#mando needs a drink

[primusdemoniccreatrix]

Ordinary Miracles (The Mandalorian x Reader)

(Almost done with another final thing so I am, of course, going to do something cute. Reader is gender neutral, also I made up a planet cause Marie Kondo said I could. GIF by @scifisblog)

Ordinary Miracles

The Mandalorian: Din Djarin x Reader

The Razor Crest sat at the top of a rocky outcrop overlooking a beach, the perfect place to be with the planet's climate being warm and sunny, and the need to stretch your limbs after the last hunt that your little three-personned group had embarked on six standard days ago.

Din's fingers moved across the dials, turning off the engines and other mechanical things as excited muffled whispers floated from the main hull up to his receptors, his helmet picking up on your rushed words and Grogu's squeals of joy as you made plans to go to the beach. He could hear the baby's giggles as your footsteps rang on the ship's floor, and he knew you must have been waiting for an opportunity for an outing like this on a warm, mild planet.

"Mando, are you coming? Day's not getting any younger, come on!" your voice echoed, playful impatience making him sigh behind his helmet in mock annoyance.

Finishing his last check, he climbed down the ladder to see you holding Grogu in one arm, and in the other holding a...basket of sorts. You were dressed in clothes for warmer weather, light and airy that looked as though it was vacation wear in its soft colours and entrancing patterns, but what caught his attention most was the smile on your face, warm and bright and raring to go.

"What's the rush?" he chuckled, helmet tilting towards the basket.

You waved a dismissive hand, laughing along. "Oh, you'll see, isn't that right, baby?" you cooed, the baby giggling as you tickled his chin.

Din shook his helmet, snickering as he watched you hurried off the ramp to get into the sun. He jogged right after you to keep up (and he too, missed the freedom of the air just a little bit), closing the ramp as he followed your path towards the beach.

The sand of the planet Krevis was not like the rough-textured grains of Tattooine, but softer spongey flakes that crumbled like snow that didn't melt. It was soft to the touch, and with water it made a solid flat that felt like volcanic pumice, but somehow spongey. Perfect for Grogu, who was already toying with the sand while you opened up the basket, setting up everything while keeping an eye on him.

Din watched you, a few paces behind, as you pulled out a cloth that looked like one of his old capes that you decided to somehow re-dye and repurpose, spreading the now peridot-green blanket atop the sand, then placing dishes from the basket to weigh the blanket down. You set up a small plate for Grogu, redirecting him from his little sand play to his plate, where you'd placed some berries and little meats and vegetable rations for him to enjoy, a display you took time in making. The child cooed at the food, already snapping up a berry you fed him, giggling as you warned him about the juice.

Din arrived in a moment, the jangle of his weapons alerting you he had come. He watched the display with amusement, seeing his little son enjoying his lunch.

"Here, Mando, there's a spot for you too," you called to him, scooting over as you patted the empty space next to you.

"You planned-" he began.

"A picnic? Why yes, yes I did" you chuckled, a hand on your chest clutching imaginary pearls, feigning haughtiness as he took a seat beside you, legs outstretched due to his greaves.

You took a cup from the basket, filling it with a yellow-looking liquid, before grabbing a mini-freezer unit, and using a spoon, scooped out some...frozen fruits into his cup, giving it a stir. You then added a small sprig of some herb, tearing up the tiny leaves and putting it into the glass, before using the spoon to press the leaves into the glass to bring out the flavour, it seemed. Din watched the fruit and herb bleed into the drink, creating a myriad of colours that looked like some nobleman's art collection he'd seen when he'd taken a bounty a decade ago. You seemed pleased with the concoction, before you took out a small pipe and placed it inside the drink, before handing it to him with a smile. "For you".

For him?

His confusion must have made itself known through the helmet, as you nodded once more and handed him the drink. "I know you can't drink without your helmet, so I added a straw; that way, you can sip the drink without moving the helmet, and it has the added benefit of not letting the fruity ice cubes freeze your lips" you joked.

His helmet tilted from your face to the drink in hand. You'd...made this...for him...and made sure he could enjoy it in public? It was quite...thoughtful of you, to ensure he could partake-

A sudden apprehension seemed to come over you, as you offered: "I-I can take it away if you don't want it, you don't have to if you don't want-"

"No, sorry, I- ah," he stammered, surprise still in him, "I'm just surprised. Thank you, I'd be glad to try it". That seemed to set you at ease, as you asked him to let you know how it tasted.

Taking the straw between his fingers, Din eased the small pipe under his helmet, locating it to his mouth and eventually wrapping his lips around the opening. He took a sip, cool liquid with bursting flavour settling on his tongue.

You were a Maker-damned artist.

The flavours all complimented one another, citrussy and sweet, the tang of a certain berry he couldn't recall on his tongue as the herb, he recognized you calling it 'lavendar', set a more floral warmth to the drink. He hastily drank in more, savouring the flavours.

You giggled, and he turned his helmet to you with the straw still in his mouth, a sight that sent more giggles from your lips, teeth starting to show in your mirth. He tilted his head in question. He looked so cute.

"I take it the drink was good? I, ah, I heard you gulping it down" you replied.

Din's face heated up in embarrassment. Was it that loud? Maker. He took the straw out of his mouth to speak, and to slow the kriff down. He nodded his assent.

"It was really good, I really liked it. Thank you".

You beamed at him, and for a moment he forgot the blunder he'd made earlier. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. You keep drinking, and let me know if you want more, okay? I'm gonna go to the water with the kid" you told him, nodding in return to him before turning to the baby, who'd finished his food on his own and was now in your arms as he toddled towards the beach, fascinated by the water and spongy sand.

Din watched you coo to the baby, holding him in the air and settling him close to your chest a few times, making the small green thing laugh in excitement. You kicked off your footwear, bare feet in the sand as you made your way towards the blue-violet water, courtesy of the chemical builds of the sand.

You made a small sandcastle with the child, Din watching you both as you played in the sand, child and guardian laughing in harmony with the waves splashing against the shore. He watched as you both wrote things in the sand, made a small sandcastle and decorated it with some made shapes and shells, before you both walked to the water, just enough that only Grogu's feet got wet and there was no danger of the tide. You guided him to walk along the water, Grogu laughing as he seemed to play with the speedy waves on the spongy elevated rock that slowed the tide down into miniscule waves. You ran alongside him, ankles in the water, splashing and shielding him from deeper water. You took him in your arms again, holding him to you as you waded out into knee-deep water, holding Grogu as he reached into the ocean and caught a small tadpole wiggling about. He became sad when he dropped it, but soon caught another one, and this time he slurped it up without a thought, and Din laughed to himself as he heard you scold a warning to Grogu who seemed to giggle at your distress, especially when you turned back to the Mandalorian he called father and made an incredulous face, shaking your head as you kissed the child's ear.

Din took another sip of the drink, watching you both play once more before he nearly choked himself.

The sun haloed you, Grogu sharing in your light as you both smiled at each other, and Din couldn't hold back his small gasp at the image. You looked so soft, so...glorious, like you were a saint, of divine origin.

You were the epitome of sun-kissed beauty.

You turned back to him and smiled, pointing to him and waving as you suggested Grogu and you 'wave to daddy!'

Din nodded at you both, heart fit to burst from the beskar and jump into your waiting hands as he lost all thought except of you and the baby you both called yours.

He smiled to himself, and back to you under his helmet, basking in the warmth of your radiant smile and glowing soul, hoping that his actions spoke more than he could, lost in you both, lost in his aliit, and he hoped the Maker made you aware, or that he could make it known how much he loved you both, and he hoped you'd stay with him, his aliit, to the end of his days.

Mando'a words:

Aliit- Mando'a, meaning: family

[fangirlforeversthings]

Them: imagine all of your favourite fictional characters coming together in a meet up

Me:........soo.......

...four ancient spartans including a polemarkhos a king a misthios and a general, a pirate captain, two dwarfs, an elf, the King of gondor, a former assasin te*rorist, three superheroes, five witchers, two vampires, two jedi knights, a jedi master and his clone commander, a clone captain, a Senator, a mandalorian and his adoptive alien son, a firebending war general, and the devil walked into a bar....

[thesummerestsolstice]

The voyage west at the end of Return of the King is extremely funny to me, because just look at who's on board. You've got:

Frodo Baggins, hero of the Shire, in need of healing but also excited to see Valinor and meet the legendary elves who live there, a gentle soul

Elrond Halfelven, as kind as a summer, looking forward to peace west of the sea, probably wants to go chill out in a cottage with his wife for the next thousand years

Which seems fine. And then we get to everyone else.

Gandalf, cheeky bastard who's gotten so used to being a weird old wizard in Middle-Earth that's he's forgotten what Maia are supposed to act like, will immediately cause problems

Bilbo Baggins, noted storyteller, definitely planning to break into Aule's halls to see his dwarf friends, will ask all the elves weird questions and then sing about their lives and deaths in front of them, will immediately cause problems

Galadriel, who came to Aman half for Celebrian and Elrond's sake and half to taunt all her cousins about being the only one of them to survive the First Age, enjoys causing problems, will immediately cause many problems

(Also, to be clear, these are not three isolated problem-causers, they absolutely spent the entire trip to Valinor actively planning to give Amanyar society and the Valar an aneurysm.)

I just love the idea of Elrond, now reunited with Celebrian, and Frodo happily having tea with Elwing and Earendil, with nothing to interrupt them but the gentle sounds of the tides.

Meanwhile Galariel, Bilbo, and Gandalf are collectively bullying Mandos into releasing Maglor Feanorian from the halls because:

Bilbo wants to read him his translation of the Noldolante, which is written as a cheery Hobbit drinking song

Elrond always complained about how Gandalf and Maglor were both insufferably vague about advice and Gandalf needs to make sure he's more infuriating than Maglor as a matter of his wizardly pride

He still owes Galadriel money

[lotusunique]

Nights like this pt.2

Armando Aretas x Black Fem! Reader

Sorry this took a lil minute to come out guys I had to proof read! Enjoy my loves💋🌺

“He don’t wanna be saved, don’t save em. That is not my nigga don’t claim him”, You rap along to Megan thee stallion. You weren’t really the dancing in public type but you were already six or seven shots in,which meant you were letting loose.

As you dance against Kelly, absolutely having the time of your life, you spot a guy staring at you from across the dance floor.

“Go dance with him”,Kelly says. “Girl if you wanna go dance on your man that’s all you gotta say.”,you say playfully as you continue to dance. “Now you know that’s not what I meant”,She laughs. “Mhm, girl you can go dance with your man. I’m gonna go get another drink”, you smile before making your way over to the bar.

“Can I please get a sex on the beach”,you beam, your cheeks flushed from the liquor already settling in. The guy from earlier quickly appears beside you.

“You can put hers on my tab”,he says to the bartender before turning to you. “Thanks but you didn’t need to do that”,you give a small smile.

“It’s no problem. I was wondering if you’d like to dance with me.”,he says as you sip from the fruit filled drink.

You look around,realizing Armando still wasn’t here. You let out a small sigh, “Sure”, before finishing your drink. Before you know it, you’re in the middle of the dimly lit club, dancing on a random stranger. For some reason you had wished Armando was there, being the one holding you.

But you shrugged the thought off. He decided not to follow through on his word so fuck him.

“I never got your name”,The stranger says. “Y/n”,you say still dancing against him. “Nice to meet you pretty girl, I’m Eric”,he says spinning you around. You let out a laugh, “Thank you Eric”.

The casual dancing turns into serious sensual dancing as “Wus Good/Curious” by Partynextdoor starts to play.

“Ride me (Ride me), 'til I'm ('Til I'm)

'Bout to ('Bout to), cum (Cum)

PND’s vocals sing as Eric’s hands start to move softly up and down your body, the liquor making his touch feel even softer than it actually is. You gently grind your hips into his.

What you didn’t know is that while you were so caught up with your new boo, Armando was watching you across the club the entire time.

With a deep gruff , he realized he’d seen enough when he saw this random dude place his hands on your ass.

Out the corner of your eye you spot, someone walking up to you. You feel a strong tug on your arm. You look up in confusion before realizing it’s Armando.

“Um why are you on me Mando”,you ask, your words slurring somewhat. He gives you a confused glance. Seeming as you’ve never called him Mando you had to be drunk. “I’m taking you home, you’re already drunk as is”,he says clearly heated.

“Bruh let her go”,Eric attempts to “defend” you, which you find adorable. “Eric it’s fine, we’re friends from work”,you say coldly. Armando feels the chill in your tone, cutting him deep in a way. The two of you walk outside the club, to talk somewhere more private.

“What is your problem”,you shake him off you. “The fuck you mean what’s my problem.”,he asks looking at you like you’re crazy. “Exactly what the fuck I just said”,you cross your arms.

Girll that liquor got you putting some base in your voice!

“You have no right to feel any type of way about ANY of the choices I make.”,you explode. He takes a step back almost shocked at what’s coming out your mouth. “Yea that’s right. Be shook nigga”,You roll your eyes.

“First off I waited all night for you like some fuckin idiot. Just for you not to show up. Someone takes interest in me, someone wants to fuck me, and now you got a problem with it? It’s not like you were gon be the one doing it”, you spout. He narrows his eyes at you while listening to you rant.

“You play this game with me where you get under my skin, make me think you feel something for me just to turn around and play with my emotions. And truly you got me fucked up. I don’t give a damn if you are Armando Aretas with all the bitches on

you-“

You’re cut off by Armando grabbing your face and kissing you passionately. The taste of his soft lips, sweet and supple, shocks you, you’d only dreamt of this moment never expecting it to actually come true.

Leaning into his hands and into the kiss you feel rain start to drizzle before the two of you pull away. You look at him in complete awe of the events that just occurred. He stares down at you, wondering how it ever took him so long to make his move.

“Now this right here is some romantic shit”,You look up at the beautiful scene unfolding around you, causing you the two of you to laugh. “Look I don’t care about anybody else . I want you and only you. Seeing him with his hands on you, got me heated okay”, he explains.

You look up at him wondering if this is real or not. Armando eyes you with a huge smile upon his face, unbeknownst to you, he’s studying how beautiful you look.

“And I’ll kill any pendejo that even thinks about looking at you y/n”, he says, looking down at you.

Without even giving a response, you smash your lips into his. He pulls away before whispering, “Pero para responder a tu pregunta, si fuera por mí, te tendría aquí ahora mismo.”. (But to answer your question, if it it was up to me, I'd have you right here right now)

You look up at him, confused by what just came out of his mouth. Were you trippin’? Or did he just say he wanted to fuck you right here right now…

You squint your eyes at him, “Did you just say what I think you just said?”, you ask, thinking that you just imagined all of that. “I don’t repeat myself precioso “,he says with low eyes, just like last night in the office.

[djarins-cyare]

Held Is The Seed for the fic asks game, please! <3

Hi lovely Caroline! ❤️ Thanks for the ask and sorry it’s taken me a while to get to it. I’m offering a snippet further down as compensation 😇

The title Held Is The Seed comes from a quote by John Harrigan: “Happiness held is the seed, happiness shared is the flower”. There’s no specific line in the fic that refers to it (at least, not yet), but it seemed appropriate because Din has always hunted his bounties alone, whereas in this fic, he’s teamed up with someone else. Still, he keeps himself relatively closed off from her, essentially holding the seed of his happiness close to his chest. It’s only when he fully opens up and shares himself with her (in traditional smutty fanfic fashion 😏) that his happiness has a chance to bloom.

It’s basically a four-part smut-fest. The concept is that they’re in a cantina (separately so as not to appear conspicuous or too threatening) to locate a potential source and get some intel. Reader is bored and drinking, and she gets chatted up by a random guy. He notices that she keeps glancing at the Mandalorian in the corner, assumes he’s got competition, and claims Mandos make poor lovers. Reader vaguely thinks Din is attractive but assumes he’s kind of sexless, but she defends his honour nonetheless and invents a few stories about him to shut her would-be suitor up…

“How would you know?” you challenge. “Maybe there are loopholes. Maybe he can take it off in the dark or if his partner wears a blindfold. Maybe he’s the best damn lay in this bar, and women tell stories about his legendary talent with his tongue. Did you consider that?” With your attention now entirely on Zabrak(ish), you can’t see Mando’s reaction to your somewhat lewd suggestions, but you can imagine he’s probably shocked. The two of you banter occasionally, but you know him to be a sweet guy when he hasn’t got his gruff hunter guise on, and you bet this kind of talk makes him blush. The one time you’d mentioned anything carnal in front of him, he had awkwardly slunk off to the cockpit and hidden for a few hours. You, however, are enjoying the expression on Zabrak(ish)’s face. It’s equal parts annoyed that you’re defending his rival and worried that you might be right and he’s lost the game. Hilarious. You need to press more. Swishing the whiskey in your glass, you take a swig and raise an eyebrow. “You wondered why I was looking at him. Maybe I’ve heard rumours. A Mandalorian in silver armour, the best in the parsec at licking and dicking. Fights well, fucks well.” You risk a glance at Mando and see he has his back to you now and is with a shifty-looking guy who is speaking furtively. The informant. You’re glad he’s distracted, to be honest. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t hear what you’re saying about him. It might reveal your desires, and since you work and live with this man, you shouldn’t complicate things. Zabrak(ish) now seems torn between erupting in anger or collapsing in tears. But emboldened by your success so far and the knowledge that Mando can’t hear, you decide to weave another false scenario to illustrate to this guy why he shouldn’t make assumptions about your partner. “And even if the helmet never comes off, maybe he’s got other talents. Knows exactly how and where to use his fingers to make a woman come in seconds. Talks so deliciously dirty through the modulator that he can get her off without even touching her. Has a huge cock and knows how to use it. And by the way, the whole mysterious armoured warrior thing is seriously attractive. So sorry, pal, you’re outmatched on this one.”

I’m sure you can see where this is going!

Din has, in fact, overheard, and he later offers to prove Reader’s speculations correct one by one. First with just his voice (dirty talk ahoy!), next with his fingers, then with his tongue, and lastly with his dick.

There’s a tiny snippet here from an old WIP challenge post taken from a paragraph near the end of the dirty talk scene. Depending on whether this gets much interest (which I doubt because I’m not tagging anyone), I may post something a little spicier later, but let’s just say Din finds an innovative use for that ridge along his shoulder pauldron… 😳

[spctrsgf]

the cantina

summary: men at a cantina are never a good sign. luckily, you’ve got one small trick up your sleeve that you didn’t even know you had. 

word count: 2.3k

warnings: f!reader (din uses the nickname “sweet girl,” I'M SORRY I COULDN'T PASS THE OPPORTUNITY UP), mentions of sex, protective din (deserves his own warning), fluffy as hell

a/n: i am SO sorry for my lack of activity, i've been so unbelievably unmotivated :((( here's an old fic i wrote because protective din has my heart and soul<3

“Hey.” Your head picks up at the sound of Din’s modulated voice, dragging you out of your head. The kid lets out a garble as your attention turns away from rubbing between his ears, but he quickly quiets when you resume your earlier motions. “Mhm?” Your eyes land on the thin strip of glass on his helmet in an attempt to hold his own gaze.

“Would you like to come with us?” 

Your eyebrows furrow. “To?”

Din’s helmet lifts as if in confusion, and it seems to hit him that he never vocalized his plan. “Into town. I need to meet Karga and the kid needs food.”

You look down at the kid, his pearly black eyes now pleading, and relent almost instantly. “Sure.”

Din nods, leaning against the wall as you get yourself together. You could feel his eyes tracking your moves, even through the visor, but he wasn’t judging. Just observing. It’s slightly unnerving, but you try to let it slide off your back. Pulling on a light jacket and sealing the kid in his capsule, the three of you then head on your way. 

You follow Din as he weaves diligently through both buildings and people, but it’s not like anyone’s really getting close. The locals lend you the courtesy of their attention as you pass, stopping to watch with folded emotion. Maybe they don't get many passersby here. 

Nonetheless, the harsh stares punch and stab their tiny claws into you as you fold in on yourself. The new notion makes you unbearably uncomfortable. In contrast, Din stays tall in front of you, the beskar wrapped around him serving as a barrier.

You drop your head at the snarl of one man you made the mistake of connecting eyes with, picking up your pace. As your footsteps become mindless, your mind prepares to delve into itself with the questions you’d since busied yourself away from since leaving the Crest. 

