sheets. As Din’s arm wrapped around your waist, you let him pull you back into laying down. You shifted so your head rested on his chest and Din began to drag his knuckles up and down your spine. “I missed you too. Being away from you was unbearable for Grogu and I both.” Din hummed. “He tried to stay up for you, but passed out. Grogu didn’t sleep well last night. I think my anxiety kept him up.” Your hand was resting on his side⏤ fingers dragging up and down his ribs. You mumbled into his chest. Din’s hand, the one rubbing your back, trailed up to rake through your hair. “I want to talk.”

“About?” You mumbled.

“Ner kar’ta.”

You let out a soft chuckle. “Din…”

“You don’t have to talk to me, you don’t have to tell me anything, but…” Din sighed, “I’d like to know. I want to help.” He massaged the back of your neck right where it met your skull and all your tension sat. A soft sigh left your body as you relaxed in his arms. “I sent Karga a message about Wynn. They’re going to find her. Put her to rest.” You buried your face down into his chest knowing your tears would dampen his new shirt all over again. “I just want to help.”

After a few moments of peaceful silence where you listened to Grogu’s snores and Din’s heartbeat, you turned so your face wasn’t pressed into his chest and you could speak. Hesitantly, you began to tell him what happened⏤ starting with the bombs that fell on Nevarro and ending with Paz leading you out of the burning city as you carried Elodie. The entire time Din didn’t speak. He’d mumble an acknowledgement or hum here and there, but he made no comment. 

When you finished, Din finally spoke up, “Tell me why you said what you did. You said what happened to Wynn was your fault.”

“She didn’t want to go. She wanted to stay hidden and wait for help.” You closed your eyes tightly as the memory of Wynn’s lifeless eyes assaulted you once more. “If I had listened to her she might be alive. Help did come. I⏤I should have been more patient.”

“Ner kar’ta, you made that decision based on the limited information you had. You didn’t know I was coming and bringing help. Where the three of you were hidden wasn’t safe. If one of the pirates did discover you, you’d be pinned down in a hole.” Din spoke with a firmness that left no room for argument. “In that moment, you made the best decision you could. You made the right decision.” He used the arm not around you to grasp your chin and tilt your head up so you were facing his visor. “Listen to me, ner kar’ta. That was not your fault. You did not take Wynn’s life, she gave it to save Elodie. Wynn is a hero. Don’t take that from her by shouldering needless blame.”

There was something about the way Din spoke that resonated with you. His words calmed the turmoil in your soul. Din could repeat the same sentiment that anyone else would speak, but when it came from his lips it soothed your wounds like a salve. He couldn’t heal everything, there was self reflection only you could puzzle through, but he was a hand to hold as you waded through the worst of it.

“Din…” You started. Before you finished your sentence, it occurred to you that the words you wanted to say were significant. You wanted to tell Din you loved him. That’s what you felt right now. It was overwhelming. It was all encompassing. 

Din still had his hand at your chin and he let his large hand shift from your chin to your jaw. He held the side of your face and let his thumb trace patterns in your skin. “Yes, ner kar’ta?”

Saying those words felt like quite the leap. You were confident in the way you felt about him and how he felt about you, but there was a part of you that couldn’t quite push the words out. You were too mentally wiped out to process those thoughts right now. Not knowing how else to express how grateful you were for this man, you turned your face so you could press a kiss to the palm of his hand.

Din let out a content sigh and he shifted his body so you could rest more comfortably against him. He hummed and you heard the rumble of it in his chest. “Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” He went back to soothingly dragging his fingers up and down your spine. “I’ll always be here.”

You let your eyes close and took a slow breath as Din’s warmth and the comforting smell of him lulled you into the best sleep you’ve gotten since Din and Grogu left. 

Nevarro was in pieces. Rubble decorated the streets and buildings were in shambles. Despite how terrible it looked, Din couldn’t help but be proud of the citizens of the city he looked after. They were strong. Nevarro was already healing only days after the attack. Din walked down the street with Grogu in his arms. The boy was squirming, wanting to get down, but with the rubble and debris Din didn’t want him wandering around. As he walked down the street, every once in a while a person would pause to thank him for bringing help⏤ bringing the Mandalorians. Din would nod in response, but it would shoot a pang of guilt through his chest. He didn’t deserve thanks. He had left them after all.

Din’s steps slowed as he began to pass the school house. Outside of the building, a memorial had been set up for Wynn. Candles, flowers, and cards covered the front steps and Din found himself letting out a sigh. The school teacher was a hero. Din meant that seriously when he spoke to you. It hadn’t been your fault, absolutely not, and both you and Wynn were the reason Elodie was alive and well. Her and her parents were currently off world. The little girl needed more intensive care than could be provided here, but last Din heard the child was doing very well.

“Miss?” Grogu mumbled. Din recognized the title Grogu would call his teacher. 

“Yes, ad’ika.” Din confirmed. Grogu’s ears wilted as he stared at the memorial. Din rubbed Grogu’s back and began to walk again with the goal to reach the clinic. You had left home early to go to work. You’d be there for any emergencies, per the norm, but you were also using today to see many of the people who were injured the day of for follow up. To ensure everyone was healing as they should. Din was of the opinion that you needed more rest, if not physical then mental, but trying to convince you of that was a near impossibility.

When Din reached the corner, Bo Katan pushed off a wall to join his pace. Her helmet was tucked under her arm. The Armorer had announced that the Mandalorians needed to come together rather than fall apart. It was a sentiment he could understand. Mayfeld had asked him about the helmet situation. Mandalorians coming together was a good idea, Din agreed, but coming to coincide with one another didn’t change the Creed he had dedicated himself to.

“Once this place gets cleaned up, I can see it being a nice place to live. To settle.” Bo hummed. Din nodded once, and she glanced his way. “I’m glad your partner is safe.”

“Thank you.” Din replied sincerely. 

“There is something I’d like to speak to you about.”

“I figured.” He said. “Does this have anything to do with retaking Mandalore?”

Bo chuckled, “Good guess.”

“What about it?”

“Well,” Bo kept by his side, “Is there anything I can say that will convince you to come with me to reclaim my fleet from Axe Woves?”

Din didn’t pause even a beat when he answered. “No. There isn’t.”

Bo sighed in annoyance and Din briefly felt guilt at the waves of frustration wafting off of Bo’s tense frame. Half of him felt like it was his duty to help in any way to restore Mandalore, but the other half could not even begin to fathom leaving you again. It occurred to Din that this might be selfish of him. His people needed him, right? He locked his jaw at the thought. 

“Your help would make this all go smoother, I think. We make a good team.” Bo said.

Din chuckled, “Did that hurt you to admit?”

“It did.” Bo smirked. “Which is why you should take it seriously.”

Din paused when the clinic came into view. He turned to face Bo and shook his head. “It’s not that I don’t want to help. Retaking Mandalore is a noble endeavor. One I would be honored to help in.” He paused. “But my family is here. I got lucky during that attack. I... I almost lost her.”

“I understand that.” Bo replied. “I know the weight of what I’m asking you, Djarin. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t think it was important.”

Din glanced back to the clinic and did a double take when he saw you coming out. A smile began to form on his features, but it fell when he watched Paz walk out behind her with Ragnar by his side. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You were wearing your white coat, a look Din truly loved on you, and Paz was chatting with you about something. Something that made you laugh in response. Since when was Paz funny? 

“Didn’t know you were the jealous kind, Djarin.” Bo chuckled.

Din snapped a glare at her. “I’m not jealous.”

“It’s all over your face.”

“I’m wearing a helmet.”

“Yet somehow I still know it is.”

Din grunted in mild annoyance. He wasn’t jealous. Per say.  It was just like with Vanth. Din was confident enough in his relationship with you, even as undefined as it currently was, that he wasn’t worried about someone sweeping you away. Din just had a bad habit of accidentally letting his possessive nature show and there was something about seeing his brother flirt with you that stirred him into wanting to fight.

Both you and Paz glanced down at Ragnar who must have been speaking and you set a hand on the boy’s shoulder with a smile. 

“Hm. They’d make a cute family.” Bo teased.

“Stop.” Din snapped.

He was caught off guard when Grogu jumped out of his arms. Him and Bo quickly followed after the boy who was in a mad rush toward you. Din watched as his son shoved past Ragnar, making the boy stumble enough that Din had a feeling the Force was involved, before leaping into your arms. 

“Oh, hey, baby.” You cooed.

“Ma. My Ma.” Grogu cuddled into your arms while shooting Ragnar a glare. 

Bo glanced at Din. “Aw. Like father, like son.”

Din wished he could take his helmet off just so Bo could see the full weight of the glare he currently wore. He continued forward until your eyes shot to him and the bright smile that filled your features just from spotting him. 

“What are you guys doing here?” You asked.

“Just checking in on you.” Din replied. Bo cleared her throat and Din sighed before nodding his head toward the woman standing beside him. “This is Bo Katan Kryze. Bo, this is Soran.”

You held your hand out to shake Bo’s hand and the red headed woman returned the greeting. Paz let one of his large hands settle on your shoulder and Din felt himself bristle at the motion. His older brother chuckled. “No need to worry. Wero’ika is doing more than fine.”

“Yeah, Paz brought me a late breakfast.” You chirped. 

Yeah, okay, Din was going to murder him.

“Oh, hang on,” You glanced over your shoulder, “I see a problem patient walking in. I’m not gonna subject Aayla to that.”

Din nodded once and you shot Bo and Paz a smile, squeezing Ragnar’s shoulder as well despite Grogu’s complaints, and then you turned to leave. As soon as you were inside the clinic, Din turned to Paz with a grunt. “Wero’ika? What the kriff is that?”

“A nickname, Djarin.”

“Mir’sheb.” Din snarled and Paz laughed in response. Ragnar tugged on his father’s arm before pointing off to the side. Paz nodded, telling him to be cautious, before the boy ran off to play with a group of kids down the street.

Bo chuckled. “I didn’t realize this was the beginning of a love triangle. Interesting.”

“It isn’t.” Din said.

Paz tilted his head and crossed his arms. “I’m unaware of Soran being in possession of a token of intention.”

“I’m working on it.” Din said through clenched teeth.

“Perhaps, I’ll work on it faster.”

Din knew Paz was just trying to get under his skin. Part of his frustration was the fact that it was working. His hands drifted to rest on his hips as he clenched and unclenched his jaw. Paz was smug. Din had known him long enough to recognize the set of his shoulders. 

“I’m⏤” Din began then cleared his throat. “I’m giving her time.”

“You’re wasting her time.” Paz argued with a chuckle. “Wero’ika⏤”

“Don’t call her that like you know her.” Din cut in. “A lot just happened. I’m not going to rush her into anything.”

He glanced from Paz to Bo then back to Paz. Din gave the man a gruff good-bye before pushing past the two of them to head into the clinic. He greeted Miriam at the front desk. Before he could cross the threshold into the main room, the young woman caught his attention and let him know that you were down the hall instead. Din furrowed his brow in confusion, but walked down to find you sitting in the break room snipping the sutures off a patient’s wound.

“Marshal.” The patient greeted with a nod that Din returned.

Grogu was playing with a latex glove on the counter while you worked. You shot him a smile before focusing back on your work. Din settled beside his son, leaning against the counter, and just admired you with a sense of calm. He wondered if Paz was right. Not a line he’d ever say out loud, but Din wondered if he was just finding another excuse to hide behind. He wasn’t sure what he was so afraid of. You’ve made your interest in him very clear, the two of you shared a bond like he’d never experienced before, but still he hesitated.

“Alright, it looks good. No need to restrict yourself, but if it starts bothering you again just let me know.” You smiled. The patient thanked you, gave him a final good-bye, then left. You wandered over to where he stood with Grogu and began to wash your hands in the sink. “Hey, so your brother seems cool.”

Din grunted. “Who Paz?”

“Yeah.” You turned the faucet off and grabbed a few paper towels. “I thought he might not like me because I yelled at him during the battle.” Din’s eyes widened. He’d have to ask about that. “But instead I think I accidentally earned his respect? Also, what does ‘wero’ika’ mean?”

Din chuckled. “Little Problem.”

Your jaw fell open. “He’s been calling me a little problem this entire time?” Din nodded. “Son of a bitch. I’m gonna need you to teach me something amusing and mildly rude to call him in return.”

“Oh, I can think of some names for him.” Din replied. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, wanted to talk to you about something, but don’t feel any pressure with this, alright?” You quirked an eyebrow at him. Your eyes briefly glanced at Grogu and you shot your hand out to snatch the latex glove from Grogu’s mouth and wagged a finger at him. “I left to redeem myself. To restore my Creed with the plans to…” Din shifted awkwardly. “To court you.” The corner of your lips curled up. “I know a lot has happened recently, so again there is no pressure here, but I wanted to…make my intentions known.”

You reached out and wrapped your hand above his elbow, between his armor plates, and gave it a small squeeze. “Din, I appreciate your patience and concern, but I⏤ I want this. I want you.” He sucked in a sharp breath. “So, just tell me how we do this. How does Mandalorian courting work? Do I sign on the dotted line or…?”

Din laughed, in part due to relief, “No. Nothing like that. I have…” He reached to the back of his belt to unhook the blade and sheath that was once his. Din brought it around to hold out to you and you stared at the blade curiously. “In Mandalorian custom, a token of intention is given to the person being courted and to accept it means accepting those advances.” Din cleared his throat again. Maker, his mouth was dry. “Tokens are usually a weapon with the person’s signet on it.”

He pulled the blade out of the sheath enough that you were able to see the mudhorn etched into the blade’s side. Din tucked the blade back into the sheath and gave you a small nod. With a bright smile, you took the blade from his hands and he felt like his heart was going to explode in his chest watching you run your finger against the mudhorn.

You held the blade against your chest and nodded. “I accept, Mandalorian.”

Grogu began to clap his hands together and you broke out into laughter that relaxed every single bone and muscle in his body. The only regret Din had was not doing this at home where he could pull his helmet off and kiss you.

mando'a translations:

ni ceta: sorry wero'ika: little problem ner kar'ta: my heart mir'sheb: smartass

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @modiddys-blog @harriedandharassed @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition

[binkyisonline]

Thank You For Sharing by @howaboutcastiel

Rating: General Audiences

Tags: Pumkins, Domestic bliss, Fluss, Traditions, Pumpkin carving, Cute Grogu|Baby Yoda, Soft Cobb Vanth, Soft Din Djarin, Established Relationship, Din and Cobb are married, Cute, Family bonding, vacation.

Summary: Cobb wants to share his seasonal traditions with his family, and there’s no better time and place to do it than on a family vacation on Lothal. Din, Cobb, and Grogu carve pumpkins. That’s it, that’s the fic.

* * * *

I'm grateful for the opportunity to have illustrated such a sweet and comforting scene from Jonah's story, who has truly written a heart-warming sweet slice of domestic intimacy of the Djarin-Vanth clan ❤

Thanks again to @staranon95 and @cryptids-and-starlight for having created this event!

[crumbledcastle28]

Din Djarin: Languid

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her; afab)

Excerpt: “Can we do this now?” he asked, resting his nose against your cheek. His breaths coated your face. “Please?”

You smiled, burying your hands in his hair. Your eyes drifted closed in bliss. “Yes, Din. I want you. Right now.”

He kissed your cheek and placed your hands back on his armor. “Please get this off of me, and please keep me awake.”

And you did.

Warnings: sleepy, love-filled sex between a married couple. Wife!reader, grogu’s asleep, unprotected sex, mostly just kissing and feeling up. NOT breeding kink. A bit of cockwarming.

A/N: Once again, Happy Dincember everyone. I cannot explain how grateful I am for almost 3,000 followers without crying.

If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be much appreciated :)

Pedro Masterlist

(GIF from Pinterest)

The familiar scuff of his boots on the Crest floor pulled you from REM sleep into barely languid, and the heat of your body from the cot’s covers warmed just so.

Your riduur was home.

Due to how out of it you were, it took you a few moments to realize that no, this wasn’t a dream. This was real. The two-day mission turned five, turned seven, turned nine, turned twelve was finally over, and your numb body somehow found the strength to prop itself up and drape yourself with the blankets.

You sat like that, all wrapped up in your cocoon, smiling to yourself with your eyes closed, for a few moments. You then stood up slowly, taking the blankets with you, and squinted your way out of the bedroom. Your eyes were no wider than slits, and you thanked the maker for muscle memory.

You swallowed the sleep from your mouth and rounded the corner, feeling your muscles ache with stretch, still in a daze. Your head was beginning to swim with dopamine, and with one last yawn, you made it to the cock pit.

The sight before you halted you instantly.

There was your husband, wrapped in wealth and impenetrable metal, leaning over Grogu’s tiny bassinet. He must have gotten fussy when Din opened the airlock, and Din had immediately taken care of it.

You’d have to thank him for that later.

He sat Grogu up, patting his back, and fed him small bites of maple bar. His favorite.

“That’s it buddy,” he whispered. “Swallow. There ya go.”

You stood and watched this encounter, soaking it in. It was moments like this that you missed the most when he was gone—moments so domiciliary and domesticated that they etched into your heart implicitly. These moments were so wrapped in rarity that you could not even daydream about them or yearn for them, because you didn’t even know they existed. Like watching a Mandalorian brush his teeth, or chop an onion, or change the sheets, or breathe at night. They were the memories you would recall when you were old and graying, unable to describe them in a way that did them justice.

You wrapped yourself tighter in the blankets, just watching and basking in the glow of it. Eventually Din laid Grogu down, tucking him in, and traced his face with his leather-bound glove.

“Goodnight buddy,” he whispered, and turned to you.

You looked up at him in all his sheathing, and smiled.

“Hi,” you whispered.

“Hi,” he whispered back. He smelled of metal and woods with a hint of gunpowder. In the nearly pitch black of the room his shoulders still appeared as broad as ever, his armor was caked in mud, and his weapons belt hung a noticeable amount lower than usual.

You took a moment to soak in the fact that you would look at him like this for the rest of your life.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he said, moving closer to you.

“You didn’t,” you replied, “your boots did.”

His chuckle underneath the modulator was nothing like it was out of it, but it was enough to bring you home.

“You know I like being up for you when you get back,” you said, looking up higher at him as he came closer and closer. The warmth of the blankets and increased blood flow were not the only things warming your insides now. “Let me be your docile, obedient wife for once.”

You could feel the smirk on his face. “Yes. Obedient and docile, perfect for you.”

He made it to you, wrapping his hands around your waist. Your hands laid on top of his cooled beskar chest and chills etched up your spine as you looked up at him with a smile.

He pressed his forehead firmly against your own. The smell of forest and frost on him engulfed you. “My wife is none of those things.”

You hummed. “No, she isn’t.”

He began slowly walking you backwards into the bedroom, as if you were swaying in a dance, and your hands crept up to his helmet.

“Why didn’t you wake me up when the kid was fussy? I could have taken care of him.”

His gloved hands trailed up your back and the exhaustion in his voice was present. “I missed him. Wanted to take care of him.”

You smiled and pressed a kiss to his visor, tasting a mix of ice and salt that burned your chapped lips. “Okay.”

The back of your knees hit the bed frame and you stopped, creeping your hands underneath Din’s helmet.

“If you take this thing off me I’m not going to be able to keep my mouth off you.”

He said it so nonchalantly, as if that was a normal thing to say, and the fatigue of his voice and body language liquified you even more. Your still drowsy state was not helping matters.

You felt euphoric, in a perfect state of conscious and unconscious, like you were still in a dream. It was paradise.

“That’s exactly what I had in mind,” you said, removing the sheets wrapped around you. You let them fall onto the bed before reaching back up for him, slowly rising the helmet off of his head. The familiar hiss coated your ears as it rose, and the chocolate eyes that were yours forever met your own.

He smiled in the dark, illuminated by the moon. He brought his mouth inches away from yours, breathing in your breaths. “Hi.”

“Hi,” you responded, and he kissed you.

Immediately, the taste and feel of him washing over you threatened to crumble you to the floor. Din hands on your waist were the only things keeping you upright.

He kept you standing like it was nothing.

