#mando x GN!reader

[corazondebeskar-reads]

I'll take care of you

dark!Din Djarin x gn!reader

originally for Febuwhump 2024 Day 1 - helpless | Febuwhump masterlist

words: 882

summary: Din takes care of you after a head injury leaves you helpless.

warnings: dark, dark!Din, gaslighting, graphic descriptions of injury, restraints, manipulation, violence, no y/n, reader has hair of unspecified length and no other description

dividers by @saradika-graphics

It’s blurry. Everything, that is. You try to reach to rub your eyes, but the cuff jerks you still. 

Same shit, different day. You wish you’d start remembering faster when you wake up. 

The mornings you do wake up, that is. 

You know you’re missing days. It’s hard, with how the room spins, to keep track of anything. 

“Good morning, cyar’ika. How do you feel?” says the smooth baritone, like fresh caramel dripping onto a sundae. It’s a warm comfort.

Until it grows cold and hardens, that is. His hand shoots out and grips your jaw. “What have I said about answering me when I speak to you?” 

He’s quick to anger today. So you’ll likely be bed-bound again. 

“Sorry, cyare,” you mumble. Using the pet name placates him, and his hand relaxes but doesn’t leave you, gloved thumb brushing your bottom lip. 

You don’t even know if he’s flesh and bone. His cock would lead you to believe so, but the rest of him is cold metal, and they make good synthetics nowadays. 

You don’t want to ask. It’s something you’re sure you should know, and sometimes, the things you’ve forgotten upset him. You guess you’d be upset, too, if your spouse forgot you. 

“It’s okay. I know it’s hard when you’re still all scrambled.” He moves like he’s going to ruffle your hair, but all you feel is the grinding, bruising pain as his hand grips and jostles your head. 

He’s rustling with the restraints, and you try to tamp down any and all emotion. He says it’s okay, that it’s normal for you to have intense feelings, all things considered. 

But sometimes you seem to have the wrong feeling, and he doesn’t like that very much. 

Once your wrists are unhooked, he helps you to stand on trembling legs. Walking makes you so dizzy, so he always makes sure he can support you. 

That’s one thing you can’t deny despite the pain and forgetfulness. He’s so attentive while you’re helpless. He never leaves you to struggle. It’s obvious he’s a good husband—maybe even the romantic type, doting and considerate. 

He lets you use the fresher by yourself but helps you stand up and settle the tunic back down around your body. It’s the only clothing you have on. Other than thick wool socks with rubber grips, that is. He says it’s not safe to walk without them. 

You’re sad to be led back to bed, and it must show. 

“How about I stay for a while, and you can have a break from the cuffs?” he offers. 

It works, and you brighten up a little. “Thank you, Din.”

He still makes you sit in bed, but you can hardly be cross. He’s sitting with you and keeping you safe. 

After all, that’s how you got hurt in the first place, he said. Falling off the bed like a silly little thing and cracking your head. 

Your dreams recall it quite differently. When you do dream, he’s there too. But he’s bigger. Scarier. And so angry. So, so angry. 

You always wake up before your head collides with the wall. 

Here, in the waking world, he holds you against his cold steel body. You’re inclined again to think he’s flesh underneath as warmth radiates from the leather and duraweave between the plates. He’s reading to you softly from a datapad since it still makes your head hurt when you try.

Which means he’s right there against you when it happens. You sit up, clutching your forehead. 

“What’s wrong?” he says.

“I don’t know,” you say through a dry, tacky mouth. Your head is pounding, and when you look at him, so is your heart. Not with love, that is, but with terror.

It must be written across your face because he stiffens.

“Who are you?” you whisper.

“Cyar’ika,” he says carefully, raising both hands as if he means no harm. “You had an accident. You’ve had a severe head injury. Your memories keep coming and going.”

You’ve heard this before. You don’t believe him this time.

“You know me. I’m your husband, Din.”

You shake your head, wincing. “I want the truth.” Because what’s undeniable now is that it wasn’t a dream. This bulking beast of a man had cornered you in an alley behind the cantina after your shift. 

He sighs, but there’s a new placating lilt to his voice when he responds. “Fine,” he murmurs, standing up. He comes around the bed and you back into the wall. Trapped. 

“You want the truth?” he says, voice low and sultry. Smug. His hand comes up to brush your cheek. “You need me, cyar’ika. You were out there all alone and scared. No one to care for you. No one to protect you.”

“You kidnapped me.”

“Hardly,” he scoffs. “You’ve always been mine. You just didn’t know it. But now that we’re together…”

He reaches into the many pouches around his waist and surfaces with a small syringe, the overhead light glinting off the needle’s shiny point. 

“We can do this one of two ways, cyar’ika. You can be good and do as I say. Or,” and he wiggles the needle in the air. “I can make sure you’re good. Either way, I promise I’ll take care of you.”

[lady-pug]

Warm Sand, Soft Hands

Summary: As you and Din try and help Mos Pelgo and the Tuskens against the Great Krayt Dragon, a split second decision from Din’s part might just change everything and leave you heartbroken. Heartbroken and furious.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Word count: 3,7k

Warnings: this one is quite angsty, plus a few descriptions of injuries (burns and blisters), but nothing further than that

Notes: okay, this is my first time ever posting on tumblr (other than a few reblogs, that is). I’ve only just gotten around to creating an account and I’m currently working on adding all of my already existing works on here. So I really hope you enjoy this! If you spot any mistakes, please feel free to warn me and I'll correct it right away, and feedback is always welcome and appreciated.

This work is part of a series, but all of the parts can be read as standalone one-shots (they are posted in non-chronological order). Reader’s gender not specified.

Next part | Masterlist | Read on AO3

Din couldn’t possibly discern what was wrong with you. You had been quiet for the entirety of the ride, your hands loosely wrapped around his waist. On more than one occasion he'd had to hold tightly onto your forearms while going over a dune, otherwise you certainly would have been thrown off the speeder. While he knew you weren’t particularly fond of Tatooine, too many bad memories tarnishing the planet for you, you had been fine when you first landed.

Once the speeder came to a stop near the entrance to the sarlacc pit you quickly hopped off, barely looking at him, and turned to move towards Vanth. But Din was faster and quickly grabbed your wrist before you could take a single step. Damn those bounty hunter reflexes. 

“Is everything alright?” he said, almost reverently “You seem tense.”

Shaking your head you tried to ease him, and yourself, with a strained smile.

“It’s nothing, Mando. No need to worry.”

“You know I always worry.” that seemed to make your smile shift to a more genuine one.

“I just-” you sighed “I have a bad feeling about this.”

“About what?”

“This!” you opened your arms and gestured around you in frustration “all of this! Slaying a krayt dragon is madness!” your voice dropped almost to a whisper “That thing could kill us all.”

His heart clenched at the look of pure fear in your eyes. Yes, it was madness, it would probably get messy really quickly but he had to do this. Too many lives were at risk if they didn’t kill this dragon now.

“You know I hate this as much as you do” now he was the one to sigh  “but we need to do this. The whole town and the Tuskens are depending on us.”

A sad smile appeared on your face.

“I know.”

You nodded at him and went to walk away but he held you in place with a hand to your upper arm.

“I won’t let anything happen to you” his voice was soft, his thumb absentmindedly rubbing up and down your arm “I promise.”

You chuckled halfheartedly.

“It’s not me I’m worried about.”

His thumb came to a halt mid rub as his heart skipped a beat. 

“Be careful out there, Mando.”

He gave your upper arm a light squeeze.

“You too, Cyar’ika.”

“How is that thing not dead?!” the Weequay bartender shouted over the deafening roar of the krayt dragon. The giant beast had managed to somehow dodge the explosion and crawled its way up a cliff. Sickly green acidic goo was projectiled from the creature’s stomach, getting a much better range than before.

“Oh, for kriff’s sake!” 

You knew from the moment you accepted Din’s (back then known as Mando) offer to be his live-in mechanic/nanny for The Child that this wouldn’t be a normal job. You just knew you would have to fend off bounty hunters, just like you had with Calican, and occasionally patch The Mandalorian up after a job gone wrong. But this certainly wasn’t on the job description. 

“I’m so asking Mando for a raise.” (not that you needed it, having him and the baby in your life was already payment enough on its own).

Out of the corner of your eye you could see two figures fly up towards the dragon. Din and Vanth landed on a slope and started shooting but even that didn’t work, as the dragon went back underground.

Disorientated, you, Tuskens and townsfolk started frantically looking around trying to predict where the dragon would pop up next. Turns out that was a little bit too close to where you were currently standing. You tried to fire your blaster at it but nothing seemed to work as it kept coming closer to you. You heard your name being shouted somewhere behind you.

“Get out of there!” Din’s modulated voice barely registered over the thumping of your heart on your ears. Sprinting away as the dragon came in your direction, you stumbled over your feet a safe distance away.

Suddenly it changed its course. It started crawling towards Din, Cobb and… a bunch of explosives tied up to a bantha.

“Smart, Mando. Very smart.”  

But your inner celebration was short lived. Din hit Cobb’s jetpack, making him fly away. But Din didn’t move; he wasn’t moving even as the dragon got closer and closer. In the few moments it took for you to realize what was happening and will your legs to start working again it was too late. 

Your feet felt glued to the ground. Your breath hitched and you felt as if your heart had stopped beating. Din’s plan had worked: the krayt dragon had devoured the bantha and with it, your Mandalorian.

You faintly heard someone screaming as the beast, seemingly satisfied, retreated back under the sand. It took you a few moments and two pairs of robe clad arms holding you back for you to realize you were the one screaming. Soft sand came in contact with the fabric of your trousers as your knees buckled.

It hurt. Maker, everything hurt. Your chest was on fire and you couldn’t inhale without being acutely aware of every particle of sand mixed with air as you tried to fill your lungs with oxygen. But it kriffing hurt. Something warm was running down your cheeks, blurring your vision and rolling off your chin and onto the sand. Tears. You were crying, sobbing, having witnessed your Mandalorian die a second time. 

The blood rushing in your ears almost led you to miss the distinct rumble of the krayt dragon re-emerging. Not again you thought. That thing already took too much from you, how was it not dead yet?

But then you saw something: as the dragon shot upwards something flew out of its mouth through an electrical storm, followed by the thing exploding up in flames. No, not something, someone. You squinted your eyes to try and get rid of the blur of tears against the harsh sun and realized… it was Din! He was alive and safe and very much not dead. 

As he landed before the dead dragon both the people from Mos Pelgo and the Tuskens started to congratulate and cheer for him. In that moment, the relief you felt just seconds ago from seeing he was okay suddenly shifted to a strange sense of embarrassment and anger. Your face burned in humiliation as you scolded yourself. Your tears previously born out of sorrow turned to ones of anger. Maker, you felt pathetic. Crying over a man who didn’t seem to give two bantha fodders about his own safety, about who he’d leave behind if he died or about you for all it seemed.

Getting off the ground you decided to give your- (No, he wasn’t yours to begin with) -the Mandalorian a piece of your mind.

He did it. He slayed a kriffing krayt dragon, a giant one at that. As his feet touched the ground he felt a small twinge of pride as the villagers cheered him on, but it was quickly snuffed out and replaced by relief. He only delivered the final blow afterall, it took a lot of combined effort from everyone to kill this thing, the people from Mos Pelgo, the Tuskens, Vanth, you… Maker, you were great out there. Well, you were always great, at least in his eyes, always making sure the kid was safe and protected. Where were you by the way? 

As he turned around in search of you he finally spotted you. But something wasn’t… quite right. You didn’t look happy or relieved, like he thought you would be. You looked downright pissed.

“Cyar’ika-”

The last thing he expected to happen was for you to shove him away from you. But his armor was still covered in stomach acid from the dragon and the moment your hands came in contact with his breastplate you pulled them away with a wail of agony.

“Cyar’ika, what are you doing?! Here let me-” as he took a step towards you and went to grab your hands in order to check them over you stumbled away from him.

“No!” you tucked your injured hands close to your chest “Don’t call me that!”

That made him freeze. He always called you that, ever since that fateful day in Nevarro, you were his cyar’ika. You may not have known what it meant but he knew you could easily guess it was something affectionate. 

“Are you kriffing stupid?!” you shouted at him, to which he stayed silent. “Why would you do that?! What were you thinking?”

“I saw an opportunity and decided to take it.” he mumbled after a moment, still a little uncertain about this whole interaction. 

You scoffed. That’s such a Mando thing to say.

“You jumped in the mouth of a Great Krayt Dragon, Mando!” you were practically shaking, vibrating with rage “You clearly didn’t think this through, did you?! Didn’t think about who you were leaving behind?”

He was about to retort, commenting on how he didn’t jump into its mouth, he was only holding the bantha and just happened to be in the way of its jaws when he saw it. Just a quick glimpse, barely there, but he managed to see it, his heart clenching as he realized what he was seeing. Beneath all the anger, the rage, was fear. The same look of unadulterated fear he saw on your face right before the fight began was back, and a lot stronger. Maker, he was so stupid, how could he be so dense? Of course you were scared, you just watched him die, again. It was the second time you thought he was dead in a too short period of time.