Why did he offer to take you with him?

Why was he talking to you now? He used to be so quiet.

Did he feel unsafe without you?

No, that wasn’t it. You couldn’t protect him half as well as he could on his own under all that armor. Hell, he was the one protecting you. 

Was he worried about you?

No, let’s be realistic here. He’s worried about the kid, and the kid’s recently taken a liking to you. Din wasn’t worried about you, he didn’t return your feelings…

You yelp as you nearly run into the said man’s back, avoiding a gnarly bruise from the rocket he had strapped on. Din turns, and you take a step back with increasingly red cheeks. “Sorry. I didn’t know we had stopped,” bubbles out of your mouth. 

He doesn’t say anything, just holds open the door for you to step in. It wasn’t meant to be rude, you know; he just didn’t talk unless he had to.

But, he didn’t have to ask you if you wanted to come earlier, he could have just told you to-

You squash that thought as you step into the cantina, straightening your shoulders. The atmosphere squeezes the air out of your lungs as everyone turns towards you. Or more accurately, Mando. 

He nudges you in gently as he sweeps past you, Karga already having his ecstatic greeting halfway out of his mouth.

You hover near the door, unsure of what to do. Sighing, you stride towards the bar, deciding to buy a drink and keep yourself occupied until Mando is done. You feel a cascade of eyes on you again, but this time, they’re on you for a different reason. You will your shoulders to not slump as you pull at your attire, now hating the way it hugged your form.

You gingerly place yourself on a barstool, ordering a random soda in a haste to have something to do. The bartender droid slides the drink to you, but before you can catch it, a hand reaches out to grab it.

“Put it on my tab.” The man next to you says as he plops himself onto the seat next to you. You reach out with a hand that shivers to grab the drink, meeting his gaze with a small smile.

“Thanks, but I can pay for it.” 

The man shakes his head. “How could I let someone as stunning as you pay for it? Please, allow me.” 

“Alright then. Thank you.” You take a sip of the drink. He seems nice enough. 

“I’m Qui.” He holds his hand out.

You respond with your name, meeting him halfway to shake, but instead of doing that, he lifts your hand to his mouth, placing a kiss on the back of it. 

You swallow deeply, retracting your hand. Is he flirting with me? Your brain swirls with this newfound discovery. No, that’s bullshit, don’t push it. Your eyes flick across his face quickly before dropping down to your drink. He wasn’t that cute at all, really. You much prefer men that wear a beskar helmet and have a kid with big green ears.

…too specific?

You could feel Qui’s gaze on you as you watch the condensation drip down the side of your glass, hovering in places that make you squirm. Oh Maker. You shift uncomfortably, apparently wiggling too much for the man next to you. His hand shoots out to grip your arm alarmingly fast, and you freeze, unsure whether or not to push him off. “Aren’t you gonna finish that drink, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. You hate that nickname. 

You cough to clear the shake in your voice, turning to meet his intense purple eyes. “I’m okay, thanks. I actually have some business I need to attend to, but thanks for the chat. And the drink.” You turn to walk away, but his hand grips your arm harder, yanking you into his chest. 

“I’ll come with you. Someone as attractive as you shouldn’t be walking home alone.” His eyebrows wiggles suggestively. 

You shake your head, pulling away from him again. “I’ll be fine, really. It’s just a few blocks away.”

Qui puffs out his chest slightly. “Are you sure?”

You nod, expelling out a quick; “Yep!”

“Could I get a method of contact then, love?”

Love. You only want to hear that one from one person's mouth, and it definitely wasn’t Qui’s.

“Uh, maybe another time?” You back up slightly, unsure of how to reject someone when it’d been so long since you’d been asked.

Qui surges forward and grips your arms again. “C’mon, please? You know you wanna meet up with me again.” 

Maker, how big is this man’s ego? It certainly wasn’t helping that everyone’s now turning to watch the scene unfold in front of them, none even thinking of reaching out a helping hand.

You yank yourself from his hands, taking on a sense of urgency. “No. I said no.” 

Qui’s face twists into a sour frown, jutting out a quip of your name and then “Give me fucking something to contact you with.” 

“N-“

Qui leans in, and you could smell the foul smell of alcohol reeking from his breath. “I said give me something. I won’t ask again.”

“Please stop.” You put your hands up and step back, beads of sweat rolling down your back. 

“Give it!” He yells, and if people weren’t looking then, they sure are now.

You decide that words weren’t going to get through to this man, no matter how hard you tried. Frozen in place, you brainstorm as quickly as you could. You need something that would threaten him, or even someone-

“Is there a problem here?” 

Ah. Like that.

You hear Mando come up behind you, jumping slightly when his hand grips the side of your waist as he comes to stand next to you. Qui frowns, muttering your name in confusion. “Who’s this-“

“I’m a Mandalorian.” Mando didn’t offer his hand out, only a tilt of the helmet.

“Well yeah, I see that-“ he turns to you with a sickeningly sweet smile. “C’mon, you're hanging with him? Ya haven’t even seen his face, I bet.” 

Mando’s hand tightens around your waist, and if looks could kill, Qui’d be fucking dead. A pile of fucking bones.

You surge out of Mando’s grip in a wave of anger, coming up to Qui’s chest. “I don’t need to see his face to know he’s not a fucking asshole like you.” 

Qui’s smile only falters for a few seconds before it renews even brighter. “Ah, I’m an asshole like this? Because you might be saying something different if you and I left right now.” 

Qui’s hand raises to grip your hip, but you’re being yanked backwards into a metal covered chest before he can do so much as move. Your shoulders relax as you puff out breaths of air, coming down from your surge of anger. Mando wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you both diligently out of the cantina, dropping a few credits to a waitress on your way.

The walk back to the ship is quiet, and you’d assume Mando is upset at you if it weren’t for the hand that grips your shoulder tightly. You and the kid are ushered in before Mando closes the hull door almost aggressively.

You busy yourself with situating the kid as Mando watches the door close, silent. The green eared menace is already half asleep, so you don’t bother taking him out of his pod, only wrapping a blanket around him. 

You go to turn around to plot the coordinates to your next destination, knowing that Mando is preoccupied in the depths of his helmet, but when you turn, you nearly bump into the said man.

His hands fly to your cheeks in a millisecond, tilting your face left and right as if you had just been in a fight. You let him turn you around to fully assess you, confused at display of affection. As soon as you come back to face him, your eyes dart around his visor like you would be able to read him.

“Are you alright?” Mando’s voice cuts through the silence of the hull. “I- I’m okay, yeah.” You mumble, going to tilt down your face.

A gloved hand catches your chin and tilts it back towards him. “That’s not very convincing.”

“Mando, im fine-“

“Din.”

Your breath catches. “Um, yeah. Din, I’m fine. Just a little shaken, I’ll be okay. I think.” You lift up a hand that’s shivering as if it’s cold.

“You’re okay,” He states, and upon hearing two words that you’d never thought you’d hear from Din’s mouth, you relax slightly into his infinitely stable grip. “He’s not here.”

You nod, believing him. You go to pull away, feeling better now, only for the shock of the whole experience to hit you like a truck. Your chin wobbles as tears threaten to spill over the ducts of your lids. 

Din’s helmet lifts up sharply, and if you weren’t so focused on crying in front of the strongest man you knew, you would have registered it as fear. Your eyes flick downwards as a tear slipped out, not wanting to look at him. His hand shifts to your jaw as he wipes the tear away with a care you’d only seen him extend to the kid, gloves kissing the skin of your cheek. 

“I’m sorry,“ you burst out of Din’s grip in embarrassment, hiding your face. “This is stupid, I shouldn’t be crying-“

“No,” Din snarls, the ferocity of the word causing your head to shoot up. “No, don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault, it’s that idiot’s fault for touching you,” his hands grab at your forearms like a little kid and drags you towards him again, capturing you in a tight hug. “I swear I would’ve- I wanted to-“ he takes a deep breath. “You’re okay.”

You two stand like that for a while, Din whispering reassurances that you weren’t sure were for you anymore. You cry a storm and a half into the crook of his neck, between the lip of his helmet and the edge of his undershirt, finally calming down enough to pull away some minutes later.

But, when you move to pull back, Din’s arms don’t budge. You relent your efforts almost immediately, knowing deep down in your gut that both you and him need this connection now. You weren’t complaining, anyway– this is something you’d wished would happen for so long. Maybe not under these circumstances, but you would take whatever you could get.

“Din,” you mumble into his shoulder. “I’m okay. I’m here.” 

“Please don’t leave.” He barely says those three words, but you hear them loud and clear.

You tighten your grip on him. “I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me now.” 

He let out a huff of air, and you couldn’t tell whether it was a huff or a laugh. “You were never a nuisance.”

You flush. “Ah, well that’s good news.” 

Din let his helmet drop to your shoulder, the cold beskar a contrast to your burning skin. “You’re amazing. I don’t deserve you, sweet girl.”

Sweet girl. Now that was a nickname you could get used to. In fact, you already loved it.

[djarinterstellar]

Safe Place

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Summary: What starts as a night off alone escalates into some trouble in town. Luckily, when you’re employed by one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy, backup is never too far away.

Tags/Warnings: category is- MUTUAL PINING[!!] they just don’t know it. mostly comfort/fluff. some violence in the beginning + 1 minor injury. mentions of alcohol and spice (cannabis) use. Reader is fadeddd most of the plot lmao. Protective/Soft Din 🥰 mentions of Force-sensitive Reader. also no Grogu today, it’s past his bedtime :(

Word Count: 8.6k

a/n: not me posting this on the cusp of season 3 finally premiering 💀 also this was supposed to be shorter but honestly, this thing got so out of hand so fast, idek why it drags on for as long as it does. but i was inspired by this very stoned prompt i thought of months ago with my favorite tin can babygirl and decided to finally finish it so. here we go. ✨

ps: i’m still trying out the 3rd person pov thing so lemme know if you hate it or not. also to settle any confusion amid the new szn, this takes place between s1 and 2 :)

Translation: Sen’ika = little bird

*

*

It’s supposed to be an easy night.

Mando is on a hunt and she’s been left in charge in his absence. Normally she would’ve argued coming along and you know, making herself useful as she’d originally agreed upon. But the Crest could only land so close and the additional foot travel was too long and treacherous for the Child to follow along. Plus Red trusted her enough to leave her alone with his foundling without making off with his ship and she had no other choice but to agree.

A few days had passed now since he’d departed. He estimated he’d return in about a week, so she was in no rush in waiting for him. Mando had settled them on the outskirts of town, far enough where they could lay low in peace but still close enough for her to make any emergency supply runs in town. She was left with everything she needed to care for the kid. And with specific instructions not to leave the Crest unless it was absolutely necessary.

Which is exactly what she decided to categorize this as.

The pair of double doors leading into the local cantina burst open and she stumbles back out into the streets, giggling to herself as she cradles a pair of warm cider bottles to-go in her pouch. She hadn’t planned on lingering at the bar but three drinks and a pair of shots with a group of local girls later, plans were changed. She was even invited out back to share a round of their spice joint, a generous offer she simply couldn’t refuse. She was now blissfully intoxicated and felt lighter and happier than she’d been in weeks.

The kid had finally settled in earlier and if his recent patterns served her correctly, he’d be down for the rest of the night. She was finally alone, a privilege she found extremely rare these days since joining Mando’s crew, which gave her ample time to wander into town. Was it responsible of her to leave the Crest and the kid alone? Most would argue it wasn’t, Red most of all. But he wasn’t here to say no! Plus, she had locked the ship down to keep the kid inside and protected from any potential stragglers. All goes well, she would be in and out before he woke up.

And she was confident about this because she’d already gone out just last night. Sure, she hadn’t been out this long, but again, Mando wasn’t expected anytime soon.

She liked exploring towns. It gave her a reason to not only scope out her environment, but to familiarize herself with the locals and figure out which spots in town were traveler-friendly. It was easy to wander when she was on her own, but now that she was a full-time employee, it had become somewhat of a rare treat.

It was week’s end for these particular folks, which meant most of them were out in droves tonight. She could still hear the fits of laughter and drunken serenades belting out of the cantina behind her as she walked away. The air was far cooler at night and the refreshing taste of it in her lungs gave her cloudy head the clearance it needed.

She was delightfully drunk and probably just as high, but she was conscious enough to know she needed to get back. Leaving the kid alone for a couple of hours was fine, but stretching it out any longer than that was far too much of a risk. Live music was playing somewhere from around the corner, locals dashing around her as they hopped from one cantina to another.

The energy buzzed around her like an electric current, yet she walked with a familiar ease. She felt oddly safe within the center of town. But as she drifted further into the outskirts, the street lamps dulled and the crowds thinned out. A pair of fraternal moons became her guiding light as she willed herself to remember the path back to the Crest.

And for a while, it was fine. Despite the silence, she couldn’t help but feel a bit more on edge out here alone than when she was surrounded by a bunch of drunk miners. She ignored it though, trying to tell herself it was probably the spice making her antsy. But the farther she walked, the longer her paranoia festered and itched and scratched until she realized it wasn’t the libations talking to her.

It was the Force.

She realized too late she was being followed until just before she was confronted. A Balosar male slinks out from an alleyway behind her, long and slim with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his oversized coat. She wills herself to keep her eyes straight ahead but she could hear him glide over to her side to match her stride.

“Where ya goin’ sugar? The party’s that way!” he drawled, sending an immediate chill up her spine. Shit.

“I know where I’m going,” She doesn’t look at him as she attempts to brush past him. “Have a good night.”

He reacts by slipping around her once more, this time blocking her path directly ahead. “Whoa whoa, take it easy!” His accent is thick and laced in what she can only describe as mock-innocence. “Relaax, nobody’s gettin’ hurt here!”

Her facial expressions remain unmoved, glancing up at him boredly. In reality though, her heart was hammering against her ribcage. The last thing she needed, especially right now, was unwanted attention from anybody, let alone from this total stranger. She moves to step forward but he cuts in her way, a sly grin stretching across his face.

“It’s okay baby,” Her stomach internally caved in at the pet name. “just tryna find where the cool people hang out.”

“Wouldn’t know where to point you to.” she replies flatly, straightening her back. “Excuse me.”

She attempts to move around him again, but his arm comes up to lay on the wall next to her and he leans forward to cave her in. “Where’re you from then? I’ve never seen anyone this pretty so far out here.” His free hand inches towards her face but she’s quick to turn her cheek, her jaw clenching behind her lips.

“And you never will.” she snaps back, already inching backwards.

This only prompts him to step closer, a frown crossing his slimy face. “Ey, you don’t have to be a bitch.” His tone switches almost predictably and her hand slips behind her cloak to reach for her holster.

“Back off.” she snarls him a warning with the coldest glare she can make.

He tries reclosing the gap between them again. “C’monn honey- ”

“NO.” Her fight-or-flight instinct kicks in and she fully pushes her weight on him to shove him down. Her stand off is cut short though when he finds his balance and pushes back. She’s thrown back against the wall and before she can even process it, a pocket knife is jabbed against the skin of her neck.

Shadows move over his shoulder in her peripheral vision and when she follows them, 3 more Balosars creep out of the dark, hovering behind the first one in a sort of half circle around her.

It’s at this moment that she realizes 2 distinct things. Firstly, she doesn’t recognize them. In her 4 or so days since they touched down, she’d observed the villagers in her down time and gathered a very broad consensus of who was who— and in that time, she hadn't seen any Balosars in this town, which told her they were also just passing by. Secondly, she thinks as she watches the other 3 close in, she’s tangled herself in a very complicated web here. It was 4 against 1, with a notable size difference amongst all of them. She couldn’t see straight, was hilariously underprepared for a fight given the company she was currently keeping, she was fucked up and only growing more inebriated as her vices soaked into her bloodstream, and she was alone. No baby, no bar friends, no civilian witnesses.

No Mando.

Fuck.

A strangled little noise escapes her throat when the knife is pinched further into her skin and she curses herself at how whimpered it comes out.

“Fine, since you wanna do this the hard way..” the first Bathosar sneers almost mockingly, his frame towering over her own.

She’s curling into the overcast of her cloak when her fingers finally find the handle of her blaster, skin digging tightly into the cool of the metal. She looks into his eyes and sucks in a deep breath before the tension snaps.

Fuck it.

In an instant, a shot zaps out, aimed directly at his foot. He cries out when it makes contact, and she smashes her blaster across his temple when he folds over in distracted pain, his knife clattering to the ground. Despite her inebriation, she can sense the others jumping into action and she points her gun at the closest one, shooting him right in his chest before he can get any closer. She doesn’t have time to watch his body crumple to the floor as she turns to shoot at the other two, a rapid succession of plasma bolts whizzing out almost desperately. Her second target barely misses her line of fire and as she follows his trail, she fails to block the third Balosar from tackling her into the wall. She cries out as he harshly elbows her wrist to disarm her, the blaster forced out of her hand.

“Grab her!” She hears her attacker hiss from above her before she’s suddenly snatched from behind. Her arms are pinned to her sides as she’s grabbed and lifted several inches off the ground.

Her heart is pounding, blood pumping into her ears as she yells out. Her feet start kicking furiously in an instant, every functional instinct left in her telling her to fight back. “Get off me!” she shrieks, flailing until her boot finally connects with a knee. She hears him yelp behind her, his grip slipping. She jabs her elbow fully into his nose, sending them both tumbling.

Two separate voices are shouting incoherently above her in a blend of confusion and exasperation. She can see her blaster just feet away and she starts crawling, scrambling in a desperate effort to reach it, until she’s yanked backwards by her ankle.

“Pin her down.” she hears one of them growl maliciously from above.

Her stomach turns as she’s dragged back into her assailant’s grip, trails of her fingernails digging into the dirt floor. She feels her brain short-circulating in its panic so she resorts to one last defense tactic.

She starts screaming.

And it’s a shriek that’s piercing and raw and louder than she was planning it to be. But she screams anyway in hopes that anyone within the block can at least hear her, even if it’s another drunken villager on their way home.

“Shut her up!” A second voice hisses hastily, hands scrambling to smother her.

“NO- ” She bites down on the first hand that touches her face and only squeals louder, her pitch jumping another octave in her hysteria. She starts kicking again, nails scrambling in the dirt for a spare rock, a glass shard, anything physical to grab in her defense. When her palms only fill with clumps of dirt and sand, she clenches her fists around them anyway.

What started as a dreamy, whimsical high has quickly soured into a debilitating panic trip. Rather than floating in euphoric bliss, she feels tranquilized, her focus and motor skills severely hindered and overpowered by these 3 much larger adversaries. Her stomach is turning over under her ribs, waves of nausea churning with her rising panic. Her heart is pounding too fast she feels, and her lungs are tightly clenched despite how fast she’s gasping for air.

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until she’s flipped on her back, the welling tears spilling down her temples. Before she can scream again, a balled up handkerchief is forced into her mouth. Two of them meanwhile, are putting their full weight down on her to pin her limbs to the ground. The first one is limping over to them, his knife recovered in his hand while patches of fresh blood trail behind his injured foot. She audibly whimpers now, wriggling in their grasp like a drowning fish.

“You know.. I was gonna let you go after all this,” he starts, turning his blade over in his hand as if to inspect it. “But that was before I believed the rumors.” He pauses here, and the dread is only momentarily overwhelmed by her instinctive curiosity. “I mean- we all knew the bounty’s primary target was a Mandalorian with a green pet- ” Her stomach drops. “ -but there was no mention anywhere about his pretty little accomplice.”

She rustles again as he looms over her. “And I gotta tell ya, I didn’t think it was true at all. I mean, a Mandalorian with a business partner? And a girl at that!?” He almost laughs before he pivots. “But then we sees’ you in town, carryin’ this little guy around, and we think, maybe there’s some truth in all this, ya know?” Her stomach sinks even lower at the realization that they not only spotted her with the kid, but that they’d been watching her this whole time too.

Double fuck.

Suddenly, he’s kneeling in front of her, his injured foot tucked behind his knee, and she’s roughly sat up to face him by the snatch of her hair. “So here’s what’s gonna happen,” She grunts helplessly when his blade is pressed deeper against her neck as the three men crowd around her. “you’re gonna point me in the direction of the gremlin, you’re gonna watch us shoot his kidnapper, and then, and only then, will I finally kill you myself.”

