#grogu is giggling a storm
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purple-goo-writes · 3 months ago
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I'm bringing this back an totally planning to wrote this later.
Don't know what to call it yet.
Also what is wally/danny ship called again
If "I'm with you until we Both Fall." Isn't the most Romantic and Mandolorian thing to say and isn't a Fucking Proposal, then Romance is dead.
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tightjeansjavi · 10 months ago
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trinkets
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A/N: so I woke up this morning thinking about Dieter & gumdrop—better known as trash panda and trash possum 🥺 I just love how silly they are together and I hope y’all do too!
~word count: 1.9k~ yeah—idk what happened lol
Summary: Dieter almost burns his script in front of the director, you’re at home writing Din Djarin fanfiction on your tumblr account, Oh! And something about Dieter cloning his cock in silicone?
Pairing | dieter bravo x f!reader
Warnings: none, fluff, implied smut (phone sex bby), language, dirty talk, dieter and the reader being a menace together, one mention of drugs, readers nickname is gumdrop/trash possum, reader has no physical descriptions, +18 minors dni!
series masterlist
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When Dieter is away for a new filming project, you end up house sitting for him because there is no one that he trusts more, (outside of his agent) than you, his gumdrop. Plus, he’s secretly hoping that if you spend more time in his home, that you’ll be open to moving in with him. It’s his genius plan that he of course came up with when he was stoned out of his mind.
He didn’t realize that he could just ask you to move in with him. That was far too simple!
So, for the month that Dieter was away filming, you were lounging in his home like a house cat. He called you multiple times a day to check in on you, and because he missed your voice terribly.
“What have you been up to today, gumdrop?” He was hunched over the side of his hotel bed at an awkward angle. It was a terrible day on set. He was used to the director making last minute changes to the scene, tweaking irrelevant details and minor character traits that no one would pay attention to. Dieter, however, was not prepared for his character's redemption arc to be completely fried to bits.
He compared it to what happens to an egg when you crack it on a pan that is too hot, and the whole thing ends up burnt and crusted onto the pan.
He was furious, and instead of just sticking it through, he stormed off set after he threatened to quit the film entirely.
“Hey, Dee!” You chirped enthusiastically through the receiver. “I’m out by the pool, with a fresh glass of homemade iced tea, and I’m finally getting to write the bit where my slow burn lovers are finally going to kiss!”
He felt his lips curving upwards into a lopsided smile at your enthusiasm as he pictured you in your sunglasses, typing away on your laptop, eyes dancing, little giggles slipping past your lips because he knew just how badly you wanted to write this next part.
“I miss you so fucking much, my little trash possum.” He sighed, scraping his hand down his face before he fell back against the comforter. “This is about that tin helmet dude, right? With the little green guy?”
“Oh, Diets, I miss you too, trash panda.” You paused your typing, reaching for your glass of iced tea and took a sip. “Yes, baby. Din Djarin and Grogu. Speaking of, when you come home next month, do you wanna go to Disneyland?”
“Are Din and the reader finally gonna kiss? Shit, is he gonna take his helmet off and break the creed? Please tell me he takes the helmet off!” He felt like one of your fellow dedicated readers on tumblr, anticipating when you would post the next chapter to one of your many prolific series. “Baby, I would absolutely love to go to Disneyland with you when I get home.”
You giggled softly, shaking your head and set your glass back down on the nearby table. “Dee, I can’t spoil it! You know this, baby. You’re just gonna have to wait for the update like everyone else.” You typed in a few more words to add to the current sentence you were working on before saying, “how’s filming going? Shouldn’t you be on set right now, baby?”
“Well, if I were the tin helmet man, I would absolutely take my helmet off and break my creed for you, Meshla. And then after that I would—” he grumbled and rolled over onto his stomach, “I left set because this fucking director is completely trashing the redemption arc that my character is supposed to have! I had all these cool ideas that pretty much have now just been flushed down the toilet, and I may, or may not have threatened to quit.”
“How romantic, Dee. You’d break your creed for me?” Your lips curved downwards into a set frown when he explained to you what happened on set. “Oh, Dieter, I’m so sorry. Why the hell would the director do that? It sounded like before that it was going really well, too.”
“I’d break every creed for you, gumdrop. But yeah, the guy is on fucking crack, I swear. It’s making my job so much more fucking difficult. Y’know, I thought that after winning my first Oscar that people in this bloodsucking industry would actually take me seriously. Guess not, huh? Guess I’m still just a fuckin’ joke in Hollywood’s eyes.” He scoffed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his ringed thumb and forefinger to suppress his oncoming tears.
“Baby, you are not a joke in Hollywood’s eyes, okay? If you and the director aren’t seeing eye to eye, I think you should give it one last shot to try and meet a middle ground? If he doesn’t budge, then I fully support you in quitting this job. You’re so passionate about your work, Dee. No reason to be pulling teeth just for a paycheck.” You reassured him, setting your laptop off to the side now so you could give your boyfriend your undivided full attention.
“And this is why I fucking love you, gumdrop. You always know how to validate me and talk me down. What the fuck would I do without you?” He stifled a chuckle. “So, I think I’m gonna give myself another hour to be pissed and grouchy about this, and then I’m gonna march my ass back to set, and give this dude a piece of my fucking—”
“Dieter.” You softly warned him.
“Baby, I’m kidding. But I am gonna try and see if he and I can reach a middle ground. And if we can’t, well, guess I’m coming home early, trash possum.”
“As much as I would love to see you sooner, I want this role to work out for you, Dee.”
“Me too, gumdrop.” He scratched at his beard with a sigh, and just when he was about to say more, there was a knock at his door and the familiar chime of his agent's voice. “I’ll call you later, okay? Cause I wanna hear all about the tin man kissing the reader, finally.”
“Okay, baby. Just remember, you’re my Dieter Bravo, and I’m so proud of you.”
“Love you to the moon and back, trash possum. Catcha on the flipside.” He ended the call, tossing his phone to the side and droned out, “You may enter.”
-
Later in the evening, and you were finalizing the final draft of the chapter, Dieter texted you and told you that the conversation with the director went well, and things were back on track.
Dee! This is great news, baby! I’m so happy for you 💗
Me too! He actually agreed that destroying my character's redemption arc was piss-poor writing, and he’s gonna have a new script ready for me in the morning. Did Din finally kiss the reader?
See what happens when you just communicate? So proud of you, baby. And maaaaybe. I just finished finalizing the chapter and now I just have to post it! 🤭
See, now if I never met you, I probably would have torn the guy a new one and then set the script on fire right in front of him. Y’know, like that scene in the Social Network, where Andrew Garfield’s gf sets the scarf on fire in his trash can? CLASSIC! Anyway, I’m gripping the edge of my seat! I can’t wait to read, gumdrop.
Ohhh! Yeah, that scene is a classic! I’m glad that you didn’t set your script on fire, Dee. I should have the chapter posted within the hour. Oh! And before I forget, when you come home next month…I have a surprise for you x.
Shiiii is it you naked in my bed and touching yourself? Is that the surprise? 🥵
Well that’s part of it! Butttt you’ll just have to wait and see! 😉
Oh, sure, tease me, why don’t ya? Got my cock stupid hard already, you little filthy thing.
Pics or it didn’t happen!
Tell me if Din and the reader kiss, then I’ll send you a pic ;)
You are a little shithead
Tell me something I don’t already know, gumdrop 🥰
Fine. Fine. They kiss! He takes his helmet off, but she doesn’t see his face. She keeps her eyes closed because she doesn’t want him to break his creed for her 🥺
Damn, that just made my heart & my cock ache :( Din is such a romantic! Be still, my foolish heart. Your readers are gonna eat that shit up, babygirl.
Please show me. That clone your willy dildo you got me just isn’t the same. And yeah, he is such a romantic! Just like you 💗
Oh, fuck. Are you using it on yourself right now? Hold on, I’m gonna FaceTime you! I need to see this for myself 😉
I miiight be.
Seconds after sending that text, Dieter FaceTimes you and his freehand is already slowly and gently fisting his cock in your view just as he sees you fucking yourself with the silicone dildo of his cloned cock.
“So pretty, good golly. You take my fake cock so well, gumdrop.”
-
It’s hours before Dieter’s flight into LAX is expected to arrive. You had just finished moving in all of your belongings from your apartment, including all of your silly little trinkets and knick knacks that you have now displayed on every available surface in his home.
Tiny animal figurines, built lego sets, little trinkets and bobbles and you even went and bought a cabinet to store yours and Dieter’s Funko Pop collection. Little pieces of yourself and your exuberant personality were scattered about the house. You were, in some ways, like a crow; you loved to collect pretty and shiny things.
When Dieter arrived home, bag slung over his shoulder, and under his eyes, the first thing he noticed was the stack of cardboard boxes neatly stacked next to the front door and his heart immediately swelled at the sight.
“Gumdrop?” He called for you, kicking his shoes off on the rainbow doormat next to yours.
He padded further into the house, stopping at the cabinet with your shared Funko Pop collection and into the kitchen where he saw that along the window sill, you had an array of different animal figurines lined up in a row, and the very first two animals were a little ceramic racoon and possum.Then he finally saw you, lounged out by the pool, typing away like a maniac on your laptop.
He dropped his bag to the floor and pulled open the sliding back door to accompany you outside.
You looked up from the screen at the familiar sound, lips curving upwards into a grin that stretched across your entire face. “Dieter!” You said enthusiastically, setting your laptop off to the side and ran over to him, nearly slipping into the pool on your way because you were so excited.
He met you halfway, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you so tightly it felt like the oxygen was being crushed out of your lungs.
“Hey there, my little crow. You moving in or something?” He said teasingly, loosening his grip around you as your arms looped around his neck, “Cause, I was gonna ask you to move in at some point but I just—”
You shushed him with a kiss, molding your lips against his in a warm embrace. “Surprise.” You carded your fingers through his hair, tugging him in closer, “You’re stuck with me now, trash panda.”
He smiled against your lips, kissing you back deeply, giving your ass a playful squeeze as you yelped in surprise, giving him full access to lick into your mouth, “Wouldn’t’ want to have it any other way, trash possum.”
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secondaxispoint · 2 years ago
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Din Djarin x Male!Mando!Reader
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Pairing: Din Djarin x Male!Mando!Reader
Warning: None!
Content: Fluff
This is from Din’s perspective so the reader has a nickname. No use of y/n. Hope you guys enjoy!
Partners
Din had been so used to living alone that when another Mandalorian offered to join him in his travels, it took him a while to come to terms with it. The man was quiet and intelligent. He was a bit taller than him and had a broad frame. Din had watched the other hunter in action and was surprised he had never met him before. His reddish tinted beskar and durasteel armour looked similar to his own, Mandalorian sigil forged proudly on his shoulder.
Once Din had stepped on board, along with his new partner, he was pleasantly greeted by Grogu. He smiles under his helmet and leans down to pick the creature up. He turns to the other man and starts introductions.
“This is Grogu, Grogu this is…”
He pauses, releasing that he never got a name from the other hunter. He looks up from the little beast he held in his arms. A bit of tension left his shoulders when he heard the warrior laugh through his helmet and step a bit closer.
“Jackal. Nice to meet you little guy.”
Din watches as he leans down and reaches a hand to Grogu who giggles happily and grabs one of his gloved fingers. 
“You can get to know him after we get out of here. For now you should get familiar with the controls and layout of the ship.”
Jackal nods and Grogu releases his grip. Din puts him down and makes for the small area where he keeps his weapons. Jackal’s rifle is still clasped to his back and his blaster is still on his hip. He’d have to clear a spot for the other’s weapons. But for now, Din puts his stuff away and leads the man to the very front of the ship. When he hears Jackal’s footsteps become irregular, he looks back to see that Grogu has attached himself to the taller man's calf.
“Y’know it would be easier for both of you if you just picked him up.”
He heard Jackal stifle a laugh as he bent down to pick up the clingy child. Once he had Grogu securely in his arms, he continued on behind Din.
It took a few hours, but the three finally found a safe place to rest for a while. Jackal volunteered to stay up a bit longer due to the lack of space in the ship. Din felt sort of bad but trusted the man to his own devices. He tried to retreat back to his and Grogu’s cramped sleeping quarters but the little one refused to go with him. Grogu climbed up and forced himself into Jackal’s lap. He chuckled and told Din that it was okay and that he would watch over Grogu while he slept.
Din had slept through most of the night, only waking when he heard a quiet knock on the shudder. He opens it to see Jackal standing with a sleeping Grogu in his arms. He silently shuffled out of the sleeping area and offered it to the other. Jackal had a bit tougher time fitting in the makeshift bed but he made it work. Din stretched and prepared himself for the day.
Two years later, the three of you were still together. Din and Jackle had been dancing around their feelings for eachother for over half of it. They shared little moments here and there but never explicitly confronted the other about it. Neither of them wanted to ruin the partnership that they had been building. So feelings continue to go unacknowledged. At least they do until a bounty goes sideways and Jackal almost gets himself killed trying to save Din.
So they both sit in the Razor Crest, panting and bloody. The ship was completely silent besides the ragged breaths coming from the hunters. Grogu was safe and sound with Peli, far away from the shit storm the two created for themselves. Din noticed the stiff and pained posture Jackal had taken. He stood and walked over to the medical area, grabbing a kit, and bringing it back to Jackal.
Din assisted Jackal, laying him down on the floor, and taking his armour off. Albeit not being the cleanest place to tend to an open wound, it was all they had at the moment. With his chest piece off and his weapon put aside, Jackal helped pull the undershirt up enough so that Din could tend to his injury. He had a large vertical gash on his lower left abdomen. Din saw that his midsection was littered with varying healed scars.
He stitches up and bandages the slash before leaning back giving the other some breathing room. Sitting back on his heels, he watched Jackal’s chest rise and fall steadily. Jackal reaches a hand to Din, which he grasps in his own. He helped the man sit up and get up into the co-pilot’s seat in the control room. He grabbed a fresh set of clothes for the injured hunter and gave him some privacy to change. Din stood outside the door, nervously swaying back and forth.
He waited for Jackal to trudge out, hand on his side. Din let out a sigh of relief and offered Jackal his armour back. He didn’t put it back on, instead opting to set it aside and sitting back down in his seat with a groan. Din moved behind him, too restless to sit. He put his hand on the back of Jackal’s chair and spun it around. He wanted to make absolute sure that his partner was going to be okay.
Jackal tilted his head, confused. Din knelt down in front of him with his hands on both sides of the armrests. Jackal said nothing but leaned forward slightly. Din moved his hands down to Jackal’s knees, not pressing any further, just simply setting them there. Din could hear his breath hitch through his helmet. Jackal sat stiff and still until Din started to pull away. Neither man said anything. Jackal grabbed one of Din’s hands and pulled him up to eye level. Slowly leaning forward, Din gently touched his helmet to Jackal’s. He leaned back and sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
Jackal asked, genuinely concerned. Din looked up, and got an idea.
“Do you trust me?”
Din asked the man in front of him.
“With my life.”
The ease with which he said it made Din a bit dizzy.
“Sit tight.”
Din walked to the control panel and Jackal heard him flip a few switches. The lights dimmed and then turned off fully, leaving the men in almost complete darkness. Din carefully moved back in front of Jackal and kneeled in front of him once again. He slowly takes his helmet off and audibly sets it down, hoping Jackal knows what he’s implying. Luckily he does.
He hears Jackal take off his helmet and gently presses it into his hand for him to put down. After placing the helmet down next to his own, Din leaned back up. He stopped about an inch away, he could feel Jackal’s breath on his face.
“Is this okay?”
Din asked in a hushed tone. Instead of responding, Jackal closed the distance between them. The kiss is slow and meaningful. Almost two years of pent up feelings and unresolved tension shone through their intimacy. Jackal moved his hand up and rested it on the back of Din’s neck, the other cupped his jaw. Din tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
Jackal was the first to pull away for air but Din didn’t want the kiss to end. He moved down to pepper Jackal’s neck in love bites and small kisses. Din felt a groan rumble in the back of Jackal’s throat. He finally pulled back and listened to the other man pant in the darkness. Din started to stand up but before he could, Jackal grabbed his hands once again. Only this time he pulled Din towards him.
Din was tugged into Jackal’s lap. Once he was comfortable and not anywhere near Jackal’s injury, Din grabbed both sides of his face and yanked him in again. This time their kiss was more heated. Hands wandered. They both made the most of it since they were probably never going to see each other's faces. Jackal felt the stubble on Din’s face, and ran his fingers through his soft hair.
Although Din couldn’t see, he could imagine what the man in front of him looked like. Flushed cheeks with half-lidded and glossed over eyes. He felt as his cheeks started to burn at the thought. Din was shocked back into reality by a pained groan coming from Jackal. He jumped out of the man’s lap and apologised for losing focus.
“It’s alright Din I’m okay. But maybe we should take a little break for today.”
Jackal chuckled lightly and Din smiled into the darkness. Din fumbled around the ground and grabbed the helmets, putting his on and handing Jackal his. Once both of the Mandalorians were covered, Din slowly turned the lights back on. He saw Jackal, still seated, with his clothes a bit ruffled. He was breathing a bit heavier than normal but other than that he looked okay. He walked back over and offered to lead the fellow hunter back to the makeshift bed with a concealed smile. Jackal accepted his offer gratefully, and the two packed themselves in the small space. They both slept peacefully for the first time in years.
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wakandas-vibranium · 2 years ago
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Planet Earth 2023 || Part Six
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Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader
Warnings: 18+ content, minors DNI, smutty smut, oral(m receiving), unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, praise kink, creampie
Word count: 3.7k
A/N: Sorry for the delay! Please like, comment, and reblog!
part one
part two
part three
part four
part five
The next day was pretty much the same. You played with Grogu while Din worked on his ship, made dinner, hung out until they went to bed. It was becoming your new normal and you loved it. You were starting to care deeply for the aliens. 
You tried to go to bed when they conked out, but you couldn’t sleep. You laid wide awake in your bed, tossing and turning. Thunderclaps as lightning strikes your ears; the windows vibrated slightly as the rain pounded on the roof and pinged against the glass window panes. It was the perfect weather for sleeping, yet you were still wide awake. It was the perfect cuddling weather too, you thought, but Din was down the hall in the guest room with his son, probably sleeping. 
You thought about your ex and how stupid he was to fumble you. You thought about Din and how you wanted to move some furniture around with him. Multiple times in a row. You sighed deeply, flipping back the covers and getting out of bed. You snagged your laptop off the dresser before heading into the living room. 
It was perfectly normal for you to be awake at three in the morning playing video games. You adjusted the volume on your laptop, being careful not to wake Din and Grogu. Even if Grogu was the heaviest sleeper you had ever met.
You wandered over to the couch, settled yourself down, and tucked a leg under you before opening your laptop and playing your go-to game.
“What kind of storm is this?” Din asked, a hint of worry in his voice as he rounded the corner from the hall into the living room, “Should we be taking shelter?”
You jumped slightly at his voice. He must have heard you get up. He was such a silent walker. You contemplated putting a small bell on his helmet. 
The corners of your eyes crinkled and your lips curved upwards as you giggled, “It’s just a regular thunderstorm, Din.” 
“Well, I’ve never heard thunder this loud.” 
“Florida gets a lot of loud thunderstorms in the summer.” 
“I’m starting to think you’re the only good thing that comes from this planet.” 
You let out a full blown laugh then and shrugged, “You get used to it.” 
“I don’t think I ever will.” Din admitted, plopping down next to you on the couch.
"Is Grogu okay?" you asked, shifting your gaze away from the computer screen for a moment to glance at him.
“Yeah,” he nodded. “That little one can sleep through just about anything.” 
When he noticed that you were no longer looking at him, he switched his attention to the laptop and watched you play a game for a few seconds before asking, "What is that?"
You told him, "It's a game called Tetris," before kissing your teeth in frustration since you had missed a perfect spot for the red block. "Wanna learn how to play?"
He gave you a little nod of his head and scooched closer to you, his arm brushing up against yours as he concentrated on the screen. "What do I have to do?" he asked.
“I have to warn you it can get pretty addicting.” 
You briefed him on the rules, strategies, and tactics necessary to win the game. You assured him he would never be able to beat your high score. As you handed him the laptop, he huffed lightheartedly, almost laughed, and said, "Yeah, we'll see." 
About fifteen minutes, or four rounds, later, he had the gist of it. He let out a string of karks when he was too slow to position a block, and you had to hide your smirk behind the palm of your hand. His helmet was on, so you couldn't tell if he was aware you were laughing at him.
When he cleared four lines back to back, you made yourself comfortable against his side, rested your head against his shoulder, yawned quietly, and eventually drifted off to sleep.  
Your eyelids flitted open, and the bright glow of your computer screen caused you to squint. Din was engrossed in another game of Tetris, determined to beat your high score. 
You checked the time on the screen. It was 6:24 am. You were asleep for about three hours. You wondered when you shifted from his shoulder to his lap and why he didn’t feel the need to move you off of him. 
He was so immersed in the game that he didn't even feel you stir awake in his lap. "Dank farrik!" He tried to curse quietly as he missed the perfect space for a block. Your shoulders shook as you began to chuckle. When he felt movement, he finally took his attention away from the screen and peered down at you.
“Did I wake you?” His modulated voice whispered.
You half-shrugged and said, "Probably," before sitting up and searching the screen for his score. He wasn't even close to your high score, but he did close the gap significantly, "I told you that game was addicting." 
“I should’ve believed you,” he said warmly. You could hear the smile in his voice. 
The desire to see his face became stronger with each passing day. You were curious about what he looked like under the helmet. Your imagination no longer sufficed. Even if it was simple, you were curious about the hue of his hair. Were his eyes brown? You always melted for brown eyes. Did he have an impressive set of teeth that sparkled like pearls? What kind of facial hair did he have, or was his face clean-shaven? Because he was staying with you for about two weeks now, he most likely lacked a clean shave.
“Come on,” you called as you stood up, extended your hand for him to hold, and hauled him off the couch. He carefully placed the laptop on the coffee table, intertwining your fingers as he followed you through the house.
“Where are we going?” Din asked as you reached over to one of the entryway drawers and grabbed a dry towel before unlocking the front door and dragging him through it with you.
"I want to show you one of my favorite things to do in the morning," you explained as you finished drying the seat before sitting down on the porch swing, patting the space beside you with your free hand for him to sit. He sat down with you, his hand still clasped in yours. You two sat in a comfortable silence, hand in hand, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh, waiting for the sun to rise. 
Birds began to trill as the sun started to rise slowly and warmed the morning sky. The gator pond transformed into a mirror of sunlight, reflecting the light pink and vibrant orange sky, and the night’s shadows disappeared. The bright ember of light bounced off his beskar helmet, revealing you both. 
“It’s breathtaking, isn’t it?” you asked, beaming up at the beautiful sky. 
You've been watching the sunrise since you were in elementary school. It was a cherished memory of yours. Something meaningful you and your father did every morning, and you wanted to share it with Din. He'd obviously seen a sunrise before, but he'd never seen how stunning the sun looked as it rose in a summer morning in Florida. It was mesmerizing.
“It is.” Din agreed, not taking his eyes off you for a second. 
- - - - - 
Din and Grogu joined you in preparing dinner that night. It went far better than you anticipated. You didn't like it when people were in the kitchen with you while you were cooking. They'd always just end up getting in the way. Din and Grogu, on the other hand, followed the directions well enough and contributed to a wonderful beef stew. 
“I’ll put Grogu to bed so you can finish eating,” you whispered as you scooped the little one up into your arms. He’d been dozing off into his bowl for the last five minutes. He ate so much he probably put himself in a food coma. 
You cleaned Grogu up, dressed him in the orange and blue pajamas you made for him, and tucked him into bed in the guest bedroom he shared with his dad. It didn’t take him long to fall back asleep. 
You stopped inside your room to use the bathroom and wash your hands before returning to the front. Din had finished his dinner and was still seated at the dining room table, waiting for you to return.
“So…how do you have sex with all that beskar on?” you blurted once you were back in the dining room with Din. 
Din flushed all the way down to his chest and you sank your teeth into your bottom lip, fighting back an evil grin. You secretly liked it when he removed his beskar armor so you could look at his neck. You dreamt of sucking a bruise into a particular delicious-looking area on the bottom right side of his thick neck.
He cleared the lump in his throat before answering, “I only have to keep the helmet on.” 
"Hmm," you hummed curiously, taking another sip from your glass of Cabernet Sauvignon.
“Why do you ask?”
“I guess I’m just trying to piece together how you made Grogu,” you admitted, which was the truth, but obviously that wasn’t the only reason you were asking. 
He explained to you that he didn't actually make Grogu himself and how he found the green little womp rat years ago while he was out collecting on a bounty. You were even more moved by the story now. You had a soft spot for found families.
You two moved to the living room and lounged around on the couch for another hour or so, chatting, before you decided to take a shower and then retire to bed. Din nodded and wished you a good night.