“I-I’m sorry, Cyar’ika, I-” you shook your head, your eyes turning misty and clouded, and walked away before you broke down in front of him.

Din felt something warm, uncomfortable and almost suffocating grow on his chest, crawling up his throat: it was guilt. He felt so guilty, he was trying to protect everyone, protect you, but he ended up hurting you in the process, after you specifically told him to be careful because you were worried about him. But no, he had to go and get himself eaten alive. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how you were feeling, first having left him to die (upon his request) in Nevarro and now this. He wanted to run after you, fall to his knees and beg for your forgiveness, even if he felt like he didn’t deserve it, he would spend the rest of his days groveling if it came to it. But he knew you needed space.  

His inner struggle was interrupted by a hand being clapped down on his shoulder.

“Trouble in paradise?” he could smack Vanth’s smirk right off his face.

After having harvested the dragon for its meat (and one lucky tusken finding an incredibly large pearl in its guts) it was time for you to leave and go back to Mos Pelgo where you would be staying until morning (“Only someone with a deathwish crosses the Dune Sea at night, Din.” you had told him). He approached you oh so slowly as if you were a scared wild animal that would flee the moment he spoke too loud or too fast.

“Are you ready to go?”

You barely looked at him, the only indication you even heard him was a slight tilt of your head. Was that how most people felt when talking to him?

When you didn’t answer, he sighed. Sensing the overall discomfort, Vanth chimed in from where he was tidying his speeder (if you could even call the engine of a podracer that).

“You could ride with me.” he said, taking a look at Mando, but quickly turned to address you again “If you want.”

That didn’t sit right with Din. He wanted you to ride with him, so he could know you were safe. So he could keep you safe. But when you nodded, he could only sigh as he watched you climb behind Vanth and speed off. A sad coo sounded from the rucksack strapped to the back of his speeder, as the baby’s ears sagged pitifully.

“I know, kid.” he addressed the kid, who was confusedly staring at him “I kriffed up.”

Holding onto Vanth during the ride back proved to be nearly impossible. Ugly blisters had started forming on the angry red skin of your palms, making them really sensitive to the touch. The only solution you found was locking your wrists onto one another circled around Cobb’s waist, resulting in him having to ride very slowly so you wouldn’t get catapulted off the speeder.

The slower pace was quite a nice change from the usual deafening engine roar as you could actually hear yourself think for once. After riding for a few miles Vanth’s voice broke you out of your trance.

“I get that you care about him.”

You knew exactly who he was talking about.

“I do.” you sighed “What are you getting at, Vanth?”

A beat of silence followed before he spoke up again.

“He cares about you too, you know?”

You blinked once, twice before his words finally registered and you looked down at your lap. Only a couple of moments later you found the strength to answer.

“I know.” a bitter laugh escaped past your lips before you could stop it “That’s the whole problem, isn’t it?.”

“Come again?”

A sharp warm sting burned in your eyes but you refused to let the tears brimming in them spill over.

“He cares about me and the kid. A lot. But he doesn’t seem to care about himself in the slightest!” you protested frustrated “What does he think would happen to us if he’s gone? I would get stranded on this Maker forsaken planet, with no credits and a green magic baby to take care of!” 

He stayed silent for a second before speaking up softly.

“I don’t think those are the real reasons you are so upset over this.”

You swallowed your tears some more.

“How does he think it would feel if he… how I would feel if he did…”

You couldn’t say it. Die your brain filled in for you. Din’s had multiple close calls, more than any person should have to go through in their entire lifetime. You understood that his job came with its fair share of dangerous situations, and had even been there to witness some of them. But he didn’t need to jump headfirst into it like he did today. He didn’t get out of the way, even when the dragon was charging right at him. There would certainly be another shot at killing the beast, there would be another option, but he didn’t get out of the way. He was ready to die. And it wasn’t the first time. Back in Nevarro he was ready to sacrifice himself so the lot of you could escape through the tunnels. That had absolutely broken your heart, even if you hadn’t known him for long. You had never wanted to feel like that again. 

How could he possibly think you would be okay if he was gone? You finally had something good, the closest thing to a little family after so long on your own-

And then it hit you. Din wasn’t being reckless just for the sake of it; when he was originally traveling alone he would just do whatever it took to finish the job as quickly as possible to just get it over with and be done with it. He was so used to traveling on his own, to being alone, that he often forgot that there were people who cared about him now. Maker, you felt so stupid; while you originally meant it as an angry insult, you quickly realized that he indeed did not think how you would feel if he died.

A deep feeling of shame started crawling up your chest and constricting your throat. Feeling childish for your outburst and angry at yourself for not seeing it sooner, while still feeling upset over thinking he was gone for good this time. You overreacted, you told yourself, and guilt was threatening to consume you whole. How were you going to face Din again? He probably thought you were just a pathetic, whining child, exactly how you felt right now. The pain on your hands didn’t feel so bad now with the way your heart was clenching painfully tight on your chest.

So absorbed in your own spiraling guilt you didn’t realize Cobb had already parked the speeder in front of the cantina back in town. Swinging a leg over the side of the vehicle, he hopped off but before walking away he gently grabbed your wrists, wary of your injured hands.

“He just did what he did to protect us. To protect you.”

And that was the nail on the coffing of your shame and guilt. The tears you were so desperately trying to hold back started cascading down your cheeks, a sob lodged in your lungs. Getting out of the speeder as fast as you could without toppling over in the sand you quickly ran inside the cantina and up the stairs towards the small room you were sharing with Din. In your haste to get to your room and under the covers you didn't even notice the black visor of a helmet staring your way from the bar.  

Finally in the safety of your shared room you leaned heavily back against the door at last acknowledging the turmoil of emotions swimming in your head and in your heart. While finally letting yourself cry freely, you couldn’t give in completely to the sobs that wanted so desperately to fly up your throat as anyone could hear it from downstairs. Instead, you felt yourself slide against the door and onto the ground, shoulders shaking and head tucked between your bent knees. 

After what felt like hours you heard a hesitant, almost silent knock on the door you're still slumped against. Your head was pounding from holding back sobs and you didn’t feel like speaking to anyone but that would be just downright rude. Getting up and swiping across your cheeks to get rid of the evidence of your despair, even though your tears had already dried, you opened the door, instantly regretting it.

Mando’s helmet was unreadable as he stared at you, his visor giving nothing away. Opening the door wider and stepping back into the room you allowed him in, but you kept your back to him. You heard the door close softly behind him and his boots coming further into the room, followed by a shuffling sound, as if he was going through his things. Or maybe he was going through your things. Oh, Maker, was he packing your stuff? Was he going to kick you out? Would he really-

“Let me look at your hands.” his stern yet soft voice cut through your inner rambling. Out of all the things he could have said, that was the last one you were expecting, prompting you to turn your body sideways and glance at him out of the corner of your eyes.

“What?”

“Let me take a look at your hands, Cyar’ika.” turning fully towards him you caught a glimpse of a medkit clutched in his hands and a wave of relief washed over you. Nodding, you sat at the edge of the bed and waited for him to start assessing your injuries. He knelt down in front of you, gingerly grabbing your hands, holding them in his own, palms facing up. A small hiss escaped from his modulator as he pulled out a bottle of bacta spray to apply over the blisters.

He was handling you with such care that it made you feel guilty all over again. You couldn’t look him in the visor, choosing instead to keep your gaze fixed on his gloved hands. The cooling sensation of the bacta was wonderful against your palms, but did nothing to soothe the ache in your heart. He was being so gentle, why was he being gentle?

Din kept working on your hands, hoping to start fixing some of his faults. A sudden whimper made his head snap up so quickly it almost gave him a whiplash. 

“I’m sorry.” you whispered. Although you wouldn’t look directly at him, he could see the trail of crystalline tears falling down your cheeks. “I’m sorry, Din, I’m so sorry!” he could hear the desperation in your voice.

“What for, Cyar’ika?” he asked in the gentlest voice he could muster, the one he often used when talking to the kid. 

“I-I was so rude to you a-and-'' your hiccups cut right through him, as he realized you blamed yourself for whatever your mind had conjured.

“No, Cyar’ika, no.” he shook his head and gently brought your hands close to his chest, almost tucked under his chin “You have nothing to apologize for.”

“B-but-”

“No buts. You didn’t do anything wrong.” oh how he wished he could kiss each and every one of your knuckles right now “If anything I should be the one apologizing, I was the one who made you worry.”

His words brought a small smile to your tired face. He stood up and brought your trembling frame into his arms, your face tucked safely into the beskar of his breastplate as you finally allowed yourself to fully cry.

“I just-” you sobbed before whispering the next sentence, which promptly broke his heart in a million tiny pieces “I don’t want to lose you.”

He shook his head. 

“You won’t” he whispered back “I promise. Ni ceta, Cyar’ika. Ni ceta.” he felt like he could cry as well.

Din laid his head on top of yours, gently whispering “I’m sorry.” over and over. 

As you slowly calmed down, you nuzzled further into his arms. Thinking with a clearer head made you realize that, while dangerous situations like the one you faced today would continue to happen, he would always come back to you, and you would always find a safe place in his arms at the end of the day. Now he had something worth coming home to.

Bonus: *gasp* “Where’s the kid?” “With Vanth at the bar.” *stare* *sigh* “Which thinking about it now doesn’t sound like a great idea at all.” *giggle*

[jb2856]

So I’ve seen some Hades!Din x readers and those are so elegantly written, what if it’s an Apollo!Din x reader? He just reminds me of the sun…so warm and beautiful… mmm ☺️

Apollo-esque!Din Djarin x gn!Reader

Tags/warnings: (No rating restrictions) not really any character description just that Din is larger, use of you/your, they have a child (sorry hope that’s okay), fluffffff, no helmet is a-okay in this AU

AN: again I truthfully dont know a lot about this topic or subject (Apollo), so I researched some stuff and I hope this suffices. I didn’t have an idea that Jumped out to me, so I just started writing and I ended with a hybrid mandalorian/modern but also not? God!Din that resembles Apollo lol. I’ve never written anything like this before, so it was a little of a challenge.

Inbox is OPEN! Ask away 😊

———————————————————————————

As you sit in a chair in front of your window, gazing out at the pond,the blades of grass swaying in the wind. Your eyes shift to your lover outside, and watch as Din tends to the cattle, giving them loving pats as he replenishes their water and hay. You smile, your hand resting on your child’s head that’s slumped on your chest.

As you watch you can’t help but remember the past.

Many years ago , after the fall of your covert only one man was able to assist, only one man was able to help relocate you. He was single handedly able to save your people from destruction.

He stayed and helped rebuild. He became one of the people. He became the leader of the people.

He was light incarnate.

Din Djarin was a modern day God, literally.

He was magnificent, and you loved him. Immensely.

Din Djarin wasn’t a small man, he towered over you. Not to mention he had a larger than life presence.

‘He reminds you of the sun itself. So…warm, so beautiful.’

He has a fluffy, tousled head of brown hair. Deep brown eyes that perfectly reflected the suns light, they expressed everything to you that his words couldn’t. A large nose, a dusting of facial hair, and plump lips adorned his strong face.

He wore a golden baskar headband, a remnant you think, of his past life. It perfectly fit his forehead, the shape of it coming down towards the bridge of his nose, a perfect T shape. It has a simple line of silver running through the middle of it.

Strapped to his utility belt was a blindingly bright golden baskar sword, you swear it emits literal warmth of the sun. He often was dressed in his armor, but unlike its gold counterparts was a polished silver.

When you were with him, he often told you of his life. He had a lot of darkness inside him, you knew. He has told you of his twin sister, of her death. Tales of the battles he’s lived through, of the people he’s helped.

You will admit he is astounding, but rather arrogant. Although to you, his actions speak more than his attitude. Clearly he deeply cares about helping the people, not just the praise or the scarce rewards.

His power is intimidating.

He had been elected the King, nicknamed “Averter of Evil.”

And he was.

He was the protector, he had helped you and your people more times than you know.

You had fallen in love, slowly, but did nevertheless.

Slowly the people moved on, and you and Din had also. You’d moved to a planet rich in soil, you’d settled. Now living off the land, carrying for cattle. You’d planted an expansive garden.

You have a child together.

Your thoughts come back to you as Din walks in the door, stomping his boots against the mat before stepping over the threshold. You turn your head towards him, a warm smile gracing your features.

You laugh to yourself sometimes thinking about your lover. A god, with true power, doing such mundane things. And happily, you might add.

“Hello love.” He says as he makes his way quietly towards you and your child. His hand settled over his sims head, spanning the entire length of it.

Of all the rumors you’ve heard of the gods, their wrath, their unpleasantness. Din never ceases to amaze you, he seems so different. But sometimes you think, could it be that he has lived so long he has finally come to realize what’s important.

“Hi.” You say lovingly, as he leans down to plant a kiss to your waiting lips.

“How is he?” He asks as he moves to your little kitchen to clean his hands.

