#look after your tiny son din

[azertyrobaz]

Grogu’s point of view

[fanfreakinfiction]

My Gods Are Not Kind to Lonely Mothers

Chapter 1: Don’t Cry

Ch. 2 | Masterlist 🖤

14K words // Din Djarin x Pregnantf!reader

Pairing: Din Djarin x pregnantf!reader (Reader is younger but not weirdly young) Reader was a sex worker. Reader’s first language is one I made up she speaks pretty good basic but struggles to find certain words. The reader is pregnant!

Tags: SMUT virginity loss, con-non-con, made-up Star Wars culture & religion, split POV, slight language barrier, mention of death, mention of child death, dark!, 18+ DNI.

Warnings: Child loss, Pregnancy, Birthing, Blood, Death?, explicit mention of child loss and grief, guys this is dark.

A/N: I got this idea as I was dying in the shower from period cramps & also from a bot I used to use on Janitor AI before it was privated (RIP Din Bot). For logistics, we will just pretend that the Razor Crest didn’t get absolutely obliterated. For timeline reference, this takes place after season 3. Im convinced Din & Grogu are gonna have fun son/dad bounty-hunting adventures as Din teaches Grogu how to be a Mandalorian. Slight flashback in the middle of how reader and Mando met. Grogu has been working on his force flips lmao. I imagine the reader having an accent kind of like Gal Gadot, idk just roll with it. Also, I am so sorry if you cry reading this, I know I did writing it.

His hands ghosted over the silky skin of her back as he watched himself disappear and reappear from her stretched cunt. Slick mixed with blood pooled at the base of his cock in a ring, and the sound of her whimpers reached his ears through the thick metal of his helmet. The feeling of her tightness was so inviting, so hypnotizing, he felt possessed. He didn’t even mean to finish inside of her, he’d have to pay extra for that. 

From the incense heavy room he found himself standing at the edge of an enigmatic forest, encircled by black rock. An ethereal silence enveloped the scene, leaving him with an eerie sense of detachment.

His eyes shifted as he looked up on a pool of steaming water, obscured by the thick veil of steam, he saw her. The woman he’d been with on Tattooine so long ago. She struggled, her words lost in the hissing steam as her trembling hand gently grazed her belly. And there, in the midst of the dream's uncertainty, he witnessed the miracle of life itself—a whisper of cells coalescing into a fragile existence, pulsating with an otherworldly vitality.

Yet, the serenity was short-lived. The gentle whisper transformed into a nightmarish wail—a blood-curdling scream that tore through the tranquility of the woods. It was a scream of agony, of despair, and it emanated from her trembling lips. Her lips, soft and inviting, the same ones he'd yearned to kiss that night when he had ventured into the pleasure house.

The piercing screams grew louder, echoing through the dream, a symphony of suffering that filled the air with torment. As he watched her agony unfold, he was jolted awake, his head colliding with the unforgiving overhead storage. The sudden transition from the surreal to reality left him momentarily disoriented.

In the dimly lit living quarters of the Crest, Grogu, the young green child who had become an unexpected but cherished presence in his life, cried out from his sling, hanging above Din's bunk.

With a heavy sigh, the sound reverberating through the vocoder in his helmet, Din rose to his feet. The aging joints in his knees protested as he reached out to comfort the child, his gloved hands gently lifting Grogu from the nest of makeshift fabric.

"I know," Din murmured softly, his voice a quiet rumble as he cradled the child in his arms. "You saw it too, didn't you, kid?" Grogu, with his large, expressive eyes, gazed up at Din with a mournful look and reached out, tiny green fingers brushing against the Mandalorian's helmet. 

After the tumultuous events that had reshaped his life, Din Djarin had never allowed your memory to occupy his thoughts. Amidst the whirlwind of reuniting with Grogu, aiding Boba Fett, and playing a pivotal role in the reclamation of Mandalore, you had become little more than a faint blip on his radar—a passing connection that had provided a brief interlude of solace in the midst of his relentless journey.

But now, as he cradled Grogu in his arms, looking into the innocent, sorrowful eyes of the young child, he couldn't deny the awakening of something deeper within him. It was a sensation that transcended the confines of his dreams, a connection he felt as profoundly as the vivid dreamscape that had woven itself into his consciousness.

The realization slowly dawned upon him: you were more than just a fleeting memory. You were an integral part of the enigmatic tapestry of his life, and the threads of fate had woven your presence into his destiny in a way he had never expected.

Breaking free from his reverie, Grogu's tiny green form squirmed wildly in Din's arms, his latent Force abilities propelling him away from the Mandalorian's grasp. With agile grace, he leaped and bounced his way through the ship's cramped quarters, a small but energetic whirlwind of curiosity. Din could barely react before Grogu vaulted into the cockpit. 

Din's boots thudded on the ladder's metal rungs as he followed the young one up into the cockpit. A chorus of wild babbling reached his ears, punctuated by the frenzied pressing of buttons on the navicomputer.

"Don't touch that!" Din exclaimed, a hint of exasperation in his voice, his heart racing as Grogu's tiny hand hovered perilously close to the power reset button. He couldn't help but be wary of the mischief the child could unleash.

The young one looked up at Din with eager eyes, babbled something incomprehensible, and tentatively touched the screen. Din cocked his head, his tinted visor reflecting his curiosity. With a resigned sigh, he walked over to the console and entered a code to initialize the navigation system. "Is this what you want?" Din asked, studying Grogu.

In response, Grogu emitted a single, distinct "Patu" sound, his tiny fingers now reaching for the code panel. Hesitating only momentarily, Din bent down, lifting the child to eye level with the buttons. Grogu began to press a sequence of buttons, his small, green hands navigating the controls with surprising precision. Din's eyes widened slightly, his thoughts racing.

"You know where she is?" his voice came out raspy. Grogu completed the sequence, and his innocent gaze met Din's as the navicomputer diligently calculated the numerical sequence. After a few moments, a series of beeps indicated the successful completion of the calculations. Din turned to read the result, the Aurebesh characters on the screen spelling out "Kith."

"It's in the Baxel Sector of the Outer Rim," Din murmured, his voice tinged with a mix of anticipation and uncertainty, as he looked down at the child now resting contentedly in his lap. Grogu gazed up at him, then shifted his gaze to the navicomputer.

With a reluctant sigh, Din pressed a sequence of buttons to engage the hyperdrive. Whether he liked it or not, the path ahead was clear. He had to check on you. As the ship surged into hyperspace, a nagging voice in the back of his mind whispered that this journey was far from ordinary.

—

The path up to the Mountain of Mothers was a grueling journey, especially with your feet swollen and aching. It wasn't just a hike; it was a trial, a test of endurance to prove the worthiness of those seeking parenthood. The heavy pack you carried pressed on your lower back, making each step a test of your will. Normally, the pack was shared by the "Irrit" or father, but "Illa-ishi" or lonely mothers like you were compelled to carry it alone. The remnants of those who hadn't made it to the Mountain of Mothers were marked by the skeletons you passed on the way up.

The lower pool of the mountain lay two days away, and the upper pool required an additional five days of journey. Yet, something in your heart told you that this child would be with you in two days. As you followed the ascending trail, you crossed paths with an "Illa" or mother, accompanied by her Irrit. He bore their pack with pride, walking just behind her. It was a sight that warmed your heart, a testament to the culture you held dear.

"Noona" or baby was the foundation of your beliefs, the embodiment of the life you and your "Manna" or partner created together. Reaching the Mountain of Mothers and returning with a child was the highest honor, a symbol of worthiness.

The Illa halted on her descent and, with an air of pride, revealed her noona, wrapped in the family cloth. "Noona asa illa-ini!" (it’s a girl) she declared with joy, unveiling a beautiful baby girl. You couldn't help but smile down at the tiny noona and the Illa who showed her off with such pride.

“Noona asa mala ta Illa a Irrit,” (baby is worthy of her mother and father) you responded with the customary blessing, bowing your head in reverence. The mother and father returned the bow, acknowledging the blessing. However, the mother's eyes soon drifted to your belly and the heavy pack that weighed you down.

“Asa Illa-ishi?” she asked softly, her face clouding with sadness. (Are you a lonely mother?)

Summoning all your strength, you fought back the tears that threatened to well up. With your head held high and a tender hand resting on your belly, you spoke resolutely, "A illa-ishi."

I am a lonely mother.

—

The journey through hyperspace had indeed stretched far longer than Din had anticipated. A full day had elapsed since that haunting dream, leaving him with the unsettling sensation of being trapped in some unseen, cosmic rotation of time. However, that ceaseless ticking eventually brought them to the end of their journey as the ship dropped out of hyperspace in front of a smaller, mysterious planet, its surface adorned with sprawling waters and lush forests. As he guided the ship into the planet's atmosphere, the Mandalorian noticed a stark absence of the usual signs of civilization—no traffic control, no spaceports, not even a refueling station. The setting felt eerily reminiscent of the world of Sorgan.

Din hovered uncertainly in the atmosphere, his mind racing. Grogu, seated in the co-pilot's chair, played with the mythasaur skull around his neck, seemingly unfazed by the situation. As Din stared at the green child, he let out a sigh and rested his head against the back of his chair.

"Now what…?" Din muttered to himself, his voice carrying the weight of uncertainty. Closing his eyes, he tried to recall the details of the dream, seeking any hint or clue that could guide their search.

In his mind's eye, he saw you, your form shrouded in mist and glistening with sweat. The dress you wore clung to your figure, the fabric a soft white-grey that accentuated your curves as you breathed heavily. His brow furrowed in concentration. There was water, almost like a waterfall, surrounding you, with black jagged rocks supporting your form. Your feet were immersed in milky water, reminiscent of a hot spring.

Din's eyes snapped open. A hot spring. It wasn't much to go on, especially for a planet that could potentially be dotted with such natural wonders, but it was a lead worth pursuing. His hands sprung into action, deftly pressing a sequence of buttons that initiated a signal, a ping to any electronic communication device on the planet's surface.

Grogu's focus shifted from the mythasaur skull to the Mandalorian, the child's curious gaze following Din's swift movements. Din soon located the nearest signal on the planet's surface, and as he brought the Razor Crest lower, he was struck by the intensity of the landscape. Towering thick trees covered nearly every inch of land, a vast, unspoiled wilderness that stretched out as far as the eye could see. The planet's terrain was marked by colossal mountains that sliced through the canopy of green like serpents in water, their peaks jutting out in sporadic bursts.

It was a breathtaking and untamed landscape, like nothing Din had ever witnessed. His gaze scanned the vast expanse below, tracking the signal as he searched for a suitable place to land the Crest. Finally, he spotted it—an elevated landing pad erected above the treetops. It seemed to be a small station, but it was a potential refuge for refueling and gathering information, a step closer to finding you

"K1 to RC 4577, you are clear to land at dock 7," a thickly accented voice echoed through the Razor Crest's comms system, providing the coordinates for their landing.

"RC 4577 to K1, recieved," Din responded, his gaze shifting to meet Grogu's eyes. The Mandalorian leaned over to offer a piece of advice to the child, "Always be kind when you land; most landing bay employees often know the most information." Grogu looked at Din, his large eyes brimming with understanding, and he babbled something that Din accepted as an acknowledgment.

With precision, Din guided the Razor Crest toward its designated dock and gently brought the ship to the surface. As he withdrew his hand from the control lever, he noticed a subtle tremor in his own fingers. It had been a long time since he had felt such a physical manifestation of emotion, not since he had lost Grogu to Moff Gideon.

In response to the tremor, Grogu cooed softly and reached out for his protector. Din's gaze locked onto the child, his trembling hands cautiously reaching out to embrace him. Grogu instinctively placed his tiny hands on either side of Din's helmet, offering comfort and connection. A sense of relief washed over the Mandalorian, and he exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The small hands on his helmet made a soft "plink" sound that resonated through his interior comms.

"Thanks, kid," Din murmured, his voice laden with gratitude, but his words unable to fully convey the depth of his feelings.

Exiting the ship, Din carried Grogu in his sling, the child's presence providing a grounding force amidst the uncertainty that lay ahead. A young mechanic in worn-overalls approached, his basic broken but comprehensible. "Need refuel?" he asked, to which Din nodded in acknowledgment. The mechanic, unfazed by the Mandalorian's helmet, started toward the fuel hose.

"Hot springs?" Din inquired, his voice barely audible above the wind that whipped violently across the landing pad. The mechanic turned, his eyes reflecting confusion, but Din simply nodded and reached for his credits, preparing to tip the young man for his services. Glancing around the landing pad, he spotted a few other ships—a transport vessel and two cargo ships.

The pad itself had clearly seen better days, and the gusts of wind whipped violently across its aged metal surface, causing a tumultuous symphony of sound. At the front of the landing pad stood a small rectangular building, featuring one set of large bay doors. It seemed to be the station's main structure. Adjusting Grogu in his sling, Din began to make his way toward it, his steps determined.

The small building served as a cover for various ships, a mix of those dusted and covered with the weight of time, and others gleaming with newness. Inside, a modest diner and café shop hummed with activity, a few patrons engaged in quiet conversations. At the front, an older man sat at a makeshift desk, engrossed in the workings of a peculiar-looking computer. As Din approached, the man stood abruptly, his enthusiasm palpable.

"Hello, traveler! Welcome to Kith!" he greeted with a giant smile. "I am Don Mai, the residing Mayor. We are humbled by the presence of a great warrior such as yourself!" With a reverence that bordered on adoration, the old man bowed deeply.

Din suppressed the urge to laugh, already forming an opinion of the enthusiastic mayor that he made a mental note to tell Bo Katan about later. Before Din could utter a word, Don Mai thrust a paper pamphlet into his hands, his speech transitioning into a rehearsed spiel about Kith's culture and history. 

"Kith has a rich culture and even more intense history! Women from all over the galaxy come to experience the Mountain of Mothers and—"

“The Mountain of Mothers?" Din interjected, his tone cutting through the mayor's ramblings.

Don Mai's eyes widened slightly, and he cleared his throat. "Well, the Mountain of Mothers has been around since the dawn of life on our humble planet, and its springs offer—"

"Hot springs?" Din interrupted again, his focus unwavering.

"Uh, well, yes, you see, the springs offer—" Don Mai began once more, but Din's impatience grew apparent.

"Where?" Din's voice was firm, demanding answers without the unnecessary embellishments.

Don Mai huffed, "The Mountain of Mothers is the largest mountain range on Kith. You should've seen it from your ship. If you take the elevator down to the planet’s surface, there is a speeder rental that can take you to the base of the range," the old man explained, his tone slightly deflated by Din's lack of interest in his detailed lecture.

Din places the paper pamphlet in a storage pocket on his bandolier as Grogu watches closely. 

“And the elevator?” Din asks not looking away from the old man. 

"To the left of the fuel pump on the landing pad. Just remember to pay your respects to the Gods as you visit the—"

The old man's voice dwindled into the background as Din walked away from the building and back onto the landing pad. He made his way to the fuel pump and, as instructed, looked to the left to find a rickety-looking elevator, seemingly manually operated. The metal showed signs of rust in various spots, and the wire pulley appeared to be in need of greasing. The flooring of the elevator was a grate that revealed the ground thousands of feet below. Grogu emitted a series of frightened squeaks and coos as Din hesitantly stepped onto the grating.

"I know, kid… let's just... get down there," Din muttered through gritted teeth, steeling himself for the precarious descent.

Din's hand gripped the elevator crank tightly, his patience stretched thin as he began the painstakingly slow descent. Halfway through, he had to switch arms, the anger at the archaic contraption bubbling beneath his calm exterior. It was unusual for him to get frustrated with inanimate objects, but this elevator was testing his resolve. After what felt like an eternity, the elevator reached the bottom of the landing pad. With a forceful yank, Din opened the rusted gate, stepping onto soil that felt surprisingly soft underfoot, reminiscent of the sands on Tatooine, albeit less yielding.

The area below was like a forgotten tourist hub, the shops standing silent and forlorn, each manned by a lone shopkeeper who stared into the emptiness, boredom etched across their faces. It was a desolate sight, a place trying to be lively without the visitors to make it so.

Walking further, Din noticed a row of rusted speeder bikes, the rentals. His heavy boots left imprints on the sponge-like earth as he approached. A few of the shopkeepers stirred from their boredom at the sight of the silver-clad Mandalorian passing by.

Reaching the speeder rental, Din was met by an old Aqualish man, the grey of the hair surrounding his face telling tales of years of service.

"How much?" Din asked, his voice reflecting his growing impatience.

"Fifty credits," the Aqualish garbled back.

"Thirty-five," Din countered, his tone firm as he shifted his weight to one side. Grogu cooed softly from his sling, his wide eyes observing the bartering process.

The Aqualish nodded in agreement and walked away to retrieve the speeder keys. 

As Din adjusted Grogu in the sling to access his credits, he caught sight of a couple approaching from the earthen road. The man carried a hefty pack on his back, and the woman cradled a baby in her arms. The pride in the man's eyes was evident as he helped his wife walk toward the shops.

"Noona asa mala ta Illa a Irrit!" the shopkeeper, an elderly woman across the street, shouted at them. The couple bowed softly in acknowledgment as they continued walking. Every shop they passed echoed the same foreign phrase, and Din watched with curiosity. Upon reaching the elevator, the man removed his pack, fashioning a makeshift seat for his wife as he started cranking the elevator back up to the top of the landing pad.

The sound of a throat clearing broke Din's concentration. The Aqualish man stood, hand outstretched, waiting expectantly for the payment. Din sighed inwardly, realizing he had been lost in his thoughts. He paid the credits and received the keys to the rusted speeder. Adjusting Grogu in the sling, ensuring the child was safely nestled in his lap, Din ignited the speeder and set off down the only trail leading out of the market.

The only path to the Mountain of Mothers.

— 

The pain in your swollen belly intensified as you stood at the base of the last incline leading to the lower pool. The journey had taken a heavy toll on your body, leaving you exhausted and in constant discomfort. Your feet were swollen, your hips ached, and everything hurt, but the cramping in your abdomen was what worried you most. The night before, you had barely managed to rest, opting to lie on the soft ground without bothering with your bedroll. Restlessness had plagued you throughout the night, and now the cramping made it clear that your time was approaching.

Today would be your last day on this arduous journey. The lower pool was just above you, but the pain in your body seemed unbearable. You knew it was all part of the gods' plan for you, but you never expected the pain to be this intense.

As you struggled up the final incline, a sharp pain ripped through you, and you stumbled. Your pack felt impossibly heavy, and your breaths came short. Beads of sweat formed on your brow as a wall of rock loomed ahead of you. 

"Itta non a dashi," (I will not die here) you whispered defiantly, mustering the strength from the deepest part of your being. As your emotions surged, you felt the baby shift within you. With renewed determination, you regained your balance, placing a loving hand on your swollen belly. 

The next incline lay ahead, one of the most challenging parts of the journey. You could see evidence of past mothers who had slipped or stopped, their bones scattered in the crevices of the rock. For Illa-ishi, like yourself, the task was solitary, without the help of an Irrit to assist with the ascent.

You stood at the base of the rocky cliff, gazing up at the tantalizing promise of the lower pool. The rhythmic thunder of the waterfall beyond the peak urged you forward, swirls of steam rose into the air, a tantalizing promise of the lower pool just a short climb away.

Thankfully, the rugged rock face bore shelves that made the treacherous climb more bearable. Growing up you heard tales of a time a century past when an Irrit, a kind-hearted soul whose manna, a young woman, could not walk. In a display of unwavering determination and love, he took chisel and hammer in hand, carving these sturdy, stone steps into existence. With these ledges, he could secure her safely to his back and ascend the daunting precipice so she could birth their child.

Taking a moment to catch your breath, you surveyed the ascent before you. The harsh sun beat down, casting long shadows across the rocky surface. Determination burned in your eyes as you figured out the best plan of action. With a surge of resolve, you slipped the heavy pack from your sweat-covered body, feeling an immediate relief as the oppressive weight fell off you and onto the gritty dirt below.

With your pack discarded, you dragged it to the base of the wall where the first of the man-made shelves jutted out, a mere foot of space cut into the unforgiving rock face. Despite the fatigue gnawing at your muscles, you carefully planted your foot on the ledge, finding just enough space to stand. Bending down carefully you pulled the pack onto the ledge beside your feet. Your birthing gown, gauzy and light, provided a surprising ease of movement. Once you’d made sure the pack was secure you looked up and examined the next shelf. It was a little high of a stretch but you gripped the wall above to steady yourself, your gown billowing slightly with the effort.

Your hips protested with each movement, but the primal instinct to survive drowned out the pain. With staggering determination, you raised your leg, using the hold of the wall to leverage yourself onto the rock shelf to the left. Your arms, weary but unyielding, lifted your body until you were safely on the shelf.

Taking a moment to collect yourself, you glanced back down at the last shelf, now below you. Gathering remnants of your strength, you reached down, hands trembling slightly, and lifted your pack with both arms onto the shelf beside you. Only one more shelf remained, higher up and to your right, a final obstacle before hauling yourself onto the top of the cliff. 

After a short rest, you locked eyes with the next shelf, determination burning in your gaze. With a swift motion, you reached up for a gap in the wall to get a grip. Sliding your right hand into the sharp crevice, you pulled with all your might, grunting with effort as you lifted your right leg onto the shelf, which was higher than the last. But in that moment of triumph, a sudden jolt of pain radiated from your lower back all the way to your fingertips, and you lost your hold, a gasp ripping through you.

Stumbling backward, you were saved only by your pack, which you used for leverage to steady yourself. The contraction was fierce, so intense that it was only when you absentmindedly touched the dress covering your belly that you realized you'd sliced your palm on the unforgiving rock. Scarlet red stained your gown, creating an almost perfect handprint. Oddly, you felt no pain in your hand, your senses consumed by the tightening in your abdomen, which worsened with every passing moment.

“Issa non a tishi noona..” (its not time yet baby) you groaned out in pain, your voice strained and breathless. Your eyes clenched shut as you tried to endure the relentless waves of agony.

You stood trembling on the shelf of the wall for a good minute or two before the contraction finally subsided, leaving you panting and exhausted. It was then that the sharp sting in your hand dominated your senses. You examined your hand, the crevice in the wall had sliced deep, and you could see the gash, making your stomach turn uneasily.

Reaching into your pack, you found the medipack, fingers trembling as you carefully opened it to retrieve the gauze and a bacta spray. With great care, you held your injured hand out in front of you and applied the bacta spray to the gash, wincing at the initial sting. Then, you gently wrapped the gauze around the wound, ensuring it was secure. The sharp pain began to dull as your trembling hand capped the spray, carefully returning it to the medipack. 

With a sigh, you straightened up, taking a moment to regain your composure. The pain in your hand was no longer the foremost concern, and you couldn't let it distract you from the task at hand. You knew that each moment counted in this climb, and you needed to find the safest route to reach the next shelf.

Reassessing the situation, you examined the uneven rock wall before you, trying to identify the most secure handholds and footholds.

An idea crossed your mind and it could be great, or the worst idea ever and you could fall to your death but you were determined. You carefully maneuver around your pack and push it closer to the end of the shelf. You carefully placed a leg on the pack and then another, standing precariously on your pack which provided you almost a foot of extra height, you used the wall to steady yourself. You prayed to the Gods and reached with your right hand for the crevice that had so rudely marred your hand. Finding more traction with the gauze you confidently pulled yourself extending your right leg so your foot found purchase on the shelf. A victorious smile crossed your face as you then pushed off your pack with your left leg and hoisted yourself onto the shelf. A quiet laugh left your lips as you clung to the wall you were now facing. 

Looking to your left, you bent down carefully to grab your pack. This shelf was a lot shorter, jutting from the wall maybe only eight inches. You had to precariously grab your heavy pack with one hand and quickly cram it under your left leg to prevent it from plummeting to the ground below.

You were so close now that you could feel the cool mist from the water above, and the deafening roar of the falls filled your ears. Perched roughly 15 feet above the ground, you took a moment to catch your breath. You dared not look down, fearing that it would disrupt your balance. Instead, you pressed your belly tightly against the rock wall in front of you, your heart pounding with both exertion and anticipation.

After a brief moment of rest, a surge of adrenaline coursed through you. This was it, the final leg of your treacherous journey. You had one more pull, one last push, and you would reach the lower pool, your goal within your grasp. But you also knew that a single mistake could lead to a disastrous fall, a fate you couldn't afford.

Taking a deep breath, you raised your arms above your head, your palms resting on the ridge above. With utmost care and precision, you hoisted yourself up, quickly placing both feet on your pack. The pack provided just enough height to get your elbows onto the smooth rock above. You pulled with every ounce of strength you had, feeling your belly scrape against the unyielding stone as you lifted.

Luck was on your side, as your feet managed to find a foothold through the worn leather of your boot. This newfound leverage allowed you to push yourself up, resembling a sea lion clambering onto a rocky outcrop. With sheer determination and the last vestiges of your strength, you quickly pulled your right leg under you and pushed yourself onto all fours on the smooth rock face. Your heart raced, your hands and knees trembling from the exertion, but you had made it. You had reached the final stretch of your perilous ascent, and the pool ahead awaited, a shimmering reward for your indomitable spirit.

A sob escaped your lips, a surge of emotion you hadn't anticipated as the reality of your accomplishment finally caught up with you. You had done it. You had managed to make it to the lower pool, and the inviting, milky-warm waters beckoned to soothe your weary body. Steam swirled around you, creating an ethereal atmosphere as you lay there, taking in the moment.

Rolling onto your back to face the sky, you watched as a giant silver ship soared high above the mountain. Your eyes followed it for a brief moment before it disappeared into the vast expanse of the blue sky. Tears welled up and trickled down your cheeks, their salty warmth mixing with the refreshing mist from the pool. You felt the gentle movements of the babe inside you and couldn't help but smile through your tears.

"Noona...we made it," you whispered in basic, your hand tenderly caressing your belly. The connection between you and the life within you was stronger than ever, a bond forged through this incredible journey.

After some time, you stirred, realizing that you needed to retrieve your pack. With some effort, the pack proved easier to handle than your own weight combined with the growing life inside you. You unzipped the pack and reached for your bedroll when another sensation, different from the earlier contractions, radiated through your core. This time, it felt like pressure, a clear sign that the moment you had been anticipating was drawing near.

After finding the bedroll, you took a moment to survey the area for a suitable spot to lay it down. The relatively flat rock surface encircling the spring was a dark black, a stark contrast to the frothy blue of the hot spring's waters. The ancient, tranquil pool was surrounded by old, tattered bedrolls, some empty, while others still held the silent remains of Illa-ishi who hadn't been as fortunate as you.

You sighed softly, the weight of the past and the solemnity of the place pressing down on you. You knew what lay beneath the surface of this hot spring – the resting places of those who had undertaken the same treacherous journey but hadn't emerged victorious. Out of respect for their memory, the people of Kith never dared to touch the remains. Instead, they left the bones where they lay, allowing them to become one with the planet's core, a final return to the world from which they had come.

Gently, you found a clear space amidst the bedrolls and laid down your own bedroll. It felt strange to rest among the remnants of those who had gone before you, but you also understood the significance of this place.

It was believed among your people that the Mountain of Mothers was the handiwork of the divine God of Kith, a deity whose love for his wife, Illa-ishi, was as vast as the universe itself.

Illa-ishi’s womb had cradled life for what seemed like an eternity and her body bore the weight of years, while her heart bore the burden of unbearable pain. Witnessing his beloved wife suffer, Kith, with his divine hands, crafted a pool at the mountain's base. Its waters held the promise of relief, a balm for Illa-ishi's agony.

While Kith labored tirelessly to raise the Mountain of Mothers, Illa-ishi, driven by a desperation born of unending torment, embarked on a solitary climb up its slopes. With each step, she ascended toward the heavens, seeking solace that seemed perpetually out of reach.

At the pinnacle of her journey, amidst the tranquil waters of the divine pool, Illa-ishi's child was born. Yet, there was no cry of life, no breath to fill the air. In a heart-wrenching moment, the lonely mother, overcome by despair, embraced the waters that had promised relief. She allowed herself to be consumed, seeking peace in the depths of the pool.