While you were doing your pre bedtime routine of brushing your teeth and washing your face, you decided to turn on the shower and let the water heat up.
Your curly hair was safe underneath the shower cap as you stood under the shower nozzle and let the steaming water pour over the top of your head and down your tight shoulders. As always, the water pressure felt fantastic as it pounded against your smooth skin. 
You wiped the washcloth over your breasts and down your stomach gradually, sighing softly as you reminisced about your conversation with Din. He indicated he'd had sex numerous times and that every time, he kept his helmet on. You could work with that, but you still thought of ways he’d be able to fuck you without the helmet. You wanted to feel his lips brush against your soft skin. You wanted to know what his voice sounded like without the modulator. 
You felt your clit throb, and you moaned lightly when the washcloth brushed over the sensitive bud. Before you had the chance of touching yourself even more, you rinsed yourself and twisted the handle off. You were going to use one of your toys that you kept hidden in your bedside drawer to get off tonight.
You wiped your palm across the foggy mirror and screeched at the top of your lungs as you laid eyes on a metal helmet right behind you. 
“Holy shit, Din!” You yelped as you turned around and smacked his bare chest. 
“Sorry,” he apologized, chuckling lightly. 
“You scared the fuck outta me,” you said, laughing in between harsh breaths, “Why are you—” You came to a stop once you realized that Din was butt ass naked and his cock was standing at full attention. You bit back a moan at the sight of him. You wanted him carnally. 
“You’re n-naked.” you breathed, pointing out the obvious as you took a cautious step towards him. 
“Yes,” he said, taking a step towards you. 
“Why?” you asked, taking another step towards him. 
“I figured you’d want a demonstration on how us Mandalorians have sex.” 
“You would be right.” 
You had never got the chance to see him like this. Completely naked minus the helmet of course. Wow. Your imagination didn’t do Din any justice. His body was breathtaking, scars and all. You didn’t know where to put your hands first. Too many tasty options.
You drew closer to one another and wrapped your arms around his neck as he lifted you up and placed you on the top of the bathroom sink. 
Din caressed your inner thighs with his large hands and you sighed deeply. 
He brought his thick fingers against your lips, and you swiftly took them in your mouth and began vigorously sucking on them. 
“Fuck— I’ve been wanting to do this for days now, Tulip.” he admitted, groaning as you took his fingers deeper into your mouth. 
"Me too, Din," you moaned around his fingers.
As his free hand twisted and pulled at your nipple, you whimpered softly. He slipped his fingers out of your mouth and pressed them against your throbbing clit, massaging the sensitive bud hard and slow, making your body jerk slightly in anticipation. That tight coil inside of you slowly unraveled, signifying that your climax was approaching.
He ran his middle finger down your wet slit and slipped his finger inside of you, pressing hard and deep. 
“Oh please,” you panted, eyes fluttering closed in sheer pleasure.
“Tell me mesh’la,” he purred against your ear, making you shiver, “What do you want?”
“Add another f-finger please,” you said. 
He dipped another finger inside you, spreading his fingers out to stretch you even more. 
“Yessss. Please don’t stop, Din. I’m gonna cum.” You whimpered. 
Din angled his two fingers and drove them faster into you, curling them up when he got as deep as he could, driving you insane and making you shout his name over and over. 
“Cum for me, Tulip.” He demanded. 
And that’s just what you did. 
Your mouth fell open and your thighs shook as you came on his thick fingers. Once you came down he titled his helmet up a bit and brought his fingers to his lips to suck at your juices.
“Mmhmm,” he moaned at the delicious taste, “I knew you’d taste this good.” 
He pulled you off the sink and walked you backward into your bedroom. The backs of your knees hit the bed, and you plopped down on it, peering up at him as he stood before you, naked as the day he came and rock hard.
You reached out and wrapped your hand around his cock, drawing him closer. When his cock was right in front of your face, you kissed the tip before licking up the sides of his shaft.
You take the crown of his cock between your lips and he went rigid, letting out a slew of curses as his hands grab at your curls. You hum as you taste the precum, swirling your tongue around the head before taking him deeper into your mouth. 
“Fuck—” he grunted lowly as you began to bob your head up and down while your hand stroked his shaft, “Your mouth feels so fucking good, pretty girl.” 
You opened your jaw wider and took him down a few more inches so he could feel your throat swallowing around him.
"Ah fuck—cyar'ika," he panted harshly, "You have to stop or I’ll cum." 
You moaned loudly, gazing up at Din through your eyelashes. Your eyes watered as you hollowed your cheeks, taking in as much of him as you could, gagging a little as the tip of his cock slipped down the back of your throat.
“Fuck!” He rasped, gently pushing your shoulders as he took a step back, his cock falling out of your mouth with a loud pop.
You couldn't help but giggle as he shook his head affectionately at you.
“Can you please take this off?" you asked, tapping your fingers against his helmet, "I want to be able to kiss you when you're inside me."
“Tulip, I can’t ta—” he started to say as he shook his head reluctantly but you cut him off. 
“—Blind fold me," you said, reaching for the orange head scarf on your dresser before he could move his lips to say no. 
“Are you sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure. I know I can’t see you, but I at least want to feel you.” 
He took the scarf in his hands, folded it twice, and brought it up to your eyes. He wrapped it around your head and tied it behind your head in a perfect knot.
“Can you see anything?”
“No,” you whispered. You couldn’t see a damn thing. 
“Jate,” he uttered. Earlier that week you learned that that meant good in Mando’a. 
There was a brief moment of silence, followed by a tiny hiss of air and the dull thud of beskar hitting the tile floor.
Then next thing you knew a pair of mustache-tipped lips brushed against yours. You gasped against his lips before you blindly pulled him closer and kissed him back with all the passion you could muster. He groaned lowly and kissed you back with just as much zeal, cupping your cheeks to deepen the kiss. The small bottle of wine you two had shared over dinner left a smooth flavor on his soft lips. 
“Lay back for me,” he said as he broke the kiss and pushed you gently onto your back. He made sure you were comfortable, moving a couple of pillows under your head before climbing on top of you and slotting himself between your spread legs. His cock brushed against your clit and an embarrassing noise slipped past your lips, but you were too turned on to give a damn.
He lined himself up with your entrance, dragging the tip of his cock up your wet slit and rubbing teasing circles into your clit, making you gasp and shudder underneath him in anticipation.
Din pushed inside, sliding in slowly until he was full seated inside of you. You let out a sharp breath as he split you open on his cock. You were full, almost overwhelming so. It’d been a while. Years.
“Fucking tight—Nghh,” Din hissed, pulling out a little and pushing back in, watching your pussy stretch around him. “You’re squeezing me, Tulip.” 
“Please move, Din,” you moaned softly, reaching out blindly to find his chest. Once you did you ran his nipple between your thumb and pointer finger, tugging gently. He let out a groan and he leaned forward a bit to kiss that very hand that pinched his nipples. 
At first, he moved slowly, rocking his hips as he adjusted to the vice-like grip you had on him. He was exceedingly responsive. That only made you wetter for him. You wished you could have seen the look on his face when he slid inside you for the first time.
He moved his hand that gripped your waist up to your breast, giving it a strong squeeze as he began to pick up the pace. You dropped your hand from his chest and squeezed your other breast, pinching your nipple the exact way you pinched his.
“You feel so fuckin’ good, Din,” you whined, choking on a sob as his hips slammed into yours, setting a relentless pace. Slap, slap, slap, slap. 
As he leaned down to take your nipple into his mouth, he slid his hand back down to grip your waist, circling his tongue around the hard bud before gently tugging it between his teeth. You arched against the bed, crying out in pleasurable pain.
The inability to see heightened your hearing. You just moaned desperately for him, your head thrashing wildly against the pillows, listening to the filthy noises of him pounding your tight pussy and the deafening squelching of your juices as he drove into your g-spot. It took everything in your power not to scream at the top of your lungs. He felt so good. Too good, almost.
He caught your lips in a scorching kiss. You clasped his face in your hands and opened your mouth, licking into him, tongues swirling with each other.
“Goddamnit,” you whined against his lips as he began to circle his hips, your g spot singing as he kept hitting it over and over, “Fuck me just like that, Din.” 
“Whatever you want, baby. Your pussy feels so good.”
“Fuuuck! I’m cu—” you cried out as your orgasm ripped through your belly, sending a wave of euphoria all over your spent body. You arched up into him, clamping down on his huge cock and trying so hard not to scream.
“That’s a good fucking girl,” Din growled as he fucked you through your orgasm, “Stars—you look so pretty when you’re cumming on my cock, Tulip.” 
“Din,” you whimpered at the praise. All you could do was call out his name. “Din, Din, Din—“
“—Fuck— Nghh, m’gonna cum, baby,” he groaned loudly as he hammered into you, fucking the literal breath right out of your lungs. 
“Shit—cum inside m-me, Din please,“ you begged, reaching between your bodies to rub tight circles into your swollen clit. 
He sank his teeth into the spot where your neck met your shoulder, letting out a low guttural groan as he spilled inside you, grinding his hips into yours as he filled you up with his warm cum.
Your hand was trapped between the two of you, and with the pressure of his hips grinding into yours, you came again, clenching tighter around him and squeezing more cum out of his cock. Din whined loudly, slightly trembling as you wrapped your free arm across his sweat-glistening back, bringing him closer to your body. Nothing but sweat loomed between the two of you.
You couldn’t see a thing; your eyes were wet with hot tears of pleasure that soaked through the blindfold. Your mind had become mushy and fuzzy. A coherent thought was nowhere to be found.
You were both blissed out and shivering, the aftershocks flowing through both of you as you embraced each other tightly. 
209 notes · View notes
millersdjarin · 2 years ago
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I Only See Daylight
Chapter Four
Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader
Rating: E (eventually)
Chapter warnings/tags: slow burn, dad!din, bonding, injuries (not in detail), negative self-talk, mentions of past trauma/abuse
Chapter Length: 4.2k
Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist & Info
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notes: im sorry this chapter is a bit shorter than the others! if it's any consolation, a few of the chapters in this fic are 10k, so there's that. :) i've set a posting schedule of mondays and thursdays, but this week i'm posting on sunday because i'm going to be travelling on monday and i have to stay off tumblr to avoid tlou spoilers until the evening. so, surprise :)
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i don't wanna look at anything else now that i saw you
“How do you feel?” Is the first thing you hear when you wake, rolling over on your makeshift bed to find Mando standing at the cave entrance again. He’s leaning against the wall with one shoulder, his hip cocked out, one leg bent casually. 
Kriffing hells, how is he so attractive when all you can see of him is his posture and his impossibly shiny armour? 
You force the thought from your mind, blaming it on your half-asleep state. 
“I don’t know yet,” you answer with a grimace. It’s been two days since your fall. The pain is better, though the rest of your body feels stiff now, muscle soreness finally catching up with you after the tumble. There hasn’t been another storm, at least, so Mando has managed to hunt for every meal so far. He goes out to get water every morning, filling canteens to the brim. He makes you drink so much that sometimes it feels like you’re swimming in it. “Hydration helps with healing,” he says every time, even though you already know; he says it just to counter your playful glaring at him every time he hands you the flask. 
“Sun rose not that long ago,” he cranes his neck to gaze up at the sky, “if you’re feeling up to it, we can probably travel today.” 
You manage to sit up, but the minute you do, pain shoots down from the wound on your calf and into your ankle. It circles there around the joint and throbs. “Have we got any more ice packs?” 
“One more,” Mando answers as he heads right over to his medpack and gets it out. 
“We should ration it,” you hold out your hand to stop him activating it. “For when we’re travelling. I’ll probably need it.” 
He looks down at the pack, hesitates. Then nods and puts it away. “Do you think you’ll be okay to travel today? If so, we should move soon, make the most of the daylight.”
Shifting a little, you try to get a gage on your body, how it feels. A grimace makes its way onto your face without your consent. Everything hurts. Literally everything. Muscles you didn’t even know you had are strained and stiff. 
But you’ve been here for two days. He’s been stranded here for four. 
“If the answer is anything but yes,” his voice cuts through your rapidly declining thoughts, “then my answer is no.” 
Relieved, you smile. But you protest, “Mando, you’ve stayed with me so long now. I can make my own way back.” 
“No,” he says definitively. “We move when you’re ready.” 
You relax, settling back against the wall. You’re too sore to argue. 
“The kid’s enjoying the vacation, anyway,” Mando says, the lilt of a smile in his voice. 
As if summoned, Grogu steps forward from his little bed at the back of the cave. He yawns, his tiny mouth opening as wide as it can go, his eyes screwing shut. 
Oh, Maker, he is adorable. 
“You take time off a lot?” You ask with a wry smile as Mando scoops the kid up into his arms. 
The huff of a laugh comes through his helmet. “Not really.” 
“Why am I not surprised?”
Mando tickles Grogu’s cheek, earning a little giggle. 
You watch them. There’s that warmth again, creeping its way between your ribs, around your heart. 
You have to look away. 
All three of you are starting to get a little stir crazy by the time the night comes around. 
You’re feeling better, though. Mando’s hydration obsession is working to help loosen out your stiff muscles. It doesn’t help, though, that you have to keep getting up every hour to pee. Especially because you have to tell Mando every time nature calls, which is, admittedly, rather humiliating—it shouldn’t be, it’s fucking natural, but he’s Mando and he’s been making you feel a certain way, and you don’t want to have to admit to this terrifying yet comforting man that you have to piss. It’s even worse that he has to help you hobble outside, then walk away while you do your business, and come back and pretend to not notice the puddle sinking into the ground. 
It’s demoralising. Your cheeks are tired from flushing red all the time. 
But he insists on you drinking enough, even when you protest. 
“I don’t mind doing this, you know,” he says as the sun sets, an arm around you as you hobble to the designated Nature Area. 
“Yes, you do,” you grumble, kind of just wanting the ground to open up and swallow you whole. 
“I don’t,” he insists. “It’s fine. Besides, it’s good to move a little.” 
“A little? Mando, it’s every hour, on the hour, at this point.” 
The unfamiliar sound of a soft laugh comes through his helmet. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say it sounded fond. But you’ve never heard a laugh like that. So. “It’s good. Just call me back when you’re ready.” 
He never comes back until you call, no matter how long it takes you.
It isn’t lost on you, either, that you never would have been able to do this on your own. You’d have had to piss where you sat. Which seems like a worse concept than just ruining your leg, and subsequent mobility, forever by forcing yourself to walk home. 
As darkness approaches, Mando takes his flashlight—yours is long dead by now—and puts it in the far end of the cave. He stays over there, rustling in his pack for something. Curious, you watch, wondering what he’s doing; he angles the light strangely, propping it up with a few stray rocks on the ground, and then fishes out a small piece of canvas, pulled from what remained of your tent. He puts it over the flashlight, folds it once. 
Then, the light is softer. Diffused around the cave. 
Grogu, who is sitting against the wall playing with a little silver ball, looks up at the newly-lit cave walls and laughs in glee. 
“You like it, kid?” Mando asks him. 
The kid claps his hands together, gazing around. Mando laughs softly and sits back down beside the kid, watching him. 
You’re watching Mando. It’s impossible not to, with the soft light reflecting from his armour in a new way, casting new highlights and shadows across every curve and edge. You wonder what places he’s been, how he’d look in all kinds of light. Harsh, bright, sunshine of a bright summer’s day, the dark ashy colour beneath rain clouds. 
“Mando?” You find yourself saying. 
He looks up at you, one hand holding the kid. 
“Tell me about somewhere else you’ve been,” you request. “Please?” 
“Where do you want to hear about?” 
“Anywhere. First place that comes to mind.” 
For a second, he’s quiet, just looking at you. Considering. When he speaks, he doesn’t say what you expected him to, and his voice is softer than it should be. “You really want to travel, don’t you?” 
And, okay. 
That hits a nerve. 
You look away, blinking. It’s clear that you’ve tensed, that something has made you uncomfortable; and you expect him to backtrack, to apologise, but he just waits. So patient, like he wouldn’t mind if you didn’t say anything, or even if you just told him to fuck right off. You wish you could see his face, decipher his expression. Match it to the soft curiosity of his lovely voice. 
“Yeah,” you manage on a shaky breath, imagining yourself up there, in the vastness of space, free to explore the Galaxy. “Yeah, I do.” 
Quiet again. He’s giving you space. 
You take it, let it sink in. 
Then, his voice is there again, “So why don’t you?”
And if that isn’t a question and a half. “It’s, uh,” you clear your throat. You’re about to say it’s complicated. But that doesn’t even cover the half of it. Instead, feeling a cold, familiar dread slowly creeping through your veins, you say, “I like it here.” 
He doesn’t say anything, but he looks at you still, some kind of unexplainable patience coming from his dark visor. 
It’s unclear if he can hear the omission of the truth.
You don’t want to lie to him. 
You’re sitting here, in a cave that he so beautifully lit as best he can, on top of a bed that he made just for you to be comfortable, after he’s helped you pee about twelve times a day for the last two days. He’s been nothing but kind. 
And it’s not that you feel like you owe him answers because of that. Nor, in fact, that you think he feels you owe him answers. His quiet, unassuming patience in the dim intimacy of this cave is proof enough of that. 
No, it’s not that. 
It’s that you’ve been alone for so long. You’ve never said this to anyone.
And after all this, once you’re back at your hut and you’ve fixed his ship together, he’s going to leave. And you’re never going to see him again, anyway. 
So. 
“Truthfully,” you say, “as much as I like it here, it’s not where I’d choose to be. If I had another choice.” 
Instead of staying still and silent, he starts to nod. His gaze is unwavering, solid and stable, weaving its way into the tension and uncertainty beneath your skin, soothing it.
Grogu gets up and waddles over to you. He climbs clumsily into your lap.
Then, with a quick look to Grogu, Mando says, “I understand.”
And that, those simple words, make something release in your chest.
The weight of your confession doesn’t feel as heavy as you’d expected. In fact, it feels like something has lifted in the air between the three of you. Like even the kid understands. 
Well.
This is new. 
-
As the third morning in the cave rolls around, you wake up feeling much better. 
Once you’ve relieved your always-full bladder, you tell Mando as much, staggering back into the cave and to your bed. “You can stop over-watering me now,” you tease as he lets you back against the wall, gentle. Your hands are on the backs of his arms, and slide all the way down them as he moves away. You wish you could linger there, and the way he moves so slowly, his visor gazing down into your sleepy eyes, makes you think that he wishes that, too. 
As your palms brush against his wrists, he seems to catch himself. He pulls away quickly and turns to distract himself with the kid.
“So, you’re ready to travel?” He asks. 
“As I’ll ever be,” you reply, staring at him from behind. He has a nice behind. (And you need to stop. Immediately.)
“You can lean on me. We’ll take it slow, I promise.” 
Kriff, say that again… “I’ll be alright. You’ve got enough to carry.” 
He looks at you again. “I’m leaving the parts here,” he says, like that should be obvious. 
“What?” You frown. “But your ship…” 
“Once we find our way back, and you’re safe, I’ll come back for them.” 
“Mando, I can manage. Seriously, we should take the parts. You’ve been here long enough.” 
The helmet tilts. “You trying to get rid of me?” It would concern you, if the teasing in his tone wasn’t arousingly obvious.
You just about manage to recover from the stirring in your belly, and you laugh, “Totally. Sick of you already.” 
The kid, standing beside him, looks at you and makes a sad noise. His ears turn down towards the ground. 
Kriff. “Hey, I’m just kidding,” you assure him with a smile. As a peace offering, you reach your hands out to him, and he relaxes in an instant, immediately plodding over to you and climbing into your lap. You hold him, give him a quick hug, then just let him sit there. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m actually gonna miss you,” you whisper into his ear. He coos happily, tugging at a loose thread on your coat.
When you look up, Mando is, of course, staring at you. This time, you know for sure that it’s at both you and the kid.
“What?” You ask. 
“Nothing,” he answers after a moment of hesitation. “I’m going to pack up. Then we can move. You okay to sit with the kid?” 
“You know I am,” you smile, and watch as Mando nods and heads outside.
That pang in your chest is back. Well, you’re not sure when it turned from a slow warmth into a pang. 
But it’s there. Too obvious to ignore. 
For a few miles, you manage pretty well. It took some convincing, but you got Mando to agree to taking the parts along with him in the end. You do lean on him, but only when moving over particularly rough terrain, fallen logs, or exposed tree roots. 
“How we doing?” Mando asks at around noon. 
“Fine,” you say, feeling a little breathless. 
“You sure?” 
“I’m sure. We can stop soon for a break.” 
Another hour passes, your ankle is starting to throb, and you’re really fucking glad that you saved that ice pack for this exact moment. 
Mando sits you down on a fallen log, keeping his arm around you until you’re properly seated, lingering just a little too long for you to tame the way it makes your heart beat wildly. To feel the heat of him through his flight suit, your hands and arms pressed to parts of him not covered by armour, just the soft parts; it’s a lot. When you first saw him, this wall of metal, you never thought you’d see any further than that. Kriff, you never even thought he’d get closer to your hut than he was when you had your blaster pointed at him. 
Maybe that would have been best. Because if he’d just left, if there was another way for him to get the help he needed, you wouldn’t be thinking about him the way you are right now. 
The softness of the crook of his elbow, the curve of his waist and hip. The warmth of his skin that you have yet to see an inch of. All of the weapons strapped to him, so close to you, close enough that if it were anyone else, you’d be scared. 
But it’s Mando. 
This might be the least scared you’ve been in a lifetime. 
He cracks the ice pack to activate it, then kneels down in front of you. Reaching out to grab a smaller log, he places it under your ankle, elevates your leg slightly. Then his gloved fingers tug at the hem of your trousers. “Can I?” He asks. 
Kriff. You nod, unable to form words. 
The rough-yet-smoothness of the gloves is all you feel at first, brushing delicately against your skin as he lifts your trousers, then unlaces your boots, gently pulling them off, followed by your socks. Your ankle is more swollen than it had been this morning, but you’d expected that. 
And, besides, that is not what you’re thinking about right now. 
Instead your mind can only focus on the softness of his hold under your foot, the gentle way he places the ice pack on top of it. The heat of his hand starts to come through. You wish it was his bare skin. Wish you knew what his skin is like. Is it calloused, or soft from always protecting them? Does he have scars? Is the hair on his arms dark, light, a thin covering or thicker, perfect to run your fingers through—
His hands are gone before you realise it. It takes your glitching mind a second to catch up.
You chase him with your eyes, silently wishing for him to come back. 
But then. 
Then. 
As he turns away, he reaches for the flask in his satchel. You watch his hands lift to his helmet, take a gentle hold of the base of it. At first you panic, thinking he’s about to remove his helmet, no you don’t have to do that it’s okay—
But he just lifts it the tiniest bit, such a small movement that you only know it has been lifted because he puts the rim of his flask to his lips and takes a sip. 
You can’t see his skin, not a hint of it. But you can hear him drinking, hear the water against his lips, the gentle gulps as he swallows. 
And the way it entrances you, takes you away from the forest and the pain of your ankle and the fact that this is so not appropriate for you to be thinking—yeah, it’s probably for the best that he can’t ever show his face to you.
You look away before he even lowers the helmet again. 
-
Maybe the worst part about all this is that you’re starting to dread Mando and the kid leaving. 
That’s not how this was supposed to go, not how any of this was supposed to play out. You helped him because it was the right thing to do, because it’s exactly what They would tell you not to do, because your life has been the same every single fucking day since you got here. 
But that’s been fine. It’s been safe. 
“Pass me that wrench?” Mando asks, breaking you out of your thoughts. 
You pass him it, noting the tilt of his helmet in a wordless ‘thanks’ before he turns back to his job. He’s up on a ladder, leaning against the ship’s exterior wall with one of the panels fully off, fixing something to do with the foundation for the body. 
His ship is bigger than you’d expected. He tells you that it’s bigger than his old ship, the Razor Crest, but only by a little. “It’s a similar shape,” he’d said, “but it has two bunks and more space. For the kid.” He has a star fighter too, apparently, docked at some other base off-world with a friend of his. It’s funny to imagine him with friends, though you’re not sure why. Especially because, since getting to know him the last few days, you know how generous he is. How kind, helpful. Gentle, despite everything. 
Why wouldn’t he have friends?
Beneath him, you sit on a crate and lean against the ship, waiting for him to give you more instructions. The engine has been mostly fixed now, as much as it’s ever going to be out here in the middle of nowhere using scrounged-up parts. He’s just getting the last of the body work done, enough to make sure it’s aerodynamically sound. 
It’s interesting, watching him work. You ask a lot of questions, and every time you do, you expect a frustrated sigh or an exasperated response. But he answers every question thoroughly, and it doesn’t even distract him from his work. 