He kissed you slowly and deeply, taking his sweet time tasting you again. Your hands worked their way up his body, tracing his beskar all the way up to his hair. Your tongue met his at the same moment your nails scratched his scalp, and he pulled away from you to groan.

“Can we do this now?” he asked, resting his nose against your cheek. His breaths coated your face. “Please?”

You smiled, burying your hands in his hair. Your eyes drifted closed in bliss. “Yes, Din. I want you. Right now.”

He kissed your cheek and placed your hands back on his armor. “Please get this off of me, and please keep me awake.”

And you did.

Piece by piece, you disrobed the Mandalorian from his beskar down to complete nudity, watching his eyes open and close as he began to drift to sleep as he stood. A few times you had to lean him onto you to prevent him from falling, and he kissed around your pulse point every time. Whispering gibberish.

Finally you squatted down to remove his boots, and just like that, he was naked in front of you. His purple under-eyes stood out in the moonlight, as well as a new scar across his abdomen. Your irises coated in worry, reaching up to feel it, but he stopped you.

“Tomorrow,” he said, kissing you more passionately than he had all night. “Tomorrow.”

Then he disrobed you.

The rough skin on his hands tracing you lit you on fire, boiling you enough to keep you conscious. He was the slowest with your panties, pulling them down your thighs like an art form. You scratched your nails down his warm back, and that seemed to speed him up.

As soon as the fabric hit the floor Din lifted you into his arms, laying you down flat on the cot before crawling overtop of you.

“Din, you’re tired, I can—”

“No,” he said, burying his head in your neck. “Wanna be close to you.”

You couldn’t say no to that.

He took the sheets you had discarded and covered them over the two of you. You could see nothing else but him, and you were completely surrounded by the scent and warmth of his skin.

“Maker I missed you so badly,” he said before kissing you hard enough to make you whine. You pulled him as close to you as possible, tracing his body as he kissed and kissed and kissed you, memorizing your mouth. The passion and heat in you were rising, and with one trace down his haired chest with your nail, he pulled away. He traced his hands over your face, pushing your hair away to see you fully. You traced his face too, noticing his scruff had turned into a full beard.

You always liked that look on him.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “My Y/N.” He spoke as if you were unbelievable

“I’m right here,” you responded, holding his face in your hands.

“I just want to be inside of you,” he whispered, almost pathetically. “Can we just skip to that part?”

You smiled, laughing loudly, and kissed him quickly. “Yes.”

He huffed a laugh and kissed you again, nice and slow, like he had been the whole night.

He kissed you and felt you for so long that you didn’t know if he would make it. His movements slowed and slowed as he went on, touching you and tracing you so meticulously it was like he was painting you from nothing.

Finally, with a firm kiss to your jawline, he entered you tortuously. You exhaled in pure pleasure, and your body threatened to rapture already.

He was a dream come true.

Din halted when he was as deep as he could go and tucked his head into your neck. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar’ika riduur.”

You kissed the side of his head. “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, adol akaan.”

And that’s when he started to move.

As he moved in and out, in and out, in and out, dragging each thrust on and on to feel every inch of your folds. He felt all around you, re-memorizing you; how you skin felt, how your body had changed, and the exact rhythm of your heart.

Tears spilled from your eyes as he moved, and you moaned his name over and over, grateful for the return of it in your tongue.

“Keep—keep doing that, saying my name,” he said as he moved. “Almost forgot I had it.”

You repeated it over and over again, clenching around Din when he began to shake. He swirled his shaking fingers around your clit, and with one last clench, the both of you went.

The covers above your heads did little to hide the sound of your synchronization, and it was then that you really started to drift. Din was so warm inside you—filling you up completely—and his body had you trapped in a cave of sheets and serenity. You were perfectly satisfied with your husband safe and sound in your arms, and your body began to fail you.

You felt Din prop himself up and press kisses around your face and your mouth, and your lips tingled with the intensity of it all. He rubbed his nose against yours and pecked your lips before laying back on top of you, pulling the covers raised above his head off as he did. You were hit with fresh air, and were inches away from bliss before Din whispered one last thing in your ear.

“Goodnight, docile and obedient wife.”

You drifted off with a smile.

None of this was a dream. This was real.

Your riduur was home.

Mando’a Translations:

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyar’ika riduur: I love you/ I will know you forever, my sweet wife.

Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, adol akaan: I love you/ I will know you forever, even through war.

Tag list: (I apologize if your tag is not working/not added. Let me know if you’d like to be added!!)

@leahkenobi

@cityofidek @burned-dorito @tiredbuthappy @punkiwiki @lovesbiggerthanpride @darth-voder @samanthacookieone @torchbearerkyle @stardust-galaxies @c4psicles-blog @joelsflannel l @mysun-n-stars @tateelii @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @martinsmomo @letaliabane @cathenan @big-ol-boat @niiight-dreamerr @jezebel1945 @call-me-doll-face @yelyahcardella @letskeepthislo-ki @misspearly1 @petals-opento-the-moon @just-a-sewer-goblin @em---r @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @l0calgoth @thesmutslut @alastorhazbin @grincheveryday @reader8679 @torchbearerkyle @stardust-galaxies @c4psicles-blog @joelsflannel @mysun-n-stars @tateelii @darth-voder @kirsteng42 @leithatnight @arson-tm @cockscombkingdom

@lexloon @pauphs

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty eight : a place for us

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ☆ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 8.4k

summary : the not so secret happily ever after.

warnings: language, fluff, mild angst, pregnancy, smut, din has a lot of insecurities, they're having a couple of problems but the biggest one is lack of communication, breeding kink, pregnancy sex, oral f!recieving, p in v sex, masturbation, creampie, come eating, din comes really fast but it's sweet, nongraphic childbirth, domestic bliss, ro making things up about star wars lore

a/n: this is it my loves, i truly hope that this is the ending people wanted. i'm extremely happy with it and i'm extremely emotional so im gonna go sit down lmao.

☆

You’d spent the better half of the day trying to get on top of him. 

Every time you managed to get close he’d simply set you down on the nearest surface with a kiss on the cheek and go back to doing whatever he was working on. 

You haven’t had sex. 

Not since everything happened. 

You’ve tried, a few times but it never seemed right, you always asked if you could stop, opting to just lay together instead. You were making yourself sick with worry that he was unsatisfied so you took a day off from the meetings and the royal duties to just stay in the cabin and watch him work. 

You just want to do something nice for him. 

He does everything. 

He cooks your meals, he rubs your feet, he spends his entire day working, he’s nearly tripling the cabin in size, and he does it all on one leg. 

Well, not technically on one leg, he has the prosthetic but still. He hobbles with no complaints around the house and all you do is sit all day in the castle, talking. 

So you try. All day. 

Until the two of you are getting ready for bed.  

“Come on. Seriously, I'm fine.” You put your hands on his shoulders as he got into bed beside you. 

“Stop trying to seduce me.” He kisses your temple, rolling you onto your side as he fills in the space behind you. “You don’t need to force it.” He lifts his bottom half onto the bed, carefully removing the steel leg, setting it onto the floor next to him. One of the only pieces of his Mandalorian days he chose to keep. He had all of his armor melted down, save for his helmet, some of it was forged into a new leg, but the majority was given to the foundlings. 

“I’m serious! I’m in the mood.” You aren’t and he knows it, so any efforts to roll over and face him are stopped as he wraps his arms around you, one hand resting protectively over your stomach. 

“You’re not.” 

“I’m desperate for it.” You whine loudly but he only laughs, his nose bumping against the back of your neck. 

“Go to sleep.” You can hear the grin in his voice. 

You wait a moment in the silence.

“Are you sure?” You start trying to turn again. 

“I swear to the Maker-”

“Okay! Sorry!” 

Maybe it was hormones, or maybe it was just everything that had happened. But during your first trimester no matter how hard you tried you just couldn’t seem to find the energy to be physical with him. It was as if your libido vanished entirely. You tried several times but he always just kissed your forehead and told you to relax. 

“You’ve given me everything I have ever wanted, I need nothing else from you.” He laughs against your spine as he kisses you there. 

“You’re sure?” 

“What do I have to do to prove to you that I’m fine?” 

“Let me take care of you…” You whine, trying to push back against him as he holds you in place.

“Stop worrying about me.” He continues to chuckle, hot against your skin as he kisses your cheek before pulling the quilt up over you both, it only takes a few minutes for him to start snoring behind you. 

☆

You want to completely disassemble the monarchy.

Din wants you to be as relaxed as possible during your pregnancy. 

Neither one of you has been getting what you want. Turns out being queen doesn’t mean you can do whatever you want, there are limits, limits that have you arguing with your dearly departed husband's family most days. 

You spend the better part of the next month in and out of the throne room, looking down at the table Kodo’s family set up below the throne. You argue over everything, you want to destroy everything that they stand for and obviously they don’t agree. 

So you have to compromise. 

At the end of the day it ends up being better than nothing. 

The royal family no longer has any political power over Naboo citizens, but they get to keep their titles, including your own. They’re ceremonial now. 

The royal family can no longer collect taxes from the people but they get to keep all their funds currently in the vaults. 

The people get to vote in new leaders but the royal family gets to have automatic representation on the council. 

It’s a give and take but when you finally get a chance to walk through the city with Din the people look happy and you can’t help but feel a rush of pride at the little changes. The little smiles you see every now and then, the way people stop to talk to each other, the way people look at you. 

It’s different.

It’s happier, it feels safer. 

It makes spending your first trimester with the Harand’s completely worth it. 

And it’s a good thing you came to an agreement and got everything sorted out when you did because you don’t want to get out of bed most days during your second trimester. 

You feel great, no more nausea and your energies even up. 

You’re just so kriffing horny. 

Morning, noon, and night. 

Din’s finished the added rooms in the cabin so you’re both tasked with getting everything in order in your own room and in the nursery but you don’t let him get much done. 

If you had any worries about leaving him unsatisfied those first few months they’re gone after the first week of your second trimester, you’re more than making up for it. You’re actually worried about him keeping up with you. 

Of course having a bed you love helps. It was the first thing Din made when he started working on the cabin. A bed that wasn’t too big but fit you both perfectly, and you make sure to put it to good use. 

It came on suddenly in the last week of your first trimester. 

You had woken up early one morning craving something you hadn’t wanted in quite some time. So you rolled over, tracing a finger along his bare chest until his eyes fluttered open, his breath hitching as he gave you a sleepy smile. 

“Morning.” His voice in the mornings always reminded you of how he used to sound through the modulator, low and raspy. 

“Good morning.” You whispered back, letting your hand drag down his stomach until he stopped you, kissing your forehead, you shuffled towards him, feeling his cock hardening against your hip. You furrow your brow in confusion as he starts getting up. “Is something wrong?”

“You don’t need to force it for my sake.” You know he isn’t upset, he’s never voiced concerns about your sex life but he’s convinced himself that you just don’t have a sex drive right now. When in reality you’ve woken up almost painfully needy. 

“Din-“ You start, reaching towards him. 

“Sarad.” He took your hand in his as he situated his leg. 

“Do you still want me?” You won’t be upset if he says no, after all you haven’t wanted him very much recently. 

“Always. But I’m not gonna let you pretend for my sake. Your hormones are different now, maybe after the baby is born you’ll feel a little different, if not, I’ll still be sleeping here next to you every single night. Nothing’s gonna change that.” 

“But-“

“I’m gonna take a shower.” He kissed your hand and left the room, leaving you hot between your thighs and suddenly worried that he’d never believe you were ready. 

You had brushed him off and been clearly uncomfortable often enough now that he had resigned himself to making no more attempts. 

He took a lot of showers. 

And you could pretend you didn’t hear him groaning your name through the door but it still sent a pang of guilt through you that no amount of reassurance could change. 

You hear the water turn on as you lay back in bed with a frustrated sigh. 

You have the galaxy's most devoted husband, you could tell him you never wanted to touch him again and he’d never ask why. He’d simply love you from a little further away, and you love him with all of your heart for that but in that moment you just wanted to be fucked. 

So you rolled over and stuck your hand in your nightstand drawer, searching for the cold metal of the vibrator you’d bought ages ago. When you finally found it you experimentally tested the buttons, grinning when you realized it still worked. You set up some pillows against the headboard to lean against them, bending your legs at the knee as you reach under your nightgown, finding your thighs sticky, your panties doing nothing to contain the arousal coursing through you. 

For a second you’re worried you’ve forgotten how to do it but the moment you switch on the toy it’s like riding a bike. The motions, the patterns, all of it comes rushing back and in just a few shakey breathes you're already on edge. 

You can hear him over the buzzing, you hear a few thuds, closing your eyes you imagine him on the other side of the wall. 

Without his helmet.

You haven’t been able to think about him like that since he abandoned his creed, now it’s all you can think about. 

His hand up against the tile, steadying him. The other wrapped around that pretty cock of his. You turn up the vibrator as you picture the water cascading down his skin, making his curls straighten out as he pulls back his foreskin, his pretty pink tip’s probably leaking down his shaft. 

“Din-” You whisper to yourself, focusing on the grunt you can hear faintly followed by the strained sound of your name. Your stomach tightens. His eyes are probably squeezed tightly shut, creasing in the corners as he sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “Din, please.”

“Kriff.” He hisses out loud enough for you to hear clear as day. 

You hear him stifle a moan, is he biting his own hand? You decide it’s for the best that you do that now as well, covering your mouth with your palm. You chase the tightening in your stomach, dipping the toy into the wetness pooling at your entrance and back up to your clit. You’re so focused on getting off that it barely even registers when the water turns off in the other room.

“Fuck-” You whine softly, turning it up one more setting.

You open your eyes when the door creaks open, Din stepping back into the bedroom with a towel held loosely around his waist. You squeeze your thighs together, your eyes watering as a gasp is forced out of your stomach, your body convulsing briefly. 

Maker, you’re more pent up than you thought. 

You wet your lips with your tongue as his grip on the towel tightens, his eyes go wider than you’ve ever seen them and he coughs. 

“M’gonna go make breakfast.” He manages to mumble out as the tips of his ears burn up, he gets dressed rather hastily before rushing out of the room.

When you go to the dresser to find something to wear you pick something that rides up on your stomach. You don’t really have a bump yet, Din insists that he can tell, often kissing you just above your belly button when he does but you don’t really notice a difference. 

You meander out into the kitchen, already having to yank down the front of your top. 

Maker, maybe you are showing. 

You innocently look through the conservator as he sets the table, frowning as he pouts himself a mug of caf. You’ve been wanting some for weeks but he won’t let you have so much as a sip. 

“I think I’m gonna make some cinnamon rolls tonight.” You sit down at the table as he sets a plate of buttered bread with meat and eggs. 

“That sounds lovely.” He kisses the top of your head, bringing you a glass of juice and a few vitamins before sitting beside you. “Do you need me to go into the city and get anything for you?”

“No, I think I’ve got everything I need. What are you doing today?” 

“House work. I need to fix a few things and install the heaters, it’s gonna be cold when the baby gets here.” You’re rather excited for winter, you haven’t seen snow since you left Hoth. It’s already started to chill outside. Naboo has long autumns and you aren’t due until the winter. 

“Do you need any help with that?” You ask as you take a bite of the rich dense bread, already knowing the answer. 

“No, you just relax today.”  Ever since you finished all your royal business Din hasn’t let you do any work around the house. 

“I got that package from Elaine a few days ago, I could finally unpack everything.” You nod towards the crate in the living room and he’s already shaking his head. 

“I can do that when I finish up the heat-“

“I can’t just sit around all day everyday.” You point your fork at him as he gives you an apologetic look. 

“You could if you wanted to.” He says hopefully before you flick a piece of sausage at him. He easily catches it out of the air, popping it into his mouth. 

“Oh and we should have sex tonight.” You try to say it as casually as possible but he immediately chokes on his food, coughing briefly before clearing his throat and taking a sip from his mug. 

“Mesh’la, how many times do I have to tell you not to worry about that.” 

“It’s not for your sake, it’s for mine.” You’re not even halfway done with your breakfast as he takes his last bite. Quickly standing and rushing his dishes to the sink. 

“We’ll talk about it later, I gotta get started on some stuff.” He’s walking around you carefully, avoiding your angry glare as he makes a hasty escape towards the third bedroom. 

“If you don’t listen to me I’m not letting you pick the middle name!” You yell after him but all you get in return is a muffled chuckle. 

You finish your breakfast, taking your time as you chew, feeling rather frustrated despite the orgasm you already gave yourself less than an hour ago. 

The third room is currently your makeshift laundry room, you keep anything that doesn’t have a proper place in there. Currently Din is fixing the window in there so you take it upon yourself to do a load of laundry. You empty the washer, filling it again as you turn on both machines. 

“Mind if I watch you for a bit?” You smile at him as he nods, wiping a bead of sweat from his hairline. You take the opportunity to hop up on the dryer when he turns back to his work. 

You close your eyes, letting your head roll to the side a bit as you lean forward. You smile to yourself, a wave of deja vu washes over you as you think of everytime you’ve teased him prior. You get lost in the memory of the two of you in the library, you briefly forget your goal entirely as you rock yourself back and forth, humming softly to yourself. 

Your thoughts eventually drift to how he had touched you that night and when you finally come to your senses your face is hot as your fingers grip your thighs. When you look at din he’s staring at you slack jawed.

He clears his throat, his face going red as he quickly goes back to work, finishing up quickly before getting ready to leave. 

“Help me down?” You hold your arms out to him and you swear he gulps as he steps over the laundry basket to grab you under your arms, setting you down. 

“All good?” His voice is strained as he watches you nod. 

“Perfect.” 

Except it isn’t perfect. 

The bastard remained unconvinced. 

And you remain frustrated out of your mind. 

He takes a break after installing the heating system, when he sits on the sofa, sipping a glass of water you take it upon yourself to finally go through the baby clothes Elaine sent you. The large crate is marked with a calligraphed L&E. You carefully break open the top, opening the envelope placed on top of the many fabrics. You can’t help but smile when you see who it’s addressed to. 

Princess,

Is it still princess? ‘Queen’ seems like a bit much, although you should have seen the High Magistrates' face when we told him the Mandalorian married royalty. 

He wants to visit when the little one is born but unfortunately we won’t be joining him. Elaine’s a bit sensitive to the cold but we’ll see you when it warms up. She’s terribly excited to be a godmother, even if she doesn’t show it. When Din told her the sex she started sewing immediately. Took two weeks for her to make all this, you can expect more soon. She can’t seem to help herself, our house is full of tiny socks and hats. 

The shop’s doing well. Karga alone buys enough clothes to keep us in business but things are good. I still don’t know how Elaine sews as much as she does or as well as she does but she hasn’t slowed down since we moved. 

She misses you, even if she acts all tough about it. I miss you too, we’ll visit as soon as it’s spring. 

Send pictures of the nursery when it’s finished. 

Love, Lysa 

You look down at the contents and are taken aback at the sheer amount of baby clothes you’re faced with. You grab the first thing that catches your eye, little green overalls. 

“Oh my gods.” You hold them up for him to see. Din’s gaze goes soft as he stares at the fabric. He slides off the sofa to sit on the floor beside you, taking them as you begin looking through the rest of the clothes. 

“Are you sure he’s gonna fit in these? They look small.” He holds the overalls in front of his face as you fish out a handful of striped socks. 

“That’s how big newborns are, my love. He’s gonna be small.” You unfold a large patchwork quilt, marveling at the craftsman ship as Din gives you a skeptical look. 

“These are just so… tiny.” You laugh a bit at the sudden anxiety in his voice. 

“I thought Grogu was a baby? You should know how small babies are, how old was he when you found him?”

“Fifty.” You shove his arm. 

“Funny.” You stop laughing the second you find a little gray hat with black yarn patterns. “Maker, you’re gonna die when you see this.” You flip it around in your hands, showing him the mock design of his helmet, the thin cross of his visor. 

“No kriffing way.” He takes it from you as you fight off a grin. 

☆

When you’ve finished going through everything Din packs it all back up, taking it to the nursery as you bake, simultaneously trying to think of different ways to seduce your riduur. 

You shoo him away when he tries to help, eventually he settles on sitting on the couch. Reading from where he can see you. 