Kith, returning to find his wife and child lost to the pool’s embrace, was consumed by an anguish that eclipsed the stars. In his sorrow, he performed a deed both divine and sacrificial. In a resolute act, he harnessed the remnants of their life force, infusing it with the very essence of his divine being, and breathed life into the creation of the upper pool atop the Mountain of Mothers. 

This upper pool, borne from his profound sacrifice, was destined to be a reward for those who completed the arduous journey together. It was a testament to the strength of unity, the enduring love that bound families and lovers, and the rewards that awaited those who surmounted the trials of life.

Yet, even in the splendor of his divine creation, Kith's sadness consumed him. He recognized the fundamental truth that Illa could not always survive, and that Noona may not always breathe. And so, the first pool, at the mountain's base, remained untouched, preserved as a sanctuary of rest and respect. A place where Illa-ishi, and Illa could find solace amidst the beauty of the Mountain of Mothers, where the waters whispered stories of love and sacrifice, and where their weary spirits could find respite beneath the endless expanse of the starlit sky.

In history there was only one illa-ishi who succeeded in birthing a breathing babe at the first pool, and she had birthed an evil so strong it was said to last generations. 

You knew your heart, and you knew your babe. You had come here to rest.

—

The hike was hard. Din was breathing heavily under the weight of his armor and the burden of Grogu, who looked around the desolate landscape with a sad curiosity. How many skeletons had they passed? What kind of place was this? Why were you here? The guilt gnawed at him with each step he took. Why had he even gone to seek out pleasure from solitude in the first place? He thought back to that night… 

The night was dark and heavy as Din sat alone in the dimly lit corner of the cantina in Mos Eisley, his thoughts consumed by a yearning for Grogu. The scorching sands of Tatooine outside were a harsh reminder of the precious time he had spent here with the child and Peli Motto. They had been moments of sanctuary, where the galaxy's chaos seemed miles away.

Nearly a year had passed since he'd entrusted Grogu to Jedi Knight Luke Skywalker, a decision made with the best intentions. But that choice had left a void within him that he could hardly bear. Sleepless nights had become his constant companion, and the craving for both rest and peace had grown unbearable. And yet, he found himself agreeing to help Boba Fett in the midst of a brutal war, a commitment that seemed at odds with his desire for tranquility.

But in that cantina, he made a solemn decision. He had to seek out Grogu one last time, he had to give Grogu the chain mail that he had made for him. Just, as a way to protect him nothing more… He ran his fingers over its cool surface, a gesture that silently conveyed his unbreakable resolve before he pocketed the beskar. 

As the night deepened and the alcohol flowed, he realized he had indulged in more Corellian Whiskey than he should have, knowing he needed a clear head for the journey that awaited him. But the whiskey's burn was a welcomed distraction, a temporary escape from the overwhelming pain of missing Grogu.

In the midst of his solitude, the cantina's atmosphere began to change. A group of scantily dressed women, draped in silks and adorned with gold, entered the establishment. They moved with grace and charisma, engaging patrons in conversation, flirting, and distributing holochips for a nearby pleasure house. Din snorted at the thought. When was the last time he even had time to fuck anything but his palm? 

When was the last? He wondered trying to think back over the years since he’d acquired the responsibility of caring for Grogu. 

Years. Actual, years.

In his inebriated state, Din found himself clutching the holochip, his steps unsteady as he navigated the narrow streets of Mos Eisley towards the establishment advertised on the chip. He had given in to a reckless impulse, fueled by a desire to escape the pain of missing Grogu, and a fleeting sense of excitement at the prospect of companionship, even if it was just for one night. The weight of the impending war, as Boba Fett had described it, loomed in his thoughts, and he couldn't help but wonder if this might be his last moment of solace.

Entering the dimly lit and shady establishment, he was met by a greasy, overweight man berating a young child. The sight of the child sent a wave of unease through him, casting a shadow over his already troubled conscience. What kind of place was this, where children were exposed to such depravity?

"Not for sale!" the greasy man barked at Din, as if reading some unsavory intent in the Mandalorian's eyes, he shielded the child, pushing her back behind a tattered curtain.

“I wasn’t…” Din’s words faltered, the very thought of such exploitation sickening him to his core.

But the foreman, undeterred, eyed Din up and down, his gaze lingering on the gleaming beskar armor. “You’ve got money, I’ve got girls,” the man said, his voice oozing with a repugnant confidence.

Din struggled to find the words, his thoughts a jumbled mess, still reeling from the shock of seeing a child in such a place. He stumbled, his voice faltering.

The foreman, undeterred, went on, "I have a girl who just became available. She's not been with anyone, you'd be lucky to find a deal like her on this side of Tatooine." He reached into a box of hologram pucks, selected one, and placed it on the desk. Activating the hologram, he presented it to Din.

Din's gaze fixated on the static image, his eyes locked on the visage.. Strangely, he felt a deep pull within him, as if your image was both familiar and enigmatic, stirring emotions he couldn't quite place.

"How much?" Din's voice, though filtered through his modulator, held a heaviness, a mix of curiosity and longing.

"Four thousand credits," the foreman stated, avarice evident in his words.

“Four?” Din repeated, incredulous, his disbelief met with a dismissive glance from the foreman. “How much does she get?” he demanded, his tone sharp and unwavering.

The foreman's look turned defensive, his response sharp, "Two thousand. My girls are lucky to get any at all."

Din's resolve hardened, and he leaned in, his voice taking on a threatening edge that he usually reserved for bounties. "I'll pay six thousand, and she gets four thousand."

The foreman's eyes widened, momentarily caught off guard, but a vile smirk soon crept across his face. "Deal. Right this way, sir," he beamed, all too eager to make the transaction.

The foreman led him through a maze of dimly lit hallways filled with disturbing moans and an overpowering, artificial perfume that hung heavily in the air. The cacophony of voices from behind the closed doors was a haunting reminder of the grim reality of this place, and the perfumed scent was a failed attempt at masking the despair that lurked within.

At the end of the corridor, the foreman unlocked a door and gestured for Din to enter. "I'll send her in," he grunted, closing the door behind Din.

Din stumbled into the room, the alcohol coursing through his veins, muddling his thoughts. He took in his surroundings, finding himself in a chamber that seemed a stark contrast to the rest of the establishment. A makeshift bed of luxurious pillows lay on the floor, richly woven tapestries hung from the ceiling, creating a semblance of privacy. Incense burned intensely, casting a hazy atmosphere, a chair rested by the door infront of a towering golden-framed mirror that rest to the right. 

This must be a more expensive room, he thought, his mind reeling with the absurdity of it all. He couldn't help but question himself, wondering what he was truly doing here, and if this was the way he wanted to fill the void left by Grogu.

As the room's fakely lavish atmosphere weighed upon him, the door behind him swung open gently. He turned, his movements slow and heavy from his armor, to see you enter. Your form was meek, draped in a light blue silk garment that covered more of your body than the women he had seen in the cantina. Gold metal accents adorned your wrists, ankles, and neck, casting a subtle glow in the dim room.

Din's breath hitched as he observed you, his gaze tracing your figure from your feet to your face. Your flushed face and the nervous way you looked down at the floor beside him made it clear that you were unfamiliar with this line of work. He saw you absentmindedly running your index and middle finger along the material of your flowing skirt.

He couldn't explain it, but something about your vulnerability, the innocence you still carried despite the circumstances, touched him. For a moment, he entertained the thought that the foreman had lied about your experience, but as he watched you in silence, he knew that the greasy man's words were painfully accurate.

Din shifted slightly, causing your gaze to snap to him quickly. His visor concealed his expression, but his body language spoke volumes. He observed for another moment, considering his next move. Slowly, he began to remove his gloves. The process was deliberate, one finger at a time on the right hand of his glove, until he was able to pull it off, revealing his bare hand. His eyes never left yours as he started to work the other glove off, the tension in the room growing palpable.

Your gaze drifted from his visor to his hands, watching intently as the gloves came off. As soon as he removed the gloves, he walked to the chair by the door and set them down gently. Your gaze followed him as he approached, your hand never leaving the doorknob the entire time. It was as if you were waiting for him to make a move, to confirm the fear that had taken root in your heart.

Din stopped a few feet away from you, his gauntleted hand hanging by his side. There was something in his stance, a subtle softening in his normally rigid posture that made you feel he might not be the threat you initially perceived.

He straightened as he turned to face you, extending his tanned and calloused right hand as a peace offering. It hung there in the space between you, a bridge across the vast divide that had separated your worlds. The look you gave him that night pierced through his then-buzzed haze, and as your gaze moved from his visor to the palm of his outstretched hand, you ever so softly smiled.

Your hand moved slowly, with a slight tremble, as you placed it in his. Maker, it was so soft, so... loving. In a way, it reminded Din of his mother's hands. He remembered the feeling of her hands on his face when she would kiss him on the top of his head or brush his hair back. It was a memory buried deep, one he rarely let resurface in the harsh reality of his life. 

He watched you, unknowingly holding his breath, as your eyes flitted from his hands back up to his visor.

That night was almost eight months ago, and in the span of those months, the galaxy had shifted beneath Din Djarin's feet. He had fought with Boba Fett, gotten Grogu back, found his covert and embarked on the perilous journey to reclaim Mandalore and his Mandalorian status. The weight of leadership, the responsibilities, and the relentless pursuit of his beliefs had clouded his thoughts, leaving little room for anything else.

As he walked through the dense forest, the guilt that had been gnawing at him grew ever more oppressive. He'd been so preoccupied with his own mission, his people's future, and the legacy of Mandalore that he hadn't even spared a thought in your direction. He had foolishly assumed that the foreman would handle any potential consequences of their night together, perhaps naively believing that you would choose to remain silent. However, what if you hadn't told the foreman? What if you carried something precious from that night, a part of him he was yet to know about? He had neither your name nor any means of contact, and that realization weighed him down like a camtono of beskar. 

With every step, the burden of his guilt pressed down upon him, and he mentally berated himself for not knowing your name or sharing his. He deserved this guilt, for in his quest to rebuild his world, he had unintentionally left a piece of himself behind. If you were pregnant, how were you supposed to find him in the vastness of the galaxy? He couldn't shake the thought that he might be a father, and yet he had no way to reach out to you.

Lost in thought and oblivious to his surroundings, Din hadn't even realized that he'd strayed from the trail until a blood-curdling scream pierced through the forest's silence, shattering the walls of his introspection. His eyes darted ahead, and the only thing he saw beyond the thick undergrowth was a rocky precipice. Steam rose from somewhere below, and the scream, unmistakably human, sent a chill down his spine.

— 

After doing your best to set up a makeshift camp amidst the unforgiving terrain, the contractions began to increase in intensity and frequency. Drenched in sweat, your body ached with fatigue, and desperation for the comfort of the hot spring surged within you. In your birthing gown, you summoned every ounce of strength to embark on the journey toward the soothing waters.

With slow, measured steps, you made your way to the spring, determined to find solace amidst the throes of labor. The contractions continued to grip you, and you fought to maintain your composure, focusing on deep breaths as you moved closer to the source of relief.

As you neared the milky waters, the soothing sound of the waterfall dumping cool water into the far end of the pool filled your ears. The natural geothermal heat emanated from the earth beneath the water, warming the fresh, chilly stream. You gingerly lowered yourself to the spring's edge, wincing through the persistent contraction that clawed at your strength.

With immense effort, you managed to sit on the edge of the pool, your feet dipping into the perfectly warm water. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as the soothing waters enveloped your aching limbs. Slowly, you eased yourself into the warm embrace of the spring, its shallowness just deep enough for you to sit comfortably, your head above the waterline.

The warmth cocooned you, providing the much-needed respite your weary body craved. In the midst of your struggle, the hot spring became a sanctuary, a place where the pain of labor met the healing balm of nature, and for a fleeting moment, you found solace amidst the turmoil, embracing the precious gift of warmth and comfort in the midst of the wilderness.

You had lost track of how long you sat in the soothing water, your fingers pruning as the serene ambiance of the hot spring washed over you. Contented sighs intermittently left your lips as you found a momentary respite from the relentless contractions. The world around you seemed to blur as the hot spring cradled you in its gentle embrace.

But all too soon, your tranquility shattered like fragile glass. A pained cry tore through the rocky landscape. Your eyes shot open, searching for the source of the distress.

Your gaze darted towards the rugged ridge you had labored to climb mere hours earlier. Two voices reached your ears, one male and one female, carrying on the wind. Panic surged through you as you observed a hand ascending the top of the ridge. Your heart quickened, and you realized there were people approaching, their presence entirely unexpected.

With haste, you sprung up from your spot in the spring, water cascading off your birthing gown as you clambered to the edge of the pool. 

A man, seemingly oblivious to your presence, ascended the ridge, a pack strapped to his back. He reached the flat rock and extended his hand below him. Your bare feet met the cold, rough surface of the gravely rock as you hurried over to the edge, your heart heavy with empathy for the woman in dire need. Down below, on the third rock shelf, you saw a woman, her face contorted in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks, and her birthing gown stained with the evidence of her struggles.

“Isa a happis” (I will help!) you called out, your voice resolute, your determination evident. You easily crouched down next to the man, extending your hand to the one who was suffering. She gazed up at you, gratitude filling her eyes as she grasped your outstretched hand.

“Ona tice!” (On Three!) The man standing beside you declared, his voice strong and determined. You locked eyes with him, sharing the gravity of the situation, and both of you prepared to pull the distressed woman to safety. With a shared resolve, he began to count down, and on three, you pulled the woman up with surprising ease, your muscles working in harmony to lift her to safety. 

Wide-eyed, she arrived at the top of the landing, blood staining her birthing gown, a visceral testament to the life that sought to enter the world. She cried out in agony, her body in the throes of birthing pains. Your attention shifted to the Illit, his face etched with desperation as he removed his pack, his hands trembling as he tried to assist his manna.

He grabbed her, his touch gentle yet urgent, realizing that there was no time to lose. Even as you watched, you could tell the baby was coming, the process inevitable now. The woman screamed, the sound echoing off the rocky walls, a symphony of pain and life in the midst of nature's raw beauty.

“Noona essa comesei ittina!” (the babe is coming now!) you urgently announce, your voice steady and commanding, as you motion for the father to cease his movements. He gazes at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of relief, gratitude, and sadness, the emotions palpable in the misty air.

Your own contractions, once so overwhelming, are now distant memories as you shift your focus entirely to the woman and her impending delivery. You position yourself between the woman's legs, and she leans back on her husband for support, the bond of love and trust between them evident in the way they clung to each other during this moment. 

With gentle but purposeful hands, you begin to move the gauze of her birthing dress out of the way, revealing the sacred space where the new life is making its entrance into the world. The sight fills you with a profound sense of awe and wonder, the beauty of life in its most raw and unadulterated form.

As you catch the first glimpse of the emerging baby, a smile naturally graces your lips, a radiant reflection of the profound beauty you are about to witness. You look up at the father, sharing a moment of unspoken understanding and connection as you prepare to assist in guiding their child into the world, an act of grace in the heart of nature's splendor.

“Noona essa comesei! Attari noona bassi?” (The baby is coming, the baby cloth?) you urgently conveyed to the father, the intensity of the moment hanging heavy in the air. He blinked, momentarily caught in the whirlwind of emotions before comprehending your words. With careful haste, he gently leaned his wife back, supporting her amidst the agonizing pains as he reached for his pack against the wall.

Desperation etched on his face, he hurriedly threw various items from the bag, scattering them around in his search for the baby cloth. Every passing second felt like an eternity as the mother cried out in pain, her body instinctively bringing forth the baby as your hand supported its head. 

Finally, after emptying the entire bag, the Illit father's shoulders slumped in defeat. His frustration boiled over, and he struck the rock wall with his fist, a primal cry of helplessness escaping his lips.

In the midst of this despair, you remained calm, your instincts taking over.

“Asa Passi! Attara noona bassi!” (In my pack! I have the baby cloth!) you shouted at the father, your voice carrying the urgency of the moment. With a quick motion, you pointed to your own pack, signaling where the much-needed baby cloth could be found. Your other hand remained cradling the head of the newborn, offering support and comfort to the laboring mother.

You ran a soothing hand over her leg as she summoned her last ounce of strength, pushing with all her might, and then, in a powerful moment, the babe broke free into the world. The father, having located the cloth meant for your own child in your pack, rushed over, his eyes wide with anxiety. You accepted the plain cloth from him, wasting no time in wrapping the baby in it.

The newborn lay still and silent, not letting out the expected cries that heralded a new life. A sense of despair washed over you, and you shared a helpless glance with the father, both of you fearing the worst.

The mother's wails of agony resonated in the rugged landscape, echoing the heartbreak of a life not granted breath. The anguish in the air was suffocating as she reached for her still baby, her hands trembling. With a heavy heart, you gently transferred the infant to the mother's waiting arms. 

She cradled her lifeless child, tears streaming down her face as she caressed the baby, whispering soft words of love and heartbreak. Her cries mingled with those of her husband as they shared the unbearable moment of loss.

Tears streamed down your cheeks as you tore yourself away from the heart-wrenching scene of the manna. You felt a surge of emotions, a profound sense of hopelessness, reminiscent of the day you had received the news of your own pregnancy. 

— 

The anguished screams pierced the rugged terrain, reverberating through the rocky expanse, and Din felt his heart plummet through the soles of his boots. Grogu, sensing the turmoil in the air, cooed softly from the safety of his sling, nestled beneath Din's protective hand.

Carefully and quietly, Din approached the edge of the rocky ridge, his heart pounding with trepidation. As he looked down into the precipitous drop-off, his eyes fell upon a scene that nearly froze his heart in his chest.

Down below, amidst the harsh and unforgiving black surface of the rocky cavern, he saw you kneeling, a stoic presence, between the legs of a pregnant woman who was hemorrhaging profusely. The woman's anguished cries filled the cavern, echoing against the unforgiving walls.

Din's eyes then shifted to a man, who appeared to be the woman's partner, desperately rummaging through a pack, panic etched across his face. You spoke urgently in a language Din didn't understand, the words punctuated by fear and sorrow. The man seemed to heed your words and swiftly abandoned his fruitless search, rushing over to another pack that lay nearby. The man retrieved a gray cloth from the second pack and hurriedly approached where you were crouched.

Din observed, his eyes transfixed, as you, kneeling on the rocky cavern floor, expertly assisted the pregnant woman. With a mix of awe and sadness, he saw you pull a beautiful, newborn baby from the crying mother, delicate and fragile in your hands.

His gaze lingered as you carefully, almost mournfully, opened the grey cloth. To his dismay, he recognized the symbol displayed on it – a mudhorn. It was the very same symbol etched onto his own pauldron, the only identifier that you could tie to him. He watched as you used the cloth meant for your child, his child, to wrap the now purple baby in the blanket with meticulous care.

Cries and sobs filled the air as he watched from his hidden spot on the high cliff above. His sounds were likely muffled by the nearby waterfall, but he felt Grogu pulling at him, desperate for attention. Yet, he couldn't bring himself to look away. He continued to watch, hidden in the shadows.

He observed as you struggled to stand, your belly full with his child, and as you respectfully walked away to what he could now confirm as your pack. He could see the pain etched on your face, the tears in your eyes, and he felt a pang of guilt deep within him. The weight of his past actions pressed heavily on his shoulders.

Din had done a lot of things he wasn't proud of; he'd walked a dark and treacherous path. He had hated himself when he handed Grogu over to the client for a camtono of beskar, but now, seeing you here, in this vulnerable moment, he hated himself more than he had ever thought possible. 

The symbol on that blanket, the mudhorn, was a reminder of the choices he had made and the lives he had affected. As he watched you cry softly, he knew he couldn't change the past, but he could choose a different path now, one that might bring redemption and peace.

— 

Hours passed by as the mother and her lifeless baby lay on the rocky outcrop. The father, now solemn and determined, prepared the pack for their descent. He spared you a thankful glance as he gently helped the mother stand, their shared grief connecting them. With cautious and uneasy steps, they began their descent down the cliffside.

The mother cradled her unbreathing babe, her heart heavy with loss, as she slowly made her way towards you. With some effort, you rose to your feet and met her halfway. Tears welled up in your eyes as she kissed your cheeks in gratitude.

“Illa-ishi, missa.” (Lonely mothers, sisters.) she said mournfully, her words heavy with the weight of shared sorrow. She placed a gentle hand on your belly, a silent acknowledgment of your pain. Overwhelmed by the emotions of the moment, you couldn't hold back a sob, and the two of you embraced tightly. In that moment, she became your sister in grief, and your shared loss bound you together in a way that words couldn't express.

As she and her husband began their descent, you watched them with a heavy heart. The blanket you had intended for your own child now wrapped around her lifeless baby, providing some small comfort in their time of mourning. 

Left alone once more, you couldn't hold back your tears as you watched the husband carefully guide his grieving wife down the steep cliff and out of sight. As they disappeared from your view, a profound sense of isolation settled over you, and you wept softly, your heart heavy with sorrow.

Returning to the healing waters, you couldn't help but notice that your contractions had inexplicably ceased. Confused but hopeful, you gently felt around your belly and were met with a delicate, reassuring movement from within. A smile, albeit a tearful one, graced your face as you carefully lowered yourself back into the pool, ready to embrace whatever destiny the Gods had in store for you.

The sun began its descent, casting a warm, golden glow over the landscape. From your elevated position, you had a perfect view of the sky as it transformed into a breathtaking canvas of purple, pink, and orange ribbons. As you smiled to yourself, entranced by the beauty of nature, an unusual sound suddenly pierced the tranquility of the moment, snapping your attention to the cliff edge. Your heart raced as you strained to identify the source of this unexpected disturbance, a sense of both trepidation and curiosity gripping you.

As if by magic, a form suddenly flipped up onto the solid ground level with the pool. A small, green being emerged, making noises that were nearly drowned out by the roar of the waterfall. Yet, an overwhelming feeling of joy washed over you as you beheld the sight of this tiny creature toddling towards you.

Driven by curiosity and amazement, you pushed yourself up and out of the water. Your birthing gown clung to your body as you moved, but you paid it no mind. Stepping onto the rock, you slowly rounded the corner of the pool to greet the small being.

To your astonishment, you realized it was a baby, with wide, innocent eyes and a furious babble. The baby lifted its tiny hands towards you, and you couldn't help but crouch down as best you could, your heart filled with warmth. "Noona?" you asked the little creature with a soft, amused laugh. In response, the tiny being gave you a toothy grin, and it made you laugh even more.

Your attention, however, shifted from the small being to a pair of gloved hands gripping the side of the rocky cliff. Your breath caught in your throat as you recognized those gloves, and heat rushed into your face. With wide eyes, you watched as a figure clad in silver beskar, a Mandalorian, lifted themselves effortlessly over the cliff face and stood there with an almost regal grace.

From your crouched position, you observed as the green baby waddled over to the Mandalorian and tugged on his shin armor. The Mandalorian, with his helmeted face turned towards the child, bent down to pick up the little one, and you couldn't hide the confusion that replaced your initial joy.

—

Din's eyes remained locked on your form as he swiftly pulled himself up onto the flat surface of the cliff. He saw you kneeling down, fingers outstretched towards Grogu, the shock etched across your face. But his gaze was drawn irresistibly to the wet dress that clung to your swollen belly, a stark reminder of your impending motherhood.

As he felt Grogu tugging at his shin armor, he silently bent down to pick up the child. Still, his eyes remained fixed on you, and he struggled to find the right words to explain this unexpected reunion.

“I... I had a dream,” he finally managed to say, his voice choked with emotion.

Your eyes softened, and he witnessed your composure crumbling before him. Your confused and shocked expression melted into a soft frown as tears welled up in your eyes. Before he fully registered it, his feet carried him closer, and he knelt down in front of you with Grogu still cradled in his arms. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, hoping to offer some form of reassurance.

"Please... don't cry," he implored softly, the tenderness in his voice evident. However, he watched as you recoiled from his touch, your reaction sharp and violent, like a wounded animal cornered in fear.

— 

"Don't cry," his voice was a gentle whisper from behind as he reached out to sweep your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear with his left hand. His thumb, soft and reassuring, brushed away a solitary tear that had collected in the corner of your eye, preventing it from descending down your cheek.

The cold, unyielding embrace of his armor pressed against your back, a constant reminder of his presence, as if he permeated every inch of the room. You lay face down on the makeshift bed within the opulent suite, placed there by him in silence. His helmet tucked against the back of your head as his right hand reached around the front of your body to work open your tight entrance. He smelled like musk, metal, and something floral.

You didn't know his name, and in truth, you knew very little about him. All you knew was that he had paid a considerable sum for your services and bore a mudhorn symbol on his pauldron. The hushed whispers from the other women in the establishment painted a picture of a bounty hunter, a formidable figure who held the favor of the new Daimyo. He was a source of fear and fascination, and the idea of him both terrified and intrigued you. But, above all, you craved freedom more than anything else, and this was a means to an end.

As the moments unfolded, you couldn't hold back the tears that escaped, mingling with a confusing mix of emotions. It wasn't bad; he wasn't unkind. In fact, you found him surprisingly polite. He had said nothing, just removed his gloves and led you to the makeshift bed, where he now pressed into your body from behind.

It felt fine, maybe even surprisingly good, but your stubbornness held strong. You were determined not to give the foreman the satisfaction of knowing you enjoyed the path you had chosen to earn your freedom. The thought of succumbing to pleasure and surrendering to the moment felt like weakness, and you clung to your resolve with unwavering determination.

However, as his fingers moved softly, so softly, you couldn't help but feel your resistance slowly crumbling. Each touch was skillful, and the sensations they evoked were impossible to ignore.

You could feel a pleasure building within you as he continued his careful thrusting into your tightness. His thick fingers curled slightly as his thumb worked your clit. His left hand rests by your head as he made sure to move any hair out of your face. You had no idea if he was watching you through his visor, but you had assumed so because he wiped your tears and told you not to cry. The build up turned into a tightness that needed to be released, he could tell by how hot you’d gotten under him and how your walls fluttered on his fingers. 

He felt a pride well up in him at the knowledge that he still had the ability to bring a woman pleasure but also that you’d finally relaxed enough to allow yourself to feel this. He closed his eyes for a moment just to focus on how your walls felt around his fingers, he willed himself to listen to your body. Upon each drawback of his fingers he worked to spread your tight cunt just slightly- three, four, five more thrusts of his fingers and he felt you tremble under him. 

His eyes snapped open, and he observed you biting your hand to stifle any sounds. He felt the flutter of your walls on his fingers as he stilled in order to relish in the feel your softness. He watched you come back from wherever you had gone in your high, his hand moving gently to caress the hand you had bitten, the teeth marks already leaving a faint purplish hue. As his thumb brushed over the marked area, he felt the slight tremor in your body, your vulnerability laid bare, and saw the glistening tears welling up in your eyes once more. 

“Don’t cry.” he said again before moving to sit back on his heels. He admired your form, the way the flame lit room made your skin look like silk. You were totally bare to him, he’d undressed you slowly and carefully placed your clothing next his gloves on the chair. He was still fully clothed save for the gloves he’d removed. He watched as your form began to stir, and he carefully placed a hand on your lower back to keep you down. You immediately complied. With a sigh he slowly ran his hand down your back to the curve of your ass and to the back of your thigh. He could see the slick from your arousal glimmering in the soft light. 

He could see everything, every intimate part of you, and yet he didn’t allow you the joy of seeing him. He couldn’t. 

You sat, staring at the wall ahead of you, the seconds feeling like hours, with him seated behind you. The situation was embarrassing, and you could only hope he wasn't disgusted. You had assumed he was finished with you after whatever had just happened, only to be gently pushed back onto the bed, not harshly but rather in a silent, pleading manner. After a moment, you heard him stir behind you, and you froze, your ears attuned to his every movement.