The sun is warm against your face. The afternoon of Mando’s fifth day on this planet is drawing to a close, fading into the evening. As the sky turns to duller shades of blue, tinted with oranges and pinks, you can’t help but admire the way he looks beneath the light. His armour is always the same, always so distinctive, yet it reflects different lights in different ways. Sometimes it makes the beskar appear darker, like a gun metal grey. Other times it’s a bright silver. Then there are times like this, when it goes with the colour of the sky, reflects the beauty of everything surrounding him. 
You think back to the light in the cave, how that looked different still. The urge to see the Galaxy comes over you again, though this time it’s not staring at his ship and dreaming about taking off in it that does it; this time, it’s wondering what he looks like in even more places, more environments. Does the metal get hot in the sunshine? Or is it always as cool as it’s been when you’ve had the chance to feel it before? 
The kid is sitting on the ground in front of you. There’s a beetle scuttling around in the mud, and Grogu is toying with it, blocking it off when it runs one way, then doing the same when it runs the other. You wonder if he’s going to eat it, or if he’s just having fun by being cruel to the little six-legged creature. 
“Don’t play with your food,” Mando says to him, answering your silent question. 
Grogu looks up at him. His ears turn downwards, sulking. Mando ignores his obvious pleas to change his mind, turning back to his work. When Grogu looks back at the beetle, he only just catches it before it runs off, and instead of toying with it anymore, he just shoves it in his mouth with a loud crunch. 
You find yourself smiling at him. He smiles back, ears lifting again. 
“Alright,” Mando starts to step down from the ladder. You reach out and hold one of the ladder’s legs, knowing he probably doesn’t need you to, but still not wanting to risk it. Ladders make you nervous. “Think that’s the best we’re going to get.” 
You look up to the ship. He’s fixed the panel back on again. Now all that remains is the burnt metal from his “interesting landing”, with some bends in it, exposing little sections of the framework beneath. It’s definitely a patchwork job. But it looks better than it did when you got here this morning. So.
“How’s your leg?” He asks as he folds up the ladder. 
“Good,” you answer. It’s stretched out in front of you, propped on another crate. “Ship looks good.” 
With a resigned sigh, he puts his hand on his hips, and tilts his helmet to look up at his handiwork. “No, she doesn’t. But she’ll do.” Then he looks back to you, “I couldn’t have fixed it without your help. Thank you.” 
You shift under his gaze, unable to help it. Every time he looks at you it feels like his eyes can see right through you, and the part that makes you uncomfortable is that it doesn’t make you uncomfortable. Self-conscious and disgustingly aware of your own inappropriate, lustful thoughts? Yes. Uncomfortable? No. You don’t think it ever could. 
“Of course,” you say eventually. “And, hey, I’ve got a scar to remember our little adventure by, huh?” 
He laughs softly. You see the shake of his chest as the chuckle comes through his modulator. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.” 
“Hm, no. But there’s no gift shop around here. So.” 
He shakes his head, and you imagine, hope, that he’s smiling under all that beskar. He certainly looks casual, a hand on one hip, one leg relaxed while his weight rests on the other. 
“Do you always stare so much?” You find yourself asking with a teasing, daring quirk of your brow. 
“Yes.”
“At everyone, or just me?”
He pauses. Your heart rate spikes briefly as you wait for his response to your terrible excuse for flirting. “At everyone,” he answers eventually, and disappointment starts to set in before he says, “But it’s harder to look away from you.” 
Oh. 
The disappointment quickly shifts to nervousness, heart beating fast again as you clench your hands in your lap. He just stands there, staring despite the awkward and loaded silence between you, and stares. As if he’s making his point by offering an example. 
You look away. Suddenly, your cheeks are hot. “You hungry?” You find yourself asking. 
He pauses again, then nods. “Yes.” 
“I’ll make us some dinner. You just come back to the hut whenever you’re ready.” It’s only as you stand to hobble back home that you realise he might not want that. You swivel back around to face him, backtrack, “I mean, unless you want to eat out here. Your ship’s fixed now, I guess you can—you can stay in that? You don’t have to come back with me. I’ll be okay.” 
Again, getting more and more infuriating with each silence he lets stretch out, he just stares. Kriffing hells, does he ever stop!? 
“Would you let me cook for you?” He asks, finally.
You weren’t expecting that. 
Shifting weight to your good leg, you raise your eyebrows. “You want to cook me dinner?” 
He nods once. “Yes. To thank you for all your help. And as a farewell.” 
You’ve been trying your hardest not to think about that part. It sits in your stomach, cold and dreadful and confusing, too far down for you to swallow it. “Alright,” you agree with a soft smile. “I can’t promise I’ve got any decent ingredients, though. You might have to perform a miracle.” 
“I’m up to the challenge,” he says, hooking his thumb over the belt around his hips. You’re distracted by it, finding your eyes sliding down to his middle before you catch yourself and look back up. The tilt of his helmet suggests he might have seen your gaze shift. “I’ll walk back with you. Just give me a minute.” 
You can’t find a reason to refuse. 
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♡ updates posted Mondays and Thursdays ♡
notes: thank you for reading! all interactions are appreciated as always, but comments and reblogs especially fuel my need for validation ❤️ as always, the title and lyrics at the start are from taylor swift's "daylight"
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second-axis-point · 2 years ago
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Pairing: Din Djarin x Male!Mando!Reader
Warning: None!
Content: Fluff
This is from Din’s perspective so the reader has a nickname. No use of y/n. Hope you guys enjoy!
Partners
Din had been so used to living alone that when another Mandalorian offered to join him in his travels, it took him a while to come to terms with it. The man was quiet and intelligent. He was a bit taller than him and had a broad frame. Din had watched the other hunter in action and was surprised he had never met him before. His reddish tinted beskar and durasteel armour looked similar to his own, Mandalorian sigil forged proudly on his shoulder.
Once Din had stepped on board, along with his new partner, he was pleasantly greeted by Grogu. He smiles under his helmet and leans down to pick the creature up. He turns to the other man and starts introductions.
“This is Grogu, Grogu this is…”
He pauses, releasing that he never got a name from the other hunter. He looks up from the little beast he held in his arms. A bit of tension left his shoulders when he heard the warrior laugh through his helmet and step a bit closer.
“Jackal. Nice to meet you little guy.”
Din watches as he leans down and reaches a hand to Grogu who giggles happily and grabs one of his gloved fingers. 
“You can get to know him after we get out of here. For now you should get familiar with the controls and layout of the ship.”
Jackal nods and Grogu releases his grip. Din puts him down and makes for the small area where he keeps his weapons. Jackal’s rifle is still clasped to his back and his blaster is still on his hip. He’d have to clear a spot for the other’s weapons. But for now, Din puts his stuff away and leads the man to the very front of the ship. When he hears Jackal’s footsteps become irregular, he looks back to see that Grogu has attached himself to the taller man's calf.
“Y’know it would be easier for both of you if you just picked him up.”
He heard Jackal stifle a laugh as he bent down to pick up the clingy child. Once he had Grogu securely in his arms, he continued on behind Din.
It took a few hours, but the three finally found a safe place to rest for a while. Jackal volunteered to stay up a bit longer due to the lack of space in the ship. Din felt sort of bad but trusted the man to his own devices. He tried to retreat back to his and Grogu’s cramped sleeping quarters but the little one refused to go with him. Grogu climbed up and forced himself into Jackal’s lap. He chuckled and told Din that it was okay and that he would watch over Grogu while he slept.
Din had slept through most of the night, only waking when he heard a quiet knock on the shudder. He opens it to see Jackal standing with a sleeping Grogu in his arms. He silently shuffled out of the sleeping area and offered it to the other. Jackal had a bit tougher time fitting in the makeshift bed but he made it work. Din stretched and prepared himself for the day.
Two years later, the three of you were still together. Din and Jackle had been dancing around their feelings for eachother for over half of it. They shared little moments here and there but never explicitly confronted the other about it. Neither of them wanted to ruin the partnership that they had been building. So feelings continue to go unacknowledged. At least they do until a bounty goes sideways and Jackal almost gets himself killed trying to save Din.
So they both sit in the Razor Crest, panting and bloody. The ship was completely silent besides the ragged breaths coming from the hunters. Grogu was safe and sound with Peli, far away from the shit storm the two created for themselves. Din noticed the stiff and pained posture Jackal had taken. He stood and walked over to the medical area, grabbing a kit, and bringing it back to Jackal.
Din assisted Jackal, laying him down on the floor, and taking his armour off. Albeit not being the cleanest place to tend to an open wound, it was all they had at the moment. With his chest piece off and his weapon put aside, Jackal helped pull the undershirt up enough so that Din could tend to his injury. He had a large vertical gash on his lower left abdomen. Din saw that his midsection was littered with varying healed scars.
He stitches up and bandages the slash before leaning back giving the other some breathing room. Sitting back on his heels, he watched Jackal’s chest rise and fall steadily. Jackal reaches a hand to Din, which he grasps in his own. He helped the man sit up and get up into the co-pilot’s seat in the control room. He grabbed a fresh set of clothes for the injured hunter and gave him some privacy to change. Din stood outside the door, nervously swaying back and forth.
He waited for Jackal to trudge out, hand on his side. Din let out a sigh of relief and offered Jackal his armour back. He didn’t put it back on, instead opting to set it aside and sitting back down in his seat with a groan. Din moved behind him, too restless to sit. He put his hand on the back of Jackal’s chair and spun it around. He wanted to make absolute sure that his partner was going to be okay.
Jackal tilted his head, confused. Din knelt down in front of him with his hands on both sides of the armrests. Jackal said nothing but leaned forward slightly. Din moved his hands down to Jackal’s knees, not pressing any further, just simply setting them there. Din could hear his breath hitch through his helmet. Jackal sat stiff and still until Din started to pull away. Neither man said anything. Jackal grabbed one of Din’s hands and pulled him up to eye level. Slowly leaning forward, Din gently touched his helmet to Jackal’s. He leaned back and sighed.
“What’s wrong?”
Jackal asked, genuinely concerned. Din looked up, and got an idea.
“Do you trust me?”
Din asked the man in front of him.
“With my life.”
The ease with which he said it made Din a bit dizzy.
“Sit tight.”
Din walked to the control panel and Jackal heard him flip a few switches. The lights dimmed and then turned off fully, leaving the men in almost complete darkness. Din carefully moved back in front of Jackal and kneeled in front of him once again. He slowly takes his helmet off and audibly sets it down, hoping Jackal knows what he’s implying. Luckily he does.
He hears Jackal take off his helmet and gently presses it into his hand for him to put down. After placing the helmet down next to his own, Din leaned back up. He stopped about an inch away, he could feel Jackal’s breath on his face.
“Is this okay?”
Din asked in a hushed tone. Instead of responding, Jackal closed the distance between them. The kiss is slow and meaningful. Almost two years of pent up feelings and unresolved tension shone through their intimacy. Jackal moved his hand up and rested it on the back of Din’s neck, the other cupped his jaw. Din tilted his head to deepen the kiss.
Jackal was the first to pull away for air but Din didn’t want the kiss to end. He moved down to pepper Jackal’s neck in love bites and small kisses. Din felt a groan rumble in the back of Jackal’s throat. He finally pulled back and listened to the other man pant in the darkness. Din started to stand up but before he could, Jackal grabbed his hands once again. Only this time he pulled Din towards him.
Din was tugged into Jackal’s lap. Once he was comfortable and not anywhere near Jackal’s injury, Din grabbed both sides of his face and yanked him in again. This time their kiss was more heated. Hands wandered. They both made the most of it since they were probably never going to see each other's faces. Jackal felt the stubble on Din’s face, and ran his fingers through his soft hair.
Although Din couldn’t see, he could imagine what the man in front of him looked like. Flushed cheeks with half-lidded and glossed over eyes. He felt as his cheeks started to burn at the thought. Din was shocked back into reality by a pained groan coming from Jackal. He jumped out of the man’s lap and apologised for losing focus.
“It’s alright Din I’m okay. But maybe we should take a little break for today.”
Jackal chuckled lightly and Din smiled into the darkness. Din fumbled around the ground and grabbed the helmets, putting his on and handing Jackal his. Once both of the Mandalorians were covered, Din slowly turned the lights back on. He saw Jackal, still seated, with his clothes a bit ruffled. He was breathing a bit heavier than normal but other than that he looked okay. He walked back over and offered to lead the fellow hunter back to the makeshift bed with a concealed smile. Jackal accepted his offer gratefully, and the two packed themselves in the small space. They both slept peacefully for the first time in years.
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imabeautifulbutterfly · 1 year ago
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Choice - Chapter 2
Summary: You and Din get ready for a mission, while Din takes a moment to reflect.
A/N: Hello lovelies,
Oh I'm so excited to be posting the second chapter, as you may have noticed, the chapters are significantly smaller to how I would usually write, and this is due to time constraints. I wish I could spend hours in front of my computer typing away, but alas real life always interferes.
Hopefully, you will enjoy the second parter, I know I had fun writing it.
Love oo
Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical violence, disguises, fluff, angst, I think that's it, if I miss any warnings please let me know.
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“Djarin, I don’t know about this?” You held Grogu in your arms as you both went over the plan. Grogu’s big ears blocking your vision every so often, as he tried to look at the plans too, which only made you laugh and love the child more. He’d become more and more ingrained in your heart than you thought possible. If you were being honest, it wasn’t just Grogu that had wormed their way into your heart. 
You’d been working with the man ever since you met him, when you were hired by Boba to help him eradicate the Pikes from Tatooine, and once that crisis was done, he offered you a job, you had to say you respected his kind nature, especially the way he looked after Grogu. 
“What’s wrong with the plan?” Din looked from you to the plan, leaning closer to your side as your shoulders touched each other.
“Well …” you scratched your head as you and Grogu looked at each other, “Okay, first there are these sentries that walk around the compound like clockwork. I mean we’ve been watching them for several days, and they haven’t faltered yet. Which is unusual for out of commission storm troopers. Next, you want me to go dressed like a pregnant woman?”
He couldn’t help but chuckle a little, he loved putting you in these awkward situations, after all you could handle it, but mostly because he loved the expression on your face as you tried to wrap your mind around exactly what was needed. 
“I need a distraction”
You quirked your eyebrow as you glared at him, “Really? And that’s the best you got? Why don’t you dress up as a pregnant Mandalorian?”
“I don’t think it’ll have the same impact” he bumped her shoulder, “Plus, you have to admit, a pregnant woman in the middle of a compound, you wouldn’t think that’s distracting?”
“You’re a strange man, you know that, right?” You looked at Grogu, tickling him slightly, laughing at his tiny giggle, “Don’t you agree, your father is a strange man, little one?” Your voice was higher as you talked to him, something Din pointed out time and time again. 
“Patu” was all the response you got, and it was all you needed. 
“See even Grogu thinks you’re odd.”
He simply nodded, “Well, it’s not like I can go as the pregnant woman?” He motioned to himself as he stood, his hand sort of pointing towards his lower half. You quickly averted your gaze, after staring for a second too long, followed by a muffled chuckle from the annoying shiny helmet. 
You cleared your throat, focusing back on his statement, “Why not? I think you could pull it off, if you swing your hips the right way” you winked, smirking back at him. When he didn’t respond, a nervousness fluttered in your stomach, causing you to chew on your lips, a habit you had developed from long. 
He didn’t say anything, simply watched as you focused back on the plans, there was a nervousness in his stomach, that made his palms feel sweaty, he clenched his hands against the table focusing on the task at hand, doing his best not to be flustered by your teasing. 
Din cleared his throat, you always had a way of throwing him off, it was one of the many things he liked about you. 
When he first saw you at Boba’s palace, he couldn’t take his eyes off you, not necessarily out of attraction, but rather because you puzzled him. You didn’t exactly look like a warrior or a mercenary, you looked … well like you, a normal civilian, who simply had shown up at the wrong place and time. He could still recall, when Boba introduced you as his secret weapon, he actually scoffed to himself, thinking there was no way you could live up to any sort of reputation, but then when he saw how you handled yourself, how you fought with passion and determination, he saw your appeal, and why you were a secret weapon.
You were unassuming, and he like that about you. You were a surprise ever minute of the day. 
When Grogu rejoined him, he was impressed by how you automatically began looking after him during and after the fighting was done. You didn’t even know who Grogu was at the time, or how important he was to Din, but he could see in your eyes, the moment you laid eyes on his foundling it was like an instinct woke up inside of you. He knew at that moment, he didn’t have to worry about his child, you would live and breath for him if necessary, and all he could think was that he wanted to get to know you better. 
Next thing he knew he was offering you work, and now all that time later, having you beside him became as natural and normal as having Grogu in his life. He didn’t know if he could go back to a time when you weren’t there. 
His eyes focused on you once again, he was thankful to his helmet, he could observe you, look at you to his hearts content and you’d be none the wiser. He watched as the way your eyes moved across the plans, taking in every detail. The way your fingers stroked Grogu’s tiny hand, reassuring him, you were there and loved. The way you included Grogu in your thought process, even when you didn’t have to, it was making his heart ache, being this close and still distant from you.
He noticed your free hand was just lying there on the table, and for some reason deep within him, he watched as his own hand moved across the table, shifting closer to yours as subtle as he could wanting to hold your hand, however, before he even got the chance, you moved. 
“Well I guess if this is the plan” you initiated as you stood from your hunched over position, “I better put my game face on. Oops, sorry, I mean my belly on.” You chuckled at your own joke, Din never found your joke’s funny, he’d always just stare at you and tilt his helmet, almost saying ‘really?’ 
“Um … anyway, can you take Grogu?” You lifted Grogu, holding him out to Din. 
He simply smirked as he gave a nod, taking Grogu in his arms, chuckling to himself as he watched you purposefully sway your hips towards the bedroom of the apartment he had ‘rented.’ He focused his attention back on his son once you closed the door, as much as he wanted to keep his eyes focused on you, there was a mission to get ready for, “Alright, ad’ika, let’s get ourselves ready.”
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swan-of-sunrise · 1 year ago
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Taking Care of Business (Chapter Forty-One)
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Summary: The scouting team, made up of Mandalorians from both tribes, lands on Mandalore and begins to explore its surface, but they soon end up encountering an old enemy and uncovering a villainous plot.
Pairing: Din Djarin X Fem!Reader
Word Count: 6.5k
Warnings/Disclaimers: None
A/N: Yeah, the ending on this chapter’s gonna be pretty rough so buckle in! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!
Chapter Forty-One The Trap (Previous Chapter)
All through the morning, (Y/N) kept herself busy by helping the Mandalorian mercenaries tune the engines of their starfighters and load supplies onto the light cruiser, and although they were grueling tasks for a sleep-deprived woman to complete, they worked to distract her from the feeling of foreboding that stubbornly persisted from the night before. The moment that she boarded the Gauntlet alongside Din and Grogu, however, there was nothing to divert her attention away from the inexplicable anxiety weighing on her mind; she didn’t have the N-1 to pilot or even her sewing supplies to keep herself busy, and there were only so many times that she could disassemble and clean her already spotless blaster. You’re just thinking about all the bad experiences we went through the last time we were on Mandalore, she reminded herself as the heel of her boot continued to tap against the floor and her fingers fiddled with a loose thread dangling off the hem of her coat’s sleeve, wishing that she could give in and forget about the ominous sensation filling the pit of her stomach.
“No.”
(Y/N) shook herself out of her reverie and a smile played on her lips when she saw IG-12 standing in front of her seat. “Hey, little guy. Whatcha mean, ‘No?’” Grogu cooed and operated the droid’s hand to take hold of hers and gently guide it away from the loose thread, making (Y/N) chuckle and look back up at the child with pride. “That’s right: pulling the thread will only cause more damage to the garment’s stitching. You’d make quite the seamstress’ apprentice, Grogu.”
He giggled when she tickled the patch of skin beneath his chin and pressed a clawed hand against one of the console’s button. “Yes.”
“We’re coming out of hyperspace,” Din announced, walking up to the pair and tilting his helmeted head to the side as he considered them. “Are you ready, alor’ad?”
(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply, but Grogu and his vocabulators beat her to it. “Yes.”
The Mandalorian heaved a weary sigh and shook his head in exasperation. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”
“It’s beginning to grow on me but I won’t lie, that meiloorun incident wasn’t exactly a glowing endorsement of Greef’s…generous gift.” Standing, (Y/N) rolled her coat’s sleeves up and patted her husband’s beskar-clad chest. “Now, let’s go and reclaim your people’s home.”
Din leaned down to connect their foreheads in a brief but meaningful Keldabe Kiss and while (Y/N) forced herself to pull away from his comforting touch, she could hear Bo-Katan call into the starfighter’s communication radio, “Scouting party descending to surface.” As she piloted the Gauntlet down through the tempestuous upper atmosphere of Mandalore, the Nite Owl spared the trio a brief glance over her shoulder. “We’ll lose comms shortly.”
“I’ll go and check on our drop troops,” Din volunteered and gave (Y/N)’s hand a brief squeeze before turning and disappearing into the starfighter’s bomb bay.
“I wish you could’ve seen Mandalore before the Purge.” (Y/N) tore her eyes away from the bomb bay door to look at Bo-Katan, whose grip was tight on the controls as she piloted the Gauntlet out of the raging storms that encased her homeworld. “The songs that were written could hardly do its beauty justice.” The Nite Owl cleared her throat and gave her head a small shake. “And now, I can hardly recognize my own home.”
(Y/N) hesitated a moment before reaching out and giving the unarmored section of Bo-Katan’s shoulder a comforting pat. “It’ll take time, of course, and nothing can ever live up to your memories of your old home, but under your leadership, Mandalore will become a hospitable planet again. You’re all Mandalorians, Bo, and Mandalorians never give up without a fight.” Her lips curved into a small smile. “This is the Way.”
Bo-Katan’s expression brightened with a smile of her own as she nodded once. “This is the Way.”
The bomb bay door slid open and Din stepped through to stand beside (Y/N). “They’re ready.”
“Secure infil zone.” Bo-Katan flipped a switch and a moment later, the sound of the drop troops launching into their free-fall filled the cockpit. “And now we wait…”
(Y/N) peered down at the planet’s crystalized surface and watched the tiny beskar-clad figures survey their charted landing zone with bated breath, the tension leaving her shoulders when the voice of Axe Woves came through the starfighter’s communication radio. “Gauntlet, landing zone secure.”
The Nite Owl engaged the landing sequence and when the starfighter touched down onto the barren stretch of land, (Y/N) accompanied Din and Grogu as they followed Bo-Katan and the Armorer down the ramp. A series of panicked beeps forced her to glance back and watch R5-D4 roll after them; the astromech droid, despite his less-than-happy memories of Mandalore, was too afraid to stay behind on the Gauntlet and despite Din’s grumbling, she gave him a commlink and told him to contact them the moment he needed any assistance. All of the Mandalorians that made up the scouting party wore their beskar helmets, but the stiffness in their stances and the way they gripped their blasters told (Y/N) that being on their people’s ancestral planet was making them uneasy.
“Somewhere below is where our ancestral capital once stood.” Bo-Katan’s gloved hand held tight to her helmet as she addressed the scouting party. “We’ll survey the surface until we find the Forge and create a safety zone. Only then will we begin to bring down the settlers.” (Y/N) gave Bo-Katan an encouraging nod and the Nite Owl pointed towards the horizon. “We’ll start scouting in that direction.” She strode through their group and slipped on her helmet before calling out, “Form up!”
The Mandalorians followed her command and filed after her, leaving Din and (Y/N) walking at the back alongside Grogu and the Armorer. They hadn’t made it far when a low rumble joined the thundering high above them and the crystalized ground began to shake with deep tremors; (Y/N) hovered her hand over the hilt of her blaster as Din pointed towards the distance. “There, on the horizon.”
A cloud of dust and debris had formed in the distance and was only growing larger as it neared them and when the shape of a massive langskib became visible, (Y/N) and Din drew their blasters while Bo-Katan and the Mandalorian mercenaries lowered their helmet’s rangefinders in synchronization. “Nite Owls.”
“Flanking left,” Axe called, moving into a defensive formation alongside his fellow Mandalorians and crouching behind the rock formations that emerged from the crystalized surface.
Din held a gloved hand out to keep Grogu behind them and (Y/N) spared the concerned child a brief smile. “Everything’s gonna be okay, little guy, don’t worry.” She returned her focus to the langskib and tightened her grip on her blaster as the craft slowed to a stop. “If they’re not friendly, then we’ll handle them.”
The tension-filled silence that filled the clearing was finally broken by a man’s voice emanating from the deck of the langskib. “Do you have food?”
“We do,” Bo-Katan called back, lifting her rangefinder while the rest of the scouting party continued to hold their weapons at the ready.
“You wear the crest of the Nite Owls?”
Bo-Katan seemed taken aback by the man’s pointed question. “I should hope so.”
Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) saw the Armorer take a curious step forward. “They’re Mandalorians.”
(Y/N) exchanged a look of surprise with Din and murmured, “Mandalorians have been living here since the Purge?”
Her husband wordlessly shook his head as another man’s voice called out, “Is that the voice of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze?”