You’re strongly considering just getting “stuck” in the washer and calling him to help you, you’re pretty sure you saw that in a holo at one point. 

By the time you finish baking you still have nothing, taking them out of the oven and icing them before placing one on a plate and making your way over to him. You pull yourself up into his lap, gently taking his book and setting it down beside you. 

“Mesh’la.” He says in a stern tone, his voice wavers a bit as he struggles to keep his composure. 

“I thought you like my baking?” You pout and somehow he falls for it. 

Pregnancy has made him even more infatuated with you, if that’s even possible. He’s somehow more gentle with you than ever before. 

“Of course I do.” He mumbles sweetly, leaning forward to kiss your cheek. You tear off a chunk of the pastry, something you’ve done before, and bring it to his lips.

“Open.” You say sternly and he immediately does, letting you feed him. If it’s possible for a man to be both extremely relaxed and extremely stressed out then that’s what Din currently is. 

You stay in his lap.

Feeding him until the plate is empty, he even licks your fingers clean and you’re so mesmerized by the plush softness of his mouth that you can’t help yourself.

You fall forward into him, and he flinches. 

He never flinches. 

You immediately back up, crawling off his lap as you give him a look of concern, trying to figure out if you’ve hurt him. 

“I’m- I’m sorry.” He swallows, avoiding eye contact. 

“Don’t be sorry.” You whisper it, leaning forward, resting your head on his shoulder, he takes your hand in yours. 

“I just- I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this for me.” 

“Why are you so insistent that I don’t want you?” You finally just tear the band aid off. 

Silence.

Briefly, you know he’s deciding if he should say it or not. 

“You stopped wanting to have sex when I took the helmet off.” He blurts out and you nearly fall off the couch at the absurdity of his reasoning. 

“Din that has noth-“

“And it’s fine. There’s no reason for you to pretend to be attracted to me just for the sake of my ego. You can love me without loving,” He gestures at himself. “this.”

It makes you want to cry. 

To think that he thought you were withholding your affections because you didn’t like how he looked. It makes you even more upset to know that he was okay with that, he was willing to live a life believing that to be true and simply never touch you like that again. 

“Look, I still have the helmet, we’re going to make this work.” He whispers. His leg bounces up and down until he suddenly stands. “Give me a minute?” He’s already headed for the door. You sit there, a little stunned.

You decide to give him space, you can talk when he comes to bed. You dress in a thin brown camisole and green panties, you try to make yourself look nice, hoping maybe he’ll relax at the sight of it but based on the look he gives you when he comes into the bedroom you’re a little worried it’s having the opposite effect. 

“I love you and-” You start but he just collapses into bed next to you.

“Please- mesh’la I can’t, this torment is unbearable.” His hands clutch the fabric of your clothes, his fingers trembling. “You’re making this extremely difficult for me.” He’s downright flushed as he pleads with you. 

“I won’t stop until you believe me.” You insist further as he sinks his eyes into you, his pupils swollen and frantically searching your face as he swallows loudly. “You couldn’t be more beautiful to me. It had nothing to do with you, I just- I needed a little time after everything.” You whisper sharply, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. “I’ve been waiting to wake up. I keep thinking you’re gonna disappear and I’m going to lose you all over again and none of that is your fault.” The room is quiet aside from your combined breathing. 

“Are you sure? Really sure?” He’s speaking so quietly you barely hear him as his fingertips ghost the exposed skin under the bunched up fabric of your top. 

“Look, I’m not going to force you to touch me, but I don’t know how else to get my point across and if you really want me to stop all of this then I will-“

“Don’t stop.” He whispers, barely audibly as his hands hold your face, lips pressed to yours. Your head falls back into the pillows as his mouth immediately makes a beeline south, kissing your sternum, you tangle your fingers in his hair, pulling him back up. “Please- I wanna taste-” He downright whines as you pull his bottom lip between your teeth.

“After.” You pant into his mouth. “I can’t wait, I need you.” 

You do, terribly. 

You guide his hand between your legs and his fingers push your panties to the side in an instant, his mouth falls open in a silent moan as he feels the wetness there. He eases a finger into you as you whine impatiently. “I don’t wanna wait-” You reach down to grab at his wrist but he just kisses you again to silence you.

“I don’t wanna hurt you.” He mumbles, he listens to an extent, pushing in a second finger. The stretch is delicious. You feel like your skin is on fire as you try to push yourself further onto his hand. 

“I don’t care, please Din I need you so bad. I need your cock.” Your brain is foggy, you're so turned on right now, you’d do anything to feel him inside you. 

He nods, shoving his trousers down and pulling his shirt up over his head as you squirm out of your own clothing. Almost immediately he looks overwhelmed, his eyes don’t know where to settle as they make their way down your body. Finally he swallows, taking his cock in hand, tip pink and pretty as he strokes himself so you can see how he’s already leaking, just for you. 

He eases himself into you, slow and steady as you try to stay still. It’s all too much, his thick length pressing deeper and deeper into you until you’re both gasping, forehead to forehead with him fully seated within your heat. 

“Okay?” He manages to spit the words out despite the way his chest heaves as you nod. 

“Din fuck me please I can take it.” You plead with him, he looks skeptical so you rock your own hips, it isn’t much but it’s enough to make your eyes roll back as you nudge him deeper. 

“Look at me.” He whispers as you blink, trying to focus on the warmth in his eyes as he searches your expression for pain. 

“You’re so pretty.” You mumble out. He looks a little surprised by the sentiment, his tongue poking out between his lips as he looks at you. 

Has anyone ever told him that? 

“Thank you.” Is the last thing he says before slamming his hips forwards, the head of his cock bumping against your cervix. His thrusts are erratic and needy as he watches your face intently. He’s so worked up and it’s been so long and the combination of it all has him practically whimpering against you within minutes.

“I can’t- I- It-” He begins to stammer, his lips are wet and swollen, his eyes fight to stay open, pupils darting everywhere like he’s trying to take in as much as he possibly can as his cock pulses inside you. 

You want him to come. You want to watch him, watch his face, as he finishes. You want to see him hot and desperate just for you, you want to know that you made him feel this good after just a few minutes. 

“I wanna see, please, please Din.” You lay back, gasping with every stutter of his hips, taking in the sight as he squeezes his eyes shut. 

“I- I- kriff, love you so much.” He hisses out as his hands fist the sheets. The veins in his neck stick out as his mouth falls open, an obscene moan is ripped from him as he rocks his hips forward one last time, you can see where the two of you are connected. His cum spilling out around his length, forced out by the sheer girth of him. His breathing is staggered as he slumps forward, kissing you with a fire that you didn’t realize you missed so much.

He doesn’t kiss you nearly as much as you want before his mouth is already moving down your body, any complaints you have never make it past your lips. It feels too good when he touches you like this.

He squishes the bridge of his nose into your stomach, just below your belly button as he kisses the soft skin there. His mouth hasn’t even made its way between your legs yet and he’s moaning into your flesh, his fingers kneading the meat of your hips. 

He pushes your thighs wider apart and you swear you see him drool at the view he’s presented with. 

He looks up at you, his eyes wide and needy, waiting for permission. You nod a little too quickly and he dives into you. His tongue immediately works its way into your still dripping hole, he’s everywhere, precise and deliberate as he pushes his own seed back into you. 

“So- fucking- good-” He mumbles to himself as if you aren’t even there before flattening his tongue against your clit, it’s enough to have your thighs closing around his head, the cool metal of his hearing aids stings your flesh as you come undone. Your vision goes white as you whine, high pitched and breathy. 

He doesn’t stop for a second, eating like you’re a goddamn buffet. When you catch a glimpse of his face his jaw is slick with a combination of the two of you. His eyes are dark as your head falls back, you want so desperately to watch but it’s too much, all you can do is whimper and grip his hair. 

He wraps his lips around your clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves until you’re coming all over again. You collapse back into the pillows, already exhausted but smiling so hard your face hurts. He sits back on his ankles, lifting your legs as he kisses your calves. 

He’s perfect like this. 

Tan, scarred body on display to you in the warm lamp light. Skin covered in a thin layer of sweat that makes his hair curl and stick to his forehead. His eyes are dark as his tongue pokes out, swiping across his lips to taste the remnants of you, his cock stands proud against his stomach, already hard and aching for you once more. 

“Don’t relax just yet, I’m not done with you.” He mumbles into your tender flesh, hands grabbing your ankles as he yanks you forward, slotting himself between your legs again. 

It’s a good thing because you certainly aren’t done with him, you can’t get enough of him for the next six months. 

Further into your second trimester nothing’s changed. If anything you’re even more insatiable. If it was possible to get pregnant twice you’d have done it by now. 

You also make a point to kiss his face as much as humanly possible, you can’t help but wonder if anyone else ever has.

He likes it in a way you aren’t yet familiar with, he leans into your lips at every opportunity, eager to feel your mouth against the apples of his cheeks, the sensitive skin of his eyelids, the sharp angle of his nose, and the prickles of the stubble on his chin. 

And you are more than happy to indulge him. 

☆

The third trimester wasn’t much better but you managed to better manage your time. You went on walks, even if they were short, you’d insist on walking around the gardens or the markets whenever you could. 

You didn’t think it was possible but somehow Din’s become even more protective. If he had things his way you’d sit in the cabin all day while he stared at you from a few inches to your left. 

With that sharp protectiveness has come a silence, it takes a few days for you to notice but you realize just how quiet he’s been. It’s subtle but you know something's off. Word’s become soft arm touches, he holds you a little tighter at night and he never asks if you need help anymore, he just does everything before you can even get to it. 

It’s seemingly a couple of things. 

You know something is bothering him but he’s become sort of shy. 

When you walk the markets he’s still viewed as a member of your staff but you don’t hide things anymore. You’ll feed him by hand if you buy a snack cake, you’ll hold his arm as you walk. He’ll even kiss your forehead if the opportunity arises.   

But he’s timid. 

And it isn’t until you’re visiting Vivian that you realize what it is. You had been telling her about how hard it’s been for you to decide on a shade of green for the nursery when he had hidden his face in your hair. You had entangled your fingers in his and thought of it as nothing more than an act of affection from him but it started happening more often. 

And then it clicked.

He only ever did it after being directly addressed, when people were looking at him. You finally brought it up one night when you’d been trying to get comfortable on the couch, your protruding stomach making it exceedingly difficult. 

You’ve got two talking points to cover, the sudden shyness, and getting to the bottom of his silence, although you’ve got a sneaking suspicion as to what it’s about. 

You eventually settled with your head in his lap and your feet up on the arm rest, smiling up at him as he played with your hair. 

“You know you can wear the helmet when we go out if you want.” You finally blurt out as he gives you a confused look. 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Well I know that you still have it and you just seem a little… uncomfortable sometimes without it.”

“I thought you liked my face?” He says it with a teasing tone but it has you sitting up out of the position you struggled to find for so long.

“I love your face. But I also want you to be comfortable.” You press a long kiss into the coarse facial hair of his jaw, he’s been so busy with house work and you it’s gotten longer than you’ve ever seen or felt it. 

“I’m comfortable with you.” He turns his face, nudging his nose against your lips until you kiss him there as well. 

“I just noticed that you’ve been a little tense, especially during outings.” You tilt your head, giving him a lopsided smile as he stands, leaning down to cradle your face in his hands. 

“I’m just not used to it, cyare.” He stands, examining the space in the room. “I want to put a fireplace in before the baby comes.” He mumbles as he moves the loveseat, making space against the wall.

You seize the opportunity, might as well kill two birds with one stone. 

“Speaking of when the baby comes, I thought we were going to visit your little one at some point?” 

His shoulders stiffen up for just a moment before he shrugs.

“I guess I’ve just had other things on my mind, nerves about the baby.” He doesn’t look at you, instead he measures the space on the wall with his hands. 

“I thought you were excited to be a dad?”

“I am a dad, and I am excited.” He’s mumbling, he hasn’t talked about Grogu in ages and it’s making you worry. 

“You’ve been quiet.”

“I’m always quiet.”

“Not with me.” 

He turns and stares at you for a moment before clearing his throat. 

“I’m scared.” He sits back down beside you and you wrap your arms around him as best you can with your bump in the way.

“Of what?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugs. “I’m scared that the baby won’t like me, or that I’ll mess them up, or something like that.” It is so much easier to tell when he’s lying, now that you can see his face. You never would have thought his cheeks would get so rosy. 

He’s a natural with kids and he’s been more excited than you are for the baby, he even spends all his free time embroidering the baby’s name into their clothes. 

“Din.” You say sternly, pulling back to look at him.

He chews the inside of his cheek a bit. 

He whispers something but he’s so quiet you can’t hear him.

“Din, please.” You take his head in your hands and force him to look at you. 

“I’m scared that if we go to get Grogu he won’t want to come home with us.”

A pang of sorrow hits your heart. 

“Why wouldn’t he?”

“Maybe he’s happy there, maybe he’s forgotten all about me.” He looks hurt in a way you’ve never seen him before, if you weren’t days away from your due date you’d get on a ship and take him to his boy right now. 

“He hasn’t forgotten about you.” You take his hand. 

“You don’t know that.”

“I know you. And I know that I’d never forget you.” He still looks unsure as you stare into those sad eyes of his. “We have to at least try, it would be better to know. This baby already loves you, that’s enough of an indicator to me that Grogu feels the same.”

“You have no proof that this baby already loves me.” He finally cracks a smile at what you’re implying.

“Come here.” You lay your head back down in his lap, making a second desperate attempt to get comfortable. You grab his hand, lifting the fabric of your top until your stomach is exposed, placing his large palm over the swell of your belly. “Talk to him.” 

“What am I supposed to say?” He’s looking at you like you’re insane but you just shrug.

“You talk to him all the time.”

“Yeah but you never put me on the spot like this.” With his freehand he rubs the back of his neck. 

“Just do it.” He takes a deep breath, his thumb rubbing small circles into your skin. 

“Hello ik’aad.” He says softly, looking up at you for approval as you nod. “I’m excited to meet you soon, little one.” You watch as the taut skin moves ever so slightly, a little kick against Din’s fingers. His eyes go wide as he sits there a little stunned, you put your hand over his. 

“He does this most of the time when you talk to him. He likes your voice.”

“What else should I tell him about?”

“Anything.” 

He smiles at you, the corners of his eyes crinkle before he smiles at your bump.

“We painted your crib today, we decided to leave the walls alone but we wanted something to be green.” He carries on excitedly as you continue to feel the little flutters within you. “And- and someday you’re going to share a room with your brother.” You smile as your little one reacts to his fathers voice, you sit up, facing him.

“No more worrying. And if you’re going to worry then I want you to tell me.” You kiss as much of his face as you can. “Okay? Do this for me, please?”

“Okay.” He nods as you give him one last kiss on the lips. 

You move to sit between his legs like you used to in the nook, you find yourself a book as he puts his hands back on your bump while you read. 

He spends the rest of the night talking to your stomach. 

☆

Arin Kuiil Djarin (Harand) was born with a full head of hair. Dark, messy curls that you could make out even through your tears when he came into this world. 

The future monarch. (A ceremonial position.) 

A screaming ball of tears in your arms, crowned king from birth. A boy everyone knew as the only son of the recently departed Kodo Harand. 

Your “royal advisor and personal guard” was beside you the entire time. Holding your hand and kissing your sweat slicked forehead as he whispered to you, telling you just how strong you were. It was one hell of a night but when the morning came suddenly you were parents to a strong, loud little boy.

Din held him first, after he cut the umbilical cord the doctor handed him to him. You watched as he cradled the tiny crying baby in his arms, shushing him softly as he rocked him. It took only a few whispers from his father before Arin calmed down, gasping faintly as Din slid into the bed next to you. You laid your head against his arm, unable to tear your eyes off of the tiny miracle.  

“Do you wanna hold him?” Din’s voice cracks as he continues to stare at him. 

You nod, a little scared about how small he is but you hold your hands out regardless as he carefully transfers him into the crook of your arm. You’re holding your breath as you look down at him. 

When he’s safe in your arms he finally opens his eyes. 

He is just a little copy of your riduur. 

Dark curious eyes scanning your face as you burst into another wave of tears.

“He’s perfect.” 

“He’s perfect.”

You both whisper at the same time, laughing softly. You hold him tightly, Din’s arms wrapped protectively around both of you. 

Your entire universe in one little medcenter bed.

☆

You go on a lot of walks.

It helps you get out of the house and people love to see Arin. Din wears a baby carrier Elaine made with the little one strapped to his chest while you hold his hand. Everyone loves to see the little king, telling you that he’s such a good baby.

People often say he looks just like his father, you always laugh and smile at your brown haired boy.

He really does.  

He acts just like his father too. Even as a baby you can see his personality shining through. He likes to fight you on a lot of things, mostly vegetables and wearing his socks, but he loves you endlessly, your little mama’s boy. You never thought you’d see the adoration from Din’s eyes in someone else's but here he is, smiling up at you like you’re the sun, just like Din.

Your son was one year old when you met your second son. (Technically your eldest.)

You had urged Din to go to him sooner but he always found excuses, finally he told you he wanted to wait until Arin was a little older. On his first birthday you finally convinced him, and your family took a trip to a planet called Ossus. 

And you met a little boy who you loved as a son from the moment you met him. 

He certainly wasn’t what you were expecting but the moment he saw Din you recognized the look in his eyes as the same look Arin gives him first thing in the morning. And from that moment on you knew he was yours. 

You couldn’t ask for sweeter boys in your life. 

You finally found your peace.

Your freedom. 

Things are a little different now but you never find a reason to be upset about it. You just learn to live with it. 

Sometimes Din has to cut up any fruits or vegetables you’re preparing for dinner because the wet slicing sound makes your heart race. 

You sleep with a lamp on because Din trembles when a room goes completely dark, when he asks why you don’t turn it off you tell him you just like having it on because you know he’ll never tell you just how afraid he was when he was trapped beneath the stone and earth. 

You wrap him in blankets when winter comes and cradle his head against your chest, desperate to keep him warm. You see the vacant look in his eyes when a chill settles in his bones. The moment you see him shiver you bundle him up and drag him to bed, warming him with gentle and precise kisses until his eyes soften up again. 

Din always wakes you up if he’s leaving the room after you’ve fallen asleep. It doesn’t matter if he’s going to the fresher or if he’s going to grab the baby and come right back. Because he knows that if he isn’t there when you wake up, you will freeze up in terror and cry softly to yourself until he returns. 

On stormy nights, when the wind blows a certain way that resembles a low wailing, Din will always find an excuse to send Lysa a transmission, asking how Elaine is doing. 

You learn to live with the little thing’s because sometimes you can’t heal completely, but you live regardless. You have reasons to endure. 

You endure for Din. 

You endure for Grogu. 

And you endure for Arin. 

Din always says he was born to love you.

You agree but that wasn’t all he was born for, he was born to be a father. 

Arin and Grogu taught you to be a mother, but Din was made for fatherhood. 

That’s what you think about, as you sit in the loveseat by the fire, book in hand. You aren’t actually reading it, you’re too busy watching the scene on the floor in front of you. Your sons peek out of the pillow fort they’ve built against the sofa, Arin covering his mouth as he holds in a giggle, staring at you with his wide brown eyes. You give him a small wave, watching as he darts back inside. 

“Are you staring at your mother, young man? Staring is very rude.” You hear Din’s voice from inside the fort, a large bump in the blanket roof where he sits. More giggles follow as he crawls back to the small entryway, you watch as he shrieks when Din drags him back into the fort, taking his place and mimicking the little boy as he stares at you.

He looks at you with a devotion that never wavers. 

“You’re my creed. Everything I have, everything I am, it’s all for you. For both of you.” 

He still tells you that often. Except now he says for all of you. 

He crawls out of the fort, his face red from exertion as he makes his way over to your chair, like he’s under some sort of spell that pulls him towards you.

“How are my girls, buir sarad?” Din’s out of breath as he grabs the armrests of the chair, caging you in as he kisses you. 

“Tired.” You grin at him as he kneels down in front of you, resting his forehead on the bump you’re cradling with your freehand. You set your book down on the end table next to you, content to watch as he knocks his nose against the strained fabric of your dress. 