Her brows crease in pain as she tries to pull away from his blade, but the hand twisted in the back of her hair only pushes her into it. The handkerchief is yanked out for her to answer and his head tilts to catch her eyes. “So?” he snaps. “What’s it gonna be? Now or later?”

Her eyes harden, nostrils flaring. Honestly, right now, she just wants to tell him to fuck off. It’s not like this was her first time being mugged and/or threatened, and unfortunately not while inebriated either. But this one felt pretty damn close to getting got. Her brain is already scrambling between scattered half-assed theories on how to get her out of this.

Fw-ip !

A whizzing sound passes under her and it’s so subtle, she almost doesn’t notice it. Then there’s a pause of silence that’s almost too heavy to be coming from nothing before she notices that the first guy’s eyes have blown wide open. They make eye contact and she squints, almost confused.

Suddenly, he’s thrown back and he starts screaming before she realizes he’s being yanked into the shadows by his wounded foot. She can hear the mechanical whizzing again as he’s dragged, even over his friends’ shouting, and it takes another split second for her to realize it’s a whipcord. And just like that, the Force alerts her that she’s not alone again. But instead of dread, something else flutters in her gut.

The Balosar’s screams are cut short by a single blaster shot, and she inhales a gasp of air before a chill crawls up her spine.

Two heavy, familiar boot steps clunk in front of them as its owner steps into the dim lighting.

She exhales and pure euphoria blooms in her chest.

He’s towering over them, broad shoulders stiff and gloved hands clenched into iron fists, his armor gleaming like a beacon even in the cover of night.

She can’t stop the smile that’s spreading across her face. “Mando..-”

“Kill him!” One of the Balosars yanks her back into his chest as his friend scrambles to his feet, blaster already in hand. She squeaks and the sound seems to snap Mando into full action. She’s yanked to her feet as his arm wrangles itself around her neck.

From here though, she can see her Mandalorian in his full glory. She watches him stalking towards his prey, blaster bolts bouncing off his beskar like raindrops as the other guy empties his clip into him. And of course, when that doesn’t work, he headbutts him to stun him before striking. Despite the weight of his armor, Mando moves like a viper and is just as deadly.

She feels herself being dragged away and she grunts in protest, trying to wriggle out of his grasp. It’s then she remembers one hand is still clenched. Without a second thought, she swings backwards, smacking the guy right in the face as she temporarily blinds him with a fistful of dirt.

“Agh- !” He shouts and she slips out his grip. She starts towards Mando, but then she’s grabbed by her hair and is yanked backwards with a cry. “Fuckin’ bitch- !” She hears him snarl before the back of his hand strikes her directly across her cheek.

She drops against the brick wall behind her, his body towering her, but from the corner of her eye, she spots Mando. The second guy is now motionless on the floor and his helmet is fully trained on the last one. And based on the swell of his chest and how hard he’s breathing now, she doesn’t need to gauge anything else; he just saw what he did and he’s furious.

He crosses the space between them and drags him backwards and away from her. The Balosar starts fighting back but he's quickly overpowered as he’s disarmed with an unnatural twist of his wrist. Mando spins him around and lands a punch directly into his face once, twice, thrice and then a final fourth blow before the guy falls to his knees. And it’s there that he goes for the kill, grabbing his head with both gloved hands and snapping his neck with an enraged grunt and a sickening crunch.

She watches the final body crumple to the floor with blown out eyes and her jaw fully dropped. She’s physically shaking, she realizes, and can barely breathe, let alone stand on her own. But when Mando finally turns to her, his chest rising and falling, she clings to the wall behind her to gather herself back up.

“What the hell happened??” Mando’s tone is harsh and agitated, even under his modulated panting. “You weren’t on the ship when I-”

He’s cut off when she runs straight into his arms. She all but collapses into his chest, arms coiled around his neck and her face smothered into his cowl. Before he can even process what’s happening, she pulls back to look up at him. “You’re earlyy!” She’s practically beaming up at him, one of her hands tracing the cheekbone of his helmet.

He’s speechless. First, a hug. And now she’s.. glad to see him? Not to mention how she’s smiling up at him with those big, adoring puppy-dog eyes. She’s never been this nice to him before, not even around the Child. “I- ” he hesitates before clearing his throat. “ -Yes. The target uh, took less time than I thought.”

This only makes her smile wider before she buries herself in him again. This time, her arms slip around his back, her cheek leaning into his chest plate. She could care less about how the edges of his armor were pinching into her skin, or how his fully loaded bandolier was pressed very uncomfortably into her collarbone. All that mattered to her right now, was this. “I’m so happy you’re here.” she all but whimpers, closing her eyes to savor the coolness of his beskar and the familiar scent of metal and gun smoke.

Now Mando was really stunned. But he can also feel the physical tremble in her muscles and the speed of her pulse, so he relents with a long sigh before a single arm drapes around her back. “Are you okay?” he asks, his tone much softer this time.

She nods into his chest before pulling away again. “Y-Yeah I just- ” she takes a deep breath and lets out a shaky exhale. “ -that was.. too close..”

“What happened?” He decides to ask again. “Are you hurt?” His hands quickly pat her down as if checking her for any other injuries before one of them comes up to gently cup her chin. He carefully tilts her face to get a better view of her red cheek and it doesn’t go unnoticed when she refuses to make eye contact. His helmet tilts ever so slightly. “Sen’ika..”

Her lips press together and her brows furrow as she flinches. “Well..”

“Did they kidnap you?” He asks, his other hand gesturing towards the 3 bodies behind him.

This makes her head snap back up. “No! No, they had no idea where I was staying. They were just trying to follow me back t..” she trails off the moment her brain catches up to her lips, and now that she’s face-to-face with him, she can practically feel Mando’s visor burning a hole into her forehead.

The pause between them stretches out uncomfortably before he finally speaks. “Where did you go?” His voice makes her insides squirm, like a teenager getting caught out after curfew.

“Uh..” She starts and suddenly she’s become hyper-aware of how hot her face is. She can’t remember the last time he was this close to her, and the realization of this somehow makes her self-conscious. She’s also still remarkably faded, too faded in fact to fake any semblance of sobriety. And if he’s already here, there’s really no point in lying to him, he’s way too smart for that. “..the bar.” she finally finishes meekly.

His shoulders slump as he exhales. “You got drunk?” he asks incredulously.

Her face brightens in embarrassment. “Okay, look- ” she starts and she can practically hear him groan under his helmet as he looks up to the sky. “-to be fair, I only went after the kid passed out, cause I knew he wouldn’t wake up.”

When she looks up, his helmet only tilts to the side, a silent move that only prompts her to keep going. “Ok, so there’s this pattern I’ve noticed, so when you give him a full meal and a glass of warm milk, and then you just let him play with his toys and get him to make them float around the room, after a certain time, he’ll get super tired and, like, fully sleep through the night. And I know that sounds like the most basic excuse in the book but I swear I tested this three nights in a row and it worked every time, okay so I wasn’t being totally stupid..”

She doesn’t realize how long she’s been rambling until she glances up again. He’s now leaned in closer to her, and for a moment she thinks he’s examining her cheek again. What she doesn’t realize is how carefully he’s looking into her eyes. He can tell she’s been drinking by now, and despite the trauma of the attempted assault on her just now, her eyes are still way too bloodshot to just be the liquor. Not to mention the hint of another smell on her..

She inhales sharply through her nose when she feels his gloved hands slip over her own. She gazes into his visor, as if straining to look for a pair of eyes behind it and leans in ever so slightly. She’s never been as curious to see what his expression looks like as she is right now. Her face softens as she stares up at him. “Mando..?” Her voice is just above a whisper and oh-so delicate.

She can feel his thumbs gently press into the pulse points of her wrists as he stares at her, and the surprising warmth of his touch makes butterflies flutter in her ribs. And just before she can open her mouth to call out to him again, he leans directly into her eye level.

“Are you high?” He’s audibly confused.

Her eyes turn into saucers in silent panic and it’s here that he can see her pupils are blown wide open.

“…Uhhhh…”

He sighs heavily as his head drops in defeat. It’s the only answer he needs.

“Okay,” he relents as he lets go of her. “Get your stuff. Let’s go home.”

He immediately stiffens once the words slip out. Oh, fuck fuck fuck.

No Din, no! This was temporary, remember?? She’d only made that abundantly clear the day she stepped foot on the Crest with a single bag and 2 datapads. It was always a mutual agreement though: she was to join him on the Crest to work full-time on tracking down a Jedi, with a deadline of at least a couple of months before he was to drop her off at a new planet of residency of her choosing. After all, she’d only just begun resettling her life and it was a path she intended to follow through on her own. Din understood this partnership was fleeting and it was unfair of him to call this ‘home’, yet for some reason, he insisted on slipping up in little moments like this again and again.

Though based on the glazed, clueless look in her eyes, she didn’t notice at all. “Okay.” she simply says, turning around to scan the alley for her belongings. As she skirts off in one direction, Din sees her blaster laying just a couple of feet away. He picks it up for her when a loud clanging catches his attention.

“Hey!” She calls out, straining to pull her bag out from under one of the bodies. Once she rolls him off with a kick of her foot, she holds up her bag and pulls out one of the sources of the noise. “Look, the cider survived!”

His helmet tilts almost disapprovingly, but he does nothing else as he holds her blaster out to her. “C’mon.” he all but huffs impatiently.

“Okay okay, sorryy- ” she slurs, stumbling over the same body as she returns and accepts her blaster. “One of these are yours ya know!” Mando is already walking away as she’s throwing her up bag over her shoulder, and she has to scramble to keep up with him, a move that makes her trip on her own two feet.

His helmet tilts over his shoulder at her. “Can you walk?” She’s not sure if it’s meant to sound demeaning or not, but it makes her puff her chest as she pouts at him.

“Of course I can walk!” she shoots back. “You’re just going too fast.” He grunts in response, helmet facing forward again and continues his pace. She’s not sure if it’s the spice but his strides feel more rushed than usual. His shoulders are also still fully straight, she notices and something tugs in her chest as she tries getting a sense of what his body language is telling her. She’s only a step or two behind him, and her eyes wander to the floor in front of her, the words spilling out before she can stop herself. “..are you mad at me?”

She almost sounds like a child, remorseful and heavy with guilt and she already hates how it comes out. But what punches harder is his response. Or his lack of it. Because he simply keeps walking at the same pace, fully ignoring her. No grunt, no hum, not even a sigh. And for some reason, this makes her ache. She stumbles over her own feet again and almost instantly she can feel tears threatening to well under the skin of her cheeks. She wants to curse herself for getting emotional, but it has to be liquor making her moods swing so drastically, she tells herself. Not that this thought doesn’t stop her from speaking again.

“I’m fired aren’t I- ”

Before she can blink, she runs face-first into a wall of beskar as he stops abruptly. She can’t help but yelp as she clutches her now-throbbing nose and when she looks back up, he’s turning to face her again. He stares at her until the silence frays at her nerves, and just when she can feel her face burning up to her ears, she hears a soft exhale from his modulator.

“C’mon,” his voice is soft as his right arm slightly pokes out towards her. “I can hear you tripping around from up here.”

Her brows furrow ever so slightly. “Are you makin’ fun of me?” she asks.

“Does it sound like I am?”

Her eyes narrow this time. “Mayybe.” she coos. But she loops her arm into the crook of his elbow and is silently delighted when he tucks her against his side. She finds it much easier to match his walk now and she can’t help the jump in her pulse as she’s pressed closer to him. In fact, she has to bite her lip to stop the silly grin threatening to spread across her cheeks. They walk in comfortable silence for a while before her spinning brain comes up with another enquiry.

“Mando?”

“Hm?” His response is barely registered under his modulator.

“How’d you find me?”

For a moment, Din doesn’t answer. And it’s not for the lack of one either. He’s just not sure where to begin. Does he start when he first re-entered the Crest to find the kid safe and sound but with her nowhere in sight? Or when he went back outside in hopes that she was on the roof stargazing or fiddling with the ship. Or when he started speed-walking through the nearby alleys because now he really couldn’t find her and just before his panic could bubble over, a single sound just yards away made his heart stop before he jump-started into a full sprint for her.

“I heard you scream.” he eventually replies and it almost sounds like his teeth are pressed together under that helmet.

She smiles at that. My hero. She almost wants to swoon until he speaks up again.

“I’ve warned you about being alone Sen’ika,” His tone is still soft, but firmer this time. She flinches and tucks her face down from him, nodding once.

“I know, I- ” her head swirls at the pang of shame but she swallows the urge to say anything other than what was necessary here. “I’m sorry.”

Another pause of silence. She decides to focus on their footsteps instead. There was something about the synchronized crunch of gravel under their boots that just satisfied every single sense in her. And it isn’t until she looks up and gets a full glimpse of the night sky that she realizes the spice is still very much in her system, unnatural neon lights and shapes bouncing across the stars. She stares in drunken awe up at them for a little too long and when she sees the Crest finally back in eyesight, she practically deflates in relief.

“Hey,” Then, Mando gently slides his arm out of their loop, leather ghosting down the length of her arm until he cups his palm over her fisted hand. “What matters to me most is that you’re safe,” he says softly. His visor turns to her, and he slowly opens her hand to slide his own into her palm. His gloved thumb gently squeezes her knuckles in what she can only gather as reassurance. “Okay?” His tone is so warm, it’s almost tender.

It catches her so far off guard, she’s pretty sure she short-circuited and is only still breathing on emergency autopilot. Her cheeks flush up and her eyes are blown wide open in the same sweet doe-like expression he adores so much, that he can’t help but smile behind the safety of his helmet. She blinks and she almost resets, clearing her throat as she looks straight ahead. She’s still blushing as she smiles and nods once. “Okay.” she replies sweetly.

Even his gloves are impenetrable, thick and almost twice as large in size. But she can still feel a warmth radiating from the other side against her skin. Suddenly feeling brave, she shifts, slipping through his gloves and slowly linking their fingers together. Mando stiffens at first, until her nails sink into the shape of his knuckles, and he internally melts. Before he can process his own reaction, he squeezes back, his thumb gently stroking over her own.

She looks up again, grinning from ear to ear. Clouds are dancing in her vision, stars swelling and shrinking in size across the painted skies. She dares herself to glance at him from the corner of her eye. He’s looking straight ahead thankfully, only semi-lit under the glow of the moons, but his beskar has never been more radiant. The same colors in her eyes bounce off the high points of his armor, illuminating him in an almost ethereal glow. She can’t stop her eyes from wandering. He’s perfectly shaped from every angle. He stands tall and proud, and walks with an effortless swagger so few could replicate. His mere presence can shift the focus of an entire room. He’s daunting and striking and is the picture of discipline and strength. Yet he cradles her hand in his like she’s made of glass. She’s never seen anything past the chiseled cut of his helmet, yet he’s never looked more beautiful in her eyes right now. She knows she shouldn’t be looking at him the way she is right now; with stars in her eyes and the softest, most affectionate little smile spreading from cheek to flushed cheek.

“You’re so pretty~” she slurs out in the sweetest tone. From behind his beskar, Din’s heart jumps into his throat.

“You’re drunker than I thought.” He doesn’t skip a beat though, somehow keeping his tone flat and neutral.

“It’s still truee,” she shoots back, leaning against his side with a wide grin. “It’s always been true!”

He glances at her wordlessly and she smiles back at herself through his visor. He’s not sure what to say to that, if anything, he’s too flustered to think of a rebuttal. He’s never been called pretty by anyone, even as a joke. Eventually he clears his throat and looks away and she only grins wider. Did she just leave him speechless? She can’t help but try to read his body language for any hints.

BONK.

Unfortunately she’s so distracted by the dancing Mudhorn on his pauldron that she fully trips on the descending base of the Crest’s ramp. The only thing that stops her from falling on her face is Mando’s sudden grip on her elbow. His visor slowly turns to her again. And she knows he’s frowning this time. He yanks her back to her feet and they finally ascend to the deck. She sighs happily once she stumbles into the safety of the Crest.

As Mando closes and locks up the gangway behind them, a late thought suddenly strikes her. She turns to him with panicked eyes. “The kid!?”

“Shh-!” He quickly hushes her with a gloved pointer over her lips. She stares into her own flushed reflection as her voice echoes into the cockpit above. She’s hyper-aware of just how loud she’s being now that she’s no longer outside. Along with the scent of sunkissed leather directly under her nose. She doesn’t move until his finger slowly pivots to her right and when she follows his direction, she spots his hover pod, sealed up and safe and sound, just as she’d left him.

She sighs softly and her shoulders slump in relief. Mando leans in pointedly. “You’re lucky you were right.” he whispers into her hair. “He didn’t flinch when I got home.”

As goosebumps sprout up the back of her neck, he pulls away and crosses the room to the ladder. “I’m gonna lock us down. We’ll leave first thing tomorrow.” Just before he climbs, he turns back to her. “Bedtime, Sen’ika. Now.” It's a gentle, but final warning.

She nods wordlessly and he leaves her in the middle of the room, dizzy and flustered. Her ears are also ringing now that she’s swallowed in silence. Eventually, she slowly pads into her designated corner. Her hammock is tucked away in the pocket of an empty storage closet, a thin makeshift curtain the only barrier between her ‘room’ and the deck. The walls hum around her and she realizes the heat has been turned back on, thankfully. She’s too drunk to fully wash up but she’s got enough energy to rip off her tight, itchy outdoor clothes and boots. She grabs the closest pajama-adjacent shirt and lounge pants she can find and wriggles them on.

She opens her hammock and finally allows herself to lay down, eyes turned to the dim ceiling.

How would it have felt if she’d laid her head on his shoulder?

No.

Would he have pushed her away? Or allowed her to stay?

Her brain’s focus shifts to the vision of his arms. His hands. His sweet, soothing voice.

I mean, he let her hold his hand, didn’t he? And hug him. Surely she could’ve gotten away with a little shoulder lean.

Gods, no.

Is he soft under all that armor? Does he run hot or does the beskar keep him cool? Is there a human face behind that m-

No! Stop it!

She physically shakes her head to break her train of thought. This was dangerous terrain. Just because you’re drunk doesn't mean you should be humoring these silly curiosities of yours! Her eyes squeeze shut and as she tries to take a deep breath, she realizes her heart is racing.

This is ridiculous.

Okay, so what if she has a crush on her employer?? It's not exactly a new phenomenon, and it certainly wasn’t the first boss she’d ever fallen for either. What was insane was what she liked about him. Because for the very first time, she couldn’t put a face to it. Instead, it was in his voice. His strength. His unwavering faith in his Creed, in the Way. He was loyal, honorable and resourceful. Stubborn as a Bantha, but quick to strike like lightning. He was also kind and selfless. He had the patience of a saint for the Child and innocent locals and despite his daunting appearance, he never hesitated to help out others, even if it meant pushing back on their schedule. There were actually various reasons why she liked him, and she couldn’t even put a name to a single one of them.

Not that any of it mattered. Because not a word of this would be uttered to anyone, let alone to him. Not to mention that this was a temporary gig, it’s not like she’d be around much longer anyway. The last thing she needed was to complicate this job for herself with her unprofessional schoolgirl behavior.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she shifts her focus to the only other thing clouding her judgment. Her head is still spinning but the heaviness behind her eyes makes it easy to keep them closed. She also focuses on slowing her breath, allowing her limbs to fully sink into the cradle of her hammock. A few minutes melt away and just as she finally feels herself beginning to drift..

“Pin her down.”

She physically jolts awake as the image of her ex-attackers kneeling over her flashes behind her eyelids. Her heart jumps to her throat as that same awful wave of nausea courses through her. Okay so clearly she wasn’t over what happened just yet. Her stomach turns again though this time for far more terrifying reasons.

She leaps to her feet before she can stop herself. She’s not sure what she wants just yet, but she knows whose presence she needs. She whips her curtain aside and almost jumps out of her skin when she sees Mando already standing at her doorway. “G-Geez- !”

He doesn’t flinch. He’s also holding a metal cup that he offers to her when she looks at it. “Drink this before you fall asleep,” he simply says.

“What is it?” she accepts it anyway, peering inside before taking a test sip.

“Just water,” Mando pauses and inwardly smiles when she gags at the aftertaste. “and powdered electrolytes to cut your hangover time in half. You'll thank yourself in the morning for it.”