“…It is.”
Immediately, three Mandalorians flew down from the towering langskib and gracefully landed in front of them; the Nite Owl signaled to them to hold their fire, but several members of their scouting party had already lowered their blasters by the time the Mandalorians removed their helmets and bowed their heads in respect. “We knew you would not forsake us, Lady Bo-Katan,” The first Mandalorian humbly spoke. “We have failed you, but our blasters remain in your service.”
The rest of their scouting party slowly relaxed and holstered their weapons as they lowly talked amongst themselves about their new discovery, but (Y/N) carefully watched Bo-Katan and took note of the unusual caginess in her posture; perhaps there’s something that she hasn’t told anyone about the day Mandalore was decimated by the Empire, she thought to herself, a troubled frown forming on her face while she followed Din, Grogu and the rest of the Mandalorians as they trekked to the well-worn langskib in the distance.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“They intercepted any ships they saw leaving…” The former Mandalorian captain explained later that evening, after they’d welcomed their unexpected guests onto their langskib with a meager but much-appreciated meal. (Y/N) was seated between Grogu and Paz Vizsla at the long table extended across the upper deck, tearing strips of salted meat into pieces and handing them one at a time to the child while she listened to the Mandalorian’s story with rapt attention. “They took no prisoners. They bombed every surface twice-over. They punished us as a warning to the whole galaxy, because we refused to surrender.”
“That’s not true.” Everyone seated at the table looked to its head and saw the shadow of guilt that graced Bo-Katan’s features. “I did surrender.” (Y/N)’s heart sank as the Mandalorian survivors began to murmur amongst themselves and when Koska opened her mouth to defend her old friend, Bo-Katan gestured for her to stand down and swallowed thickly before continuing. “After our forces were annihilated in the Night of a Thousand Tears and defeat was imminent, I met with Moff Gideon. The ISB had reached out to me to negotiate a cease-fire; in exchange for submitting to the Empire and disarming, all remaining cities and Mandalorian lives were to be spared.” The Nite Owl looked down at the scuffed surface of the table to avoid the gazes fixed on her. “This is how Moff Gideon came to possess the Darksaber. I didn’t trust him, but it was the only chance I had to save our people.” Grogu let out a sad coo and (Y/N) rested a hand on his small back for comfort. “And then, he betrayed me and we were helpless to resist the Purge of Mandalore.”
The Mandalorian scout took in Bo-Katan’s explanation and looked across the table at Din, Paz and the Armorer. “How did these others survive?”
“We were hidden on the moon of Concordia,” The Armorer explained and Din nodded in confirmation.
The former captain’s brow furrowed in distrust. “Are you Death Watch?”
“Death Watch exists no longer. It shattered into many warring factions.”
Bo-Katan struggled to keep her emotions in check as she addressed the Mandalorians seated around her. “Our people have suffered time and again, from division and squabbling factions. Mandalore has always been too powerful for any enemy to defeat; it is always our own division that destroys us.”
While everyone seated around the table took in her regret-filled words, Bo-Katan quietly stood and crossed the deck to stand at the langskib’s bow, leaving the gathering of Mandalorians to awkwardly converse with one another as they finished up their meal. The mercenaries and the covert members volunteered to help nurse some of the surviving Mandalorians back to health and since she knew that they’d have a long day ahead of them in the morning, (Y/N) coaxed Grogu out of the IG-12 suit and worked on rocking the stubborn child to sleep while Din absentmindedly rubbed his thumb across the back of his wrinkled head.
“Hearing what really happened after the Night of a Thousand Tears…what Bo-Katan was forced to do, only for Moff Gideon to betray her and initiate the Purge…” Din shook his helmeted head and quietly sighed. “I can’t imagine being put in that position and living all those years with the weight of the consequences on my mind.”
(Y/N) waited until Grogu’s eyelids finally stayed closed to look up at her husband and whisper, “Bo’s had a pretty rough start to this scouting expedition; if I was her, I could really do with a few words of understanding right about now.”
She tilted her head towards the bow of the langskib and after a brief moment of hesitation, Din nodded once and slowly approached the morose Nite Owl, pausing only to affectionately bump his forehead against hers; as Din slowly approached Bo-Katan, who was looking out at the desolate wasteland that had once been her home, (Y/N) perched herself on the edge of a nearby cargo box and listened in on the Mandalorian’s modulated statement. “I had no idea. We were taught that everyone but us had forsaken the Way, that you were selfish and uncaring. Now, I understand.”
“You were right.” The Nite Owl’s back was to them both, but (Y/N) didn’t need to see her face to detect the pain that laced her every word. “I was selfish, and this is what it wrought.”
Din glanced over his shoulder and when (Y/N) flashed him a small smile of encouragement, he turned back around and took a step forward. “We’ll rebuild it. Isn’t that our history? For thousands of years, we have been on the verge of extinction and for thousands of years, we have survived.”
Bo-Katan whirled around to face him, her swirling emotions finally getting the better of her. “I don’t know if I can keep everyone together. There’s too much animosity, and this blade-” She reached for the hilt of the Darksaber fastened to her utility belt. “-is all I have to unify our people.”
“I only know of this weapon what you taught me. To be honest, it means nothing to me or my people, nor does station or bloodline; why do you think they’ve so readily accepted my riduur and our foundling into the covert? What matters more to me is honor. And loyalty, and character. These are the reasons I serve you, Lady Kryze.” Bo-Katan looked up at Din, and the cautious hopefulness that glistened in her eyes made (Y/N)’s heart clench in sympathy for all the hardships she’d endured since the Clone Wars. “Your song is not yet written…” The Mandalorian held his clenched fist against his chest as a mark of respect and bowed his helmeted head. “I will serve you until it is.”
(Y/N)’s heart swelled with pride for her husband and as he made his way over to where she sat, she watched Bo-Katan take a steadying breath before crossing the deck to join the other Mandalorians, her confidence returning with every sure-footed step she took. “I know that you never truly had any interest in leading the Mandalorians, sweetheart, but believe me, you would’ve made one hell of a leader.”
Taking a seat on the cargo box beside her, Din took a sleeping Grogu from her and cradled him against his beskar-covered chest with one arm while wrapping the other around her waist. “With you by my side, it would’ve been a slice of uj’alayi; any leader would be lucky to have an advisor and confidant only as half as skilled as you, alor’ad.” Instead of answering, (Y/N) pressed a soft kiss onto the beskar covering her husband’s mouth and leaned against him, the both of them listening in as Bo-Katan’s insecurities gave way to her natural leadership skills.
“We’ll rest tonight and continue at first light.”
“These here are too weak to continue,” The Armorer countered and gestured towards the cots occupied by the injured and sick Mandalorian survivors. “We must return to the Gauntlet, and I will ferry them back to the fleet in the morning.”
Bo-Katan nodded. “Agreed.” She looked over at the former Mandalorian captain, who was preoccupied with treating an unconscious warrior at a nearby cot and only looked away when the Nite Owl addressed him. “Captain? Those of you who are well enough can join us in the search for the Great Forge.”
“We can do better than that.” The ghost of a smile formed on the former captain’s lips. “We can bring you there.”
Although (Y/N) should’ve been thrilled that their scouting expedition was receiving substantial aid from a group of loyal and honorable Mandalorians, the only thing that she could focus on while she and Din drifted off to sleep later that night was the resurgence of the foreboding weight in the pit of her stomach.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The next morning – much like the morning before on Nevarro – was filled with a flurry of activity, with the Armorer piloting the sick and injured Mandalorian survivors up to where their fleet was located in Mandalore’s orbit in the Gauntlet and the langskib making its way across the planet’s crystalized surface towards the Great Forge. Unlike the previous morning, (Y/N) found herself putting her uneasiness aside as she busied herself with repairing tears in the langskib’s sails and braiding new lines of rope. The work was challenging and far from the sort of work that a former seamstress was used to, but (Y/N) was happy to share her knowledge with the Mandalorians and offer them assistance; she was able to dabble in her old trade and as a bonus, she found a task that kept her lingering worry off her mind. Maybe I should consider expanding the services I’ll offer when I open my shop someday, she thought with a tranquil smile and continued to expertly weave the bundles of fibers together with skilled fingers.
The sound of a scuffle breaking out was enough to shatter (Y/N)’s concentration, and she looked up from her complex work to see Paz and Axe engaged in a vicious duel on the lower deck. “Oh, for Maker’s sake…” Setting her half-finished rope down, (Y/N) got up and moved to stand between Din and Bo-Katan at the railing with a weary sigh. “I’d like to say that I’m surprised, but what’s the point in lying?”
Din nodded in agreement and looked over at the Nite Owl. “Should I step in?”
“Neither side can stop it,” Bo-Katan explained, but her brow was furrowed in concern as she watched the Mandalorian men struggle over a vibroblade. “Like the Captain said, it was bound to happen sooner or later.”
(Y/N) pursed her lips as Axe held back Paz’s vibroblade and the larger Mandalorian knocked him onto the ground, and she winced when the mercenary activated his jetpack and used his locked arms to trip Paz, taking advantage of the distraction to scoop up the vibroblade before they both staggered to their feet. The other Mandalorians wore matching looks of exasperation while they watched both men continue their fight but just when (Y/N) was preparing to return to her rope braiding, she spotted Grogu approaching the fighters in his IG-12 suit and her heart nearly stopped at the sight. Before either she or Din could say or do anything, the child stepped directly between the charging Mandalorians and held them both apart with the droid’s strong arms.
“No. No. No. No. No. No. No.” Grogu pressed the vocabulator’s button over and over, only stopping when Paz and Axe stood down and walked away from one another.
“You taught your apprentice well,” Bo-Katan remarked with the barest hint of a smile.
Din merely shrugged his armored shoulders. “He didn’t learn that from me.” (Y/N)’s face warmed at her husband’s sweet reply and after giving his pauldron a brief kiss, she shot Grogu a proud wink and stifled a giggle when he promptly nodded back.
A sharp whistle was quickly followed up with a shout from the langskib’s crow’s nest. “There, on the starboard bow!”
On the lower deck, Mandalorians gathered their weapons and helmets on their way to the bow of the ship and as (Y/N) looked towards the right of the langskib, the sight of a crumbling mountain of crystalized earth made her wet her dry lips and hesitantly remark, “I don’t think that’s the Great Forge…”
Her suspicions were confirmed when she noticed the Mandalorian survivors slip their helmets on and sprint to their battle stations, and she was quick to follow Din down the steps to get a closer look at the creature breaking through the mountain; it was a trinitaur, a reptilian beast with a pointed outer shell and a club-shaped tail, and they all paused in horror as it opened its jagged beak and released an ear-splitting shriek. The langskib attempted to swerve out of the creature’s way but its hull snagged on the broken shards of earth and pitched to the side, sending warriors stumbling into one another and dragging them closer to the flailing beast.
The shadow of the trinitaur’s tail blocked out the dim afternoon light as one of the Mandalorian survivors cried out over the din, “Abandon ship!”
Mandalorians activated their jetpacks and took to the skies, and (Y/N) was swept into Din’s arms with only a second to brace herself before they flew away from the doomed langskib; her panicked eyes spotted Grogu being carried off by Axe and Paz, but the explosive impact of the trinitaur’s tail smashing the langskib to pieces forced her to bury her face in Din’s singed cowl and tighten her grip on his shoulders. When their boots made contact with the ground, they began sprinting alongside the rest of the Mandalorians towards a small opening half-hidden amongst an outcropping of rock.
“This way! This way!” They came upon the sunken entrance of a cave and after Din jumped down, he helped (Y/N) down and tightly gripped her hand so that they wouldn’t become separated. “Hurry up! Faster!”
The last of the Mandalorians made it into the hidden cave and when they spotted Grogu’s IG-12 suit, (Y/N) breathed a deep sigh of relief as Din pulled her over to where he stood. “You good?” Grogu cooed in fear but when (Y/N) kissed the top of his head in comfort, the cave shook and showered them in rocks and debris. “We can’t stay here with that creature right outside.”
“What about the Great Forge?” (Y/N) asked as she brushed errant strands of hair out of her eyes and frantically looked around the cave for an exit.
“We’re not far, we need to go further down!” The former Mandalorian captain shouted and while the cave continued to shudder around them, they followed one another through the narrow tunnel that the Mandalorian survivor directed him towards. “Go, go go! Go!”
The flashlights affixed to several Mandalorians’ helmets illuminated their path through the winding tunnel, and they only slowed their pace when the tunnel opened out onto a cliff overlooking a cavernous chamber filled with metallic machinery. Several of the Mandalorian mercenaries removed their helmets and after catching sight of the reverent looks that crossed their uncovered faces, (Y/N) knew that they were standing in the middle of someplace deeply sacred to them.
Din fell into step beside her and quietly asked, “Where are we?”
“This is what’s left of the Great Forge.” Axe stopped walking and swallowed thickly. “This was once the heart of our civilization, but the fires have been extinguished since the bombings.”
Paz’s helmeted head tilted in curiosity. “You lived here?”
“We all did,” Koska replied, a glint of sadness filling her dark brown eyes.
The former Mandalorian captain wearily sighed. “We never left. Survived by migrating along the surface until the war ended. Some tried to explore below, but none survived.”
(Y/N) rubbed the spot on her neck where the cyborg injected her with sedatives, but the distant sound of approaching fuel-powered machinery gave her pause and caused her to glance over at her husband in confusion. “Jetpacks?”
Axe arched a skeptical brow. “More survivors?”
A dark look crossed Bo-Katan’s face as she slipped her helmet on and drew her blasters. “Those aren’t Mandalorians.”
It didn’t take them long to catch sight of the two dozen figures flying towards them, and the atmosphere quickly shifted when they realized that they were all encased in the recognizable white armor of Stormtroopers. “They’re Imperials!”
“Take cover!”
Din managed to tackle (Y/N) and Grogu behind a pile of rocks just before blaster bolts flew through the air and after checking that the child was unharmed, (Y/N) drew her blaster and joined the Mandalorians in returning blaster fire. Carefully taking aim, (Y/N) fired and watched in disbelief as the red blaster bolt bounced off the chest of the Stormtrooper; she’d shot countless Stormtroopers before, during and after the Rebellion, and never once had she encountered one who wore armor strong enough to successfully deflect blaster fire. Unless…
“They’re wearing beskar armor!” Axe shouted over the chaotic sounds of the gunfight.
The Stormtroopers took up positions along the cavern’s walls and on the abandoned machinery that had once been the Great Forge of Mandalore, taking advantage of the high ground and sniping the defenseless Mandalorians whenever they took aim at the chinks in their armor. “We’re pinned down!” Din called out to the others while he continued returning blaster fire. “We need back-up!”
“I can make a run for the fleet and get us reinforcements!”
Bo-Katan whirled around to face Axe and shook her helmeted head. “No, it’s too far!”
“I can make it, it’s our only shot at taking the planet back!” The Mandalorian mercenary insisted.
“There’s a split in the ceiling there!” They looked up to where Paz pointed and saw the narrow opening in the ceiling, just large enough for a single flyer to pass through and make their way to the planet’s crystalized surface. “I’ll lay down cover!”
Paz aimed his blaster cannon at the remnants of the Great Forge across from them and fired, the power of the massive weapon succeeding in downing several Stormtroopers and forcing the rest to scramble for cover; the brief moment of distraction allowed Axe to activate his jetpack and speed through the split in the cavern’s ceiling without their enemy realizing. They were quick to recover from Paz’s attack and a dozen of them flew down to attack their right flank, forcing Paz and several other Mandalorians to return blaster fire. (Y/N), realizing that Stormtroopers were descending on their left flank, shook Din’s shoulder and gestured to the breach in their defenses with her blaster. “C’mon, let’s go!”
Using his beskar-covered body as a makeshift shield, Din led (Y/N) into the fray and defended her as she took advantage of their closer proximity to aim her blaster at the crevices in their armor, slamming his fist into a hovering Stormtrooper and shooting the downed Imp until they stopped moving. All around them, the Mandalorians were beginning to seize the upper hand; they used their whipcords to yank Stormtroopers out of the sky, slashed at the exposed sections of their bodies with vibroblades, detonated hand-held charges slapped onto their jetpacks to disable their flight capabilities and kicked the screaming Stormtroopers off the cliff. The onslaught of well-trained warriors proved to be too much for the remaining Stormtroopers to handle, and they quickly retreated on foot through a tunnel leading away from the Great Forge.
“They’re retreating!”
Bo-Katan finished off her opponent with a blaster bolt to the neck and gestured to her fellow Mandalorians. “Advance!”
A battle cry rang out through the cavernous chamber as the Mandalorians thundered after the charging Nite Owl. After checking that (Y/N) was uninjured, Din led her over to where Grogu was pressed against the jagged rock wall and placed a gloved hand on IG-12’s metal shoulder. “Okay, kid. You’ve gotta keep up.”
“Stay close to us, all right, little guy? Everything’s gonna be okay.” When Grogu gave them both a firm nod, she turned to the Mandalorian standing beside her and flashed him a determined smile. “For Mandalore.”
Din tightened his grip on his blaster and mirrored Grogu’s confident nod. “For Mandalore.”
Together, the three of them ran alongside the charging Mandalorians and followed them into the tunnel. While (Y/N) stayed by Grogu’s side and helped his IG-12 suit navigate the suddenly flat tunnel floor, Din ran ahead and helped Paz and Bo-Katan battle the Stormtroopers unsuccessfully attempting to rally themselves against their pursuit; the blaster bolts whizzing past their heads coupled with the frantic shouts of fleeing Stormtroopers meant that it took (Y/N) longer than usual to realize that they were all sprinting down a hallway, and her footsteps began to falter as she struggled to think of why the gun-metal grey walls and polished floor looked so familiar to her.
The Mandalorians charged around the next corner in time to see the remaining Stormtroopers take flight and speed upwards through what appeared to be a hangar; they fired their blasters at the fleeing Imps until they disappeared through the jagged crevice high above but when the shooting ceased, an uneasy feeling settled over the scouting party as they took in their surroundings. The hangar looked far too sterile and technologically-advanced to be a remnant of Mandalore’s great army, but it wasn’t until (Y/N) looked up and saw the dozen TIE Fighters suspended high above them that she realized where they were standing. “Oh, no…”
Bo-Katan refused to lower her blasters as she agitatedly looked around the Imperial hangar. “What is this place?”
Suddenly, the doors behind their group slid shut while a blast door lowered from above, separating several Mandalorians and – to (Y/N)’s utter horror – Din from the rest of the scouting party. “Din!” She pounded her fist against the blast door’s window and a terrified gasp tore itself from her throat when she saw the remaining dozen Stormtroopers descend onto the platform. “Din, behind you!”
“It’s an ambush!” He yelled over the sound of blaster fire coming from both sides of the thick door; the Stormtroopers were firing upon the small group of Mandalorians without prejudice while Bo-Katan and Paz fired their blasters in a desperate attempt to break down the door. The four Mandalorians trapped alongside Din were shot down one by one while he unsuccessfully attempted to hold the beskar-clad Stormtroopers back by firing his vambrace’s flamethrower at them.
The Stormtroopers landed on the platform and despite the concentrated stream of fire aimed their way, they advanced on Din without a moment of hesitancy in their actions. A whipcord wrapped itself around the wrist controlling the flamethrower but when he simply burned through it, another Imp fired a whipcord that tightly seized him around the neck. “No!” (Y/N) cried as she pounded on the window and helplessly watched her husband being roughly detained with more whipcords and forced onto his knees through tear-filled eyes; Grogu was wailing somewhere behind her, but all she could focus on was the heart-stopping sight of her brave Mandalorian at the mercy of a dozen heavily-armored enemies and the fact that she was powerless to help him. “Din! Din!”
While several Stormtroopers fought to hold a struggling Din steady and the others aimed their blaster rifles at him, a trooper dressed in pitch-black beskar armor akin to what the Mandalorians wore and a crimson cloak descended onto the platform, clenching their gloved fists tight at their sides; (Y/N), realizing that the trooper’s visor was fixed onto her husband’s thrashing form, doubled her efforts to try and break through the door but was stopped by Bo-Katan when she attempted to shoot out the glass with her blaster. “There’s no use! The metal and glass are too thick!”
“I can’t just stand here and watch them kill him!” (Y/N) shouted, trying and failing to wrench her arm out of the Nite Owl’s grasp. “Din!”
“Disarm him,” The Dark Trooper ordered and with tears streaming down her face, (Y/N) watched a duo of Stormtroopers remove every single weapon hidden among Din’s Mandalorian armor, leaving him defenseless at the feet of the mysterious Dark Trooper. When they were satisfied that he was unarmed, they strode forward and removed their horned helmet in one swift motion, revealing the smirking face of Moff Gideon; he never made it to the New Republic War Tribunal, (Y/N) silently lamented, thinking back on the moment Din had had the Imperial commander at his mercy and regretting that he hadn’t killed him when he had the opportunity. “Thank you for gathering the Mandalorians into one place.” Moff Gideon mockingly bowed his head in Din’s direction before looking up at the Mandalorians trapped behind the blast door. “You were a talented people, but your time has passed. However, as you can see, Mandalore will live on in me; thanks to your planet’s rich resources, I have created the next generation Dark Trooper suit, forged from beskar alloy. And the most impressive improvement is that it has me in it.” He held his arms out and gestured to his armor with a dark grin. “As the daughter of a talented seamstress, I’m sure that you can appreciate the thought behind my new armor’s design, Captain (Y/L/N). Oh, and congratulations on the wedding; I hear that the Lake Country of Naboo is a beautiful venue for wedding ceremonies.”
(Y/N)’s blood boiled in rage but Paz’s large hand on her shoulder stopped her from surging forward, and his modulated voice lowly warned, “Hold fast, Captain.”
“You see, every society has something to offer: the cloners, the Jedi, the Naboo, and even the Mandalorians. By aggregating the best of each, I will create an army that will bring order to the galaxy.” The corners of Moff Gideon’s lips curved into a twisted smile as he continued. “Why don’t we take your fleet off the board while we still have the element of surprise? Activate the interceptors and bombers!”
“No!” Bo-Katan cried and the Mandalorians frantically searched for a way out but throughout the hangar, alarms blared and Stormtroopers boarded their ships to carry out the Imperial commander’s orders.
Their panic only seemed to encourage Moff Gideon, who chuckled and shrugged his armored shoulders. “In but a few moments, the Purge of Mandalore will be complete.” He looked over at the two Stormtroopers detaining Din. “Take him to the debriefing room.”
“No, no!” (Y/N) screamed, desperately pounding her fist against the glass as the two Stormtroopers hauled Din to his feet and began dragging him away. “Din!” Her husband struggled against his captors’ tight grips, but he managed to throw her one final look before they wrenched him out of sight.
Bo-Katan’s modulated voice was laced with venom as she addressed her old enemy. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”
Turning around to face her, Moff Gideon’s villainous smile only widened at her threat. “Bo-Katan. We have to stop meeting like this!”
“I’ll make sure of it.”
“Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we? I believe this is the part where you return the Darksaber to its rightful owner.” Slowly, Bo-Katan unclipped the weapon from her utility belt and held it up for the Imperial commander to see. “Now, surrender the Darksaber, and tell these people that this planet is mine.”
Bo-Katan glanced over at (Y/N), who clenched her jaw tight and gave her a near-imperceptible head-shake, and then at Paz, who swung his blaster cannon around and aimed at the blast doors before them. “This is the Way.”
Chaos erupted as the Mandalorians opened fire on the door and together, (Y/N) and Bo-Katan skidded across the room to the sealed doors at the opposite end; the Nite Owl activated the Darksaber and thrust the illuminated blade into the center of the doors, and (Y/N) clamped her hands around hers to help her cut a circular shape into the thick metal. Behind them, the blast door finally slid open and red blaster bolts whizzed through the air, nearly hitting both women as they worked together to carve out an escape route. Bo-Katan pulled the glowing Darksaber out of the doors and (Y/N) kicked the circle of cut metal out to reveal a human-sized hole. “Move out!” Heeding their leader’s order, the Mandalorians started their retreat through the still-sizzling hole in the doors while the warriors closest to the Stormtroopers covered their brethren by laying down heavy blaster fire. “Move out!”
“Fall back! I’ll cover the rear!” Paz called out over the deafening noise of his blaster cannon.
“Go, go, go!” (Y/N) helped Mandalorian after Mandalorian step through the escape route they’d created and after helping Koska, she all but shoved Grogu’s IG-12 suit through next. “Go, I’ll be there in a sec!” She looked up at Bo-Katan standing across from her, realizing that there were only three of them left. “That’s everyone, Bo, let’s go!”
Bo-Katan turned to where Paz had stationed himself to defend them and called out, “We’re clear, fall back!”
(Y/N)’s brow furrowed when the larger Mandalorian made no move to follow them and continued to fire his blaster cannon at the nearly-invincible Stormtroopers. “Come on, Paz, we’re not leaving you behind!”