“Better.” You whisper, leaning down to place a soft kiss against your child’s sweaty forehead. He had been under the weather, a fever. A simple virus. Din could heal him, but you’ve both agreed that when it is a simple sickness you’d let him ride it out, as long as he was in no danger. “He’s exhausted.”

“No surprise.” Din says quietly, returning to you. He leans down and arranges your son into his arms. “I’m going to put him in bed.” You simply nodded.

You can’t imagine your life in any other way now, Din has effectively come in and joined your life course. Before you flew alone, soaring through the vast emptiness of space, then his soul had twined with yours. You spun together now, your paths the same. You both believe the maker had blessed your union, giving you the gift of immortality.

When he returns he stands in front of you, reaching a hand out to you. You smile warmly, grasping it. He lifts you up to your feet.

“Dance with me,” He states simply.

“Okay.” You say.

And you do. Your head on his shoulder, as you sway.

“I love you.” He says gruffly.

“I love you too Din.”

[reaperofmen]

Ugh. I remember reading this awhile ago and then losing it to the Tumblr abyss. It's still so sweet and lovely! 🥰🥰

don’t know you’re taking requests or prompts but just had this idea of reader drowning/near drowning, and in your near death haze you think you’re being kissed by din and can hear his voice and when you come to you sit up, still out of it but can feel someone supporting you as you throw up water, a hand patting your back to get it all out, and as you finally relax still breathing hard and a bit in shock, you lean back into whoever’s supporting you, and can hear the un-modulated voice behind you asking if you’re okay and you’re sitting facing away from him and say yea but then it hits you

for you, anon 💙

gn!reader cw: near-death experience, drowning, unconsciousness, angst, spice

It happens so quickly that you don't have time to call out or hold your breath. The ground shifts under your feet and then—crack, plummet, flood, asphyxia.

You sink like a boulder through churning blue, and despite the electric shock of cold on your nervous system, your limbs feel clumsy and lethargic as you try to force your way up. Your efforts to break the surface are futile—the black water is too claustrophobic and disorienting, too heavy and deep, pressing in on you from all sides, dragging you down, down.

Ice, panic, abyss. An iron circle closes around your wrist, and everything goes numb. Blank.

You drift back to consciousness slowly, to bright sunshine behind your closed eyelids, to a warm embrace. Soft lips close over yours. Somewhere in the back of your mind, it hits you: This is a dream.

A good dream.

Your eyes are closed, but you know the lips moving against yours belong to the Mandalorian, your Mandalorian. You know him by his smell—smoke, metal, worn leather—and by the hard lines of his beskar pressed against your body. You know because you've imagined this hundreds—thousands—of times.

Something heavy lands on your chest, and the bliss is ripped right out of your grasping hands. You're plunged back into nothingness.

You wake again when something angry and scaled claws up the back of your throat. Your eyes snap open, and you retch up water, your eyes stinging and lungs screaming. You're shivering, chattering, frozen—sitting on the cold ground, slumped against something solid—

Behind you, Mando makes a broken, choked sound of pure relief. A large hand smooths down your trembling back, pats hard, and you heave up more water.

"Thank fuck—that's it, cough it out—"

You choke and splutter, and he slides closer behind you when your gasping inhales slow to wavering hiccups. He fits himself against your back, knees bracketing your hips, his arms locked around you in a bone-crushing embrace.

His breath is hot against your neck when he buries his face there, his voice halting and fraught: "I thought I lost you, mesh'la. I thought—I thought you—"

His breath. His unmodulated voice. It clicks.

Your own voice is wrung raw, croaky and fractured. "Mando—your helmet—"

"It's okay," he reassures you. "Just close your eyes. I need to—"

"Close my eyes? Why—"

"Please."

Your eyes slip closed at his plea, and an ungloved hand frames your jaw to guide you around. You twist backward, and he leans forward, his lips meeting yours in a sloppy crash. It's a messy kiss, frenzied and hungry and cut short when he pulls away.

"We have to get back to the ship, get you warm. I can't lose you. I won't."

[kaleidescope-writes]

"So that's where you are..."

Din Djarin x reader

18+, Minors DNI

Tags: Established relationship, swearing, protective!Din, No use of Y/N, no mention of the show's plot, mention of violence, Din's sexy ass voice, year long wait

Pretty sure I missed something, if I did lemme know!

Should I make a part 2?

You knew this was a bad idea. You knew this wasn't going to end well. But you were too far in to stop now. You'd been traveling with the infamous Mandalorian for months, looking for jobs and trying to keep the little green monster safe. It's been rough for the three of you, especially since many of the available jobs would compromise the three of you and put Grogu in inescapable harm. "There are more jobs out there, safer jobs." Din would say. But none of them would pay half as much as those he deemed "too risky." Not only that, they were scarce throughout the Galaxy. Every planet you landed on only had a few jobs Din was willing to take.

It was funny to you. Before Grogu came along, the last thing on his mind when taking a job was whether it was too dangerous. You'd often have to scold him for caring so little about his own safety, claiming he had no sense of self-preservation. Grogu changed that. Grogu was his wake-up call. Now he cares more about the safety of all three of you than how many credits the job offered. You were struggling to buy provisions and keep the Razor Crest in good shape. Peli was a big help, giving you a discounted price on repairs, but it still wasn't enough sometimes. Sometimes you had to scrape the bottom of the barrel just to have enough rations to make it to the next job. Despite wanting to stay optimistic, you knew you couldn't keep this up, it wasn't practical. You had a few conversations with Din about your concerns, but he kept reassuring you that it was fine. "Yours and Grogu's safety is what matters the most. We'll find other jobs, but I can't let anything happen to either of you." But that wasn't enough to make your worries dissipate. You still didn't have enough credits to buy the supplies you desperately needed.

That's what brought you here. You told Din that you were going into the next town over to try to find cheaper supplies for your travels while he took the next job. You hated having to lie to him, but it was getting harder to get by. The last time you visited Peli, you bargained asked for a favor. You asked her to send one of the droid-piloted ships in her possession to the next planet you were headed to, in exchange for a portion of the credits you'd get. You then had it take you to a different planet in the solar system, one you knew you could find one of the jobs Din refused to take. So here you were, waiting in an isolated corner of one of the grime-filled, crowded bars that bounty hunters frequented. You were looking for the zabrak that had offered Din the job a few days prior. He'd said that it was about killing a mercenary that had double crossed him a few months back. They weren't exactly well-known, but they'd made enough of a name for themselves in the underground for other hunters to stay away. Din said he could've taken care of it, but the only thing that stopped his was the very thing you were tired of hearing about. You knew you could handle it. Din had trained you well enough to take a job like this yourself, but he never really gave you the chance to prove it. You didn't need to. He would always be there to make sure you didn't. But now you had to.

A chirping noise coming from your belt pulled you out of your thoughts. Pulling out your holoprojector, you started to feel uneasy. You'd been gone for hours, he definitely noticed by now. As reluctant as you were, you knew that if you didn't respond, he would be absolutely mad with worry. Despite trying to get the job done as secretively as possible, you knew that worrying him would make it harder for him to understand why you decided to ignore his wishes for you to stay safe and stay near him. You knew you had to answer. The moment the hologram took the form of his helmet, the pressure in your stomach became harder to ignore. "Where are you?" His deep, modulated voice asked. You debated continuing the lie you previously used to leave his side, but the way he tilted his head towards you served as a warning against it. "I came looking for another job," you replied bluntly, "We need more than a few credits to get by this time." A deep exhale sounded through the hologram, he was upset. "You weren't in the next town over, I looked for you in every shit hole bar I could find. Where are you?" he asked more sternly He knew you'd gone farther than that, there was no doubt in his mind. That didn't deter you from accomplishing your original purpose here. You needed the supplies. That was something even he couldn't deny anymore. "Looking for another job," you repeated, knowing he wasn't going to stop asking, "I'll go back when I'm done, I just need you to be patient."

"Cyar'ika, tell me where you are. I'll pick you up and we can find a job together," Din tried, his voice easing up a bit as he spoke. Your stomach churned more, preparing another avoidant response. "Ah, there you are!" A very distinct familiar voice called over the noise of the crowd of drunkards, "You changed your mind then? You'll take the job?" Approaching your secluded corner of the bar, the zabrak you were looking for announced his presence out enough to be heard by your concerned lover. You felt your heart drop to your knees, knowing damn well Din would recognize the shrill, raspy voice of the man that had previously offered him the job. You turned your attention back to the holoprojector in your hand, attempting to end the projection before he'd fully realize where you were. But you weren't fast enough, as a deep hum resounded from his image followed by a sentence that would upturn your anxiety.

"So that's where you are."

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

A/N: Heyo! I know it's been almost a year since I posted the preview, sorry for the delay. Also, I meant to make this longer, but I figured if anyone wants to read more I can make a part 2. Love you guys, stay safe, stay proud, stay strong! 💖

Also, if my irl friends find this, not you fucking didn't 🫵😠

[djarins-cyare]

Din Djarin: The Contractor

I had no access to my WIPs for a few days this week, so my brain started inventing scenarios… ‘imagines’, I guess? This (totally unedited) one came about when I happened to scroll past the first two pics of Din on Pinterest, and the memory of Joel telling Ellie he used to be a contractor sprang to mind…

Well, your [SWU-techno-thingy] is broken. Great. Trying to keep your irritation in check, you call the repair company, who politely assure you they’ll send over their best guy immediately. It’s late in the day, and dusk is approaching fast, so you guess you should be happy they’re willing to send anyone out at all.

After a lengthy wait, during which your irritation seems to grow exponentially, your repairman pootles up to your home on his banged-up speeder, parking outside. Unhurriedly, he grabs his tools and trudges into your home, nodding a greeting but remaining suspiciously quiet and not even giving his name.

Perhaps doing a late job has made him grouchy. Yeah, well, not having a working [SWU-techno-thingy] has made you grouchy, too. Get in line, pal.

You show him the problem, and he spends a while trying to get a better look at it, peering into the inner workings and sighing. He mumbles “hmm” an awful lot, sometimes tutting and shaking his helmet at what he sees, and he takes plenty of readings with various tools.

Eventually, he concludes his analysis and tells you it’ll cost double what you were quoted when you called earlier because your [SWU-techno-thingy] is entirely dead. Apparently, he needs to replace your [thingamajig] in order to realign your [whatchamacallit] and get it running again, which requires brand-new parts and a lot of labour.

When you baulk at this, he simply shrugs and says he doesn’t set the rates; they’re determined by the Guild. Then he stands there, looking annoyingly smug, waiting for you to authorise him to start work.

You reluctantly agree and leave him to it, stomping off in the hope that you can find something to occupy yourself while he works.

Frustratingly, you can’t, and when you return shortly thereafter to check how it’s going, you find he’s taking a break. What the hell? A break already???

As much as you try to keep your anger in check, you virtually yell that he’s supposed to be on the clock and he’d better not be charging you for the time he’s spending sitting around doing nothing!

He grumbles something about missing dinner (with a womp rat, of all things!) for this, puts down the bowl he was drinking from, and huffily grabs his tools to get to work.

Finally, he starts the job you hired him for, and you stick around to monitor him, slightly worried he might try and push his luck again. But it seems like he’s pulling his weight at last — tools a-turnin’, sparks a-flyin’. He seems to know what he’s doing.

After a while, you start to realise that what he’s doing is actually pretty impressive. You can’t deny he looks skilled and competent — almost badass — as he expertly fixes your [SWU-techno-thingy].

Satisfied he’s now earning his fee, you leave him to it for a while, once again trying to find something else to occupy you.

But it’s not long before you find yourself back again, keen to know how he’s doing. For a moment, you think he might’ve fallen asleep because he’s lying down, and the bitter taste of annoyance returns, but… oh nope, he’s just getting a better angle for the repairs.

He keeps working diligently, so you let him continue without disturbing him.

After what feels like a lifetime, he finally tells you he’s all finished.

As you inspect his work, you notice him standing off to the side like a kid waiting for the teacher to grade his class project. It’s sort of sweet, in a way.

It seems like he did a decent job, and you tell him so, handing him payment with a smile, which he accepts with a nod. He then collects his stuff (an impressive display of strength), bids you goodbye and turns to leave.

You escort him to the door, thanking him again and watching your taciturn repairman walk away from your home.

Now that you have a working [SWU-techno-thingy] once again and have recovered from being quoted an extortionate price for its repair, you revise your opinion of your contractor. He’s skilled, and aside from being a little huffy to start with (though you concede he was probably just hungry), he seems like a nice guy.

Plus, as he walks away from you, you can’t help but admire his perfect ass, remembering how good it looked earlier when he bent over to grab his toolkit.

Almost as if he can feel your gaze, when he gets to the edge of your property, he turns back to look at you, lingering for a moment, meeting your stare in that intense way of his.

Your pulse picks up, and for a second, you think he might come back — that he might push you inside and have his wicked way with you, give you a decent seeing to with those skilled hands of his.

The moment you share is electric, and you imagine a plethora of debauched scenarios as you stare into his T-visor with hope…

…but it passes as he tears his gaze away, hurriedly loads up his rusted speeder bike, and climbs on. He gives you a final nod as he pulls away, departing from your life as swiftly as he arrived.