“Mm, awesome!” she flashes him a pained grin and he almost chuckles. She’s so adorable like this, it’s almost painful.

He lingers for just a moment longer before he nods once. “Sweet dreams.” He starts walking away until a single hand on his arm makes him stop in his tracks. His helmet shoots towards her expectantly and when her eyes meet his visor, her voice suddenly clamps in her throat. She catches the almost-panicked expression in her reflection’s eyes and looks away. She almost starts apologizing, but he turns towards her instead, closing the distance between them. “What’s wrong?”

“I- ” Her face feels warm again despite her growing anxiety and she feels betrayed by the flush burning across her cheeks. She huffs and looks down at her feet. “Never mind, it’s n- ”

“Sen’ika,” He doesn’t even have to say anything else. His helmet ducks to try and catch her eye. “Tell me.” His voice is so gentle and reassuring that she has no choice but to succumb.

Fuck it, right?

“C… can I stay with you tonight?” Her voice is so soft, it’s almost a whisper. Her hand gently squeezes his sleeve, teeth catching on her bottom lip. “I don’t.. wanna be alone tonight..” To be fair, it wasn’t a lie.

It’s so quiet, you could hear a pin drop from the cockpit. In fact, she can’t even hear him breathing. Fuck. Did she fuck it up? Is he weirded out? Is she fired? Again?? Fuck! Take it back!

She has no idea just how startled Din really is though. She can’t hear his heart doing somersaults in his chest or how almost-terrified he looks behind the visor. But then she looks up at him with those frantic angel eyes for just a moment, he knows that despite whatever’s asked of him, how could he ever deny his little bird?

She opens her mouth and he perks up. ”Okay,” he says. It’s just as soft as she asked and almost nervous. He nods to follow up and clears his throat. “Of course.”

Her eyes round and she blinks back at him, almost dumbfounded. Holy shit, it worked? “Yeah?”

He nods again. “Yeah,” he replies lightly before his helmet jerks in the direction of his bunk. “C’mon.”

He crosses the room to his bunk to open the hatch. The kid’s pod is hovering peacefully right by the door where either of them can reach him if they have to. She follows him wordlessly where he steps aside for her. “Pick your spot, I’ll be right back.” he tells her.

Ironically, she was no stranger to his bed. He’d offered his room to her plenty of times before she carved out a spare corner for herself to give him his privacy back. She never imagined she’d actually be sharing it with him for once. She downed the last of her water and put the cup aside before she stepped into the bunk. She decided to slide into the corner facing the wall to give him as much space as possible.

Mando’s only gone for a few minutes, but in her panicked, overthinking state, it feels like ages. She finds comfort in his sheets. After getting so used to this space then moving out for a stretch of time, they felt familiar and almost welcoming to come back to. She acknowledged this was mostly due to their scent, the warm, woodsy musk that she recognized as what was likely the scent of his skin. She nuzzles into his blankets, inhales and sighs into them.

Then his boot steps echo back into earshot. She rolls onto her back and props up on her elbows, watching his shadowed figure fiddling outside. After a particularly heavy sigh, he clicks a light off and steps inside. For a second, he almost looks like a shadow sliding along the walls. It’s then she realizes he’s not wearing his beskar. He's stripped down to his full flight suit, boots, gloves and of course, his trademark helmet. There’s still not a shred of skin in sight but this still gives her a full view of his own figure. She’s dumbstruck at just how broad he truly is even without his armor. Then, it dawns on her that he took off his beskar to make room for her and something flutters under her ribs.

He looks at her and she scoots into the wall. His gloves clench and unclench in a subtle twitch as he slides into the space next to her. It’s a tight squeeze, laying shoulder to shoulder, but it’s a fit that would’ve probably been unbearable with the few inches of additional armor on. She crosses her arms, making herself smaller and fitting around the bigger gaps between them.

They both sigh and for a moment, it’s quiet. Her heart’s weirdly racing and she’s not sure what to say. Or if anything should be said at all. He shifts next to her, and her first thought is that he’s warm, even under his dense flight suit. He sighs again, and it sounds spent. She wonders if his eyes are closed behind that helmet.

Her head cranes towards him. “Long day?”

A short huff cracks through his modulator. “Something like that.” He’s smiling behind that response.

She grins back and looks up at the dark ceiling again. Colors are still swirling in her eyes if she squints long enough, but they're fading, she notes. There’s another short pause before this time, he breaks. “If.. this is too uncomf- ”

“It’s not.” she cuts in sweetly, still smiling to herself. Despite the angle, he’s warm and sturdy and she’d never felt more secure sandwiched between a man and his metal walls. She gently nudges his side. “Thanks again for saving my ass.”

He huffs again and nudges back. “Any time.” he replies.

She giggles and pauses, words pricking at the tip of her tongue. She’s feeling brave again and in her growing drowsiness, she decides to throw caution to the wind one last time. “Mando?”

“Mm?”

She inhales and shifts, her chin gently pressing into his shoulder. “Can I be honest about somethin’?”

His helmet shifts to her expectantly before pointing his chin at her. A silent approval to keep going. “I’ve been surrounded by armies my whole life. For as long as I can remember. Rebels, mercenaries, outcasts. You name it, I’ve met ‘em,” She peers up at his visor, ensuring she’s making eye contact. “And I’ve never felt safer with any of ‘em than I have with you.”

He doesn’t so much as twitch, but she swears she hears his breath seize under the helmet. Once again, his chest blooms and swells and something warm settles in his stomach. He smiles inwardly and before he can stop himself, a gloved hand comes up between them, leather knuckles stroking along the shape of her cheek.

She leans into it for just a moment and then she breaks through, ducking under his arm to curl herself up into his side. She rolls onto her own side, an arm draped across his chest and her head resting below his collarbone. Surprisingly, he not only allows her position shift, but he wraps his arm around her and even pulls her into him. “I made a promise to you,” he says. His hand settles between her shoulder blades, his thumb tracing a single circle into her back. “As long as you’re with me, you’ll be safe from harm. I intend to keep that promise as long as it takes.”

With her ear pressed into his shirt, she realizes that his pulse is racing against her. He also smells nice, like a combination of gunsmoke, the outdoors and the linen of his sheets. It’s woodsy and crisp, but it’s warm and homey and so intoxicatingly comforting.

She wants to say it.

She could get away with saying it if she played it right. But she's too drowsy and delirious and exhausted to keep thinking. He’s draping his blankets over them, tucking her into the ultimate heat source and she wants to soak in it. There’s a cool press against her hair and she realizes that his helmet is leaning into her. “Is this okay?” he whispers to her.

She nuzzles into his shirt and sighs contentedly. Sleep is pulling her into its depths faster than she anticipated but she has enough energy to sweetly mumble, “No. It’s better than okay.”

He exhales through his nose from above her and his hand gently rubs her back. “Get some sleep, mesh’la,” he purrs. “I’m here.”

She doesn’t know what that one means. She makes a mental note to ask tomorrow. Right now, she picks her head up to press a single kiss into his collarbone before plopping back down. “G’night Mando..”

His heart rate picks up again. He pulls her up closer so her head is nestled into the crook of his neck. This allows her to wrap both arms around him. His helmet tilts down and she swears she feels his eyes on her. “Good night.”

She closes her eyes and smiles, allowing herself to sink into his warmth and scent for the first and probably only time. Her words were never truer than in this moment; never had she felt safer than in this tiny bunk, wrapped in her Mandalorian���s blankets. She falls asleep shortly afterwards, her breaths evening out and her heartbeat slowing into a tranquil pace. This time, her mind takes her to more pleasant dreamscapes.

She can’t detect Mando at all, listening to her pulse as she sleeps. She doesn’t feel how long it takes before his gloves slip off in the dim lights and two arms fully wrap around her. She can’t sense his warm palms holding her against him, one across her back, the other coming up to smooth and brush her hair. And she’s long gone by the time he makes the conscious choice to give his helmet a break, telling himself he needs the air and it’ll be back on long before she wakes up tomorrow.

Somewhere in her subconscious, thoughts flash across her eyes; images of the Child, his laugh, his bright brown eyes, and his infectious joy. Repeated images of Mando, his visor, his cape, his arms. His sheets. His voice. His leathered touch. Their hands linked under a coat of stars.

She swears she feels a pair of ghostly lips brush against her forehead, if only for a moment, but she never quite figures out where they came from. Not that it matters. Because for now, this is enough. Even if it is only temporary.

* * *

a/n: stream season 3 only on disney + <3

[rinixo]

sulfur and granite

Din Djarin/Reader | 2.7k | Rated E | afab reader, no y/n, Jealous Din Djarin, smut, piv sex, semi-intense consensual sex, aftercare.

On a short detour to Tattooine, you are introduced to the Marshal. Mando is definitely not jealous.

–

Non-linear oneshots featuring you, a university scholar from Naboo who is helping The Mandalorian seek out the Jedi.

a/n: I imagine Mando would not know how to comfortably express feelings of jealousy/possessiveness right away, but ultimately would be respectful towards his partner's desires.

read on ao3

You weren’t sure what planet you’d choose if you had to pick your favorite, but you were fairly certain that Tattooine wouldn’t even make your top ten. You had only been there a few times, and each time you had left with an uncomfortable amount of sand in an uncomfortable amount of places. The only redeeming quality in your eyes were the brilliant binary sunsets the arid rock offered, but even then there were hundreds of other places in the galaxy where you could see those.

When Mando charted course for Tattooine, you bit your tongue. He said he needed to talk to an ‘old friend’ in some tiny, middle-of-nowhere town, and seeing as you were along for the ride, you steeled yourself for another day of brushing sand out of all of your clothing.

Mando had not given you much information, which you didn’t particularly mind. This was mainly a detour on your journey through the galaxy – some kind of favor he needed to repay or something, you surmised. His ‘old friend’ was only described as ‘The Marshal’, and you wondered what kind of law enforcement a syndicated crime planet like Tattooine could even harbor.

Mando landed the Crest on the outskirts of the city one late afternoon. You, Grogu, and your armored patron walked the short distance into the town to where a man dressed in red was waiting for you.

“Good to see you,” the man called out, moving forward to grasp Mando’s arm in greeting. You hung back slightly, feeling a little out of your element when the man happened to glance past the bounty hunter and catch your gaze.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” The Marshal sauntered forward, an easy grin matching his easy gait. He was quite handsome, you decided. Nice peppery-gray hair, eyes lined with laughter. He reached out for your hand, which you gave with a quiet giggle as he brought it to his lips.

“Don’t tell me she’s one of your bounties, Mando.” The Marshal directed at the Mandalorian as he kissed the back of your hand flirtatiously. “Cause I might be tempted to play the hero and rescue her from your clutches-“

“She’s helping me on my journey,” Mando interrupted flatly. There was a wink of humor in the Marshal’s gaze as he released your hand, only to wrap one arm around your shoulder.

“Well, then, welcome,” he exclaimed. “Any friend of Mando’s is a friend of mine, er…?”

You shared your name, and the man began to walk you toward what you assumed was the local cantina. It was past midday, and it looked like the building was the gathering place for most of the locals as they ended the day. Several people greeted the Marshal as he pointed out different landmarks to you, indicating that he was just as popular among his people as you would have assumed based on his appearance and looks alone.

Mando trailed along just slightly behind the two of you, Grogu tucked in his sack at his side.

“Can I buy you a drink?” The Marshal asked, motioning to the bartender. Two glasses of blue liquor were poured, and the charming man held one out to you.

“Sure,” you smiled. It had been a while since you had let yourself indulge. Even on the rare occasions you and Mando stopped someplace with alcohol, it was mainly for information or to pick up supplies to take on the go. Not to mention the fact that Mando never took off his helmet.

The Marshal – who you later found out was named Cobb Vanth – clinked his glass against yours and the two of you took healthy swigs of the slightly sour drink. Wincing, you matched the handsome man’s grin as he leaned casually against the bar.

“So tell me,” he drawled, swirling his drink In his glass. “What’s a girl like you doing hanging around a Mandalorian bounty hunter?”

You vaguely registered Mando hovering off to the side. He did not ask for a drink, nor did you think he would accept if one was even offered. You glanced over at him, wondering if you should defer to him – he had wanted to come to Freetown to speak with the Marshal, who was currently more fixated on you. On the other hand…it had been a while since you had a chance to talk to someone who wasn’t a literal child.

Turning to focus your attention on Cobb, you explained your background and talked generally about what you were doing for Mando. You left out most of the details in the interest of protecting both his and Grogu’s safety but were secretly delighted that the man did not pry for answers. Instead, he asked questions about you – where you were from, your research, your favorite parts of the galaxy you had seen thus far. He had a charming way of speaking, and a quick wit, and you found yourself losing track of time as the conversation flowed steadily into the evening.

At some point, Cobb had procured a small table for the two of you, and you perched on the edge of your seat as he explained how he had come to meet the Mandalorian. He laughed at how your jaw dropped during the tale of how Mando had flown into the mouth of a krayt dragon to blow it up from the inside. You spared another glace towards the bounty hunter, who hadn’t moved since you had entered the cantina. His helmet was fixed on you, and though you couldn’t see his eyes something told you his gaze was fixed on you. The feeling sent a slight shiver up your spine.

Seeming to notice, Cobb reached out and placed a calloused hand over your own. “It has truly been a pleasure,” he smiled. “But I better go speak to Mando before he burns a hole through both our heads.” You returned his smile and stood – albeit a little wobbly from the several drinks you had consumed over the past hour or so.

The Marshal beckoned for someone to come over, and explained that they would show you to a room you could stay in for the night. As he did so, Mando walked over, his bulk just millimeters from your back. You opened your mouth to greet him, but he just handed you Grogu in his sack and asked that you take the now-sleeping baby with you.

“Of course,” you said, gently taking the child into your arms. “See you later?”

Mando did not answer you and instead took your seat across from Cobb. The Marshal wished you a good night, and you followed the young woman he had procured to show you to your room.

--

An hour later, you were freshly bathed and had changed into a clean set of clothes. The room was decently sized, if not a bit dusty from lack of use. It held one large bed along with several chairs and a small table and was attached to a small side room that had a smaller bed. You had tucked Grogu into the smaller bed in the side room, closing the door gently so that you could prepare for sleep without waking him up.

You laid against the pillows and were browsing your datapad when the sound of the door sliding open signaled the arrival of Mando. You watched him clunk into the room over the top of your datapad. He stood in the middle of the room for a moment, a tension in the atmosphere having followed him in. “Where’s the kid?” He asked, and you pointed to the side room. He walked over to the door and opened it slightly to peer inside. Satisfied, he gently closed it and continued to stand there in the middle of the room.

“Have a good chat?” You asked, breaking the frigid silence after it became clear he was not going to. Mando settled into a chair heavily, spreading his legs and resting his arms on those of the chair.

“Was gonna ask you the same thing,” he rasped in response, and you raised a brow in question.

“What do you mean?” You asked, tapping a nail against the side of your datapad. Mando raised one shoulder in a half-shrug.

“You two seemed to hit it off.”

“Who? Me and Cobb?” You set down your datapad and crossed your arms. “He was nice.”

You could hardly believe the scoff you heard from the man. “Sure. That’s one way to put it.”

“Are you jealous?”

“…No.”

“You are,” you expanded, uncrossing your arms and swinging your legs over to hang over the side of the bed. “You’re upset that he was flirting with me, aren’t you?”

Mando was silent, and you wondered if his jaw was clenched under that helmet. You looked at him expectantly, and he sighed.

“I’m not upset,” you tried to clarify. “I think that’s just how he is. It’s ok to be jealous, Mando.”

“I am not jealous,” he grit out, and you tried to hide a smirk. Standing, you swayed over to stand in front of him. You were wearing an old oversized tunic that came just above your knees, and not much else. You stepped in between his spread thighs, your bare legs bumping against his armor. Even sitting, his head was nearly level with your own. Were you pushing it, standing naked from the waist down in between the legs of a dangerous and definitely jealous man? Perhaps.

“Then why were you staring at us the whole time?” You teased. “Mad that your friend was talking to me and not you?”

“I was waiting for him to make a move,” Mando interrupted. “To touch you.”

“Yeah?” You queried, and in a burst of bravery, you sat lightly on one of his broad thighs. You felt him tense underneath you, even through the armor, and resettle his weight back In the chair to support you more firmly. “What was your plan if he had made a move?”

One of his gloved hands came to rest on your bare thigh, and he slowly pulled it towards him, forcing your legs to spread slightly. His hand rubbed soft circles into your flesh, and you shifted so that your back was supported against the side of the chair.

“Hauling you over my shoulder and back into my ship,” Mando husked, hand venturing further up your thigh, under the hem of the long tunic. Your breath hitched as his fingers brushed lightly over your bare cunt. “And reminding you.”

One of his fingers ran up and down your slit, and you shifted again, trying to get him to put more pressure where you wanted it. “Remind me of what?” You asked breathlessly. Mando’s other hand crept up your back to grip your neck, forcing you to arch in his lap. He stood, hauling you up against him with ease. He half-dragged you over to the bed, sitting down so that he could pull you up against his back into his lap.

“This,” he said simply, spreading your thighs wider and grinding his hips up into your backside. You could feel him, hot and hard under his flight suit, and you let out a low moan at the sensation. One hand roamed over your shaking thighs, playing with the slick gathering between your legs, while the other came up to cross against your chest, holding you tightly against him.

“I was thinking,” Mando continued, sounding almost casual in his tone and timbre, “Of how to show you what you’d be missing. How to show other men that you spend your nights in my bed.”

You licked your lips, feeling air-light as he rasped through the modulator into your ear. His fingers between your legs alternated from pinching your swollen clit to probing your entrance.

“That’s what I was thinking,” he said lowly. “What were you thinking, wicked girl?”

“I’m thinking you should just fuck me already,” you gasped out, and Mando laughed. It echoed through your blank mind like smoke, and your eyes fluttered closed as two of his thick fingers slid tightly inside of you, thumb pressing against your clit. Your hips bucked at the sensation, only to be held tight in his iron grip.

“Can you be quiet?” Mando asked throatily, and you could feel the rumble of it from his chest. “The kid is sleeping…and who knows who else might be listening?”

“I thought you wanted them to know,” you whimpered, and his grip on you loosened for a millisecond before he stood and flipped you face-first onto the bed. The back of your tunic was pushed up as he pushed your shoulders down to the mattress, and dragged your hips up toward where he stood behind you.

“Keep quiet,” he gruffed out, and you heard the familiar sound of his belt coming undone and felt his bare hips warm against your ass. “You only cry for me, understand?”

“Y-ye-“ you barely had a chance to respond before he shoved his throbbing cock into you, punching the air out of your lungs in one solid thrust. Keening, you let your head fall against your arms as Mando gripped your hips firmly and began a steady, brutal pace.

He spread your thighs as wide as they would go so that you could take all of him in with every thrust. Something about his hands on your hips and the way he moved you felt necessary – deep, intense thrusts that would resist anything except acceptance from him. The bed creaked from his weight against your body, along with the rich sound of his hips slapping against yours.

The superiority of this angle made you focus on the place where he filled you like it was the center of your universe. You bit into the flesh of your arm in an attempt to silence the keening cries that wanted to escape from your throat. Mando groaned above you, and his pace quickened.

“This what you wanted?” he husked lowly. “To come on my cock? Come on, wicked girl, come on-“

You choked out a wordless plea as his weight came down across your thighs, and his cock rammed as far as it could go. You knew you would feel the ache of him inside of you for days.

“M-mando-“ you keened again, and you felt his grip on your hips clench harder.

“Gotta be quiet,” he rasped. “Want them to hear how you’re spread open for my cock?” You could feel your orgasm approaching like a ship preparing to exit hyperspace. You were sure nothing in your life would ever feel as good, as full, as right as the heavy weight of his cock inside of you.

The frantic clutch of your cunt wrung from Mando his own release. He all but collapsed onto you, wrapping you up so that you disappeared into his embrace. You came with a muffled scream, your leg going numb from the release of tension and the weight of the man fucking his semen into you.

Not allowing you reprieve, Mando groaned and collapsed onto his side, rolling you so that you were pressed up against him. His iron-hard cock was still inside of you, throbbing its release, and his hand came down between your legs to tweak at your clit. “Again,” he demanded, and you threw your head back and hit it against his helmet. He shoved the fingers of his other hand into your mouth to silence your cries as you came again, obediently, at the clumsy push of his fingers against your sore cunt.