You heard a soft rustling of fabrics and buckles. He came to rest on you again, with his left hand resting by your left hand. His right hand gripped your waist as he shifted you back towards him. This position shifted you more so your backside was resting against his thighs while your chest was flush with the pillows beneath you. He was able to bend over you more like this so he comfortably rested on his left arm above you. 

His right hand left your waist and you felt the warmth of his hand in between your legs. You could feel the soft head of his hard cock turn to velvet as he ran it through your slick folds. You clenched the pillow underneath you as you braced yourself for the pain the other women had told you about. You felt pressure against your entrance and instinctively you tried to move away only to feel his hand move like lightning from between your thighs to your waist as he anchored you in place. 

He didn’t say anything just held you there as he slowly pushed the head of his cock deeper into your entrance. His grip once iron on your waist turned soft as his thumb brushed circles into the skin there. Slowly he sank deeper and that’s when you felt it, the sharp uncomfortable sting. You tensed under him at the pain and you felt him freeze above you. His left hand moved to grab your face beneath him, turning your cheek so he could see you. You looked over your left shoulder to peer up at him, his cold visor returning your gaze. You couldn't help the tear that fell as you clutched the pillows.

"Don't..." his voice was strained through the vocoder, and you knew he was holding back, for you.

—

"Do not say that to me!" Your pained and thickly accented voice ripped through the air as you swatted his arm away. The green child yelped softly at your sudden movement.

Din's eyes widened. It was the first thing you had said to him. You hadn't spoken a word that night. He recoiled from you in shame.

He watched as you cried, emotions swirling within him like a chaotic storm. 

"You shouldn't be out here," he managed to say as he stood abruptly, his words tinged with a mixture of concern and frustration. He glanced around, finally taking in the grim surroundings. Blood still pooled on the rocky ground where the woman had given birth earlier. Even worse, the remains of skeletons lay strewn about, their shattered bones mixed with the gravel under his boots.

"This is a graveyard, not a place for a woman in your condition to give birth," he grumbled, regretting the harshness of his words. The eerie desolation of this place was overwhelming, and he couldn't make sense of anything. The grim reality of death and birth intertwined in this forsaken corner of the galaxy was too much for him to bear.

Your face, your soft, beautiful, and glowing face looked up at him then. 

"This is where I am meant to be," your broken voice hit him right in the chest.

For a moment, Din just stood there, his helmeted gaze locked on you. Grogu stirred in his arms and he set the child down. His gaze shifted from Grogu to the pack leaning against the rocky wall, the very same pack he had seen a man carrying at the market, with his wife in tow. It was the same pack he had witnessed being carried by the man who was desperate, carrying his bleeding wife. The pieces of the puzzle began to click into place in Din's mind.

"Did you... carry that alone?" he asked, his curiosity piqued as he looked from you to the pack and back.

You huffed, annoyance coloring your features, and moved to stand. Din instinctively reached out to help you, but you swatted his hand away. You stood, resolute, and locked eyes with him through his visor.

"Yes. I am illa-ishi," you declared firmly, your words laden with meaning.

Din furrowed his brow, confused by the unfamiliar term. "Illa-ishi?" he repeated, the word alien to him.

Your cheeks flushed with embarrassment as you realized he didn't understand. "I am a lonely mother," you tried to find the right words that could translate to Basic.

He continued to stare, his helmet giving away nothing. You huffed in frustration and attempted again, simplifying your words. "I am alone." you finally settled on, hoping he would grasp the essence of your situation.

Din just stared at you, seemingly uncomprehending. You felt your cheeks burn with embarrassment, and the green child peered up at you, as if offering a sympathetic glance. Frustrated with the language barrier, you turned to walk towards your pack and bedroll.

As you began to walk away, Din's gloved hand gently gripped your upper arm, stopping you in your tracks. You shot an annoyed look back at him, silently demanding an explanation for his actions.

Din's gloved thumb moved soothingly circles on your arm, his gaze locked on you. He took a moment to search for the right words, his voice barely rising above a gravelly whisper.

"Is...is this mine?" he questioned, his words weighted with uncertainty, his voice low and husky.

Your eyes fixated on his hand caressing your arm, and tears welled up again, threatening to break free. You bit your lip in a futile attempt to hold them back, forcing yourself to look directly into the reflective visor of his helmet. You saw your own tear-streaked face in the cold, mirrored surface of the Mandalorian's armor, and it was a sight that turned your stomach.

"Yes. I've... never been with another. Only you," the confession tumbled from your lips, the words feeling strange and heavy in your mouth. Your body tensed, and you felt a sudden, sharp tightness envelop you, a contraction, your first since the bleeding mother had shown up. You gasp in agony as your knees buckle under you. 

"Dank farrik!" Din's initial worry had given way to frustration as he cursed under his breath. He reached out and grabbed you, his gloved hands steadying you gently while Grogu made a sad noise from his perch on the ground.

"We have to get you out of here. Is there a medcenter near here?" His voice trembled with desperation as he crouched down to meet your gaze.

"What?!" You hissed exasperatedly through the pain, your frustration and agony making you bristle.

"Medcenter!" Din almost yelled, and his eyes widened when you shoved him away.

"Issa noona ibaniss a plantissia ata mountina as illa! As illa a ma a iss!" you shouted at him in anguish, your words foreign to his ears but laced with undeniable determination. (My baby will be born on this planet, at the Mountain of Mothers, like my mother and the one before her!)

Din stood there, still as stone, as your scream washed over him. 

He looked at you, his gaze falling to your trembling hands, one of them wrapped in blood-soaked gauze. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady himself and regain control.

He was going about this the wrong way. You had climbed the treacherous cliff, your cloth bore the sigil of the Mudhorn, and your pack was identical to the ones the men had carried. You had a well-thought-out plan; he just hadn't been part of it.

With newfound determination, he approached you, taking careful, measured steps. Kneeling down beside you, he spoke softly, his voice filled with genuine concern.

"How do I help you?" he asked, his words breaking through the haze of pain that enveloped you.

You slowly looked up at him through your tears, your eyes locked onto his helmet. For a moment, you were at a loss for words, your mouth slightly ajar as you processed the situation. With a trembling hand, you pointed towards the spring nearby. "Take me there," you said softly, your voice heavy with the weight of your suffering. 

In an instant, Din's strong hands found purchase under your knees and behind your back, and he lifted you with great care, not wanting to cause you any harm. You flushed with the ease of him carrying you, a thought flickering across your mind of how much simpler scaling the cliff might have been if he had been there. But you dismissed the thought as quickly as it came, focusing on the immediate task at hand. You wrapped your left arm around the back of his neck and placed your right hand protectively over your belly, the hard surface of his armor uncomfortably pressing against your side as he carried you toward the inviting hot spring.

"I can go from here," you said in thick, broken Basic, attempting to wiggle out of his grasp.

Din regarded you, confusion clear in his eyes as he tried to understand. His gaze alternated between the steaming water and your face. "You want to go in the water?" he asked, as if seeking confirmation.

"Yes, I can go from here," you repeated, pushing against him with a touch of defiance. His grip tightened, surprising you with its strength, and you nearly yelped in response. Shooting him a displeased look, you tried to assert your independence.

"What, and let you slip?" he asked, gazing at you through his visor before looking ahead. "No." He had made up his mind, and there was no arguing with the Mandalorian's decision.

As you were lowered into the hot spring, the initial shock of the water's heat gave way to a soothing relief. Din was surprised by how inviting it felt, and he understood why pregnant women sought refuge in such places. The water enveloped his boots and rose just above his knees as he carried you into the pool. You held onto him with a newfound intensity as he descended, afraid that he might lose his footing. Your disbelief mixed with gratitude as you realized the extent of his support.

Finding solid ground beneath the water, Din gently released your knees, allowing your feet to dip into the warm embrace of the pool. His hand slid from your back to your waist, ensuring your stability, and he positioned himself behind you in the water. You stood just below his chin, and if he desired, he could easily rest his chin on your head. His right hand remained on your waist, his gloved fingers splayed out on your side, providing you with a reassuring and protective presence.

A powerful surge of emotion overcame Din as he felt the subtle movements of the life within you under his fingertips. He stood there, motionless and transfixed, as you faced away from him, both of you submerged in the comforting warmth of the spring. His eyes traced the contour of your back, the gentle rise and fall as you breathed, and then slowly, as if compelled by an invisible force, he found himself resting his forehead against the back of your head, his helmet touching your soft hair.

He grappled with where to place his left hand, uncertain of the right way to provide comfort. His gaze drifted downwards, fixating on the water where he saw your dress floating softly as it began to soak in the pool. Carefully, he moved his left hand to the small of your back, gripping the back of your waist with a gentle touch.

In the midst of his turmoil, a soft, barely audible sob escaped his lips, and tears welled up inside his helmet, tracing their way down his cheek. "I'm sorry," he uttered, his voice broken and full of guilt. It was a plea for forgiveness, an attempt to convey the overwhelming regret that consumed him. He clung to your form, feeling the life inside you, the life he had a part in creating and then abandoned. 

His wallowing in self-recrimination was shattered by the sound of your voice and the tender touch of your hand as it caressed his right hand.

"Don't cry," your words were soft and filled with sincerity. In that moment, as the tears flowed within his helmet, you offered him understanding and forgiveness. He felt worthy of neither. 

[heartsforvin]

CHRISTMAS IN SEATTLE

pairing; vinnie hacker x fem!reader

warnings; pure, tooth rotting fluff, enjoy <3

summary; you and vinnie spend your first christmas as a family of three in seattle

christmas time for you and vinnie was always fun and filled with so much love. ever since the two of you became parents to a baby boy three months ago, christmas time got a little bit better.

oliver made your and vinnie’s lives so much better when he was born, bringing so much more love into your family.

it’s been an adjustment though. going from just the two of you, to finding out you were pregnant, then suddenly nine months flew by and your baby boy was here.

neither of you would change anything for the world, though.

“vin, you got the car all packed?” you asked as you ran around the house trying to think if you forgot to pack anything important.

vinnie stood to the side holding his son, smiling down at him and whispering “your mom’s crazy, i know” to him.

you stopped in your tracks, glaring at your husband. “i heard that,” you say, walking up to vinnie and grabbing onto your son’s tiny finger. “don’t listen to him.” you whisper.

vinnie let out a low chuckle before replying. “yes, babe. car’s all packed and ready to go.”

you smiled and kissed his cheek, walking over to the garbage can to throw your checklist away.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

one long and stressful plane ride later, the three of you landed in seattle. the three of you finally get to sit down for a minute and relax as you wait for vinnie’s parents to pick you up.

“you excited to see your grandparents and uncle, ollie?” vinnie asks his son as he bounces him gently on his knee.

the baby squints his eyes at his dad, making both you and vinnie smile to each other. soon enough, vinnie’s family gets to the airport and the six of you are on your way to your second home.

walking into the home, it’s just as you remember it - homey and full of love. you smile at vinnie and grab your son from his arms before walking around the familiar home.

“this is gonna be your second home, bub,” you whisper to your sleeping son as you walk around the home. “lots of memories are gonna be made.”

you hear footsteps behind you and soon a pair of arms wrap around your waist seconds later. vinnie smiles into you, kissing the back of your neck.

you turn around to face him, his arms never leaving their spot on your waist. “did your parents set up the pack and play?” you whisper to your husband.

vinnie nods and the two of you head upstairs to put your son down for a much needed nap. after you do, you and vinnie stand side by side, his arm around you once again, as you look down at your son.

“can’t believe it’s already his first christmas, feels like he was just born yesterday.” you say softly to vinnie, his grip on your waist tightens but not enough to hurt you.

kissing your forehead, you lean into him and rest your head on his shoulder. “i know, time’s flyin’.” vinnie tells you.

the two of you stay upstairs in the spare bedroom for a while, smiling down at your son, wondering how you both got so lucky to have this life.

moments later, you two make your way back downstairs to help set up for the night. you help vinnie’s mom in the kitchen while vinnie catches up with his dad and brother.

“how’s mom life been treating you?” maria asks you as the two of you plate some food and set it at the dinning table.

you smile at the mention of your son. “good, actually. it’s been rough, but having vinnie there with me helps so much.” you reply.

maria smiles. “he loves that little boy so much,” she says. “i’m really happy you two found each other, you made his life complete.”

hearing your husbands mother say that to you really warmed your heart. he made your life just as complete as you did his.

baby or not, you knew either way the two of you would be the happiest. oliver just made your guys’ happiness a million times better.

“smells good in here,” you hear someone say. as soon as you feel arms wrap around you and a soft kiss placed on your skin, you knew exactly who it was. “how’s it going?” vinnie asks.

maria smiles at her son and daughter in law. “good, y/n was just telling me how much she loves you and olllie.”

you turn around and smile at your husband, he kisses you quickly since his mother is in the room. vinnie unwraps himself from you and makes his way to the dinning table.

“this all looks amazing, mama.” vinnie says, looking up at his mother with a smile.

maria walks over to her son and hugs him, saying a quick ‘thank you’ before pulling away.

soon enough, it’s dinner time and the five of you gather around the table and enjoy the amazing dinner you had helped prepared.

✧∘* ೃ ⋆｡˚.

after dinner you go back upstairs to grab your son from the crib. “hi, baby!” you greet, grabbing the boy carefully and laying him in your arms.

“you ready to see everyone?” you ask as you make your way down the stairs and into the living room.

once in the room you say, “look who’s awake.” with a big smile on your face as you make your way to sit next to vinnie.

vinnie swings his arm so it’s around you but still resting on the couch. “hey little man.” vinnie says, smiling at his son.

oliver tries to give his dad a wide smile back but it doesn’t work too well, making everyone laugh.

you soon feel your son try to wiggle out of your grasp, making you look down and see he’s trying to make his way to his uncle.

you get reggie’s attention and hand his nephew to him. you nudge vinnie who is talking to his parents, grabbing his attention and have him look over to where reggie is sitting on the couch.

he smiles and wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and kissing your temple.

you watch as reggie plays with his nephew, tickling his sides, making him clap his hands, and just all around being the best uncle with your boy.

“he’ll be a great dad someday.” you whisper to vinnie, making him smile.

the blonde agrees and watches as his brother hands his son to his parents now. the two of you sit in awe as you watch your little family share the love.

after awhile, oliver lands back in vinnie’s lap and you soon hear that presents were now being open.

you sit down on the floor next to vinnie with your son in his lap, grabbing all the presents for you, vinnie and oliver.

“who first?” you ask, but soon see nate pointing in your direction and saying. “i think someone has already tried to start.”

you turn to look at vinnie and see oliver grab the tiny present that’s in front of him and watch him put it in his mouth.

“okay let’s not do that,” vinnie laughs as he takes the present out of his son’s reach. he positions oliver so hes snug against vinnie’s chest and wont fall over. “we open them like this, bud.” he tells his son, opening the small wrapped present in front of him.

you look over and smile at the other three family members as you watch vinnie open his son’s gift. every little interaction vinnie has with oliver makes your heart so warm.

soon after oliver’s presents were opened, the rest of you took turns opening what each of you got for each other. as you did, you couldn’t help but feel so much love and happiness to be apart of this family.

when you and vinnie started dating all those years ago, you had a small feeling he’d be the man you marry, the woman he’d take home to for the holidays, the father of your children. you never fully know that those things would become reality.

you’re so happy they did, though. you couldn’t imagine doing any of this with anyone else. you wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else.

“baby, you okay?” you feel vinnie nudge you a bit, grabbing your attention.

“hmm? oh yeah, just thinking.” you reply with a smile.

“about what?” vinnie asks, and as he does you feel a tiny finger grab yours. you smile at your son and then look back up at your husband.

“us, you,” you say. “just about how happy i am to have you in my life, to have your family, our son, in my life.” you tell him.

vinnie can’t help the smile that creeps up on him, making him give you a goofy grin. “i love you so much, sweetheart. you’ll never know how much you mean to me. having you here with me and my family, with our little family, it means the world to me.”

you start to tear up but vinnie wipes your eyes, careful not to bump his arm against his son’s head. he kisses you softly, completely forgetting he’s in a room with his parents and brother.

you smile against his lips, giving him one quick kiss again before pulling away. “i love you to the moon and back, vinnie. forever.”

“as cute as that was, can you not do that again?” the two of you hear reggie speak up, making you laugh.

you stand up and walk over to the other three people in the room, opening your arms to invite them in a hug.

“i’m gonna do it again, reg, sorry,” you say as you hug the three family members. “i love you guys so much, thank you for letting me be apart of this family.”

the four of you pull away and you give the three a warm smile. vinnie watches from where he sits with oliver and can’t help but tear up.

he picks up his son and gives him a hug and kisses his head. “i love you so much, little man.”

you make your way back to vinnie and your son, grabbing the boy from his dads arms and hugging him and kissing him the same way vinnie did.

after all the presents and ‘i love you’s’ are done, you all make your way into the kitchen for dessert. you sit next to vinnie with oliver close to your chest, and the five of you finish the night with laughs and a whole lot of love.

after dessert, everyone says goodnight and parts their ways to their rooms. you, vinnie, and oliver make your way to the spare room for the night.

changing his diaper and putting him in a sleep onesie, you kiss his head as you lay your boy down for the night.

vinnie does the same after you, saying a quick goodnight his son before climbing into bed with you.

wrapping yourself around your husband, vinnie pulls you into him and kisses you softly. “goodnight my pretty girl. merry christmas.”

you smile and kiss him once more. “goodnight, vinnie. merry christmas.”

moments later the three of you drift off to peaceful sleep, with you snuggled into the love of your life.

this was definitely one of the best christmas’ yet, and you loved every minute of it.

hiii i really enjoyed writing this, sorry it was so long , i got carried away 😭

but merry christmas to those who celebrate !! i love you all tons and hope you liked this pure fluff imagine !!!

taglist: @cosmicanakin , @lyndys , @kriissy4gov , @leqonsluv3r , @forevergirlposts , @slvthrs , @laylasbunbunny , @lovingsturniolo , @hallecarey1 , @bernelflo , @kayleiggh

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [18]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: self doubt, anxiety, angst

Word Count: 5,514

Updates every Thursday!

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

#18: TALK ABOUT A POWER COUPLE

.

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

.

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

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

“Ih.” Grogu pointed out your door.

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

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

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

“Kitchen.”

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

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

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

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

“Lek.” Grogu chirped.

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was just one problem.

Din would not fuck you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Good.” You praised. “And⏤”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mhmm.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

You chuckled. “Of course.”

But you knew that was far from the truth. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Din nodded. “Sure. That’s fine.”

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

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

“Yes! See you soon!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m back here!”

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

“Hey there, Marshal.” You greeted.

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

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

Maker, you were perfect.

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

“Din?” You questioned.

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

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

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

“You know I do.” You mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Din…” Your lips curled into a smile.

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

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

“I’m sorry.” Din sighed.

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

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

You chuckled. “I… I was scared.”

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

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

“Don’t move.” He mumbled.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“We will.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

taglist:

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

[justagalwhowrites]

Lost & Found: Part of For You - A Collection of Requests Benefitting Palestine

When Grogu wanders off, Din finds him in the arms of an enchanting stranger.

Event Terms: Commissioners could choose to donate between $15 and $50 via Ko-Fi for one fic of 1-2k words to be written by April 1, 2024. Payment due after completion of the fic. Donation with a match by the author was paid to PCRF on April 2, 2024 in honor of Pedro Pascal's birthday ❤️ Commissioners had the option to choose to keep a fic private and all fics may not be shared here.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Curvy!Female!Reader

Warnings: Mild depictions of fantasized sex.No use of Y/N, Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 2.5k

A/N: This is just very soft and very fluffy and is Din being both awkward as hell and jumping at the chance to play the hero for someone who needs it. Love that for us! Written for the exceedingly wonderful and kind and talented @knopes-waffles! Thank you for participating in this event ❤️

For You Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“What do you mean you don’t know.” 

Din was trying very, very hard to keep his temper. 

“I mean, I don’t know, Mando,” Peli replied, hands defiantly planted on her hips. “What did you think I meant?” 

“I thought I might have been mistaken,” he said. “Because I didn’t think you would let my son out of your sight long enough for him to wander off!” 

“It doesn’t take that long….” 

“He’s half a meter tall!” He snapped. “How fast could he be!” 

“He’s quick!” 

He paused and took a deep breath, trying to ignore the rising panic in his blood. 

“You really have no idea where he might have gone,” Din said. “No one could have come in here and taken him.” 

“No one’s been in here,” she said before she paused, frowning. “Well… there was one customer who was looking for someone to fix his speeder…” 

“Do you know where he was going?” Din asked. He tried not to think about some stranger wandering off with Grogu in their arms, taking him away to trade to the Empire or who knows what. 

“I think toward the marketplace,” she said. “He mentioned a farm outside of town, where the speeder was. He was going to tow it in…” 

Din didn’t wait for her to continue. He set off, forcing himself to move slowly enough that he could scan the ground for any sign of Grogu. But there was no flash of green, no little clawed footprints in the sand - the area too heavily trafficked - not even a trail of things he shouldn’t be trying to get is small hands on left abandoned when something else that was bright or shiny caught his eye. 

He kept running and searching, not apologizing for smacking into people or grabbing them roughly to see if what they held in their arms was, in fact, a bag and not his child. He was getting uncomfortably close to a panic - heart pounding, breaths short and shallow, head swimming - when he saw him, Grogu’s small, green body in unfamiliar arms, held close to a plush body. 

“Grogu!” Din stalked over to you, all but ripping the child away from you as he looked him over. “Are you OK?” 

“Hey!” You grabbed Grogu back and Din’s attention shifted from his son to you, his fists clenched. But instead of reaching to take back the kid or hit you, he froze. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting but it wasn’t… you. You were beautiful, almost shockingly so. There was something just so soft about you. Everything on Tatooine was rough and harsh, a lifetime of sand and twin suns and arid heat wore down people and buildings and ships quickly. But not you. You were like a flower that had somehow fought its way up through the sand, lush and bright and full. 

“Do you know this man, little guy?” You considered Grogu carefully, a small frown on your face as you propped the boy on your hip, one of your fingers tightly grasped in his little hand. “Or is he a stranger?” 

“Patu!” Grogu said, throwing his tiny arms out for Din, straining and reaching for him. 

You laughed a little and looked at Din properly then, a smile on your face. 

“Sorry about that,” you said, handing Grogu over. “He just toddled over to my stand a few minutes ago, I wasn’t sure where he came from and I couldn’t understand anything he was saying. I didn’t want someone just taking him…” 

Grogu reached for Din’s helmet, cooing and babbling, gesturing to you before looking back to Din, his dark eyes wide. 

“Thank you,” Din said eventually. “He can be a handful…” 

“I can tell,” you laughed. “He ate a few things off my stand and he was only here a few minutes!” 

“Oh,” DIn said quickly, fumbling for the pouch with his credits. “Let me…” 

“Oh, no,” you said quickly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that you needed to pay! Really, it’s fine. I’m just happy I was able to help him get back to where he belongs.” 

You just stood there, the smile on your face slipping a bit as Din stared at you. Like an idiot. He knew he was staring like an idiot and he couldn’t seem to bring himself to stop. 

“Is… is everything OK?” You were frowning a little now. “I promise, I didn’t hurt him or…” 

“Mando!” Peli ran up alongside him, panting a little before doubling over, planting her hands on her knees. “Stars, just a second… Some of us aren’t used to running like that…” 

“Here,” you said, reaching behind your stand for a canteen and offering it to Peli. Din noticed what you were selling for the first time, fresh fruit piled high in baskets on display. “This might help, the suns are brutal today.” 

“You’re tellin’ me,” she said, gulping the water down and standing up straight again before handing the canteen back to you. “Thanks for that. Looks like you’re the one who found our little friend here!” 

“Oh, I didn’t know he was yours, Peli!” You said. “When did you get a youngling?” 

“He’s not mine, but I keep tellin’ Mando he should just leave the kid with me…” 

“And look what happened when I did,” Din cut her off. “Five minutes and you let him wander off…” 

“It’s not like he got into trouble!” She waved him off. “He just found the sweetest stand in Mos Eisley because he’s so smart, yes he is! Just the smartest little guy! Appreciate you looking out for him, can’t let this cutie run off with just anyone.” 

“It was no trouble,” you replied. “He was a nice way to mix up my day!” 

“Patu!” Grogu said, reaching for you. You laughed and Din sighed before passing the child off to you.

“Have any plans later?” Peli asked. “The kid likes you, you should come by. Have to get time in with the little one when you can, Mando never sticks around for very long.” 

“Well that’s too bad,” you said, bouncing Grogu on your hip but looking at Din. “Always nice to get pleasant folk here in town. But sure, I’ll come by once I close up. Maybe bring him some snacks for the road, would you like that little one?” Grogu cooed and clapped his little hands. You nuzzled his cheek. “I’ll see you later, buddy. Going to give you back to your daddy now.” 

You passed the child to Din and gave him another smile before saying your quick goodbyes to Peli. Din kept looking Grogu over, like he was expecting to find something wrong with him, as he and Peli made their way back to her hanger. He had to resist the urge to look back at you. 

“You’re sure she’s OK to be around the kid?” He asked, finally satisfied that his son was, in fact, safe and whole in his arms. 

“Her?” Peli looked at him like he was insane. “Of course she is, you think I’d let someone around the kid who wasn’t safe? Besides, meant it when I said it’s the sweetest stand in Mos Eisley. It’s not just because of the fruit, if I didn’t know she was from here I’d say she was some naive off-worlder with how sweet she is. Probably how she wound up in the situation she’s in.” 

Din frowned. 

“What situation.” 

“She’s stuck working for the Hutts,” Peli said. “When her father died a few years back - sweet guy, just like her. He built the greenhouses she grows all that fruit in - she didn’t have the money to pay for protection. Next thing she knew, they trashed one of her greenhouses and the moisture vaporator. She still hasn’t been able to fix it all, just about every credit she makes goes to the Hutts so they don’t take anything else.” Peli sighed and shook her head. “Tried to warn her…” 

Din ground his teeth, looking back over his shoulder toward your stand. How could anyone prey on someone like you? Someone so soft and sweet and beautiful and… 

He shook himself mentally. He was not going to stand there and think about you, even though you’d sent a shockwave through him, sparking a kind of want he hadn’t felt in years. It would be so easy to picture it, gently pulling the linen from your body, running his hands - bare, not gloved - over every inch of your plush curves, sinking into the soft, welcoming warmth of you. 

“Has anyone tried to help,” Din asked. “With the Hutts?” 

“I mean, maybe not her specifically, but,” Peli shrugged. “Not like people pay up because they want to, Mando. People have pushed back. It never goes well. Short of taking down the whole operation? No help for it. But that’s life, eh?” 

Din nodded once, holding Grogu a little closer. 

You came by a few hours later, a small basket of fruit propped on your hip and a smile on your face even though your eyes looked distracted. 

“Here you go,” you broadened your smile as you handed the basket to the Mandalorian. “I thought he might like some more. These were what he was eating most of earlier. What’s his name, anyway?” 

“Thank you,” Din said. “And his name is Grogu…” 

“Stupid name!” Peli called from another room. 

“No it’s not!” You called back before looking at the child. “It’s a good, strong name. Perfect for you, hm?” 

“Patu,” Grogu said, his tone serious. You smiled. 

“Thought so,” you said. 

You stayed for dinner - a barely passable soup that you were kind enough to pretend to enjoy - and played sabacc with Din and Peli. Grogu climbed into your lap and you splayed the cards out in front of him, his little hand reaching out to touch them. 

“See, this is a good hand,” you said, leaning in to whisper into his large ear. He kid stretched forward and smacked his hand on one of the cards. “Good pick, that’s a high value card, a whole 10 points…” 

“You’re making it easy to beat you,” Peli said, smirking across the table. 

“Can’t lose when you’ve already won,” you replied. “And which one of us has the youngling in their lap? That would be me.” 

“You’re just new,” Peli waved you off. “He’ll be back to me eventually.” 

“We’ll see about that,” you kissed his little head. “I’ll just keep plying him with fruit, keep him on my good side.” 

“Patu!” 