Oh well, it was surely a ridiculous thought anyway.

You return inside and try to get on with your evening, but your thoughts keep drifting back to your contractor. Why can’t you stop thinking about him? He barely even spoke to you.

Eventually, you cave and admit it. You’re attracted to him. He has a magnetism you don’t understand, yet you can’t deny its pull on you. But there’s nothing you can do about that… is there? And he might not feel the same anyway.

You keep thinking about the look he gave you when he left. There was something there, you’re sure of it.

So… okay. Are you really going to break something else to get him to come back?

Yes. Yes, you are…

[thefrogdalorian]

Dincember Day 5: Cold

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Word Count: 1109 Rating: General Summary: After your favourite Mandalorian's latest assignment with the New Republic means that his return to your cabin is delayed, you head to bed, thoroughly miserable. But when Din finally arrives home the reunion does not go entirely smoothly, as you find yourself needing to warm him up, with adorable consequences. Content Warnings: None! Author's note: I love it when big scary bounty hunters are secretly little spoons.

Link to read on AO3 | My Dincember Masterlist

You were accustomed to Din arriving back to your cabin on Nevarro from his various assignments with the New Republic at all times of day and night. You had come to learn, after several disappointments, not to wait up for him on the days that he said he would be back. Before, you would feel the unmistakable despondency creeping in as his arrival times grew later and later, usually caught up in some bureaucratic nonsense.

Tonight appeared to be no exception, as the time on your chronometer when Din had promised to be back came and went, with still no sign of him, nor any word from him as to how long he would be. You had tried your best to stop letting it get to you, but you could not deny the sinking feeling that you felt in your chest each and every time he wasn’t back with you at the time he had promised. The cabin felt so dark and lonely without him. You were miserable without him, you felt somehow incomplete without his presence.

With nothing else to do and no point in waiting up for him, you decided to make yourself your favourite hot tea and climb into the cot you shared with Din in order to try and get some sleep. The thought of climbing between the blankets without him was thoroughly unappealing, but the lack of contact proved that whatever he was caught up in was out of his control. He was probably somewhere out there, just as frustrated as you were. You missed him terribly, but perhaps when you woke up, Din would be where he belonged: back with you.

Sometimes, the sounds of the N-1 engines descending through the atmosphere to park outside the cabin would wake you up. But despite your unhappiness and concern for him, you had been so tired that you were in a deep sleep by the time Din finally arrived home. The N-1 parking up did not raise you from your slumber, nor did Din and Grogu as they arrived back at the cabin. The first sign that Din had returned home was the sound of the door to the room you shared together opening.

“Din?” You said sleepily, into the darkness.

“I’m home, cyare.” Din’s familiar, deep, soothing voice sounded into the Nevarrian night. You heard him beginning to carefully remove his beskar’gam, a comforting sound that told you he was closeby. “Don’t get up.”

“Glad you’re home,” You sighed happily, halfway between wakefulness and slumber. You soon fell back to sleep. 

Your eyelids fluttered open as you felt the mattress sink with Din's weight as he made himself comfortable on the cot next to you. You smiled as you felt the cotton of his soft clothes as he wrapped his strong arms around your waist. But something was wrong. Rather than the warm, steadying embrace you had grown accustomed to, your ordinarily calm, unwavering Mandalorian trembled from head to toe.

“Din, what’s the matter?” You said concernedly, now fully awake. “You’re shaking all over. Did something happen?”

“I’m ju-just so...” Din struggled to speak against the chattering of his teeth, “C-c-cold.”

“Oh, come here, love.” You said as you pushed him carefully onto his side so his back was facing you, pulling the blanket around the two of you as you did so. You wrapped your arms around his abdomen and pushed them under his shirt so your hands came to rest, palms splayed, against his firm stomach that was beginning to soften slightly with age. “Let me warm you up.”

“Th-th-thank you,” Din said, still shivering.

“Was the job somewhere cold?” You asked sympathetically. 

“Ha-had to report to ice pl-planet… Hoth.” Din explained. So that was what the delay had been, then, you surmised.

“Is Grogu alright?” You asked, concerned about what the cold would have done to a being as tiny as Din's son.

“Ye-yes…” Din nodded, “Left hi-him in the ship while… talked to Teva.”

“Okay, just rest now. Focus on getting warm.” You soothed, stroking his dark curls gently between your fingers.

You lay there for a few minutes, enjoying the feeling of Din in your arms, despite how much he was still trembling. It was a welcome change, despite the less-than-ideal conditions that had brought about a shift in your dynamic. Din always liked to gather you up in his arms protectively and hold you close and of course you enjoyed his enormous, warm presence that engulfed you whenever he held you in his arms. You had never felt a greater sense of safety or belonging in all your days than when you were in Din's arms. But every once in a while, it was nice to have a role reversal, to hold him and make him feel how much you loved him and wanted to protect him, too. The absolute love and devotion in your relationship flowed both ways and it was an honour to remind Din of that.

As you laid there and held him tightly, continuing to stroke his bare skin underneath his clothes with your palms, you felt how the tremours that had wracked his body decreased in both their frequency and ferocity. You were grateful that what you were doing had worked, that Din seemed to be warming up from the frigid air on Hoth that had frozen him to the bone.

“You feeling any better now?” You asked as you dropped a gentle kiss to the nape of his neck.

“Much better.” Din sighed happily, though you could tell from the fatigue in his voice how exhausted he was. 

“That’s what I like to hear,” You said in relief, “Why don’t you get some sleep, Din? You sound exhausted.”

“I am,” Din huffed.

“Awwww, honey.” You soothed. “You can tell me all about yours and Grogu’s latest adventures in the morning.” You said, rubbing Din’s stomach softly again. "But first, rest."

“Will do,” Din’s voice was barely above a whisper now, heavy with sleep. “Goodnight, cyare.”

“Goodnight, Din.” You whispered. “I love you.”

“Love you…” Din mumbled, voice trailing off as sleep finally embraced him. You could tell, with a smirk, from his even, shallow breaths that he had dozed off. 

You were grateful for how easily sleep seemed to have come to him. After a long, arduous job like the one he had returned from, he needed his rest. You were desperate to hear the tales from his adventures but you knew that could wait because sometimes your big, formidable bounty hunter just needed to lie there and be the little spoon, as you helped to warm him up from the cold.

[drawingdroid]

To be taken care of

Pairing: Din Djarin x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Spotchka makes Mando show his desire to take care of you.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: Bounty Hunter!Reader, soft!Din, set before Season One, smut!!!, little plot for context, but also FLUFF!, v fingering, no gendered words used, no y/n, alcohol, dirty talk, drunk sex, hint of praise kink, mirror kink, feelings???, reader is clueless about them tho, kind of sinful use of the helmet sorry armorer!

A/N: Hi!!! This is the first time I’m writing for this fandom OMG. I have little experience writing fics and I’m not 100% happy about this, but hey I had fun while typing smut at work! Also English is not my mother tongue and I have no Beta only Grammarly, although I edited this thoroughly, so sorry if this is awkward hehehe, I’d love to hear your thoughts about it!

You both probably had exceeded your tolerance limit with the spotchka that the kind people of Sorgan had gifted you on your last visit to the planet. Everything started with an excruciating hunt that had taken a toll on you and your bussiness partner. When the trandoshan male you’d been persecuting for weeks was finally frozen in carbonite, both of you sighed in relief and then your gaze met with his behind the visor. Neither of you were very talkative, your silences sometimes speaking louder than words. In addition, you both where extra grumpy that night because of the tiredness. Limping because of your sore muscles, provoked by hiding lying down on the hard floor for hours, you went directly to the spot where your provisions were. He tilted his head, curious. Normally after a hunt, you run to the shower to clean the grime accumulated from the days on the run.

Mando's questions were rapidly resolved when you triumphantly showed him the blue bottle and two metal mugs you used for everything. You must be a minimalist in a ship like the Razor Crest, which was definitely not designed for habitability. You also showed him the reusable straw you got him so he could drink in front of you on the field without worrying about his Creed. He fixated his helmet on you and finally nodded, so you poured him the spotchka filling the cup to the brim and then did the same for you. Next you let yourself slip down the metal floor with a heavy thump, too exhausted to stand for a minute more. He followed you and soon you found yourselves toasting lazily on the ground and drinking in silence.

“You did great today, mesh’la.” He said after emptying his mug for the first time that evening. You downed your beverage on your lap and looked at him as if he had gone nuts. In your time with him, he’d never praised you for your work. It was just expected that you gave your 100% in your hunts, right? You were after all partners, business partners. Associates. That sometimes fucked, alright. But you both kept things professional. So why did his praise affect the color of your cheeks that much?

“Thanks, Mando.” You muttered after finishing your spotckha too, offering to fill his mug again by raising the bottle towards him. He nodded and his gaze didn’t leave you this time. The truth was that Din was impressed by your performance in this last job. He knew you were a capable bounty hunter, of course, or he wouldn't have asked you to join him in the first place. It was only for one job initially, but you’d been so resourceful and worked so well along with him that he had to request you to join him full-time.

In the field, you always had his back, saving his metal ass more than one time, and your perception and ability to read people’s intentions was incredibly useful. Even though you weren't Mandalorian, he respected you as a warrior as if you were one of them. Not only respect, he felt admiration towards you.

And then it was the other side of your partnership. The one that occurred in the dark, rushed, your flushed skin against the cold beskar and soft sighs fogging his visor. The first time occurred after a near-death experience, the adrenaline ended in you being pressed against the wall in some alley by his beskar-clad body. He discovered you weren’t only outstanding at bounty hunting, but in other disciplines too.

Your intercourses would usually happen after a hunt gone south when both of you were especially frustrated and needed to let some steam off. You had three unspoken rules about them: you never talked while fucking, it was always done in the dark, and you never mentioned it afterwards. And of course, the helmet stayed on. You could never have imagined that you'd break all of the rules the current night.

You both had emptied the second round by the moment Mando spoke again. "I'm glad you accepted to be my business partner." His voice through the modulator caught you off guard, as you were lost in thought at the moment. He wasn't looking at you this time. You wondered if he was already drunk because he was behaving so off-character.

"You only say that because you love my stew." You chuckled nervously while pouring another mug for yourself. He asked his to be filled too and half of the spotchka was already gone. You could feel your palms against the glass sweaty: this opening-up-with-Mando thing was new for you.

"No…Yes, I mean… I do love your stew." It actually was the best he'd tasted and a great change from the ration packs he'd usually consume while on the Razor Crest. Mando played with the metal straw in his drink as if it was filled with your star recipe. "But what I'm saying is…it's nice to have you around." You looked at him quizzically, without a clue about where this conversation was directed or what was he referring to. Like he enjoyed your presence? Impossible. You rarely even spoke and didn’t know a lot about each other. Just enough to know you could trust your partner in the field. Maybe he was referring to sex. You knew he enjoyed it, as you did too. It was hot and somewhat felt forbidden. But anything in his cryptical tone indicated he was talking about sex, and it would be a first between you. Finally you decided he must be speaking about your job, you worked well together for sure.

"I suppose…we make a good team." Your half smile was timid and Mando surprised himself when his heart skipped a beat at your smile, but he was a bit disappointed. That was not what he was referring to. Sometimes he wished to be as talented with words as Greef Karga. He nodded and sipped half of the liquid courage remaining in his mug when he heard you giggling.

"What?" He asked drily. He almost felt hurt, where you laughing at him after dodging his attempt to tell you how he felt? You tried to stop but the alcohol had started to take a toll on your self-control. Especially on your empty stomach.

"You…you look so…so cute with your straw." He now fixated his visor on you, and although you tried to stop your laughter with your hand he only made it worse by looking deadly while sipping his spotchka.

"So you bought it in order to make fun of me?" You couldn't discern if he was joking or not but you started to be too drunk to care. He was marveled by this relaxed version of you, looking careless while sprawled on the floor. Even during sex, you'll keep it together, always looking composed. Was a bit of spotchka the one thing it took for you to get loose? If that was the case, he'd buy supplies for ages on the next planet.

"No dummy, I got it because that time you got dehydrated on Tatooine! You scared the shit out of me." Mando hardly remembered how that hunt ended, since in fact, he ended up fainting because of the lack of liquids due to being glued by the hip to you all the mission. It was certainly embarrassing. But what really made his cheeks flush was the endearing tone you had used to insult him.

"I appreciate how you always take care of me." His voice was softer than usual and the impact it had on you was totally unexpected. You stared at him frozen. Was he dehydrated again? You looked at the bottle of spotchka confused. Sure, it was a bit stronger than usual, but not that much.

"Mando… Are you drunk?" You asked carefully, and then he rotated all his body towards you.

"I want to take care of you, too." His voice came strained while he ignored your question. Your face couldn't be redder and your heartbeat started to go out of control. This couldn’t be happening, right? Where you reading well the room?