Your body jerked against him, twitching from the edge of overstimulation. His cock, still streaming cum, slid out of you, pulsing the last of his release over your flushed entrance. For a while, all that could be heard was the sound of your breaths easing back from near hyperventilation. Mando’s grip on you was still possessive, but he shushed you gently and murmured praise into the back of your neck, hands circling your skin to ground your consciousness back down to him.

After that, Mando gently slid from behind you and lifted you into his arms. Your legs still shook from the onslaught, and he carried you quietly to the refresher where he helped you wipe yourself clean.

“All right?” He murmured as he brought a soft cloth to your inner thighs. You smiled sleepily and leaned your head forward to lay against his chest, pressing a soft kiss to the cold metal.

“If that wasn’t you being jealous,” you whispered, “Maybe next time I should flirt back.”

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

Night on the town

Mandalorian x reader

Pairing: Din Djarin Mandalorian x reader

Warning: mentions of alcohol and some 18+ themes. No minors please!

Summary: Reader doesn’t listen to Mandos warnings about staying on the ship, then wakes up with something new and a bit troubling…

****************************************************

“Don’t leave the ship” those four words had been echoing in your head all week.

For months you’d never really minded following your Mandalorians orders, most planets he landed on for bounties were backwater scugholes whose inhabitants were low level creeps and criminals. You were perfectly fine staying within the safe compounds of the ship normally…but this planet was different.

Ceralis 3 was known for its bustling city full of high quality clothing stalls, the tastiest food establishments, musical performances, and oh how you couldn’t stop thinking about the renowned city square that’s lit up like starlight when the suns go down and everyone gathers to dance. You’d seen so many brochures advertising Ceralis 3 as a top vacation spot. And now you were finally here… stuck on a ship.

“Must be nice..” you mumble head resting flat on your arms watching the suns set from behind the glass of the ships viewport. The twinkling lights in the distant mocking you as if to say “here we are shining so bright and you’re stuck in a dark smelly cockpit”.

Ok so maybe that’s an exaggeration.. but still you were minutes away from going crazy with boredom.

“Don’t leave the ship” he said from the bottom of the ramp like he always does before leaving for a bounty.

Bounty hunting usually doesn’t take a week though… ugh

You lean up on your arms watching the twinkling lights of the city getting brighter. What was everyone doing now? Drinking? Dancing? Having 1000x more fun than you were right now??

You glance at the small data pad that Din gave you. When he was finished with a bounty he usually sent a quick message through.

You checked it again for the millionth time.

No new messages…

What if you just went for a quick look… no

No you couldn’t do that, din would be angry if he found out.

If he found out…

If…

You check the data pad again. Every time he sent a message it usually took him a decent amount of time to get back to the ship, he’d usually stop for supplies and whatnot.

So you had time even if he messaged you while you were out…

But could you break his trust so easily-

*pop pop pop*

Bright strands of fiery light shot up from the skyline in the shapes of flowers.

Well he didn’t need to know everything…

You sprung up practically jumping down the ladder to your small closet.

You smirked pulling out the one nice “out for a night on the town outfit” you owned. A stark contrast to the usual travel outfits you donned.

You applied some light makeup, grabbed your satchel and were off the ship in record time.

You took note of the pathway, and kept the data pad close to your hip in case that all to familiar beep sounded and you needed to rush back..

You gasped nearing a well lit archway taller than anything you’d seen before.

Giddy with excitement you ran in and were immediately overtaken by a rush of… well everything.

The streets were lit bright with lanterns, full of laughing and singing people.

The smells were making your mouth water wondering what on earth could smell so heavenly, and the buildings.. oh the absolutely breathtaking carvings. You didn’t know what to do first!

So you did the first thing that you saw, you ate from several stalls, bought a bunch of jewelry and souvenirs that you absolutely didn’t need, watched a few performances, drank some juice being served on a tray that you didn’t realize had alcohol… and then made your way to the famous square.

Oh and what a sight it was… like someone had the most dazzling dream and brought it to life. Everyone was jumping and dancing to live musicians. You wondered briefly if your Mandalorian could dance. Probably not.. but maybe if you really asked nicely he would.. or if you just dragged him..

You wished he was here.. you usually weren’t separated that long so it’s been a little lonely.

You sighed watching the couples dance and hold each other warmly. Some kissing some just gazing into each others eyes…

Ok more than a little lonely..

Maybe you should head back..

You sipped on your juice walking back in the direction of the ship.

What lovely juice, so sweet and spicy at the same time..

Mmm juicy juice so lovely

Hmm you peeked at a stall in passing, maybe you should get him something? Yeah that’s right, he wouldn’t be mad at you for leaving if you got him a gift!

Maybe you’d get some more juice while you shopped and then maybe——-

************************************************

Ugh why is my head pounding so bad…

You wince sitting up in the cot holding your head with a hand.

You blink slowly regaining your senses, the previous nights memories ending in a blur. You didn’t even remember coming back to the ship…

Ugh you were so stupid, the “juice” was alcohol and you’d had so many of them..

You panicked a bit not seeing your satchel on the hook but then calmed seeing it on the floor.

With a sigh you reached in pulling out the data pad and pressing the button.

*new message*

Oh kriff..

*Heading back. Shouldn’t take more than half a day.*

Half a day… wait when did he send that!?

The sky was so bright outside how long had you been asleep?? You looked down seeing you were still dressed up from last night.

I better change before he gets-

You stumble a bit feeling your leg let out a painful throb.

Oh no was I stupid and injured myself last night?

Quickly you pull up your clothing expecting a bruise or a cut or something but instead what awaited you was infinitely worse.

“Oh maker what have I done…”

You vaguely remember wanting to get something for Din but why on earth did your drunken state think that was a good idea!?!?

Kriff what did I do!?!?

You wobble quickly to the mirror to get a better look at the new addition to your outer thigh.

An abstract outline of your mandalorians helmet with his name cursively written under it.

Oh now you remembered.. bits and pieces as you stumbled into a tattoo stall and scribbled on a paper demanding it be the bestest bestie best tattoo ever, you even remember the guy asking if you wanted to wait until you were sober but then you cried until he did it.

Kill me now…

Ugh Why why why!? How was I going to explain this to Din!?

As if the universe was punishing you even more you heard a familiar beeping and gasped feeling the vibrations of the ships ramp moving.

Of kriffing course he would arrive now!

You quickly pull your clothing down and try to look as nonchalant as you can watching as Din walks up the ramp into the hull.

His bounty blocked your view of him but he was fighting and throwing some curses but Din is quick to throw him in the carbonite freezer.

You gulp as he finally turns around to regard you.

“Welcome back..” you tried to sound like your normal self. Key word being tried.

Din stood still for a moment then his helmet slowly shifted from your face down to your body then up again.

Oh yeah my outfit and makeup…

“You look…nice” he said a bit confused.

Maybe you could spin this…

“Oh well I um wanted to um surprise you… I really missed you Din..”

You hoped your nervousness would be taken as you just being embarrassed to dress up for him.

He tilted his helmet a bit, his stance relaxing ever so slightly and he took a couple steps in your direction.

“Yeah?”

Oh how easy men could be sometimes…

“Yeah” you smiled stepping forward too and wrapping your arms around him. “You were gone a while this time..”

He pulled back a bit to see you but his strong arms were still held firm around you.

“Yeah the bounty was more work than I originally anticipated, sorry you had to be alone so long.”

“It’s alright..you’re back now that’s all that matters…” you smile up into his visor knowing his eyes are deeply peering into yours just as lovingly.

His hands slide a bit and he grips you a bit tighter “if I knew you were gonna dress up just for me, I would’ve forgotten all about the bounty and rushed here..”

“Mm I’ll have to remember that for next time…” you lean up tilting your head to the side to kiss the bare skin just under his helmet. He breathes in, deep and crackley through the modulator.

Your hands reach up about to lift his helmet off when suddenly his head moves to the side.

“Din?” You frown a bit following his gaze then when you do your eyes widen a bit at what you see.

A beautifully beaded tote bag overflowing with items leaned against the wall, a strand of pearls strewn across it along with a shimmery scarf and a bottle of “juice”. Oh Kriff just how drunk did you get last night!?!?

“What’s that?”

“Oh um just some old stuff I pulled out when I was trying stuff on for you..”

He pulled away and you knew you had messed up.

“Din..?”

He approached the bag and knelt down. He picked up the bottle with one hand.

“And you just happened to have an alcohol that’s only produced on this planet in your storage?” His voice had completely shifted from gentle and loving to interrogative typical pre meeting me Mando.

“Well…”

He abruptly stood up with a sigh.

“You left the ship” he stated with a huff.

You bite your lip looking away from the intense stare.

“…”

“What’s the one thing I told you never to do?” You could tell he was angry but was trying to hold it back.

“…go against your orders..”

“Go against my orders and what did you do?”

“I left the ship… I’m sorry but I was so bored and lonely and I just…” maker could you sound any more pathetic and whiny.

He let out a huff of annoyance, “you put yourself in danger because you were bored?”

“Din..”

“You don’t know this planet, and I have a million enemies, I don’t tell you to stay on the ship for the hell of it” he bit out getting more frustrated.

“I… I know… I’m sorry I wasn’t thinking..”

You heard a sigh again and hesitantly looked up. His shoulder relaxed a bit his tone a bit softer but still plenty stern. “I can’t go after bounties and worry about you too..”

Well now you felt like absolutely shit

“Oh Din I’m so sorry, of course you can’t, shouldn’t actually. It was dumb and stupid and reckless and I promise I won’t leave again. No matter how tempting it is..”

He stood for a moment deciding you were sincere in your words, he held out a single arm motioning for you to come closer again,

You do and hug him muttering another apology.

“So you didn’t dress up for me huh..?”

Oh..

You peek up from his chest finding his gaze on yours,

“Well… not exactly but my first thought when I looked in the mirror was how I wished you were by my side to see me… does that count?”

He lets out a scoff and lowers his hands “No”

You pout

“But I know how you can make it up to me”.

His hands are back on you stroking your thighs kneeding them softly when all the sudden you yelp.

He pulls away shocked “what’s wrong?”

“Oh uh nothing just got caught up in the moment…”

His head tilts and boy for someone with a helmet on his expressions were clear as day.

“Wanna run that by me again?”

“I had a cramp?” You lamely ask.

Seconds of silence pass before his hands are reaching for the tips of your dress.

“Ah wait no!”

You jump back not ready now or ever for him to see your latest mistake.

He freezes, now that’s something you’d never done before.

“You hurt yourself didn’t you?” He crosses his arms.

“I did not..”

“Then what are you hiding?”

“….”

He sighs again loudly “you have three seconds to show me before I do it myself.”

Kriff…

You hesitate not knowing what to do.

“One”

Ugh what now!?

“Two”

Maybe you could lock yourself in the fresher…

“Three”

You make a dash for the open door but make it all of two steps before strong arms pull you back.

“Really?” He huffs annoyed.

“Din wait!”

“Just relax what’s the worst it could be?”

No way you couldn’t show him, you catch him off guard by fighting his hold.

“Hey stop that”

“Enough!” His bark cuts through you like a knife and you freeze.

He spins you around, his hands locked onto your arms.

“Din...” you plead but he won’t budge.

He maneuvers your hands into one of his while his other reaches for your dress. You can’t help but try one more time to evade him and use the one move he taught you in self defense,

Of course because he’s who he is all it buys you is three seconds before he has you sprawled over his knees.

How ironic… if only he knew how you’d fantasized about this exact position.

“You really wanna make things hard don’t you?”

“Din please you don’t understand! Just leave me alone-“ and just like that the delicate freshly tattooed skin was exposed to the cool air of the ship and his searing gaze.

Then it was silent..

“I-I didn’t mean to I got drunk by accident and then wanted to get you a gift and for some crazy reason I thought a tattoo would be a good idea and…and…and-“ your nervous ramblings continued until you suck in a sharp breath feeling soft fingers caress the area just around the tender area.

“You did this…for me?”

“W-well yeah…”

You try to turn your head to see him but it’s impossible in your condition.

He silently caresses the area around it as if he…wait no way!?

“Do… do you like it?” You asked hesitantly.

He let out a breath.

“Can’t say I hate it…”

Oh my maker

“R-really?” You question an eyebrow raised.

“Mm” you flinch a bit feeling his fingers trace over the sore area.

He pulled you up so you were straddling him facing his visor.

“Sorry I left the ship…” you say after a few moments of silence.

“Swear you won’t do that again..”

“I promise..”

“Are you angry with me?”

“Yes” he said without hesitation.

“Really? After all the trouble I went through getting you your gift” you smirk a bit wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

His hands gripped your thighs squeezing softly, “Yes…” you smiled knowing by his voice he was all talk. You already had him in the palm of your hand.

“Want me to make it up to you?” You whisper near the side of his helmet.

He makes some sort of hum through the helmet and you take that as a yes, you push him back a bit so the distance between you is closed, your core pressed against him deliciously.

His hands travelled around squeezing and caressing in the ways only he knew how you liked. You’re about to lift his helmet up so you could finally kiss him when he pauses his movements.

Ugh not again

“What’s wrong?”

“You were drunk…?”

Ah Kriff, why did I have to let that part slip out.

“Y-yes but just a bit…”

He looks at you in a no nonsense way,

“Ok maybe more than a bit but it really wasn’t my fault, I didn’t know the drinks had alcohol..”

He sighs

Man if I had a credit for everytime I made this man sigh…

“I know I know, it was dumb and reckless and I won’t do it again, can we go back to what we were doing please? Remember the tattoo I got for you?”

I push his helmet towards my thigh.

He lets out a little laugh, “alright alright I get it”

His thumb strokes it again, “it suits you”

You let out a laugh, “I think it suits you more…didn’t realize you were that type of guy…but honestly it’s growing on me too, he did a good job didn’t he?” You peer down admiring the details. Not realizing Dins fingers had froze.

“He?”

“….”

Oh Kriff

************************************************

I’ve been on a huge Mandalorian kick lately and had this little idea. Hope you enjoyed! Also please excuse the lazy editing❤️

[flightlessangelwings]

Stripping Away Our Armor

Din Djarin x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word count- 5.6k

Prompt/Summary- “Who did this to you?” / You are an informant for the Mandalorian, and secret, unspoken feelings start to blossom between you. But how does he react when he comes by one night and you’re hurt?

Warnings- smut (18+ only!), sex worker reader (we respect sex workers in this house), oral (m receiving), soft romantic sex, praise kink, mutual pining, kind of forbidden romance, hurt/comfort, protective!Din, Din likes cheesy jokes, allusion to violence (nothing excessive), injured reader (nothing super descriptive), minor character death, slight grumpy/sunshine vibes

Notes- Surprise @misspearly1 I’m your Pedro gift exchange writer!!! 💖 I’ve had fun being a sneaky anon and writing this for you!!! I’m sorry this is a little late but I hope you enjoy this!! And thank you @pedrostories for organizing this event!!!

Reblogs/asks/follows are highly appreciated! 💖

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to follow that too and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!

Graphic made by me (I love the Star Wars vibe of this so much!!)

~

Colorful lights flickered to the beat of the dance music in the club as the Mandalorian walked through the crowd. All types of characters surrounded him: from the young and eager to see the spectacular around them to those who tried to blend in while on the run. Men crowded around the small tables and threw credits and sleazy looks at the dancers. Women with barely anything on their bodies sauntered by carrying trays of drinks. Some gave him a flirty glance, but most recognized him and left him alone. 

There was only ever one person who he saw at the club.

“She’s not here right now, Mando,” one of the other girls, Sonya, set her tray down at the bar and addressed him as he approached. She gave him a subtle flirty glance before she flagged the bartender and gave him a drink order for her table. 

“What happened?” he replied, his voice masking the concern that laid below.

Sonya shrugged, “I think she’s on a personal visit to a vip client. You’re welcome to wait for her,” she gathered fresh glasses and filled them as she spoke, “I’ll let her know you’re here when she gets back. But it might be late,” she eyed the Mandalorian up and down and her done dropped as she smirked, “I can always keep you company in the meantime,” she traced her finger along the beskar on his arm. She knew that the Mandalorian only ever asked for you, yet she couldn’t help but grasp the opportunity while she had it.

Mando gently moved his arm away from her reach, “I’ll wait for her,” he stated plainly yet without malice.

Her expression dropped as she let out a heavy exhale, “Suit yourself.” Sonya knew it was a long shot, yet she wasn’t immune to the beskar-clad man’s effortless charm. But she took his rejection with dignity as she turned and walked away. 

The Mandalorian turned to face the crowd and leaned against the bar. Keeping on high alert at all times, he scanned the crowd and studied the faces he saw. There were some he knew he recognized from bounty pucks, but they weren’t his concern at the moment. He had a higher paying target he was after, and he needed your help to find him.

This arrangement started many months ago when Mando first came into the club to look for a target. Most everyone else who was there at the time was too scared or too intimidated by him. Except for you. You took him into the back and gave him all the information he needed… and then you gave him a taste of your services.

From then, he was drawn back to you time and time again. Mando refused to admit he was addicted to you. But there were times that he looked more forward to the time he spent with you than the information you provided. And once you were behind closed doors, the facade of the toughness you kept up melted away to reveal a kind, good person. And that only made Mando more mesmerized by you. 

It was something he understood fully: keep your emotions out of your line of work. He did the same. Yet, when the two of you were alone together, the Mandalorian felt like you were the only person in the galaxy that really saw the true him. And the way your tough exterior faded away as your face relaxed and your smile lit up the room told him that you trusted him too. You were even the one person to actually make him laugh too, and it felt so good to Mando to let his guard down. 

As he stood at the bar and waited for you, Mando couldn’t help but drift back to the day the two of you met… 

*

“I’m looking for someone,” the Mandalorian asked the bartender as he set the bounty puck down, “He been by here?”

The bartender just huffed and turned to serve others at the far end of the bar without even glancing at the holo image.

Mando let out a heavy sigh as he turned around and faced the crowd. Most danced to the pulsing music and didn’t even give him a second glance. Some scurried out of his way, but he paid them no mind. 

The target had to be here somewhere…

“Need something, Mandalorian?” a sultry voice called his attention, “Perhaps I can… be of service…” your tone dropped as you bat your eyes flirtatiously and shimmied your shoulder subtly. 

Mando looked you up and down and his posture stiffened; you were captivating. Even as a hardened bounty hunter, Mando couldn’t help but notice the way your tiny outfit sparkled right at your breasts to draw men’s eyes. His fists tightened as he fought to keep his composure, “This man… Supposed to be a regular here…”

Just as Mando was about to activate the holo image, you covered it, “Not out here,” your eyes narrowed as you leaned in, “Follow me…” 

The Mandalorian wasn’t sure why but he felt a pull as you slid your hand in his gloved one and took him back to one of the private rooms. And that’s when it happened: the hardened exterior faded away the moment the door was closed and the sultry expression morphed into a genuinely bright smile. 

“Man it smells like upbabe in here…” you sighed in exasperation once you and the Mandalorian were alone.

He stood silent, the slight tilt of his helmet was the only movement as you felt his gaze heavy on you.

You rolled your eyes playfully, “You’re supposed to say ‘what’s upbabe’ and then I say ‘not much what’s up with you!’”

The Mandalorian was caught off guard by your joke once our tough exterior melted away. He stared at you for several moments before he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh- the first time he did that in a very long time…

* 

“Mando…?” 

Your voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he was brought back to the present where you stood before him. You looked as radiant as ever, and Mando couldn’t help the wave of relief that washed over him at seeing you were alright.

“Hey,” he replied.

“Here for the usual?” you asked coyly. When he nodded in response, you slid your hand in his gloved one and your tone dropped seductively, “Follow me.”

He welcomed that familiar touch… that familiar routine. 

Once the two of you were alone in one of the private rooms, you placed a hand on Mando’s chest and gently guided him backwards. His visor never left you as he allowed you to lead him: something he didn’t let anyone else do. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something different about you. The Mandalorian didn’t trust easily, but he trusted you. 

All the breath left his body as Mando landed on the chair behind him. But he wasn’t sure if it was the landing that knocked the breath out of his chest or if it was the way you looked at him with a fire behind your eyes. Mando’s knees instantly parted to allow you to settle in between his legs, and neither of you broke eye contact as you slowly dropped to your knees on the floor before him.