Instead of answering, Paz slammed his hand against the nearest control panel and sealed the blast door, leaving him alone to battle a countless number of Stormtroopers on the hangar platform. “Go! There are too many!”
“No!”
Paz glanced over his shoulder at them through the glass of the blast door, and (Y/N) sensed the respect in his pointed gaze as he gave them a firm nod. “This is the Way.”
They watched in stunned disbelief as the Mandalorian fearlessly laid down blaster fire against an enemy that easily outnumbered and outgunned him, all so that his brothers and sisters-in-arms could escape and save their fleet from Moff Gideon and his ruthless Imperial forces. A moment later, Bo-Katan’s visor turned to her and when she nodded her helmeted head, (Y/N) climbed through the hole in the doors and waited for Bo-Katan before running alongside her down the hallway to where the smooth floor transitioned to the uneven dirt of the tunnels.
“Grogu!” (Y/N) quickened her pace when she saw the child’s IG-12 suit positioned by the mouth of the tunnel and skidded to a stop before him. “Are you all right, little guy?” She scanned his tiny body for any injuries and breathed a shaky sigh of relief when she found none; his large eyes shone with unshed tears and the grief written across his wrinkled features broke her heart. “I know, Grogu, but your dad’s gonna be okay. You wanna know how I know that?” He let out a cautious coo and (Y/N) mustered up a small smile for his benefit. “Because we’re gonna rescue him. Together.” She spared Bo-Katan a brief look and nodded towards the tunnel. “The Mandalorians need you, Bo, and Din needs us. We’ll see you on the other side of this mess.”
Rather than arguing or trying to reason with her as she’d done with Paz, Bo-Katan bowed her head in respect. “This is the Way.”
The Nite Owl turned and sprinted down the tunnels after the retreating Mandalorians and (Y/N) tightened her grip on her blaster’s hilt as she met Grogu’s determined eyes. “Are you ready for this?”
“Yes.”
While the horrific memory of Din being overpowered and dragged away from them played on a loop in her mind, a vengeful feeling took hold inside (Y/N) and only burned brighter when she squared her shoulders in preparation for the brutal fight ahead and stared down the Imperial hallway before them. “You’re right, little guy: This is the Way.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 
Mando’a Translations:
Alor’ad-Captain Riduur-Spouse Uj’alayi-dense, very sweet flat cake made of ground nuts, syrup, pureed dried fruit and spice
A/N: A pissed-off Alor’ad is a scary Alor’ad lol thank you all so much for reading and commenting! Oh, and I’ve created a Spotify playlist of all my favorite music from the world of Star Wars, so if you’re interested in checking it out the link is down below!
Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KuSKJhVOPPvxdJ9YHeo4M?si=2977ff31bf0c4bdd
Chapter Forty-Two
Taking Care of Business Masterlist
Tagging: @remmysbounty​ @sinon36​ @seninjakitey​ @thatonedindjarinfan​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @mostclevermiss​ @momc95​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @elinedjarin​ @ccomandercody​ @crowleysqueenofhell​  @goldielocks2004 @wondergal2001​ @groovyqueer​​ @impala1967666​​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​​ @icee228​​ @siimiasoi​​
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burnwater13 · 7 months ago
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Dokk Strassi standing in Boba's throne room. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 4, The Gathering Storm. Calendar from DataWorks.
‘This is a vid of Dokk Strassi. He lied to Fennec Shand and Daimyo Fett. Once he worked for Jabba the Hutt. Then for Bib Fortuna. He could have just agreed to work for Daimyo Fett. But no. He didn’t. He told the Daimyo and Fennec one thing and then did another. Administrator Shand sorted him out. Don’t be like Dokk Strassi.”
Grogu watched the short vid and sighed. He appreciated that the Mods were new to developing public service announcements and other civic minded communications. They were trying to rally the people of Mos Espa and the rest of Tatooine to assist with the rebuilding of both the structural elements of the city and the planetary values they would all live under. 
Grogu had giggled at the first PSA they showed him. It was a vid of Mos Espa with the Ranky crashing through a courtyard structure while throwing a land speeder across the city. They had captioned it “Making way for a better Mos Espa”. Grogu thought that they should have called it “Rancor Demolition and Improvements. Nothing gets in our way.” It was both accurate and funny. 
He mentioned the PSAs to Peli the next time he saw her and she laughed and said they should have said, ‘Mos Espa, at least it’s not a hive of scum and villainy like Mos Eisley’. While Grogu appreciated the sentiment, since he’d met many villains in Mos Eisley, he didn’t think it set the right tone. 
The point was not to say that Mos Espa was better than Mos Eisley or Freetown or Anchorhead or Mos Kadhus, or anywhere else on Tatooine, but that the Daimyo and Fennec were making a large number of improvements across the planet and everyone benefited from them. 
“Listen kid, you’re cute and have a wonderful smile, but if all these improvements go through we’ll end up with a different class of visitor to Mos Eisley. You know, smarter ones and then where will I be?” Peli had complained at him. “You gotta be careful in what you ask for. We get too nice and all those ‘friendly’ games of Sabacc that I clean up on will end. You don’t want that, do ya?”
Grogu shook his head. Of course he didn’t want to hurt Peli in any way. He did think that she could maybe change just a little and maybe run one or two fewer scams on people. You know, just for a change of pace. 
“Kid, that would be changing the culture of Tatooine and do we really want that? I don’t think so. Where would my marks, uh, er, customers go if they thought this planet was suddenly all on the up and up? Trask? Uff. We don’t want those guys to get our business! Criminny! I’d be out of a job and out of a garage and who would feed my poor little ones? Pit droids don’t just feed themselves.”
At that moment the three pit droids were refilling their own lubricant levels and chatted back to her that they did that every day.
“Oh! Don’t confuse me with the facts. Change is hard. Can’t change too quickly. Makes people afraid. Change too slow and other things happen that mess it up. Don’t change at all and you’re just fine. Listen to me, I know a thing or two.”
Well, Peli wasn’t wrong about that. At least about the change part. Change was hard. You had to learn new things and then teach the next group the new things and then change the system so the new thing was the thing and by the time you did all that (including documentation - blech), you had to change everything again. It was an endless cycle. 
Grogu had to sit down. Just the thought of that was making him dizzy. 
“Buddy, don’t worry about Peli so much. She’s smart enough to learn how to take advantage of any rules anyone comes up with. She had to be to survive here. And look at the Mandalorians… they had to accept change and they’re doing pretty well. Axe Woves just sent me a transmission and they’re about to reopen the old Smash Ball arena. That’s some positive change. It just takes time and people need to want the change. That makes it easier. Right now, Mandalorians want anything that can make Mandalore seem like home again.”
His dad, the Mandalorian, was right. Home and hearth were really good selling points for change. The next time he saw the Mods he was going to share a vid with them and caption it ‘Mos Espa, the place your heart calls home’ and see if that helped. It couldn’t be worse than the vid of Ranky tearing things apart… as long as he selected a good vid. Something nice. Something homey. Something that totally didn’t show a rancor ripping the place apart. That should be easy. Right? 
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Concept art by Anton Grandert from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 7, In the Name of Honor.
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vanishedangels · 2 years ago
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As the stars are shining
Summary: Jedi Luke Skywalker's world turns upside down when he comes to the aid of a force-sensitive child only to find that Din Djarin, the only man he has ever loved and pushed out of his life six years earlier on Dagobah, is the kid's guardian.
Blame it on the storm & Castles on the sand sequel
Pairing: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Characters: Din Djarin, Luke Skywalker, Grogu, Paz Vizsla, Ahsoka Tano, Greef Karga, R2-D2.
Rating: Mature
Tags: AU, Canon Divergence, Post The Mandalorian Season 2, Getting Back Together, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Mutual Pining, Tumblr Prompts, POV Alternating, Mostly Luke's POV.
Chapters: 1/3
Navigation: <- Previous Part • Next Chapter ->
Part 3 of Wonderwall series
Excerpt:
The blonde turned around and walked towards his own room fighting against the urge to glance at Din over his shoulder, still he didn't need to look at him to know that the man was still standing in the same spot, and, presumably, staring at him. When he closed the door behind him he rubbed his face hard with his hands, Din was a door away from him and flashes of their nights together started invading his mind. It was torture.
"You're not a kid anymore, come on, Luke." He said staring at himself in the mirror, he huffed "You're a Jedi, get your shit together, man."
Chapter 1: You'll never change what's been and gone
Nevarro's sewers welcomed him like a hundred times before, except this time the air was thinner and everything around him looked darker.
A couple of foundlings passed by his side, springing and giggling inside their mandalorian's helmets, that sight soothed him, making him understand that he made the right decision by staying true to himself, although he couldn't stop thinking that he put the covert before his relationship with Luke since day one and, somehow, he knew that this was coming.
This.
Luke, leaving him. Luke, making the decision for both of them. Luke, breaking his heart.
This.
A new, foreign and unbearable emptiness settled in his chest, threatening to destroy him for good. He frowned behind the helmet walking down a duct, trying to convince himself that at least he knew how love feels, even with the tragic component. Yes, he knew that part as well now.
A year had passed since Luke Skywalker stood still while he was walking away from him, life became colourless since that day, monotonous and even mechanical, he accepted a job, returned to the covert with his pockets full of credits and then he would leave to accept another job as the cycle repeated itself until everything stayed the same and the memory of Luke's eyes started to fade away. Yes, everything became repetitive until something unexpected happened. He overheard a conversation between a bounty hunter and the agent of the Guild, Greef Karga, the two humans were exchanging information, there was no chain code involved and that caught Din's attention. When Karga activated the puck, Din froze, suddenly the memory of those expressive eyes he missed so much regained all its force, the holo image of Luke Skywalker was being projected between the two men seated in front of each other. Din frowned behind his helmet and waited till the man left the cantina, he followed him stealthily, but there was no way to fool a bounty hunter, Din knew it very well, they ended up wrestling in the loneliness of an alley and Din was the one that walked in one piece out of it, he staggered a little, leaning his hand on a wall, dropping the puck to the floor and crushing it against the dusty street with the heel of his boot. He felt relieved, although something started that day, something that made him a prisoner from that moment on. He managed to track and kill five bounty hunters that had the audacity to accept the task of hunting down the man he once held between his arms, even when it meant traveling to distant planets putting his own contracts on hold, and having their blood on his hands.
Paz Vizsla followed him to a common room, Din didn't stop walking ignoring him completely making the other mandalorian feel frustrated, all of a sudden his comrade jostled him and Din's step faltered.
"You're late. Again." Vizsla said through gritted teeth, fixing his visor on Din's.
Din was craning his neck holding his gaze not saying a word.
"What is going on, Djarin? I know pretty boy ditched you. It's obvious. You look miserable." He added still towering over him. "Then what is holding you back now?"
Din frowned behind his helmet "I don't know what you are talking about." He rolled his shoulders back and walked away from him, Vizsla didn't insist, nevertheless he made Din think about it. Was he being selfish by putting his responsibilities aside to protect Luke? Even when he didn't know for sure if he was still alive? That thought made his stomach clench, he shook his head trying to shake that horrible scenery off.
Some nights inside the Razor Crest's cockpit he thought back to the days he spent with Luke, a tremulous smile crossed his face when he remembered the way the blonde looked at him, all the time, with curious eyes, full of tenderness and even love. He curled his hands into fists, he always knew that Luke would be the one ending their relationship, he was so young and impressionable, eventually when he grew up he would realize that Din was only a mandalorian with an aggressive attitude that made him a lethal weapon, nothing more and nothing less, not special at all. He was waiting for the day that beautiful young man would look right at his visor and he would see nothing but disdain in his charming blue eyes. That was the reason why he never told him about the way he felt, and the only time he couldn't hold it back he made sure Luke was almost asleep and even then he told him he loved him in mando'a, knowing that Luke wouldn't understand a single word.
"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, cyare."
The words reverberating inside his mind, making him feel lost but not regretting a single thing.
Eventually, The Empire fell and Din hasn't heard about any bounty on Luke's head since then, he didn't know why Skywalker was so important, he assumed that it was because he was a rebel, but as clever as he was, that explanation didn't satisfy him anywise.
Then, the child came into his life and since the moment he decided to rescue him from the imperial remnants they traveled across the galaxy protecting each other. The little creature could do things that Din couldn't explain or even understand, eventually he learned about something called the force, his mission was returning the kid to his own kind, the Jedi. He crossed the galaxy looking for a Jedi, they went through a lot together. The kid, Grogu, was kidnapped before his eyes on Thyton and the Razor Crest was reduced to ashes at the same moment. That day Din lost his only companion and his only home. The feeling of emptiness was consuming his whole being, an emptiness even deeper than the one Luke walking out of his life had caused, this one was terrifying, sending Din to a very dark place.
The suffering, the agony, ended when he held the little child in his arms again, there on that imperial light cruiser, doomed to a certain death at a dark troopers platoon's hands, invincible and lethal combat droids that a hooded mysterious Jedi destroyed in a blink of an eye. And when Din opened the doors to let the Jedi step inside the imperial cruiser bridge his eyes widened behind his visor as the man pulled the hood down revealing his face.
Luke.
He froze.
This is not happening.
~
The sweet warm breeze of the jungle night caressed his dirty blonde hair, he closed his eyes relishing in the calmness surrounding him, soothing his senses. He rested his hands on his knees sitting on the refreshing grass with his legs crossed, everything was quiet, he took in a breath trying to connect with his own feelings. Feelings. He frowned with his eyes still closed, he thought about how he managed to control them since the day he gave his father a proper funeral, all by himself, mourning a man no one else would miss, the entire galaxy was celebrating at the same moment he was saying goodbye to the man he looked up to since he was a little child.
Feelings. Now he was thinking about a different kind of feelings, romantic feelings, those feelings he buried deep inside himself trying to leave Din Djarin behind.
He rose to his feet walking towards the camp he set up earlier that same day, he looked inside the tent, Grogu was sleeping peacefully over a blanket, the sight of the little child using a blanket as a bed brought back memories of halcyon days, when he was full of hope and falling in love for the first time, before life removed his innocence, his dreams, his plans. He blinked remembering waking up next to Din, with his arms around him, he tilted his head trying not to think about it but he failed. He spent the rest of the night gazing at the stars, thinking about Din, he thought back to the many times he held his com device in his hand ready to hit Din's link, and how every time he let it slip from his hand convincing himself that he couldn't give Din what a lover should give. Luke understood the day he faced Darth Vader for the first time that his life didn't belong to him anymore, his master's words were reverberating inside his head every day, every hour since that day, he frowned remembering that he convinced himself that he wasn't Luke Skywalker anymore, no, he was the galaxy's last hope, a means to an end. Not a human, not a man anymore, just an instrument. He really believed that he was carrying the weight of the galaxy on his shoulders, therefore there was nothing to give a lover, there was nothing to give anymore.
~
The weeks went on and Luke spent his days training Grogu and talking with him through the force, the child was growing impatient as the days passed and the mandalorian wasn't showing up, his little heart broke into pieces when a ship crossed the sky finally landing by the recently built temple and the person walking out of it wasn't Din but Ahsoka Tano.
That afternoon Luke was flipping through the pages of an ancient Jedi book inside the temple, he frowned leaning his hands on the table when he heard a noise coming from the entrance, he glanced over his shoulder, he smiled fondly seeing Ahsoka leaning against the doorframe, she crossed her arms over her chest smiling back at him.
Luke was genuinely happy to have his father's friend and Padawan in his life, he felt a deep connection with her even when he didn't know about her until a couple of months ago.
"Studying, young Skywalker?" She asked chuckling.
Luke spun on his heels leaning his backside on the table, resting both hands on the table at both sides of his hips "Thank you for these books." He nodded.
"You're welcome." She said taking a few steps forward "You know, I've just had a curious conversation with the little one." Luke arched his eyebrows focused on her face. "He said that his mandalorian friend is coming to visit him, soon." She stressed the last word with a smirk on her face.
That made Luke looked down in order to avoid her gaze, defensively folding his arms across his chest "Huh?" He asked before leaning forward and turning around, he pretended he was still looking at the open book over the table.
Ahsoka stood still behind him "It's not a good idea, Luke."
He narrowed his eyes, sighing, letting his head hanging down.
"He's too attached to the mandalorian. You gave him your coordinates allowing him to see the child." When Luke didn't say a word she moved to stand a little closer to him "You know this is not the Jedi way."
She went silent forcing Luke to finally turning his head toward her "Well, maybe this is my way." He said under his breath, blinking at her.
"You're not thinking straight. It's okay, I understand, their bound is so strong, I get it. You think that you're keeping a child away from his father, I know you might feel overwhelmed by that, please, let me help you." She said nodding at him.
Luke frowned not breaking eye contact with her.
"I'm gonna stay here until his arrival, to persuade him."
Luke's heart skipped a beat. Was she implying what he was thinking? "Persuade him?" He asked gingerly.
She nodded again "To go away."
He closed his eyes swallowing through the lump in his throat opening his eyes slowly as he finally faced her "I admire you and I respect you, but this is my Padawan, and this is my call. Not yours."
She leaned back staring at his eyes "This is a mistake."
"Let it be my mistake, then."
~
The child was meditating sitting across from him on the beautiful grass when something brought Luke out of his thoughts, a roaring engine sound made him look up to the sky only to find a shining royal Naboo N-1 starfighter flying above their heads. He parted his lips letting out a sigh as his heart leapt in his chest, something that he hasn't felt in a long time.
Grogu stared at him asking for his permission through the force, Luke nodded and the child rose to his little feet walking towards the temple as fast as he could and Luke followed him, trying to stay behind his Padawan, coming to a halt every two steps. When they were getting close to the building he could hear Din's voice at the distance "Hello friend, I'm looking for Skywalker." Luke's stomach clenched realizing that Din was calling him by his last name, it sounded so distant and wrong, even when he used to love when Din called him Skywalker when he was teasing him. He frowned staring down, stopping in his tracks, letting Grogu get ahead. Ahsoka was right, this was, indeed, a bad idea, but for different reasons. With a heavy heart Luke recognized that he was still affected by Din's presence, but not in the way he used to, but more in a way that he could only feel remorse. He tried to convince himself that he wasn't that man anymore, that free man that could live his life the way he wanted, free enough to allow himself to feel.
"I came to see the kid. Grogu?" He could see Din now as clear as the suns in the Tatooine sky, the mandalorian was arguing with Artoo now, the little droid decided to just ignore the man in beskar while Din was resting both hands on his hips leaning forward to stare at him a little closer "Artoo cut it out. It's me, Din." Luke chuckled, what a lovely view.
His expression went serious the moment he saw the way Din reacted when he finally spotted the child next to him, the kid used the force to jump right into his mandalorian friend's arms, and the man received him with a tender sigh, holding him tight in his arms. Luke turned around and sat down on the floor, leaning his back against a tree surrounding the temple, he breathed in, just staring at the horizon, close enough to listen to what was happening between the unlikely duo, finally reunited after two months. Luke frowned, on the one side he was relieved, since he started to believe that Din wouldn't come over and visit the child. On the other side he was now worried, knowing that he was encouraging his Padawan to keep seeing the man that he was extremely attached to, going against his better judgment. He sighed brushing his fingers across his forehead, trying to convince himself that everything would work out for the best.
~
Finally he emerged from behind the Temple, his eyes trying to find the mandalorian's visor, as black and mysterious as he remembered it, a polite smile appearing on his face when the mandalorian looked at him, hidden behind his helmet. Luke blinked closing the space between them, finally coming to a halt in front of the mandalorian and the child, folding his arms in front of his body, he closed his eyes and bowed his head, he opened his eyes again pointedly staring at the visor "Welcome-" He swallowed thickly realizing that he didn't know how to address Din after so long and after everything that happened between them. In a cowardly way, he switched his gaze from Din to Grogu, leaning forward and smiling at the kid "I can see that you're happy, Grogu. I hope you're enjoying your time together." He said staring back at Din now.
To Luke's surprise, Din nodded at him holding the kid close to his chest and his soft modulated voice soothed him by saying so quietly "Hello, Luke." And Luke's heart skipped a beat.
"Hi, Din." He replied absentmindedly under his breath, taken aback by Din's easiness. "Welcome, Din." He said finally finding the right words.
The sun was setting, bathing Din's beskar in orange light, making him look so warm and soft, but at the same time so brutally masculine and imposing.
"I'm leaving you guys, please, enjoy yourselves. I see you by dinner time." He looked at Din like trying to assess his mood.
"Thank you." He nodded again and Luke walked away from them, trying to process that Din Djarin was there, probably staring at him while he was walking into the Temple and he grimaced thinking about the day he let Din walk away from him and the decisions he made after that moment. Feeling his chest going tight as the air felt thick and his hands started sweating, he shook his head, trying to shrug his feeling of guilt away.
~
They sat down around a campfire, Luke was sitting with his back against Din, the mandalorian was feeding Grogu, the blonde Jedi smiled fondly every time he heard the kid making happy noises while Din was scolding him every two minutes.
He breathed deeply, letting the night air fill his lungs, the smell of nature blending in with the smoke and their spicy stew making him feel at ease, at home.
He was staring at the stars above his head when Din's voice took him out of his mind "He's fast asleep."
"Hmm?" Luke hummed not turning around.
"Maybe I should take him to his bedroom." The mandalorian said standing up and suddenly appearing before Luke's eyes, the blonde craned his neck to stare at him, he blinked a few times realizing that Din looked exactly the way he remembered him and something warm squirmed in his belly. "Luke?"
Fuck, I didn't remember how much I love the way you say my name.
Easy, Luke.
"Skywalker?" Din insisted now saying his last name and breaking Luke's reverie.
"Yes, let me walk you there." He finally said, getting to his feet.
He watched the mandalorian while he was carefully placing the baby in the bed and tucking him in, and he managed to sport a blank expression while a warmth feeling invaded him completely. Din was still a protector, it was obvious, always taking care of the ones he loved, Luke's heartbeat sped up when he realized Din had been staring at him for a while, the mandalorian was immobile, standing by the little one's bed.
The Jedi cleared his throat "Let me show you to your room, Din." He tried to hide how touched he was by the way Din was taking care of the baby, it was curious but he never thought about the possibility of Din being a father, and now it was the only thing that he could think about.
He didn't wait for Din to join him, he walked down the corridor as fast as he could and then he stood in front of a door, Din came to a halt, they were keeping a prudential distance between them. Luke gestured towards the door and Din opened it, peeking inside, the room looked cozy, since Luke spent the evening arranging it for Din.
"Looks really nice." The mandalorian said, but his visor was fixed on Luke's face now.
"What happened with the Razor Crest?" He asked without even thinking and when he noticed the way Din's shoulders tensed up he hated himself for even bringing it up.
"The imps blew it up after they kidnapped Grogu." He said still staring at Luke's face.
Shit.
Another reason to be mortified. He thought back to Din's words on the imperial light cruiser.
"I've been looking for a Jedi for so long, I put the child in danger looking for your people, we've lost everything."
"I'm sorry." He managed to say, and Din shrugged one arm at him, but Luke was really apologizing to him by saying those words, he knew that he was responsible for that too, since he hid his true nature from Din.
Silence settled between them for a while until Din swayed slightly on his feet "You look-" He tilted his head "Different." He finally said eliciting a chuckle from Luke.
"Yeah, I know." His blue eyes sparkling, then his smile died on his lips, thinking that while Din looked exactly the same he couldn't help but wonder how he looked behind his handsome helmet, a sliver of shame tormenting him, knowing that he once relished in Din's gorgeous face and his lovely brown eyes through the visions he couldn't control, in secret, another thing he hid from Din, and he couldn't help but try to imagine how he would look like after six years. Was his gorgeous dark hair painted in salt and pepper now? Were his warm expressive eyes graced with wrinkles at their corners? What about his freckles? What about his scars? Did life add new ones on his soft tanned skin? He blinked realizing he was lost in thought when Din leaned forward and his heart gave an extra beat.
"Your skin is paler now, and your hair looks darker, it's shorter, not messy anymore. And your eyes-" Din trailed off.
"My eyes?" Luke asked tilting his head.
"They look sad." He added in a lower voice making Luke's heart clench. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. It's just, you look different."
Trying to escape the situation Luke chuckled again "It's okay. Well, it's been ten years since we met."
"Actually it's been nine." Din retorted and Luke froze.
He nodded pressing his lips against each other, cracking a small smile "You're right." Of course he knew that they met nine years ago but he didn't have Din down as someone who might care about details, he always seemed so practical that it never crossed his mind. "Yeah, nine years." He added trying to play down the conversation.
"It's okay if you don't remember that, maybe it was more important to me than it was to you." Din deadpanned not breaking eye contact with him and the blonde felt a shiver running down his spine.
"What was more important to you?" He managed to ask under his breath.
Din drew his hand up resting it on the doorframe "Meeting you."