"Well, I could really use a massage. You know, my boss had me laying all day in some kriffing hole as if I was his personal sniper and my back is killing me." You said nonchalantly after a long silence, avoiding his face on purpose. He sighed in defeat and lay again in the position he was before, his long legs stretched on the floor.

"Your boss looks like an asshole." You could hear now a smile behind the helmet in his voice that warmed your heart.

"He's a tough bone, but he ends up growing on you." You winked at him and then got up, feeling suddenly how drunk you actually were. You stretched your arms over your head and then your neck and Mando could hear the crack of every one of your bones.

“I’ll give you that massage.” You weren’t expecting that he’d taken it seriously at all. He was no stranger to your body, but this new behavior of his was getting on your nerves. You had already spoken more than in all the month you were on board the Razor Crest. Slowly you nodded.

“Let me shower real quick first.” Without further notice, you locked yourself in the refresher to have the fastest shower in history, leaving The Mandalorian with his thoughts while you replayed your conversation in your head, trying to figure out his intentions.

After refreshing, you looked through your possessions, finally finding the small bottle of scented oil, and then returned to the hull while drying your hair a bit with a towel. The shower hadn't diminished your drunken state at all, and you were feeling feisty now. Thinking about how Mando was going to give you a massage had ignited your desire. And you could work with that. Because even though emotional intimacy wasn’t your forte, you new plenty about the physical one.

Mando was in the same place you had left him, now his back against the wall in a relaxed demeanor. He looked at you and then he was thankful you couldn't see his face. Of course, he had seen you in your undergarments before, but always in a non-sexual way like attending to your wounds or just a glimpse here or there. When you fucked you’d both keep most of your clothes on. He’d never appreciated you in all your glory towering over him like this. He gulped and felt his pants somewhat tighter.

You then sat nimbly in front of him, your back facing his front, and left the oil in your right so he could reach it. You noticed that another quarter of the spotchka bottle was missing.

"Confiscated." Giving him a mischievous glance, you twisted your body to reach the bottle and opened it to have a sip directly from it. Mando still hadn't moved a millimeter. A single drop slid along your throat and suddenly he wished he could lick it so badly. He had noted that your demeanor had changed, no longer nervous but confident in your body and sexuality. And that kriffin made him snap. His large hands snaked around your hip bones, dragging your body closer to his chest in one movement You gasped at the sudden contact, but this was familiar. Rough Mando, pressing you from behind against the nearest surface.

His long, muscular legs were spread around you, and you couldn't but appreciate his width and strength, seduced to caress where the beskar wasn't covering them. The time started to go slower as you stroked his skin through the flight suit. Sometimes it was difficult to remember that under all the metal a living red-blooded man resided. And said man was shivering now under your soft touches, praying that you didn't notice his neediness. He was a warrior with a task.

"Mesh'la, let me take care of you." His voice was gentle and raspy when he spoke next to your ear, and if he hadn't been wearing a helmet, you could have felt his breath tickling your skin. The tone in which he pronounced the foreign word made you feel a lot of things, some of them directed to your lower abdomen. You heard the tap of the oil and goosebumps of anticipation covered your skin. When the first drops slid down your column you were the one shivering this time.

When you felt his hands over your skin, you melted. You hadn't noticed when he’d removed his gloves. He rarely did it, and feeling them on your abused shoulders was like warm honey. You almost moaned from the touch of the rough skin of his big palms, his strong thumbs working on the knots that always formed over your shoulder blades. It felt heavenly.

“Is this okay?” If you didn’t know better, you’d swear his voice sounded a bit shy, but it was always difficult to tell through the modulator.

“S’ perfect Mando.” Your tone was breathy as you started to get a bit much worked up by his touch. He hummed and continued with his ministrations in silence. The moment felt fragile: you’d never had this intimacy together before. You noticed he was taking his time with you, feeling every muscle and curve of your strong back, tracing some scars scattered here and there. The alcohol and the massage were finally relaxing your tensed body, and then a moan you couldn’t stop escaped from your lips. His hands, which were working on your lower back at that moment, stopped and you could feel his entire body tense.

“Is this turning you on mesh’la?” All shyness was gone in a second, now his voice was thick with lust, a timbre you did recognize of him. His hands now had a harder grip on your back, like he needed to hold onto something. Sex with Mando was familiar ground, you felt relieved.

“Why don’t you check yourself?” Spotchka made you cheeky like that and you could hear Mando taking a heavy breath, confirming that your words had the effect you desired. Without warning, he dragged you towards his chest plate, the cold beskar biting your back while he positioned his helmet resting on your shoulder. Your heartbeat started to accelerate with anticipation. In this position, you could feel his chest rising every time: he was as worked up as you.

Painfully slow, he started to go over your outer thighs with a feathery touch with his calloused digits when then abruptly, he grabbed them and separated further making you gasp. The heat between your legs was unbearable and the thing you wanted more was for him to touch you. His grip on your inner thighs was almost painful, not that you minded, but you couldn’t stand more teasing.

“Mando, please…” You begged.

“Please what?” His fingers were now hovering over your clothed core, the fabric drenched in your slick. It wasn’t like your business partner hadn’t fingered you before, but it was always as a preparation for you to take his girth, never in this unrushed, lazy manner. Although you were going to explode from anticipation, you were loving every moment of it.

As Mando was too. The sensation of your plush skin filling his hands, your body pressing against his and dank farrik, your smell. It was driving him crazy, so much that he wanted to remove his helmet so he could appreciate the delicious smell of your wet pussy. His head was starting to spin and he couldn’t identify if it was for your fragrance or the quantity of spotchka running through his blood. He decided that the teasing was over then, and unceremoniously hooked his thumbs on your waistband and slid the piece of underwear down your legs, the soaked spot in the middle so evident it embarrassed you and turning him on even more. But he wasn’t still touching you where you needed him most. You were so done.

With your smaller hand, you grabbed his and placed it in your cunt letting go a snort and leaving Mando stunned.

“You wanted to take care of me? Then go on.” You said sassy, but your face was redder and hotter than a Sith’s lightsaber. He kriffing grunted and your breathing stopped when he finally put one of his thick fingers on your entrance to collect your slick. He amused himself at the fact that you were dripping because of him, feeling between surprised and a little proud about it. Then he started tracing lazy circles around your clit while spreading your pussy with the other hand. Mando relished himself in how soft and warm you were, imagining your flavor between his lips. In the confine of his flight suit, his cock twitched, impossibly harder. But today was about taking care of you and he was a man of his word.

His middle finger started tracing your slit up and down and you can’t help but waggle in his lap, feeling the pleasure spreading through your body. You inhaled hard when you notice the prominent bulge against your ass, growing only wetter at the sensation, and Mando could literally feel how your slick slid down your hole. While still rubbing your clit, he took advantage of the dampness to slide one finger inside, looking at that magic spot in your entrance that made your skin tingle. You moaned louder and he licked his lips under the helmet. An all-consuming desire was growing inside of him, the alcohol inside his veins whispering to him that he should indulge in his fantasy. You moan again in his arms and he’s a mess. Needs to taste you, to smell you to see your pussy drenched because of him. Every part of his body is in contact with yours, his helmet against your cheek. He’d love to bite your shoulder and mark your neck, and his need grows stronger while fantasizing about the idea.

“Mando…another finger…please.” Your voice was labored and so sexy he needs a sharp inhale to bring his brain the oxygen he needed. You were a beautiful mess. Your lips parted, cheeks red with lust and a sheer layer of sweat making your skin glow under the lights. This was nothing like taking you from behind in some cantina bathroom. He was done.

“Wait for a second mesh’la. And don’t turn around.” You nodded obediently, at this point you’d do whatever it took to be touched by The Mandalorian. Then you heard the hiss, you panicked a moment, knowing what the helmet meant for him. But inside you couldn’t deny the excitement from the anticipation about what he was going to do. Soon you had the answer. With a loud clank, he let his helmet rest between your spread thighs and then he breathed heavily, finally inhaling your sweet scent. It seemed odd to you that he didn’t choose another spot for his helmet, but then it hit you like a ton of bricks. Filthy bastard.

“Keep your legs spread for me.” His bossy tone made your pussy clench, you were used to his dry commands but in this context it made you drool. His unmodulated voice was like his hands, rough and gentle and warm at the same time, just like him. You found yourself wanting to hear more of it.

Mando’s hands traveled south once again and then he was spreading your lips, totally messy and wet. “Dank Farrik mesh’la look at you.” And you looked. The helmet, well-polished, silver beskar. His position between your legs wasn’t unintentional. You looked at your cunt at display, his large fingers caressing it like it was the most precious thing in the galaxy. You felt embarrassed and your first reflex was to close your legs. But he wasn’t having it.

“Mando, you’re shameless!” His strong hands didn’t let you close your legs but he spread them further. And when he had you like that, his fingers collected your slick determined to finally taste you. You could hear how he sinfully licked every finger and a more sinful, hoarse moan. You’d never hear him make a sound like that and it turned you to putty.

“Your cunt tastes as delicious as it looks.” Now, that was shameless. Who had imagined the reserved, soft-spoken Mandalorian had such a filthy tongue? His fingers were toying with your clit while he explored your hole with the other hand. Pleasure was filling every cell of your body and tiny moans were scaping more frequently from your lips, more aroused every second you looked at his movements reflected on the beskar surface.

“I’d love to taste you too Mando.” You teased grinding your hips on his cock, provoking a delicious sound from him.

“Another time mesh’la, I’m taking care of you today.” His voice was thick with drunkenness and desire and you couldn’t get enough of it. Then a perfect place stroke made you arch against him, leaving your neck at display for him. That delicious-looking skin was calling for him. A sharp bite startled you, provoking a loud moan from you. Even though he had removed his helmet, you didn’t expect him to use his lips on you. It looked like he was sporting a mustache and facial hair. Somewhat, it fitted the mental image you had of him and you siled internally. He continued sucking and biting all over your shoulders and neck, taking his time in your pulse point and you were a panting mess between his thighs, at this point, your slick even pooling on the floor.

His pace on your pussy was faster now, and you could feel and see how his fingers were knuckles deep in your insides, curved toward that delicious spot you could only reach with toys but he easily achieved to stroke. Dank Farrink, he did know your body. You realized he had to be paying more attention than you thought during your intercourses and that somehow made you hornier.

“Mando, I’m not gonna last much more…” Your voice was small, all your cheekiness from behind gone. You felt raw.

“That beautiful cunt’s gonna cum? Lemme see it mesh’la, give it to me.” Mando slurred as worked up and drunk as you. His words sent electricity directly to your pussy and your walls clenched against his fingers. “Kriff your body is amazing…you’re amazing.” His movements over your clit were now frantic and your vision started to blur. You succumbed to the sensation letting it hit you and then you were cuming all over Mando’s tan fingers with a loud cry of pleasure. He kept touching you until you shivered from overstimulation, dragging his fingers slowly from your puffy entrance. The vision was totally sinful. He started drawing lazy circles around your lips, caressing them. Your breath was still heavy while you came down from your high.

“Mando that was…” You didn’t have words for what had just happened.

“Do you feel better now cyar’ika?” His voice was soft again, even sleepy.

“Yeah, thank you for…taking care of me.” The alcohol and your orgasm were making your body drowsy, and you let yourself sink into his arms.

“Anytime.” He then kissed the point where your shoulder met your neck, something he hadn’t done before. You shivered at the sensation of his facial hair against your own skin and couldn’t help but smile fondly. In his odd way, he was sharing this private part of him with you and surprisingly your heart fluttered at the idea. He started then to drag his nose caressing your shoulder, it felt prominent, his mustache provoking goosebumps. You relished in his tenderness and at that moment you didn’t care anymore that this felt too intimate, wondering how it’d feel to kiss him. It was probably the spotchka why you were indulging in these thoughts and the reason you sighed like a teenager when his cheek leaned on yours. Probably tomorrow everything would be back to normal when both of you were sober, but for now, you’d let yourself enjoy how it felt to be taken care of by The Mandalorian.

[nobedofroses]

October 1st

pairing: Din Djarin x gn!reader

warnings: suspense

words: 709

a/n: decided pretty last minute to do this, but here is day 1! I would not call this kinktober but I am planning to post everyday this october with a range of different types of prompts but starting with Strange Noise from this list by @raven-cincaide-words (it's on there as day 25, but since I'm using multiple lists, everything's out of order). Excited to get started, hope you enjoy! Directory

🎃🎃🎃

It started when you were asleep. The sound woke you slowly at first. You stirred out of a dream that involved a strange creature in the distance, moving and making a sound. A sound that sounded vaguely familiar but that you couldn’t place. 

Then you woke and the sound was still there. It startled you. You weren’t used to unidentifiable sounds in the little structure that you, Din, and Grogu were living in. It was small enough that you were familiar with every single sight, feel, smell, and sound in it. But not this one. 

Heart beating quicker, you reached out for Din in the dark. His strong arm was warm under your hand and you squeezed it a couple times, wanting him to wake quickly but quietly, just in case. 