Mando breathed your name as he reached out and cupped your chin. Your hands landed on his inner thighs just above the plates of beskar on his legs and you gave his flesh a firm squeeze. But just as Mando tried to reach for you and touch you more, eager to make you feel as good as you always made him feel, you stopped him. 

“Let me, Mando,” you whispered as you ran your hands along his thighs and fiddled with the seam at the center of his pants, “I want to take care of you today.”

He couldn’t help but groan as his cock hardened at the thought of what you had planned. Mando watched as you freed his cock from the confines of his pants, and his hands balled into fists when you licked your lips involuntarily. You glanced up at him for a moment before you settled yourself and wrapped your hand around his length.

You worked slowly at first, raising and lowering your hand along Mando’s cock. You watched with eagerness as he hardened more and more with his pump of your fist until he was fully erect before you. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you shifted your position to rub your thighs together for some friction that you suddenly desperately needed. 

Before Mando could address your action, though, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, your tongue lapping at the sensitive head as you did so. He growled as his hands landed on your shoulders as you lowered your head down his shaft, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could.

“Fuck,” Mando hissed as the warmth of your mouth engulfed him, “So good mesh’la…” the praise dripped from his lips in a low tone before he could help it.

You hummed around his cock as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him off as hard as you could, knowing exactly what he liked. Raising your head back up, you popped off his cock to instead lick at the salty sweet skin there. You nibbled gently at the head before you ran your tongue flat down the shaft.

Mando groaned your name as you made your way back up his length, your tongue hitting every vein and sensitive spot along the way. Before you took him into your mouth again, you paused and looked up at him and Mando swore the universe froze for a moment. You looked so tantalizing as you looked at him with a desperate fire in your eyes, a trail of spit still connected the two of you.

“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” he sighed heavily.

Without replying, you took Mando’s cock into your mouth again and swallowed as much of it as you could. This time, you had a specific intention in mind, and you weren’t going to stop until you got what you wanted. Mando growled as your warmth became his whole world once more as you bobbed up and down on his cock.

“Fuck… Cyar’ika… I’m…” was all he managed to get out between a string of curses in Mando’a before he exploded in your mouth.

You never let up, even as Mando’s cum filled your throat. You kept going, working and sucking his cock as he came hard into your mouth. And you greedily lapped up and swallowed every last drop, not wanting even one bit to go to waste. You kept going until Mando grabbed onto your scalp and pulled you off of him when he was completely spent.

The two of you stayed in a heavy silence for several moments. Both of you just panted as you both caught your breath, and even though you didn’t see his face, you felt the intensity of his gaze behind the helmet. It sent a fresh wave of need through you and you couldn’t help but moan as you suddenly became aware of how tightly he held you.

In a rush, Mando pounced off the chair and crashed your bodies to the floor. Normally, he preferred to fuck you in a bed, or at least a table, but there was something about you today that filled him with need. He couldn’t wait. He had to feel you, hold you… taste you…

“I need you, sweetheart,” Mando growled as he covered your body with his own and his hands roamed all over you. 

All the air was suddenly forced out of your chest as you hit the floor hard. Too wrapped up in the euphoria of having the Mandalorian on top of you, his hands roaming all over your figure, you almost forgot about why you didn’t allow him to touch you for a moment. But you were painfully reminded when his large hand grabbed your waist and pulled you close against him.

You cried out in pain and all the ecstasy of Mando’s touch completely vanished.

Right away, Mando pulled off of you and sat up on his knees, “What is it?” he asked in concern as his hand hovered over you, “What’s wrong?”

You were not going to shed tears in front of him. You were determined not to show any sign of pain or vulnerability. But the pain in your side screamed at you until you could barely hear anything else. It wasn’t until Mando said your name again that you opened your eyes and looked at him. And even though you didn’t see an inch of skin on him, you could tell he was concerned just from the way he held himself in front of you, his chest puffed up and his shoulders tense. 

“It’s…” you let out a deep breath as you steadied yourself, “It’s nothing,” you tried your best to hide your pain as you scooted away from him slightly, “I’m alright. Just hit the ground a little too hard…”

“It’s not nothing,” Mando’s tone turned serious as he inched forward to stay in your proximity, “Let me see.”

“N-no…” you tried to protest.

“Cyare…” His tone was soft yet it left no room for argument, and the Mandalorian moved too fast for you to block anyway. That came as no surprise, considering he was the best bounty hunter in the galaxy. What did surprise you, however, was the tenderness and care in his touch as he held your sides and carefully lifted your shirt up.

Mando couldn’t stop the low growl that escaped his lips when he saw the wound on your side. It was fresh, but not bleeding. And a scan with his helmet told him that it wasn’t deep, which provided some relief. He sighed as he looked up at your face and he internally kicked himself for not noticing the slight swelling just below your eye before now.

“What happened?” Mando couldn’t help the anger in his voice, though it wasn’t directed at you, “Who did this to you?” he tenderly cupped your face with both hands. When you stayed silent as you looked into his visor with sad eyes, he added softly, “Tell me.”

You let out a heavy breath as you caved, “Shaun…” your voice was hushed as your gaze dropped to the ground, “Shaun Deggs.” All the light that Mando admired in your eyes was gone, and the normally bright smile that drew him back time and time again was clouded over with the tears that you fought back. 

Mando knew the name: it was the target he came to ask you about. His blood boiled as he thought about all the ways he would make him pay for hurting you. You, who was his one light in a dark world. You who was the only person he looked forward to seeing. You, who Mando… cared a lot for. 

He let out a low growl as his grip tensed.

Feeling the intensity of his emotions, you filled the tense silence, “He’s been a regular at the club for some time… deep pockets. He gets himself into trouble with gambling though,” you rambled, “I don’t know how, but somehow he found out I was working with you…” you sighed wearily, “He didn’t like that…” your voice trailed off as you let the Mandalorian piece together what happened.

Mando never felt a rage like this before; he never felt the need to protect someone so greatly like this. At that moment, it didn’t matter that Shaun was worth more alive than dead. He was going to pay for what he did to you with his life. He was going to pay for taking away the light in your eyes.

“Where can I find him?”

*

“No, no, no… P-please…” Shaun begged as he crawled on the floor. Bruises erupted all over his skin as cuts bled and he was sure he had at least three broken bones.

Hovering over him was the imitating figure of the Mandalorian. Blade in hand, he leaned over and smacked him across the face once more as he grumbled lowly. Never before had the Mandalorian felt a rage like this, and with every smack to this low life, he saw your face flash before him. Mando wondered if you looked like this when Shaun paid you a visit, if you were this scared. And he wasn’t there to protect you…

“Tell Gar I promise I’ll pay him back,” Shaun’s voice cracked as his body weakened, “Just don’t kill me please… I’m worth more alive, Mando.”

“I don’t care,” Mando growled, “You hurt someone… Important to me,” he spoke your name, “You remember her?”

Shaun bit his lip and nodded as he whimpered, “I-I’m sorry… I won’t go near her ever again. I swear!”

“I know you won’t…” 

The scream Shaun let out echoed in the room. 

*

You let out a heavy sigh as you ran your hands across your face. It was late into the night, and Mando made you promise to stay at your place until he got back after he walked you home and bandaged your injuries. He barely spoke while he carefully set the bacta patches on the gashes in your skin, but you felt the tension there without the words needed. Even through the layers of amor, you felt his anger radiate and you saw the tension in his arms and shoulders. You had never seen him like this before, and it made your mind spin.

Ever since you first laid eyes on the Mandalorian, there was something that drew you to him. Instead of being scared of him, you felt safe in his presence, and he was the one person you felt like you could let your guard down around. The routine came easily for the two of you: he would come by the club for information on a target, and you would take him to a back room and give him what he needed… and then some. Fully expecting him to be rough with you, it came as a pleasant surprise when Mando was so tender with his touches and he handled you so gently.

Feelings weren’t a luxury you could afford in this life, though. And you knew being a Mandalorian, he couldn’t let himself get too close either. So you kept your true feelings buried deep down, and you were grateful for the time you got with him. It caught you completely off guard though when Mando went into a rage once he saw you were hurt.

“That has to mean something, right?” you whispered to yourself as you clutched the small vibroblade Mando handed you, not wanting to leave you unarmed. There were two things you knew about the Mandalorian and his culture: the helmet never came off, and weapons were as important as air. 

You bit your lip and held the weapon close to yourself as you heard his words to you in your head: “Stay here. Keep this close. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

But you were jolted from your thoughts by a knock at your door. A specific, rhythmic knock. Your face lit up as you set the blade down on the table and jumped for the door. When you opened it, the familiar figure of the Mandalorian greeted you on the other side and your shoulders dropped with a heavy exhale of relief. 

“Mando…” you breathed.

He cupped your face as his heart fluttered in his chest at the sight of your smile, “You’re safe now.”

Glancing down, you noticed a small splash of blood on his beskar. Your eyes went wide as you realized what his words meant, and the way he held your face confirmed your suspicions. You grabbed onto the fabric around his armor and dragged him inside without another word. Emotions ran high as he locked the door behind him and gladly followed your lead.

“Mesh’la,” Mando murmured as he leaned forward and rested his forehead on yours. His hands lightly trailed down your face so that he caressed your jaw on both sides as he exhaled deeply.

“Mando,” you repeated, too lost in a whirlwind of emotions to form any other words. What he did for you was… 

“Din.”

You blinked your eyes open, not even aware you had closed them, “Is that…?”

His hands trailed down your sides so that they rested on your hips, though he was still careful of your wounds, “Yes.”

Tears of happiness filled your eyes as you smiled brightly, “Din…” you echoed his name.

Din groaned at the sound of his name in your voice. “Close your eyes,” his tone was soft as one hand came up and cupped your jaw, “Trust me.”

“I do trust you.” A soft moan escaped your lips as you obliged without a second thought. You trusted the Mandalorian… Din. And you were sure he trusted you too. From the way he reacted when you were hurt, to him leaving one of his weapons with you, to killing a target that would have brought him a higher payout if he had been alive. There had to be something there.

When your world went black, you felt the hand come off your hip before a soft hiss echoed in the room. Your breath caught in your chest as you felt his breath on the skin on your face. He murmured your name as his fingers caressed your jaw before the gap between your faces closed.

This was the first time he kissed you; every time before, the hamlet always stayed on. And kissing Din was even better than you had imagined. Without words, his kiss conveyed all the unspoken emotions, and when his tongue touched yours, everything bubbled over into an explosion of affections. 

Din moaned into your mouth as his hand tightened on your face and he kissed you deeper. Your lips parted as you tilted your head and surrendered to him completely. The taste of him sent a wave of heat through your body, and your core fired up at the way his tongue tangled with yours. 

Keeping your eyes closed, you grabbed onto his shoulders and dragged him back towards your bedroom. Nerves tingled against your skin as vaguely you realized this was the first time you took him back into your private, personal room. But, you felt safe with him, you trusted him, and you wanted him there.

Din broke away from the kiss when he crossed the threshold into your room, and he lowered his helmet only to have his hands free to hold you. His arms wrapped around you carefully as Din savored the lingering taste of you on his tongue. He let out a contented sigh as your warmth wrapped around his heart, and he had you safe and sound in his embrace.

But, you had other plans in mind, and after you stayed in his arms for a moment, you lifted your head and started to yank at the pieces of his beskar. A soft laugh escaped Din’s lips as he let you strip him, and his heart fluttered as he watched how expertly and with such care you took off his armor: a gesture he allowed to you and you alone.

Once the outermost layer was off, and only fabric adorned his body, Din decided it was your turn. As you tried to rip off his shirt, he tenderly took your hands and lowered them, “Let me, love.”

Your eyes scanned his helmet, as if you desperately tried to read his expression though the beskar. 

“Let me take care of you, tonight,” he clarified in a soft voice, echoing your own words as he delicately stripped you of your clothing piece by piece before he ripped off his own clothes.

As hot as you felt, a chill still ran up your spine as the fresh air hit your skin as you allowed Din to strip you. He had seen you naked many times before, yet this time felt different. You were in your home, no music from the club played in the background, and he took his time with you. Times before, he seemed to be in a rush, or he was still riding the adrenaline from a bounty hunt, or you were on a timer.

This time, though, you both had all the time in the galaxy.

That same vulnerability was reflected in Din’s helmet; he had never before been stripped completely. Always needed to keep his guard up, he usually left most of his armor and clothing on, until now. But, just as you felt safe with him, that same security and trust beat in Din’s heart. And it fluttered in his chest as you gasped softly and your eyes poured over every inch of his skin, and a rush of heat pulsed through his veins at the wanton look of desire in your eyes. The way you licked your lips involuntarily made his cock twitch with need. 

Din scanned you over once you were both bare, and a fresh pulse of anger flooded his system as he saw the bacta patches on your skin. Carefully, he ghosted his fingers across the wounds, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” his voice was nothing more than a whisper.

Tears filled the corners of your eyes as you looked into his visor and this time you had no doubts what his expression looked like, “It’s not your responsibility, Din.”

His hand trailed up your body, pausing as he tickled the skin of your breasts and for a moment Din really soaked in how beautiful you were. When his hand reached your face, he wiped away the tear that threatened to fall from your eye, “Yes it is,” he said plainly yet with firm conviction. 

“Din?”

He let out a low growl as he took control and guided you back to your bed. Need guided his movements, yet Din was still careful not to hurt you as he lowered you onto your bed so that you laid on your back. Wide eyes looked up at him, nothing on his body but his helmet, and you gasped as you noticed how hard he was.

“Please Din,” you pleaded, “I need you…” You felt a rush of wetness in your pussy as he climbed over you without hesitation.

Din hovered over you as he rocked his cock along your folds, yet he was still careful not to hurt you or brush against your injuries. He groaned as he felt how wet you were, and his cock twitched between your bodies. Your name escaped his lips in a prayer as he shifted himself to caress your breast with one hand while staying over your body.

The moan you let out went right to his cock, and Din brushed across your nipple with his calloused fingers. Your breast was so warm and soft under his grip, and every time you cried out in pleasure, he inched him closer to losing control. But, Din fought to keep his composure. This wasn’t like times before. This wasn’t a desperate need for release. This was… something more.

“Fuck me,” you breathed, “Din…” you bucked your hips against his body, grinding yourself against him.

“Fuck…” he groaned as he felt your wetness on his length, “So beautiful… You’re so beautiful.”

You opened your eyes as you took in the sight before you. You couldn’t help the way your eyes roamed down to his chest as Din stayed overtop of you. It was then you noticed the way his arms strained on either side of you, his muscles tight and tense as he held himself back for fear of hurting you. But, the way he cared only made you more desperate, and this time it was your turn to caress his face.

Reaching up, you cupped his helmet, mirroring the way he touched you earlier, “I’m ok, Din,” you reassured him, “I’m ok because of you,” he heard the emotions in your voice as the room warmed, “You won’t hurt me. I want you… Need you…” you pleaded. 

He moaned your name as he dipped his head down and touched his helmeted forehead to yours once more, “I…”

Din interrupted himself when he slowly pushed into you, still careful not to hurt you as he filled you with his cock inch by inch. You broke the connection from his forehead as you dropped your head onto the pillow as you felt the familiar stretch. Instead of fucking you quickly, though, Din pushed into your slowly, taking his time until he bottomed out inside of you.

“So good… Feels so good…”

Neither of you were sure who spoke those words. Perhaps it was both of you overlapping at the same time.

“Din… Move please…” you pleaded as you ran your hand along his back before you slipped it under his helmet. Soft, thick hair met your hand at the nape of Din’s neck and you couldn’t help but give it a gentle tug.

Unable to deny you, Din groaned as he rocked back and slowly thrust forward again, filling you to the brim. You cried out in pleasure as he fucked you at a slow and steady pace. There was no rush, no need to pound into you. All you both wanted was to feel the other, and you clung to his shoulders as his cock hit that sweet spot inside you over and over again.

Din wasn’t just fucking you this time. He was making love to you. And it was everything you ever thought it would be. Tears filled the corners of your eyes again, but they weren’t tears of sorrow. They were tears of joy, tears of elation, tears of emotions. A string of curses and praises flowed from both your lips as your warmth engulfed Din over and over again as he rocked into you.

“Fuck… Din… Yes…” you moaned as you dug your nails into his skin and wrapped your leg around him, desperate to keep him close, “You’re gonna make me cum…”

He growled as he fought off his own climax, “Show me how beautiful you look when you cum on my cock, cyare.” Din snaked a hand between your bodies and rubbed at your clit as he sped up his thrusts. 

Without the music of the club to fill the room, Din was able to hear the wet sounds of your pussy with every thrust. And it turned him on unlike anything else before. He growled softly as the need to send you over the edge fully overwhelmed him. At that moment, nothing else in the galaxy mattered: only you. 

“Din…” you cried out as he pushed you over the edge. Your entire body trembled as you came hard, your inner muscles squeezing his cock as you rode out your climax. 

“Fuck,” Din growled your name as your orgasm triggered his own as he came deep inside you, spilling himself into your body and filling you up even more. 

Just as Din was about to collapse onto your body, he stopped himself. The ecstasy of his climax took over all brain function for a moment. But, he caught himself and instead carefully pulled out of you and landed on your bed beside you. Right away, you rolled over and laid your head on his chest as you wrapped an arm around his waist. Together, the two of you came down from your highs, lost in the other’s arms.

Your eyes stayed closed as you peppered soft kisses on Din’s chest and listened to the pounding of his heartbeat. A warm smile lit up your face as you felt his hands gently stroke your back comfortingly, and you were aware of how careful he was to avoid any of your injuries. 

“Din…” you waited for him to hum in response, “Thank you,” you whispered.

His breath hitched in his throat, “You never have to thank me, mesh’la,” Din replied, “I’ll always keep you safe.”

You trembled as his words went right to your heart. You stayed in the comfortable silence for several moments before you spoke again, “Hey Din…” your voice wavered as you traced random patterns on his bare chest. You felt him tighten his grip on you and you summoned the courage to ask, “Do you think love is in the stars for either of us? Do you think our lives would allow that?”

Din was silent for a time, and you knew he was choosing his words; he knew exactly what you meant by asking that, “Probably not,” he answered honestly, “But,” he interrupted your heavy sigh, “That doesn’t stop me… or you…” You’re stronger than you know…

He felt the way your entire body relaxed in his grip and he knew you understood the meaning behind his words. The truth was, he would do anything to protect you, to keep you safe. It didn’t matter who it was, Din wouldn’t hesitate to plunge his vibroblade into the chest of anyone who would dare harm you…  

As you laid in his arms, Din lifted his helmet for the second time that night and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. The contented sigh you let out told him you were still awake, and you felt it. He smiled against your scalp, another gesture he saved only for you, before he lowered the helmet and settled in your bed.

When the sun rose, the two of you could face what lay ahead. But for now Din just savored the feeling of your body safe and warm in his arms. And while the words themselves remained unspoken, the feelings were there. And he was sure you heard them loud and clear: 

I love you, cyar’ika…  

[ann-atar]

A few more observations from ep. 7:

!!!spoilers!!!

Angbang folks we're living well. I'll be chanting for a flashback to the days of "pain became a game" at some point next season.

Celebrimbor's horror when he realized the "mithril ore" was Sauron's pitch black blood. "What is this?" What is this stuff, Annatar, that's all over every surface, on my hands, and in my hair? I put mithril ore in my coffee this morning, did I drink your blood? (This is great insight into the wraith phenomena and the rings' effects on Men but fuuuccck.)

The pattern, the cycle. Sauron's illusion can only mimic life, and he's trapped in the cycle of abuser and abused. Does he get it? He's choking on it but doesn't quite understand what's caught in his throat, so to speak.

Mirdania's horrifying, tragic end. Another thing I didn't see coming! I love it when shows surprise me. Once disembodied she'll be back in Mandos' Halls, and she'll eventually be reunited with Celebrimbor in Aman.

Gil-galad looks fabulous in armor. Now he needs a floppy asymmetrical haircut like Elrond's. Benjamin Walker is such a good-looking man, let's style him up! (Yes I'm shallow.)