“Exactly,” you said, and Din was so distracted picturing you aboard the Razor Crest with his son on your lap that he forgot it was his turn. 

As the evening wound down and you got ready to leave, Din had almost convinced himself that he could let you go. It was the only logical choice, after all. You barely knew each other. Just because you were beautiful and gentle and looked like you might be the softest thing he’d ever touch didn’t mean that you belonged anywhere near him. The opposite, in fact. The life he led would be no good for you, it was useless even day dreaming about what couldn’t be. 

You said your goodbyes to him, Peli and Grogu and Din had the unfamiliar ache of longing in his chest as he watched you go, staring at the doorway you’d left through for a few seconds too long. 

“Aw kriff,” Peli groaned. “She left her shawl and I’m wasn’t planning to go to the market tomorrow…” 

“Here,” Din said before he could think better of it, taking the linen wrap from Peli’s grasp. “I’ll catch her. Watch the kid for a minute. And actually watch him this time.” 

“Yeah yeah,” she waved him off before turning her attention to Grogu. “Is your dad just a big shiny menace? Huh? Yeah, I bet he is…” 

He thought he was going to have to track you to catch up with you but, instead, he found you standing in the middle of Peli’s hanger, staring up at the night sky. Stars sparkled over your head, the light reflecting in your eyes, and Din could see the streaks of ships leaving the atmosphere as they shot into the galaxy. You had that distracted look on your face, one worn by people with problems that took time - and muscle - to solve. 

“You forgot this,” Din said, holding the shawl out and making you jump. 

You laughed a little. 

“Thanks,” you said. “I’m not sure where my mind has been lately.” 

You looked back up at the stars, wrapping yourself in the shawl, and sighed in a sad, longing way. 

“What are they like?” You asked, still looking up. “The stars. From up there, I mean.” 

“Far away,” Din said. 

You laughed again. 

“Don’t I know it. Part of why I’ve never made it off-world…” 

Din frowned. 

“You’ve never left Tatooine?” 

You glanced at him, a sad smile on your face before looking back to the stars. 

“Never had the chance,” you said. “But I hope I will, some day. But… doubt I ever will.” 

You looked at him for a moment, your eyes finding his below the vizor. 

“Well, it was good to meet you,” you said. “Take care of that youngling of yours, he’s too sweet to let anything happen to him…” 

You started to leave but he stopped you, his hand shooting out and catching you at your elbow, the contact with you like an electric jolt running through his body. You gasped at it, looking to where he was touching you before looking toward his face again. 

“Mando…” Your voice was quiet, breathy. 

“Do you really want to leave?” He asked before he could stop himself. 

“Yes,” you whispered. “I want to see some of the galaxy, I want to do something I love, I want a life, a life I can’t have here.” 

He could feel it then, a chance at the life he’d pictured, one that had you there with him and his son.

“Come with me,” he said. 

“What?” You laughed a little. “Mando, we just met…” 

“I can get you out of here,” he said, ignoring you. “Make sure the Hutts never bother you again.” 

Your eyebrows knitted together. 

“Did Peli…” 

“Does it matter?” He asked. “I’m offering you a chance to see the stars.” 

“With you?” You asked, your eyes finding his below the visor and he had the thought, again, of undressing you, of touching you, of feeling you in a way he’d never allowed himself to feel anyone else. 

“Yes,” he said. 

“And Grogu?” 

“Yes. We can leave tonight, now, if you want it.” 

You looked up at the stars again, the soft sparkle of their far away light shining on your skin. 

You looked back at him. 

“I want it,” you said quietly. “I want all of it.” 

Din smiled below the helmet. 

“Then let’s go.” ��

[multific]

We Are One

Chapter 2: Going Home

Din Djarin x Reader

Part 1

Summary: He watched you leave him and did nothing. Now, he was a Mandalorian again, he had his son, but he still felt as if something was missing. That something was you. Yet, Din Djarin never expected to find you on a far planet as the bride of the great Duke Leto Atreides.

Sitting on his lap in his new ship, it was tiny.

You tried to move but you couldn’t.

He even told you not to. After you nearly elbowed him in the lungs.

"I missed you." he admitted after a long silence, he pushed a couple of buttons on his ship.

"I like your ship. And I missed you too. I want to tell you that, I only wanted to marry Leto because I needed to forget you. It broke my heart, but I didn't think I had a choice."

"I know. And I am sorry for blaming you. I shouldn't have taken my frustration out on you." now, a lot more comfortable silence fell. "When I found out that you were to marry someone, I couldn't believe it, I wanted to see you but then I decided not to. I lived in this limbo and it made me mad. In the end, the kid made me go. And I'm glad I did. I was worried you wouldn't want to..."

"I wanted nothing more." you put your hand on his helmet and smiled. You looked into his eyes through his visor. "I will always love you, Din Djarin."

You felt his arms tighten around you.

"I love you too, Mesh'la." oh just how you missed him calling you that.

Before heading home, Djarin parked the ship on a planet. One that you loved very much.

A planet so colourful and lively.

You got out of the ship and walked towards the nearby lake. Djarin followed you. He stopped behind you as you watched the lake. 

"I always wanted to tell you about myself. After I started trusting you, I just wanted to tell you but then, Grogu and everything happened."

"The kid misses you very much. As much as I did."

"I don't doubt that. I missed you two as well."

"I never cared about who you were, Jedi or not."

"I am no Jedi. I took no vow to be one. It would have meant to let go of my feelings for you and I would have never been able to do that." 

"I took my vows again, I am a Mandalorian once more, but right now, I wish for nothing more but to take this helmet off and kiss you."

You smiled as you turned and looked at him. 

"Forever the romantic."

"Later, when it's only us, in the darkest room, with your eyes closed. I am sorry, but that is the best I can do."

"Even if you would never kiss me in my entire life, I would still be happy just to be with you."

"Be my wife."

"I would love to." he rushed over to you and held your hands in his. 

"Marry me, right here."

"I would love to." you whispered and he began the simple vow.

"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors." He said, loud and clear, and you repeated right after him.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out a simple ring made of beskar. 

He placed it upon your finger and you gave him a look.

"I had this made long before I made you leave me. I kept it ever since, I'm glad now it has found its rightful place."

You pulled him down by the helmet and placed a kiss on his head. The beskar was cold against your lips, but you could imagine how warm he felt inside.

"Can we go and see our son?" Djarin's heart nearly jumped out upon hearing the word, our.

He nodded and walked you back to his ship.

The two of you soon landed near his house.

Your home.

You got out of the ship and rushed to hug Grogu, the little boy happy to see you, immediately started to tell you everything that happened.

And you told him just as much.

Later that day, you sat down to eat and you felt so happy. You had your family now and no one will take it from you ever again, you trained enough to make sure of that.

Djarin smiled under his helmet, seeing his Clan be happy and content, made him at ease.

Now, his house was truly a home.

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

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

[dincrypt]

Dad and The Dog

Summary: This.

Content: Fluff. Puppy antics.

Note: Re posting my most popular fic since I’ve decided to emerge from hibernation lol

“If it pisses on my floor once, it's gone.”

A tiny gasp escaped the mouth of your son, his already enormous eyes stretching with concern. You round on Din, bringing a protective hand over the mouth of Grogu’s pod.

“Din,” you chastise, not at all gentle. “Don’t say that! She’s a puppy, accidents are bound to happen!”

From behind your hand, a fuzzy white head popped out, panting so hard it looked like a smile, and barked in Din’s direction. Grogu gave a little cry and tugged his new pet back into the safety of the pod.

Your family was heading back to your ship after an eventful and productive trip to the market, all of you - except for one - ecstatic with the results.

“It’s going to get big you know,” Din pointed out, not even turning around as he stalked forward.

“The man said she’s an Anooba cross. She’ll be smaller than normal,” you countered, reaching back to rub a pair of perky white ears. Grogu grabbed handfuls of her fur protectively as he eyed Din, face somewhere between an adorable attempt at intimidation and a downright pout.

You could hear Din grumbling under his breath, pressing a control on his vambrace as you approached the ship. “Sure, crossed with a Massiff for all we know…”

You ignored him to help Grogu and his new puppy climb out of the pod. Two sets of miniature feet took off up the ramp. She immediately set about exploring her new home, nose to the floor as she ran in a zigzag, tiny owner right on her heels.

“Hey, keep that thing contained,” Din snapped as he followed them, pressing a button to close the hatch.

You sighed and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Hey,” you tried softly, hoping to diffuse the frustration clearly boiling under that armor. “Why are you being like that? I thought you liked dogs?”

“I do,” he argued. “Just not in a small space full of important things that can be chewed or peed on.”

“I’m sure your five crates of sonic charges can handle a little puppy teeth,” you said with an eye roll.

Din tilted his head, and years of reading a blank visor told you of his exasperation. You smiled and reached up to pull his helmet off, revealing the long suffering frown you expected. Setting it aside, you placed soft hands on his cheeks, running your thumbs back and forth.

“Come on. He needs this. Didn’t you just say a while back it would be nice for him to have someone his own size to play with?” As you spoke, a chorus of barks and delighted coos rang in the background.

Din’s shoulders drooped and his brows furrowed. “Yes! But I meant…” he gestured between the two of you, “I meant a sibling.”

“Well, think of this as like…a stepping stone to that. First he gets a puppy. Then a sibling.”

“Why the hell does there need-“

A loud crash cut him off, and he spun around to see Grogu and his pup sprawled on the floor, the contents of Din’s tool box scattered around them. The puppy clambered to her feet and pounced on Grogu, lavishing his face with wet kisses which he accepted in pure delight. Din frowned deeply and turned back to you.

“Why does there need to be a stepping stone? I don’t see how a puppy will prepare him for a sibling.”

With a gentle sigh and shake of your head, you leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. “It makes him happy. Isn’t that enough?”

You didn’t wait for a response, instead tapping his face gently with your palm before leaving to help Grogu pick up his mess. Din watched you, confusion and frustration etched into his scowl. The puppy bounced around your feet as you bent to gather the tools, giving each one an experimental gnaw.

With the smallest sneer and the slightest huff, Din retreated to the cockpit for what he expected to be his last ounce of peace for a very, very long time.

~

Code Red. Code. Kriffing. Red.

Or, technically, code yellow.

Grogu was hysterical. Sucking in enormous breaths faster than his little lungs could handle, cries piercing through the hull as he pointed at the puddle that managed to be directly next to the absorbing pads. You were on your knees in front of him, desperately trying to reach through the panic.

“Hey, hey, calm down baby it's alright.” You held his face and wiped the little tears away. He continued to sniffle. “Look at me.” You held him more firmly, eyes on his. “Daddy didn’t mean what he said, ok? He’s not going to take your puppy. I promise.”

That managed to break through, barely. With another deep breath, his cries lessened.

“And even if he did - which he didn’t - all we’d have to do is this…” You reached for the absorbing pad and placed it over the mess, promptly wiping away every ounce of evidence. “See? He’d never even know.” You smiled and winked playfully.

Grogu stared blankly at the pad, then looked at you, mouth turning up in an adorable grin. You laughed and looked around for the offender, who had ducked into hiding the moment her owner started to cry.

“Verd’ika?” You called. The choice of a Mandoa name was not coincidental. Though you suspected the attempt of endearing her to Din had accomplished very little.

She appeared hesitantly from behind a cargo box, puffy tail between her legs, back spines laid flat. You gave her a sympathetic, yet stern look.

“Verd’ika, you know what you did, don’t you?”

She scurried over to Grogu, burying her face in his cloak and refusing to look at you. Grogu hugged her, not contributing at all to your attempt at discipline. With a defeated sigh, you gathered up the soiled pads and tossed them in the incinerator.

“I suppose you’re beating yourself up enough already.” You bent down and stroked her head. Then looked at Grogu. “Go get the cleaner sweetheart. Let’s make sure the floor is nice and clean before daddy gets home.”

He nodded urgently and waddled off, his ever-present white shadow following.

~

Clan Djarin’s newest edition managed to have multiple accidents throughout the day. No matter how many treats you placed on the pads, no matter how highly you praised and encouraged every time she sniffed them, something about cold metal apparently made it the ideal location for relief. The floor was scrubbed spotless by the time Din returned.

He removed his helmet with narrowed eyes, carbonite chamber still humming with the acquisition of his newest bounty. You appeared from the bunk, all smiles.

“Welcome back dear, how’d it go?”

“Fine...” he answered slowly, eyeing the floor.

You swept yourself into his arms and kissed him, hoping to redirect that concerning gaze. He kissed you back, absently, and you could tell his eyes were open, still fixed on the floor. You put your hands around his neck and kissed him a little harder.

Unfortunately, it only served to make him more suspicious. He pulled away from you with a frown.

“It peed on the floor didn’t it?”

“It’s a she,” you corrected.

“She peed on the floor.”

“I have no idea what you-“

You were spared the completion of your lie by Grogu’s entrance. He waddled to his dad with outstretched arms, smiling. Din bent down to accept him, throwing an uncertain glare at his snow colored companion.

“Hey buddy,” Din said softly as he lifted his kid. Verd’ika pawed at his boot. “Anything exciting happen today?”

Grogu drew his lips in and shook his head. Din glanced between both of you, brows raised in an expression of innocence and wonder. “Really? Nothing at all?”

Two heads shook in confirmation. Din looked down at his feet. “How about you?” He said to Verd’ika, “Anything to confess?”

Verd’ika barked once, front paws sliding forward as her rump lifted in the air, tail whirring. “Is that so?” Din looked to you in mock surprise. “She says she peed on the floor today.”

You gasped and snatched the puppy up, holding her out in front of you with an accusatory glare. “Verd’ika, how could you? Lying to your father that way!” You turned her around in your arms to face Din. “Tell him the truth Verd’ika, tell him what a good girl you’ve been.”

She barked once more, squirming as she craned her neck back to nip at your chin.

“That’s better. See Din?”

Disbelief dripped from his features. Thankfully, instead of pushing the argument, he just rolled his eyes and brushed past you on his way to the cockpit, Grogu still in his arms.

Before he could take another step, Grogu let out a cry of protest, reaching behind him for Verd’ika. Din sighed and turned around, bringing him close enough to scoop the puppy from your arms.

You watched with an unabashed grin as your riduur clambered up the ladder, arms full of squirming dog and child.

~

Nights on the ship were peaceful.

Rather, the artificially timed darkness designed to preserve some semblance of a circadian rhythm while deep in hyperspace, was peaceful.

Din was a light sleeper, and still not used to extended lengths of inactivity, even with the balance you brought to his life. It wasn’t unusual to find him missing from your bed throughout the night, fiddling with whatever mundane task he picked up in an attempt to quiet his mind.

After waking up for a second time to find him gone, you decided to go looking for him. When the usual tinkering couldn’t do the trick, more often than not your voice could, a few sweet words of encouragement lulling him back into bed.

The cockpit was the first place you checked. He found something soothing in the gentle, repetitive nature of flying the ship, even when it wasn’t necessary. Sometimes it was all he needed to relax enough to allow him to sleep. Other times, he needed you.

You found him there, unsurprisingly. As you crested the ladder you caught sight of his head above the pilots seat, brown locks messy with unsuccessful sleep, shoulders moving with what little effort flying through clear space required.

What did surprise you, was the white ball of fur at his feet, staring up at him.

Din was speaking. Quietly. You stayed on the ladder, tilting your head to hear him better.

“I’m not giving you any,” he grumbled, and with a glance to the side you realized he was talking about the package of jerky pieces he was snacking on. “Quit asking.”

Verd’ika let out a small whine, reaching forward to paw his socked foot. Din looked down at her. “What? I said no.”

She didn’t let up. Her head creeped forward, eyes on Din’s face. Her lips quivered with a barely muted bark.

“Ssh!” He snapped, finger to his lips. “They’re sleeping.”

You covered your mouth to contain the laugh bubbling in your chest. For someone who claimed to not be interested in this dog, he sure was having quite the conversation with her.

“Alright, look, here,” He retrieved a piece of jerky and tossed it in her direction. Verd’ika snatched it right out of the air, swallowing it whole.

“Hey…” Din said, tone just on the edge of impressed. “Good job.”

She licked her lips and tossed her head up. He shook his head. “Now you’re just pushing it.”

She insisted, once again batting at his feet with a string of quiet whines. Din growled and grabbed the package. “Fine, but you’re gonna have to work for it. I don’t suppose they’ve actually been training you, have they?” He held a piece of jerky up above her head. “Sit.”

She cocked her head at him, ears pricked, and slapped her tongue across her jowls. Din sighed.

“Didn’t think so.” He scooted forward in the pilots chair, setting the package aside but still holding a piece in front of her. He reached forward to place his other hand on her back, at the base of her tail. “Look Verd’ika, sit.”

He pushed her rump down to the floor as he said the word, her eyes still glued to the jerky. “Good girl!” He gave her the meat and she scarfed it greedily, immediately standing back up.

“No, you’re not supposed to-“ he started, reaching for another piece. “Alright come here, lets try again…”

With a grin, you turned and headed back down the ladder before he saw you.

~

You woke up to the sound of Din loudly calling your name.

“Come here! Bring Grogu!”

Your knee-jerk, sleep soaked reaction was panic. Only when he called you again and you heard the laughter in his voice were you able to calm down, slipping out of bed with a groan. You found Grogu in a similar state, groggy eyed as he rolled out of bed at the sound of his father’s voice. You picked him up and headed for the cockpit just as Din called you for a third time.

“We’re coming!” You answered, trying to keep the irritation from your voice.

Your steps were heavy up the ladder as sounds of barking and a few low chuckles reached your ears. In the cockpit, you found Din standing with Verd’ika in front of him, a handful of jerky in his palm as she watched him with rapt attention. He smiled at you as you entered.

“Watch this,” he said excitedly, holding up a treat. Verd’ika stood at attention.

“Sit!”

Immediately, her behind sunk to the floor. Din glanced at you, looked pleased at your impressed smile, then turned back to the puppy.

“Lay.”

Her paws slid the rest of the way down until her belly touched the floor.

“Good girl!” He tossed her the treat, which she inhaled.

“Did you see that buddy?” Din asked his wide-eyed boy. Grogu smiled with a happy sounding gurgle. Din walked over and took him from your arms, Verd’ika barely a step behind. “She’s pretty clever huh?”

You nodded your agreement, watching as Din placed a treat into Grogu’s palm. “You wanna try? Give it to her when-“

The second the meat touched his hand, Grogu tossed it to Verd’ika. Din stuttered half a movement at grabbing it, stopping short as it disappeared into a set of sharp white fangs, gone. He dropped his head before turning to Grogu.

“No buddy, after she listens, ok?”

Two dark eyes stared blankly at him, blinking once. Din held up another treat. “You hold it. I’ll tell her what to do. When she listens, give it to her. Ok?” He hesitantly placed the meat into Grogu’s waiting palm.

This time, he held it. Din nodded and looked to Verd’ika. “Sit.”

She sat. Grogu dropped the meat and it promptly disappeared.

“There you go! Good job buddy!” He bent down to pat the puppy’s head, “Good girl Verd’ika!”

You laughed delightedly and squeezed his shoulder. “Glad you two are finally getting along.”

Din shrugged nonchalantly, not quite meeting your eye. “Well...she’s finally listening.”

“Suuuure,” you droned, reaching down to pick her up. “And I’m sure her being completely adorable has nothing to do with it, right?” You held her out in presentation, and Verd’ika cocked her head as she looked at Din, as though attempting to contribute to your point.

He rolled his eyes and fought a smile, then tugged you forward to place a kiss on your forehead. “Well,” he leaned down to kiss Grogu as well, “I suppose it’s no secret I have a weakness for adorable things.”

~

The grocery bag was heavier than the last time you slung it over your shoulder.

Your eyes narrowed as you adjusted the strap, immediately knowing who the culprit was. Or rather, culprits.

You turned around in the middle of the dusty market street, eyeing your riduur and son, who stopped short behind you. Any time they came along on shopping trips, they had a habit of ganging up on you, flooding your limited carrying space with useless treats. That’s why you were the only one who got to carry the grocery bag anymore.

At the sight of your glare, Din tilted his helmet in question.

“What did you two sneak in here?” You asked, jostling the strap over your shoulder. Grogu’s mouth dropped and he looked to his father.

“Nothing,” Din said easily.

“Its heavier than it was a few minutes ago.”

“Aww, then I’ll carry it for you cyare,” he reached for the bag but you took a step back.

“No no, I’m simply giving you a chance to come clean before I open it up and find out.”

Din exchanged a look with Grogu, then shrugged at you. You gave them a final warning glare before peering down into the bulging sack at your side. In it, a top your own selections of spices and balanced ration meals, sat two sleeves of cookies and three packages of jerky. You looked back up to see Din peering over, as if he too was curious of the contents.

“Huh.”

“Huh indeed,” you droned, pure sarcasm. “Wonder where those came from.” Din’s helmet rumbled with a low chuckle and you smiled. “That’s a lot of jerky. I don’t think Verd’ika can eat it all.”

“It’s for me,” Din said immediately.

You dropped your head incredulously. “Really? Three packages just for you?”

“Yep.”

“And you’re not gonna give any to her?”

He shrugged. “Well, maybe if she’s good. But it's not for her.”

You made sure he could see every ounce of disbelief on your face before turning and leading the way back home.

He never did admit it. Just as you never admitted to waking up that night and hearing him in the cockpit, voice scarcely above a whisper through the faint sounds of a crinkling bag,

“Verd’ika. Look what I got you.”

~

Week five of life with a puppy came, and there was hair on your bed. Short, white, unmistakably canine, and only on Din’s side. You stared at it, smirk growing at the same time your eyes narrowed. You called for Din and he poked his head into your quarters.

“What’s this?” You asked sweetly, gesturing to the fur scattered on the sheets.

He peered at it suspiciously. “What’s what?”

“This dog hair. Did you have Verd’ika on our bed?”

“No,” he said quickly. A little too quickly.

You placed your hands on your hips. You didn’t mind if she slept in the bed with you, not at all. But the fact that he was being sneaky about it and clearly trying to hide it, made teasing him simply irresistible. “Really? Then how did it get here? Only on your side?”

He shrugged. “She must have snuck up there at some point.”

“Ah. Well then,” you took a step toward the door, “I suppose I should get on to her.”

“No!” He stopped you with a firm hand on your shoulder. You gave him a look of utter bafflement and he retracted, cheeks flushing pink. “I mean...it’s too late now. You have to catch them in the act. She won’t understand.”

“Ah...I see...” you nodded as though the thought was very wise. “In that case I’ll just keep a better eye on her then.”

He returned your nod, just as serious but no more convincing. “Good. Me too.”

You didn’t.

The hair returned most mornings. No matter how many times you settled Verd’ika next to Grogu in his bed, there was almost always a fresh batch of fur waiting for you. It was always less than that first time, and you recognized the signs of an unsuccessful attempt at brushing it away. The stubborn stragglers were his downfall.

Rather than confront him again, you decided to let it slide. He wasn’t going to come clean any time soon.

~

After several months of living with a Verd’ika and a Din who insisted his tolerance of her was minimal, he dropped a shocking statement over dinner one night.

“I was thinking I might start some extra training with Verd’ika.”

You froze. Eyebrows raised, fork halfway in your mouth. You lowered it slowly to answer him. “What kind of training?”

Grogu had also perked up at the mention of his pet’s name, long ears pointed in Din’s direction. Below the table, a shuffle of paws told you Verd’ika had heard it too.

Din swallowed a mouthful of soup, then spoke nonchalant as ever, “Thought she may have the potential to be a good guard dog. For when I’m gone. It’d be nice to know there’s someone looking after you two.”

Your grin was determined, but you smothered it down, cheeks aching and pulling. It had taken barely any time for Din to go from “one accident and she’s gone” to, “I would like to leave those I love most in the care of this creature.” The thought was nearly too much for your heart to bear.

“It’s a good idea love, but do you think she’ll be big enough?”

He nodded. “Anooba’s get big. And I don’t buy what that vendor said for a second. He probably just heard me complain that we wouldn’t have room.” As he spoke, he tore off a piece of his bread and slowly lowered it beneath the table. You heard the smacking of lips below, followed by the reappearance of his empty hand.

Grogu, ever the imitator, did the same. A set of four eager paws skittered over your feet on their way to the little green hand holding out bread under the table.

“Keep that up and she’s going to be too fat to guard anything,” you laughed, even as you tore off a piece of your own bread for her.

Din scowled in offense. “Of course not. She’ll just build muscle.” He tilted his head to look under the table. “Isn’t that right Verd’ika?”

A muffled, bread-filled bark answered him in confirmation.

~

When you were little, you had been certain that a litter of loth cats someone had dropped off outside your home were the most adorable thing you had ever, and would ever, see. Six little bundles of multicolored fur, mewling and crying until you had warmed and fed each one. They held the top spot on your cute rank for years.

Then you met Din. Six foot with his helmet on, covered in armor, who hunted down criminals for a living. He immediately over took the loth kittens in terms of adorable. Next you met your son, and the two had been neck and neck ever since.

But this. This took the cake. Nothing in the universe would ever be cuter. You’d stake your life on it.

Din was on his knees, in the middle of a field on some grass planet you couldn’t remember the name of. His arm was wrapped up in one of his shirts, encouraging a confused Verd’ika to bite him while Grogu stood to the side, treats at the ready. Late afternoon breeze whipped through the fur of all three, white, brown, and sparse.

“Come on sweetheart, just like last time,” Din cooed. “Edeemir!” Bite.

Verd’ika dropped down on her front paws and tossed her butt in the air, tail whipping. Din sighed and shook his head with a smile.

“Your name is little warrior. Act like it.”

He started at her, arm jerking forward in a mock attack. Verd’ika barked in delight and lunged, chomping down on his padded forearm with all the force her little jaws held.

“Good girl!” Din praised loudly. On cue, Grogu stepped forward with a treat. “That’s a clever girl, good job sweetheart!” He petted her back and scratched behind her ears as Grogu babbled his own sounds of praise, stumbling forward to pet his puppy.

You shook your head with a laugh. At this rate, your only worry was that Verd’ika would begin biting people randomly in anticipation of her treat and praise parade.

“Are you sure that’s the best method dear?” You asked.

Din looked up at you with a bright smile, still petting Verd’ika. “Of course.”

“I’m just worried she’s going to start biting and thinking she’ll be rewarded for it.”

He shook his head. “No no, she’s learning to bite on command. She’ll only be rewarded if she does it when told.”

You grimaced uncertainly. “Alright, if you say so…”

They practiced and played until the sun fell low in the sky. With the short attention span of both younglings, it didn’t take long for anything resembling training to fade into games of fetch and chase.

Eventually you found yourself darting through thick grass, Verd’ika at your side. Behind you, Grogu held onto Din’s back as they gave chase, strong arms reaching out as they ran. You laughed and screamed as his fingertips brushed you, pushing harder with a dodge to the left. Verd’ika contributed by running as close to your feet as possible, jumping up to snap your clothes at every opportunity.

Inevitably, he caught you. Your run came to an abrupt halt in his vice like grip, a strong chest at your back as you screamed in the happiest way. Din pulled all three of you onto the grass in a heap of limbs and laughter. Grogu crawled up to Din’s chest, holding his arms out for Verd’ika as she launched into the fray. Din huffed and groaned dramatically as her heavy paws pounded onto his chest.

As your laughter faded into uneven breaths, one of your hands reached up to pet Verd’ika, the other sneaking into Din’s hair. He rolled his head to the side and looked at you, face framed by deep green blades, smile the brightest you’d ever seen it, dimpled cheeks flushed with exertion. Above you, your son clung to his puppy, smiling at his parents.

The sunset warming your body was ice compared to the warmth sprouting from your heart.

~

You stayed awake a little longer that night, hoping to finally catch visual proof of what you already knew was happening once you drifted off to sleep. After kissing Din goodnight, you turned with your back to him, waiting a few minutes before intentionally letting your breaths deepen and slow.