Luke's eyebrows drew together as his mouth set in a hard line, he was shocked, realizing that, maybe, Din hadn't moved on and his heart broke into pieces, he needed to soothe Din, he needed to be clear. "Well, I think I deserve it. Although you know it's not true." He finally said as he could feel his heartbeat thumping in his ears.
Din tilted his head like doubting him and Luke couldn't take it anymore.
"Oh come on, Din! You know I was crazy about you! I'm sure you noticed the way I shivered every time I saw you, staring at you with puppy eyes and a goofy smile on my face." He heaved a sigh, feeling vulnerable and naked before Din's eyes, still he didn't regret it.
Din hummed but didn't say a word. Indeed, Luke was exposing himself here, a little too much to suit him. He tried to compose himself but he wanted to be honest with Din. No more lies, no more lies.
"Look Din..." He said staring down, he sighed resting his hands on his hips, then he looked at Din again "I'm a Jedi Master now and I'm training your-" He trailed off.
"My foundling." Din said withdrawing his hand from the doorframe and shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
Luke took note of Din's uneasiness, thinking that maybe he was struggling with his feelings towards the child, he nodded staring at Din's visor "So please, don't make this even harder." He added wearing his heart on his sleeve for the first time in a while. Din flinched slightly by hearing him said it. Luke clicked his tongue shifting his gaze from Din to the wall.
"Luke, I need you to be honest." Din said trying to catch his eyes and he succeeded, the blonde was looking into his visor again as his blue eyes burned with sadness. "I met this Jedi, Ahsoka Tano." Luke nodded. "And she refused to take the child in because she said he has formed a strong attachment to me. What am I doing here?" He asked and Luke could swear he heard his voice breaking a little.
The blonde frowned looking at him sideways and finally avoiding his visor.
"Are you doing this because it's me?" He asked moving closer to Luke making his pulse run wild, as his chest heaved. "I mean, I know I shouldn't see him, shouldn't keep in touch with him. Tell me then, would you let Grogu see his guardian if it wasn't me? If it were someone else?"
Luke stared into his visor with an unusual intensity "No." He said flatly. "I wouldn't do this if it were someone else." He narrowed his eyes.
No more lies. No more lies.
Din leaned back still staring at him "Why?"
He frowned and looked down "You told me once that we shouldn't overthink things. So please, just trust me. Grogu will learn about balance, I'll see to it, it's my commitment." He nodded and raised his eyebrows "I won't put the child in danger or expose him to something that would lead him down the wrong path. Ever." He shook his head. "I hope it helps."
"It does." The mandalorian replied.
Luke was feeling relieved, therefore he tried to let the subject behind them "My bedroom's over there." He said pointing at the next door "Don't worry, this place is extremely safe and Grogu will be fine in his own room." He smiled politely "Well, you must be tired, see you tomorrow. Good night, Din." The blonde turned around and walked towards his own room fighting against the urge to glance at Din over his shoulder, still he didn't need to look at him to know that the man was still standing in the same spot, and, presumably, staring at him. When he closed the door behind him he rubbed his face hard with his hands, not believing everything that happened that night. Din was a door away from him and flashes of their nights together started invading his mind. It was torture.
"You're not a kid anymore, come on, Luke." He said staring at himself in the mirror, he huffed "You're a Jedi, get your shit together, man."
He shrugged off his black robes and peeled off his undershirt, placing them on a chair, he caressed the skin of his stomach, he arched one eyebrow. Seeing Din again ignited something inside him, it definitely brought something back. He has been considering his own body as a device, a way to canalize the force, for a long time now, it wasn't a source of pleasure in the strict sense of the word anymore. Anyway. He frowned thinking that it belonged to the past now, to feel the need to give himself to someone else. He tried to remember when was the last time that someone touched him tenderly, reverently, lovingly, and he sighed deeply realizing that that someone was none other than Din. He twitched his lips sitting on the bed and taking his boots off, finally lying on the mattress, resting his forearm against his forehead, staring at the ceiling. What was Din thinking at that right moment? He was curious. Din didn't seem to hate him, still his hostility towards Luke was there, waiting to express itself. He groaned covering his face with the pillow, knowing that this would be a long night.
~
The morning came and Luke walked out of his room only to find that Grogu and Din weren't inside the Temple. He left the building concerned, his heart in his throat until he found them playing by a creek, near the Temple, R2-D2 was unceasingly beeping at him, sliding around him in circles, trying to explain him that the child and the mandalorian were just having a bonding time by the creek.
"It's alright Artoo, I heard you the three first times, don't worry." He chuckled patting the little droid's head. He straightened out his back staring at Din, the mandalorian nodded at him scooping the baby up and Luke's smile went impossible wide.
While the kid was playing with Artoo, Din stood beside Luke. The two men staring at the little child and the droid enjoying themselves. Luke was smiling until Din tilted his head "I'm going to Mandalore." Luke frowned snapping his head towards him.
"Is it because the saber that's hanging from your utility belt?" The Jedi asked looking down at Din's waist.
"This?" Din asked curling his fingers around the hilt. "Partially." He added. "What do you know about this?" He asked turning towards Luke.
"Not enough, I'm afraid." He sighed "Grogu showed me some memories through the force. Is that true?" He asked as his forehead creased "That winning that saber in combat makes you The Mand'alor?"
Din shrugged one shoulder watching at the child and the droid "Yes."
Luke sighed "So you're the King of Mandalore." He said under his breath.
"I don't care about that." Din deadpanned.
Luke faced him "Then why are you going to Mandalore?"
The mandalorian took his time to answer "To redeem myself." Luke stared at him frowning. "I'm a mandalorian no more."
Luke froze and then he stared at Din holding his breath.
"I took my helmet off to rescue the child." He nodded.
Luke's heart skipped a beat, he parted his lips as horror crossed his features "What?"
"I'm not longer a mandalorian, Luke."
Luke stumbled a little and Din tried to catch him but it wasn't necessary since Luke leaned himself against a tree.
"Luke?" He asked trying to look at his eyes. But Luke was staring down, feeling like the air has been punched out of his lungs.
It couldn't be.
Din didn't lie when he said they've lost everything, he lost his home and his creed and he was now an outcast, while Grogu went through unspeakable torture and Luke was to blame.
"Luke?" Din asked again hesitating touching Luke's arm.
"I'm sorry." Luke whispered "It's on me, I'm sorry, I should have told you I was a force-user." His chest raising and falling fast.
Din tilted his helmet "I'm telling you this because I'm planning on coming back as soon as I redeem myself. This is the way." He nodded as his visor was fixed on Luke's face.
"Alright." Luke was leaning forward trying to catch his breath.
"I'm leaving around afternoon." Din said taking a few steps back, Luke looked at him confused. "I'm coming back as soon as I can. Is that okay?" He asked melting Luke's heart.
How could this man be so respectful? So perfect? So thoughtful? Luke shook his head not believing it, almost believing he didn't deserve his attention, not even in the past. "No?" Din sheepishly asked tilting his head down.
"What? No. Of course you can!" Luke straightened his dark robes "We'll be here, he'll be here waiting to see you again, Din."
"And what about you?" The mandalorian asked taking Luke's breath away.
"What?" Luke came close to him, staring up at his visor.
"Are you okay with me coming back? Is it right?" He bored into Luke's eyes, making the Jedi scowl.
Something was telling Luke that Din wasn't talking about the Jedi ways.
"You know I'm okay with that." He whispered.
Din nodded "Alright then." He looked back at Grogu "Can I spend the rest of the morning with him?" He looked at Luke again "Just the two of us."
The blonde nodded smiling sightly "Yes, Din."
"Thank you, Luke." Din looked at his own ship for a moment and then stared at Luke "I brought something for the kid, is a hovering pram, I-I think you'd find it useful. Would you accept it?"
Luke swallowed hard, he couldn't help but think that Din was seeing him as a monster with a cold heart, and it didn't sit well with him at all. "It would be very useful indeed, Din." The corner of his lips curled up but his smile didn't reach his eyes.
"Thank you again, Luke." Din said and then he walked away to join the child and Luke felt like his heart was ripping in two. How could his decisions bring so much pain? He couldn't wrap his head around it staring at his once-lover walking away from him, just like that time on Dagobah and his stomach flipped. Was it worth it, Luke? Was it worth it?
~
The kid looked extremely downhearted that evening, Luke handed him a bowl of soup and the kid didn't even lean forward to shove his spoon inside the bowl as usual. Luke patted his little arm "Don't worry Grogu, he's coming back soon." Grogu looked at him and babbled a little "You can miss him and still have a wholesome relationship with him." Luke said trying to convince himself more than reassuring the child. Yes, they could make it work.
Grogu chirped drawing his tiny hand up to grab the spoon, Luke nodded smiling when, all of a sudden, a vision reached him through the force. He parted his lips staring at the child, he narrowed his eyes as he put both hands on the table, glimpses of Din groaning in pain while he was encased in a narrow cage popping up in his mind, he could even feel Din's agony. He stood up abruptly. Grogu tilted his little head to stare at him with curious eyes.
"There's no time Grogu." The Jedi said scooping the baby up "The mandalorian needs us." The child whimpered concerned gripping onto Luke's forearm as he strode down the corridor. Luke opened the Temple's door with a wave of his free hand, his eyes flickered with determination, knowing that they were Din Djarin's only hope.
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all-the-things-2020 · 1 year ago
Text
Deeds Not Less Valiant - Chapter Five
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Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Tala Pavan)
Rating: PG
Summary: Din and Grogu return from Mandalore. Tala and Din start to realize they might have feelings for each other.
Word Count: 3000+
Notes: Not a lot of action in this chapter but lots of feels. Tala and Din are getting soft and squishy inside.
Tala was haunted by Din’s face. Her first reaction had been permeated by Grogu’s sadness, but now it was her own emotions that confronted her. She knew she was fond of Din. He was gentle and kind, despite the fearsome exterior, and she considered him a friend. Now, she felt something more than mere friendship. There was something about his eyes, a soulfulness that radiated out of them that spoke to her. Yes, he was handsome. Yes, his slightly wavy hair cried out for her fingers to run through it. Yes, his patchy but neatly trimmed beard begged for a kiss right on the little bare spot along his chin. And yes, his broad shoulders promised hugs that would banish so many of her demons. But it was his eyes that haunted her. The thought of such depth and emotion hidden from the world behind a helmet …
Forget about it, she told herself. After the way Din had stormed out, she wasn’t even sure if he’d want to continue her time with Grogu, let alone get to know her better. Maybe it was for the best. 
The next Benduday, Neeli parked herself near the door and waited for Grogu. But the door never chimed. Tala finally lured her away with some freeze dried bantha snacks she usually reserved for bribing her to get her claws trimmed. Afterward, Neeli pouted in her basket, refusing to come down all day. 
“I understand,” Tala said, turning away from the grumpy tooka. “I miss them, too.”
It had only been a week, but she was already thinking of her time with Grogu as the “good old days.” It was ridiculous, but there had been a true connection between the three of them. Four, if you counted Neeli, which she was sure Grogu did. The child was desperate for a pet, someone his size that he could play with, and had latched onto Neeli immediately. She remembered how gentle Din had been with the tooka and her heart clenched. Neeli was afraid of men, but she’d seen something in Din that allowed her to trust him.
“I blew it, didn’t I, Neeli?”
That night, Tala cried herself to sleep for the first time in years. 
**************************************************************
The following week was bland and colorless. Tala went to work and did her chores, dragging herself through the days. Neeli was also down, refusing to play with her toys and spending much more time up in her basket. Tala knew it was temporary, that time would ease the sense of loss, but for the moment, she had to get through it. She’d had her trust and affections betrayed before; everyone had. It was just part of life. 
When Benduday rolled around, Tala got dressed but didn’t bother to do much with her hair. She’d done her shopping on Taungsday and there wasn’t much in front of her except some housecleaning and trying to tempt Neeli to get some exercise.
The door chimed and both she and Neeli jumped. Neeli chirped a question and trotted toward the door, her tail up for the first time in days. “Do you really think it’s them?” Tala smoothed the worst of her stray hairs down as she walked toward the door.
:Neeli! I brought a toy!:
Grogu bounded inside, waving a brightly colored furry womp rat with a bell attached to its tail.
“Hey, kid, good to see you,” Tala said.
:Yes. We went to Mandalore. Dad has a new ship!: Neeli pounced on him and Grogu collapsed in giggles.
“And you, too,” Tala said shyly.
“Sorry we didn’t make it last week,” Din said. “We were … out of town.”
“Grogu says you went to Mandalore.”
Din nodded. “We did. I’m sorry, but I missed last week’s meeting with Greef. Can we talk more when I get back?” He handed her a small device. “I meant to give this to you last time but …” He cleared his throat. “It’s a private comm. I would have called you, let you know we weren’t coming.”
“It’s fine,” Tala said, taking the comm and slipping it into her pocket. “Go to your meeting. There will be plenty of time afterwards.”
“Be good, kid,” Din said as he left. Grogu didn’t hear him, too busy tumbling around on the floor with Neeli. Din sighed. “He missed her.”
“She missed him,” Tala said. “So did I.”
Din’s helmet tilted. “I’ll explain everything. I promise.” Then he was gone.
Tala sat on the couch and watched Grogu and Neeli play. He floated the womp rat into the air and Neeli leapt up to catch it. Sometimes Grogu let her get it, but mostly he kept it just out of reach, and soon they were both out of breath and ready for some cuddly time on the couch.
:So, you went to Mandalore: Tala prompted.
:Yes! Dad talked to the armor lady and Bo. And we got a new ship! It has room for the starfighter. And you can come next time. Dad said.: Grogu leaned against her side as he stroked Neeli’s fur. He was already getting sleepy; she could sense it in his thoughts.
:Next time?: 
But Grogu had dozed off.
Tala gently laid him down and stepped into the ‘fresher. She busied herself arranging her hair into something more attractive. What did Grogu mean by “next time?” And who was Bo? She’d seen the “armor lady” before in Grogu’s memories, but there had been only a fleeting image of a woman in armor, without a helmet, her red hair neatly bobbed. Whoever she was, Grogu liked her. 
The thought struck her suddenly. Maybe Din was married. Or engaged. This sudden trip to Mandalore may have been because of her seeing his face. Had Din needed to atone for that? Was letting someone else see his face a form of cheating? But why would his wife (or fiancée) be on Mandalore while he and Grogu lived on Nevarro? 
Stop jumping to conclusions. Din had promised to explain everything, and once Grogu was up from his nap, he might have more to share. Be patient. She stared at her face in the mirror. “You can do this.”
Grogu slept for a good half hour, curled up against Neeli, his hand resting on her fur. Tala did a bit of cleaning, but her heart wasn’t in it. When the child yawned and sat up, she forced herself to walk calmly over to him.
“Have a good nap?”
:Naps are always good. If they’re my idea.: 
:Very true.: 
Neeli stretched and then snapped back into a ball. :Neeli’s still sleepy:
“Cats sleep more than humans,” Tala said. 
“Ya.” Grogu nodded. :Dad is happy that I can talk more. He told Bo.:
Tala chose her words carefully. “I don’t know who Bo is.”
:She has red hair. She’s in charge of Mandalore. She takes her helmet off all the time. She gave me some peppers.:
“Is she a friend of you and your dad?”
“Ya.” Grogu’s ears pricked up. :Dad takes his helmet off now. Just for me! I can’t show you.:
“That’s okay,” she said. “I shouldn’t have asked about it last time.”
Grogu’s ears drooped a little. :Dad was upset.:
“But he’s not upset anymore,” she assured him. 
His ears drifted back up. “Ya.” He cocked his head. :Snacks?:
Tala smiled. She wasn’t going to get much more out of him, that was clear. She pulled out the box of cookies she’d bought the week before, hoping they weren’t stale. Evidently not, as Grogu demolished four of them in record time. The crunching woke up Neeli and once the cookies were gone, they returned to their play.
So, Din was removing his helmet in front of Grogu now. Bo was “in charge” of Mandalore and was Din and Grogu’s friend. But would a small child be able to differentiate between friendship and romance? Or perhaps it was a political arrangement. If Bo took her helmet off all the time, she must be part of  another faction of Mandalorians. Maybe she and Din represented an alliance between the two groups. There were many stories of princes and princesses being married off to total strangers for political reasons. Was that why Din lived on Nevarro?
Stop it, she told herself. You have no proof that this Bo is anything more than just a friend. After all, Grogu said the helmet was just for him. It was all very confusing. She’d have to wait for Din to return and explain everything.
Fortunately, she didn’t have to wait long. When the door chimed, Grogu and Neeli stopped their game. “Da!” 
Tala pressed the door lock and let Din in. Neeli was wary but didn’t retreat all the way to her basket. 
“I brought some namba patties,” Din said, holding up a small packet. “Thought Grogu might be hungry.”
“He was, until he ate four cookies,” Tala said.
:Hungry again. Always hungry.:
“But he says he could still eat.”
Din chuckled. “I’m sure he can. There are enough for each of us. I’ll … eat mine later at home, but please, help yourself.”
“Thank you.” She pulled out a couple of plates and poured a cup of water for Grogu and the last of her morning caf for herself. “So, Grogu told me a little. You went to Mandalore. You have a new ship. You take your helmet off now.”
Din fidgeted with his glove. “I should apologize first for rushing out last time,” he said. “I wasn’t upset with you, or with Grogu. I just needed some time to process.”
“I understand.”
He sighed deeply. “The thought that Grogu’s only memory of my face was one of grief and sadness was devastating. I remember my parents — my birth parents — when they left me. They were scared. They were sad.” He paused. “But I have other memories of them. From before. Grogu didn’t have any other memories of me. And he’s going to live for such a long time. Knowing he might have centuries ahead of him and only one image of me … I had to speak to the Armorer.”
“The armor lady. That’s what Grogu calls her.”
“She is the leader of my tribe, the Children of the Watch. She is the one who taught me the Way of the Mandalore. I have always trusted her judgment.”
Tala nodded, giving Din the time and space to tell the story the way he needed to, even though she had a million questions.
“When we arrived, I left Grogu with Lady Bo-Katan and went straight to the Armorer. I told her of my conflict, my crisis of faith, and she counseled me. There was a time when she would have firmly told me that removing my helmet would make me cease to be a true Mandalorian, but now … things are different. Since our tribe joined with that of Lady Bo-Katan, since we took back Mandalore, the Way is a little less rigid. The Armorer said I should think on it and follow my heart, which would show me the Way that was best for me.”
“And that way is to let Grogu see your face,” Tala prompted.
“Yes,” Din said. “He is part of my Clan. He is my son. There is no one closer to my heart than him, and I must do what is best for him.”
“I’m happy for you both,” Tala said. And she was, truly. It was just … “Grogu mentioned Bo — Lady Bo-Katan, as you call her. He says she’s in charge of Mandalore.”
Din nodded. “Lady Bo-Katan Kryze is the leader of our people. She’s … a bit prickly at first but she has the interests of Mandalore at heart. She has softened her stance toward my tribe, just as the Armorer has softened her stance toward hers. I’m not sure why but the two of them meeting has been immensely important for the future of Mandalore.”
“Grogu says she’s your friend. She gave him peppers.”
Din laughed. “Dank farrik, the kid will eat anything! She took him to check on the hydroponic gardens.” He paused. “She’d like to meet you. That’s why she offered me the new ship. A small freighter. My starfighter only seats one human.”
“She gave you a ship just so you can bring me with you?” 
“She’d like to talk to Grogu. So would the Armorer. And I’ll be doing some cargo runs for Mandalore, in addition to my off the books work for the New Republic. The ship wasn’t exactly free.”
:Bo called you dad’s girlfriend: Grogu chimed in. :It was funny!:
Tala’s face went hot. “Grogu … he said Bo called me your girlfriend and it was funny.”
Din tilted his helmet. “You shouldn’t have repeated that, kid,” he said sternly. “I”m sorry. Bo-Katan has an … interesting sense of humor. The Mandalorians of her tribe are not as serious as those in mine. Just as stubborn and proud, but more sarcastic. She was teasing me. It had nothing to do with you personally.”
“I understand. Friends can be aggravating at times.” 
“I don’t have many friends,” Din said slowly. “Comrades and colleagues, yes, but true friends? I have sworn to serve Lady Bo-Katan until her song is finished, but I don’t know if I would consider her a friend.” 
“What about me?” The words were out before Tala could stop them. 
“You are a friend,” Din said firmly. “To me and to Grogu.”
Tala nodded. “And you are friends to me. I … don’t have many friends either. At least, not here on Nevarro.”
There was an awkward silence, then Din cleared his throat. “We should be going. I’m sure you have things to do.”
“And I’m sure you want to eat your namba patty before it gets too cold,” she replied. “Unless you’d like me and Neeli to take a little walk, so you can eat it here?”
Din shook his head. “I’m still getting used to taking my helmet off at home. I don’t think I could remove it somewhere else. Maybe next time.”
“I understand.” She stood up. “Well, you two had better get home then. Same time next week?”
Din nodded. “I’ll comm you if there’s any change. Sometimes we get called away.”
:Adventures.: Grogu nodded solemnly. 
“Be careful on your adventures,” Tala told Grogu. “Look after your dad.”
Din swept the child up in his arms. “He always does. We’re a good team, aren’t we, kid?”
“Ya.” Grogu followed up with a burp.
“We’re still working on manners,” Din said dryly.
Tala smiled. “Have a good week.” As the door slid shut behind them, she turned to Neeli. “That went well, don’t you think?”
The tooka yawned and leaped onto the table to look for crumbs. “Grogu’s not the only one who needs to work on manners,” Tala said. Neeli merely flicked an ear in her direction and Tala didn’t have the heart to scold her. Din and Grogu were back in their lives.
*******************************
“Maybe next time?” Din mentally shook his head. What was I thinking? Removing his helmet in the privacy of his own home, in the presence of his clan member, was one thing. Blithely offering to remove it somewhere else, even if he was alone with Grogu? Idiot.
Grogu made an enquiring sound. “It’s nothing, kid,” Din said. “Just thinking about something dumb I said.” He sighed. “I’m not used to having a friend. Someone who is just a friend, I mean.” It was true. Most of his relationships with others had some goal in mind: completing a mission, finding a job to pay the bills. There was always an implied contract of some sort. Help me do this and I’ll help you do that. That’s how things had started with Tala, a simple arrangement. Watch my kid and you get to practice your telepathy. Keep him out of trouble and I’ll pay for the snacks. Now, it was something more. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but the dynamic had changed.
“How do you even know what a girlfriend is?,” he asked Grogu. The child blinked, puzzled. “You told Tala it was funny that Bo-Katan called her that. What do you know about boyfriends and girlfriends?”
Grogu shrugged. Din sighed once more. The only way he could find out would be to ask Tala to mediate and he certainly wasn’t going to do that. He’d seen the flush of heat in her cheeks, thanks to the thermal sensors in his helmet. Grogu’s comment had embarrassed her. It had embarrassed him, too. He’d have to remember that just because Grogu couldn’t physically speak, it didn’t mean he didn’t understand every word he heard. And he wasn’t shy about repeating things. 
“I know you like Tala,” Din said carefully. “But you can’t just tell her everything.” Grogu’s ears drooped. “There are some things that are just between you and me, okay? Especially anything anyone else says about Tala. Or anything I might say about her.” 
Grogu nodded. His ears drifted back up. “I really shouldn’t even be talking about this with you,” Din continued. “You’re far too young to understand. But I can’t talk to Greef about it. He’d be worse than Bo-Katan.” Greef appreciated a beautiful woman as much (or more) than the average man, and wasn’t shy about making his feelings known. He took rebuffs in stride, although now that he was well off and had a measure of local power, they were far fewer than before. “I don’t even know if I want anything more than friendship. That sort of thing just hasn’t been an option for me.”
It helped to talk to Grogu, even though he couldn’t answer. It was better than letting the same thoughts spin round and round in his head, like a massif chasing its tail. Matters of the heart had never been a priority before. For the first time in a very long time, Din felt as though he wasn’t just surviving; he was living. He shared that life with Grogu, and it was good. But maybe there was something more for them both. 
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shangchiswife · 2 years ago
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din djarin (smut)- helping hand
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summary: din is frustrated after a bounty gets away so you help him out
din djarin x gn!reader
warnings: straight up smut, oral (m receiving)
word count: 870
....
You had been playing catch with Grogu in the cockpit of the Razor Crest, matching smiles on both of your faces when the Mandalorian you worked for stormed onto the ship, his metal boots clanking onto the floor.
Grogu squealed and immediately crawled into your arms out of fear of the loud noises his father was making.
Finally, the Mandalorian strode into the cockpit, and immediately you could practically feel his anger steaming off him.
He sat onto the pilot seat and immediately started smashing buttons, urging the ship to life.
The child in your arms cooed and rested his head in the crook of your neck.
"Din?" you questioned as you stood up and stroked Grogu's wrinkly head.
The Mandalorian gave no response, but you could see his gloved fingers grip the steering device tightly.