Galadriel is drawing strength from three people in this ep: Elrond, Celebrimbor(!!!), and Adar. She's beginning to see Adar as a reflection of what could be if she ever gives in to what I'm calling the Sauron-effect: Adar is ruined and corrupted, so obsessed it might kill him and enslave the Uruk again; Celebrimbor is the other side to that, someone who broke free but is still broken, he turned back toward the light and now he has turned around to face the consequences.

Or maybe four people: that scene with Arondir got me good.

I wrote this post about Adar and the possible implications of using Nenya yesterday, @baddybaddyadardaddy wrote this amazing post about the idea that final confrontation this season might be a three-person fight, and when I watched the ep again the way they frame Adar as being caught between darkness and light was so apparent. Crossing my fingers for this because damn, that would be some fine storytelling.

Poor Durin. And Elrond waiting for him on the battlefield was just so awful. I really hope Durin can resist the call of the rings but this confrontation with this father will make him emotionally vulnerable. BUT if he is tempted to put on his father's ring I firmly believe that Disa will chop off his hand. They better not do ANYTHING to Disa; I'm really enjoying Rings but if they use Disa's life to make Durin susceptible to Sauron's influence I might drop it like a hot rock, just saying.

[lokidjarin-7567]

Day 11: Public

The Mandalorian x you

Contents: drabble, fem!reader x The Mandalorian, not as smutty as I wanted this chapter to be but still fun, public (duh), the mask stays on

W/C: 750

Not my fav, but I like writing possessive Mando so here :)

Kinktober Masterlist | General Masterlist | AO3

The hand on your thigh was slowly climbing higher. You glanced at the Mandalorian next you for any clue as to what he wanted to happen next, but he was unreadable. As per fucking usual.

You’d never truly been able to work out what your companion was feeling. Sometimes, when he was especially stressed or angry, his body language gave it away. And you had learnt to read his tone of voice more or less, knowing what intonation meant that he was pleased, or frustrated, or horny. Stars, the way he spoke when he wanted you… it put you in the mood instantly.

You’d been travelling with him for over a year and you still hadn’t completely gotten used the mask. That you couldn’t see what he looked like, couldn’t gauge his reactions or see his smile, couldn’t kiss him… It was frustrating sometimes, especially in the heat of the moment when all you wanted was his lips on yours, but you respected his beliefs. If this was what he had to do, then this is how it was.

Better to have some of him than all of anyone else.

He was a perfect fit - in more ways than just physical. His calm soothed your chaos, his careful nature lulled your reckless one, his strength complemented your kindness.

And now… his patience was showing. The way his gloved fingers inched up your leg so slowly, caressing your thigh with minuscule strokes that had you squirming in the booth at the back of the cantina where you had settled.

“How was your food?” He drawled in that low, sensual tone of his that sent a purr of heat straight to your core.

“It was really good.” You managed to mutter, hand still travelling upwards as you gently pushed your plate away from you on the table. It wasn’t until the waiter turned and started to move towards you that he sped up a little, the leather of his glove ghosted against your clothed core, and you stifled a moan as the sudden stimulation.

“Mando…” you hissed through grit teeth as the waiter got closer, but he ignored you, pressing a fraction harder and you bit your lip, blushing red as he finally reached the table.

“How was everything today?” He asked, smiling widely and grabbing your plate.

“It was lovely, thank you.” You managed to choke out relatively normally, as he continued to apply pressure on your sensitive bud.

“Wonderful, can I get you folks anything else?” You started to mutter that you were fine, wanting nothing more than to do back to the ship, and let him do what he does best, but Mando interrupted.

“One more glass of Spotchka, please.”

“Coming right up.”

As he left, you nudged him, frustrated, and he just pressed his thumb across your cunt in response, earning a soft moan that you couldn’t quite bite back in time.

“Stars, Mando, I thought you wanted to…”

“I do.” He muttered calmly, fingers actively circling your clit now, and you ground into them, trying to chase that feeling you knew damn well he was capable of giving you. “I just want to make you suffer here a little longer.” You huffed.

“That’s fucking cruel.” He chuckled, continuing his infuriating pace.

“I just want them to know who you belong to. The waiter that keeps flirting with you. The couple that keeps glancing over at that table nearby. They need to know you’re mine.” He practically growled the last part, and you nodded in agreement just as the waiter brought over your drink.

“Thank… you.” You stuttered, in a way you hoped wouldn’t give you away, coughing straight afterwards to try and disguise your stumble as a sore throat. You think it might it have worked, as he didn’t show any signs of awkwardness, but Mando seemed to disagree, a smile leaking into his tone.

“Good job sweetheart. Let them know you’re not available…”

“Yes, I’m all yours, baby…”

“Say it again.” He growled. You were pressed against the wall, Mando buried deep inside you, so desperate you didn’t even close the door to the ship.

“All… mhm fuck… yours.” His hand found your chin, gripping tight and holding your face level with his mask. You grinned, angling your hips up a little to give him even more purchase.

“Atta girl, that’s it… Let me remind you why you’re mine…”

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

A Fresh Start [3]

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: use of reader’s fake name, reader is on the run from her past, remember?, self-doubt, i think that’s it🤷🏻‍♀️

Word Count: 4,045

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.

Chapter #03: MARSHAL DADDY

Chapter Summary: It’s difficult to eat dinner with someone who wears a helmet.

  “The greatest act of courage is to be & own all that you are. Without apology. Without excuses & without any masks to cover the truth of who you truly are.” ⏤Unknown

They say it takes three days to build a habit. Three days of an activity then your body and brain begin to crave that routine. You found that to be true, and by the fourth day of living and working for Nevarro's Mandalorian Marshal you were mostly comfortable. You had a schedule at least. In the mornings, you’d get Grogu up and start on breakfast while Mando got ready for work. Like you assumed, Grogu slept in Mando’s bedroom. There was a hammock style set up in a corner of the room surrounded by plush toys, animals, and thick blankets⏤ like a little nest. Then the Marshal would go to work and you’d spend the day with Grogu. Doing light chores around the house when able. Mando would be back from work before the sun went down and you’d have dinner ready for them. If that were all that was involved you’d consider yourself a pro already.

However, like most things in life, it wasn’t quite that simple.

Dinner time still felt rather awkward and you weren’t sure what to do with that. Mando didn’t plan on taking his helmet off around you, information you had gathered not been told, and Grogu was accustomed to seeing his father’s face in the evening. The first night you stayed in the house, you took dinner to your room to eat with the excuse of having to unpack. That’s where you hid until the house grew quiet because you were terrified of stepping out of your room and accidentally seeing Mando’s face. You weren’t sure the logistics of it all, but obviously the stories about Mandalorians not showing their face to the public were true and you’d feel awful if you screwed that up for him.

The next few nights you tried a similar tactic, but you could tell Mando felt odd about the entire scenario. Maybe he felt bad that you were hiding away in a house you technically lived in, or maybe he hated the idea of someone lurking in a back bedroom, but it was obvious this was not going to work. So, you made the excuse that Nima wanted to hang out, and on your third and fourth night you met your friend at the local cantina to drink. Mando preferred to do Grogu’s night time routine anyways so he got the kid into bed. You just had to be there in case he got called into work⏤ which hadn’t actually happened yet.

The point was, your system needed adjusting, but you were still in your first week of work. Obviously there would be issues and hopefully time would be the solution to it all.

“So, is this just where you’re going to live from 7:30 to 9:30 every single day?” Nima asked.

You rolled your eyes. “Of course not.” As a side note, you mumbled under your breath. “I can’t afford to drink that much.” Mando and you had agreed on a more than fair wage, but your salary wasn’t going to go far if you kept blowing it on drinks with Nima. “We’re still figuring things out.”

“Has he offered any solution?”

“I don’t want him to offer. I want to figure it out myself.” You argued. “That’s his  home. I’m intruding. I hate that he feels uncomfortable in any way.”

Nima pointed her glass toward you. “Counter argument. It’s your home now. He’s  paying  you to be there. You shouldn’t feel uncomfortable either.”

“It’s⏤It’s more complicated than that.” You said. “It’s not like he’s doing this just to do it. The helmet thing is part of being Mandalorian, I think, and the only time he is free of that is with his son in the evening. I don’t want to take that from them.”

“Cara says it’s not all Mandalorians.”

“What?”

“Apparently there are different kinds, or something, and they have different beliefs.” Nima replied. The two of you were sitting at the bar on stools you had claimed to be your own this week. Behind you the cantina was buzzing with life and music. This was a popular place to be in the evening, you weren’t alone in your routine. “The Marshal is part of the group that can never reveal their face to any living thing. But he shows it to his son so maybe that’s the exception.” Nima clapped you on the shoulder. “That’s it! You just gotta be adopted by him!”

“I don’t want to be adopted by the Mandalorian.” You snorted and lifted your drink to your lips.

“Why? You can call Marshal Mando ‘daddy’. Mmm, Marshal Daddy.”

You inhaled your sip of spotchka at her words and began to choke. Nima laughed in glee while you tried to cough up the blue, burning liquid that now resided in your lungs. When it was clear enough for you to speak, you glared at her. “Seriously?”

“He’s hardly my type, but there must be something about him considering how worked up the single women in this town get over him.” Nima shrugged. You chuckled in response. She wasn’t wrong. On your first day of being a nanny, Torlee had given you rather a cold greeting and she hadn’t been the only one. There were a handful of random people around town who would give you the stink eye as if you had stolen something from them. “So? What is it? You date guys. Tell me the secret.”

To be honest, you weren’t entirely sure. You had your guesses. There was something about the strong silent type that tended to strike up intrigue, and Mando was nothing if not strong and silent. It was really cute hearing stories about how serious and deadly he could be as Marshal and then watch him hold full conversations with his son at home. Duality of man, you supposed. Then there was his figure alone. Somehow, it left nothing to the imagination while also leaving plenty for a person to imagine. You, and everyone else it seemed, had no idea what he looked like under all that armor, but by the Maker was his shoulder to waist ratio godly.

Personally, you hadn’t caught the bug for him. Probably because, despite knowing he was human, you couldn’t stop picturing large green ears tucked into the helmet. As if Grogu had taken after him somehow. It was ridiculous, and you knew Grogu was adopted, but if imagining an aged up Grogu under the suit kept you from drooling over the man then it was for the best. He was your boss after all.

“I don’t know the secret.” You finally replied. “But if I figure it out, you’ll be the first to know.”

Grogu’s eyes had already fluttered close, soft snores drifting from him, but Din couldn’t bring himself to set the child down yet. Peli told him dozens of times that it wasn’t good to let the kid fall asleep in his arms. Children were supposed to learn how to fall asleep on their own. Din figured Grogu could learn that skill later in life. Letting his son fall asleep in his arms was quite possibly his favorite part of their night time routine. It was when Din felt the most at peace.

Din continued to lightly rock Grogu as he stood in place by his bed. A soft buzzing sound had him reaching over to his dresser to pick up the communicator that rested there.

  ‘I’m home! Are you in your room?’

‘Yes.’  Din sent back. Seconds later he could hear the front door lightly click shut followed by quiet footsteps. They passed his bedroom, and Din stared at his communicator a second longer before typing,  ‘Good night.’

  ‘Good night to you too. Hope Grogu didn’t give you too much trouble.’

Din struggled with a response before deciding to just set his communicator aside. You were hardly a stranger at this point, but he still found himself at a loss of words. It didn’t help that the two of you were caught in quite the dilemma. Din didn’t know how to fix this problem. Well, he did, but it wasn't a step he was prepared to take.

The easiest solution was to take his helmet off and show you his face. Easiest in the sense that it was the least complicated, but in terms of how ready he was to handle that⏤ it may be the most difficult solution. Technically speaking, he wasn’t a Mandalorian right now. Apostate. That’s what the Armorer had called him, and he could hardly argue otherwise. Din had taken his armor off with Mayfield in order to find where Moff Gideon had taken his son. Mayfield had seen his face. Then, when he thought he was saying good-bye to his son, he removed his helmet once more. Grogu saw his face. Cara saw his face. Fennec and Bo-Katan. At that point, he knew he should never place it on his head again, but he had.

When the Armor asked him if any living thing had seen his face, he knew what the outcome would be. His creed had been lost. Boba had spoken to him for a long time about the Children of the Watch and about the reputation his helmet carried. According to the older man, there was more to the creed than hiding his face. Boba Fett was someone he respected greatly. His opinion on the matter held great weight, but in the quiet of the night Din still found himself doubtful. The Armorer agreed to redemption after all. If Din returned to Mandalore, bathed in the Living Waters, then he would be Apostate no longer. That had been his plan until Karga offered him a home and job here.

Din's plan had been to turn it down, carry forth with his mission to redeem himself, but upon further thought he didn't want to take Grogu to a potentially poisoned planet. Maybe one day, but for now he wanted peace. He wanted a life with his son, and Nevarro gave that to him. As he hadn’t redeemed himself yet, as he was still Apostate, that meant Din was free to take his helmet off right now. Technically speaking he had no creed to uphold, not until he went on his journey to Mandalore, but he still hadn't been able to bring himself to reveal his face to anyone but his foundling. He told himself it was because he didn't want to break his creed any further than he already had before finding redemption, but sometimes he wondered if that was all.

He spent a majority of his life wearing this helmet. It was a shield that separated him from the rest of the world. To be honest, Din didn't know how to go about his day with his face out for any stranger to see. He never wanted to admit to fear, but this gripped his soul. Up until now, he was able to push the thoughts aside and just live his life with Grogu by his side. It wasn't until you came into the equation that things changed. Now, he was forced to confront these thoughts.

What were his options? Show his face to you or fire you? The latter wasn't a feasible. Grogu had already grown attached, and Din would be lying if he said he hadn’t as well. Having you around was a relief. It had taken a weight off his shoulders he hadn’t been aware he was carrying. Hiring you had been a very, very good decision. Now, he just had to figure out how to keep you.

At the end of the day, he did not regret the choices he made regarding his helmet. If Din had to relive those days he would make the same choices over and over and over again. In his entire life, he never thought he’d find something worth more to him than his creed, but he had been proven wrong. Grogu was more important. His son. Din would reveal his face to the world twelve times over if it meant he could keep Grogu safe. He’d suffer the Armorer’s disdain and be exiled repeatedly if it meant he got to keep his son by his side⏤ help raise him and watch him grow.

Din did not regret the position he found himself in, but he did not know where to go from here. He couldn't expect you to hide away when the sun went down every day. DIn could argue that showing you his face would be for Grogu's benefit. Revealing his full identity to you was for his son. That's a sacrifice he's always been able to make. Still, he struggled.

With a soft sigh, Din set Grogu into his hammock and tucked him in. He snuggled deeper into the space and Din smiled at the action.

Solving this issue would take just one minute of decisive action. Don't think, just act. He was good at that. Din ran a hand through his hair, probably only making it messier, and readjusted his plain shirt and sweatpants. He didn’t have a mirror in his room, wasn’t used to needing one, and for the first time he felt annoyed by that fact. Settling in his resolve, Din stepped out of his room and quietly treaded to your closed door.

Din went to knock, but he found his hand hovering over the wood, 'What if she doesn't like the way I look?'

The thought was involuntary. It shoved to the forefront of his mind without any kind of warning. What? Where had that even come from? His eyebrows furrowed in confusion. That shouldn’t be something he cared about, yet now he couldn't shake it free.

He found you attractive. It was one the first thing he noticed, but he didn’t pay it any attention. His dating history was by no means extensive, but he was still a red blooded man. Din was just used to putting that kind of information to the back of his mind. Especially since Grogu became a part of his life. He hadn’t pursued anyone since he found Grogu. It just hadn’t been a priority to him.

Granted, you were difficult to ignore. He thought you were beautiful, and he thought it was cute that you tended to ramble anytime you got nervous. Plus, watching you with his son was addicting. Din could watch you play and chat with Grogu all day long. That had to be it. He was just hypnotized by the domestic bliss you carried with you. There was nothing more. If he was better at convincing himself of that then this would probably be easier. Din planned to knock, he wanted to, but despite logically working through the issue the question still remained and he found himself embarrassed that he had such a silly concern.

The sound of muffled steps alerted him that a decision needed to be made. His body was moving on its own accord, and he backpedaled silently to slip back in his room. Seconds later he heard your door open followed by the bathroom door opening and closing. Din rubbed his face and shuffled over to his bed to fall into it.

Tomorrow. He’d try again tomorrow.

As your alarm began to blare, you blindly reached out to your nightstand table to silence it. You laid in bed a moment longer, stretching each limb, then sat up with a groan. Around this time in the morning, Mando was getting ready for work and Grogu would be in the process of waking up. You climbed out of bed and wandered out to the bathroom to use the toilet and quickly brush your teeth. Still dressed in your pajamas, you peered into Mando’s bedroom assuming that since the door was open it would be safe.

“Grogu?” You whispered and tiptoed in. Typically, you’d find him chilling in his hammock waiting for you to scoop him up. He was always the cutest and most cuddly when you picked him up in the mornings. Today though, you were greeted with an empty bed. “Huh.”

You turned out of the room and walked down the hall. You could hear Mando softly talking to Grogu, and Grogu’s giggly, mostly nonsensical responses drifting toward you. There was something odd about Mando’s voice, something your mind couldn’t place, but in your morning haze you didn't think to stop and puzzle out why. You stepped through the archway into the kitchen just to freeze.

Standing at the stove was a man.

His back was to you and you could see Grogu’s ears from where he was being held in one arm. He wore a plain gray t-shirt that was thin enough to see the outline of his shoulder blades and back. His sweatpants hung on his hips and that shoulder to waist ratio was undeniably familiar. This was the Mandalorian. You were staring at Mando. His helmet was resting on the counter by the stove. Soft, messy brown hair covered his head. The ends looked like they naturally curled, and you couldn’t tear your eyes away from the tan skin rising up from his collar to where his hair met the nape of his neck.

You were so in awe that it took a second to realize the situation you were currently in.

This was Mando.

You were staring at Mando.

Helmet less Mando.

You couldn’t hold back the gasp that left you, and you quickly shut your eyes⏤ slapping your hands over them as well for good measure.

"Soran?" You heard Mando call out to you in surprise, but you spun around to leave the room. Unfortunately, in your panic, you misjudged where you stood and instead of rushing through the archway you ran straight into the wall. You yelped in pain and since you were too afraid to pull your hands from your eyes to catch yourself you ended up falling on your ass instead. You grunted, and Mando cursed. “Dank farrik.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” You blurted. “I am so sorry, Mando.”

“Are you alright?” Mando’s voice was altered once more to the tone you were most familiar with as it came through the voice modulator. "Soran?" He called out again in concern, and you could feel him kneeling near you. "Are you-"

You shook your head and didn't let him speak. “Mando, I am so sorry. I swear to the Maker, I didn’t see you.” You paused. “That’s sort of a lie. I saw the back of your head. You have brown hair. Really nice brown hair, but definitely brown hair. I swear though, I didn’t see your face.”

“You did nothing wrong.” Mando said. “You can open your eyes.”

His voice sounded like he was wearing his helmet, but you still found yourself nervous. You peeked through one eye between your fingers, hesitant, but when you saw silver beskar you breathed out a sigh of relief. Mando was knelt beside you, one hand resting on the archway you ran into, so his entire frame hovered over you. It still felt odd to see his bare arms, and now with him facing you it was clear to see all of his neck and his collarbones. You were gawking. You needed to stop. Luckily, Grogu was standing in front of you with his hands held over his closed eyes much like you had just been sitting. You chuckled and at the sound he peeked through his own hands.

Finally, you lifted your gaze back to the t-shaped visor, “Mando⏤”

He held up a hand, stopping your flow of words, and spoke firmly, “Are you injured?”

“Not physically. My pride hurts a decent bit.” You admitted. Mando let out a breathy laugh and the sound caught you off guard. You really hadn’t spent all that much time with him let alone spent the time making him laugh. You were mostly with Grogu. “I am sorry though.”

“If anyone is at fault, it’s me. I forgot to warn you I wasn’t working today, and I’m the one out in the open without my helmet.”

“Yeah, but this is your house. You have every right to wander all over this place, helmet less or not.” You replied. Just last night you had been talking to Nima about this issue, and it was growing more problematic by the second. You sighed. “Maybe… Maybe I should move out?” Mando stiffened and slowly tilted his head at you. “I can get a place in town, real close, and just come here in the morning before you leave for work and then leave when you get back.” Grogu crawled into your lap cooing and you wrapped your arms around him. “If you ever need me in the night you can just message me and I’ll run right over.”