Din woke up quicker than you. He always did after years hunting and never letting his guard completely down. Normally, you were glad that he felt like he could with you and Grogu, able to even remove his armor for comfort like sleep. But now you wanted the hunter, the man that would protect you and Grogu from anything that could come your way. 

“What is it?” Din asked, moving close so he didn’t have to speak above a whisper. 

“Do you hear that?” you paused, letting him listen. 

You couldn’t see his face in the dark, but you could picture his expression. Brows furrowed, eyes squinting in concentration, and the firm line of his mouth. 

“It’s inside. Clearly it doesn’t know we’re here or it would be less loud. I’ll take care of it,” Din told you, shifting slowly to grab his helmet on the bedside table. Always there, security and safety in one gleaming piece of beskar. 

In seconds, Din was walking through the doorway with helmet and gauntlets on. You were standing as well, planning to walk behind Din to Grogu’s room so you could ensure the little one’s safety. Behind Din so he could act as your shield. His words. 

The two of you parted in the hallway and you rushed into Grogu’s room as Din rushed to the noise. As your eyes fell to the empty little bed, your heart fell out of your chest as you finally realized what the sound had been. Eating. 

One second before you fell to your knees in despair, Din’s voice called out, “He’s in here!” 

You were in the kitchen the very next second, ready to do anything to save Grogu. But a very different, much less devastating sight was before you than you expected. 

Grogu was standing, completely unharmed, in front of the conservator and surrounded by half eaten and strewn-about food. He must have had a bite of everything you had in there. He was covered in something sticky and the crumbs that had stuck to that, but none of that mattered as you scooped him up into your arms and hugged him close. 

“Oh thank goodness you’re okay,” you breathed, heart rate slowing down for the first time in several minutes. 

“He’s covered in food. He ate everything,” Din countered, although his tone was more tired than frustrated. 

“You must be going through a growth spurt, huh? Are you still hungry or should we clean you up and get back to bed?” you asked the little green child blinking up at you. 

He made one of his cooing sounds and you knew it was a sleepy one. So you said, “Alright, a quick wash-up right after you move all this stuff to the waste bins. Din, I can take care of him if you want to go back to sleep.” 

Grogu waved a hand over your shoulder, moving everything to the correct bin in seconds. Din watched the movement before responding, “No, I’ll do a security check then join you.” 

You nodded with a small smile, knowing that even something harmless like this set off his protective instinct and let him do what would help him go back to sleep peacefully while you did what would help you. You turned your attention back to Grogu, “Let’s get you cleaned up. And while we do, we can talk about what you should do if you get hungry in the middle of the night again.”

🎃🎃🎃

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Family - Din Djarin X GN Reader

Title: Family

Din Djarin X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Grogu

Drabble

WC: 500

Warnings: Maybe a bit bittersweet

You hummed softly as you held Grogu in your lap, letting his little grabby hands pull at your hair, making a mess of the strands that you had brushed earlier. You smiled as he giggled happily when he managed to grab a handful, twisting it around his little fingers. "Will you miss us?" You asked the child, who squeaked in return looking up at you with his big eyes. You nodded, smiling sadly, "Silly of me to ask that. Of course, you will." He cooed softly at that, reaching out to place his little hands on your cheeks. 

His little fingers were soft against your cheek. You were going to miss him so much. He was like your own son. No, he was your son. He was your baby. He was yours and Din's baby. You were both going to miss him so much. You would miss his smile, his laugh, his cute little noises, his cuddles, kisses, and his hugs. Even if you and Din were able to visit... It didn't matter, because you already missed him so much. 

He looked up at you, his large eyes shimmering with tears. His little lip quivered slightly but he kept them at bay. He couldn’t cry now. Not in front of you. If he cried, you would start crying. And then you wouldn't be able to stop. Grogu waddled closer to your lap, resting his head on your chest as you wrapped your hands around him, leaning down to nuzzle your face into his head gently.

Din watched after he climbed down the ladder, pausing at the beautiful scene before him. His family. You hold his son close, his son holding tightly onto his shirt, his son looking up at you with those big eyes. Din felt his heart clench in his chest, the overbearing weight of knowing he'd have to leave his son behind settling heavily on his shoulders. He shook his head, trying to clear away the dark thoughts clouding his mind. The last thing they needed right now was another sad moment. He needed to focus on the positive, that is, how happy you two looked and to enjoy the time he did have with Grogu.

Din wandered over, standing close beside you as he placed a warm hand on Grogu's back, making him babble. Din turned to you, his brown eyes soft. "What did he say?" He asked you as you continued to smile.

"Grogu said he misses you. You've been gone for a while." You answered, and Din hummed, turning back to his son.

"I've been charting our course, we'll arrive in two cycles." He explained to you, and you hummed in response.

"At least we'll have two more cycles together." You smiled, as Grogu reached out to Din, who immediately took him in his arms, cradling him securely against himself.

“Yes,” Din spoke up softly, peering down at Grogu with a small smile. “We will.” You simply smiled back, resting your head on Din’s shoulder.

[iamsherlocked-1998]

IMAGINE ☁️

Warning: Description of wounds, just something soft.

❁ ════ DIN DJARIN ════ ❁

Din is seriously injured on a mission for the New Republic and must rest for a long period of time. Even though the Mandalorian is stubborn, you take care of him at home in Nevarro. When his wounds heal, he needs to regain his former fitness so he asks you to train together in hand-to-hand combat. Despite his condition he still wins most of the rounds but you are able to exert some resistance and hold your own, which you are very proud of.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

That Unspoken Thing

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: You and Din have this unspoken thing. You're attracted to his leadership, compassion, care, and strength. He's attracted to your assertiveness, passion, wit, and gentleness. He also likes your firey attitude, albeit it does get you guys into trouble a lot. Based off my imagine here.

Warning: mentions of drowning and

Water. You hated the water. You'll wade it in and drink it. But you would never sail in it...until now.

Din was following a bounty and, to be fair, he did warn you about where the disk was leading him. But you, stubborn as ever, still insisted that you and Grogu follow him.

Now you're on a boat holding onto it for dear life, hoping to whatever beings above that the boat won't topple over and you'd end up in the water.

The fisherman was nice enough to let the three of you on his boat to head to the island where the bounty was supposedly hidden. You couldn't fly to the island because, whoever this bounty was, was skilled enough to send out a signal to shut off any craft flying towards the island. Boats were the safest bet.

A blanket gets draped over you and you look up to see Din staring down at you. You gesture to the fabric, "What's this for?"

"You were shaking like a leaf, cyar'ika. Figured you'd want something to keep you warm." Cyar'ika. He's been calling you that a lot more lately. You asked him what it means and he told you it meant 'close friend' but you're not sure he's fully telling you the truth. When you see Bo again, you'll have to ask her what it means.

You scoff, "Thanks, but I'm not shaking because of the cold. I'm actually sweating like a bantha on Tattooine."

"What's wrong?" you hear the immediate concern in his tone. If you could see his face, you imagine his brows are furrowing right now.

You've always wondered how he'd look. Apparently, he's already had to take off his helmet a few times in the past, but that was before he knew you. You wonder if he would ever take off his helmet for you. It's not like you would ask him to. You respect him and his code. But you can't help but wonder...

"Hey? You with me?" you look back up to see Din standing closer to you, "What's going on?"

You sigh, "Just never been fond of the water. It's dangerous, there's a lot of unknown stuff down there. Plus, I can't swim so I won't survive long if I fall in."

Din's head falls forward and he shakes his head, "If you can't swim, why did you come with me on this bounty?"

"Someone's gotta watch your back! Right, kid?" you look to Grogu and he nods, "See! He agrees with me!"

Din gives another shake of disapproval, "You shouldn't put your life in danger like this. I'm not worth it."

"Of course you are, and you put yourself in danger for us all the time. Someone needs to take care of you too, Din." You look at his visor, hoping that you're staring into his eyes and you're silently telling him how much you care for him.

"Brace yourselves! We've got some pirates headed our way!" the fisherman yelled.

"Pirates?!" you stand up in disbelief.

You rush up to the fisherman who's trying to speed the boat up, "What do they want?"

"Anything we may have valuable."

Din appears at your side with Grogu in his arms, "Take Grogu and go below."

"What? No! We can help!"

"Do as I say and go!" he hands you Grogu and pulls out his blaster. With his jetpack, he's in the air, firing shots at the oncoming pirates.

You look down at the little one in your arm and he's looking back up at you with concern, "We're helping him." You set him down on a crate and pull your own blaster and knife out.

A group of them are piling onto the boat and you're firing off your blaster. You look over your shoulder to see the fisherman also came prepared with a blaster of his own.

When you turn back around, you see a Rodian headed towards you. You run in its direction as well, immediately jumping and kick it with all of your might. You two fall back and you swiftly get up, kicking it in the head to knock it out.

You're immediately grabbed from behind and they're a lot bigger than you.

You're kicking and yelling. Your hand goes to your holster and your blaster isn't there. You see it on the ground, too far away for you to get.

You stomp the the creature's foot, causing it to howl in pain. You're released from its hold and you yell in triumph, "Take that, you brute!" In anger, the creature marches back towards you, picks you up, and throws you overboard.

Once you hit the water, you're done for. You're flailing your arms in a panic. You're swallowing water. You hear the sounds of blasters firing off in the distance. Your heart is pounding in your chest.

You get tired quickly and the waves of the water are too powerful.

You find yourself sinking. The surface of the water moving farther and farther away.

This is it. This is how you die.

You see something else enter the water. It's probably a pirate.

You hope that Grogu and Din are safe at least. You close your eyes and accept your fate.

__________________

Din saw you get thrown overboard and his heart sunk. You can't swim.

Adrenaline hits him tenfold and he's able to immobilize the last bit of pirates left. They're either unconscious or thrown overboard.

With his jetpack, Din dives into the water where you landed and he spots you immediately. He grabs onto your hand and pulls you into his arms. The jetpack doesn't do well under water but it has enough power to bring the two of you to the surface.

The fisherman throws down a rope and Din holds onto it with one hand and you with the other. With Grogu's help via the Force, the two of them manage to pull you and Din back onto the boat with no problem.

Once back up, Din immediately lays you on your back, leaning in to listen for you breathing. You weren't.

He didn't give a second thought as he immediately took off his helmet and proceeded with mouth to mouth.

"Come on, come on!" he cries out as he breaths into your mouth and pumps down onto your chest, "Wake up, please. Please, cyar'ika!" Beloved. You were his beloved and he can't lose you. Not now. Not when he hasn't even told you how he felt.

You can't give up on him now. You two had gone through so much together. You were there for him during the period where Grogu was away. You watched his back. You care for him and he cared for you. Kriff, did he care for you so much. You were there and if you're not there anymore...he doesn't know what he'll do.

You suddenly spit up water and your eyes are open. They're wide with shock and a little bit of fear as you're coughing and gasping for air. Din couldn't help but give a breath of relief.

"Hey, hey. It's okay, cyar'ika. You're okay. You're safe now."

You look up at the man reassuring you. He has stubble on his face, brown eyes and brown hair with some grey littered in it. You try to register who this man is. When you open your mouth to speak, the first thing you say is, "Who the hell are you?!"

Din can't help but chuckle at your reaction, "It's me, cyar'ika." Even after nearly drowning, you still have that attitude of yours.

Your eyes widen in surprise, "Wait, Din?"

You reach out, but hesitate. With a gloved hand, Din brings your hand to his cheek. You can't help but gasp. His skin was warm, you feel the prickle of his stubble against your palm.

"Wow. It's you," you say in disbelief, "You're not ugly at all."

Din's brows furrowed in confusion, "You imagined me ugly?"

"No, I mean, you said you didn't think you were much to look at, but I highly disagree."

Din playfully rolls his eyes, "Well you're clearly fine." He goes to reach for his helmet but you stop him, "Wait. Lemme-Lemme just look at you for a little longer." You sit up and hold his face in both your hands. His eyes flutter shut as your fingers begin to trace over his jaw, his nose, his brow. He feels his face heat up from this. Your touch is gentle and soft. This is so...intimate.

He suddenly feels your forehead pressing against his. His heart starts to flutter. He knows you know what this means. He told you himself what it means after seeing a few mandalorians do it themselves.

You lean back, eyes open and staring at Din. His breathing is heavy now. He's so overwhelmed with what just happened, this mind flooded with you.

"Cyar'ika, I-"

"It's okay. I know." You reach down and grab his helmet, "Thank you, for saving me." You press a kiss to his helmet and hold it out for him.

"Always," he says with a nod, his eyes soft, but you know, you know what he means.

He promptly slips the helmet back on and stands, helping you up on your feet as well.

You sigh and glance at Grogu, "So much for helping him, I guess," you give a shrug and proceed to help the fisherman toss off any incapacitated pirates that were left on his ship.