“Sarad’ika.” He smiles, kissing the top of your stomach, you don’t mind losing your nickname to someone it suits more. “Let me put them to bed, I’ll be right back.” His lips turn up as he stands, looking down at the two boys with drooping eyes and mouths open in yawns.

“Go with your buir now my loves, I’ll come tuck you in in a minute.” You groan as you stand, Din scooping up both babies with ease. 

“Haav ca’nara.” Bed time. He whispers, carrying them towards the fresher, you hear the water run as he washes their little faces and brushes their teeth. 

You tidy up, folding blankets and rearranging pillows as you hear water splashing from the other room followed by a loud sigh. You stifle a laugh as you watch your boys running from the fresher down the hall towards their room, a soaking wet Din soon follows. You continue to clean, waiting until it gets quiet before making your way out of the room. You walk past the nursery, empty and waiting for its next occupant, towards the door with the faint glow of a night light. Peering in from the doorway you see all your boys in one room. 

Grogu and Arin lay in their respective beds, each is far too big for the small boys but they’ll grow into them. Grogu’s already asleep as Din kneels beside Arin’s bed, brushing a curl out of the little one's eyes. 

“Goodnight, ik’aad.” He leans down, kissing his son's face, earning a sleepy smile from the boy. 

“Night, buir.” He mumbles out, he doesn’t speak often, quiet like his father, but when he does it’s always clear. 

Din smiles, standing, kissing your cheek as he passes you, going out into the main room to lock up as you make your way to Grogu’s bedside, watching his eyes flutter as you press a kiss into his wrinkly green forehead. 

“Goodnight, my love.” You mumble before turning to Arin’s bed, sitting beside him as you watch him fight sleep, trying to keep his eyes open. “Sleep now my little love.” You murmur to him, kissing your fingertips before bringing them to his forehead. 

“Goodnight mama.” He yawns out as you watch him finally succumb to sleep. 

You leave the door open a crack, letting out another groan as you rub your stomach, Din waits for you in the dimly lit hall, holding out a hand which you happily take, letting him pull you into an embrace. 

“No more babies after this one, my back is killing me.” You give him a stern look as he brings both hands to your bump. 

“You have given me everything, I wouldn’t possibly ask for more.” He whispers. “Although I do think we could handle one more.” He raises his eyebrows at you and you can’t help but laugh.

“Fine, you carry the next one then.” You reach behind him, pushing open the door as you grab the collar of his tunic, pulling him into a kiss while you laugh against each other. 

“I love you.” He mumbles. 

“I love you too.” There is no hesitation. There hasn’t been for a long time. 

And you go to bed. 

In your perfectly sized bedroom. 

On your perfectly sized mattress. 

With your Din. 

☆

a/n : this is technically the last chapter of bks <3 :,) epilouge in one week. q&a tomorrow so send your asks with questions. all my love to everyone whos read this far.

i no longer have a tag list !! follow @lincolndjarinnotifs for updates !!

[omaano]

Never Let Me Down (Just Lead Me Home)

Summary: Din and Grogu have an annual tradition of going to the pumpkin patch and trick-or-treating. This year it will be extra special because not only will Cobb be there with them, but Din has a surprise that will bring their little found family even closer.

Tags: Modern AU, Fluff, Family Bonding, Picking Pumpkins, Corn Maze, Trick or Treating, Soft Din Djarin, Soft Cobb Vanth, Boys in Love, Protective Din Djarin, Protective Cobb Vanth, Domestic Bliss, Grogu Loves His Dads

I'm so happy I got to work on this piece for the DinCobb Mini Big Bang with @100ottersonaplanecalledgerti who wrote an amazingly sweet and cozy Fall-themed family fic for these boys ^n^ Please check it out, and let the story warm your hearts in the oncoming cold and grey weather!

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Stars Collide; Star-Crossed

Summary: Their love was an unexpected journey, a clash of two different worlds. Din Djarin, the skilled bounty hunter, and the young Jedi with a powerful heritage. Together, they embarked on a quest to protect the galaxy and one very special child, learning to trust each other and discovering a bond that transcended their differences.

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!Skywalker!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, possessive!Din, powerful!reader, Jedi!reader, Grogu being adorable, Grogu loves his Ma more than his buir.

Chapters

000. — the prologue — [As the dust settles, Din can't shake the weight of an indescribable feeling. A feeling that he's done something he can never make amends for. Little does he know, fate has plans to intervene and an unknown ally is on their way to his aid.] 001. — the force of nature — [As a bounty hunter, Din has completed his mission, however, he is unbeknownst to the storm that will knock the wind out of him, literally.] 002. — the battle for the baby — [Din and his partner fight as one, their expertise unrivaled as they battle the Imperial agents. Their unwavering determination to protect the Child drives them forward, overcoming every obstacle with fierce resolve.] 003. — the escape — [Din and his partner, along with the droid and the Child, find themselves in a tense standoff with the guild leader Greef Karga. With blasters drawn, they stand united to protect the Child at all costs.]

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[firstofficerwiggles]

Love a good Thots weekend!!

Ever since we got a glimpse of Din’s house on Nevarro I’ve been obsessed with domestic thoughts. Thinking about a little moment like Din crowding you up against the kitchen counter, pushing his nose into your cheek, and kissing that sensitive spot behind your ear. Then those big hands grabbing your hips, spinning and lifting you up on to the counter before making out and maybe a little dry humping like horny teenagers 🫠

Listen, once I stopped crying tears of joy that Din and Grogu finally have a real home of their own, I immediately started picturing all kinds of romantic little scenes of domestic bliss for Din and his spouse (aka us). After the last few years, Din deserves to enjoy himself and cuddle up with his love as much as he can. 

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Rating: T+ (18+ to be on the safe side here – no sex, but definitely some spiciness)

Mando’a words: riduur = spouse, cyare = beloved, cyar’ika = sweetheart 

You’re standing at your sink in your new kitchen, your hands full of soapy dishes as you look out the window at the sunlight on the flowers you and your husband planted the other day. A soft breeze blows in, stirring your cheerful curtains. Music floats through the air, one of your favorite tunes that makes your hips sway to the rhythm. You’re in your own bubble of happiness, enjoying the precious gift of domesticity.

Din watches you from the doorway of your small house. He’s just returned from a mission with Captain Teva where he helped break up a spice smuggling ring. Wanting to surprise you, he had let you think he had an errand to run before coming home. It was worth it, he thinks, to have this chance to see you like this so content and carefree. He’s never seen anything more beautiful.

Quietly, he slides his helmet off, placing it carefully on a table by the door. His gloves follow, leaving his hands bare. Then, using his stealthiest of steps, he sneaks up behind you. Those large hands of his close around your hips and he presses his body against yours. His nose nuzzles into your skin just behind your ear as he murmurs to you in that deep husky baritone,

“I missed you, riduur.”

You startle and gasp at first, dropping the dish you’re washing into the sink. But when you hear his voice, you melt into his embrace. His big warm body feels so good on yours, even with some of his beskar in the way.

“Din, you’re finally back,” you breathe out, so delighted to have him home.

His hands move around your waist to hug you tighter for a moment as his lips trail feather soft kisses along your neck. 

“Where’s Grogu?” you ask. Despite your worries about a dangerous mission, Din had brought your son along with him as part of his training.

“He’s visiting Grandpa Greef for the evening,” Din replies, “I thought it would be good for them to spend some time together.”

Din’s hands move over your body, softly squeezing your curves. One hand manages to find the hem of your top and he slips his hand under the fabric so he can feel the warm silkiness of your skin against his.

“How nice of Grandpa Greef,” you chuckle, “I hope he has plenty of snacks.”

Grabbing a nearby towel, you quickly dry your hands, and then turn in your husband’s arms so you can look into the handsome face of the love of your life. It still takes your breath away to see him. Those tousled curls, scruffy jaw, full lips, and warm brown eyes are the best view in the entire galaxy. Especially right now, as he looks at you with such desire you feel as though you might burst into flames on the spot.

“How did I get so lucky to find you, cyare?” you ask in wonder.

“I’m the lucky one,” he replies, “I married the prettiest, smartest, best girl in the galaxy.” 

He nudges you with his leg, shifting you away from the sink. You move with him, turning slightly. He surprises you yet again when he reaches down to hold tighter to your hips before lifting you up to sit on the counter. His hands find your knees and he gently pushes your legs open so that he can stand between them.

You reach up to play with one of the errant curls on his forehead, before caressing his temple and cheek. When your hand lands on his jaw and you lean forward, Din closes the distance between you as his lips find yours. His kiss is tender at first, his mouth moves softly over yours in a delicate dance. One of his hands is at the back of your neck and he uses it to tilt your head a bit, giving him an even better angle. As he does so, the kiss turns heated, his tongue delves into the warm cavern of your mouth and he sears his lips to yours.

You wrap your legs around his hips, tugging him closer to you. You kiss him back with equal passion, your own tongue exploring his mouth, relearning its favorite path after your time apart. Your hands tangle into the curls at the nape of his neck, your nails scratching lightly at his scalp. 

Din groans into your mouth, but doesn’t break the kiss. His hands return to your hips and he pulls you forward until there’s no space between you. He kneads your soft flesh as he grinds his hips into your core. He swallows the gasps you make as his body discovers the sensitive parts of yours.

You have to break the kiss for a moment to moan sweetly. The rush of feeling him between your legs, hard and hot, has your head spinning. You move your hips with his, seeking more friction and moaning again when he kisses your neck. 

 “Ah, Din, cyare, do you think maybe we should take this to the bedroom?” you suggest as his hands make their way under your top and across your chest.

“What’s wrong with right here?” he questions, “We have the whole house to ourselves, and I think it’s about time we take advantage of all this space.”

“But really, Din, in the kitchen?” you ask.

“Riduur, by the time we’re done, we’ll be able to look at any spot in this house and have a memory of our love.”

He says this with such determination that you swoon into him, your lips crashing into his as you kiss him fiercely. When you break apart again, you tell him,

“Yes, let’s fill this house with love.”

“We already have, cyar’ika, but I’m happy to do it again.”

Send in your thots! One more day of thot weekend!

@boomtowngirl @kavecika @becks-things @mysticalgalaxysalad @catsnkooks @starlightrows @tailorvizsla @bitchin-beskar @lilhawkeye3 @acourtofsnakes @grogusmum @buzzybeebee @deannie13 @ladykatakuri @noodlesfics @the-good-shittt @princessxkenobi @everythingyouwanted @jewfro24 @vaderthepotater @pinkiemme @laichka @elinedjarin @myeternalsin @kazthedestroyer @writeforfandoms @startrekkingaroundasgard @onabouteverything @beskarmermaid @flightlessangelwings

[samspenandsword]

The Fields of Sorgan: Din Djarin/Reader (Fem)

Summary: When Mando takes the job on Sorgan, he runs into the reality that he’s never had to take care of a baby before. Let alone a non-human baby. Luckily, the woman housing him is more than happy to help.  Pairing: Din Djarin/Reader; fem!reader with no mentions of her appearance. Rating: GEN — SFW Warnings: None — allusions to violence, small amount of language, domestic bliss, fluff, ridiculous amount of baby and child antics, topics relating to being/becoming parents (NO PREGNANCY) some angst towards the end. Word Count: 4.3k

When you and your sister-in-law Omera volunteered to house the ones who promised to help repel the attachs and raids on your village, you hadn't quite been expecting who actually came. One was a woman, tall and obviously strong with dark hair. She left quickly with Omera, Winta and her million questions bounding along right behind. But the other, the one who followed behind you with steps quieter than his armor seemingly should've allowed, was the Mandalorian. You'd never met a Mandalorian before, though you'd certainly heard of them. Even on Sorgan, you'd been told stories of the greatest warriors in the galaxy.

Mando was quiet as he followed you, weaving around the pools and paddies of krill your village farmed to brew spotchka. You lived around the outskirts of the village, closer to the treeline than anyone else. You had your small hut, and your barn, equally small. You hoped it would be enough for the warrior, but something told you he had slept in worse conditions than a small barn.

He himself was quiet, which you imagined helped him sell the whole brooding-warrior-in-beskar image he wholly embodied, but as you came back into the barn, carrying a pile of hand-stitched and woven cushions and blankets, he thanked you.

"I appreciate it."

He had a soft voice, with a mild gruffness behind the modulator. You couldn't tell if the gruffness was natural or if it was simply a result of him not talking much.

"It's no trouble, really. I appreciate everything you're doing for us. I know we weren't able to pay what a man like you would usually make."

His weight shifted a little, caught out, but you didn't allow him to feel awkward for long, disappearing once more. When you returned, only a moment later, you set down a bassinet not far from Mando's makeshift cot.

Mando's baby, or foundling, you supposed, was cute. In an ugly sort of way. You'd never seen a lifeform like him before. He was little, green, and wrinkly, with wispy hair on his head. His ears were the size of his entire body, his eyes huge and curious, and he wore clothing that could've doubled as a sack for potatoes.

You couldn't help but smile at him. "Hi, little one." At your voice, the baby cooed, raising his arms up in a clear request to be held. After a subtle nod from Mando, you obliged the baby.

"Ooh, you are a cutie, aren't you? You're going to be spoiled rotten. Are you hungry, baby? I bet you're hungry. Let me get some food for Mando and then I'll get some bone broth for you."

You soon learned that the baby was a bottomless pit when it came to food. He truly would eat all day if you and Mando let him. Thankfully, he was occupied most days by the village children, who were absolutely delighted to have the child as a playmate. He spent the days both before and after the attack running around the paddies with the other children. And came back with his insatiable appetite. You might be annoyed by it if he wasn't so damn cute.

And if you didn't have such a soft spot for his father.

You'd only referred to Mando as the child's father once, and you had seen the way he shifted. He obviously wasn't sure what to make of the term, so you'd never used it again. Eventually, in the days following the successful defense of your village, he told you how the child came to him: the bounty, the Imperial remnant, the rescue, the Guild coming after him, the Covert coming to his rescue. You weren't sure exactly why Mando was telling you everything, but you had the feeling he simply needed someone to vent to. He'd obviously never had that before, and you were happy to listen. A lot had changed for him in a simple matter of days, and he had no idea where his future would lead. But all the same, he had still helped you and your village, so you were happy to give him whatever he needed. Food, shelter, cover fire, an ear.

Childcare lessons.

It had been fairly obvious from the start that Mando had no idea how to take care of an infant, even if that baby was 50 years old. And even for you, who had helped to raise your younger siblings, there was a bit of a learning curve. The child wasn't human after all, so neither of you had been sure what was and wasn't safe for him to eat, or what would provide the best nutrients for him, and Sorgan didn't have the resources for either of you to go researching. Mando told you, with a dry sort of humor in his voice, that the child seemed happy eating everything from bone broth to live frogs. You'd grimaced.

"Let's hold off on the live frogs for now," you said. "I'm not sure all those bones are good for his digestion."

The baby was miffed every time the both of you scooped him up when he went after the frogs hopping around the paddies. But you both held firm.

But he definitely loved bath time.

He loved the splash Mando, and to blow bubbles under the water, smiling and giggling all the way. He loved when you made little swirlies in the water, and seemed genuinely upset when bath time was over. At least, until you wrapped him in a blanket warmed by the fire and let him snuggle with you.

He was a cuddler, that was for sure. Even with Mando, who was constantly covered with his beskar. The baby didn't seem to care. He simply liked being in the arms of others.

Especially you and Mando. Though he loved toddling after Winta and the other kids as well.

He was a good sleeper, too. Sometimes, he could be fussy when he was put down, but he usually fell asleep and stayed asleep.

Though there were definitely harder nights. Nights where he woke up, wailing and crying.

The first night it had happened, it had taken you a moment to realize what was happening, unused to the sound of a baby crying in your home anymore. It was a few days after the attack, and the town had been sleeping soundly for the first time in what felt like months. But as the baby continued to cry, you stood up and padded out to the barn.

Mando was kneeling at the baby's bassinet, awkwardly, shushing him like he was a too-loud droid and not a baby. Feeling a little amused, you knocked on the door slightly, announcing your presence.

The slump of Mando's shoulders either meant that he was relieved to see you, or that he was guilty the baby had woken you up.

Maybe both, but you didn't mind.

"Hi, baby," you cooed gently, padding towards the bassinet. You kept your voice soothing, gentle, warm. The baby had fat tears rolling out of his big eyes, and though you weren't sure what was wrong, you knew the baby needed to be held right now.

You just didn't think it was you he wanted to be held by at the moment.

"Go ahead, Mando. Pick him up."

He hesitated slightly, but stood and gingerly lifted the child from the bassinet. You huffed with amusement. He was holding the baby so awkwardly, like a bomb about to go off.

"Closer," you instructed, gently guiding the baby into the Mandalorian's chest, which you realized was beskar-free. For perhaps the first time since you'd met him. "Hold him closer."

You kept your hand on the baby's little back, soothingly rubbing it as he released a little hiccup and continued to cry.

"Rub his back," you said, taking Mando's hand and pressing it to where yours had just been. You kept your hand over his. It was the first time you'd seen him without gloves as well, and his skin was warm against yours. You tried not to dwell on that. "Like this. It grounds him."

Mando slowly rubbed the child's back, a little awkwardly still, but you could tell he was trying.

"Rock gently," you continued. "Just a gentle shift of your weight, side to side, with the barest bounce. Yeah, just like that."

Mando slowly rocked the baby, your hand still covering his own. Your hand had come to smooth over the child's wispy hair. Mando eased closer so you could continue more easily. You felt his proximity more keenly than you cared to admit.

You swallowed.

"Talk to him," you said next.

"About what?" Mando asked, sounding a little confused.

"Anything. Everything. Just let him hear your voice."

Slowly, and maybe a little unsurely, Mando began to talk. He was clearly unused to making idle chat, and you smiled amusedly as he began to list the specs of his ship. A Razor Crest, he said. How it was pre-Empire. The engine speed and capabilities. The weapons systems. Both spec and modified. How he'd built a chamber into the ship so he could freeze his bounties in carbonite.

Slowly, but surely, the baby began to calm down, his cries quieting to sniffles and hiccoughs, and eventually fully ceasing, his little face smushed into Mando's chest as he slept once more. Mando fell silent again too, slowly, and a little tensely, replacing the child into his bassinet. You gently tucked him in, and the baby continued to sleep soundly.

You gave Mando's arm a gentle squeeze. He didn't tense or jump at the contact for once. You tried to chalk it up to him being tired.

"Why was he like that?"

You chewed on your cheek a little, wondering how to answer.

"Children get scared, Mando. What happened a few days ago was scary. And he may not have seen everything, but children pick up on their surroundings more than you'd think. We were tense and scared, so he was too. He could've had a nightmare."

Mando was still, like he'd never considered the possibility. You squeezed his arm once more.

"I got him next time. We can take turns."

And with that, you both went back to bed.

But the next morning, things were undeniably a little different between the two of you. It became less of Mando taking care of the child while you gave tips. More of you both taking care of the baby. You ended up sewing up a quick sling for the baby so he could be with you when you woke early and made breakfast, letting Mando sleep in a little further. Or when you did laundry and mended clothes from the village. There had been one day where the baby had been particularly insistent on staying close to Mando, and it had been more than a little funny to see the baby, smiling and swinging his little arms from the sling around Mando's beskar-covered chest.

The memory of Mando's sigh still made you giggle.

You also remembered when you'd taken the baby with you as you ventured out for a hunt. As one of the only people in the village other than Omera who was proficient with firearms (your brother, her husband, had taught you both), you often brought meat and foraged plants back to the village. The baby had been strangely thrilled when you'd brought down a particularly large grinjer.

You'd chuckled at him, dropping a kiss to his little head. Traveling with a Mandalorian was going to do weird things to the child's sense of humor.

The days came and went in relative normality. And somehow, the warrior-in-beskar and his little foundling simply became part of the village. As did the former shock trooper, who you found a bit intimidating, but good-humored. Winta seemed to really like her, and Omera seemed happier and more at ease than you'd seen her in a long time. And the longer the village went with peaceful, raid-free nights, the more it seemed to settle. Children laughed and played more, the work in the paddies no longer seemed so draining, and the village simply began to feel like home again.