Mando didn’t immediately reply and you nervously began to play with Grogu’s ears. The kid giggled and the sound was almost a good distraction for the tension in the air. Finally, Mando spoke up, “Are you... comfortable living here?”

“Am I⏤? Of course!” You said. “You’ve been so welcoming and my room is great and the job is perfect⏤” You shook your head. “You’ve been wonderful, Mando. I just don’t wanna make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m not uncomfortable." He replied in a tone that settled the matter. "And if you’re not uncomfortable then,” Mando shrugged, “I think you should stay.”

There was a warmth in his voice that brought a broad smile to your face. Grogu bounced in your lap and he held his hands up toward your face. You leaned in so he could pat your cheeks. “Okay. Besides, how could I stand to be so far away from my bestest buddy?”

Mando pushed to stand and then he held out a hand for you to take. The urge to stare and take in every inch of it was weirdly tempting, but you let him pull you up to your feet. Mando cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m actually glad you’re up. Grogu wants something for breakfast, and he’s unhappy with all my attempts.”

“Egg.” Grogu blurted, staring up at you. “Egg. Egg. Egg.”

“He sounds like a Jawa.” Mando mumbled. “I made eggs, but he didn’t want them.”

You glanced over at the stove where a frying pan sat by a carton of eggs. Grogu’s high chair had a small bowl of untouched scrambled eggs. You chuckled. “I think he wants an omelet. I made it for him yesterday and he loved it.”

“Egg!” Grogu agreed.

“Here, I can make it.” You held Grogu out to Mando who took him. The Mandalorian murmured something to his son in Mando’a that you didn’t catch. It reminded you that you meant to talk to Mando about this. Grogu used a handful of words in that language, but because you didn’t recognize them it made communication difficult. You had been working with Grogu on words in Basic, and you’d love to add some Mando’a vocabulary to it. You just needed to know it first. You went to the fridge to pull out cheese and a few vegetables that you knew Grogu liked.

Mando stood behind you, leaning against the kitchen counter top with his son in his arms, and you glanced over your shoulder only once to admire him.

“What?” He questioned.

“Sorry. It’s just so weird to see you out of the suit of armor.” You chuckled.

“Bad weird?”

“No,” You replied quickly, “It just ruins the mental image I had of green skin and big ears.”

Mando laughed again, “Sorry to disappoint.”

“I’ll just have to learn to live with it, I suppose.”

The kitchen was filled with Grogu laughing as his dad tickled him and the sizzling of breakfast. Typically, you were here alone wrestling the green bean while trying to make him food. It wasn’t overly difficult and you still enjoyed it, but there was something kind of calming from having Mando here as well and that caught you off guard. The lack of his full suit of armor might play a role in that. In the early morning light wearing his pajamas and playing with his son, he looked so… human.

“I was wondering, do you, uh, have plans today?”

You flipped the omelets in the skillet then looked over at Mando with a grin. “Well, until five minutes ago I thought I was on Grogu duty.”

“Right.” Mando blurted. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you sooner⏤”

“I’m joking, Mando. What were you thinking?”

He paused briefly, “Well, there’s a traveling market here today. Local vendors and some from neighboring worlds." Mando said. “I can show you around. If you're interested that is."

You finished with both omelets and went to grab a set of plates. “I’d love that!” You set both plates on the counter by Mando. “Sounds fun. Here. You boys have breakfast and I’ll go get ready for the day. Yeah?” Mando pushed off the counter and pointed to the omelet with a slight tilt of his head. You nodded. “It’s yours.” You point to his, then his son’s omelet. “You, Grogu.”

“What about you?”

“I’m not a big breakfast eater, don’t worry.” You shrugged. “Take your time too, don’t rush. I’m gonna take a shower this morning so you and Grogu can enjoy.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

Excited for the day, you hurried upstairs to get ready. You were interested to see the small marketplace become more lively with outside visitors. You were sure the lively city was even more bright today. Plus, this would be an opportunity to get to know your boss a little bit better. Maybe if the two of you were a little more comfortable with one another then hiding from him in your room during dinner time would be a bit less awkward.

[djarins-cyare]

WIP Wednesday

Well, the Roll-A-Trope Writing Challenge deadline is fast approaching, and I’m 6 chapters and 18k words into what has turned into something waaay lengthier than it started out! So sorry, teacher, I think I’m gonna need an extension on my homework deadline.

Meanwhile, throughout September, I’ve been tagged in various WIP posts by @the-mandawhor1an, @burntheedges, @nerdieforpedro, and @for-a-longlongtime (thank you all 💚), so under the cut, you’ll find a little midweek offering of my now somewhat out-of-control Secret Relationship trope fic...

***If you haven’t already, you may wish to read my first WIP post before the one below, as this one references the earlier one.***

“He raised you?” Mando sounds incredulous. “Why is that weird?” He sighs. “It’s not. Well… it might be. Sleeping with the guy’s niece was one thing, but you’re like his kid—” “Stop there,” you demand with steely ferocity. “First, I am not a kid in any sense. I don’t need to see your face to guess you’re not that much older than me. And, like you, I’m an adult and can make my own decisions, so no kid references, please. Second, whatever his reasons are for keeping us apart, they don’t matter because once I leave here, none of this ever happened. Right?” Your mini tirade is met first with silence, then a chuckle. “Has anyone ever told you you’re bossy?” His amusement diffuses your mock indignation, and you smirk. “You kind of have to be when you grow up here. You don’t think you can handle me?” You shift a little closer to him on the couch. “Oh, mesh’la,” he drawls, his voice casual but with a fiendish edge. “I’m a bounty hunter by trade. You think I haven’t dealt with people far wilder than you?” Kriff, yeah. There’s that confidence you saw last night when he indirectly requested an orgasm before you went to bed. Sure, it’s nice to know that there’s a sweet and awkward guy beneath the warrior exterior, but this is what you find attractive in him. The confident, intimidating hunter. You visibly shiver and press your thighs together at the thought, and he chuckles darkly. Yeah, you just gave away your desires. Still, he doesn’t move yet. You feel like he’s waiting to pounce… emphasis on the waiting. “Okay then, Mandalorian,” you goad with your head held high, almost daring him. “Show me what you’ve got.” There’s a pause as he tilts his helmet slightly, and it lingers for long enough that you start to wonder whether you said the wrong thing. You were just keeping up the banter. Why has he suddenly gone silent? A few more moments pass, and your second-guessing becomes mildly frantic. But as you bite your lip and furrow your brow, Mando releases a deep hum and rumbles, “Mm… better.” Suddenly, you realise. This is not a contest of wits, and he’s not in the mood for sexual banter. He wants to be in charge this time. Well, you were in control last night, and he did say he would pay you back. Plus, he’s spent a whole cycle being unable to control anything due to his injuries. It’s becoming clearer how he sees this going. And you’re very much on board. Now that you understand, you try again. Tucking your chin down, you look up at him through your lashes and soften your tone. “Please, Mando…” “Mm, good girl,” he praises, and heat sparks to life in both your chest and your cunt. “Please, what? What do you want?” You think back to the dialogue that led to the blow job. “Please, will you make me come?” At last, he moves, reaching for your lower thigh and running his palm slowly upward, leaving flames in its wake. “My helmet stays on at all times, non-negotiable. If you touch it, this stops, understand?” “I understand.” Apparently, lifting it to help him drink last night was a one-time deal. “Good. Then, yes, cyar’ika, I’ll make you come.”

Tagging the folks who showed interest in my first snippet as well as those on my permanent tag list. Those of you who write/create and would like to share something with the class, please feel free to do any type of WIP post (Wednesday, weekend, weekday, whatever) if the mood takes you, no pressure 💚

@5oh5 @604to647 @almostfoxglove @ashleyfilm @burntheedges

@captainredspade @cheekychaos28 @chiyo13 @cw80831 @dindjarins-big-tiddy-goth-gf

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@fhatbhabiee @fromthedeskoftheraven @grogusmum @here-briefly @hillarymurray4

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@wrathkitty @yopossum @you-give-aspirin-headaches

[lya-dustin]

The Stone Table

or a rewrite of a one shot i did when rings of power first came out in my now deleted lotr blog erinti-of-the-maiar

Gil-galad x Erinti(oc)

could be read as part of both The Moon Lives in the Lining of Your Skin(silmarilion version)and I Sang of Leaves of Gold(Rings of power verision

inspired by this post made by @queenmeriadoc

summary: Gil-galad’s Maia wife wants a baby but his schedule is too busy so she uses their bond to spice things up during a feast to get what she wants.

cw: sex, telepathic dirty talk, cunnilingus, p in v sex, breeding, table sex, breast play

Her husband has always been too serious.

He had been serious and sensible with a perpetually stern brow despite his youth when they first married. While Ereinion Gil-galad had never been wild, he has always been bold.

The burden of kingship weighs heavily on him as does a strange hint of evil growing in the air. He smiles less and less these days, rarely takes a day off and Erinti has found him too tired to seek pleasure as of late.

She aches for him, to feel him move within her and see his troubles melt away as he sows his seed into her womb.

The Maia wants a child, to have their feä join and create a life inside her that will become a babe in her arms for them to love and nurture for the rest of their days.

And that cannot happen if her husband refuses to fuck that baby into her. To have him be rough with her, to have him overpower her and fuck her until all of Lindon feels the effect of their orgasms.

It would soon be autumn, but no plant would die nor leaf fall if the High King were to take her bent over his desk, or against the wall or on the balcony like they did a while ago.

Gil-galad’s hand on his glass tightens as his wife’s desire is felt through their bond.

Elves can hold a strong bond to the point of feeling one live and die no matter the distance, a Maiar could even manipulate a person so long as there is an opening.

Erinti and her husband have a bond so strong she knows the Halls of Mandos wouldn’t stand a chance against it. Sometimes they do not even need to speak out loud, his thoughts and hers can be heard and even seen as clearly as if each other were part of their psyche.

She is half expecting him to ask her to stop and yet her husband does not. Instead, her stick in the mud husband matches her desire with his.

Despite the regal and rigid as stone aspect he has, Gil-galad has quite a filthy mind. And, of course, the stamina to tire his maiar wife.

Something he reminds her with a hidden smile as he drinks his wine. Wine he claims is not as fine as that nectar that flows from her womb.

A womb he will fill the moment the feast is cleared, or so he promises.

But it does not end there, no, he doesn’t allow her to concentrate on the things said by those speaking to her as he takes his revenge.

He likes the low cut of her dress, the swell of her bosom on display like that for him, the fact that she wore no shift, or any other undergarments, had not gone unnoticed by him.

The king wants to tease her over the clothes, to knead and brush his thumb over her sensitive nipples as he kissed his way down her fair neck and collarbone until he is tearing off the dress to free her body from its confines. He intended to lavish her perfect breasts and use his mouth and fingers to string out that beautiful melody she makes when she comes.

A good prelude for what he had planned after the feast is over. By the time she’s readied for him to breed her Erinti of the Flowers would be naked and exposed to the cool autumn air.

The stone table would suffice, stone does not grow roots and leaves when he fucks his queen on it. Their bed had become a living tree with great roots and thick foliage with how attentive her husband usually is.

This particular stone was of great strength, carved from deep inside the mountains of Eregion and able to withstand the might of an Ent if it is to be believed.

A maia in the throes of passion may test that myth. Erinti’s hands had broken many things when her control slipped, while her ability was to nurture the earth as a servant of Yavanna and Nessa, her strength could destroy towers and castles with ease.

Gil-galad prided himself in making her lose control and admire his handiwork after. Not all furniture survived after he and his Queen were done.

It would not end with the table; he wants to take under the stars like he did when they wed. To have her ride him as the stars frame her like the goddess she is. To have the heavens and the earth witness the creation of a second Lúthien Tinúviel.

Not a princess, she corrects, but a son, a prince whose name she has seen from the moment she first laid with Gil-Galad.

Finnellach, flame of hair and eye.

The feast is scarcely over when the king makes good on his promise.

The king wastes no time in picking her up and setting her at the edge of the table, hiking up her dress until she could feel his hardness pressing between the heavy robes separating it from her cunt, feel how their game and his victory have affected him.

If she was as wet as the Lhûn before the final course had begun, the Maia Queen was sure to drown her husband with the waters from her womb.

“Has your husband been remiss in his duties, Lothíriel?” he asks between kisses with his sharp eyes dark and voice dripping with arousal.

Lothíriel, maiden crowned with flowers. The name he gave her when they first met, the name she wears as his wife just as he is Rodnor to her and the only name he cries out in pleasure.

“Our bed has wilted from your neglect, Rodnor.” The maia locked her long legs at his waist and let her hands roam up his chest and breaking the gorget he was wearing and tossing it aside as if it were nothing. “The leaves have begun to change color, but you’d notice that if you didn’t come so late and leave so early each day. I had half a mind to file a petition and demand a private audience with his grace to fix the issue.”

“You should have, I would have remedied the issue right there on my throne.” The vivid memory of all those times they had defiled his throne had her as wet as the Lhûn. “Her grace shall be crowned with oak blooms before dawn tomorrow.”

There is no promise of him taking the day off tomorrow, but the maia will fix that before the night is over.

“I better be, or his grace will not be leaving our bed.” The red haired being struggled to contain her desperation for him and effortlessly tore his robe of him to leave him only in his breeches.

He was built like an ox, trained in the same weapon that killed his beloved sister and as darkness grew around them, ready for war.

The scars from the Wrath have long since faded, you would not be able to tell he is a seasoned warrior and commander from looks alone. His physical strength could almost match her own, something Erinti Lothíriel has always loved.

“I won’t leave it either way.” With a smile he tears her dress apart until it pools around her waist on the table, and he is free to kiss his way down her neck and collar to her chest.

Gil-galad loves her breasts, the way they fit perfectly in his hands and their rosy peaks stiffen even more in the autumn air after he’d taken each of them into his mouth. He doesn’t stop there, the high king pushed her gently down to lie on the stone table as he continued down to her cunt as her hands threaded themselves in his dark mane.

The first time he had done this, the maia had turned made the meadow bloom to its fullest and remain so despite summer turning to fall soon after. The other times had resurrected the oak trees their bed had been.

Now as he threw her long bare leg over his shoulder, they would see how the stone would fare against the Scion of Kings putting his mouth and fingers to better use.

He is not the stern king with the weight of the world bearing down on him when they make love. He is simply her husband, her lover who knows exactly how to make her lose control of this fair form she made to be with him.

Her hand gripping the rough edge of the table feels nothing of the discomfort the stone against her soft palm nor does the stone show any sign of crumbling in her hold. Who was to say what would happen when Gil-galad makes her come undone?

She tries to hold back, not an easy task when Gil-galad uses every trick he knows to have her unravel with pleasure.

As great a singer and orator her husband is, Erinti things tongue fucking may be his best talent. The first time he had pleasured her this way the ground had shaken in tandem to her first orgasm and the hold on his hand had resulted in a hard to explain injury.

Still the stone does not break when the crescendo comes to its grand finish. They may have to procure more of it now.

“It passed the first test, but can it pass the second?” Gil-galad wiped her spent from his chin with the torn fabric of her gown, it won’t be of use anymore either way.

His manhood needs little help in reaching full mast, but the sight of it with some seed at its tip has desperate to feel it inside her. To feel it hitting those places only Gil-galad knows as they fuck hard and loud in open air without a drop of shame.

It was far too difficult to stop people from taking notice of their rulers’ sexual habits when their queen’s moods affected the life around them. So difficult it no longer mortified them almost two thousand years after.

“Only one way to find out.” The Maia breathes hard from the peak he brought her to, leaned back on her hands and spread her legs wide for her husband waiting for him to plow into her until Elbereth herself feels as if she too has been fucked senseless.

“The way her grace behaves, one would think she was a courtesan of the Edain and not a holy being.” he snaked an arm around her waist as the other pulled her face to his.

“Perhaps this holy being likes to be worshipped differently.” The maia kissed her husband deeply, tasting herself in his mouth as she pulled him closer to her until he dropped the hand on her chin to guide himself into her.

The wholeness that comes with being with him like this is heavenly, their feä melds into each other’s own as their bodies join in ways forbidden to anyone else.

“Then I will make this table a second altar to worship you on, Lothíriel.” His voice is low with desire and groans as he begins to move within her. Slow and steady, savoring every contour of her perfect body and driving her slowly to madness.

She may be Maiar, but Valar, did she find sexual compatibility the best thing Ilúvatar could bless his creations with. Her womanhood fit him like a glove, or so he says.

Perfection even Valinor would envy, his thoughts fill her head as he goes deeper and harder and brings his deft fingers to her button as his mouth seeks out her breast.

Their lovemaking brings the much-needed release Gil-galad desperately needed. Too many troubles coming seemingly out of nowhere and the lack of respite to find the why of it.

He is not the stone king teetering on the edge of a burst vein in his cerebrum, he is the elf groaning his wife’s name as their lewd sounds and smells fill the air. Time passes by around them and yet nothing exists beyond the two of them and their bliss.

Gil-galad comes just as he brings her to a second climax, a beautiful melody ending with a kindling of a new life.

“The stone didn’t break.” The King of the Noldor is still catching his breath when they remember to see if his theory proved correct. “We shall need more of this stone.”

“The table at your war room will need replacement.” The Maia grins hoping to see how they break that great round table hewn from a weaker stone.

[tanoraqui]

continuation of this, though not necessarily immediate, and in fact precursor to this. If I write enough parts of the events of this night, eventually it'll coalesce into a coherent fic, right?

Fëanor slammed down the now-empty goblet of his latest rightfully earned apology drink, then narrowed his eyes suspiciously at his latest apologizee, across the table. His vision was wavering around the edges, after most of a bottle of this rich Maiaran vintage all on his own (the table overall was halfway through the third). But the day he was too drunk to glare suspiciously at his half-brother was the day he'd return to Mandos for a neighborly cup of tea.

"Why art thou being so nice to me?" Fëanor demanded. His diction was still crisp, though he could admit that his vocabulary was wavering across millennia.

Fingolfin, not a few cups in himself, rested his chin in his palms and stared back at him with cow-eyed contemplation.

"Am I being nice to you?" he asked philosophically.

"Never mind," Fëanor grumbled. "Now I want to punch you in the face again. Normalcy hast resumed."

"I guess I have been," Fingolfin continued musing as though Fëanor hadn’t spoken. He seemed to be looking straight through Fëanor's head, with those big grey eyes so frustratingly like their father's. "I suppose it's just difficult to be as harsh as I used to be, when I feel like I understand you so well, brother."

Fëanor recoiled upright.

"You know nothing of me." he hissed. (Though he did feel a bit like a petulant half-century to speak so.)

"Don't I?"

Fingolfin looked at him now, with terrible sympathy.

"Did you not hold yourself responsible for the deaths of thousands, including countless loved ones—countless save that you could never not keep count—indeed, do you not still, as you've admitted this night? Did you not race forward alone to challenge the Enemy, confident if not in your victory, then at least in that nobody else had as much of a chance, and if you could end even just your own suffering, it would be worth it? Did you not die in an apogee of burning wrath and utter, utterly helpless despair?"

Carried forward the strength of Fingolfin’s speech, by the currents of wine and truth both flowing so richly this night, and by his own damn vow to do better this time, Fëanor muttered, "I deny none of it."

Fingolfin opened one hand, palm up, to say, Well? Look at me. He raised his chin, for once not contrarily proud, just casting into the lamplight the scars of a crushed neck, which lingered even in this re-incarnated form.

Fëanor reached forward and shoved the third wine bottle toward him, as well-earned tribute and because remembering one's death wasn't pleasant for anyone. Especially when one did so just to disarm querulous kin.

Arafinwë and the girls, thank Eru, were off on the sofa pretending to be absorbed by a new picture of whatever iteration of great-grandchild Arafinwë's eldest's descendants had spawned now. Habit (and the need for a change of topic) made Fëanor think sourly of how he'd lost that contest, too—though, to be perfectly honest, he'd lost that one when the Trees still shone, when exactly one of his seven children showed any interest in having their own.

Still, sour it was. He swiped the remedy of the evening back from Fingolfin and pour himself another goblet, burning and sweet.