[reaperofmen]

Okay so i can't stop thinking about the mistletoe kiss prompt with din...like whatever planet they're on has the same tradition. Ur there at the holiday time and see couples/people kissing all over the place and din aches to see you all lit up as you take in the sparkling lights and cheer and he's never quite been willing to risk it all as he is right now, every time you pass a sprig of space mistletoe that's even the slightest bit out of view of people. Anyway when you get back to the ship he suddenly take out a sprig and holds it above you and ur like ??? Oho, now you want to be cheerful 😏😏

Thank you for the request, love!! I had way too much fun writing a winter holiday fic in the middle of the summer?? I hope you like it ❤️

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader Rating: T Word Count: 2.2k Warnings: unapologetic fluff, the lightest spice

You were only here because you had worn Mando down with sheer persistence. You’d wheedled and charmed—he’d probably say annoyed—him for several hours as you tracked, captured, and walked the bounty back to the Crest together. And he’d finally grunted, “Fine.”

That one gruff word made you smile, though, because coaxing him to do what you wanted was getting noticeably easier, and that made your heart flutter with reckless hope.

Honestly, he’d been almost indulgent recently, by his standards at least. Mando—who had always been single-minded when it came to jobs—had started to go out of his way to give you what you wanted, even if it put you a few hours off your tight schedule. You noted every tiny change, every little concession he made for your happiness.

A few weeks ago, he stopped a hunt early when you mentioned off-hand that you had a headache. Despite your reassurances that you were fine, he brooked no argument, insisting that it would make no difference to apprehend the quarry the following day.

Every meal, he tossed you your favorite ration pack out of the choices on hand—because by this point, he knew your tastes by heart.

He told you to keep the black long-sleeved shirt he lent you one night when you really needed to do laundry. You remarked on how soft and cozy it was, and when you tried to return it, he’d said, “Keep it.” You were pretty sure he liked when you wore it around the ship before bed. His gaze lingered. It burned.

Mando’s softness had started to show, and—what was even better—this side of him seemed only available to you. He was the same cold, hard Mandalorian to everyone else. Whether he liked it or not, it seemed that you were slowly seeping into the vulnerable spaces between his armor, insinuating yourself into the heart of the man underneath. You were starting to suspect that you were his weakness... and fuck if that fact alone didn’t make you weak for him.

Your influence only extended so far, however.

He was here—at the local winter festival of the planet you were hunting on—but he wasn’t happy about it. No, he stood out amidst all the cheer and merriment, a stiff silver statue with his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his beskar awash with a rainbow of flickering reflections.

The festival was an enchanting dream around him. The narrow street was lined with stalls selling baked treats and warm drinks and colorful gifts. Strings of blinking lights were wrapped around every streetlight and crisscrossed over your heads; multicolored ribbons and sparkling stars bedecked every doorway, windowsill, and kiosk. The delicious scents of cinnamon, vanilla, and cardamom laced the cool evening air. The music was joyful and upbeat, the festive atmosphere buzzing with warmth and excitement. All the revelers were wrapped up against the chill of the evening in colorful knitted sweaters, scarves, and mittens, tromping through the light dusting of snow. Couples walked by, hand-in-hand, smiling dopily at each other. Everything glittered with the lightest dusting of fresh powder, and children were gathering the fallen snow on the ground and pelting each other with snowballs, zipping between harried looking adults.

It was almost comical how out of place Mando looked surrounded by all of that. He was being his usual withholding self, standing off to the side while you perused the stalls of the local artisans and bought a warm, sugary drink and a cookie the size of your face. He never let you out of his sight, however, always within arm’s reach. He’d confirm your presence every so often with a hand on your shoulder or back as you walked next to him. You weren’t sure if it was to make him feel better or to make you feel better in the tight press of the crowd—either way, you liked it.

You were warm and happy—delighting in the joyful spirit of the holiday, but more importantly, in the knowledge that Mando had a soft spot for you.

As you meandered down the busy street, you noticed that above every doorway or stone archway, a little bunch of leaves was hung. You assumed they were purely decorative until you saw couple after couple of all shapes and sizes walk under one of those sprigs, look up, smile, and kiss.

After the fifth couple, you stopped and turned to Mando to say, “I guess it’s a tradition.”

Mando stood there, the stern lines of his visor fixed on the two women kissing sweetly under a stone archway and said, “Guess so.”

“That’s so cute!” You beamed as you watched them.

The snowy evergreen forest that bordered the town made for an idyllic backdrop behind them. As if on cue, tiny flakes of snow started falling softly, completing the dreamy picture before you. You squealed in pure joy at the adorable sight, clasping your hands together.

Mando laughed beside you, a warm chuckle crackling through his modulator. When you looked up at him, you saw that his visor was trained on your face, no longer on the couple.

“Mando! Look at you getting into the spirit,” you teased, poking his arm playfully.

He cocked his head at you, his voice laced with amusement as he said, “I watched you break a man’s arm this morning, and now you’re squealing at two people kissing in the snow. I’m experiencing some whiplash.”

“I contain multitudes, Mando,” you laughed.

“Clearly.”

“Come on,” you said with a grin, pulling him along, “I want to see the rest.”

From then on, your stomach swooped a little each time you walked under a decorated archway with Mando by your side. You couldn’t help but wonder if he was also thinking about kissing you each time you passed under one of those little sprigs.

Probably. Yes. No. Definitely not.

...Maybe?

As you walked down the long, winding street, it gradually started snowing harder, and the wind picked up. When the downpour shifted suddenly to an icy sleet, all the revelers around you exclaimed and scurried to find shelter from the deluge. Mando grabbed your hand and pulled you into a recessed doorway and right away, you looked up. You couldn’t help yourself—you knew it would be there. Sure enough, a little bunch of greenery was suspended over your heads.

You looked down quickly, too quickly, hoping Mando wouldn’t look up and notice it too. You didn’t want him to feel weird about it...but of course, he noticed it—he tilted his helmet up to inspect it for a moment. To your surprise, when he looked back down at you, he stepped toward you. Your heart dropped. He reached a gloved hand toward your face, and you held your breath, smiling up uncertainly at him. For one insane second, you thought he was going to lift his helmet right there in the privacy of this little alcove and kiss you.

Instead of cupping your cheek, however, he brushed the tips of his gloved fingers over your hair.

“Snow,” he explained, dusting it off.

“Oh, thanks,” you replied, trying not to let disappointment seep into your words.

You stood in awkward silence, waiting for the gale to pass. Luckily, just a few minutes later, the gusts of wind quieted, the snow slowing again to a light sprinkle of powder.

“Shall we?”

He nodded and followed you into the steady stream of people reemerging from under doorways and awnings. You wandered over to another promising looking dessert stand, Mando in toe, and examined the baked goods laid out before you. You made your purchase and thanked the vendor, but when you turned, Mando wasn’t behind you anymore.

You whipped your head around, looking for his tall, shiny form amidst the throngs of people. The smallest tendril of panic twined around your heart. His sudden absence underscored the fact that he never let you out of his sight when you were together in public.

You turned around again, and he was there.

“Where—”

He made no mention of his disappearance, instead interrupting you to ask, “Ready to go?”

“Wha—oh yeah, we can go,” you replied, adding good-naturedly, “You have been very patient, and I know this has been torture for you... so even though I want to stay here forever, we can leave.”

He tilted his helmet sassily at you, then turned on his heel and walked in the direction of the Razor Crest. You chuckled, finishing your treat as you trailed after him.

When you reached the edge of town, leaving behind the crowds of people as you entered the quiet forest, you squatted and scraped together some of the freshly fallen snow. You packed it into a compact ball and held it behind your back until you and Mando were within sight of the Razor Crest. Grinning, you hurried forward until you were only a few steps behind him and cocked your arm, tossing it straight at the back of his helmet. It hit him with a muted slush sound, and he stopped in his tracks. You froze, the biggest, guiltiest smile on your face as you watched snow slide down the back of his helmet and drop onto his cape.

He turned slowly.

“...Oops?” you said, wringing your hands together in mock contrition.

He perched his hands on his hips. You couldn’t hear it from this short distance but you could tell by the way his shoulders dropped that he’d let out a dramatic sigh.

You threw your hands up. “It’s part of the festivities, Mando—a tradition—I had to throw a snowball to round out the celebration.”

“Well, you asked for it.”

Your smile faltered when he bent down to scrape together his own snowball. Uh oh. You spun around and took off at a run across the clearing, heading toward the trees to find cover. You screeched when his snowball hit you square between the shoulder blades. Of course he’d have perfect aim. You smiled when you heard his muted chuckle behind you.

You ducked behind a thick trunk and crouched down to pat together another snowball—much larger this time. You straightened and peeked your head around the tree, but Mando was nowhere to be seen. Shit. You backed up slowly, retreating further into the forest as quietly as possible as you scanned the area for movement.

You whipped around just as a silver blur sprinted up behind you and shrieked when Mando wrapped two strong arms around you, pinning your own arms to your sides.

“Drop it.”

You giggled and released the snowball; it fell to the ground with a muffled whump.

“Surrender,” he growled, adopting his serious bounty hunter voice.

Heat unapologetically surged in your belly at the intimate sound of his voice so close to your ear and the feeling of his body pressed tightly to your back. “And what if I refuse?”

“I’ll show you no mercy.”

You grinned. “Do your worst, Mando.”

In one quick movement, he released you from his embrace and bent to catch your knees and back to sweep you up into his arms.

You laughed, wrapping an arm around his neck: “This is showing me no mercy?”

He started toward the Crest, looking down at your face to say: “I mean, did you want me to bring you in cold? That’s your only other option.”

Holding you even closer to his chest, he jostled you slightly as he pressed a button on his vambrace, and the ramp lowered as you approached.

“You would never! You’d have no one to go to winter festivals with if you killed me! And I know how much you love celebrations and cheer and fanfare.”

He scoffed. “You’d be surprised. I liked some parts of it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yes.”

He walked up the ramp and into the hull.

You smiled up at him expectantly, eager to watch him scramble for a reply: “Okay, which parts?”

“I’ll show you.” He leaned down to set you on your feet, slapping the control behind him to shut the ramp.

You rolled your eyes, sure he had nothing: “Okay, then, show me.”

Gloved fingers circled your wrist, tugging you toward him until you were only a few inches from his armored chest. You looked up at the black void of his glass visor, your bewildered expression reflected back at you.

“Close your eyes for me.”

“How are you going to show me if my eyes are closed?”

He reached into a pouch on his belt and pulled something small out of it. When he opened his hand, you saw that it was one of the bundles of that mystery plant from the festival. He held it up so it was suspended between you, above your head. Your eyes widened.

“Where did you—?”

“Close your eyes.”

Your lashes fluttered closed immediately this time. A gasp escaped your lips when you heard the hiss of his helmet’s release.

You felt the ghost of his breath first, warm as it fanned over your face. He was waiting, giving you the chance to move away if you wanted to. You stayed put, the corner of your mouth twitching up in a smile. Just when you were about to lose patience and blindly reach out for him, he pressed his lips to yours tentatively, still gauging your reaction. As soon as he felt you respond, kissing him back eagerly, he wrapped his arms around your waist and drew you close. Your hands found their way around his neck, and you deepened the kiss, parting your lips.

He pulled back a tiny bit to whisper: “I like this part.”

***

Part 2

***

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[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three Pride Special 2024

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Pride Special 2024

            “What’s going on there?” asked (Y/N) as they, Mando, and Bo-Katan walked through the streets of a planet that they were meeting with for trade deals with Mandalore.

            “It looks to be some kind of festival,” said Bo-Katan, glancing off to the side.

            (Y/N) watched curiously as the festival continued. There were people dancing to music and holding up banners of every color possible. One sign read “Pride in who I am,” and something in (Y/N)’s heart ached at the word.

            They knew they were different than others—alone in a universe full of cultures. Ushti had been destroyed, ravaged by the Empire. (Y/N) had no family or home left there. And now at Mandalore, they were forced to recognize (often) that they had not been born Mandalorian and so didn’t understand or connect to the other children as much as they wanted to. (Y/N) tried, and, since they had their Buir and had been literally chosen by Mandalore the Great for…something. So, yes, they belonged.

            But they were also force-sensitive, had nearly become a jedi, and that would have made them an enemy of Mandalorians. Of course, they also had less of a gendered identity as others, and that sometimes made them feel different. So, between all the cultures, abilities, and identities they held, sometimes (Y/N) felt very separate from people—as if they did belong in any one place.

            It had worked out, and (Y/N) had a great family and bonds, but sometimes…sometimes they wondered if who they were was too fractured. They were just a teenager, after all. Their sense of self wasn’t complete, and they were still learning to be comfortable in their own skin.

            “Huh…” said (Y/N), forcing themself to look away and focus on the walk towards the council chambers. They and Mando would be backing up Bo-Katan in preliminary discussions. So, (Y/N) had no time to doubt themself. They needed to focus.

            “Are you alright, Verd’ika?” asked Mando. Grogu babbled in his arms.

            “I’m fine,” said (Y/N), nodding. “Just tired of treaty-making already.”

            “We haven’t even started,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Exactly,” said (Y/N).

            Bo-Katan chuckled in amusement, and Mando shook his head fondly. Both adults knew that, despite (Y/N)’s aptitude (and desire) for fights, they were surprisingly skilled at speaking with people, too. Not a lot of the time, but when Bo-Katan had them around in council meetings or discussions for treaties, (Y/N) would run their mouth and go through anger, annoyance, and then helpfulness (accidentally).