But a stone grew in your gut with each passing day. Because you were beginning to wake with the fear that each day would be the last you got to spend with the Mandalorian and child.

And that day soon came.

It was a nice day. The sun was shining and the sky was blue with lots of fat, fluffy clouds. It was perfectly warm with the more pleasant breeze wafting over the grass fields around your village, just before the thick trees of the forest.

You'd packed some lunch for the kid, trying (and failing) to keep him from slurping it all up in five minutes flat before he toddled off to chase some dragonflies.

You smiled, shaking your head fondly from where you sat on a well-worn, well-loved blanket. It had become the baby's favorite in the weeks he'd spent with you. He didn't want to go anywhere without it.

You were so, so conscious of the fact that Mando was sitting just beside and slightly behind you. So close you were aware of every breath he took. So close that all you had to do was lean over an inch, and your shoulder would brush against the armor on his chest.

"It's... very nice here."

Your good mood dropped. You'd been fearing, expecting this for days now. But it didn't stop the swell of disappointment in your gut. The words made you feel chilled, as if the warm midday sun had simply decided not to touch you. The fond smile that had graced your face was no longer there, replaced with something grave.

"It is."

Your voice was level. More level than Mando had ever heard it. He winced beneath his helmet. You knew where this was going, and it made you upset.

He had made you upset.

It hurt him more than he wanted to acknowledge.

"He's very happy here."

Mando's helmet tilted in the direction of the child, who paid the two of you no mind as he chased dragonflies and butterflies over the grass in your peripheral.

"He is."

There was a pregnant pause, and Mando realized you were going to force him to say what he meant. What he was thinking. What he was feeling.

You were good at that, in a way no one else he'd met was. He both loved and hated it.

"We raised some hell here a few weeks back. It's too much action for a village like yours. Word travels fast." There was a pause, as Mando swallowed and forced himself to continue, unable to meet your heavy, upset, knowing gaze. Even from behind the sanctuary of his helmet. "There are kids here. And everyone's finally happy again. I can't stay knowing it could bring more attention to your home. More danger. It's time to cycle the charts and move on."

Your throat began to tighten, and it took physical effort for you to keep your voice level when you responded. And when you did, it was still in barely more than a whisper.

"When do you want to tell him?"

The two of you looked over towards the baby, playing happily in the grass. The sight of his little mud-stained outfit, and the idea that you might not get to cuddle and hold and feed him again made your eyes sting too.

"I'm leaving him here."

You whipped your head back around, mouth falling open with shock.

"What?"

"He's happy here." Mando's voice, gruff as it usually was, contained a softness to it you'd never heard before. He almost sounded... sad.

"Mando, no -"

"I can't take him." The softness left Mando's voice, replaced with a vehemence that made it sound more solid, more organic than his modulator should've allowed. "I'm a bounty hunter, not a caregiver. You showed me that. You can take care of him better than I ever could. I track bounties for days, sometimes weeks at a time. And I'm wanted now. I can't bring him with me and knowingly put him in danger. Knowing I can't provide for him like he needs. The credits your village gave me is barely enough to cover fuel for my ship, let alone food or toys or new clothes like he needs. I —!"

Mando's voice never increased in volume, the two of you still speaking in hushed tones so as not to gain the baby's attention.

"Traveling with me..." Mando's voice was soft again, and this time you were certain of the sadness in his tone, "that's no life for a kid."

Your throat was still tight. Maker, you were upset. But you couldn't deny Mando had some good points. His lifestyle was dangerous even before he went rogue and rescued the child. And now, he would be forced to take jobs with less pay and more danger than before, now that the Guild was looking for him, thirsty for retribution. It wasn't a stable life. Not by any means.

And children needed stability. If not from a lifestyle, then from people. Mando could provide neither.

You could provide both.

But Maker, you were upset!

"It'll break his heart," you whispered. You didn't add that Mando's leaving would break yours too.

"He'll get over it. We all do."

His words made you angry this time.

"Get over what? Losing a parent? Or being abandoned."

Mando actually flinched.

"That's how he sees you, Mando," you said. Now that you'd started, you couldn't stop. "You rescued him. You saved him. You were the first positive figure in his life in who knows how long. You're as good as his parent, Mando. And he needs a parent."

Mando looked at you, gaze piercing into you. "He has a mother."

The words that once might have made your heart feel warm made you, instead, feel cold.

"He needs a father, too."

A tense silence fell between the two of you, broken only by the happy squeals of the child, some feet away. He was now digging in the dirt. Maybe looking for a worm.

Or maybe a frog to eat.

Your anger melted away as you looked back at Mando. You knew this was upsetting him as much as it was you. In the weeks he'd been in your village, you'd seen how much the warrior had grown to care for the baby. The increasing involvement in his daily routine. The way Mando cuddled him closer on bad nights, the way he spoke more, the way he helped you with bath time, even took care of the baby in the mornings to allow you more sleep. You'd seen the way he'd grown to see the child as his charge. Maybe even as his own.

Just like you had.

You scooted towards Mando, sitting as close to him as you possibly could without being in his lap. He didn't shy away from the press of your legs against his, and his gloved hands covered your own as you reached up to grip the cowl around his shoulders.

"I'm not saying this to make you feel worse, Mando. But he's not going to understand that you're doing this for his own good. All he'll know is that you left him. That is what he's going to remember, fifty years from now, when he's grown and talking and has maybe grown out of his habit of eating live frogs."

Mando's shoulders shook in a silent chuckle. A sad chuckle.

"You don't have to do this," you whispered. You clutched the fabric tighter in your fingers. "I know your Creed is important to you, and I would never ask or expect you to abandon it. But... you could stay. The village wants you to stay." You bit your lip, voice lowering until he nearly couldn't hear you. "I want you to stay."

Mando's hands squeezed your own, and ever-so-gently, leaned his helmeted forhead to yours. You exhaled shakily, blinking back the wetness in your eyes. Because even as you'd said it, you knew it simply wasn't possible.

Mando couldn't stay.

"Cyar'ika, I —" But he stopped. Because you'd stiffened. And in a blink, you'd grabbed his pistol and shot into the trees.

Mando whirled around in time to see a dark figure fall to the ground.

"Get the kid! Get back to the village!"

He grabbed his phase-pulse blaster and sprinted towards the trees. You gripped the pistol still in one hand, scooped up the scared child in the other, and ran back to the village.

Omera and the trooper, Cara, met you.

"What happened?" Cara questioned.

"There was a figure in the trees," you panted. You cuddled the baby close. You'd stared at the edges of the forest every day for your entire life. You knew what they looked like. You knew when something was different. "They had a rifle."

Cara darted towards the trees, drawing a blaster of her own.

Omera wrapped an arm around you. "Come on, let's get inside."

Mando didn't return until nearly an hour later. There was a cup of tea clutched in your hands. You'd settled the baby down for a nap. And though he'd fussed and refused, your rocking and singing had eventually lulled him into slumber. Mando stopped in the doorway before slowly approaching. Something about his posture made you feel dread.

"Bounty hunter?"

"Yes."

"Was he tracking you?"

There was a pause. "No."

Your eyes closed. "The kid?"

Mando didn't need to answer. He sat down beside you, shoulders tight with tension.

"They'll keep coming for him, won't they?" you said.

"Yes. They knew he's here."

You swallowed hard. You could not imagine what had led to someone putting a bounty out on a child.

You took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'll get his stuff."

But when you went to stand, a gloved hand stopped you.

Mando didn't say anything for a few minutes, but it was clear there was something on his mind. So you waited, squeezing the hand that held yours.

"Come with me."

The words came so suddenly and so quietly you were sure you'd imagined them. But you blinked, looking into his visor, and saw the sheepish, almost hesitant set of his shoulders.

"What?"

"Come with me." Mando stepped closer, gripping your hand more surely. "The kid can't stay here. And neither can I. The bounty hunters will keep coming. They won't stop. The pay-out for him alone, let alone both is too high. But... you were right." He squeezed your hand again. "We were both right. He needs stability. He needs a caregiver. A parent. Someone who can watch him when a bounty is too dangerous to bring him. Someone who can take care of him and my ship when a bounty takes me away for days at a time. Someone who can provide a more consistent, stable presence than me."

You were sure you looked a picture right now. You had never left your planet before. Barely ever left your village. The life of a farmer was one you had been born into, and while you had entertained the fantasy of something different in your youth, you had been forced to accept that your place was on Sorgan, in your quiet little village where everyone grew and married and farmed krill.

"I don't know anything about taking care of a ship."

"I'll teach you."

"I can't fight."

"You can shoot. You took that bounty hunter down in one shot from several meters away. And you're strong. Farming has made you strong. With some training from me, you'd be able to hold your own. You'd be able to protect yourself, and him if it came to it. And it'll come to it."

There it was, the admission that if you accepted, your life would become far more dangerous than you were used to. The recent raids on your village had been the most danger you'd ever experienced before. But for Mando, it had been just another day. And part of you still couldn't believe what you were hearing. Go with Mando? Leave Sorgan? For real?

But the young spirit in you who'd never gotten to stretch their wings or see the stars beyond Sorgan was roaring at you to accept. No matter how reckless or irresponsible it may be. You knew it'd be difficult. You knew the learning curve would be a steep one. You knew there'd likely be days where you wanted to get angry and yell and cry. Days where Mando wanted to storm off and grumble and get frustrated at having to suddenly share his space with two more people, one of them a child. You knew there'd be hard days, and maybe, maybe in the end you'd grow to regret it. Decide to leave and barter passage back to Sorgan on cargo ships and merchant vessels that came to Sorgan to pick up spotchka.

But then, Mando's words from earlier rang in your ears.

"He needs a mother."

The baby sleeping in your barn was the closest you'd ever come to having a child of your own. To being a mother. And even though it had only been a few weeks, the stinker had thoroughly worked his way into your heart. You literally couldn't imagine your life without him anymore. And you looked at the beskar-covered Mandalorian in front of you. The figure who'd come into your wet little village, armed to the teeth, and saved you all. The man who'd also wormed his way into your heart without even trying. The closest you'd come to truly falling in love.

And you knew you wouldn't regret it.

"Give me thirty minutes to pack?"

Mando touched his forehead to yours once more, squeezing your hand in his. The tense set of his shoulders relaxed into something far happier.

"You have twenty."

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[rinixo]

test my worth (in blood)

Din Djarin/Reader | 3.1k | Rated M | afab reader, no y/n, Mand’alor!Din Djarin, emotional hurt/comfort, descriptions of death, descriptions of fear, anxiety, and panic, allusions to death in childbirth, marriage proposal, Din’s POV

Having people to love makes the thought of losing them harder than he had ever experienced before.

Continuation/follow up to thrones and people and cities

a/n: this felt like it belonged more in this AU versus its own stand-alone fic, so here is a continuation of Mand’alor!Din and Scholar!Reader.

read on ao3

Though the rain was falling harder than he had ever seen before, the night was oddly silent. The only sound was those of his boots as he walked slowly down the dark hallway, and the blood rushing in his ears from the pounding of his nervous heart.

Ahead of him, a golden light flooded from a familiar doorway. He could see shadows of blurry figures in the room, hurrying back and forth. His body was telling him to go to that room, that there was where he needed to be, but every step felt like he was wading through black sludge, thick and heavy.

A breathless cry of his name made him try to hurry, his heart feeling like it was going to pound out of his chest with fear, but the hallway seemed to lengthen with every step. Cries of pain and terror began to echo out of the room as the light turned from glowing gold to a deep, bloody crimson. The cries grew louder as he got closer, and he tried to call out to her, to tell her he was almost there, but no words came out.

Then, with one last horrible, wrecked cry, all was silent.

--

Din opened his eyes to early morning light streaming in from the tall vaulted windows. A light sheen of sweat covered his body, and his heart was still pounding from the dream – the same one that had haunted his sleep for the past week.

A rustle in the bed next to him made him turn, and when he saw your face, still blissfully asleep – safe, alive – Din let out a shaky breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

Rising from his prone position, Din groaned roughly, rubbing his eyes and trying to forget the horrors his mind had inflicted on him again. The dream was different every time, but they all had the same theme – something terrible was happening to you, and it was because of him.

This most recent one – the long dark hallway, your cries of fear and pain, and the horrible flood of dark red that woke him before he could see into the room you were in – was the worst by far. The fear of experiencing them was starting to wear on him – he would lay awake until sleep finally took him, and what little sleep he did experience was restless.

After a quick jump in the refresher, Din dressed himself for the day, putting on his armor carefully as not to wake the delightful creature still peacefully asleep in his bed. He had finally convinced you to move fully into his chambers just over a month ago, and for a while it was every inch the intimate, domestic bliss he had come to crave. However, that bliss had slowly turned into dismay.

He wouldn’t call himself particularly superstitious, but something about these dreams left a cloud of dread hanging over him. The realist in him told him that it was just the stress of leading Mandalore getting to him, that these dreams didn’t actually mean anything, but there was still an edge of dread and anxiety that made his throat dry every time he thought about it. It was beginning to impact his waking hours, making him more tense and on edge than he had been in a while.

Seeing that Grogu was already awake and nowhere to be seen – no doubt already waddling his way towards the kitchens for breakfast – Din finished preparing himself for the day and slinked quietly out of the room. He felt guilty for leaving you to wake alone, but after waking from such a horrid experience he wasn’t sure if he could look into your eyes without alarming you.

The palace was still quiet in the early morning hours. Freckled light streamed in through the stained glass as Din walked slowly down the empty hallways. He had no particular destination in mind, lost in thought.

The dreams had started once he had started seriously considering broaching the topic of asking you to become one with him. Din knew he wanted to be yours and you his for the rest of this life, and all the ones to follow if he had any say in it. His clan felt complete, and when he thought of his future, you were there alongside him – making the concept of losing you even harder. His sleep was filled with visions of you being hunted, hurt – because of your connection to him.

The concept of clan, of family, was of utmost importance when it came to the creed, and he would love nothing more than to share vows with you, but he knew that it wasn’t something you just rushed into, especially for someone like you who hadn’t grown up Mandalorian. He was also not a fool and knew that eventually his clan would grow, whether it be with adopted foundlings or the children he desired you bear for him. Having people to love and potentially lose sometimes paralyzed him with fear.

The idea of you being injured or dying filled him with sorrow. How could he protect you from something like this? Dreams weren’t an enemy he could defeat with blaster fire. The only solution he could think of was to not be with you at all, and that hurt just as much as the idea of you dying.

He paused in front of a shattered window, looking out through the jeweled glass to the sun peeking through the spires of broken buildings. His vision re-focused from the outer distance to the remains of the stained glass portrayal of a helmed figure, holding a hammer.

The Armorer was someone Din respected deeply, and he still valued her counsel despite technically being higher ranked. She was one of the few people who still addressed him as ‘Din Djarin’ and not ‘Mand’alor’, something for which he was grateful. He took his role seriously, but it was nice to not feel so important all the time.

The clang of the forge echoed familiarly as he approached the corner of the royal compound the Armorer had claimed as her own. The smell of hot metal and plasma filled the air, and he found the Armorer at her workstation.

“Din Djarin,” she called out in greeting. “Come to commission another suit of armor for a foundling?” There was a tinge of well-intentioned jest in her tone. “Or perhaps a betrothal ring?”

He was surprised at her candidness. He knew his relationship with the young scholar from Naboo wasn’t a secret, but few actually brought it up in conversation, at least not to him. Even though Mandalorians were warriors, they were not immune to gossip.

“So you approve?” he asked. He supposed if he were to consider anyone living as a mentor or parental figure, it would be the former leader of their covert. Though distant, she had guided him through most of his adult life.

The Armorer paused. “My approval is not necessary, is it? You are Mand’alor.”

“I still value your input,” he pushed back gently. “And I thought Mandalorian’s didn’t use things like betrothal rings.”

“It is not unheard of,” the Armorer replied simply. Din sat on a crate, watching the master at her craft for a few comfortable seconds of pause. The Armorer could be vague at times, but he did not detect disapproval from her.

“You are troubled,” the Armorer broke the silence, not once breaking a stride in her work at the forge.

As perceptive as always, Din mused. “Yes. I come looking for guidance.”

“What is it that torments you?”

“I have been having dreams,” Din confessed. The Armorer continued to work, waiting for him to continue. Slowly, Din began to explain the visions that had been plaguing him. Talking about them still made his heart hurt, but he also found that confessing them out loud gave him some kind of odd relief.

He finished his recollection, waiting for her response. The sound of sizzling metal and clanging tools echoed through the humid air.

“You are not accustomed to being made vulnerable, Din Djarin,” the Armorer began. “You, like many other Mandalorians, have closed yourself off to the concepts of desire, love, and possession. Both for yourself, and towards those who would ask the same of you.”

“Vulnerability is an enemy. We fight, we plan, we gild ourselves in armor in order to protect ourselves from the consequences of being vulnerable. Building walls, hoping they are impenetrable to our enemies, to those that would weaken us. Your bond with the foundling Grogu started the process of breaking holes in your defenses. You chose to show vulnerability in order to save him. And now you are facing more holes, more paths.”

She dunked a red-hot piece of beskar into a cooling liquid, and steam poured into the air. For a moment she was lost in the cloud, before emerging again, a glistening piece of armor in her clamps. Turning, she faced him, and through the helmet Din knew she was staring not just at him, but through him.

“Dreams are often just dreams. If you avoid the source, they will only get worse and you will end up losing her in one way or another.” She turned back to her forge, making it clear she was returning to her craft and that she had given him what wisdom she could. “The armor of the creed served its purpose. Unveil your heart to those who can help mend it.”

--

Several hours later, Din found himself in his private hanger, doing some minor repairs on his starfighter. He had ended up here after leaving the Armorer, pondering what the wise woman had said. Having her of all people be critical of the creed hadn’t been what he had expected, but the more he thought about it, he knew that she was right.

His fears were the result of his desires breaking through the layers of emotional armor he had built up over his life. They were an attempt to protect himself from heartbreak and loss. He had thought he had known what it meant to be Mandalorian, but his journeys had shown him that what he had thought was a straight road was actually a stream pouring from a mountain spring, branching into countless other paths until it all ended up in the same oceans.

He knew what he wanted the destination to be, and how he got there was ultimately up to him. And if he had the choice, he’d like to have you there with him, at the end.

“There you are.” Your sweet, quiet voice broke through his contemplative reverie. He turned to see you standing under a stream of late afternoon sunlight, hands clasped lightly behind your back.

The sight of you still did not fail to make his heart thrum, and seeing you cloaked in the golden light made coherent thoughts leave him. “Yes,” Din stuttered.

You tilted your head, offering him a small smile. “What are you doing?”

“Just…some maintenance,” he murmured. You came up next to him, looking at the hull of his ship.

“This is your ship? It looks familiar,” you mused, running a hand softly over the shining exterior.

“I’d think so,” Din replied, thankful for the chance to talk about something mechanical. “It’s a modified N-1 starfighter. Handmade for the royal guard and personally commissioned by the Queen of Naboo.”

He watched your brows raise, lips pursed in humored interest. “How did you come by such a ship?”

Din circled around slowly, opposite his beloved on the other side. “A mechanic on Tattooine,” he explained. “I admit – I was hesitant about it at first, but this ship has treated me well so far.”

“Queen Amidala was one of our most beloved monarchs,” you pondered. “Do you know much about her?”

“No,” Din confessed. “Only that she had an eye for starcraft.”

“She was elected Queen just prior to the Clone Wars,” you continued. “And then during the conflict, she was elected Senator after the former Senator was elected to the seat of Chancellor.”

“She was known for being brave, and kind, and intelligent. She put the well-being of her people over her own safety. And she was the one who helped repair relations between the Gungans and the Naboo. Many young Naboo grow up hearing tales of her, idolizing her.”

“Did you?” Din asked. He watched you smile and shrug.

“A little. Her story always made me sad, though. It doesn’t have a happy ending.”

He watched as you examined his ship, soft hands tracing the edge of the cockpit window. You had once confessed to him that you had never learned how to fly a starship.