You expected him to get up, and return with her. Instead you were surprised when, after several long minutes of anticipation, you heard a faint scratch at the door, followed by it sliding open. There were foot taps on metal, then a dip in the mattress. Din murmured a greeting and you covered your mouth with your hand to contain a laugh.

She was trained alright. Like clockwork.

Slowly, hoping to catch him unawares, you turned. In the darkness you could make out Din’s back, a pair of snow white ears perking behind his shoulder.

You reached over carefully until your hand brushed his spine. Din inhaled sharply and stiffened. Caught. With a smile, you closed the distance between you, bringing your chest against him as your hand slipped around his ribcage to pet Verd’ika’s soft head.

“Softie,” you whispered in his ear. You kissed his cheek and felt him smile.

“Me?” He mumbled in a sleep-tainted voice, “Never.”

You grinned and kissed him again just as the door slid open for a second time. You looked up to see Grogu in the threshold, no doubt in search of his missing puppy. With a wave, you beckoned him over.

Din leaned across Verd’ika to lift Grogu on the bed, then rolled to face you, bringing both babies with him. Sheets shuffled as you scooted back to give them room, Grogu settling next to Din as he held onto Verd’ika, her soft back curling against your stomach. Four sets of slow breath filled the air, quiet and content.

Din’s eyes met yours across the pillows, warmth and love etched across the face you adored, his hand traveling back and forth between his son and his dog before finally settling on his riduur.

You both reached across the narrow space that separated you, holding onto each other, your universe safe and sleeping in the warmth of your embrace.

[sofasoap]

Nightmare

Pairing : Din Djarin x GN!Reader + Grogu

Summary: Din's biggest nightmare is losing his family, his clan, losing you.

kind of set after Grogu comes back from Jedi training, and let's just pretend Din still got Razor Crest or bought a similar size ship. Starfighter is just too.... SMALL! Warning: M rating ,strong languages. English is my 2nd language, not beta'ed either, so I apologise for any mistakes. You are responsible for your own media consumption. Please don't enter if you are under 18 or of legal age in your country and turn around NOW. minors DNI. A/N: For @deakyjoe again. I promised her if she did her Uni work I will write something lol. Here it is.

MASTERLIST

"I am leaving." Din's hand froze. He slowly look up from the blaster he was cleaning. " I don't think I can do this anymore Mando." Shaking your head. " I am sick of this... fighting, and this, " waving your hands around, " I am sick of being trapped inside all the time, in this enclosed space." His hands start to shake. He open his mouth, but no sound is coming out.

"I want to settle down... not hiding from the enemy all the time, and this is not a good environment to bring up the younglings!" Turning towards your cot, you pick up your bag and started stuffing your belongs into it.

"And this bullshit of creed, not showing your face, and Oh, they ditch you even though you are the holder of darksaber just because you showed your face to outsider?" You rolled your eyes.

Din try to argue, still, he couldn't make a sound. As if someone has taken his voice away from him.

" So you got nothing to say to me Mando? Not even going to try and persuade me?" Sighing as you walk past him, picking up Grogu as you head out of the ship. " I am taking Grogu with me. I hope this is the last time I see you, DIN DJARIN." You spatted out his name, not even looking back and walked off into the forest.

Din screamed as he sat up from his bunk. Sweat completely drenching his body. Totally disorientate he turn on the night light beside his head and look around. It's too quiet. Usually he hears sounds of you walking around the ship, doing chores or fixing things, or little cooing sound of Grogu, and you telling him off for being a mischief. The fear surface again, was that nightmare real?? and I am just replaying the episode again and again in my mind ? Quickly donning his helmet, not even bothering with rest of his armour, he stepped out from his tiny bunker. No one in the cargo area, refresher empty. Climbing up towards the cockpit, not a trace of you two.

Lastly checking your bunk space, blanket folded neatly, your bag is missing. Din feel likes he was about to have a breakdown. He couldn't imagine his life without you. Without the little Munchkin. His clan of three. He hasn't even confess his feeling to you yet. Rushing to putting his armour on, he set out to find you two. Guessing you two haven't made it too far, there is still a chance. Just as he was about to step out, the cargo hold landing door opened up. And there's you, with his son tucked away in one of the bag, holding some sort of sweet pastry in his hand, and your backpack on your back and another satchel full of groceries and supplies. The two of you were giggling and laughing, as if sharing a joke. " OH! Mando, you are awake!" You greeted to him as you spotted him standing by the entrance. Din rush up towards you, pull you into an embrace. " Mando...are you OK?" You still haven't change your habit of calling him Mando. Even though you heard his real name already through Moff Gideon. You thought Din haven't given you the permission to use his name, you will stick with calling him Mando. Letting out a shaky breath. " Where did you guys go?" " We went out for supply run, it was such a good weather and you mention this area and town is relatively safe... So I thought I take Grogu for a stroll." putting down one of the side satchel and Grogu force jumped out from the bag. "Sorry I didn't wake you up. You were in such a deep sleep and you haven't had a good rest for last few weeks.. So I thought I'll let you be." You replied apologetically and gave him a squeeze. " Come on. I bought some of your favourite fruits. Turns out they had a very good harvest this year on this planet. I can make them into ration bar and preserves, so you won't need to hunt for them for a long time." You smiled at him. Just as you about to turn away and head back into the ship, Din moved his hand, cupping your face and pull you head in, lightly touching his forehead. "Man.. Mando?" Your face heating up. "Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Cyare..." He whispered back. You closed your eyes. Enjoying this intimate moment. "That's a new word...what does it mean Mando?" " I'll tell you one day... not now.. but one day."

"....and please.. call me Din." ".. Din." The sound of his name , so sweet and loving coming out from your mouth. Din felt someone tugging his pants and little coo sound. " I think he feels left out." You laughed. Din let go of you, bending down to pick his son up and gave him a little knock forehead to forehead.

" Come on, let's go help your buir to put away the groceries." Din commented. " that's ANOTHER new word Din... what does it mean? You got to start teaching me some Mando'a soon.. otherwise I would think you two are talking behind my back! " You said half jokingly. ".. It means parent." You raised your eyebrow as he explain it to you. You stood there for a moment as the two boys walk up the plank back into the ship. Took you few second to understand the implication, his words, and his action from before. Your heart flutters. Maybe.. Just maybe? That little hope and desire you have tucked away starting to rise.

".. I thought you two left me.. " " Never Din... We will never leave you. I will never leave you. Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. "

I know its a common joke and meme how he is technically the holder of Darksaber and they just flick him away like that.. unless they come up with a good reason.. to me it's just a major plot hole. Thank you for reading, liking and reblogs!

[danaewrites]

Helmet Over Heels

part ii: metal man with a backup plan

din djarin x reader // read it on AO3

word count: 6.4k

summary:  When your path literally collides with a beskar-covered Mandalorian one night, neither of you expect how that meeting will irreversibly change the trajectory of your lives. 

You’re pulled into his powerful orbit, agreeing to take care of his son in exchange for adventure and freedom– when he’s not off hunting bounties and inadvertently saving villages in need, that is. It’s the perfect plan. Or it would be, if only your quiet crush on the man would stop growing into something more with every hour you spend together. There’s no way he’d ever feel the same, right?

And Din? Well, he’s been trying (and failing) to convince himself that he’s not completely helmet over heels for you since day one. But a Mandalorian can only repress his emotions for so long…

(This fic takes place sometime after Season 2. Din’s back on his bounty-hunting business with a Razor Crest that was never destroyed and an adorable green sidekick who won’t stop chewing on its wires.)

tags: strangers to friends to lovers, slow-ish burn, nicknames, touch-starved din djarin and fem!reader, canon-compliant through season 2 and then Jesus takes the wheel :P

author's notes:

i think this fic set a writing record for me lol (10.2k words in two weeks? with a regular posting schedule?! unheard of!) many more chapters to come... i have so much planned for these two <3

read it all here: part i, part ii, part iii, part iv, part v coming soon!

You didn’t see the Mandalorian again for weeks.

You weren’t missing him, exactly. Sure, the droning noise of your coworkers’ voices seemed just a bit more dull in comparison to the baby’s sweet giggles, and Maker knew none of your regulars were ever up for lively banter, but rule number one in this galaxy was to never get too attached. Especially to mysterious strangers who left quicker than you could say ‘mudscuffer’ and more likely than not would stay gone. Despite knowing that, your foolish imagination hadn’t received the memo, and you kept finding yourself wondering what the beskar-plated man and his tiny son were doing somewhere out there in space. His ship must have been fixed, since you hadn’t seen any unfamiliar spacecraft when you strolled past Sanna’s shop the other day. In a temporary moment of weakness, you wished you knew what it looked like so you could casually fish for information about it from off-planet travelers at the cantina. Then again, asking questions could bring unwanted attention to the odd pair, so perhaps it was better for all of you that your curiosities remained unsolved. 

You’d woken up the morning after the storm to an empty cantina with every doorway blocked by two metres of snow. You weren’t sure how he’d managed to get out without disturbing the squeaky hinges of the shutters, but the Mandalorian had left the place completely untouched except for the bag of credits–far heavier than you deserved– on the bar. Your eyes had widened to the size of the two empty soup bowls next to it when you counted how much was in the pouch. Kriff, what sort of cosmic royalty was he, with this much money to spare on a cantina waitress? You remembered the bright glint of his armor in the moonlight, belatedly recognizing the characteristic sign of pure-cast metal. Beskar alloys were far from cheap, but pure beskar? If you had so much as a thimble-sized piece of it, you could afford passage off this planet fifteen times over. You huffed out a breath, shaking your head with a tiny smile. Well, that meant that he definitely still had enough saved to take care of the kid after his not-so-small gift, so you grudgingly allowed yourself to enjoy having a few extra credits for once.

The credits he’d left you weren’t enough to buy a ride off-world, but they’d pay for this month’s heating bill and a nicer set of clothes while you put the rest of your paycheck towards a future ticket. The extra money emboldened you to go shopping for the first time since you arrived on Nath– which was why you were currently weaving through the narrow streets of the Solstice Market, hoping to find a decent textile shop amongst the booths that lined this alley. You brushed past the promenade of young couples holding hands despite the cold (as well as significantly more haggard-looking spouses holding pouty children), awed by how the bright colours and loud haggling around you seemed to brighten Nath’s dreary atmosphere for a moment.

Your steps slowed to an abrupt stop as you heard a quiet chiming coming from your left. You turned to see a pocket-sized holospeaker sitting on a rickety display table, shaped like a mildly deformed egg and covered in twisting silver filigree. The booth worker looked hopeful as you eyed the far more impressive–and expensive–metalworks arranged in front of the small item, but quickly slumped back to dazed boredom as your fingers traced the rounded object instead. The speaker was dented and each note vibrated for slightly too long, but the melody it produced reminded you of the Odalian lullabies your mother had sung to you as a child. Stars, you hadn’t realized how much you’d missed her voice, soothing you with ballads of true love and tragedy until you fell asleep with the stories etched into your dreams. You blinked back the water that threatened to fill your eyes as you hummed along to the soft music, love and grief welling up between your ribs with a gentle ache. 

That was how the Mandalorian found you– eyes half-closed, your head gently bent toward the tiny instrument. You were so lost in your memories that you didn’t register his awkward presence until a tiny green hand poked your side. You gasped, instincts learned from years of working in a rowdy cantina kicking in as you reflexively threw a punch at the offending party. The Mandalorian immediately shifted to shield the giggling child, a move that was good for the kid’s health but rather unfortunate for your knuckles. 

“Kriff, metal man, you could’ve said something,” you wheezed out, rubbing your throbbing hand where it’d met unforgiving beskar. The kid gurgled happily up at you from his position in the bag. Apparently, your newest injury was the most amusing thing he’d seen all day. 

You pouted exaggeratedly at him, reaching to ruffle the wiry hair that floated above his floppy ears with affection. “Sorry about that, bug. Didn’t think I’d see you again,” you spoke softly, giving his very shiny father a subtle once-over in the daylight. The Mandalorian was taller and broader than you’d remembered from that dark night in the cantina– something that definitely did not cause your stomach to twist with interest. His armor appeared to have been polished sometime recently, and you stole a moment to admire the pride with which he wore the gleaming beskar. The effort he’d put in to maintain the parts of his appearance that were visible to the outside world was obvious (and strangely attractive, if you were being honest.) You briefly wondered whether he was as well-kept underneath the armor, but realized your mistake when that question brought a whole host of dangerous ideas to mind. Stars, why did you continually do this to yourself? You immediately shoved any daydreams of what he might look like behind that helmet somewhere far, far away lest a traitorous flush reappear on your cheeks. 

“I need to talk to you,” the Mandalorian in question stated, distracting you from your quickly-spiraling thoughts. You glanced up at him inquisitively but allowed him to steer you away from the busy crowds. 

“Nice to see you, too,” you grumbled once you had reached a reasonable distance away from the market. “What happened to hello, how are you, sorry I left and didn’t even leave a note saying how I got past the shutter locks.”

The Mandalorian turned to face you, cocking his head. “I left you the credits, didn’t I?”

You opened your mouth, retort poised on the tip of your tongue, but then thought better of it. Probably not a good idea to risk the generosity that brought you to this market in the first place. “Okay, you win that one.” 

The Mandalorian ignored your rare moment of surrender, rolling his shoulders back and stepping closer to you in a fluid movement that had more of an effect on you than you wanted to admit. “I need you to look after the kid.”

O-kayy then. Straight to business. 

“I have a job here, I can’t take him with me– it's too dangerous.” 

“A job?” Your brows furrowed as you considered what work he could possibly be doing here. People here either worked in the ice fishing huts or in one of Nath’s many depressingly ugly oil processing factories, and neither of those occupations seemed right for the intimidating man in front of you. You crossed your arms, only partially teasing. “You mean you have things to do besides scaring innocent waitresses half-out of their skin?”

The Mandalorian scanned the area around you, then subtly pulled a small metal object out of the leather holster slung around his hips. You leaned over to see the unmistakable blinking red light of a tracking fob resting in the palm of his dark glove. 

Oh. That explained the money, then. Bounty hunting— through the Guild, if the emblem on the device was anything to go by— had shot up in popularity after the Empire fell and the New Republic needed good mercenaries to capture the remaining Imperial loyalists. You’d bet a decent amount of credits that this hunter wouldn’t balk at capturing a few Imps, with the way he’d spat out the name of the Empire as if it poisoned him when you first met. Personal vendetta or not, you respected anyone who was brave enough to give them the justice they deserved for the destruction their reign had brought to the galaxy. 

You bit your lip, considering. You had already made up your mind to take care of the child when he suggested it, but he didn’t need to know that. “How long would you need to leave him with me for?”

“A day, at most. Shouldn’t take too long, I’ve been stalking the quarry for a while.” The Mandalorian continued. “I can pay you well for your time.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You still owe me a story, you know.” Bending over, you reached into the Mandalorian’s bag and gently picked up the child, careful not to snag his tiny tunic on the metal clasps. “C’mere, bug. Looks like you and I are going to get to know each other.”

A thought popped into your head as you stared down at the small green baby. “Does he have a name?” 

The armored man in front of you spoke with gruff pride, “His name is Grogu.” He seemed unexpectedly pleased at your question; you supposed he didn’t have many opportunities to talk about his son very often, with the literal wall his armor created in social interactions.

You watched in surprise as Grogu twisted towards the Mandalorian at the sound of his voice, cooing happily. “You like the sound of your name, huh?” Clearly, the kid adored him, and for good reason. The stoic warrior had an obvious soft spot for the little guy.

Speaking of which… You eyed the man in front of you. “You know, it’s generally polite to have introduced yourself by now, metal man. It’s getting a little weird to keep thinking of you as The Big, Nameless Suit of Beskar,” you teased. 

You beamed up at him innocently and spoke your name, extending your hand towards him. “See? Not so hard. Now it’s your turn,” you explained slowly, as if you were trying to teach a toddler to sound out the alphabet. 

After several tortuously long seconds, during which your outstretched hand began to waver slightly, he finally responded. “Most people just call me Mando.” 

You dropped your arm, flexing your fingers. Ah, well, you could work on the handshake bit later. “Mando.” You hummed at the way the name easily rolled off your tongue, absently registering how the man stiffened at the lilting sound. “Not as scary as the outfit, but it’ll have to do.”

The M–Mando shrugged off the strange, momentary stillness that had possessed him and began retreating closer to the throng of marketgoers. “You’ll be alright with the kid?”

You rolled your eyes, affirming your ability to take care of Grogu while he handled business. Mando gave a quick nod and turned, preparing to leave. You took the moment to swipe the holospeaker out of the child’s hands– how had he gotten ahold of that?– and scanned the market for a booth that he might like. You still couldn’t find a textile shop in your line of sight, but you noticed a tiny arts and crafts area that seemed perfect for him to play in. 

You looked up to find the Mandalorian still standing nearby, helmet tilted towards you as he paused. “For your.. story. He likes shiny toys– he’s always unscrewing bits of the ship to play with when I’m not looking.” He pulled a small metal ball out of his holster and tossed it over to you. “This is his favorite.”

You turned the sphere over in your hand, smiling as the baby immediately reached for it. “I wonder why,” you mused, giving his silver-plated father a pointed look. “Must remind him of somebody.” 

Mando huffed a surprised laugh out through the modulator, helmet angled with new interest in the green child deeply entranced by the reflective surface of the ball. “Never thought of it like that before,” he muttered as he walked away, sparing you a short wave before he disappeared in the crowd.

You watched him go with a poorly-hidden grin, balancing Grogu on your hip as you navigated a path back into the market. “Alright, bug, let’s go have some fun.”

***

You spent the rest of the afternoon browsing countless booths with your charge, picking up little trinkets here and there. You eventually left with a respectable amount of merchandise– a pad of paper and coloring supplies for Grogu, a new tunic set, and even a sachet of Hothberry tea leaves that were rumored to keep one warm for hours after just one sip. Nothing for Mando, although the thought had crossed your mind more than once. You began your return home, carrying the cooing green child under streetlamps that twinkled warmly as the sky gradually darkened. He’d behaved so well all afternoon that you gave in and bought a sweetgrain scone to share on the long walk back.

You spent very few minutes setting your purchases in your rental pod upon your arrival. Grogu was getting fussy despite the snack, and you realized that Mando had never told you a meeting place where he’d pick him up. You decided to just bring Grogu along to your evening shift at the cantina, since that would likely be the first place he’d look and you didn’t want to be blamed for disappearing with his child. Sure enough, the Mandalorian showed up soon after the sun sunk beneath the icy horizon with another bag of credits and armor that was slightly more scuffed than the last time you’d seen it. You smiled, handing him his sleepy but satisfied son and the art supplies you’d picked up.

Mando had stared at the bundle of gifts for longer than necessary and for a moment you worried that you had offended him somehow. When he looked back at you, though, your fears were calmed by his intensely genuine tone. “Thank you. That was thoughtful of you.” He carefully placed the items in his bag. You smiled as he tried– and failed– to wrest the metal ball from Grogu’s tiny hands, despite the child looking seconds from passing out.  

Your eyes darted to the gradually cooling bowl of soup in front of him, which hadn’t been touched since he sat down. You cleared your throat awkwardly. “Is, um, something wrong with the food? Because I didn’t see you touch it last time, and I can make something else if you need, but.. you have to tell me.”

The Mandalorian remained silent, and you doubted whether he had heard your small-voiced question when he finally spoke. “I cannot remove my helmet in front of others. It is the Way,” he explained carefully, watching your response. 

Your eyes widened in comprehension as you considered his statement. The library datapad had frustratingly little information on Mandalorian culture, and you’d never heard of this rule until now. If he couldn’t remove the helmet… how long had it been since he had the chance to eat or drink without the kid nearby? Between taking care of Grogu and tracking bounties, you assumed that there was very little time for him to find a secluded area to remove the beskar. You nodded decisively to yourself, grabbing his soup bowl and motioning for him to follow you. 

“What are you doing?” His voice was curious, alert but not apprehensive of your actions.

You swiveled to face him, keys dangling from one hand and a focused expression on your face. “We have a storage room for the non-perishable food back here. If you want to eat there, I can make sure that no one comes in for a while,” you explained, leading him to a cramped, dimly lit room with pallets of sandgrain flour forming a makeshift table next to a small folding chair.

“Is this.. okay?” You spoke hesitantly when he stilled at your words. Kriff, you hoped you hadn’t implied something insulting when you’d unthinkingly offered the room. You grimaced as your brain kicked into overdrive, spinning like a frightened sand massif at the first possibility of a mistake. 

“I know it’s small, and I understand if you’d rather—”

“It’s perfect,” Mando interrupted you, stumbling slightly over the rushed words. “There are– many who would try to remove my helmet.” His voice lowered, edged slightly with wonder. “Thank you for allowing me to maintain my Creed.” 

He stood there for a moment, helmet tilted intently down at you. His hands lingered for a fraction of a second, tough leather brushing powder-soft skin as he gently set Grogu in your arms. When he shut the door, you leaned against the doorframe as quietly as you could, still feeling the ghost of his touch on the hands pressed to your heated cheeks.

***

And so you fell into a routine: every few weeks, Mando would come by with the kid and leave him with you for a few hours while he tracked down another bounty. When he returned, you’d invite him into the back for a warm meal, allowing him to eat alone in peace for a few minutes while Grogu thawed the icy hearts of your patrons with his mischievous coos. He always arrived after nightfall and never spent longer than an hour in the cantina. Well, except for the one time he’d accidentally fallen asleep in the small room. You’d gone to check on him once you finally cleared out the evening’s customers. It was clear that he’d been napping by his scratchy, startled response when you knocked softly on the door– emphasized even more by his embarrassed posture when he exited. Privately, you thought it was rather endearing, so you chose not to tease him about the momentary lapse in consciousness. 

You’d gotten used to his schedule, your semi-frequent meetings becoming a habit you were quite fond of maintaining. So when you didn’t see Mando for several weeks longer than predicted, you began to feel worried. Your heart twinged at the thought that maybe he’d found someone more interesting than a cantina waitress to look after Grogu, someone who didn’t live on an icy prison planet a parsec removed from civilization. And yet– Mando hadn’t hinted that he’d be stopping his visits, and his job was dangerous and unpredictable. Your mind swam with visions of him spiraling through space, unconscious and battered, ship engines sputtering out flame. You started taking earlier shifts at the cantina, pushing down thoughts of him before they ate at you more than they should for a casual acquaintance. 

Which is why you were shocked when Mando appeared in the doorway one afternoon, silhouetted by the bright daytime sun for the first time.

A momentary hush descended upon the cantina, quickly turning into a roar of nervous chatter when the imposing beskar figure sat down at the end of the bar. You muttered an excuse to your coworkers and rushed over, trying to look casual as you scanned his armor. It looked considerably worse than it had the last time you saw him, scuffed and covered in frozen mud– but his movements didn’t seem impaired by injury. You let out a tiny huff of relief, the sound catching the attention of the Mandalorian. 

He nodded at you, straightening. You sent him a small smile as you tossed him the cantina menu. “Haven’t seen you in a while,” you said, as casually as you could manage. 

“Miss me?” You couldn’t see his face, but you would bet every credit of your tips today that he was smirking under that kriffing helmet. You gaped at him, then recovered yourself with a haughty toss of your head, letting your hair fall in a curtain before your face so he wouldn’t see your flustered expression. 

“Don’t know why I would. I only tolerate you for your son, you know,” you sniffed, placing your hands on your hips. 

He let out a surprised, genuine laugh at that, and your face warmed at the deep sound. You felt a heady rush of pride at being able to pull the reaction from the normally reserved man, fighting the desire to do whatever it took to hear it again. You quickly brushed that thought aside, however, when you took in the empty bag slung across his torso, frowning at the noticeable absence of Grogu’s big ears. 

The Mandalorian followed your trailing glance. “I don’t have the kid,” he said, tone edged with a hint of frustration as he adjusted his gloves. “Kriffing Imps,” he muttered.

You paled. Imperials? “Is he–”

Mando’s helmet snapped up at the panicked tone of your voice. “No, he’s safe. Left him with a friend,” he explained. “Someone’s been following me on this bounty— maybe another Imperial remnant. Didn’t want to risk him.”

Tension bled out of your posture at his words, but your eyebrows remained knit together in confusion. “So if you’re not here to drop off the kid…” you started slowly. “What brings you back to Nath? Since you obviously didn’t stop by just to say hello,” you asked, giving him a pointed look. 

Mando tilted his head in acknowledgement. Apparently, that was the closest thing you were getting to an apology. Oh, well.

“Wish I knew,” he muttered. “Chased the quarry across the galaxy for weeks, don’t know why he stopped here when there’s more populated places. It’s like he wants to be found.”

You sucked in your bottom lip, absentmindedly scrubbing at a sticky puddle of spotchka on the counter. “You think it’s a trap?”

He gave a small shrug, subtly flicking something on his helmet and scanning the room. “Not sure.” He turned back to you, posture tensed. “Somethin’ doesn’t feel right, though. Keep your eyes open and get out if there’s trouble.”

You nodded, wiping a pair of dusty glasses to make it look like you were doing something more than eyeing the half-full cantina with hidden trepidation. You felt it too– the strange quiet of the wind brushing past the shutters, the way your hair stood up on your skin. 

Minutes later, a Trandoshan sauntered into the cantina and took the seat beside Mando, who immediately stilled. He grinned lecherously at you, motioning for a drink. You poured a glass of spotchka and handed it over, grimacing at the feeling of his eyes trailing down your torso like cold slime. “Thanks, honey,” he drawled, scaly hand scraping your wrist in a menacing caress. You stiffened, but chose not to respond, focusing back on the dishes. This wasn’t the first time you’d been harassed by a customer, but until now no one had dared to do so in front of the beskar-clad man sitting in front of you. Your frequent proximity to the intimidating figure seemed to cow the usual crowd into something adjacent to manners– something you missed during the weeks he was away. 

“Heard you were looking for me,” he spoke affably to the Mandalorian beside him. The hulking lizard raised his hands in a gesture of surrender, smirking. Mando remained silent, hands tightened around his glass, and you wondered why he hadn’t already tied up the bounty and left. The Trandoshan’s sly confidence around his hunter made you shift uneasily. Something was very, very wrong.

“See, I got a lot of credits, and you seem reasonable,” the Trandoshan spoke casually. “I know the bounty’s not worth what I can offer you, so how about we make a deal?”

Mando shifted slightly, the beskar plate on his forearm glinting. “I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold. Your choice.” His voice sounded through the modulator, deep and calm with a predator’s poise. “How’s that for a deal?”

The Trandoshan let out a harsh laugh. “Shame you wouldn’t bargain,” he said with mock regret. He twisted his hand up in the air, and you watched as nine more Trandoshans slunk out of the shadows of the cantina booths. The rest of the patrons quieted as they watched the tense scene, the smart ones making their excuses and leaving in a hurry. You were no stranger to bar fights, but they’d never escalated past a couple of drunken punches and a firm boot to the curb for all involved. This one, though… it seemed like it might get deadly.

“My friends and I’ve heard something about a Mandalorian bounty hunter. One who’s got a nice, fat Imperial price tag on his head,” he sneered, spit flying from his mouth. “Think that’d be a fair replacement for mine.” 

Mando turned his helmet oh-so-slightly towards you, making the tiniest nod towards the door. Go, he seemed to be telling you, and you inched towards the kitchen–

Your breath caught in your throat as you eyed the lizards closing in around him. You were sure he was a seasoned warrior, but ten armored adversaries at once seemed a little much for one person. You couldn’t help him fight, but… maybe you could distract them long enough for him to gain the element of surprise.

Before you could talk yourself out of your quickly-made plan, you grabbed a tulip-shaped flute of algarine bubbly and stepped up to the orange Tradoshan you’d served earlier with a coquettish smile. “On the house,” you said, passing him the glass with a bat of your lashes you hoped came across as sincere. You felt ill at the way his eyes rested greedily on the sliver of your chest exposed by your lean across the bar, but it appeared that you’d momentarily distracted him. If only you could get his friends’ attention, too… 

You glanced around, searching for anything you could use to cause a scene– pointedly ignoring the way Mando’s gloved hands twitched at your movement closer to the dangerous humanoid. Trust me, you mentally pleaded with him. I’m trying to help.