"Come on, let's get you to bed, baby," you planted a gentle kiss on the baby's head before disappearing away from the cockpit and into the quiet room of the child.
Once you lulled the child to sleep with sweet nothings, you returned to the cockpit where your Mandalorian sat, and went beside him in the passenger seat.
"Din, you scared the baby earlier," your voice was soft as he turned his helmet an inch before returning his gaze to the steering device.
"I'm sorry," his voice was rough, you could hear the twinge of anger in his voice.
You rested a gentle hand on his knee.
"What's wrong?" you asked knowingly.
"I lost the bounty. He slipped right past my fingers and escaped on a cruiser," he said.
You could feel his rage burning off him through the force, it's red hot signature battling against your cool blue one.
"We can still get him, you know, you're the best bounty hunter out there," you coaxed as you rubbed his knee gently.
"How, Y/N? He's probably already on Tatooine and catching another ship to get out of the system," he groaned.
"I know you can catch a measly bounty, Din, you just need the right motivation," 
With that last comment, you slipped out of your seat and bent down on your knees in front of your partner.
His breath hitched at the sight of you beneath him.
"Cyar'ika, what are you doing?" he asked as you tied your hair back.
"What do you think I'm doing, I'm helping you out with your anger," your eyes glinted mischievously as you eyed the now prominent tent in his fly pants.
"You don't need to do that," he protested as he brought one of his gloved hands to your cheeks and stroked them.
"But I want to, Din," a smile stretched across your face as he sighed.
"Fine," 
And at those words of confirmation, you undid his pants and let his leaking cock spring free.
You licked your lips, making sure that Din saw before you put your hand on his cock and stroked it slowly.
He bucked his hips up in response which earned a giggle from you.
He said nothing but instead spread his legs further apart giving you more room.
 You inched closer to his aching cock and took your finger and gently gathered some of his pre-cum and swiped it across your lips.
"Maker," you heard his modulated voice rasp out.
You tilted your head upward, making sure his helmet followed your actions as you licked his pre-cum off your lips.
You gave his dick one last stroke before you bent your head down and pressed your lips to the tip.
"Stop teasing, Y/N," Din warned, his voice not hiding his impatience.
You gave him one last smirk before wrapping your lips around his cock making him suck in a breath.
His hand went immediately to your hair as he let out a blissful sigh.
"Such a good mouth,"
You sucked softly, simply wanting to taste him at first before you took him deeper in your mouth.
You took as much as him as you could, fighting off your gag reflex so that you could please him.
"Mesh'la," he moaned as his grip on your hair tightened when your cheeks hollowed.
You started sucking harder, bobbing your head up and down on his cock, eyes never leaving his helmet.
"Fuck you're so good for me," his words of praise shooting straight to your heat.
Your tongue continued to swirl along his dick as you felt your eyes prick with tears.
"I'm close," he pushed your head closer to his cock as you sucked like someone famished.
"My cyar'ika," he panted, his gloved fingers massaged your jaw and swiped away at your stray tears.
A moment later you felt his cum come down your throat.
You waited until every last drop of cum was down your throat before you went off of him with a large pop.
You licked your lips and wiped your eyes while Din zipped up his pants.
You rested your head on his thigh and watched him with a dazed smile.
"How do you feel?" you questioned as his helmet tilted down at you with admiration.
"Good," he responded.
"Great, so let's get that bounty!" you said as he shook his head slowly making you arch your eyebrows.
He bent down and lifted you up and placed you over his lap.
"Before that, I have some things I need to do to you," his gloved fingers trailed down your waist to your ass.
A smile stretched across your face as you put your hands on his chest.
"I'm looking forward to it,"
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gaiuswrites · 4 years ago
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Original Sin | Darksaber!Din
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Pairing: Dark!Din x fem!Reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ older for the love of all things holy)
Word count: 3.4k~
Summary: Things change after Grogu leaves. People change. No one is exempt.
Warnings/tags: DUB CON?¿, masturbation (m and f), inappopriate use of darksaber, sex toy (...), Dark!Din, Dom!Din, sacrilegious references, really dark shit, i am so sorry
Update: This should go without saying, but as it turns out, it’s in need of being said: every word written in this fic is my own; any likeness to any other work is coincidence, regardless of how bizarre. I don’t mean to offend anyone or raise suspicion, as I am certainly not a plagiarist (literally couldn’t be even if I tried: I am equal parts too incompetent, too busy, and too lazy to steal from someone else. Fellow writers can attest, I’m an absolute garbage reader and fall behind on almost everyone’s work. There’s an embarrassing amount I haven’t read.) Please reach out to me personally if you have any concerns. I respect everyone here like you wouldn’t believe. Sending love to you all. Be well. ✨
Notes: When I go to hell (it really is only a matter of timing, and not so much a question of if anymore), this fic will rank number one on the list of reasons why I’m sent to my eternal timeout. This... I'm twisted. I have issues. God help us. Seriously, this is basically a horror show. I bow down to the Darksaber!Din content creators who came before me, and the original artwork that inspired me to write this— thank you for lighting this (descending, dirty) path. I HAVE TAGGED A FEW PEOPLE HERE WHO MAY OR MAY NOT BE INTERESTED but really— REALLY— there’s absolutely no pressure. Cheers friends x ( gif credit: @skyshipper )
Masterlist | Read it on Ao3!
The days stretch long like morning yawns—hours passing on creaky bones, slow and congealed inside the metal womb of the Crest.
It wasn’t always this way.
They used to be filled with pitter pattering— with wily antics and vanishing acts that could baffle even the most veteran of illusionists— with prying frogs from tiny, green hands and giggling as blocks and baubles floated through the hull. Laughter. There used to be laughter here.
But that was then. The child is gone now. The Razor Crest is quiet.
Time fills itself like this; there’s little for you to do now but wait. Wait for the dusk to blur into the dawn. Wait for your food to cook. Wait for the shower to warm. Wait for the parts you ordered to arrive at the port. Wait for Din to come back—to come home.
Home. You used to be so certain—you’d bite the head off anyone who questioned otherwise— but you’re not so sure this is home anymore. Its not that anything has changed. No, the galley, the carbonite pods, the cockpit, the deck—it’s all still here. The scuffed walls, the durasteel, the littered crates and packed arsenal. But—
It’s different. It feels different. Something is...
off.
You can’t quite put your finger on it. Its intangible, but it’s everywhere—like gas. Invisible to the naked eye, but encircling you all the same. Choking you.
Killing you.
There’s no good explanation for it. You feel eyes on you when there are none. You find yourself glancing over your shoulder, knowing full well you are alone. Something keeps snagging you, pulling at an unseen thread. The corners of your peripherals tugging at you. Beckoning.
Was that a shadow? No.
Is someone there? It’s just you.
There is a tickle at your ear - a constant - dancing along the shell of it. Wherever you go, it follows.
Home home home. It only feels like home when Din is there, safe and sound at your side. But even then, even Din—in all of his plated exterior—even Din has succumbed. Even Din has
changed.
The truth is, Grogu left and a part of Din left with him. There’s less of him now— more, too: there’s less where it matters, and there’s more where there shouldn’t be.
You don’t remember when it started—when he first disappeared. When the spark in him died, and he was reignited anew.
When this Other became.
On multiple occasions you’ve caught him murmuring into the bellied dark of the Crest with a bent spine, hunched over himself as if he’s shrinking—enveloping in in in as far as the beskar along his chest will allow him to cave. You can never pick up what he mutters, but you catch the sounds of his teeth and lips brushing together, hissing. It’s not Basic; you’d recognize it if it were. You don’t think its Mando’a either. It’s too sharp— too vile. There’s none of his language’s elegance in it.
“Did you say something?” You asked once, poking your head around the doorway, eyes resting on the shine of his helmet.
A beat—and slowly, he unfurled, rearing to his full height and like a sentinel he swiveled, pivoting to face you.
“No.”
Your throat bobbed. “Oh, I-I thought I heard-”
“Come here, mesh’la.”
And you did. You always do.
The darksaber appeared on his belt one day, shortly after the child went away. It came, only once, and there it stays. Indistinguishable - inseparable - there is no dismembering the two. It accompanies him in all things; when he pilots, when he hunts, when he eats. It sleeps by him.
By you, too.
Din has always been stoic—of scant words and physical timing—but now he is a golem. A silent, shrouded figure. His Creed is broken, and you wonder maybe - briefly - if Din is broken as well. He is never unkind to you. He is never threatening. But he is never him. His eyes— the oaky comfort you once found in them— have blackened. He is a pit.
Din Djarin is a pit of a man.
And within that pit he has born rage. Immaculately, it has sprung from him as woman did by Adam’s rib. Like mold growing upon stale fruit does he have this—this wrath. It crept through him. It stalked along his soft flesh— his tawny hide—and it waited; patient, there in the shadows, it waited for him. Waited for him to turn his back, to close his eyes and drop his guard— leeway, an entrance— as to slip in undetected.
To inhabit.
The virtue and love that once thrummed within the heart of him has burned away. Charred. Only this of him remains; this insatiable lust— for blood sport, for the promise of split knuckles and fractured bone, for you.
For all of you.
Now, Din goes out on bounties like he needs it—like it’s oxygen. He lives off it. He’s sustained by the rush, by the adrenaline laced chemicals pumping through his arteries. He’s gone for days and weeks on end and when he returns, he fucks you like he’s been starved. Out in the wilderness without a morsel to eat, he devours you. He’s ravenous as he tears his way across your body—all too pliant for him, all too willing—letting him feast on the nectar dripping from your heat.
You can feel it in his foot steps as he storms the ship, the bassy echo of it. You can see it in the pitch of his visor. You can feel it in his cock as he slams into you, night after night after night—ceaselessly. Tirelessly. Unnaturally. The number of orgasms he wrings out of you is countless—his need so incurable, you have to fight to stay above it all; you have to war against your urge to slip away completely.
Din is one grey choice - one hair trigger - from coming undone.
And you should be scared. You should be terrified—he should terrify you. Like scalding water, you should flinch away at the mere sight of him—at the warning steam that rises from his pauldrons. This predator, unhinged and off his leash—a great, crushing beast at which you are at the mercy of.
But— you aren’t.
You couldn’t place it at first: the gnawing. The gnawing at your insides like maggots festering upon a grizzled carcass hanging limp at a wet market. You couldn’t name the tremor in your gut. You gave it epithets as best you could, you gave it placeholders - fear, worry, intrigue - all until one day it spilled. One day it seeped past the tremble of your stomach and sank lower, lower,
lower.
It settled in your cunt—the gnawing. And you named it Want.
You want him. You want this—you’re addicted to it. This sin like led-lined velvet, you want to roll in it until it poisons you, until you’re smothered with it, just like it’s smothering you now— blanketing you as you mewl naked in your bed, knees knocked together. Your eyes roll back into your skull as you frantically work circles into your clit with the all consuming thought of him: his teeth at your shoulders, his hand around your windpipe.
You’re nearing your finish, the promise of that tight coil unraveling there - there - right before you. You’re so enrapt in it—in this dizzying, wanton act—you don’t register the ramp lowering. You don’t hear the carbonite chamber whir, his quarry freezing over, or his foot falls sounding their way to your bunk.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
You gasp, frightened eyelids wrenching open as his baritone timbre crackles through the hull. The Mandalorian stands there, backlit by the glow from the galley and he looms—expressionless. Haunting. You blink at him rapidly, batting away the desire that’s glazed over your eyes.
“Y-You’re back,” you stutter lamely. You try to smile. You try to distract him. “I uhm, I didn’t hear you come in. I thought you wouldn’t be back until, u-until..."
Your excuses fade, mouth parched dry. The film of his visor gives you nothing. He is unknowable, but you feel it - sense it - that energy—unbridled and rippling off of him in sick, suffocating waves.
“I’ll ask you again,” Din starts.
“What-" he steps towards you, darksaber hanging heavy at his hip, “do you think-" you shimmy up your cot, shoulder blades digging into the steel sidings, “you’re doing?”
Your heart thunders against your chest, beating until you’re sure it’ll burst.
“I’m-"
I’m sorry you almost say, and you have to force yourself to gulp down the apology. You know he doesn’t want it, and he knows you wouldn’t mean it even if you offered it to him.
Your brow wavers. “I-"
He rips away the sheet you had drawn up over you and reflexively you jerk back, revealing the gloss on your fingers and the patch of hair above your mound, shimmering shamefully—exposing you, mocking you under the dim lights.
“What’s this?” he asks, and fuck he’s patronizing you. He’s smirking—you don’t have to see it, you can hear it in the curving lilt of his voice as he drinks in the sight of your very obvious indiscretion, laid bare before him. You can’t bring yourself to answer him—you can hardly look at him—and you bristle, hair on your arm prickling up.
“You fuck yourself speechless, little one?”
Your cunt throbs, burning and contracting around the orgasm that was snatched away from you and fuck, you’re drowning in him. Din is tar—he’s an oil slick, and you’re plummeting through it—gasping for air, for the surface, for sunlight. He’s everywhere—his broad frame, his voice, his scent like copper and smoke. You can barely breathe through the thick of him.
“Answer me,” he growls, leather croaking at the clench of his fist.
“Yes—yes,” you utter, proceeding with honesty, no matter how pathetic. “I missed you,” you squeak out.
Din cocks his head, a smug look scowled onto his visor. “You missed me?” he purrs through a sneer and you nod, precious and small, worrying the inside of your lip.
He sinks one leg and then the other onto your bedroll, just between your parted feet, kneeling before you. The flimsy spring mattress squeals under his weight—all of that armor, all of that boiling soot trapped within him.
“How much?”
For a moment, you must look confused. Puzzled. Your eyebrows furrow as Din unclips the saber from his belt, rolling it over in his hand. You rake your gaze up from it, dilated pupils landing on the unforgiving black panel there.
“You claim you missed me. Prove it.”
Your cunt bottoms out.
He crouches over you, tracing along your inner thighs with it's steel shaft and you bury your fists into the cot. You don't know which to look at: Din or the rod in his hand. “Tell me you want this. Tell me you trust me.”
Fuck, it feels like you’re going to rattle apart. There isn’t an inch of you that isn’t humming—isn’t seizing up wild. “I-I trust you,” you mouth softly. And you do, whether you should or not—you trust him with your life, to make or ruin.
“Fuck, you’re wet mesh'la,” he appraises darkly, leaning in to run a leathered digit through your seam, parting your curls. Your legs twitch, heels of your feet digging into the bed. “So ready for me. So eager."
Your eyes dance frenetically down to the handle and back up to him as he aligns the saber with your pussy. The blunt end of it touches your lips and you shudder, instinctually fidgeting away from it. Din splays his hand on your knee, anchoring you in place. “Shh,” he coos, rubbing a thumb soothingly into your skin. It doesn’t feel sweet. It feels sickly, cloying— like arsenic.
You don’t dare breathe as he prods the shaft into you, inch by terrible inch. It doesn’t matter how slicked and wet you are from touching yourself, your walls strangle the foreign intrusion. Your body resists.
“Fuck,” you sob. Your throat, your pussy, all of it— it’s all compacted. It feels so fucking tight, both words and air fighting to get out and in all at once—everything inside you constricting.
“Show me,” he grits through clenched teeth. “Show me how much you missed me.” He drags his gloved digit over your clit, pressing down onto it until you see stars, fizzing in front of your vision. “I know you can take it, sweet girl. Be good and show me.”
Be good. Be good for him. Be his only vice.
He continues to swirl at your bundle of nerves and you’re nearly thrashing with it— with all of this— hair fanned and mussed against the pillow as you writhe, swallowing his saber to the hilt. Fuck, you’re so full. Maker, you’re stuffed with it; with the cold, uneven edges, the ridges woven into the grip of it— and he slowly - tortuously - delves the handle in and out of you, hitting against your cervix with every thrust.
You can only mumble. Your lips have gone slack, your mind is cavernous. All you can do is quiver and beg— beg for release. Beg for it to end.
Beg for more.
“Oh gods, oh g- Maker, please—”
Your bleary eyes shoot open as you’re silenced by the grip of his gloved hand.
“No.” Din pinches your jaw in the web of his palm, fingertips dimpling your cheeks. “No, your God isn’t here,” he seethes, low and deadly, graphite venom dripping from his lips. “Pray to me.”
Fuck.
Trembling, your lips pucker ugly and sloppy as you babble uselessly in his stony grasp, chin crinkling with a whimper. “D-Din.”
He inhales sharply, mouth snaking into a wicked grin behind his helm. “That’s it. That’s my good girl.”
He’s deboning you as he would a fish. Practiced, he plucks you into messy pieces—gutting you through your open maw. His ministrations are crawled. They’re slothed and carnal with arrogance and pride and it’s not enough—its all together too much, but still—it’s not enough. You’re hungry. You paw at him, scraping over his breastplate.
“Din, please—more," you gasp feverishly, eyes blown wide.
A blip of static huffs through his modulator. “You want more, you filthy little thing?” He gives you another squeeze, indenting scorch marks into your face.
You nod—you try to, his grasp is too firm, rooting your neck to still. “Yes.”
Din groans, all but obliging you as he begins to fuck you harder, pistoning through you as he thumbs your nub with his rough pad.
“Din-”
You’re whining now, tinny and depraved. It’s wrong. Every part, every second of this, is wrong. Immoral. But you can’t stop the way your body convulses at his every touch—you can’t stop the heat roiling in your core.
“Din, Din baby- fuck fuck fuck-”
It’s like he’s trying to split you in two—all of you. Your pussy, your mind, your soul—he’s bisecting you. Divvying you up to bits of nothing. It’s only then that horrid realization occurs to you, winding through your addled haze as he fucks you deep and splintering: you’ll never be whole again.
And scarier still—you don’t think you want to be.
No, you want to be these loathsome shards. You want to be broken glass. You want to draw blood.
You want to be possessed by him.
“Fuck yourself,” he pants, his cock straining violently against his trousers, begging for relief. “Be good and fuck yourself. Let me watch.”
Be good be good be good
He leaves your clit and you whimper at the loss. Your face is stained with tears. The salty trails cascade down to mingle into your hair, into the sheets. You’re vibrating, but you do as he says and you reach down, recoiling when you touch the chilled metal tip. Tentatively, you pad along it, settling on the end that’s peeking out from you.
A pained sound rumbles through Din as you wrap your fist around the saber, and your eyes flit up to meet his, hidden somewhere behind his helm. Hurriedly he unbuttons his pants in a flourish and removes himself from his constraints. He’s pulsing and proud, flexing up against his stomach, the veins choked to bulge along the angry, silken shaft of him.
Finally, you begin to move the hilt—finding an aching, undulating rhythm and he can’t fucking take it. He rips his helmet off, letting it clatter to the floor.
“Din,” your pray, “Din, I think I’m going to-”
You’re wrecked – fried like a livewire– as you look for him, as you search and search—for that warmth, for a trace of him left there. The Din you knew, the Din you agreed to fly with all those months ago, the Din you love. You think you see it sometimes—in the slant of his mouth, the bridge of his nose— but here, now, he is gone.
He is a pit.
Din Djarin is a pit of a man, and you want nothing more than to fall. Standing on the ledge of him, staring down into the abyss—you want this. You want to fall. You want to jump.
“Tell me you’re mine. Tell me, sweet girl— tell me.” He’s fucking his fist raw, humping into his palm as desperate as an animal.
“I’m yours,” you mewl. Furiously rubbing your clit with one hand and spearing yourself on the rod of his saber with the other, your hips buck and spasm. You snap. A blinding light sears through you, ricocheting off every scrap of muscle and tendon sewed up in your body. “Just for you,” you cry, “I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours—”
Your ragged sobs mix with the lewd slaps of skin as Din pumps himself, hot ropes of his release spitting onto you— painting your pussy, the divot of your navel, coating along the slope of your tummy.
“Look at you—fucking, look at you,” he moans throatily, easing through his rough strokes as he softens.
Your chest is heaving and you feel dumb, empty—like a puppet, arms and legs moving on phantom strings. Din removes the handle from you with a wet squelch; a viscous strand of your juices clings on, obscenely connecting your pussy to the base of it, and you rasp—the wind punched out of you with its gaping absence. You gush. It dribbles out the slit of you, leaking past your abused hole and soaking into the bedroll.
When he unsheathed the saber from your scabbard, he took a part of you with it. You’re so fucked out—you’re practically a parsec away— it went unnoticed.
Undetected.
It brushed past you. You didn’t feel it—you didn’t recognize the whisper that has slithered in in it’s place, nestling within your swollen folds.
Breeding there.
“Beautiful,” Din murmurs, placing it on the mattress beside your head, the chrome of it gleaming with your slick. He bows his head to lick a path up your cunt, laving you clean as he climbs higher and higher, tonguing off his seed from your stippled skin. “Fucking beautiful, mesh’la,” he growls. “Mine—all fucking mine.”
You’ve gone heavy. You’re too heavy to keep your eyes open—you’ve been hollowed out and you’ve got nothing keeping you tethered here. You start slipping under in slow motion—intervals between languid blinks lasting longer and longer. You’re spooled in a knot of tangled limbs with Din’s mouth, fervent and needy, flaying you open as he sees fit— with his hot mouth and teeth, suckling your breasts, biting at your nipples and bruising your pretty neck.
It’s not long before you hear it again, as you have before— as you always do: the faint caressing of speech, of lips forming language you cannot understand—made indecipherable in your strung out high.
“D’you say something?” you mumble, half conscious—half dreaming.
Din laps a long stripe up your throat, his stubble sanding your skin. “No.”
You sigh, breathy and girlish, as his fingers find your mound, dipping into you once again. He makes you cum twice more that evening. You barely have the strength to watch him do it.
/
Finally, when he’s satisfied—when he’s spent with driving you mad, making you rile— he grants you respite. He permits it – generous, charitable - and you sleep like the dead, soundly through the night until—
until you don’t.
Eyes. You feel them somewhere— there are eyes on you. You stir, stuttering in your sleep to squirm in the dark. You don’t know what you’re listening to at first. It’s a sound of some kind, a noise. There is a hiss—
A frigid hand seizes around the bloody organ pulsing in your ribcage.
No, not a hiss—it’s a voice. It’s— no-
You pat around for Din beside you but he’s gone—he’s long gone and his vacant spot has grown cold without him—and your nails dig into the sheets, desperately clawing into the fabric.
Inside you.
The voice, the sharp hush of it—it’s inside you. It speaks from inside your own mind, its forked tongue fluttering against your ear.
‘Wake up, sweet girl.’
/
Tags (IM SO SORRY): @djarinsbeskar @pedros-mustache @krissology @keeper0fthestars @read-and-rec
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salty-sith-bitch · 4 years ago
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Hey, so I saw you needed some writing ideas. I was wondering if you would be ok writing a platonic Mando/Reader (the reader is like a teenager or young adult), where the reader gets anxious when Mando is gone for long periods of time hunting for bounties due to past trauma of their family leaving them (albeit not on purpose, they were taken away). And since they have to stay on the ship and take care of the child, they can’t go with him to make sure he’s alright. Just something I thought of.
This is very angsty I AM SO SORRY! I absolutely enjoyed writing this and it's probably one of my favorite pieces. 
The reader and Mando have a sweet platonic almost father/ child relationship in this.
Ni cuy' olar ad'ika (I am here Little one)
Wanings: Hurt/comfort, angst
Words: 1557
Ao3
"I'll be back," the Mandalorian said to you as he descended the ramp of the crest.
You nodded as you snuggled the child. Giving a soft coo the child looked up at you and moved his ears. Sighing you turned and entered the crest, heading off to make lunch.
***
You decided to eat lunch outside and enjoy the sunlight with the child while you could. It had been a while since your trio had inhabited a warm plant. The sun's rays kissing your skin left you feeling warm and hopeful. Hopeful for a better future and of not being alone again. 
It felt like home. The home you once knew for nearly 17 years where you had never felt alone or unloved. Where you had a garden and a family. Where cooking lessons from mother took place and sarcastic banter with your father. Where giggles from your brother bounced off the walls as he pulled your hair.
Eyes stinging and bottom lip quivering you looked down at the child as he brought his soup up to his mouth. Just like him, you had been alone until Mando found you. A child without parents or someone to take care of you. Lost and abandoned trying to find your place in the galaxy.
Before you met Mando you had been loved by your parents. They worked hard for you and your brother and made every moment worth living. Your home had been small and your parents would work until exhaustion overtook their bodies, leaving you to cook and look after your brother. You would tend to the garden and sew clothes for the family. Each day you would thank your mother for the skills she taught you and your father for his sense of humor and hard work. Your family was all you had known In life. It was all you needed. It was home. Where you felt safe and adored.
But everything changed when the troopers came. To this day you swear you can still smell the fires and feel your lungs ache as they tried to breathe anything besides ash. The fires and storm troopers engulfed your village, taking the children and killing off anyone who tried to stop them. 