“Years of staring up at the stars, and yet I can’t bring myself to take myself to them. Silly, isn’t it?”

“A little,” he had replied.

You turned to look at him from where you were sitting on the edge of his bed, changing into your sleeping clothes. He teased that you should just forgo them all together as they ended up strewn across the floor by morning anyways.

“Maybe it’s subconscious,” you continued. “My way of keeping pieces of the galaxy a mystery.”

He had crawled across the span of the mattress and kissed your exposed shoulder. You smelled like the herbal soaps you loved to bathe in. A sweet mixture of floral and spice that had come to permeate his bedsheets and his daydreams. He could drown in it and would thank you for the experience.

“Do you prefer happy endings?” Din ventured. You shrugged again.

“Sure. Doesn’t everyone?”

“I suppose,” Din said flatly. “But it’s not always…realistic.”

He watched as you frowned at him through the glass. “I guess so.” Standing, you walked around the nose of the starfighter to stand near him again. The light was slowly fading as the day turned to dusk, and he allowed you to take one of his gloved hands gently in your own, a worried expression on your face.

"You have been distant, recently,” you commented softly. He let out a sigh, knowing that he needed to tell you the truth about how he was feeling. Leading you over to a workbench in the hangar, he took off his helmet and placed it down on the surface. He could vaguely make out his surly expression reflected back at him before he turned to face you again. He watched as your eyes drank in his face – you had commented once that him wearing the helmet made the times he took it off feel special. He had never really considered himself special, but he did enjoy the way it felt to have your attention focused on him.

“You make me feel vulnerable,” he explained. “I am not used to having things I care about losing. And sometimes, when I sleep – I dream of you coming to harm because of me.”

Your soft features hardened further into your frown as he continued.

“My life is not one of peace. You are in danger just by virtue of knowing me. If something happened to you- I don’t know what I would do.”

“Do you think me to be weak?” You inquired, and he shook his head.

“Not at all. But I have many enemies, my love. Mandalore has many enemies. And they would not hesitate to hurt you as well.” He chanced a glance into your wide, glittering eyes. He could see the thoughts rolling around in your head.

“When I was first told that I’d be leaving Naboo, I was afraid,” you confessed. “I had never been off Naboo before. And Mandalore – Mandalorians – have a reputation.” You looked up at him, a glimmer of humor in your eye. “You have a reputation. Even I had heard of the fearsome bounty hunter who had reclaimed the seat of his people decades after it had been brought to ruin.”

Din allowed you to take his hands softly. He watched as you pulled off his gloves, and gently placed your smaller palms against his own.

“When you touch me, I don’t think about the blood you’ve spilled,” you murmured. The sensation of your fingers against his own made a shiver run down his spine. “How could I, when these hands hold me so tightly? Any fear I feel is gone when you say my name, when you look into my eyes like you’re seeing the stars for the first time.”

Din raised one of your hands to his mouth, pressing a kiss to your palm. “I would do anything for you,” he breathed. “I would claim a thousand planets if it would keep you safe.”

A smile graced your lips. “I know. But you don’t have to. I am safe, here. I have never felt safer than when I am with you.” You pressed a hand to his chest, over where his heart lay thumping beneath the armor. “This is where I want to be.”

“Even if it means you could get hurt? Or worse?” Din didn’t know if he could bear to hear your answer.

“Yes,” you pressed firmly. “You would claim a thousand planets to keep me safe, and I’d die a thousand deaths if it meant living just another day here, at your side.”

“I want to live all my days at your side,” Din rasped. “I pledge myself to your service, your happiness - because it is my happiness.”

Your smile widened, and you leaned into his grasp as his hands came up to cup your face. “Careful,” you mused, “Those almost sound like wedding vows.”

“They do,” Din confessed. “And they could be. They could be.”

He watched as you closed your eyes and nuzzled into his embrace. “You could be my bride,” Din continued, stroking the soft skin at your cheekbone. “My wife. The mother of my children.”

Your eyes flashed open at that, and there were a thousand unasked questions in the way you looked at him. “Truly?” You whispered. “You would pledge yourself to a scholar, a non-Mandalorian?”

“I would pledge myself to a woman,” Din corrected you. “A woman who is smart, and brave, and intelligent. A woman who is more than I ever thought I would have. Or deserve.” At that, he ducked forward to claim your mouth with his own, delighting in the way you melted against him.

Your hands came up to wrap around his neck, and you sighed into his devotion. If he could swallow your breaths and bring you into him, he would. If he could be swallowed and devoured by you in turn, he would. Nothing since finding Grogu and becoming Mand’alor had felt as right as kissing you did.

“Will you share vows with me?” He murmured against your mouth, breaking away to ask. You nodded quickly, chasing his lips with your own.

“Yes, yes,” you croaked. It was both an answer and a plea – a plea to continue kissing you, and he was more than happy to oblige.

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [18]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: self doubt, anxiety, angst

Word Count: 5,514

Updates every Thursday!

Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

#18: TALK ABOUT A POWER COUPLE

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"the feeling of being curled up in your arms with our fingers intertwined and the soft feel of your breath on my neck can never be put into words, I can, however, tell you that it is where I belong and it is in those arms that I feel at home." -B.R.K.

.

Grogu bounced on your bed happily as you tucked your scrub shirt into the matching bottoms. “Ma!” You grabbed your white coat. “Ma! Ma! Watch!” Grogu continued to bounce. You turned while pulling your hair out of your face and grinned as he jumped high enough to flip over and land on his back with a laugh. “You now!”

“Silly boy.” You held your arms out and he didn’t hesitate to crawl to his feet then jump into your arms. “Ma has to go to work and you have to get to school. No time for jumping.” Grogu whined in your arms until you began to tickle him. “Where’s your buir?”

“Ih.” Grogu pointed out your door.

You hummed and walked out still holding him. “No, no. Where is he? What do we say?”

Grogu babbled a bit before pushing out half the word, “Chen.”

“Mhmm. Kitchen.” You put emphasis on every bit of the word. “Kitchen.”

“Kitchen.”

You cooed and cheered the little victory and Grogu beamed at the praise. Din stood by the island counter doing something on his communicator. Without looking up, he asked, “What’re we so happy about?”

“Grogu, what room are we in?” You prodded. “Tell buir.”

Din immediately looked up from his communicator⏤ focus solely on his son. The little boy grinned, “Kitchen. Buir, ma, Grogu, in kitchen.”

“Ad’ika, that’s incredible!” Din praised. He held his arms out and you let Grogu crawl over to him. Din held him to his chest and continued to rain more words of love and encouragement on his son. You adored that every milestone, no matter how tiny, Din always got excited. He never held back any amount of affection from the child. Before meeting Din, you would’ve guessed that Mandalorians were distant and cold like their armor, but you had never met a parent so warm and involved. “Did ma teach you that?”

“Lek.” Grogu chirped.

Din tapped his forehead against Grogu’s briefly before setting the boy down. “Now, go get your bag. That’s what I sent you back there to begin with.”

You watched the boy waddle away and when he disappeared through the kitchen arch you turned back to have Din standing right in front of you. Your lips curled up into a grin as you stared up at him. “Well, hi there, Marshal.”

“Doc.” Din greeted in return. One of his hands wrapped around the back of your elbow so he could pull you toward him. Without further prompting, you closed your eyes. Din chuckled in response and you heard a quiet hiss before his lips pressed against yours. The Mandalorian was a very quick learner. His first kiss was supposedly with you three days ago, but the way he kissed you made you doubt if you had really been his first. Din’s tongue traced your lower lip, a warm rush shooting down your spine, and you parted your lips to give him room to explore. Maker, you could spend an eternity just like this. 

Ever since that first kiss, Din had been insatiable. If there were a spare moment of the day where he could be kissing you he was. You felt like he was one day away from asking you to walk around blindfolded so he wouldn’t have to waste time with his helmet, and you were so drunk on his lips that if he did ask you wouldn’t hesitate to say yes. Din shifted so he could leave open mouth kisses along your jawline to the shell of your ear then down your throat. You reached up to tangle your fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck⏤ you were growing obsessed with the soft curls.

Too soon, Din pulled back and you sighed. He pressed a chaste, simple kiss to your lips before leaving your space. You kept your eyes closed until his heavy helmet pressed against your forehead. A silent way of telling you it was safe to open your eyes. Grogu’s voice called out from behind the two of you and you pulled apart. 

“Come on, you little womp rat. Before you’re late for school.” Din scooped Grogu up. You followed the boys out of the house, and the three of you made your way down the street in the early morning air. It was a cozy existence as long as you ignored the ticking time bomb that was their departure. Next week. Din said next week. You had pushed that information aside to emotionally deal with another day. Right now, you only wanted to soak in how perfectly domestic your life felt right now.

There was just one problem.

Din would not fuck you.

Spice never appealed to him. Din didn’t fully understand the concept of becoming so addicted to something that it was all one ever craved. However, if consuming spice had even a fraction of the high Din felt when he was kissing you then he grasped the addiction mindset entirely. Maker. He didn’t know if it was the act of kissing itself that was overwhelming him or if it was just the act of kissing you specifically, but if Din were a betting man he’d know where he’d set his credits. 

Din knew you wanted more. If he thought it had been hard to resist pinning you against the wall before it was damn near impossible now with the way you looked at him. The longing he saw in your eyes after he returned his helmet to its rightful place was powerful enough to send him to his knees if he allowed it. The only reason he didn’t, the only reason he was stupid enough to not cross that line, was because of how badly he wanted to do this right. Having you be his first kiss had proven that further to him.

You owned so much of him without even fully realizing it. Din may have had sex before, but you were the first person he had truly been intimate with. In his mind, he couldn’t even consider sex as something intimate. It had always been so focused, impersonal, and goal oriented. Din never shed his armor to have someone see his skin or trace his scars with their lips. Din had never risked putting all his trust in a person to keep their eyes closed so he could remove his helmet and experience a kiss. Din had never been a courting Mandalorian exploring the body of his lover for the sole purpose of memorizing the way his partner’s skin felt against his and the sounds that would leave them. Din Djarin had never made love, and that’s what he wanted with you.

In his eyes, he was looking ahead. Din was building a future with you, and the foundation would be started once he went to Mandalore.

“Okay, but, what happens if you get there and there are no ‘living waters’?” Mayfeld asked from his desk.

Vanth, who was throwing darts at the board on the wall, spoke without looking up, “I think he comes back and kicks your ass for jinxing him, deputy.” Vanth glanced over with a shrug. “Just guessing.”

“It’s Mayfeld.” He corrected and narrowed his eyes.

“Isn’t that what I said?” Vanth smirked.

Din wondered if the city would be left standing when he returned. He ignored the two men who were now distracted with trying to out jab one another. It would be a lie to say Din wasn’t concerned about Mandalore. The stories he heard growing up in the covert described a glassed world of ruin and poison. The fact that this was his introduction to Mandalore was rather sad. Din wasn’t the kind to linger on this kind of line of thinking though. He needed to bathe in the living waters so that’s exactly what he was going to do. End of story.

You motioned to the three jars in the middle of the row, “These?”

Aayla thought for only a second before nodding with a smile, “Cymbopogan, Echinops, and Panicum. Ingredients for anti-pyretics.”

“Good.” You praised. “And⏤”

“Doctor?” You and Aayla both turned at the sound of Miriam’s voice. She had poked her head into the room. “Your, uh, cousin is here?”

You chuckled at the confusion in her voice and let her know Nima could come back. Aayla turned to the supply shelf and said she’d do quick inventory with restock. You thanked her and began to leave when Nima came storming in.

“Alright, so I def saw Mando walking you into work this morning, and you guys are literally the cutest.” Nima said. She jumped onto a cot and crossed her legs. “I mean, talk about a power couple. The marshal and the medic of Nevarro.”

“We’re technically not a couple.” You chuckled.

“You’re saying that to the person who already declared you two married.” Nima shook her head. “This is a losing argument on your part.”

“Fine. What do you need?” You asked. Nima pointed to her arm and you shook your head. “No. I told you. Weeks, not hours. You are not getting this damn brace⏤”

“Maker, will you chill??” Nima groaned. “I just want you to clear me for light duty.” You opened your mouth to scold her again, and Nima quickly cut in. “And by light duty I mean walking around the garage and organizing tools or something.”

You crossed your arms skeptically. “Nima, can you seriously be in a garage and keep yourself from working? You’re healing so well, but if you slip up and injure yourself⏤”

“I know. I swear I’ll be good.” Nima replied. “But, I am dying at home without something to do. Please. Peli said she’d be okay with me doing light work, and she was super serious about keeping me from the real stuff.”

You did trust Peli to keep Nima from getting too crazy. The only person in this city who may be more protective over the Twi’lek than you was the mechanic. Besides, you knew how much of a busy body Nima was. She was constantly on the move, and the fact that she had managed to be good for this long was basically a miracle. Especially considering the recent loss of love with Cara. You offered her a soft smile and stepped forward to examine her arm.

“Alright,” You made sure each of the brace’s locks were tight and in place, “You can do light work, but I’m serious about staying away from anything other than organizing.” Nima bounced in place with a wide grin. “No heavy lifting. Literally none. If it weighs more than ten pounds, you get someone else to pick it up.”

“Deal!” Nima squealed and threw her arms around you. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Mhmm.”

“So,” She drew the word out while pulling away to sit back on the cot, “How are you feeling?” You raised an eyebrow and shook your head. Nima rolled her eyes. “About Mando leaving, dummy.” You winced at the painful reminder and Nima noticed. “Sorry.”

You forced a smile. “It’s fine. I just… I’m trying not to think about it.”

“Not to make you think about it more by asking, but… do you know how long he’ll be gone?”

“Nope.” You answered quickly, and it wasn’t a lie.

It wasn’t that Din was trying to withhold that truth from you. He had been sincere when he told you that he truly didn’t know. He hoped it’d be two weeks at the most, but he couldn’t guarantee it. That terrified you to your core. Maker forbid anything happen to Din or Grogu. You didn’t think you could survive that.

“They’re going to be okay.” Nima set her arm on your shoulder. “Mando is such a badass. He’s⏤ He’s invincible with all that beskar, you know?”

You chuckled. “Of course.”

But you knew that was far from the truth. 

Kurt never expected to lose Soran so suddenly and violently, but the world still took her. She was gone in a blink of an eye, and she hadn’t even been throwing herself head first toward a poisoned and maybe cursed planet.

In your eyes, you needed to take advantage of every moment⏤ cherish it⏤ as nobody ever knew how many moments they had left. It all just started with you taking that terrifying leap of putting yourself out there. A plan settled in your mind.

“I think I found someone with an interest to come work here in medicine.” Karga said. Din sat comfortably in the chair placed in front of Karga’s desk while the High Magistrate paced behind the desk. He had been called here for a meeting, but it seemed Karga just wanted a sounding board of some kind. “But we need another deputy, I think. Don’t know if two is enough while you’re gone, and I’m still not so sure about Mayfeld and this Vanth fella working together.”

“They’ll be fine.” Din replied. If it came down to it, Din trusted both men in a fight and had no doubt they’d be able to set aside any differences for the safety of all. Probably. “Just focus on getting that second physician. That should be your priority.”

“Fine.” Karga grumbled. “Looking out for your woman. Respectable.” Din sighed and kept his body still enough to convey annoyance to the High Magistrate, but his lips still curled up into a small smile. His. You were his. Technically, Din should ask you how you felt on that topic, but he personally liked that most of the city considered you taken by him The possessive side of him preened at that notion. “While you’re out, you planning on saying hello to Daelar?”

“If I have the time.” Absolutely. The answer was absolutely. It was going to be the first stop he made, and as if fate was on his side the world Daelar was hiding on was on the way to Mandalore anyways. Din would keep it quiet though.

“Technically, the bounty is for him to be brought in alive.” Karga added.

“I know.” Din replied. He just didn’t care.

“Well, we need⏤” Karga began, but Din’s communicator began to beep. He glanced down at his vambrace to see who was reaching out to him, and when he realized it was your frequency number he connected the call to his helmet. Din called out your nickname, and Karga threw his hands up. “Really, Mando, I⏤”

Din held a hand up to keep the Magistrate from talking any further. Your voice greeted him, “Hey, are you busy right now?”

“Of course not. I can speak.” Din said as Karga set his hands on his hips. “Is something wrong?”

“No! Nothing. I, um, Grogu is going over to a friend’s house after school. I spoke to their parents and they said they’d walk Grogu home around dinner time.” You replied. Din glanced at the clock in Karga’s office. It was about half an hour until the normal pick up time.

Din nodded. “Sure. That’s fine.”

“And, I was thinking,” You began and Din noted a nervous energy in your voice, but it also held excitement so he wasn’t too concerned, “If you’re not busy maybe you could meet me at home? Kind of a mid-day break?”

“Alright.” Din chuckled and pushed to stand. “I’ll see you soon, then?”

“Yes! See you soon!”

Din hung up and gave Karga his attention once more. He shrugged, “I have to go.”

“Is this work related or personal?” Karga questioned. “Because I will remind you that I am your employer.”

“I’m aware. Call Vanth if you need anything.” Din gave the man a small wave before walking out.

With his departure date quickly arriving, Din wanted to spend any spare moment he could with you. This would be the first time he left a place behind and craved to go back to this degree. Even back during his main bounty hunting years, he always had Grogu with him. Din traveled with his family so there was no sense of longing. He actually felt guilt as well. As much as Din loved having Grogu around, he never loved how easily the boy could fall into danger, and Din was fully aware of how dangerous this upcoming trip could be. With you, he finally had a safe place to leave Grogu, but Din hated the idea of leaving you on a world to be a single parent while also trying to juggle a new job that asked so much of you. 

His best bet was to just be back as soon as possible. Unless things went wildly out of control, Din was guessing he could be back in a little over two weeks. That was two weeks too many, but he knew how to be efficient. Plus, having you at home waiting for him would be the best kind of motivation to hurry.

When his home came into view, Din’s pace increased. He expected to be greeted by you when he stepped in, but was instead met by an empty kitchen and living room. Had he beaten you here? Din called out and was quickly met with your faint reply.

“I’m back here!”

Curious, Din entered the back hall and followed your voice. Din realized your voice was coming from his room, but he didn’t think anything of it until he stepped into the doorway. You were sitting on the edge of his made bed wearing nothing but undergarments and one of his shirts. Din stiffened and the sudden but immediate hunger he had for you slammed into him like a racing landspeeder. 

“Hey there, Marshal.” You greeted.

Din felt the air leave him. As if an airlock had been opened and sucked the oxygen right out of his lungs. In his mind, he could already feel your warm skin under his bare hands⏤ could feel your soft lips between his. Din wanted to peel off the remaining clothes you had on, and explore every inch of you with his mouth alone. He wanted to take the memory of you moaning beneath him to Mandalore.

“You just gonna stand there all day?” You asked.

Maker, you were perfect.

Anticipation mingled with desperation and desire as Din began to cross the room to you. He tore off his gloves, tossing them aside, and you straightened your spine⏤ eager. Din was only a few steps away when he came to an abrupt stop. You frowned watching as his hands clenched and unclenched. There was tension in his entire frame.

“Din?” You questioned.

“I⏤ We⏤” Din cleared his throat and shook his head. “Uh, no.”

It was almost funny how a single word composed of only two little letters could turn every ounce of want into shame. You could feel every inch of your skin burn in embarrassment. “Right.” You quickly shoved yourself to stand. “Sorry. I’m sorry. I⏤ Sorry.”

You tried to rush away, but Din caught you by your arms and held you in front of him. He shook his head, but you tried to avoid letting your eyes land on his dark visor. “No, I didn’t mean⏤ Ner kar’ta, please let me explain.” You pressed your lips together and Din didn’t speak again until you focused your gaze back on him. “Can you⏤ Do you trust me?”

“You know I do.” You mumbled.

Din let his hands leave you hesitantly and you watched him dig through his drawers until he found what he was looking for. He returned with a long sleeve shirt, folding it up, and he brought it toward you to hold it up in front of you. Understanding what he wanted, you gave him a small nod. Din softly set the folded portion against your eyes and used the sleeves to tie it behind your head. 