Your eyes finally fell on the spotchka situated uncomfortably close to your elbow. Perfect. You gave the Trandoshan a ditzy giggle, swaying like you were entranced by his gaze as you quickly jabbed the large pitcher. You gasped in fake horror as it shattered, spraying alcohol over most of the floor and onto the three closest lizards. The group swiveled at the disruption, venomous glares shifting to you instead of the armored man they were gathered around. 

“Oops,” you smiled, sugary-sweet and innocent. “Sorry, honey.”

And then Mando did something with his arm, flexing out his vambrace in a motion so quick you didn’t register it until flames shot across the alcohol on the bar and onto the scales of the Tradoshans. He immediately snapped into action as they roared in shocked pain, twisting and shooting as they fell one at a time. You admired his agile form for a moment, awed by how precise his movements were, how easily he moved into the flow of fighting like it was a second skin. A moment too long, it seemed, because you snapped your gaze away from Mando to see the orange Tradoshan bearing down on you. 

“Fucking bitch,” he hissed, eyes bulging with hatred as he lunged across the counter. Your eyes widened as you ducked backwards, intending to stumble into the safety of the kitchen but slamming into the unforgiving wall instead. Stupid, stupid, stupid, you chided yourself, stomach dropping as you scrambled to get your bearings through the surge of pain paralyzing your muscles. You didn’t know how to fight–should’ve run for cover the minute the spotchka hit the floor, honestly– and instead you just stood there like a kriffing nerf herder. 

You cried out at the impact of the Tradoshan’s sharply-scaled fist scraping your cheek, gasping and flinching away from the hit you were sure would land next between your ribs. He hissed at you through jagged teeth, sour breath like acid on your face. He cocked his blaster and you twisted yourself, preparing to launch into one final, defiant attack–

A blur of silver slammed into the orange lizard, knocking him off of you with a violent crash. You heard his bony nose break with a crack, followed by what sounded like an entire charge cartridge’s worth of blaster shots. You pushed yourself off the floor, wincing at the throb of pain that echoed at your temples but steeling yourself to get up nonetheless. Your mouth parted at the sight of the cantina, booths ablaze and blaster shots ringing through the smoky air.

Mando shouted your name over the commotion, sharp and intense. “Are you–”

“Fine. I’m fine,” you wheezed out in a relieved sob as he made his way over to you. “We need to go, the fire–”

“I know,” he muttered as he hooked an arm around your torso and dragged you behind a countertop, shielding you with his armor. “They’ve blocked the doors. Windows, too– I got seven of them, but the others are trying to burn us out.” 

“Please tell me you have a backup plan,” you begged, narrowly avoiding a stray charge that chipped the already-fragile cabinet. It would only be a matter of minutes before your feeble cover fell, and you didn’t feel like waiting around for more Tradoshans to show up.

The Mandalorian shrugged, gesturing to the fireplace in front of you. “It worked the first time.”

Your jaw dropped, anxiety momentarily forgotten. “Metal man. Are you saying that on your first night here… you left through the chimney?!”

“It’s very comfortable,” was all he said as he swung you over onto the hearth, casually shooting backwards at the face of a Trandoshan peering through a crack in the cantina door. From the muffled sound of something hitting the steps, his aim was flawless.

You gaped at him, speechless with disbelief. Was he… teasing you? If he was trying to distract you from the pain shooting across your face, it was definitely working. “Oh, no, everything’s fine, I’m just escaping a crime scene with an apparent madman,” you muttered to yourself, shaking your head at the absurdity of the situation. “Don’t know how I could’ve missed the simplest way out of here.”

No wonder you hadn’t woken up when he left– he hadn’t so much as touched the very reasonable idea of opening the shutters to get out. No, the kriffing chimney was the most obvious next step. With that kind of creativity, you supposed it made sense that he’d stayed alive in the bounty hunting business for so long. The mental image of the big, stoic Mandalorian inching his way up the vertical corridor with a little green accomplice on his back–combined with the general chaos of the last half hour–quickly became more than you could handle. You allowed yourself a moment of hysteria before sliding into the fireplace, head tilting back as you viewed the long, long passageway above.

***

Comfortable, my arse. You panted, some ten minutes later, sweat streaming down your face as you struggled to keep a solid grip on the sooty brick around you. The climb was not as amusing as you’d previously thought. Maybe you’d manage better if you had a grappling gun hidden in your forearm and boots with climbing spikes, like the beskar-plated man behind you. Right now, though, all you had were your worn-through work shoes and a hacking cough from all the smoke rising up to you from the wreck of the cantina below. 

“Come on,” you muttered, willing yourself to scoot up another meter despite your quickly fatiguing thigh muscles. How tall was this chimney, anyway? It felt like you’d been climbing for miles, but maybe that was just your poor endurance talking. 

“You doing okay?” Mando called up to you, grunting slightly at the weight of the Trandoshan bounty around his shoulders. There was no way you’d let him try to carry you too, though you knew he’d offer if you faltered. You screwed up your face in concentration, muttering something resembling an affirmation as you focused on shifting higher and higher until you finally, blissfully reached the top.

You let out a small whoop of success, collapsing on the roof as Mando pulled himself up behind you. “Thought I’d never make it out of there,” you beamed up at him. Your relieved smile faded as you took in his still-tensed posture as he looked off the edge of the roof. 

“What is it?”

He turned back toward you, setting the Tradoshan’s body down with a thunk. “They’re setting detonators around the building,” he spoke, his modulated baritone rough and distracted as he fiddled with a heavy metal backpack beneath his cloak. 

You swallowed thickly, closing your eyes for a moment as you fought to suppress the panic that rose up at his words. When you opened them, he’d shoved the Tradoshan onto the roof of the building next door, which was a safe distance away from the flames but remarkably jagged. You eyed the area, wondering if his plan was to crouch there and pray that the shrapnel from the explosion would miss the two of you. 

Mando walked over, motioning for you to get up. You got back on your feet, slightly dizzy from the smoke as you stumbled over to him. 

“Need you to hold on to me,” he muttered awkwardly, extending an arm. You gaped at him, utterly confused at the uncharacteristic action. How was clinging to him like a baby womp rat supposed to get you out of here before the building crumbled? 

Still, you stepped closer to him and tentatively wrapped your hand around his vambrace. You made a tiny noise of surprise as he tugged you into his chest, your arms instinctively wrapping around his broad torso. You ducked your head, glad that he couldn’t see your flaming face from this angle. Yep, that touch starvation was definitely doing a number on you. You could feel the rise and fall of his breaths, his chest surprisingly warm underneath the cool beskar plates that protected it— and stars, none of that was doing anything to lessen your little crush. 

“Close your eyes,” he instructed, and you quickly complied. Seconds after you’d scrunched your face up in concentration, you felt a tug in your stomach and the wind rise in your hair. Your eyes snapped back open on instinct as you felt your feet leave the ground, your grip on Mando tightening in panic. You peeked past his armor and saw nothing but cold winter sky— and was that a kriffing jet pack?! You gasped as you glanced down and realized that you were rapidly approaching a hundred feet in the air, the cantina exploding into a fiery speck beneath you. 

You and large heights had a strained relationship, so you clung to Mando with all your strength and prayed that he had enough fuel to land somewhere very solid. “You didn’t tell me we’d be flying out of there,” you spoke, words muffled by the wind and the way your face was currently scrunched against his hard chestplate.

“You didn’t ask,” he responded. If you weren’t so focused on staying alive, you might have been offended at his cheeky tone, but you settled for an eye roll.

You landed a few miles outside of town on the ice fishers’ territory. It took you longer than you wanted to admit to get detangled from the Mandalorian, mostly because your fingers had frozen into a death grip of a hug around him. He gently pried you off his armor, setting you on a patch of snow slightly less icy than the others and walking past you. You turned to see him open the boarding ramp of a silver Razor Crest in all its pre-Imperial glory. The ship was older than you expected, but in decent condition.

You carefully followed him into the ship, climbing up after him into the cockpit. The leather passenger seat was surprisingly comfortable, and your muscles slowly unstiffened as you watched him fire up the engines.

“I have to go pick up the bounty,” Mando stated, moving over to set the navigation screen. He paused. “Do you need to be… dropped off somewhere?”

“I— I don’t really have anywhere else to go,” you admitted, looking down at your lap. “The only place I had a connection to here was just blown up.” You winced, wondering how you’d ever find work now that you were partly to blame for the destruction of the town’s singular watering hole. 

Mando was silent for a while as he maneuvered the ship towards the cantina wreckage. You craned your neck towards the arching glass windows, staring down at the snowy landscape of Nath. “It’s so much more beautiful from above,” you spoke softly, wonder evident in your tone. “Always wanted to travel, see views like this every day, but… off-world tickets these days are too expensive.” Your face took on a wistful expression. “Must be nice to do this for your job. I bet the kid loves it, too.”

Mando cleared his throat, helmet tilting towards you.

“You could— work for me. Take care of the kid, here on the ship,” he spoke hesitantly. “Visit planets with us when I’m not hunting bounties.” 

You glanced over at him in shock, mouth falling open. Hope swelled up in you at his words, and you could hardly breathe at the idea of what he was offering you. A way off Nath, to experience the galaxy like you’d always dreamed- stars, but it felt surreal.

“It’d be better for him to have someone to rely on when I’m gone, stay in one place for longer,” he continued, faltering slightly at your silence. “The ship’s small, but I can pay you well and your needs would be taken care of for as long as you stay—“

“Yes,” you gasped out, the words embarrassingly rushed, but you didn’t care. “If— if you’re serious, then yes, I accept.”

He seemed surprised at the vehemence with which you spoke, but nodded. “This is the Way,” his deep baritone sounded through the modulator, final and determined. 

This is the Way. You practically vibrated with excitement at the phrase, face breaking into a grin as you settled back in the seat. All you’d have to do was keep that pesky attraction to the beskar-covered man piloting the ship under control, and you’d finally be free. Free of Nath’s soul-crushing atmosphere, free to travel the galaxy like you’d always dreamed of— albeit with a little green child at your side. 

Sure, he was the most interesting person you’d ever met, and the way his voice lowered when he bantered with you sent a jolt of something down your spine.

But it couldn’t be that hard, right?

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read on: part iii

[honeyedmiller]

The Bounty | Din Djarin

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: mentions of death (of a family member as well), murder, swearing, fluff, and just... Mando being Mando. hope y'all enjoy &lt;3

word count: 2.8k

synopsis: Din catches a bounty that utterly intrigues him, and that bounty happens to be you.

divider by @saradika

Fuck.

Your head hurt so bad. Your vision was so blurry, and you couldn't comprehend what the hell even happened. You kept fading in and out, whole body just absolutely aching.

You felt like it was forever until you came to. You blinked rapidly, several times, just to even regain consciousness of reality. Once your vision focused, you noticed you were on a ship. What the fuck?

You look around slowly, drinking in the sight of your surroundings. You noticed you were perched up against a metal wall, legs extended out in front of you. It was only until now that you noticed your hands were cuffed behind your back, the cold, rough metal biting harshly at your wrists every time you tugged slightly. You furrowed your brow, which was coated in pure cold sweat. The fluorescent lights in the ship were still too blinding for your vision, and you groaned in agony.

You stilled for a second, closing your eyes again to see if you could at least hear something familiar, because even the stars in space knew you couldn't muster up the energy to stand up, even if you wanted to. You didn't hear much except for the still air of hyperspace, it seemed like, and... is that... a baby cooing?

Your eyes instantly snapped open, being startled by a tall, extremely intimidating Mandalorian. You looked up at him from your place on the ground, his almost blindingly shiny beskar armor glinting the reflection of the lights on the ship. His helmet was tilted down toward you, making it devastatingly obvious that he was staring... maybe even... observing you.

You gulped in terror as your fight or flight kicked in, but then it suddenly dawned on you: one, he's a fucking Mandalorian. He has all kinds of weapons and trinkets that could kill you in a second, and two: even if you did put up a decent fight, where the fuck would you go? You're literally in hyperspace.

It's only then that you notice a little creature, who couldn't be more than a foot tall, making his way to the Mandalorian. He was so tiny, with big dark green, almost black-ish eyes. You blinked a couple of times in disbelief, making sure you were seeing things correctly. The little creature cooed his baby noises once more, trying to get the man's attention. He didn't budge.

"Uhm," You try your damndest to break the awkward silence and thick, unwavering tension, "What am I doing here?" You choke out, your mouth feeling so dry, throat extremely coarse.

You had an idea of why you were a bounty, but in your defense, the man you murdered had it coming. He killed your father, the last family you had on Tatooine, and you simply wanted to avenge his death. You didn't think the New Republic would frown so deeply upon getting revenge. But, alas, you were another identity on a puck, being ruthlessly hunted by a Mandalorian.

"Just kill me now," you wavered, feeling exhausted and quite literally having no will to stay alive, "I'm sure you'll get a good amount of credits for turning me in." You felt tears prick the back of your eyes, because your father was the only reason you kept going. Now that he was gone, what was the purpose?

Your response astonishes Din, even though he stays incredibly still. He's never had a bounty, especially as young and healthy as you were, plead for him to take their life. Usually it was a bounty that was older, or a renowned criminal within the galaxy, that truly didn't give two fucks if they died or not. Especially commenting about how many credits he'd get after turning you in. Something was off about you, but not in a bad way— Din just couldn't figure it out. He didn't trust anyone, at all, except for his green little son that was still trying to get his dad's attention at his feet.

But, for some reason, Din's gut told him to not freeze your body in carbonite. And so, he didn't... and he let you stick around.

-

That was six months ago. Six months you've been by Mando and the kid's side, flying all throughout the galaxy with them. Six months of incredibly dangerous yet exhilarating missions, beautiful planets, and little by little, getting to know the man armored in beskar himself. He never says much, and quite frankly, neither do you. The silence is something you both enjoy, but there's times where you'd both get curious about each other and your lives.

You told him the reason you ended up on that puck he was given to by Greef Karga, which made him ten times more glad he didn't do anything stupid on impulse that resulted in you no longer being in this galaxy. Mando knew you could fight, quite well, to his astonishment. He also knew you could shoot a blaster, and basically carry your own. Only thing you were missing was practically just the armor.

You never ceased to amaze him with your abilities— one minute you're his little sidekick joining him on a couple of missions to catch other bounties, and the next, you're making a deliciously hot meal for him and the kid. He didn't need help catching the bounties, but because of your quickness and ability to be sneaky, you were a great asset to him catching his targets. Plus, he thoroughly enjoyed spending time with you—

but he'd never admit that to you.

He generally always wondered how you'd acquired all of these vital survival skills over the years but never asked you, well, for one, because of the enjoyment of peace and quiet. Two, he didn't want to overstep. He wanted to get to know you more, and the more he found out, he always made a mental note to himself.

He remembers that your favorite flowers are nightbloomers, you like the warmth of the sun (because it wistfully reminded you of your home planet) much rather than the harsh and cold snow, your favorite drink is Bantha milk, and you love to secretly dance, especially when you think he isn't looking.

You can say being a quiet person really comes with some perks, especially being an excellent observer. Sometimes it's better just to sit back and watch, and that came as second nature to the both of you.

You sat in the co-pilots chair, basking in the same comfortable silence you two always do. The kid, who's name you found out long ago is Grogu, is fast sleep on your lap. He's snoring lightly, little breaths in and out at a steady pace. His tiny, three-fingered right hand is grasping onto the lapel of your black robe. Your heart swells at the sight.

You hear Mando input something on the navigator of the Razor Crest, and your eyes shift to his fingers. He was putting in new coordinates to a planet.

"Where are we headed?" You ask softly, eyes trained on the navigation system.

"Coruscant. Figured you'd want to get some fresh air and see the markets they have." He replies to you simply, no further explanation.

This was odd— he never really went out of his way to go to a completely different planet he didn't need to be on. Nonetheless, the kind gesture of his didn't make your heart fail to flutter.

You can never tell what goes on through his mind, mostly because you've never seen his face. You knew about the creed the Mandalorians needed to strictly follow prior to meeting him, but didn't know the full extent until he decided to explain it to you on a warm, sunset-filled evening not even a few weeks ago. You'll never forget the way the hues of orange and red reflected off of his armor.

His identity basically became a secret for the rest of his life, from childhood on. You were always curious as to what he looked like, but never questioned him or pushed it because, well, it really wasn't your place to know. You'd only known him for half a year, so you were nowhere near deserving to ask more than slightly intrusive questions about his appearance, or his past.

You arrived to Coruscant faster than you anticipated. The kid was still sleeping soundly when you guys landed, so you made sure to be extra careful to put him in his crib. Soon enough, you made it to a more secluded area of the city-covered planet. It was only a twenty minute walk from where the Razor Crest was stationed.

The planet was warm, and the outskirt markets of the city had solid dirt roads. The sound of dirt crunching under your boots as you walked became all too prominent, realizing the buzzing market before your eyes suddenly became quiet. You were confused at first, until you realized everyone was staring at Mando. He seemed to ignore all of it, probably so used to holding so much power that a whole lively, bustling town falls silent at his mere presence.

The power trip he must have is insane.

Everyone slowly returns to their own doings, some still whispering amongst themselves. You were here for the market, so that's what you were going to focus on.

You stop suddenly, guilt tinging your being just slightly. Mando looks down at you, confused as to why you suddenly halted your movements.

"I don't have any credits." You look up at him, your grimacing face reflecting off of his visor.

"Don't worry about it. We need food for the ship anyways." He keeps walking past you like it's no big deal at all. Although he is the one who captured you, you couldn't help but feel bad for not contributing to buying food or necessities. You know he made a decent amount of credits doing what he does, but you never questioned how much.

Again, it wasn't your space to pry.

"Here," Mando's modulated voice breaks your wandering thoughts, "Buy yourself whatever you'd like." He slips fifty credits in your hands, and you gasp.

"Mando, this is a lot. I can't take this." You shake your head in refusal, trying to push the credits back into his big, stubborn hands.

"I insist. You help out a lot and never complain about a damn thing," He pushes your hands with the credits toward your body, "It's the least I can offer you." He finishes, looking down at you. Oh, how you wish you could see his face underneath all that beskar.

You couldn't form words to show how much gratitude you felt in the moment, so you just offer him a soft, sweet smile.

Something else Din would never tell you: he loved your smile. You seldom did it, but when you did, it's like the weight of the world was lifted off of his shoulders, and he felt like he could relax. It was genuinely such a rare treasure being able to see such a sight.

He looked back up at the busy marketplace, spotting a vendor he wanted to buy something from. Grogu's crib followed Mando, so you went off to a fruit vendor only a few feet away. You smile at the woman as you pick out your favorite fruits, putting them all in one bag. You gave her credits she charged you, thanking her for the bag and you step away to look at what the other vendors had to offer. You saw one that offered Bantha milk, and you gasped in pure delight.

You quickly walked to the stand, immediately getting three bags of the delicious blue milk you used to drink on Tatooine. It reminded you so much of your dad and mornings with him as you sat and watched him repair people's ships from all over the galaxy. He was a very well-trusted mechanic, and he taught you everything you know. Oh, how you miss him dearly.

Mando put a hand on your shoulder, prompting you to turn around and face him. He held out a bag of dried meat toward you, and you happily took a small piece.

"Thank you for bringing me out here," You smile up at him, feeling overly spoiled, "It means a lot that you'd go out of your way." You rest a free hand on the chest plate of his armor without even realizing your actions at first. You quickly remove your hand, gathering up your bags of goodies once more in both arms. You spot a small boutique across the way, excusing yourself from Mando's presence.

You saw the prettiest pale pink nightgown, and you bought it immediately. It got so hot on the ship sometimes because of how warm the heaters were, despite being in freezing cold space nearly all the time. You had fifteen credits after that, so you looked around some more.

You spotted a shoe vendor, but your arm was immediately yanked by Mando before you could even step forward.

"What the—?!" Mando's leather-gloved hand covers your mouth, pulling you to the side of a building and away from the view of the main road.

"New Republic officers and Mandalorians don't get along," He grits, voice sounding agitated, "We need to leave." And all you do is nod in understanding, not even thinking twice about questioning it. He's seen far more of the galaxy than you have, so it's easy to say that what he's saying to you comes from utter experience.

Mando made sure you followed close behind him, and you turned to check on Grogu every couple of minutes. You just wanted to make sure he was safe. That kid could sleep through anything, seriously. He's been asleep this whole time.

Following his lead, you three were hiding behind as many buildings as you could until there was no more. You stopped behind the last building before he looked at you.

"Can you run?" He asks, helmet looking down at you. Of course you can. You grew up on Tatooine. You nod feverishly, adrenaline pumping through the course of your being. He gives you a short, slight nod, before he takes your hand in his and you two book it back to the Razor Crest.

You heard the officers shouting from behind, but both of you couldn't be bothered to look back unless it was to check on the kid. After about ten minutes, you made it back to the ship. You were a bit breathless, but the officers were nowhere to be found.

You've never outrun the law before. To say it was exhilarating would be a complete understatement. You lean your back against a metal wall of the ship, hands behind your head to steady your heart rate. Mando immediately took off, shooting into hyperspace in less than no time.

Your heart was still beating rapidly, but your breaths weren't as labored. Mando made his way back over to you, and you stood up straight once he was in front of you. You looked up at his helmet with wide eyes, then suddenly— you couldn't contain your joy any longer.

You started laughing, hard. So hard that you were hunched over, gripping your sides. You can't believe you just did that.

Maybe for Mando it was something normal, but for you? You'd never do something like that. Your dad would've kicked your ass would he've known about these shenanigans.

Din's heart felt lighter when he heard the sweet sound of your laugh. It was like music to his ears. As soon as you settled down and looked at the shiny armor in front of you, he put both arms on each side of your head. It wasn't in an intimidating fashion whatsoever. It was gentle, almost like he was going to tell you a secret.

"Do you trust me?" He rasps, voice hardly present. You nod, no apprehensiveness in your movements. "Close your eyes. Please. Promise me you won't open them." His words are stern, but still kind.

"I promise," you whisper, immediately closing your eyes. "Mando, what's this abo—" You couldn't even finish your sentence, because a small hissing sound like pressure was being released was very close and present in the air in front of you.

Suddenly, you felt a pair of plush, velvety lips press up against yours. You gasp into the kiss, not expecting it one bit, but still melt into it. Your lips move with his in perfect sync, slow and steady. Your heart was fluttering and your stomach was doing all sorts of flips. Who knew a Mandalorian could be one hell of a kisser?

When your lips finally parted from his, you hear the same pressurized noise, except this time it sounded like it was being sucked in instead of let out.

"It's Din," he says, putting his leather-gloved hand on your cheek, grazing it softly with his thumb. "My name is Din." He reveals, resting the cold metal of the beskar helmet against your forehead. A smile spread across your lips like a wildfire, both hands reaching up to hold either side of his helmet.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Din." You teased, but smiled nonetheless. You knew, right then and there.

Din was your new purpose.

[din-miller]

To Be Without You

Pairing: Din Djarin x Gn!Reader

Word count: 715

Summary: Comfortember day twelve – dreams

Warnings: nightmares, mention of child death, hurt/comfort

A/N: you can’t get Comfortember without pain. That’s my justification for this. Also this is a day late by 13 minutes and that’s because I spent the usual three hours trying to name this shit.

You’ve been here before, on this desert wasteland, air dry and lungs full of sand, but it wasn’t like this last time. You weren’t staring down at the broken bodies of your husband and son.

No, they didn’t die then, before, you had saved them. So why are you screaming for them to wake up? Begging for them to open their eyes, pleading with the Maker to take you instead.

No, they hadn’t died that day.

So why does this feel so real?

Then, after a heartbeat, Din’s yelling your name but his lips are closed and cold. Blue like the beach you got married on.

The yelling became louder, more persistent, more determined and you closed your eyes, letting your mind focus on the words circling the air around you.

Arms wrapped around you, strong and unwavering and you don’t understand how you’re being comforted when there’s no one around you.

The arms tighten and your eyes fly open, four walls surrounding you; a soft white, nothing like the red specks across the desert sand.

“Cyar’ika you need to breathe.”

It’s Din again. His lips are open as words flow out of them, mute to your ears but they look nothing like the cold ones burned on the back of your eyelids for decades to come.

But look is not enough, no you need to feel the warmth. Which is what you do, the desperate reassurance has Din gasping in surprise, body flying back onto the bed and you wasted no time crawling on top of him.

He lets you lead the kiss, understanding that you need this. You let the anguish inside you bleed into his mouth, letting it mix with the love he’s pouring into you.

It’s enough.

Din pulled back but the warmth of him never left as his forehead touched yours, “We’re all okay. Whatever you saw, we’ll get through it I promise.”

You believe him. This isn’t the first time you’ve had this dream and you know it won’t be the last. You fold yourself against his chest, matching the slow breathing pace he’s set for you. In and out, in and out, once more before a horror creeps up your body and settles in your mind, stealing all the air in your lungs, “Where’s Grogu?!”

“In his room,” Din sweeps his thumb over your cheek, wiping away the tears you don’t remember letting fall, “I’ll bring him to sleep with us once you calm down.”

“No, no I need to see him now!”

Din sighed but didn't try to put up a fight with you. He’d lose and you both know it. He kept you tucked against his chest as he sat both of you up, “Do you want to bring him in here or should I set up the pull out couch in his room?”

His arms don’t let go of you as you leave the bed and mumble into his shirt, “His room. I don’t think I can sleep in our bed right now, it’s too much.”

“Okay, I’ll set up the futon for us.” Din said softly, guiding you to your son's room.

You don’t fight off his hands but you do shake your head, “You should go back to our bed. It’s better for your back.”

Din huffed, almost offended, “I’m not leaving you.”

You’re first to enter Grogu’s room, needing so desperately to see him alive, unharmed. You crouched down beside his bed, careful not to wake him as Din started setting up the futon for the night.

“Hey,” Din whispered, hand landing on your shoulder, thumb brushing back and forth in a soothing motion, “The beds set up.”

“He’s so tiny,” You whispered back, tears building back up but you won’t allow them to fall, “I always forget how tiny he actually is.”

“Knowing our little guy he’s probably bigger than most kids his age,” Din pressed a kiss to his tiny green head and then did the same to yours, “You need to sleep, cyar’ika.”

His strong arms wrapped around you, pulling you to the bed as he held you protectively against his chest, letting you breathe in the scent of his person and the soft chamomile that fills Grogu’s room.

“Don’t let go?” You asked.

“Never.” He promised.

[a-multi-fandom-maniac]

Fearful Confession

(gif credit: bisexualrights)

Synopsis: You have been through it all with the Mandalorian and his son, forming an unbreakable bond and friendship. But your relationship changes after a close call with a bounty.

Warnings: Typical Star Wars violence/injuries, minor angst with comfort, arguing, fluff, no use of y/n, first person pov

Author note: PRAYING this isn’t too similar to anything else someone’s written before, this came from a dream i had LMAO😫. enjoy <3

———————————————————————————————————

The Razor Crest was silent, which was unusual.

Typically, there was plenty of noise echoing throughout the old ship. The babbling of the kid while he played with his metal ball, my laughter while watching him mess with trinkets, and an occasional quiet huff of laughter from my armor-wearing companion. It was peaceful, and it was home; Our home.

But right now, it’s tense.

I sat in the co-pilot seat, looking down at the worn floor of the cockpit while only being able to hear the tiny sounds of space surrounding us and the heavy beating of my heart. From the corner of my eye I glanced at Mando trying to gage what he was feeling, but to no avail. Even though I’ve grown to know him for a while, it was still hard to read him. Especially now.

I shift my gaze out the window, debating whether or not I should say something. I slowly reach my hand up to the bandage on my cheek, wincing a little at the contact. The pit in my stomach only worsened at the thought about what happened to cause the small injury, as well as the tense atmosphere that was suffocating me.