Your parents had gone out earlier that day to the market and had never returned. They had taken your brother as you spent the day reading and basking in the sunlight in the garden. The first sound of blaster fire startled you, your muscles freezing as you pulled a vegetable from the soft soil beneath your feet. It was another couple of moments before the next round of blaster shots could be heard, this time closer.
When you could finally move again you looked off into the distance as the fires grew and smoke filled the sky. Panicking you ran inside and hid in the back of your parent’s closet. That was where your parents had told you to go if there was ever an invasion. They had created a room that was safe and where no one could find you. You waited and waited for your front door to be knocked down and for you're home to be stormed. No troopers ever came in search of you though. 
Neither had your parents.
You had spent days in and out of sleep not daring to leave the confined space of your hideout. On the third day, you had awoken to the noise of the front door opening and the shuffle of heavy footsteps. You waited a couple of minutes silently crying and praying to the maker that you wouldn't be found. Minutes turned into an hour, then two, then three, and eventually, night has fallen.
You knew whoever had intruded your home had not left yet and they didn't seem like they were in a hurry to. You waited until the early morning just before sunrise to try and sneak out from your hidden space and had almost made it to the front door when heard the click of a blaster and felt the barrel of it pressed into your back.
It was then that the Mandalorian and Grogu had found you, starving, dehydrated, and filthy. You broke down crying and begging for him to just kill you. You refused to be taken as anyone's slave, servant or turned into a soldier. 
Watching you shake and please for death Mando had gracefully holstered his blaster and instead comforted you, explaining he would not hurt you and that he could leave once the sun rose and his child woke. In response, you told him that you would instead go. This place was a house but no longer a home.
Putting the pieces together the Mandalorian sympathized with you and offered you a new beginning and what would eventually become your home. He expressed his concern about his son and needing someone to watch him while he went on missions. You considered and said you would think about it. Mando would be leaving later that night and told you that if you decided to join him to meet him at his ship just before sundown.
That evening Mando found you sitting outside of his ship with the few belongings you had and any produce that had not wilted from the ash and fires. The Mandalorian didn't say much or ask much of you and you quickly fell into a routine with him and the kid.
That had been nearly a year ago. You had been too old to be a foundling but too young to become a bounty hunter yourself so you stuck with watching the child much as you did now.
Looking down at the child again you saw his eyes begin to droop. Smiling weakly you packed up the remaining bits of lunch and scooped up the child.
"Naptime my friend."
Grogu cooed, nuzzling his head into your chest.
Making your way into the ship you shut the ramp and laid with the child on Din's cot until you both fell into a deep slumber.
***
Three days. It had been three days since Din left to go search for his bounty. You generally didn't worry but when his adventures hit the three-day mark anxiety started to kick in. You knew Din was capable of handling himself and would always comm you if there was trouble or if he needed you to fly the Crest to him. Despite knowing all of that you couldn't fight the bile that rose in your chest and the tunneling sensation of the world around you.
By sundown, on that night  you felt like a walking corpse. You hadn't eaten but still had to fight the urge to throw up or break down crying. Grogu had watched you in concern all day and had been extra cuddly and affectionate. He could sense your unease and see your fear through forced smiles and glossy eyes. 
Bedtime came early that night for the little womp rat. Trying to comfort you tuckered him out.
Having time to yourself is both a blessing and a curse. You could cry freely without being embarrassed and without tiring out the kid but it also reminded you that you were alone and what you had lost. It reminded you that it could happen again. That the family you now had could be torn apart just as easily as your last.
Sobbing, you sat in Din's chair in the cockpit wrapped in your favorite blanket from home. It still had the smell of your mother's perfume and your father's aftershave on it. Realizing one day that that too would fade and disappear you wept harder, letting out gasps of air as your lungs tried to replenish themselves. The material of the blanket caught the tears that rolled down your face and you wrapped it tightly around you in desperation to feel close to your family again. Eventually, your body gave up on supporting you and you fell out of the pilot's chair and laid on the cold metal ground. Eyes squeezed just hit salty tears continued to flow and splash onto the worn metal of the Crest. 
You don't know how long you were down there or how long you had been crying but you felt yourself being lifted and scooped into a hug. You wailed into Din's chest as he slowly rocked you.
"Ni cuy' olar ad'ika." His unmodulated voice rang through your ears and you felt his own tears fall down and into your hair.
You may have been too old to be a foundling when Din found you but he still adopted you as his own. He treated you as I'd you were his own child, laughing when you laughed, threatened to take away credits when you sassed him and cried when you cried.
He understood your pain and hurt and his chest tightened every time you shed a tear. He knew you longed for your parents as much as he longed for it. If there was a way he could bring your parents back he would. You would do the same for him if you could.
That was not a possibility though and you both knew it. Instead, the three of you made your own family. Your own clan.
This is the way.
Rocking together on the floor of the cockpit you both cried into the night.
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fandom-blackhole · 3 years ago
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Fanfiction Trope MASH-UP
Din Djarin
53. Mutual pining, 41. First kiss, 6. Bookshop AU 👀
Hope this is enough of a distraction! ❤
First of all, how dare you make me think of how cute this little AU is, because now I'm yearning for modern Din and Grogu! Second, yes darling, this is going to distract me all night lmao
53. Mutual pining
41. First kiss
6. Bookshop AU
Din Djarin x Reader
Owning your own little bookshop had its pros and cons. Some of the cons, to name a few, was worrying about making enough to keep the store open, dealing with angry people when you shop didn't carry the book they wanted, the building you were in was old and leaked every time it rained, and just the entire business side of the bookstore bored you and made your anxiety raise just thinking about it. But the pros, those more then made up for the stress of counting each penny in order to order stock. And those pros came in the form of your two favorite customers, a young boy, always dressed in the cutest green frog sweater and his father who took your breath the first time he walked into you small store. Din Djarin was handsome in a way that was devastating. Not only was he physically handsome, with brown eyes that screamed of kindness, broad shoulders and a narrow waist, hands big enough to dwarf any book in your store, and scruff that was so patchy you couldn't help but find it cute, but Din was also handsome in the way that he acted, the way he would gently talk to his son as they picked out books or as he sat in the reading nook and read to Grogu, the way he would always ask about your day, how when he saw you struggling with boxes on more than one occasion he had stepped in and moved them for you not letting you lift another box. Din was sweet and kind to you, and with every small smile he gave you, you thought your heart would burst from your chest. And his son, Grogu, was obviously in the best hands. The boy was just as polite as his father, and just as devastatingly cute. The young boy, who you always joked about being your best customer, always ran into the store with an excites wave and a smile, and almost always ran and gave you the biggest hug he could. On occasion, the little cutie would bring you a present to add to a shelf you had cleared just for him. The presents were what you'd expect a kid to give, a dandelion, a colorful leaf, a shiny rock, and once a piece of candy that Din explained he had cried over for days after seeing it before Din went and bought it for him. You cared deeply for the two, and they brightened your weeks with each visit they made.
One week, it had been raining and storming every single day with no reprieve. You had all but written off seeing the two, knowing they always walked to your shop, but there you were shocked when a tiny frog rainbooted blur came dashing towards you and wrapped your legs in a hug, quickly followed by a hushed stern voice saying, "Stop it kid, you're gonna get them all wet!"
You could only giggle and lean down to give him a proper hug, looking over towards Din, saying, "If getting wet is the price I pay for my favorite and best customer's hug, then I'll gladly take it."
Din only shook his head and gave you his small smile, making you bite the inside of your lip feeling the rush of warmth in your chest and face. The two then disappeared into the children's section, you occasionally hearing Grogu's giggle, or Din's quiet rumbling voice, making you grin as you walked around organizing shelves. Eventually, you got lost in thought, humming quietly to yourself as you worked. You hadn't noticed the set of eyes watching you, and you barely caught the throat being cleared before you bumped into what you could have almost mistaken for a bookshelf with how solid it was. When you turned to look up, eyes wide and already apologizing, you found Din's soft eyes looking at you. Din took no time brushing your apology to the side, before furrowed his brows and saying, "There is a bucket full of water in the middle of the children's section."
You sighed painfully and nodded, before turning back to your work to both somewhat distract yourself from the way his eyes were boring into you, and to keep you hands busy from nervous fidgeting, as you said, "Yeah...it leaks back there whenever it rains super hard. I just... I havent been able to get it fixed yet."
Then Din shocked you completely, he grabbed your hand, stilling it and making you look into those soulful eyes before whispering, "I can fix that."
You had tried to argue with him, telling him you'd get to it eventually and making up reason why he shouldn't, but each time he shot you down, until he was paying for the stack of books Grogu had grabbed and he had set up a weekend day he could come over to do the job.
When the weekend finally came around, it was hot and muggy from all of the rain, and Din had shown up with everything he needed, and Grogu, who you agreed to watch while he worked, the least you could do considering he was trying to work without payment. But Din had also shown up in a white t-shirt that hugged his chest and showed off his softer middle, and jeans that fit right in all of the right places, and you couldn't help but feel your mouth go dry. You had closed the store for the day, and had made a lunch for the three of you the night before, so while Din made quick work with the roof, you and Grogu played games and read books in the little reading nook. Eventually, he got hungry so you let him eat, and shortly after he dozed off looking through a hidden images book. With a smile, you tucked him gently into a more comfortable position and draped a soft quilt around his shoulder. When you turned around though your heart stopped and you felt heat rush to your face. While you had been distraction, Din had snuck into the store and watched with an aching heart as you took care of his son, falling for the soft and loving smile that graced your features as you did. When you turned around completely, you took in his form, and felt a pang of guilt with how red his face was from working in the sun, but also a pang of something else entirely as your eyes soaked in the way Din's sweat shirt clung to his chest, leaving nothing to your imagination and how his hair curled so perfectly from the dampness of sweat and the humidity.
"I finished," his soft rumble broke you from you ogling, and the heat in your face spread to your chest as you cleared your throat. "Come sit down then, I made food last night and I imagine you're hungry so eat, and I will go get you some ice water to cool off."
You rushed away, as Din checked on Grogu before settling on the floor, and reaching for the plate that was on the coffee table. You appeared seconds later, setting a glass in front of him, before sitting beside him, grabbing your own plate.
"Sorry it isn't anything fancy, but I thought that the ravioli would be something Grogu and you both may like."
"It is perfect, thank you."
The two of you ate in silence after that, both of you stealing glances at the other while they weren't looking. When you finished, you took the plates and set them aside before shyly saying, "Thank you again, Din. You have helped me so much with this favor, and if I can repay you in anyway just tell me."
"It was nothing, and you owe me nothing, I promise."
You looked over at him, a soft and kind smile showing on your face, "I feel bad not doing anything for you or paying you. There has to be something?"
Din was quiet for a few minutes, his eyes taking in your earnest and open body language, taking in how your own eyes danced around his form, and before he could think twice about it, he said, "There is one thing..."
"Anything, you only have to ask."
Din took in how perked up you were, leaning towards him in the small space that separated the two of you. Taking a deep breath for courage, Din leaned in himself, and whispered, hot breath ghosting over your face, "A kiss?"
You swallowed thickly in shock, and met his gaze, finding no teasing look, only want so soft you thought you'd melt, so you replied by softly nodding and slowly drifting your eyes shut. Then you felt it, a soft brush of plush lips against your own, before they connected fully. The kiss was quick, and loving, and you followed his lips as he pulled away. Slowly, you both looked at eachother, taking in the other's reaction, before reaching out again. You buried one of your hands in Din's sinfully soft curls, as one of his broad palms cupped your cheek. This kiss was more passionate, but not pushing. The two of you finally just enjoying the feel of the other. The kiss expressed so much love and passion that it had you addicted and never wanting to pull away. But eventually the two of you needed to leave the other for air, and as your chests both heaved slightly, Din whispered while his forehead pressed against yours, "I also wouldn't say no to a date."
Send Me Tropes
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stellarstarwarsimagines · 4 years ago
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Five Times Din Accidentally Turned You On
Pairing - Din Djarin x Reader
Summary - It’s embarrassing how a man whose face you have never seen is able to turn you on so quickly without even realizing it. 
Word Count - 3k
Warnings - brief description of an injury, but that’s it! 
When you had agreed to start working with the Mandalorian and met the little green menace, you knew that your life was going to be turned upside down into chaos. 
You had expected most of that chaos to come from the bugger, not from your apparent lack of control over your hormones. 
It was ridiculous. There was no way that you should be this attracted to a man whose face you had never seen. If your mother could see you right now, she would think that you were crazy. Of course, she thought you were crazy already for traveling with a Mandalorian around the Galaxy, but this would be a whole new level for her. 
Yet, here you stood, a little goblin attached at your hip, watching the tension rising with mounting anxiety. You clutched the kid closer to your side as Mando confronted the man, who you now knew wasn’t a Mandalorian, but a Marshal instead, asking him where he got his armor. 
“Bought it off some Jawas.” He answered, taking a sip of his spotchka. 
“Hand it over.” 
Maker he was so damn menacing when he was like this. Even without being able to see his face, you felt a shiver going down your spine from his tone. He was so intimidating; you didn’t see how anyone stood a chance. 
You also didn’t see how you continued to find it so kriffing attractive. 
“Look, pal, I’m sure you call the shots where you come from, but ‘round here, I’m the one tells folks what to do.” Vanth replied. 
“Take it off.” Mando said, stepping forward. “Or I will.” 
As soon as he said those words, all you could think about was him saying them in . . . another context. There was no way you could control your response. At least that’s what you tried to tell yourself after you let out the oddest little half squeak / half choked sound. You bit your lip as you watched everyone in the room, the bartender, Cobb Vanth, and even Mando’s helmet tilt in your direction. You even felt the little womp rat’s head turn towards you curiously. Which gave you the idea. “I - the kid - I’m gonna - while you two work this out.” You said, gesturing to him before hurrying outside. 
As soon as you stepped out of the bar, you took a deep breath, and then let out a loud groan of embarrassment. Looking down at the kid, he gave you a look that clearly said he was disgruntled at being blamed for a noise you made. 
“I’m sorry, buddy, sometimes your dad . . .” You were not about to tell this little guy how hot you thought his dad was. “You’ve got to take one for the team this time okay? I’ll get you cookies to make up for it later.” You added when he didn’t seem like he was pleased with that. 
At least bribery worked with him. 
____________________
For as long as you could remember, you loved flying. You didn’t know where it had come from, since your mom was scared of heights and you didn’t know anything about your father other than he had been a farmer, but from the moment that you looked up into the sky and saw a ship soaring overhead, you had loved it. Getting the chance to live on a ship and see the galaxy that way was another reason you had said yes to Mando when he asked. 
Flying on a ship with a Mandalorian Bounty Hunter was nothing like you expected though. 
Your eyes drifted back and forth from the sky to Mando, too captivated by the sight in front of you to be scared. Tie fighters were shooting at you from what seemed like every direction, but you couldn’t bring yourself to be worried. Mando would take care of you. He always did. 
You glanced over at the child who was buckled up in a seat next to you, his little green hands in the air as he cooed and giggled in excitement. Despite the situation, you couldn’t help but grin at the sight. 
“Hang on,” Mando said to the two of you, and your arm reached out to the kid, close enough to where you could grab him if he went flying. You held your breath as the Crest began to fall for a moment until Mando engaged it once more, spinning it in circles to avoid the tie fighter’s blasts. The Child’s laughter became louder in your ears as you grabbed a hold of his clothes, but your eyes were glued to the sight in front of you, adrenaline pounding in your veins as you came closer and closer - 
Then he blasted it out of the sky, as you knew he would. 
You let out a cheer, echoed by the gremlin next to you, and leaned forward, finding a bit of Mando’s arm that wasn’t covered in armor and giving it a squeeze. “That was amazing! I’ll never understand how you can do that so easily.” You told him, your voice as breathless as if you had been the one flying. 
“Wasn’t going to let anything happen to you.” He said, and by the way his muscles tensed under your hand, you got the feeling he hadn’t meant to say that. 
It was no secret that Mando was protective of you. He had been from the start, but hearing him say it like that? Almost . . . possessive? Maker, the way it made you feel. You opened your mouth. You weren’t sure what you were going to say, but before you could, he interrupted you. “And the kid of course. Not too bad, huh kid?” He asked, looking at him over his shoulder. 
The little womp rat gagged, expelling the remains of his blue cookies. 
____________________
All of this was way out of your league, that was obvious enough. The Jedi, the Force, all of those things had been over your head from the start. They had been legends for so long, it was hard to believe that the little green gremlin you had been looking after, Grogu, you corrected yourself, was one of them. 
You watched as the Jedi, Ahsoka Tano, beckoned Din over to her, deciding to use Din to get Grogu to show his powers. The bond the two of them shared had grown even more so over the past couple of months, and you had to admit, if anyone could get Grogu to use his powers, it would be Din. 
Sure enough, after some coddling, Grogu made his favorite little silver ball fly from Din’s fingers to his hand. The smile on your face widened as Din spoke. “Good job! Good job, kid!” He exclaimed, stepping towards him. “You see that?” He asked you and Ahsoka without waiting for an answer. He stopped in front of him, bending down to his level, “that’s right. I knew you could do it.” He took the silver ball from him, “Very good.” 
Warmth filled your chest at the proud tone in his voice. The way that he interacted with Grogu was one of the cutest things that you had ever seen. While he wasn’t the kid’s biological father, you knew that he was close enough. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how great he would be with his own kids, if he decided to have them one day. 
. . . maybe with you. 
The intrusive thought had the heat rushing to your face, and you cleared your throat as if it would help get the images out of your mind. 
“Are you all right?” Ahsoka asked from next to you. 
You nodded, but from the smirk on her lips, you got the feeling that her and her Jedi mind tricks knew exactly why you had gone into a coughing fit. 
____________________
“You’re getting better.” 
The words should have been a comfort to you. Din had been teaching you fighting techniques for months, but now that the kid - Grogu, had been taken, you were practicing with renewed vigor as you all geared up for a mission to find Moff Gideon’s coordinates. You knew that you were getting better, and Din didn’t say anything he didn’t mean, but you knew it wasn’t enough. “I can’t get the kick.” You mumbled, brushing some of your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 
He nodded, and your heart rate kicked up even more as he moved around behind you. He was so close you could hear every slide of that beskar as it moved with him. “You need to widen your stance.” He gave a gentle kick to your left foot, and you obediently spread your leg further apart. “Adjust your hips like this . . .” The cool leather of his gloves landed on your hips, moving them into position. “Now find your center of gravity.” He added, his voice even lower than normal. 
It turned your brain to mush. How the hell were you supposed to concentrate like this? The man you desired more than anything was so close to you that you could feel every exhale of that beskar chest piece against your back, hear every breath as it exited his helmet. 
“You can do it.” Din said, his hands giving your hips a little squeeze. 
You remembered him saying those words. To a little green goblin that had stolen your heart. A child you were determined to get back. The thought managed to snap you back into focus, and with a deep breath you executed the move to perfection. 
Well, sorta. 
Din caught you as you stumbled back from the momentum, his fast reflexes allowing him to wrap his arm around your waist and catch your back against his hard chest with a soft chuckle. The sound, so rarely heard, made your stomach swirl with butterflies. “Good girl. Just have to work on your balance.” 
Good girl? Good girl? Dank farrik was he trying to kill you? You stumbled out of his arms, heat rushing to your face. “I’ve got to - I can’t - I’ve got to go.” You couldn’t be around him for a second longer or you were pretty sure you’d lose your mind and do something stupid like beg him to call you that again. Preferably with no clothes on. 
Even if you couldn’t see his face, you could tell by the tilt of his helmet in your direction that he was confused. 
You didn’t stick around long enough to give him the chance to ask any questions. 
____________________
Everything had happened so quickly it turned into a blur in your mind. Storming the ship, getting shot by a blaster and having to be dragged by Fennic and Bo-Katan onto the bridge while you tried not to scream at the pain in your thigh, Din arriving with Grogu and the dark saber in his hands, and Moff Gideon in his custody. Then there was the DarkTroopers arriving and subsequently being destroyed by a Jedi. 
And as soon as you had gotten Grogu back . . . he was gone again. 
You didn’t look when Din took his helmet off. Your eyes stayed glued to Grogu as soon as you had seen his hands move to the helmet. It seemed . . . disrespectful to look. This moment was for the two of them, no one else. When Grogu was gone, the helmet went back on, and without anything to distract you from the pain anymore, you let out a whimper. 
 Din rushed to your side at once, and you thought he might have been grateful for something to focus on other than your little family of three now becoming one of two. He lifted you into his arms without a second thought, and after some directions from Bo-Katan, carried you to a small medbay where he got to work on your wound. 
Watching him was a nice distraction as he ripped open the leg of your pants until he could see all of the wound. The display was already stirring something inside of you, and it escalated as he took his gloves off and touched you for the first time with his bare hands. 
They were large, but of course you already knew that. The gentleness they touched you with though . . . it was a sharp contrast to the way he had ripped your pants. He touched you as if he wasn’t worthy to be touching you. Hesitant and soft, every movement of his fingers slow and careful as if you were going to be scared away. When he pressed against the edge of your wound, the whimper that left your lips wasn’t only because of the pain. 
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice rough through his helmet as he grabbed ahold of some bacta spray from a table nearby. While the bacta helped the pain, it didn’t help your racing heart. 
It was embarrassing. More so than it had ever been, that you couldn’t get your feelings under control. Surely he had to notice. The amount of times you had done something stupid because you had taken what he said the wrong way or touched you was numerous. How could he not know? Had he been humoring you because you were good with the kid? 
And now that Grogu was gone, did he even want you around anymore? 
The sudden thought made you tense because while it had come out of nowhere, it could be true. Yes, you could do some simple repairs and cook, but your main job had been watching after Grogu. He didn’t need that now. He had survived fine by himself before you got there, what’s to say he wouldn’t want to go back to that? He’d never given you any indication that he didn’t. Was this the last time the two of you would be together? 
Attentive as always, he noticed the shift in your mood at once. He spoke your name, soft and almost melodic. “What are you thinking about?” 
Of course the one time you most needed to lie to him, you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Not after what had happened. “Do you want me to go?” You whispered, looking down at the ground. You couldn’t stand to see what his expression might be.
There was a moment’s pause that made your heartbeat pick up, and for the first time around Din, not in a good way. “What?” He asked, his voice sounding a little strangled. 
As was your normal response when you got nervous, you started babbling. “I know I mostly looked after the kid. I’m not a fighter . . . I’m not a Mandalorian . . . I’m a nuisance and another mouth to feed. If you want me to go, I can go.” Would it break your heart? Absolutely, but you never wanted to be somewhere you weren’t wanted. 
“Stop,” was all he said, so quiet you almost didn’t hear him. 
But you continued, unable to keep the words from leaving your mouth. “Bo-Katan or Fett can drop me off at the nearest planet, and you won’t -”
There was a loud clunk as a helmet of beskar hit the floor. You jumped, the sound startling you and you watched as it rolled a bit, stopping a couple of feet away. “Look at me.” 
It was the second time you had heard his voice without the helmet, but it struck you harder this time. Maker it was beautiful. Gruff and low, yet somehow he was so . . . soft spoken as well. As if he wasn’t sure how to talk without his helmet, and you guessed he probably wasn’t. You wanted to do what he asked. You wanted to know what he looked like, but it still felt so private . . . 
He said your name again, and you almost started crying at how tenderly he spoke it. His hand found your chin, tilting it up to reveal his facial hair covered jaw, his pale, pink lips, and pointed nose, all the way to the most beautiful, most expressive brown eyes you had ever seen. 
Din Djarin was in fact, every bit as handsome as you imagined him to be, which made your next words so much harder for you to say. “I have feelings for you.” You gasped out. “Strong - really strong ones, and they’re not going to go away. So if you can’t deal with that I need to -”
His hands cupped your cheeks and all of the sudden, Din was leaning closer. So close that your breath mingled with his and everything around the two of you seemed to vanish. There was nothing else that mattered except this moment. You expected him to say something, anything that would cut this tension that hung in the air, but he didn’t. 
Instead he closed the small distance between the two of you and kissed you. 
It was soft. Oh, so much softer than you ever expected him to be capable of doing. Then you realized how stupid that was of you to think, because Din had never been anything but soft with the people that he cared about. 
For a moment you didn’t move, still surprised that he was kissing you, but then you couldn’t hold back. Your lips moved against his, as lightly as his were moving against yours. Your fingers were itching to touch him, to tangle in those messy brown waves, but you were afraid to scare him off. So they hung by your side at a safe distance while Din continued to kiss you and make sure that you never wanted to kiss anyone else ever again. 
After what seemed like hours, and you wouldn’t complain if it had been, he pulled back, but not far enough to put any real distance between the two of you, instead pressing his forehead against your own. “Just because I gave up the kid, doesn’t mean I want to give you up too.” You let out a soft sigh as his lips left gentle kisses across your jaw and cheek. “Stay with me. Stay cyar’ika.” He whispered against your skin. 
As if anything could pull you away now.
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