With your vision gone, you felt a whole new sense of vulnerability added into the mix. 

The sound of Din’s helmet being removed⏤ the familiar hissing sound you were growing to adore⏤ filled the air. Seconds later, Din’s hands were cupping your face and you felt his forehead against yours. “Din…” He took in a shaky breath, and you raised your own hands to cover his. “Din, you said no. I’m… I’m okay with that. I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want⏤”

“Don’t want?” Din let out a low chuckle that gave you goosebumps. “Ner kar’ta, I have never wanted something⏤ someone⏤ more in my entire life.” His words re-ignited the spark you had lost in fear. Din let his hands trail down your body until they reached your hips and he pulled you tight against him. His own hips pressed against yours and the hardness you felt made a hot pool of desire curl in your belly. You let out a soft gasp. Din kept one hand on your hips, squeezing his fingers into your skin, while his other traveled back up to cup your neck. His thumb traced your jawline. “Listen to me ner kar’ta, every single day it takes all my self control to not tear your clothes off and fuck you against the closest piece of furniture.” 

Maker, you were dizzy with want. Any self doubt or embarrassment you had felt was gone. There was no room for anything other than desire. Din peppered soft kisses along the side of your face until he found your lips. His tongue darted out to brush against your lower lip. You parted them, wanting to feel him closer, but rather than exploring your mouth further Din instead took your lower lip between his and sucked. You moaned and he released your lip.

He stayed in your space, his hot breath against your mouth, and when he spoke his lips brushed against yours. “Then, you call me in here, sit on my bed, in my shirt, so pretty, and tempt me even further? Ner mesh’la kar’ta. I am not that strong.”

Din went back to lazily pressing his lips along your jaw to the shell of your ear. You tilted your head up and he continued down your neck. Slowly, lingering inch by inch, Din would alternate between letting his teeth graze your skin followed by his tongue. 

“In case⏤” You sucked in a sharp breath as his teeth found a sensitive spot. “In case it isn’t blatantly clear, I am very much okay with you losing a little self control, Din.”

He chuckled, the sound reverberating against you, and he pulled your collar aside just so he could press one more kiss to your collarbone. “I’m picking up on that. But…” Maker, you’ve never hated a word so much before, “I… I⏤ Dank farrik, this is going to sound so stupid.”

There was a nervous, almost embarrassed tone, in his voice that gave you pause. Din began to pull back, but you wrapped your arms around his neck to keep him in place. “Hey, no it isn’t. Talk to me, Din.”

He sighed. “Sex has always been…impersonal to me. If I’m being honest, I probably couldn’t tell you half the names of the people I've slept with and I⏤ I’ve never been with the same woman twice.” To be honest, you hadn’t given his previous romantic life much thought at all. “It was just always clinical. A means to an end. And you’re the… you’re the first person I want more with.”

“Din…” Your lips curled into a smile.

“And I get that waiting until I’m Mandalorian once more, and properly courting you, is a nuance if anything but⏤”

“But you want that.” You finished for him softly.

“I’m sorry.” Din sighed.

“No, don’t.” You pushed yourself up and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Don’t apologize for that. I get it, Din.” You beamed at him in reassurance. “I kind of feel special now.”

Din let out a quiet scoff. “You are special, and if you’re only feeling that way now then I haven’t done a good enough job making it known.” He squeezed your hips. “I’m curious what brought this on though. In the middle of the day, no less.” You hesitated, hoping he didn’t catch on, but Din was painfully observant at times. He pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. “Hey. Your turn. Talk to me.”

You chuckled. “I… I was scared.”

“You wanted me to fuck you because you were scared?”

A laugh left your lips and you wrapped your arms around him tighter. You rested your head against his shoulder. “Things can go wrong so fast.” Your smile faltered. “You never know how long you have until time runs out.” You could feel Din stiffen. He slowly untangled himself from your arms. “Din?”

“Don’t move.” He mumbled.

You felt him step away and you nervously played with your hands. Din was moving about and it only took a couple minutes before you could feel him approaching you once more. Arms scooped you right off the floor and you yelped in surprise⏤ your arms winding around his neck as Din held you bridal style. He had removed his armor and the upper half of his flight suit from what you could tell.

Din knelt on the bed, laying you down before half settling over you. He was pressed against your side, and from what you could tell he was caging you in with his arms. Din leaned in and pulled you into a kiss. He immediately deepened it with his hand cupping under your neck to tilt your head up to him. You lost yourself in him⏤ drunk on the sensation of his tongue against yours. When he finally pulled back, you were breathless and panting. He shifted and pressed his lips against your ear.

“Ner kar’ta.” His voice, low and hoarse with desire, filled your chest with warmth. “I will return to you. There is nothing in this galaxy that could keep me from you.” You released a shuddering breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “And when I return, I plan to make you mine in every definition of the word. I swear this to you.”

Tears welled up and you were glad to have his t-shirt there to soak them up before they could be seen. Nothing could stop the shaky gasp that left you. Din rolled onto his back, bringing you with him, and he wrapped his arms around you while you laid against him. Your head resting on his chest. Din turned his own head so he could whisper loving words in Basic and Mando’a while pressing kisses to where he could reach between each phrase.

His hand dragged up and down your spine, and you found comfort in the motion. You had sought intimacy with Din and you had found it. Perhaps, it wasn’t in the way you initially planned or thought it would be, but never had you felt closer to another human soul than right now.

You told yourself you weren’t going to cry, and it was taking every bit of strength you had to follow through on that. Saying good-bye to Grogu had been the moment to nearly push you over the edge. You knew you loved the little boy, knew he had crawled into you very heart and soul and nestled in there, but trying to say good-bye had solidified that knowledge. So, you kept it brief. Hugged and kissed him and now you watched as Peli bounced the chipper little boy in her arms.

“We’ll be back soon.” Din murmured. You turned to face your Mandalorian and another wave of sadness and fear slammed into you. Worst case scenarios were swirling in your head and left you breathless. Din reached out and set his hands on your arms. “I gave you my word.”

“I know.” Your voice cracked and you swallowed it down.

Din pulled you closer, resting his hands on your lower back, while he softly set his forehead against yours. The two of you had said a more intimate good-bye this morning before Grogu awoke. Like days before, you had just laid in his arms. The two of you switching from sharing whispered reassurances and tender kisses. You didn’t think Din would want to show any sign of PDA out in the open, but he didn’t seem to care with the way he bunched you into his arms.

“Please be careful.” You pleaded. “Both of you.”

“We will.”

You closed your eyes, letting out a shuddering breath, and just focused on the metal pressing against your forehead and the weight of his leather gloved hands on your back. Your own hands had wrapped around his neck, and the tips of your fingers found the hidden, bare skin of his neck between his helmet and shirt.

“Ni aalar sha yaim ti gar, ner kar’ta.” Din whispered.

You recognized the words, he had mumbled them to you a number of times, but it was a phrase he had never translated for you. You lightly squeezed the back of his neck, “Can I know now? You said you’d tell me one day.”

Din chuckled, “I did, didn’t I?” You opened your eyes and gave him a small nod, making sure to keep your head in contact with his. Din released a breathy sigh and repeated himself, “Ni aalar sha yaim ti gar.” He paused. “I feel at home with you.” At his translation, you took in a sharp breath of surprise. The first time he whispered that to you had been ages ago, on the first night he had to leave for work and you slept in his bed. That long ago, he had known enough to make that claim. “Ner kar’ta.” Your lower lip quivered and you bit down on it to keep from tearing up. Din finished his translation in a soft voice, and you could hear the smile he wore. “My heart.”

Tears filled your eyes and you let out a laugh. You pulled yourself tighter to him so you could bury your face in the crook of his neck and hug him tightly. Din didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you in a grip that could bruise your rib cage. You didn't care. If you could somehow be closer to him you’d do it.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Din.” You kept your words as quiet as possible, whispering his name, and Din squeezed you again. 

He shifted and you forced yourself to untangle yourself from him. Din settled a hand on the side of your face, thumb swiping away a tear that had managed to slip out. He gave you a firm nod. “I’ll call you, every chance I get, but if you need anything⏤ if anything happens⏤”

“I’ll call you.” You nodded in agreement. “Don’t worry about me. Just keep Grogu and yourself safe, alright?”

“Of course.” Din softly tapped his forehead against yours once more before taking a large step back. You didn’t blame him. If he stayed within your reach any longer you didn’t think you’d ever let him go. Din would be fine. Grogu would be fine. They’d be back before you even knew it. 

At least, that’s what you repeatedly told yourself.

Din knew leaving you behind was going to be tough, but seeing you yards away standing next to Nima as you waved was devastating. He’d have to leave quickly or he’d end up changing his mind. Peli came up beside the N-1 and handed Grogu over.

“You two be safe out there!” She commanded. “And bring back this ship in one piece or I swear⏤”

“We will, Peli.” Din settled Grogu on his lap. “Keep an eye on her for me?”

Peli gave him a nod. “You know we all will. Just get your kriffing ass back soon. We’re all gonna miss little bright eyes here so much.”

Din chuckled as the mechanic backpedaled away. This was almost just like old times, but it felt so different. Grogu shifted on his lap, as if looking for something, and then he pointed out of the ship, “Ma, sit where?” Din stiffened. He had wondered why the kid handled this situation so well and cheery, and now it made sense why. Grogu just assumed you’d be with them⏤ unable to fathom anything different. Grogu, getting more riled up, began to pout. “Ma, sit where??”

Panicked, Din closed the cockpit’s glass and began lift off before Grogu could start his full meltdown.

Maker, this was going to be the longest trip of his life.

a/n: i know y'all are probs dying for the eventual smut i promised, and i swear it is coming. in my defense, i did warn you this was going to be a painfully long slow burn. it's my go-to move. more so though, the intimacy i really REALLY wanted to explore in this story is emotional intimacy b/c I feel like (my own personal headcanon) is that Din Djarin has been with people in the past, but he'd never been emotionally intimate with someone like the reader in this story. so i promise that smut is coming, but this is the kind of stuff i really love writing.

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @harriedandharassed @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet

[ruinedbylanadelrey]

Politics & Violence

Din Djarin x Jedi!F!Reader

summary: A retelling of S2E8, with a galaxy run by politics and violence is love the only to bend the laws you choose to follow. Inspired by Dominic Fike's song Politics & Violence

masterlist

inspo

warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, canon violence and injuries, use of dialogue from The Mandalorian, jedi reader, angst, implied smut, din falls in love, CONTAINS SPOILERS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN THE SHOW, takes place during S2E8, din takes off his helmet, HIS NAME IS DIN<3 an: this is a love letter to The Mandalorian, the show that got me through a dark time when I turned 22.

'Helmet stays on' 

But the lines get blurred when relationships with any living creature make a home in the Mandalorian's beskar heart. When two Jedi took over his heart, and controlled his mind with every calculated move in the best interest of Grogu and you, the Jedi "princess", yes with quotes because you used air quotes when you introduced yourself to the Mandalorian. The Jedi order fell but you still carry the saber with you. 

You stumbled upon the duo and were able to help the child to grow his connection to the force. A friendship grew between you, Grogu, and Din Djarin. You ended up joining the clan of two and becoming a clan of three when you saved Din by sacrificing yourself to a troop of dark troopers. 

Defeating them just to collapse to the steel floor of the light cruiser. You couldn't tell where the blaster wound started when you got hit so many times when you dropped your saber in mid-combat when Din was getting his head bashed into the wall. The force wavering from you when your heart sank in your chest when Din was stuck in the hold. 

You felt your blood run cold when you finally gathered yourself and pushed any emotion toward Din aside.

"Mm-Mando you have to go find the child," You hiccuped from trying to hold in the tears, Din scans your face and body, seeing bruising and cuts then the giant pool of blood coming from your side. He kneels beside you, resting your head on his thighs plates. You were using every bit of energy to push Din away. 

"Go. Don't be afraid," You rasped needing someone to focus on the main objective. The rescue of the child. Of Din's child, of your child. You always cursed yourself for not following the simple rule, no emotional attachments. How could you not get attached to Grogu, he was like a baby and your maternal instinct was being fed and satisfied. And how could you not get attached and fall in love with the Mandalorian, who always got you. Validating your opinions about how things used to run and understanding the way you think. Din Djarin calling you 'pretty' instead of your real name. 

Is love the one exception to all laws and politics when it comes to someone's morals? Religion? Creed?

"I'm not leaving you behind, please pretty don't give up now." Din's stutter was emphasized through the modulator. He held your body close to his chest, feeling your body feel cold with most of the blood going to the wound. Din adds pressure to slow the bleeding, you let out a debilitating scream. Your head was spinning and you tried to focus on looking at Din's visor. 

Din is scrambling for your med pack from your utility belt. Injecting the bacta into your stomach as close to the wound as he could without causing you more distress. You cough when the bacta hits your bloodstream, your body warms up again. Din sobbed out, reaching for his helmet, your eyes grow wide when you see the skin of his jaw, and quickly stop him from taking it off. 

"No, not for me," You whispered, Din squeezed his eyes shut and shed the hot tears and sweat. He looks down at you and if you could see the admiration coming through. Willing to break his creed because you saved him, you made him feel complete, and you were the one to listen to him talk about how no one can ever fall in love with the state of the galaxy is in. Giving him a sense of family and domestic bliss. 

You selflessly never asked him to show his face to you, even that night on Naboo when you and him were sharing a bed at an expensive and luxurious inn. You had a little too much to drink. A little wine and dine from Din since it was the anniversary of meeting each other. Grogu was asleep in the living room part of the suite. You thought 'Oh what the hell' when you were pinned underneath Din and made love in the dim light coming from the moons in the sky. 

Isn't it lovely to fall in love with another closed-off person?

"I'll meet up with Bo and the rest of them, go find Grogu," You winced as you stood up and pretended your whole left side wasn't on fire. Din rests his gloved hand on your lower back, you reach behind to push it away and take off to the control room. 

You lean against one of many control panels, trying to prepare for another fight, sensing it when Din brings in Moff Gideon and the...the dark saber in his other hand. You watched Bo's face fall and eyes grow wide. Cara is showing relief that Grogu is back with Din, everyone staring at the dark saber in Din's hand. 

You swallowed down another pain shooting down your body. 

"Come on, just take it-" Din still did not understand the politics around the saber. Alarms go off when the fleet of dark troopers that Din let go out of the cargo bay comes back for one last fight. Din turns to see you staring right at the dark saber in his hands. 

How could he be so smart about fighting but can't comprehend the heavy metal in his hands?

Metal hitting metal is rapidly coming from the doors, everyone reaching for their weapons and you reach for your lightsaber that failed you once and you were wielding for it not to happen again. Purple hues paint your silhouette. Grogu is perking up when the X-wing flies in and the punching stops. You look at the child and your skin prickles when you see a Jedi walk down the halls. 

Din looks at you and then at Grogu, your breathing was evening out and the force was strong. You and Din crowd the monitor watching the Jedi crave their way through the dark troopers. Grogu whines to you and Din. 

"I said, open the doors," Din carries Grogu away and sits in a chair, the Jedi emerges from the smoke and pulls back their cloak. 

"Are you a Jedi?"

"I am,"

"He doesn't want to go with you," Din mutters and looks at the Jedi. Grogu was staring at Din with stars in his eyes when Din picked him up to say goodbye. You watched Din hold the child with such tenderness and care. Your heart was beating out your chest, hearing Din tear up.

He's showing emotions. Showing he has an emotional attachment to the kid. 

"I'll see you again...I promise..." Din lets Grogu touch the helmet before pulling it up and off his head. You gasp and look away, staring out the windows and seeing the different stars float by. 

"Alright pal, it's time to go...don't be afraid," Din's voice was so much deeper and just so crisp, you could feel your face blush at the last 3 words he said. His voice was relaxed you and made you melt. You could see Grogu leave in your peripheral, seeing the outline of Din's back. You blinked away the tears when Grogu transmitted a goodbye to you. 

He broke his creed for his son. He always has to be so tragically beautiful with his actions. You felt conflicted about how he was willing to take the helmet in front of all of these humans. Willing to break his creed for his loved ones. After all the violence maybe Din was ready to settle down with you, leave the creed and bounty hunting behind. Just having a life with you and Grogu by his side. 

Everyone takes a brief pause and starts gathering the next of plans. Din turns around to look at you, your back was turned and you were doubled over tending to your wounds. His heavy boots carried him over to you. 

The shadow of his frame cascades over you. 

"Look at me, pretty," Din whispers in your ear, you shake your head and bite down on your lip to stop a sob from escaping. 

"I can't, I will not do that to you," You croaked, Din laid a kiss behind your ear and rested his head on top of yours. He doesn't care about the creed at the moment, not after what happened to you earlier in the mission. 

"I need you to look at me, I want you to...please." Din sucks in a breath and holds it when you stand up straight and lean your back against his chest plate, feeling the stubble rub in your hair. You dreamed of maybe one day seeing his face but at what cost? He thought you were going to depart ways, maybe he should save it for the day the violence kills you. 

[dinluke-ao3feed]

Only Over You

Read it on https://archiveofourown.org/works/57334252 by depressionberry “Din!” Grogu shrieked and Luke realized in a panic that his child just jumped into a stranger’s arms and was very much enjoying it. Luke tilted his head in concern, his hands itching to have his son back. “I- I'm sorry? Do I know you?” “I'm one of Cara’s friends, I work here.” The man said in a very thick accent and Luke almost laughed at the audacity. “She’d been bringing Grogu here almost every day, I apologize, I thought you already knew.” And Luke did know, that Grogu’s nanny, Cara, had a second job here, that’s why he’d been coming to this restaurant in the first place, to support her from the back, because that’s what good friends do, and there had been a few times when she came out to say hello, but Luke had never seen him! or, Luke is tired, and this very handsome, attentive, a little weird, and good-with-kids chef just seems like everything he needs right now, and a nap. Words: 3945, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Din Djarin, Luke Skywalker, Grogu | Baby Yoda, Ahsoka Tano, Cara Dune, Boba Fett, Leia Organa Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bottom Luke Skywalker, Top Din Djarin, Chef Din Djarin, Medical Worker Luke Skywalker, Medical Inaccuracies, Modern Era, Past Teen Pregnancy, Implied Mpreg, Luke is Grogu's Biological Dad, Love at First Sight, Kinda, Bonding, Domestic Bliss, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Sexual Tension, Food Sex, Bad Decisions, Grogu eats too much sugar on this

[mayhasopinions]

Dinbo? Dinluke? Naw Aroace Din Djarin is so canon and real no matter what y’all say, he’s out there living as a single dad in peaceful domestic bliss with his adopted son whatchu on about

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Star Crossed; Star-Collide: chapter I

Summary: As a bounty hunter, Din has completed his mission, however, he is unbeknownst to the storm that will knock the wind out of him, literally.

pairing: Din Djarin x afab!Skywalker!reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Violence, Blood, Age-Gap, Kidnapping, Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Idiots in love, Flirting, possessive!Din, powerful!reader, Jedi!reader, Grogu being adorable, Grogu loves his Ma more than his buir.

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The Nevarro desert sprawls out before you, a vast canvas of parched earth that seems to stretch beyond the horizon. Endless dunes of golden sand undulate like a sea frozen in time, while jagged rocks jut out like the teeth of some great beast, scattered haphazardly across the landscape.

The winds whisper a mournful song, carrying with them the sense of utter isolation and a haunting desolation. There is no life in this forsaken place, only the vast emptiness of the shifting sands and a never-ending solitude that engulfs everything in its path.

The star above glows with fervor, its radiance spilling over the land, igniting a heat that suffuses every grain of sand. The air trembles with the sun's intensity, the weight of its brilliance pressing down upon the desert like a hammer.

As if locked in a dance with the arid earth, the sun paints the world in shades of gold and ochre, conjuring an austere beauty in the midst of its scorching assault.

You traverse the vastness of the desert, silence reigning supreme, broken only by the sound of sand crunching beneath your feet. The untamed essence of this barren land engulfs you, but you remain unrelenting, unwavering in your quest

The ivory of your Jedi robes glows against the ashen sand, stark and luminous against the muted desert backdrop. The black of your belt and boots adds depth to your monochrome attire, and your cloak, rippling behind you like a shadow, lends an air of mystery to your austere appearance.