Realistically, I shouldn’t have jumped into the fight between a bounty and Din. He had it under control, as he mentioned the whole way back to the ship, and I was supposed to be watching the kid (He was safe in his pram with the cover over him). What made me jump in was seeing the bounty pull a knife when Mando wasn’t looking. So I intercepted the blow…which in return gave me a fun little knick on my cheek. Mando was able to knock him out and bring him to the ship, but after a huge lecture that consisted of yelling and arguing he began to ignore me. He put Grogu to sleep and made a beeline towards the cockpit.

So now we’re here.

I studied Mando as he punched in coordinates and flipped switched, the Razor Crest taking off. The tension was heavy, it felt like he could hear my thoughts. He was really making it difficult for me to speak up to finally break the silence.

“I’ve just put us into hyperspace. You should go rest, it’ll take us a while until we land on Nevarro,” Mando curtly said while he began lifting himself from his chair. He moved fast towards the ladder, making it hard for me to create any sort of response. I finally swiveled in my chair to face him to try to clear the air.

“Mando-“

“Don’t.”

And with that the door slid shut behind him.

I sat there, stunned and dumbfounded at his response. What the hell was that?

My brows furrowed as I nearly jumped out of the co pilot chair and went after him. I climbed down the latter and saw Mando cleaning his blaster. I slowly approached where he was sitting.

“Mando can we please-“

“No.”

“Would you stop interrupting me and just let me talk to you?”

Mando paused what he was doing, lifting his head so his visor finally faced me. I felt myself wanting to shrink at the sudden attention.

“Go ahead,” his tone was serious while making me question whether or not I really wanted to talk anymore. I took a deep breath before speaking.

“I know what I did was stupid,” I started while my hands began to shake a little, “and I should have known you would handle it-“

As I was speaking Mando placed his blaster on the small table next to him and began to stand up and walk around. I paused my apology, giving him a weird look.

“Are you even listening to me right now?” I questioned, frustration creeping up on me. When I didn’t get a response I began to follow him.

“Mando I’m trying to apologize and acknowledge my screw up, why can’t you just accept it?” I asked while he turned his back to me. I saw him shaking his head as he sighed, but no answer came from him. My small frustration was slowly growing into something more for each minute he ignored me.

I scrunched my nose as I tried to get his attention again.

“Hello? Am I talking to myself?” Another sigh. Without turning to face me he finally spoke.

“I don’t think you understand how stupid what you did was.”

At his words it felt like my heart sunk while my stomach began to eat itself alive. It felt like talking to a wall. My frustration came back as I took another step towards his back, waiting for him to finally acknowledge my presence.

“Don’t you think I know that? I panicked, Mando. I got ahead of myself and jumped the gun, you can’t say that has never happened to you-“

He spun around as he pointed a finger at me, “This isn’t about me!” His body was visibly tense as he spoke. “This is about you and how you can’t seem to handle intense situations like the one we faced today.”

I stared into his dark visor. There was a beat of silence, just as I took a breath before speaking he beat me to it.

“You need to stop getting a head of yourself and let me do my job.” Mando tried to end the conversation at that and began to walk away.

As if it was possible, my stomach began to hurt more while my heart felt like it was going to implode. I had to be dreaming. What was going on with him? I stood there for a second before time began catching up to me as I was quick to follow once more.

“Let you do your job? Are you even hearing yourself right now? I’ve apologized well over a million times and acknowledged my mistakes, what else will it take for you to forgive me?” I nearly begged him while seeking an answer. I wouldn’t stop until he spoke to me.

“Din, please-!”

“I shouldn’t have let any of this happen!” He finally snapped as he faced his body towards me, both of us breathing heavily. Letting his words sink in, I gave him a confused look before he continued.

“I shouldn’t have let the bounty get that close to where you and Grogu were with the ship. I was cocky and thought everything was fine until he tried to pull one over on me,” he explained, almost exasperated.

“Din,” I softly called his name, “what do you-“

“Because of my choices, you had to jump in because I was too focused to see the knife he pulled, and you got hurt because of it. I got you hurt,” Din’s voice began shaking subtly, but it was enough for me to catch it. I slowly began making my way towards him until I was almost touching his chest piece. I gently grabbed his gloved hand and placed it on my bandaged cheek as Din stilled at the action.

“I’m okay,” I softly assured him. His hand cupped my face as his thumb rubbed the bandage. He shook his head.

“But it could have been worse,” he was quick to deny, “I should have just used my comm and asked for help. I wouldn’t have been able to forgive myself if anything happened to you or the kid.”

Din placed his other hand on my face, holding my head in his hands as his visor didn’t leave my eyes.

“I wouldn’t be able to live without you, cyar’ika.”

My breath hitched at his words as my eyes widened. I brought my hands up to his helmet and gently pulled him towards me as I made our foreheads rest against each other.

“I swear to you,” I whispered while closing my eyes, “that no matter what I will always be here. You can’t keep convincing yourself that if anything happens that it’s automatically your fault, it’s not good for you Din.” I moved my thumb back and forth on the cool beskar where his cheek would be.

“I wouldn’t be able to live without you, either,” I said sincerely. His helmet lifted from my head to look at me. I gave a small smile at him before continuing, “which is why I need you to rely on me when you need help. We’re a team, we have to work together okay?”

He took in a shaky breath before slowly letting it out.

“Okay. Just please try not to put yourself in danger if you don’t need to,” he nearly begged while holding me tighter. I laughed at his words while looking at him, adoringly.

“I promise.”

—————————————————————————

[helpinghanikan]

Domestic December: Day 13

Din Djarin: You're both sick

There’s no escaping disease when you live so closely together. Grogu got it first, probably from eating something he was told not to. Starting off with a fever and body aches that seemed to be too much for his little body.

You were the next victim. A particularly hard sneeze rocked the entire ship one morning and you knew what was coming.

Din wasn’t far behind. His helmet could protect against bullets but not the sickness that a child brought in.

“This is your fault.” Din accused Grogu after a sleepless night.

Grogu didn’t have it in him to give one of his sassy looks. Too busy moaning into Din’s side from the discomfort to do anything. Of course Din placed a gentle hand on his son’s tiny head. His gloves weren’t the softest thing in the world, but it was comforting when he rubs his thumb gently against Grogu.

“Here, take something.” You said, closed hand extended towards your fierce warrior with a tummy ache. Followed by one quarter of the pill for Grogu. “You too, buddy.”

Little man gags around the medicine. Downing the glass of water you held to his lips to help.

“Thank you,” Din says, reaching out for you to come into his arms. “Did you take anything?”

Most of Din’s armor was gone. His breast plate, shin, and arm covers were piled up next to the sleeping mat. Leaving him with his under clothes. This didn’t make him all that much more comfortable to lay against. Not that it stopped you from cuddling up against him.

“I already took some. We’ll all be passed out in a few seconds.” You say, reaching a hand up and placing it on his Baskar covered forehead. “Yeah, I can feel the fever coming down already.” “Stop it,” He says, pulling your hand away. But you could hear his smile.

[gingerlurk]

Lovers' Crest | Chapter 20: The Confessional II

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Din has left it all too late as his fears are realised.

Word count: 5k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), post season 3, Mo blood, injured Reader, Hurt/Comfort (if I have ever written a self-indulgent hurt/comfort fic in my life, it’s this chapter), lots of feelings.

A/N: We're nearly there, omg. Every single one of you who's joined me on this journey and let me know you're enjoying this story, you're SO wonderful. Thanks for reading!

--

Din rips at your flight harness, nearly pulling it from the seat in the effort to get you up. He shouts your name but you’re limp and silent, lifeless. Grogu watches with wide horrified eyes as Din hauls you, limbs dangling, into his arms. 

He yells to R5 to keep the ship on an even keel.

‘Grogu. With me. We need. Lay her down.’ He grunts out the words in stuttered bursts of breath, moving to the door.

‘Pah!’ Still in his pod, the baby unbuckles to follow the hulking shape of Din carrying you through the cockpit, dropping into the hold, across to the cabin. He floats into the cabin behind the frantic Mandalorian and your unconscious form, hovering nervously and murmuring as his father lays you down before turning to him. 

Din lifts Grogu from the pod.

He settles the child next to you, by your hip so his little hands are just in reach of the wound, and seats himself on your other side – framing you between the two of them. He takes out a small knife and slices away your leather tunic to expose the short metal object that Grogu spotted when you had leaned back in your cockpit chair. It is pulsing with a low hum and the skin around the foreign object is riddled with gooseflesh. Sweat pools across the plains of your abdomen and in the hollow of your neck. You shudder. 

‘Grogu,’ Din hovers above you both. He takes one, steadying breath. ‘I need you to be strong for her now.’ 

He points to the small hilt sticking from your middle. Grogu murmurs, gazing between it and Din with unease.

‘This is a phase blade,’ he explains. ‘It is an ultrafine weapon that a war trooper must have slipped in when she was fighting. She would have barely noticed it going in, but now it is buried deep and is making her bleed inside her body. Do you understand what I mean by that, Grogu?’

‘Ebbe?’

‘It’s hurting her inside her body where we can’t see. And if I start to pull it from her, it will activate an energy field that is going to make it worse, more bleeding, more damage inside of her.’

His voice cracks for a moment. He blinks back tears from behind his helmet, seeing the charts on his vision array showing your staccato heart rate and plunging BP blur and distort. He shakes his head and focuses on the child’s face. 

‘It’s designed that way, d’you understand?’ he goes on. ‘They use it to kill even after a battle ends. It’s impossible to remove without killing her.’

Grogu gives a little wail of despair, leaning into your limp form.

‘But y’can save her, buddy.’

‘Eeeh?’ Din’s son gives him a disbelieving look. He really doesn’t know - how powerful he is?

‘Remember Greef Karga?’ he says, leaning closer to the tiny child. ‘Remember the creature’s attack on Navarro? You saved him. You can save her.’

From where you lay, you convulse slightly and thick blood oozes across your hip and onto the bed. Your chest rises in shallow, hyperventilating breaths. His voice gets urgent.

‘You’re stronger now than you were then, so much stronger. You can do this. As I draw out the blade… heal her as it goes. Make the bleeding and the hurt stop. Can you do that?’ 

The baby’s ears twitch as he looks up to where your head lays lolled on its side. He looks terrified.

‘Please, kid,’ the desperation in Din’s voice pulls Grogu’s eyes back to him. ‘Please, you have to do this, I need h—’

Fuck, take a breath, Fuck.

‘I need you to try your best.’

Grogu seems to steel himself. He reaches out and presses both hands to your entry wound. Din takes the petite hilt of the blade in hand and braces a forearm against your ribcage. He watches as the child closes both gigantic eyes and focuses, tilting his head progressively up and up like he’s summoning the universe to him. Din observes his breathing pick up and his little forehead scrunch tight. 

‘Ehhhhh,’ Grogu looks pained, straining. His little mouth opens and closes a few times before settling into a hard frown. Then, without opening his eyes, he gives one tiny resolute nod.

Din takes a long breath in and counts… three, two…  

He pulls.

‘Hhhhrrrrrngh!’ You wail and arch off the mattress, pushing into Din’s forearm with a surprising force. He leans forward to put more weight on you and grips the blade tighter. It’s barely moved a millimetre but you and Grogu are both shaking violently. 

Just keep going. Stay steady.

Another pull and hot crimson spurts from the wound, splashing across the view of his visor. You jerk as if struck, arching again. His grip slips off the hilt. Panic rises. He feels like he might black out. Flushing hot and cold, the air in his lungs turning icy and his blood setting to boil.

Furious regret tears at him. Worlds, curse him. He’s wasted so much time. Holding onto the hurt, onto the shame, and the anger. Why? Why couldn’t he have let go sooner. Why couldn’t he have just talked to you. If he’d just tried. Just understood you better.

Fucking focus.

Retaking the handle, he channels everything down to his hand and the blade. It’s not you he’s killing right now; it’s just his hand and this blade. That’s all it is. His hand, this blade, he chants it over and over as more of the quivering weapon comes free.

His hand, this blade. His hand, this blade. His hand, this cursed, evil, fucking, going to kill his--

The weapon draws out, deactivating the second it breaks contact with flesh. Din hurls it into a med tin and shakes his hand, as if to get the menace off him. He looks back to you, reads your still sporadic vitals. Your lips are white and you’re puffing hard through clenched teeth. Your wound is still leaking blood. Too much blood.

He’s on the verge of weeping. But he concentrates instead on Grogu, whose claws are sunk deep into your skin as he continues shaking and grunting. The child is giving everything he has. 

Din Djarin looks between the two of you. His whole fucking world. He’s losing a part of it. Maybe for good this time. He’s been so foolish. 

Fresh tears come. His vision shifts out of focus and, instead of your two quivering bodies, he sees the spray of blood across his visor. Your blood. A wretched reminder of how tortured he’s been since you returned. Empty while you were gone, he’s been on fire from the moment you looked at him as you stood at that damned forge saying you’d fight for them. Each time he’d watched you from afar, desperate to go to you but drilled to the spot, it burned. His desire to see you, to actually see you. 

It’s time. It might be too damn late, but it’s time. 

He reaches and pulls his helmet up, off. Deposits it over you onto the bed. He sits back and puts a hand to Grogu’s back and the other to your uninjured side, drawing the two of you together, holding you as close as he is able.

Whatever happens, he needs to hold you both close, for as long as he can.

‘Come on, Grogu,’ Din leans in. ‘You can do this, you can. You’re so strong, stronger than any—’

Grogu gives a long pained sigh of effort and flops forward, head resting next to the spot where – thank all the worlds – your wound has closed over into a puckered, angry looking scar. Your breathing is evening out and you slowly come to stillness.

Even as the child lays there wheezing, the wound continues to lighten and shrink, the connection between you and he potent and enduring.

Din becomes aware of his own hammering heart, his staggered breathing. Sighing out every ounce of fear and panic that had consumed him these past few minutes, he looks at you. 

He gives himself a moment to take you in. Traces the side profile of your face where your head has turned away. Relishes in the way your eyelashes flutter, and your lower lip quivers a little. The way you’re breathing more normally with each passing moment. 

He gives himself a moment to think about the colour of your eyes, wonders if his visor’s vision array has ever truly conveyed their beauty.

Then he gives his son a reassuring pat.

Grogu’s eyes slip open and he looks at his father in wonder. Din smiles.

--

It’s so much pain. 

Great crumbling walls of it. Savage spikes impaling your very core. You fall back away from it, toward some dense murky nothingness. That’s what you’re aiming for – just for the relief – when something else reaches down and wraps around you. A coil of earnest embrace. A branch of tender love. It takes hold and gives a single strong entreaty. Come back. As it strengthens its hold, the excruciation eases. The agony releases.

And so you turn back.

Push through a dense fog, swim back to consciousness. It feels endless. White haze claws at you, but the warm light waits not far away. You drag yourself to it. It takes effort. So much effort. You have to call on the weary presence within you to rise up, haul on it like a rope out of there. Reaching, grasping, breaking the surface tension with a long, strained inhale.

The first thing you sense is Din’s voice.

‘Sshh, cyar’ika,’ he’s whispering. ‘That’s it, take it slow. There’s no hurry.’

You hear yourself groan then. Feel filtered cabin air settle on your skin. Smell earthy sweat and the tang of blood, and under those something achingly known. More out of curiosity than any desire to expose them to light, you blink one eye open a little, then the other. And then you feel confusion. Because through blurred eyesight, what you see makes no sense. With your head rolled to the side, you’re looking at the unoccupied half of the bed. Except it’s not totally unoccupied.

Maybe you haven’t woken up, after all.

Din’s helmet rests on the blankets. Empty and cold, no life behind the visor. 

You sense him sitting on your other side. Hear his steady inhales and exhales, clear and unmodulated. Feel the heat of his thigh pressed into your side. 

‘Din?’ you say, voice croaky and weak, still staring at the lone helmet. You can’t bring yourself to move, to turn. You can only raise a shaky hand to press a finger to the cool metal. A flood of feeling at the contact you’ve ached for, you trace over it, follow the streak of dried blood spattered there. Draw a thumb down the high arch of its side. A caress you’ve longed for.

‘I’m here,’ he says.

‘You’re not…’ Still looking at the helmet. You notice his gloves and gauntlets also discarded on the bed. ‘You’re…’

‘It’s okay,’ he says, throaty and barely above a whisper. ‘You can look.’

‘Are you,’ you struggle to keep tears from blurring your sight even more. Blink hard to clear them, hiss in a breath. ‘Are you s- sure?’

The sensation of two fingers gently pressing to your cheek makes you gasp. If you weren’t already lying down, you’re sure you’d collapse. You screw your eyes shut again as, with a tender push, he tilts your head to turn to him. 

He sighs, pulls his hand away. ‘Please,’ he rasps. ‘Let me see you.’

Come on, you tell yourself. This is all you’ve ever wanted.

So you focus where you think his hands will be, likely resting in his lap. You blink a little when you see them there – those strong, capable hands. Thick fingers, veins tracing over knuckles, over his wrists, and up to where his forearm disappears into a sleeve. You follow that up to one shoulder, dart from it across to the other. No pauldrons. Land in between. No cuirass. 

In your peripheral vision, above the chest you’re staring hard at, you register dark hair framing indistinct features. Dark hair you already know to curl around his ears and fan over his forehead, from touching him blind and from that one scant glimpse before the battle. You’d been so eager then. So desperate. And now…

He murmurs your name. ‘Look at me, please.’

Tracing the line of his neck, the edge of his jaw, you sweep your eyes up to meet Din’s. 

A plush lower lip purses just a little, as he releases a breath like he’d held it his whole life. You struggle to breathe at all, drinking in the glorious sight. Lungs burn as you slot each tiny detail into the image in your head. There’s so much to take in, but his eyes… My gods, his eyes.

Deep, and dark, and bottomless. They match his voice so perfectly, that velvety timbre you know so well, you’re amazed you hadn’t known their hue and tone all along.

He gazes back, absorbing you. Irises like onyx marbles roll over your face, opening you up and exposing you completely. Tears start to threaten you again just from the sheer overwhelming sensation of making eye contact with Din.

‘Mmm, weh,’ a gentle murmur pierces the spell, has you glancing down.

‘Baby, hey,’ you whisper to Grogu, who’s tucked into your hip squinting up at you. You prop yourself on an elbow. ‘Oh, you look so tired. Why aren’t you resting?’

‘He’s been waiting,’ Din says, drawing your eyes back to his, where you struggle not to get lost in their fathoms again. Gods, this is the face of the Gods. ‘To make sure you’re alright.’

You look back to the child, whose own huge eyes blink languidly. You can see the effort he’s making to keep them open. You remember then, what he did. Grogu reaching for you as you sunk into a murky oblivion. Giving you the life raft to let you drag your way back. Saving you.

‘Hey, kiddo,’ you reach over and let him take hold of a forefinger with his little claw. Enclose it with a thumb. ‘See? I’m okay now. I’m okay.’

‘Emm?’

‘Yeah, you did good. You can rest now. Thank you.’

Grogu gives a lazy nod of his head, exhaling and cooing to the two of you. He pushes himself up and moves toward his pod, tentative little steps and huffs of air until he’s seated comfortably among the blankets. Pawing at the controls, he drifts out of the cabin and you listen for the shift of his hatch, open and then close.

Moving the hand he’d grasped to rest on your stomach, you feel it. Raised skin, threaded and uneven. Fingers trace back and forth over the new scar.

‘What was that? What happened to me?’ you ask, gazing up at the man sitting beside you, at his soft mouth, his sharp nose, his knit-together brow – his gorgeous features. 

A shadow crosses them as Din leans down and picks up a little metal tray. A tiny hilt with no blade rattles inside it. He lets you get a look at it before tossing it back on the floor like it’s tainted. You suppose it is.

‘Fuck,’ you huff an exhale, lean back. ‘Dicey.’

‘That would be putting it fucking mildly,’ he says, glaring at the offending weapon. How had you failed to notice a damned phase blade? When did it even happen? What would have happened to you if Din hadn’t— If he hadn’t been with you? You pull in a long breath of air.

‘How many times is it you’ve saved my life now?’ you ask. 

Eyes so soft and deep lock onto yours. You’re not prepared. They’re so expressive, you can read every single ounce of feeling in them. Longing, and fear, and some deep sad pain that breaks you wide open right from your chest.

The swell of emotion rises so swift it chokes you and slurs your words. But you force them out. As fast as you’re able over the short shallow panting that starts ramping up a staccato beat.

‘I’m sorry,’ you gasp. ‘I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Gods. Din, I’m so- s- I—'

He’s leaning in, head shaking just a little.

‘I was scared,’ you push on, words bursting out over rising sobs. It’s been too much. It’s been too long. ‘I was just so fucking sc- scared. And confused. And like I was just lost? I’m sorry, fuh, ah, I’m so--’

‘Stop,’ he speaks over you. ‘Stop, please.’ 

But you can’t. You can’t stop. The dam you’ve been straining against dissolves into a torrent. Chest heaving and hands shaking, you scrunch your eyes shut and weep.

It’s when Din bends forward and takes your face in his hands, swipes a thumb over a tear-streaked cheek and whispers, ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ that you still. At the sound of your name, murmured and desperate, you open your eyes to see his own just inches away.

‘I understand,’ he says, looking right through you, brows pulled in and expression pleading. ‘I understand now.’

He holds you there for a long, agonising stretch. Faces so close your breaths merge, brush against the cooling moisture on your skin. It’s when your mouth parts just a little, and his gaze drops there for a second, that he seems to return to himself and sits back.

Bereft for a moment, caught off guard by how just a few moments of his touch has your body thrumming, you stay quiet. You lay still and watch him gather himself, readying his words. You know this posture, know what it looks like when he’s preparing to open up. The added details of his jaw working and forehead creasing in contemplation are not lost on you – in fact, they put your heart in your throat. Yet still, in this moment, you have no idea what he’s going to say. 

Sure enough, his words take you out.

‘A while ago,’ he says. ‘Through a misstep in fate, I possessed a weapon that could have allowed me to rule Mandalore. As Bo-Katan does now.’

This out-of-nowhere revelation has you asking before you can think, ‘Why didn’t you? Why aren’t you?’

‘Well, among many other reasons,’ he makes a gesture like politics and such. With a head tilt you know well, you nearly die to learn it comes with a single eyebrow arched high in sardonic humour. You feel giddy, but keep still and listen. ‘It was… heavy,’ he continues, expression dropping to neutral again. ‘Too heavy. Being a part of my Covert is about belonging. But this was something different. I did not have the want to carry that weight. To be pulled down. Bound.’

The word pierces right through your chest. ‘Bound?’

It’s a tiny squeak, the way you say it. Bursting out of you as you see him in all new light. Familiar light. He moves a hand over you to touch your forearm, strokes there in comfort – a reflex that he doesn’t seem to make note of. It makes your skin sing. 

‘Mmhm,’ he says, looking at you. ‘The thing you fear? I understand it. I should’ve understood it all along, but I was blinded by—’ He cuts himself off, swallows hard. 

‘Anyway, I am sorry for that,’ he says, whispering your name again. ‘I am so, so sorry.’

You’re trying to find the words to say he has nothing to be sorry for. To tell him you’d carried remorse and guilt with you across most of the galaxy. That you’d do anything to go back to before that cursed day and talk to him. Tell him these things before it had all become too late. But he continues before you can. 

‘And I’m sorry that I have been… since you got here, that I’ve…’

‘It’s okay,’ you say, when you see him struggling to keep going.

‘It’s not,’ he says. ‘It’s not okay, I was just- Shit, I was just so furious…’

‘I know,’ you murmur, ready to accept this and beg forgiveness. ‘I know you were angry with me, and, and I underst—’

‘I wasn’t angry with you,’ he interrupts.

‘But I- I hurt you so badly, I--’ you say, unable to believe him. Tears encroach again. ‘And- and I was here and you weren’t, and I didn’t know if you’d ever speak to me again, and I--' 

‘I was hurting, that’s true,’ he says, warm hand continuing its motions on your arm. It hasn’t stopped for one second. ‘But so were you. And I wasn’t angry with you.’

‘What?’

He leans the elbow of the arm not caressing yours on a knee, shifts a little closer. Drawing a deep breath to speak, he gives you another wounded look. An intense wave of gooseflesh ripples over you.

‘You being here,’ he says. ‘I couldn’t stand it.’

You must look fit to break because he rushes on. 

‘You being here, in danger. From the moment you stood in front of everyone and said you’d fight, I’ve been,’ he drags a hand through mussed curls, searches for words, ‘drowning, in fury and fear. When you told us your plan for the walker… Fuck-- I was livid.’

Paying attention to the tender muscles in your abdomen, you nudge yourself upright. Shuffle a little until you’re sitting up facing him, drawn in by what he’s saying.

‘That’s what you were angry about?’ you ask. ‘That I came back to fight?’

He shakes his head. ‘I was angry that you were risking your life. That you wanted to fight our battles. That they were letting you. After what I did? How I let you go?’

Din stops there for a moment, works his jaw some more and swallows like he’s trying to not choke. Grips your arm hard. He looks tortured.

‘I should never have let it get to that moment by the forge, that day you left,’ he whispers, voice tight and just under control. ‘But I wasn’t, wasn’t paying attention. I was so afraid… The idea of you in a war that wasn’t yours to fight… All I could think about was how I could protect you. If I even could.’ 

His eyes are glossy as they stare over your shoulder. Your fingers itch to touch him. ‘And when you did run… I thought at least, at least you’d be safer that way.’ 

Din takes a sharp hiss through clenched teeth.

‘But I was a fool,’ he says. ‘To not realise that whether you had run that day or not, you still would have ended up here, because of your bravery, and loyalty. Because of me. And I couldn’t stop it-- I couldn’t-- Fuck.' He lets go of you to drop his head into both hands. ‘And you almost just fucking died, right here-- All my fears were—'

This time you’re the one reaching out, clutching at arms and wrists and trying to shush and still him. You lift his head and you’re inches apart again. You mutter at him to look at you, look right here, I’m okay … Just look. I’m here.

He sighs hard and stares. Tears shining in the corners of his eyes, they shift back and forth across your face. Your fingers tingle where they dig into his hair. Heart thunders. A white hot current crackles through your arms and across your chest, sends sparks up the back of your neck. 

‘I’m here,’ you say again, voice breaking only a little.

‘You’re here,’ he whispers back. As he calms, clenched jaw relaxing, he leans into one of your palms. Just a little, without breaking eye contact. Although you do see, for the barest second, a soft pink tongue dart out to swipe his lower lip.

But he doesn’t move, just keeps looking at you – waiting for you to choose what to do next.

It’s not that you don’t want to keep holding him like this, to pull him closer, wrap yourself around him entirely. Not let go. It’s not that you wouldn’t give anything in the galaxy to simply press your forehead to his, nudge his nose with yours, press your mouth to—

It’s just that you’re on a threshold you’re not yet ready to step over. There’s things you want to say first. Answers you still need. Somehow, doubt there still about whether he wants the same thing.

So you pull back. Not much. Just enough to bring his features into focus again. Drop your hands to rest between you. He seems to will himself to relax and settle back as well, understanding the air between you is a volatile thing, and you should move forward carefully.

Into the silence, picking at the covers on the bed, you do let a little insecurity out. Just let yourself say it.

‘Well, here for as long as I’m allowed to be anyway,’ you mumble, hoping it conveys the question you’re too afraid to ask. Can I stay?

Din doesn’t say anything at first, but his eyes roam over you and you have to fight not to squirm under his gaze. Not react to the heat it’s building within you.

He moves a hand to you again and that heat flares. But rather than touching you, he lands it on the armour guard still clipped to your shoulder. A piece of the set the Armourer had had made for you.

‘You have come to be more accepted here than you realise,’ he says. You sense his thumb tracing back and forth over a specific spot, a tender caress. Tilting your head to the side to try to see, you can just make out a scorched tear where an enemy weapon must have grazed over the leather – and the dark grey steel underneath it.

‘What?’ You move your hand across as Din fluidly unclasps the piece so you can take hold of it and get a proper look.

Cradling it, you gaze up in disbelief. 