Looking every bit of Obi-Wan’s apprentice, A hushed voice travels with the wind, caressing your ears. You recognize it instantly, the familiar timbre of your mentor Obi-Wan.

Gliding alongside you is Beeb, your trusty astromech droid, a blur of orange and white against the beige sand. Its head, round and dome-shaped, swivels with a keen and curious eye, scanning the endless surroundings.

The stillness of the desert is interrupted only by the gentle hum of Beeb's servos, harmonizing with the soft whisper of the wind.

You watch over him with a protective gaze, your heart filling with a maternal sense of duty. "Take care, little one," you whisper, your voice carried away by the hot winds.

Beeb zips back to your side, emitting a joyful chirp that resonates with the purity of a bird's song happily. Your lips curl into a crescent moon of joy, a twinkle in your eye as you witness Beeb's playful antics.

Beeb swivels his dome-shaped head, emitting a series of chirps and whistles that resemble a curious inquiry. ‘Mama, where are we going?’

A soft chuckle escapes your lips, as if carried on a breeze of mirth at Beeb’s innocent query.

Patting his metallic head and rubbing it as in a way to ruffle his hair gently. "There is a child, Beeb. We must rescue him from the Imperial Remnant." Your voice imbued with unshakable resolve.

‘A child! I get a sibling. That means R2D2 won’t tease me for being the youngest.’ Beeb lets out a series of excited chirps, almost child-like in nature. His head spins around in every direction, as if searching for the little one himself.

A beam of happiness spreads across your face at Beeb's enthusiasm, feeling a sense of warmth in your heart. It's been a long time since you've seen anyone so purely happy and carefree.

It reminds you of your own childhood, before the weight of the galaxy was thrust upon your shoulders.

"I know, Beeb. He's quite the special little guy. I can't wait for you to meet him." Your words are punctuated by a gentle laugh.

The little droid chirps with excitement, his movements quick and sprightly. You follow closely, trying to keep up with his energy as he rolls ahead, leading the way.

The endless expanse of desert still stretches out before you, but Beeb's child-like enthusiasm brings a sense of joy to the journey.

Together, you press on through the harsh terrain, Beeb's infectious happiness making each step a little lighter, each gust of sand a little more bearable.

Through the cacophonous streets of Nevarro, Din strides with a solemn gait, the metallic plates of his armor echoing a rhythmic beat that echoes through the throng of people.

The bustling market envelops the city streets, stalls brimming with wares to behold. Each vendor calls out to passersby, their voices echoing through the narrow alleys as hurried feet beat a steady rhythm on the worn stones beneath.

Din threads his way through the thriving market, the polished metal of his armor gleaming in the scorching sun, capturing the attention of every passerby.

Undeterred by the chaos of the busy market and the looks he receives, Din strides forward with a sense of purpose.

His attention remains steadfast on the task at hand, his thoughts consumed by the mission that has brought him back to this bustling city.

Din treads deeper into the maze of Nevarro's streets, slipping between shadows and darting through sunlight, his every step deliberate and steady as he navigates the twisting alleys.

As Din rounds the corner, his gaze falls upon the entrance to the clandestine Imperial facility, nestled amid the bustling Nevarro market. But in his periphery, a lone rubbish bin catches his eye, discarded and forgotten in the dusty shadows of the narrow alleyway.

Gazing into the dusty bin, Din beholds a heartbreaking sight - the remnants of the child's floating pram now shattered and broken beyond repair.

Din's heart sears with fiery pain, his gaze fixated upon the shattered remnants of the child's once safe haven. The pram, once a symbol of hope and protection, now lies destroyed, its pieces scattered amongst the filth and debris.

Regret grips Din like a vice, squeezing his heart with a brutal force as he recalls the moment he surrendered the Child to the Imperial Remnants.

His fists coil and release, a surge of guilt overwhelming him. A sense of failure seizes his heart, a heavy burden he bears as he paces the alley.

His mind whirls, seeking a solution to the wrongs he's allowed to befall the innocent. A plan he must devise, a way to redeem himself and rescue the Child from the hands of the Imperials.

A burden of guilt crushes his heart as he comprehends the peril that the Child faces. He senses the urgency to act, to save the innocent one from harm's way.

Filled with righteous fury and a burning desire for retribution, Din sets off on a path of vengeance.

For the Empire's cruelty to the Child, they will pay a fee. A debt that only he, the Mandalorian, can claim.

Prostrate atop a terrace, far removed from the grasp of the Imperial agents, Din steadies his gaze through the Amban sniper's lens, locked on the looming Imperial stronghold.

A soft touch to his helmet's earpiece and the mechanism within it hums with life, carrying distant conversations to Din's ear.

Static echoes in Din's ears, as he moves the sniper lens, trying the locate the Child, however, as he scans the base, his attention is drawn to a new scene unfolding before him: the thermal image of the Imperial client and Dr. Pershing.

Their voices, distant and distorted, crackle through his comms. He adjusts the frequency, tuning out the static until the conversation between the Imperial client and Dr. Pershing fills his ears like poison.

"I don't care." The Imperial clients travel through Din's comms. "I order you to extract the necessary material and be done with it."

The Imperial agent's orders blare through Din's comms, their cold and callous tones cutting through his heart like a blade. "I don't care. I order you to extract the necessary material and be done with it." they command as if the life of a child is nothing but a mere trifle to be disposed of at will.

For a while, the voices fade into the hiss of static, the words drowned in a sea of white noise.

With a gentle twist of the knob, Din awaits the return of the conversation, the static hum slowly dissipating, and the sound of voices filling the air once more.

The doctor's voice breaks the silence, his words dripping with obedience, "He has explicitly ordered us to bring it back alive."

"Finish your business quickly, as I no longer can guarantee your safety." The Imperial Client's words travel through the air, a warning of imminent danger.

The beskar helmet conceals the furrow on Din's brow, perplexed by the Imperial Client's cryptic words.

No longer guarantee the safety of the doctor? What is the Imperial agent talking about? Who was this threat that shook the resolve of this hidden Imperial base?

It fills Din with an unknown sense of relief as he realizes that the Imperial agents fear something to the point where they longer feel safe hiding here. For if they fear something enough to flee, then perhaps the Child may yet have a chance at survival.

Thoughts race through Din's mind as he surveys the scene, his voice muffled by the helmet that conceals his emotions. "What are they afraid of? Who is this threat?"

"It is I, they fear, Mandalorian."

A tense stillness grips Din's form, as a distinct hum, like a shrill electrical buzz, reverberates through the air behind him.

Amidst the chaos of his thoughts, a moment of reckoning grips Din like a vice, and he curses himself for his lack of vigilance. His eyes, once sharp and alert, now narrow with anger and frustration, as he realizes the gravity of his mistake.

With steady hands, Din relinquishes his grip on the rifle, previously trained upon the Imperial stronghold. Silently, with calculated precision, his hand glides downward, towards the leather holster secured to his left thigh, where the blaster rests within its sheath.

With quickness unmatched, Din draws his weapon from its sheath, rolling onto his back in one fluid motion. From this vulnerable position, he trains the weapon on the looming figure standing behind him, ready to defend himself against any threat.

Confronting him is a presence, tall and imposing. The figure is draped in flowing white robes, the starkness of which is accented by a contrasting black belt.

Behind them, a cloak of the deepest black dances in the wind, as if daring anyone to challenge the power of the one who wears it.

The figure holds a weapon that Din has only heard in a hushed tone, spoken in reverential tones and remembered with reverence, for those who wielded it were lost to the purge, gone without a trace.

The once-forgotten weapon, now in the possession of an enigmatic form, is wielded with practiced ease and lethal finesse, each hand brandishing one of the glowing blades.

Din offers gratitude to the stars above, for the knowledge imparted by the Armourer, which he now recalls as a child, the different variations of the lightsabers.

The Mandalorian's gaze fixates on the left hand of the figure, beholding the double-bladed lightsaber glowing in hues of royal purple, while the right-hand holds a dual-phased lightsaber emanating a vivid green radiance.

"A Jetii." Din's lips part, his breath caught in his chest as he beholds the figure before him, a being of power and ancient wisdom.

"A Mandalorian." The words uttered by the figure are infused with a sense of serenity, a voice of balance and control.

The voice of the figure reaches Din's ears, and a sudden realization dawns upon him. This is no mere figure, but a woman of immense power, her words carrying a weight that stirs something deep within him.

A shiver runs down his spine, as he realizes the magnitude of his opponent - a Jetii, armed with weapons of deadly prowess. He knows he stands no chance against such might.

Din's senses flare with a sudden urgency, and his body responds with a lightning-quick roll, narrowly evading the Jetii's sudden lunge. His muscles tense, his reflexes honed from a life of constant danger.

The graceful and deadly strike of her dual lightsabers slices through the air where Din had been just a moment before. The sound of the humming blades echoes off the surrounding structures, a symphony of danger and death.

Din's heart races with adrenaline as he quickly springs to his feet, his own weapons at the ready. He knows he's outmatched, but he refuses to go down without a fight.

Din regains his footing with a graceful sway, his blaster at the ready, aimed at the Jetii. Yet her movements are too swift, her form too lithe, as she sidesteps each shot with poise and ease, the double-bladed lightsaber a blur of purple, effortlessly blocking his every attempt.

Din grunts as he swiftly steps back, creating distance between himself and the woman. With fluid motions, he draws his amban rifle/spear from his back, ready for the woman's next move. As she lunges towards him with her green lightsaber, Din expertly parries her attack.

Din charges forward, his rifle at the ready, but the woman is too quick. She leaps over him, somersaulting in mid-air, and lands behind him. Before he can turn around, she delivers a swift kick to his back, sending him sprawling to the ground.

Stepping forward, the woman's words are sharp and unforgiving. "You are a Mandalorian, revered warrior. Family is paramount to you, younglings are precious to your kind. I have respect for your way of life, but I must ask, why did you surrender the Child to the Imperials?"

Din tries to stand up but he is still disoriented from the kick. He glares at the woman, anger simmering within him. "That's none of your business," he growls, his hand hovering over his holster.

He doesn't know who she is or how she knows about the Child, but her words hit him hard.

The woman narrows her eyes, her lightsabers still ignited. "It is my business when it concerns the safety of a child. The Jedi are the guardians of peace and justice in the galaxy, even though there are only two left, it is our duty to protect those who cannot protect themselves."

Din grits his teeth and slowly pushes himself back up, his eyes never leaving the Jetii. "It's complicated," he answers, his voice tense.

The woman tilts her head, her eyes probing. "Complicated," she repeats, a note of skepticism in her voice.

"I am a Mandalorian. Our code of honour includes fulfilling one's obligations and completing jobs. I was obliged by my creed to finish the job." Din tries to reason but knows that even the Mandalorians don't leave children behind.

The woman's stance stiffens, her body a seething cauldron of rage, emanating a fiery aura. "Your creed should also include protecting the innocent, especially the young. You know as well as I do that the Imperials won't treat that child kindly. You had a chance to make a difference, to save a life, and you chose to ignore it."

Din's head droops in shame, the weight of the woman's words crushing him. He has fallen short of his Mandalorian code, failing to protect the youngling. "I... I know. I was wrong," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have to make it right. I have to get him back."

The woman's lightsabers fall silent, their deadly hum fading as she deactivates them. Din's gaze follows as she gracefully returns the weapons to her belt, then lowers the hood that had obscured her face.

And wow.

Din's heart quickens its pace as the woman lowers her hood, revealing her face at last. But it is not just her physical beauty that holds him captive. In her eyes, there burns a fierce intensity, a wisdom that he has never before encountered. 4

Her gaze pierces through him like a blaster bolt, and he feels a strange stirring within him, a stirring of awe and admiration.

It feels like she is seeing straight into the depths of his soul. A captivating aura emanates from her, enveloping Din in a trance-like state.

At this moment, all of his thoughts, concerns, and fears seem to vanish, leaving him lost in the hypnotic gaze of this enigmatic woman.

Din's mind goes blank as he gazes upon her, forgetting the conflict that had brought them face to face. The way the light dances around her, the gentle slope of her features, the spark in her gaze - all of it blends together to create a breathtaking portrait that he cannot help but be captivated by.

Her voice echoes in Din's mind, her words piercing through his thoughts like a sharp blade. He feels the weight of her gaze upon him, and he struggles to maintain his composure. Her presence is like a force of nature, commanding his attention with ease.

As she speaks, he finds himself lost in the rhythm of her words, the cadence of her voice like a soothing melody. He tries to focus on what she is saying, but his mind is distracted by the beauty of her being. The way she speaks, the way she stands it's as if he's in a dream that he never wants to wake up from.

'You're not a boy anymore,' he reminds himself, 'you're a bounty hunter, a Mandalorian.' The words echo in his mind, a mantra to steel himself.

He musters all his inner strength, fighting against the temptation to be entranced by her allure. He forces his mind back to the present, determined to cast aside the alluring distractions and attend to the matter at hand.

"I'll do whatever it takes to make it right," Din declares, his voice filled with a deep-seated conviction.

The woman nods a sense of understanding in her eyes. "I believe you," she says softly. "But words are meaningless without action. If you truly want to make it right, then you must find the Child and bring him back to his own kind, where he will be safe and learn more about himself."

He nods, determination setting in. "I won't let him be hurt."

The woman regards Din for a moment, before extending her hand out to help him up. "Good," she says, motioning to the Imperial Base with her head. "Because we have work to do."

Din feels a wave of gratitude washes over him at the woman's words. He had been so sure he was doing the right thing by handing the child over to the Imperials, but now he realizes the gravity of his mistake.

Accepting the woman's outstretched hand, Din rises to his feet, his heart still racing from the intensity of the fight. He looks at her with deep appreciation and nods in gratitude. The woman takes a step back, giving him space to retrieve his weapons from the ground.

As Din's hands reach for his rifle on the ground, a flicker of movement catches his attention from the corner of his eye, and his muscles tense as he recognizes the source.

Din's gaze follows as an astromech droid BB-8 unit rolls out from its spot, and over to the woman. Her smile shines like a sunbeam, casting a warm glow over everything around her. She kneels in front of the droid and tenderly pats its spherical head, a gesture that seems to radiate with pure kindness.

Din's eyes narrow, a flicker of suspicion crossing his features as he observes the woman's interaction with the astromech droid. His gut churns with a deep-seated distrust of the machines, borne from past traumas and scars.

The weight shifts on his feet, his body poised like a coiled spring, ready to strike if the droid were to make any sudden moves.

The woman senses Din's unease and rises to her feet, turning her gaze toward him. "Don't worry, Beeb has been with me since I was a child. He is on our side." she says reassuringly, a faint smile gracing her lips.

Din remains skeptical, but the woman's words give him pause. He relaxes slightly but keeps a watchful eye on the droid. "I've had my fair share of run-ins with droids. Can't say I trust them much," he admits gruffly.

The woman nods in understanding. "I understand, but please know that I built him myself and imbued him with the same spirit of loyalty and honor that I strive to embody. He has been with my brother and me through the toughest of battles. You have nothing to fear from him, Mandalorian."

Din considers her words for a moment, then gives a curt nod. "I'll take your word for it, but if that thing tries anything funny, he's getting a blaster bolt to the head."

The woman chuckles. "I wouldn't expect any less from a Mandalorian. But I assure you, Beeb is on our side."

As if sensing his hesitation, Beeb lets out a series of friendly beeps and chirps, rolling closer to Din and nuzzling against his leg. Din glances down at the droid, surprised by the show of affection.

The woman smiles knowingly, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "See? He's harmless."

Din grudgingly nods, still unsure of the droid's intentions. But he knows that he can trust the woman and by extension, Beeb. For now, at least.

Approaching him with confidence, the woman strides towards Din, her height just slightly shorter than his own. As she draws nearer, she speaks her name with a voice as soothing as a gentle stream and extends her hand for him to take, a gesture of respect and greeting.

Din takes a moment to compose himself before taking her hand, feeling a jolt of electricity shoot up his arm as they shake hands. He quickly withdraws his hand and takes a step back, surprised at his own reaction.

The woman raises an eyebrow, noticing his sudden shift in demeanor. "Is something wrong?" she asks, her voice laced with concern.

Din shakes his head, trying to push aside the strange sensation that lingers in his hand. "No, nothing's wrong. It's just that...I don't usually shake hands with strangers."

The woman chuckles softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "I understand. But I hope we can become more than strangers, Mandalorian."

"Mando. Call me Mando." Din says finally, the word rolling off his tongue with a certain weight.

He can sense the woman's surprise at his response, but he remains firm. He has learned to keep his true name hidden, even from those he trusts.

The woman's gaze locks onto Din's, and as she speaks his name, it rolls off her tongue like a sweet melody, a word to be savored and cherished. "Mando," she murmurs, her voice carrying the weight of reverence and admiration.

A stirring sensation dances in Din's chest as the woman utters his name once more. He's never heard it spoken with such curiosity and esteem, and the sound of it from her lips sends shivers down his spine.

"Shall we go, Mando?" With a graceful motion of her hand, the woman gestures toward the direction they should take.

Din nods in understanding, feeling drawn to her enigmatic presence. "Lead the way," he says, a subtle hint of admiration in his voice.

With steadfast purpose, the pair sets out on their journey, each step resolute and unyielding. Their goal is clear, a daunting challenge ahead, as Beeb follows along faithfully. Their mission: to rescue the Child, to keep the Imperial Agents at bay, and to ensure the youngling's safety at all costs.

Tag list: @babygirlrex0504 @alienated-green-tea @fatima-marisa @dindjarindude @sharin1806 @ruthyalva96 @avengersfan25

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[prolix-yuy]

Beginners guide to your fanfic tag game!

Thanks for the tag @wannab-urs! I was just thinking about what would be my quintessential to-read list, so let's get into it:

SW!Frankie: Francisco Morales x F!Reader Ms Jackson

This fic is truly the OG. I made most of my fandom friends from this series and it's still a wonderfully heart-filled story that I love to return to. A softer Frankie with an unexpected profession, it's sexy and fun and all the domestic bliss.

I Think of You: Din Djarin x F!Reader

My longest series words-wise (Frankie has more works!) and one that has so much more still planned out before it. This was the first fic I posted here and Mando was the whole reason I rekindled my love for writing, so it's a good place to start. It starts as a one-night stand and grows into two people navigating the galaxy (and their feelings for each other).

Best Laid Plans: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader Murch

I wrote the first part of this series on a whim after I really enjoyed playing with Dieter in Below the Line, but this really grew and became a story I would think about and plan out new chapters so easily. This is also one of my favorite Reader characters because I put a lot of myself into Murch, and seeing her get love makes me all emotional. A hesitant pairing up at a party reveals Dieter's true nature, and she accepts him with wild consequences.

Cognitive Dissonance/Decoherence: Jack Daniels x F!Reader Sugar, Westworld crossover

This is only the second series I've completed and boy, was it an incredible labor of love. From the research to the almost painful sections where they are trapped in the push-pull of attraction and fear, it was a rollercoaster I loved bringing to life. Jack as a host in Westworld wooing a guest - until he's a lot more than a host.

Bangathon 2023

This is technically cheating, but I'm so proud of all the stories and fun lil half-fics that came out of the impromptu Bangathon event I held last year. Plus, if you enjoy the format...better keep an eye out this summer. There may be another right around the corner...

NP tags: @iamskyereads @psychedelic-ink @pedrito-friskito @julesonrecord @trulybetty and @qveerthe0ry because you jut asked me this!

[callmedax]

My lovely friend @lessthantwelveparsecs introduced me to Luke’s students in the comics. Their names are Tai, Hennix, and Voe. She planted the idea of Luke finding Hennix as a small child or even the infant form of his species. The idea of Luke, Din, and their alien sons has inspired a lot of my art recently. I adore drawing domestic DinLuke. They deserve to find peace and happiness. I just finished up this drawing of Din giving their sons a sink bubble bath. It’s easier on his back than leaning over a bathtub.