‘Beskar?’

‘Mmhm,’ he affirms. You look back down, draw your own thumb over the split to feel the cold bite of sacred steel.

‘I don’t understand.’ Tears prickle your eyes. One falls to land on Din’s thumb where it has come to rest over yours. He palms it into a fist, draws it back.

‘You will,’ he replies, voice soft. ‘Soon. There’s things for you to know, when we return to the Covert.’

His tone draws you from the shoulder piece back to his face – he’s nervous, hesitant, trying to not spook the wild thing before him.

The you of several months ago would have let what he just said set you on a panic spiral. Let it burrow into all your insecurities and trauma. Let it put a wall around you.

But the you of right now fends it off, reminding yourself that the price was just too damn high. The cost of giving in to fear and paranoia would end up destroying you. You know this now. Just trust him, you tell yourself. Remember what he said. Just be patient.

So you give a nod, an acknowledgement that you’ll wait to learn more. He relaxes a little.

Still, you have to work to not fret about what’s to come. So in the quiet that follows, your mind wanders back to the battle instead. Scenes and snippets dance across your consciousness. One thing jumps out at you, and you blurt it out.

‘Hey, why’d your jetpack cut out?’ you ask. He starts at your sudden turn in this conversation, but goes with it.

He looks embarrassed though. ‘Um, that’s…’ he mumbles, rubs palms together. ‘It’s only really powerful enough to carry just the one… person.’

‘Ah, too much weight?’ you ask.

At his chagrined look, a short laugh bursts out of you – breathy and full of relief. In response, Din smiles, with lips curving and teeth showing. The sight punches the air from your lungs.

‘Guess I’ll have to see about an upgrade,’ he says dryly.

Hells, and you’re gonna let that sit with you for a bit.

More bits come back. The miraculous course of events is overwhelming now that adrenaline and shock aren’t flooding your system.

‘And how would you have taken out Cephlate’s ship if I wasn’t here?’ you wonder aloud. ‘If I was still on the ground with…’

‘I don’t know,’ he admits. ‘I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.’

‘You had the second controls installed…’ Din shrugs, tips his chin and looks up at the ceiling, you see the faintest crawl of a blush on his neck. It’s charming as hell.

‘Let’s call it… hopeful planning,’ he offers. ‘I wanted to be prepared for anything.’

‘You were,’ you breathe. ‘You always are.’ He smiles again. You could get so used to that.

Another question bubbles up, but Din senses it and shushes you.

‘We can do a full forensic later – and talk more, I swear. But I think we’re about to—’ R5’s binary burbles a warning over the ship intercom. ‘Run low on fuel,’ Din finishes. 

He examines you with an ‘okay to move?’ kind of expression and you nod.

As you each move to stand, careful to give space to the other, the sensations of your body rush into your awareness. Unpleasant, irritated, and clammy.

You stop in the doorway, turn back. ‘Um, D- Din?’

He straightens from collecting his helmet and turns to you, listening.

‘When we’ve landed, can I-- would there be time for me to…’ You raise an arm covered in dried blood to rub it across your neck, caked in dust. Drop it to the cut-away hole exposing your abdomen, also bloody. Dither before thinking hells with it. Just ask. ‘Would it be okay for me to use the fresher quick?’ You mumble it out in a rush. Grubby and self-conscious. ‘I just…’

‘Of course,’ he says, voice a low rumble. ‘Anything.’

Not long later, you stand under the warm stream of water revelling in the sensation. You know you don’t have much time, but you linger long enough to feel yourself seeping back into your skin. Coming home. Rivulets of cleansing moisture travel down your body, as you let the dirt and the blood and the months on months of heartbreak wash off and away.

--

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[drawingdroid]

The Unknown Regions V

A Din Djarin x Fem Plus Size Reader Fic

Summary: Grogu is gone and Din Djarin, surprisingly, needs your help. As an astrophysicist, you haven't seen a lot of action, but you're onboard the Razor Crest without a second thought. Flying to the Wild Space together will be a life-changing experience for both of you. In more than one way.

The Unknown Regions Masterlist | Read it on AO3

Warnings: Expect conversations about weight, body dysmorphia and internalised fatphobia that may be triggering, so read at your own discretion; reader is AFAB and user she/her pronouns; no use of y/n; smut; the bucket stays on; naked female clothed male; fluff and smut; hurt and comfort; Sad Din :(

Word count: 3,136

A/N:  I've taken so long to close this chapter since I was having a major episode of autistic burnout bothering me. But slowly I'm recovering and finally forced myself to do the things I enjoy like writing fics! So I'm back with this story! It keeps getting longer so I initially planned 5 chapters but they'll end up being 7. This one is longer and then 6 will be pure filth ;) and 7 will serve as a kind of epilogue. Strap on for some confessions and feelings in this one! Also, keldabe kiss if you catch the reference in the chapter end!

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“Hi sweetheart”, you cooed, your tone soft and quiet.

The kid was poking his little face behind the doorframe, looking at his dad and you alternatively. The first day after rescuing him, he didn’t want to eat anything and Din was crazy worried. Normally, he said, he had quite the appetite. The boy just napped on his father’s chest, sometimes waking up weeping from nightmares. Your heart ached for him. What had he possibly gone through on that planet to be like that? Din and you decided that waiting for you to be introduced to Grogu was the best since he wasn’t feeling safe. But for the last hours, he seemed like he was recovering, eating finally some food and looking better. 

As Din expected, the whole plan was aimed to lure him into a trap. An act of revenge from some pirates that, thankfully, didn’t know anything about the kid’s powers and just abducted him as bait when they couldn’t defeat his dad back on Tatooine. He came all hurt from the battle. You had been anxiously waiting for him, feeling powerless to stay back, but accompanying him would have been a liability. To keep yourself busy, you run some diagnostics about the planet. It wasn’t the moment to be excited, but landing on a planet you had just discovered was something any scientist would dream about. So you were distracted by studying the atmosphere and taking some samples from the soil when you saw him limping through the forest, you left your tools to run towards him. You were going to ask when he put his pointer finger where his lips would be in a universal signal. Silence. Then, he looked between his arms and you followed. Between his strong arms, there was bundled the most precious creature you had ever seen. His son. The baby was snoring softly under his blanket and you nodded in understanding.

After entering the hull, his arm over your shoulders, he didn’t let you give him treatment. His one and only goal was to be sure of the kid’s health. He took his temperature, listened to his tiny lungs and tried feeding him. Shortly after it was clear the only damage the boy had suffered was psychological. He didn’t rest nor sleep, and you accompanied him the whole time. Watching the baby rest on Din’s breastplate, and how the warrior caressed the little fuzzy head, made your heart go wild. The love and devotion he demonstrated to his kid only made you fonder of The Mandalorian.

After the incident that had interrupted your heavy make-out session, you didn’t touch again. Din was laser-focused on the mission, especially when you landed and he had to recover all the information possible about the enemy’s base. For that, it was useful to have brought your little drone droid with you, the type that was launched to unknown planets to retrieve information. Din frowned at the little droid at first, but when it proved its worth he became more accepting about it. It was the droid that provided a map of the underground base, checked if the air was breathable and let Din know how many enemies were stationed there.

When he didn’t start the take-off protocol upon his arrival, you were worried about your safety but didn’t say anything. Later you’d learn he had killed them all. How that information should have felt? Frightening, probably, disgusting. But the fact that he slayed more than twenty pirates just to avenge his son and ensure his safety was kind of incredible. You only admired him more for that. 

Before arriving on the planet, you had lamented the lack of intimacy. Your rational self told you he was having complicated feelings, that he was preparing himself for the mission and didn’t have time for that. In fact, he was making an inventory of his weapons and cleaning them regularly. But the thing was that your feelings were hurt and you couldn’t stop overthinking about your past intercourse. He had been so vulnerable it had broken your heart. He had cried in your lap, and you had held him until he calmed down, caressing there where the beskar didn’t protect his flesh. You knew it wasn’t about you, for kriff’s sake, but that little voice inside your head said the contrary. That he had thought it better. That he felt repulsed by you. Like a mantra, you repeated his praise words in your head to keep the overthinking away when you were trying to sleep.

The intimacy didn’t return, but the boy did, and he was feeling better every day. Grogu was a curious and energetic kid and it took a lot to keep up with him. His appetite returned eventually, and you could see how Din was relaxing little by little. The day he introduced both of you, the baby had toddled towards your boot and hugged it, and then started to babble incoherently. It turned out to be a good signal because from that day you became buddies. With any spare part, cloth or scrap, you made him toys and invented little games to let Din rest from time to time. You grew very fond of the kid, he was a charmer and you liked children. Often, his dad observed you both, normally after waking up from a much-needed nap. He stated immobile, looking at both of you, and you’d flash him a smile. Maybe he didn’t want you anymore, maybe it had been just a desperate moment of need, but something about the way his hands twitched when he looked at you gave you hope.

Eventually, you needed to refuel and buy supplies on your way to Tatooine. You didn’t want to think about the day all of this would end. You tried not to. But the shadow was there. The fact was that you didn’t miss your workplace. All the return trip, you had been working on your data about the new planet and sending it to the observatory, discovering further about the chemistry of its atmosphere and soil. You’d been researching about the moon you saw when you were in orbit, a satellite you didn’t notice from the observatory. It was real, it was tangible. It wasn’t only numbers and abstract calculations, a part you enjoyed, but now you had discovered it wasn’t enough.

The planet you had landed on for your supply run was a safe one, so you accompanied Din through the market. Compared to Tatooine, this place was so lush and colourful, so you were enjoying yourself a lot by asking vendors and looking through things.

“Do you like this carpet?” Din surprised you with his question while you were checking some shawls.

“What?” He just pointed to a beautiful and fluffy carpet hanging on a stall.

“It’s lovely! It’ll warm the Razor Crest for sure, the kid can play on it…”

“It’s for you.” He cut you, changing his weight uncomfortably.

“I ruined your carpet back on Tatooine. By bleeding.” 

Your laugh took him by surprise apparently. After everything, he was thinking of replacing your carpet? He was so, so sweet and your heart ached a bit.

“You don’t need to buy me a carpet, you have already given me more than more than I could dream of.” You didn’t intend to sound that deep, it was only a carpet for maker’s sake! But the truth was that you felt so grateful for the opportunity Did had given you by travelling with him. He tilted his head and crossed his arms. The kid started to play with the carpet’s tassels, but all of Din’s attention was on you.

“I don’t understand. You left everything to help us. The least I could do…” He looked to both sides, noticing all the vendor’s eyes were on them. There wasn’t a place to have that conversation. “Let’s go back to the Crest.” You nodded and followed after untangling the kid from the soft tassels. It was a beautiful carpet, to be honest.

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After spending the day in the market, full of new and exciting things, the kid was snoring even before arriving at the Razor Crest. Both of you stayed silent to not disturb the baby, so your conversation was postponed for the moment.

Din had landed on a quiet forest clearing, and the only sound was the humming of the nocturnal birds. The temperature was nice, so silently you both agreed to light a campfire to cookdinner and luckily, hang out a bit. He went to put Grogu in his little hammock while you looked for firewood, so you had some space for yourself to think.

“Don't go too far,” he'd said seriously, and as other times you noticed his gaze lingering more than necessary in you. You'd smiled and rolled your eyes playfully. He was worrying too much, this was a safe planet after all. But you couldn't deny that his concerns about your safety warmed your heart a little too much.

While looking for the most promising branches in the surroundings of the clearing, you thought about the carpet event. It made you think about your home. You felt ashamed about how little though you had put on the fact that you'd be in your cabin again, soon. The little space you had worked hard to get, your sanctuary. And you didn't miss it a little bit. Well, maybe your bathtub and scented candles. But that was it.

The fact was that flying in the Razor Crest felt like home. And it didn't have anything to do with the old hunk of metal and its barren, utilitarian interior. It was Din, who made you feel safe, your unspeakable connection. How he had held you, as the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And the addition of the child only had made the sensation grow. The little critter was beyond adorable and you loved the humble routines the three of you had established. And observing how his dad took care of him, so gently and patiently, only made you grow fonder of the Mandalorian.

But everything had to end. Something too similar to grief started to grow inside of your chest. You pressed the firewood harder against your body. There was enough to light a nice bonfire so you decided to return to the Crest. After all, you had a pending conversation with Din.

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Together you started the campfire and prepared a delicious meal with the fresh produce from the market. You insisted on cooking something from your birthplace since the ingredients were available, and Din indulged. Since you were flying together, he would always wait to eat after you or eat in the cockpit, but the stew was ready and he wasn't moving. You didn’t know what to do.

“I'll go change, tell me if you like it!” Din looked at you and nodded slowly. It was strange, he was even more silent than normal.

Putting your night clothes on, you felt relieved. With what you had been wearing, although cute, your thighs had been burning after some hours of walking in the warm weather. You refreshed yourself a little and checked if the kid was still asleep and well.

“Are you visible?” You asked before going down the hull, hoping he had had enough time to have dinner in peace.

“Yes, you can come out.” You descended the ramp eager to have your homemade dinner, but you had to stop a moment to admire the sight. He looked beautiful under the flames, reflecting them in the beskar he always kept impeccable. “What?” He asked, catching you mesmerized by him. Your heart instantly spiked, feeling caught.

“Nothing just…your beskar looks…beautiful.” Your cheeks warmed, and you activated again your legs to sit beside the campfire. He passed a full bowl of the stew to you, still steamy and you thanked him.

“It was delicious,” he commented casually after a while. “I even had a second serving.” You lifted your eyebrows, knowing how rare that was for him. He ate the bare minimum, even less than a man his size needed, you suspected.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it,” you responded, finishing the last drops of your meal. “My mother used to prepare this when I was feeling gloomy, it's…a comfort food.” You smiled, remembering how your mom would pace around the kitchen while you whimpered about your last teenage drama and how after a while, she'd produce the delicious stew that shut you up and made you feel much better. 

Din looked at the empty pot as if it contained all the responses to the secrets of the universe. 

“Did it work?” You asked out of nothing, feeling brave after the magic stew. Din looked at you, pot still in his hands.

“What?”

“The stew. Something is bothering you, right? Did it make it better?” You bite your lip, worrying about being intrusive. But was it a dream? The closeness you experienced with him? Deep in your heart, you were craving that vulnerability again. So you had to try.

Din sighed deeply and put the pot away. Intertwining his gloved hands, it looked like he was picking the right words and your chest tightened with anticipation.

“You've been…so kind. To me. To us. I don't know how to repay you.” His voice sounded husky and he looked troubled, you even felt bad. Bad because this good, caring man, felt like kindness was some type of currency and what that implied. 

How harsh has your life been, Din Djarin?

Carefully, you sat a bit closer to him. “Din, hear me out.” his helmet turned so fast when you said his name it was almost comical. “I didn't help you looking for something in return. First, you were wounded and I couldn't just let you die on my carpet.”  You grinned mentioning the blasted carpet again. “And then we were in Mos Espa and I saw a father in need who had lost his child.”

Remembering his sorrow then was almost painful. It had hurt watching him navigate the fear, the loss.

You waited, almost able to hear the gears of his brain, thinking about the possibility of disinterested kindness. 

“Before…in the market…you said I've already given me more than more than you could dream of.” His voice was quieter now and he was observing the fire. A question lingered in the air. 

You inhaled sharply hearing your sappy words in his mouth, feeling utterly ashamed. You were referring to traveling to the Unknown Regions, to the planet you had discovered, but it was more than that. It was the quiet intimacy of your day to day with them, his little thoughtful details to you, how he was determined to teach you to fly, or the weight of Grogu when he napped on your chest. 

Would you be brave? He had opened the door, but it was your decision to cross. You were afraid: if you opened your mouth, there wouldn’t be a way to come back. The point of no return.

“I’ve never felt like this before.” You confessed, trying to have the courage and looking at his visor. “I've never been further from home but with you… I feel safe to navigate even the Unknown Regions.” 

You twisted your nightgown in your hands, feeling like you could die from the embarrassment. Lucky for you he was going to leave you soon in Tatooine, because you'll never recover if he didn't feel the same. But once started your brain didn't stop to run all the things you wanted to say to him, like a dam breaking.

“I don't want anything in exchange for my help because being with you is the reward.” It was cheesy but it was also the truth. Now that you had bared your heart, you felt relief, but also like you were going to throw up. 

He had listened to you still like a beskar statue and your anxiety was spiking. The initial braveness had faded and now the overthinking was waiting for its moment to torture you.

But then he moved. Grabbed your hand, wrapping yours in his bigger palm. Like that first night when he told you about Grogu and you comforted him.

“Mesh’la.” All his body was now turned to you like he wasn’t only listening with his ears but all of him. “Is that true?” The emotion that his modulated voice transmitted, close to breaking, was a rare thing for him. It made you shiver as you squeezed his hand back.

“Yes Din, everything of it. I know I  should find myself wanting to go home after all these weeks, but I already feel like home here, with you.” Now even your ears felt hot and you had to look elsewhere or you’d combust.

Din sighed heavily. “You love your job, and you’re great at it.”

“That’s true,” you admitted, a pinch of sorrow fiding your chest, but also hopeful because he hadn’t rejected you yet. And because of what he had been implying.

Din looked at the Razor Crest, and then his gaze returned to you. “I haven’t felt at home for a long, long time,” he confessed, and something in you ached at the confession, “but since you’re onboard…” The Bounty Hunter looked at his boots and then cleared his throat. “I’m sorry I’m not good with words” At this point, your eyes were glossy and your lower lip was trembling.

“You’ve said plenty, Din.” He inhaled sharply and then gathered the courage to wrap your waist in an embrace. You happily curled against his cuirass, nesting your face against the crook of his neck. His right hand hadn’t left yours for a moment. The warmth you felt was incomparable with nothing you’d sensed before. It was like being so full of affection that you were in danger of spilling it. You wanted to smile and cry. 

“We’ll figure things out, mesh’la,” he said softly, tracing shapes in your back.

Goosebumps formed in your skin and inevitably you remembered the last (and first) time you were intimate. You were longing for another moment like that between you. The commanding but kind way Din had spoken to you, his adoring yourds and hands exploring your supple flesh? You sighed against his covered neck and his masculine scent filled your nostrils. It had an immediate effect on you, and soon arousal started to pool between your thighs.

“Din…,” you started, voice a little thick from desire.”...would you touch me tonight, please?”

His whole body tensed and his grip on you tightened. There was a knot in your stomach. There was a limit to how forward a girl could be on the same day.

“As you wish, mesh’la.” And before you could protest, he was carrying you to the belly of the Crest.

[fanficwriterforeverythingnerdy]

A Kenobi

You had spent a while traveling with the Mandolorian and his adopted son. He’d picked you up after a job on Dantooine. He’d stayed with a few days when it was time to leave Grogu made it clear you had to come with. Din was skeptical until he watched you with a blaster. You were lethal yet kind-hearted. If he knew why you were that gifted with a blaster, you weren’t sure if he’d stay around. 

You tried not to think too much about the war, and the part you had played. The friends you let down. The friends who didn’t even try to find you. How he’d never tried to find you. But the past was the past. You couldn’t hold onto it forever, but you also knew it would catch up with you eventually. You just didn’t think it would catch up with you this quickly though. 

You stood behind Din as the dark troopers tried to get to you all. Everyone in the Room aimed their blaster at the doors. Then you saw it. An X-Wing. 

“One X-Wing? Great we’re saved,” said Kara. 

“Incoming craft identify yourself,” said Bo. 

Then you felt it. Felt him. While the bond between you had dimmed over the years, you knew it was him. Grogu seemed to also feel his presence. Then it all made sense Grogu had called him here. You felt goosebumps cast their way down your arm. You gasped softly. Din noticed. The dark troopers paused their assault outside. 

“Why’d they stop?” asked Cara. 

Din looked at you and the kid. He knew you knew something. On the screen, a cloaked figure began to attack the dark troopers with a lightsaber. 

“A Jedi?” gasped Bo Katan. 

Din looked over. Moff Gideon took the distraction as an opportunity to shoot at Bo Katan he then aimed his blaster at Grogu. Din leaped in front of him shielding him with his beskar. 

“Drop it,” threatened Fennec. 

All weapons were trained on Gideon. You reached Grogu brushing your hand over his head. Cara knocked out Gideon with her blaster. Grogu walked over to the screen placed his tiny hand on the screen he glanced briefly at you. Din’s eyes were on both of you. You moved closer to Grogu.

“You called him here––didn’t you?” you said. 

He cooed in response. You sighed grabbing his other little hand. As the cloaked figure took out the last of the dark troopers Grogu looked directly at Din and whined trying to communicate with him. Din seemed to understand as he lifted him up Grogu’s hand slipping out of yours. 

“Open the doors,” said Din. 

“Are you crazy?” asked Fennec

“Do it,” you said. You didn’t miss the slight shake in it. 

Din looked back at you. He wanted to ask what was wrong but this was not the time. He placed Grogu in a chair and hit the button for the doors. You moved closer to Din and sighed out of anxiety. Time to confront your past. 

He walked in through the doors. Hood up with a green lightsaber in his grip. You dreaded him taking that hood off. The glow of his saber reflected off Din’s beskar.  He deactivated his lightsaber and placed it back on his belt. He reached up and tossed the hood back. There he was in all his glory. Luke Skywalker. Grogu peeked out behind the chair. 

“Are you a Jedi?” asked Din. 

“I am,” Luke said. 

His gaze met yours. A frown took over his features. He had changed. The all-black was not a bad look for him, but it was different from how you remembered him. Din glanced between the two of you. You tried to mask your emotions, but they were festering beneath. 

“I didn’t think our paths would ever cross again,” he said. 

“You thought or you hoped,” you said.

“Y/n,” he said softly, “I’m sorry.” 

“Sorry for what exactly Luke? You left me to die.” 

“I thought you’d come back, Y/n you have to believe that.” 

“I’m sorry,” interrupted Cara, “You two know each other? Wow Y/n, I didn’t think you knew any Jedi.” 

“They don’t know do they?” asked Luke.

“Luke––” you warned.

“Know what? Mesh’la what is he talking about?” asked Din. 

Luke kept his gaze trained on you. You glared in return. Everything was about to come out in the open. 

“You don’t know who she is do you?” 

“She’s Y/n L/n,” said Fennec, “What else do you wanna know?” 

“No. Not L/n––” 

“Luke––stop.” 

“Kenobi. Her name is Y/n Kenobi.” 

Bo Katan gasped. Everyone’s eyes were trained on you. 

“And she’s a Jedi like her father before her.” 

Silence enveloped the room. The only stare you worried about was Din. Your Din. You knew without being able to see his face that the trust that you’d built was now obliterated. Luke looked away from you glancing at Grogu. He held his hand out to him. 

“Come little one,” said Luke. 

Grogu gazed at you and Din. He was asking for permission to leave. 

“He doesn’t want to go with you,” said Din.

“He’s asking for your permission,” said Luke, “he is strong with the force, a talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect the child.” 

Luke looked at you at that part a hint of regret passed through his blue eyes. 

“ But he will not be safe til masters his abilities.” 

Din picked Grogu up holding him tenderly, 

“Go on,” he said. Voice soft like velvet. “That’s who you belong with. He’s one of your kind.” 

Din looked at you holding silently communicating to come here. You brushed against cold beskar and grabbed onto one of Grogu’s hands. 

“We’ll see you again,” Din spoke.

“We promise,” you finished. 

Grogu slipped his hand out of yours and brushed it against the bottom of your chin. He reached out again this time to Din. He swept his little hand against the helmet. Din carefully reached up to the helmet––you gasped and turned around refusing to look at him. 

“Alright pal,” his voice unmodulated, “it’s time to go. Don’t be afraid.” 

You turned slightly glancing at the back of Din’s head. A head you had only seen or felt in the dark of the Razor Crest. He set Grogu down and it was clear the kid was sad to go. You then heard familiar beeping––R2. Grogu seemed to recognize him. R2 beeped at the sight of you. You smiled. 

“Hello R2,” you said.

“You could come with us, Y/n. You could come home.” 

You sighed. You knew he’d say that. Knew he’d ask you to go home. Back with him. Back to Han and Leia. And while a part of you missed them you couldn’t forget what he’d done. 

“I am home Luke,” you said stepping back towards Din. 

He sighed. Luke pulled something off of his belt. Your lightsaber. He stepped towards you placing it in your hand. His touch lingered for a moment. 

“I’ll see you again Y/n. I feel it in the force.” 

You said nothing just taking your saber. Luke reached down and lifted Grogu in his arms. He looked at you and Din who now stood right beside you a tear trailing down his cheek.

“May the force be with you.” 

And just like that he and the child were gone. You felt eyes on you. You looked down at the ground. Now to deal with the present. Din interlocked your hands. 

“Mesh’la,” he said. Voice laced with sorrow, “Why––”

“Not here Din. Not here.” 

“Yes, here,” said Bo Katan, “you’re a Kenobi. Your Obi-Wan’s daughter.” 

You turned you gazed at the redhead. Before you met Din you did some digging into your past. Your mother was Satine Kyrze which made Bo your aunt. 

“Who–who is your mother?” Bo asked. 

“I never knew my mother,” you said “but I think you know who she was.”

Bo had removed her helmet. She reached a shaky hand up to her mouth. She maneuvered over to you and hugged you tightly. She let you go glancing at Din, 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

Everyone loaded up on the ship. Bo gave your shoulder a squeeze looking over at Din who had not yet put his helmet back on. You sighed. This wasn’t how you wanted him to find out. Bo walked out of the bay and headed to the flight deck leaving you and Din alone. You sat down on a nearby bench not daring to look at him. Din kneeled in front of you placing a hand on your thigh. 

“Cyar’ka, look at me,” he said. 

You always loved the sound of his voice without the helmet now you feared it. Din sighed placing his gloved hand on your chin guiding you to look at him. This was the first time you’d ever seen his face. And Maker he was beautiful. Deep brown eyes searched your own. They held a warmth to them. His hair was short but slightly wavy. His nose was cute. His mouth held a slight frown to it. He was studying you. 

“Cyar, why didn’t you tell me?” he asked glancing down at your saber. 

“I–I was just afraid.” 

“Afraid of what Cyar?” 

“Afraid you’d hate me.” 

Gloved hands cupped both of your cheeks holding you in  place so you had no other choice but to look at him. His eyes were so sad. 

“Mesh’la I could never hate you. You’re all I have left.” 

Tears streaked down your face. You knew what the next question would be. “Could you have trained him?” 

“Yes.” 

“Why didn’t you?” 

“I haven’t used the force for a few years now.” 

“Because of what happened?” 

You nodded as more alligator tears leaked out. 

“What did happen?”

“It happened on Bespin in Clou–Cloud,” you hiccuped, “City.” 

Din ran a hand through your hair while the other rested on your thigh again. He urged you to continue.

“I–it was Vader,” you shuddered, “he knew our relationship and who I was. He set a trap for Luke and me. He used our friends as bait. Luke fell out of the bottom of the tower. He escaped. But I couldn’t. I was stuck with Vader. I thought he was going to kill me. He took my saber. And placed me under arrest. I spent a few months in prison. I was supposed to be terminated. But an old friend saved me.” 

“Ashoka,” Din said. “Yeah, Ashoka. She hid me somewhere safe. I wanted to go back to the rebellion but Ashoka told me they believed I was a lost cause. Even Luke. So I ran. I ran from my past. I changed my name and never looked back.” 

“Cyar’ka, my sweet girl, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay it’s not entirely Luke’s fault but it still hurt.” 

Din pulled you into his lap. He kept you as close as possible. His face pressed into your neck inhaling your scent. 

“Cyare, I love you. “I love you more.” 

“We should get married.” 

You looked at him as he gazed right at you. You stroked his face. His beautiful face. “Okay,” you whispered. A smile graced your lips.

“I want to be your Riduur, Mesh’la.” 

“You’ll always have me Din.” 

You curled into his arms. The events of the day catching up with you. You placed your head in the crook of his shoulder slowly nodding off. He was yours. He would always be your home. Even if one member was no longer with you.