            After everything with the Darksaber and (Y/N)’s visions of Mandalore the Great, Bo-Katan and Mando had come to the conclusion that (Y/N) was suited to helping others. The world seemed to want them to, and (Y/N) was good at it.

            Neither would push (Y/N) into leading or trying to make them take on more responsibility, but they both knew it. Mando in particular had seen that (Y/N) had strength and the force (literally, the Force) to fight for what they cared about, and he, although lacking force-sensitivity, felt something lay within them that would make them an impressive Mandalorian—even more than they already were.

            But, again, Mando would never push them towards anything. That was his kid. He wasn’t going to push (Y/N) into anything they weren’t capable of, and they had already been through so much, so Mando would be damned before someone hurt what little childhood and safety he could offer his ad’ika.

            And if they seemed interested in a festival in the middle of debates for treaties? Mando would make sure they had a moment to have fun instead of being stuck in politics.

            Mando would make sure (Y/N) had the joyful moments they deserved.

l

            “So, we’re in accordance?” said Bo-Katan, smiling pleasantly as she leaned back in her chair. Across the table, the council members of the planet nodded.

            “Yes, the terms of trade are favorable. We are pleased to have Mandalore back, and, these terms will be upheld should you start producing materials for trade once more,” said a council member.

            “Good,” said Bo-Katan, rising. She shook the council members’ hands.

            Mando didn’t move from where he stood as a guard in shining beskar. It would be more intimidating if not for the little green child riding on his shoulder. However, he was helped by the teenager by his side, harsh marking around their eyes as they glowered at everyone who had tried to get more out of the trading agreement then was fair ((Y/N) always caught those types of people, and it was yet another reason Bo-Katan and Mando were proud of them).

            “If you have any time, you should stay for the festival,” said one council member, one of the ones that had actually been helpful. “It is quite nice, and after business, it is a nice break.”

            “What is it about?” asked Mando.

            “It is a Pride festival to celebrate our people’s struggles centuries ago against bigotry due to sexuality or gender,” explained the councilor, smiling. “It is to celebrate being ourselves.”

            “We’ll consider it,” said Bo-Katan. “Thank you for meeting with us.” She walked out of the room with Mando, Grogu, and (Y/N).

            “Verd’ika do you want to go?” asked Mando as they walked.

            (Y/N) glanced at him. “I don’t care.”

            “We’re going,” said Mando firmly. He knew (Y/N) had been interested, so he was taking them to it.

            “I didn’t know you were queer,” said Bo-Katan.

            “I don’t label myself,” said Mando as they turned through the streets towards the swell of music.

            Bo-Katan nodded in understanding. “I’m bisexual.” She glanced at (Y/N). “What about you, kid?”

            “I don’t label my sexuality,” said (Y/N). “I don’t really know what it is. But I’m nonbinary.”

            “Then we all have something to celebrate,” said Bo-Katan. She spotted a stand with some food. “Have fun. We’ll meet back at the ship in an hour.” She walked to get herself some food, and Mando and (Y/N) were left alone.

            (Y/N) watched the people dancing and marching down the street, and Mando looked at them.

            “You should join them. You should be proud of yourself,” said Mando.

            “I’m not insecure about my gender identity,” said (Y/N), shaking their head. “I’ve never had an issue with that.”

            “You should be proud of your entire identity,” said Mando. “You’ve been very strong over the years. You should remember that. You fought to be here today.”

            (Y/N)’s heart clenched, and they shrugged half-heartedly. “Yeah, but I don’t really belong here. I didn’t fight for their rights. Besides, I’m not from this planet. I’m Ushti. And Mandalorian. And…I’m a lot.”

            “You don’t have to be one thing,” said Mando.

            (Y/N) glanced at him. “Yeah, but I’m a lot.”

            “That’s fine,” said Mando. “You’re a good kid. You’re my kid. And I’m proud of who you are. All of who you are.”

            (Y/N) couldn’t help but smile. “Even if I’m Ushti and force-sensitive and Mandalorian and trouble?”

            “I wouldn’t want you to change who you are,” said Mando. “You wouldn’t be my verd’ika if you weren’t.”

            (Y/N) smiled widely. “Thanks, Buir.” They stepped towards the crowd of celebrators.

            Mando watched them go. They had grown so much, and they still had so much longer to go. One day, they were going to be someone incredible. Actually, (Y/N) already was. But Mando was glad they weren’t grown up yet. They deserved to just exist and be happy with who they were in the present, first. The future would come, but it wasn’t there today.

            Today, (Y/N) was (Y/N). And that was enough.

Taglist:

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[lady-pug]

In Sickness And In Health - In Health

Summary: Whatever the kid had has now passed onto you. You feel kriffing awful but keep on working because you feel like you have to pull your weight around the ship, making Din worry. If only you’d let him take care of you.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader

Word count: 3,3k

Warnings: description of sickness (no throwing up this time tho)

Notes: the sequel! this one is kinda self indulgent, I wish I had a Din for myself to take care of me whenever I'm sick. I hope you enjoy this one!

Reader’s gender not specified.

Next part | Previous part | Masterlist | Read on AO3

You should have known this would happen. It was pretty obvious really, it was bound to happen no matter how hard you tried to prevent it.

After you and the kid had fully rested, the baby was incredibly clingy towards you. One look at your injured forearms and he had started whimpering, his large eyes glossy as he nuzzled into your arms. While you couldn’t understand what he was saying, you could only guess he felt guilty about hurting you. 

“Oh, love. It’s not your fault.” you tried reassuring him as best as you could, but he only snuggled closer to you, much to Din’s amusement.

Speaking of which, once you had woken up, Din had explained what he had found while out. Apparently the man he had agreed to meet had scammed him in exchange for help on something? But you had to admit that the idea he had gotten out of it, his plan to search for other mandalorians, was actually quite a good start. So he set course to this backwater planet in the Outer Rim, notorious for housing mandalorian bounty hunters on occasion.

The first leg of the trip was spent in relative peace. The kid was still a little weak after being ill so he was a lot less active than usual (which was a nice change from having to chase him around the hull all the time). After a quick stop to visit the market and buy some fresh food and restock on medical supplies, you were off again.

Which led you to today. As you went to bed the ‘night’ before you were already feeling… weird. Slightly more tired than usual, especially considering you didn’t do anything that could have worn you out that much. And today… well you felt like you had been run over by a Jawa sandcrawler. Your whole body was sore, aching all over, your throat felt scratchy, there was an annoying pressure behind your eyes, your skull felt like it was filled with cotton, and you were hearing funny, as if you were underwater. 

Dragging yourself out of your cot and up the cockpit required a lot more strength than usual, and you almost gave up, tempted to go back to sleep, but quickly reminded yourself that you had tasks you had to do, and the kid to look after as well.

Finally making your way inside the cockpit where Din was piloting the Crest, you all but fell on the copilot seat. He turned slightly sideways in his seat to signal he was listening.

“How long until we get there?” you tried to say without wavering, but something in your voice must have given away that you weren’t feeling great, as he turned fully towards you.

“Are you okay?” he asked after a moment.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” you were most definitely not fine, but were not about to let him know just yet “Why?”

“I don’t know. You just sound… off.” he paused “And you don’t look so good.”

“Gee, Mando, thanks.” you answered, sarcasm dripping from your tone, before shifting back to a more neutral expression “I’m fine, Din. Really. Just feeling tired, didn’t sleep all that well.”

You hoped he would drop it and leave it at that. Your sore throat was starting to burn a little from so much talking. 

“Why don’t you take a nap? Restore your energy?”

Ever the gentleman, you thought, your heart fluttering in your chest from how concerned he sounded about you.

“I can’t.” you sighed “Lots of things to do.”

“I can handle the repairs and look after the kid so you can rest.”

This man, this kriffing perfect, beskar covered man was here, offering to do your job just so you could rest. If you weren’t already feeling more warm than usual you were sure your cheeks would have flushed at that. And his offer was oh so tempting, you wanted nothing more than to just crawl back under the covers and let sleep overtake you. But you had work to do. You already felt like you weren’t pulling your weight enough, ever since the kid started getting better, as Din had done most of your chores while you were out. Not only did he come back very tired after hunting down the information, he also picked up your slack. And here he was offering to do it all over again.

“It’s fine. I’m gonna wake the kid up and we’ll have breakfast together. I’m sure I’ll feel as good as new after a fresh cup of caf.”

As you turned to leave the cockpit you missed the way he kept his visor trained on you as you retreated back into the hull, nor did you see the look of concern directed your way from under the helmet.

As it turned out, you did not, in fact, feel ‘as good as new’ after breakfast. If anything you somehow felt worse: the caf you drank upsetting your already uneasy stomach even further. The kid, none the wiser to your current predicament, was happy to sit down and doodle after eating. You were thankful that he didn’t seem to be up to too much trouble today, as you certainly didn’t have the energy to look after him if he did decide to wreak havoc on the ship like he usually did, and got to work.

Although most of the things you had to do were small repairs around the ship, there were lots of them. And on top of that you also had to do the inventory of the things you and Din had bought on the last stop. You worked at a slower pace than usual, occasionally taking small breaks to deal with a coughing or sneezing fit.

At one point you started feeling progressively colder, shivering no matter how many layers of clothing you put on, even though you were dripping with sweat. You must have a fever. The kid doodles away while you try to focus on the task at-hand. You need to finish your chores. Logically and realistically, you knew it was just the fever talking, but you couldn’t help but feel like you were burdening Din. And the very last thing you wanted was to disappoint him.

You were just finishing the last of the repairs for the day, having taken a considerably longer amount of time to get it all done, and were mentally preparing yourself to get started on the inventory when you heard the familiar clanking sound of steps climbing down the leader from the cockpit.

“How are you feeling?”

“Better.” you lied nasally from how stuffy your nose felt, not sounding very convincing not even to yourself.

He sighed.

“Cyar’ika…”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you lying to me?”

“What do you mean?” you tried forcing a smile but failing “I feel perfectly fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” he started, a twinge of annoyance permeating his voice “You don’t sound fine. And” he tapped something on the side of your helmet before looking back at you “your core temperature is elevated. What’s going on?”

You sighed, realizing your attempts at hiding how you were feeling were pointless as he could read you almost like an open book.

“I think I caught whatever the kid had the other day.” you averted your gaze, feeling slightly like a kid getting scolded after being caught doing something they shouldn’t “I don’t feel really good.”

His shoulders slumped, as if he was relieved.

“Why don’t you go take a nap while I make you some soup? We have all those fresh vegetables that we bought, it should do the trick.”

You wanted to take him up on it.

“I can’t.”

“Why not?” 

“I still have some things to get done with.”

“Let me handle whatever you have left to do.” he said, raising his voice just a fraction.

“No, I have to finish the work.” you insisted. 

“Why are you so adamant on getting work done when you feel bad?” his annoyed tone was back.

“Because!” you snapped, your throat screaming in agony as you did so “I haven’t been able to keep up with the work lately. If I can’t even do my job right, what is even the point of you keeping me around?!”

Din reeled as if you had slapped him.

“You really think so little of me?” he asked in a small voice.

You visibly deflated. 

“I-I’m sorry, Din.” you stammered “That’s not what I- I just-”

He placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I keep you around because I enjoy your company. Because I like having you around.” he said softly.

You smiled softly at him, feeling somewhat relieved, even though you knew that all along. 

“Thanks, Din.” your voice came out even more scratchy than before “I mean it. I enjoy your company too.”

He squeezed your shoulder reassuringly once before dropping his hand.

“Why don’t you take that nap now? I’ll wake you up in a bit with something for you to eat.”

You nodded slowly, your limbs heavy and your headache a bit worse.

“Let me take care of you.” 

Even in your weak state, something in the way he said it made your heart speed up, pounding like it was going to beat out of your chest, and heat spread through your entire body. 

“Okay.”

You started making your way to your cot when Din grabbed your arm and started steering you towards his own bunk.

“But Din-”

“Please.” he cut you off.

You sighed half-heartedly but let him lead you there, snuggling into his slightly uncomfortable mattress. You felt a comforting clench in your chest when he laid the covers over your form, practically tucking you in.

“Get some sleep. I’ll wake you up in a bit with some food.”

You barely nodded in response, already drifting off to sleep.

Din was worried about you. If he had to admit it, worried would be an understatement. He could see right through you when you said you were feeling fine earlier, you looked anything but fine, he could hear it in your voice. But he let it go, if it was something important, you would come to him of your own accord when you were ready. Once he realized you weren’t going to relent, he felt the need to step in.

There was also the matter of what you had told him. He knew it was probably just the fever making you just a little bit delirious, probably brought up by the fact you had fallen behind on your schedule, so he tried not to let your comment sting too much. Din knew you appreciated his presence, and knew that you knew he appreciated your own in turn. Or at least he hoped you did. He was more of a man of action instead of words, so he tried to let his actions speak for themselves, always buying you fresh goods, always leaving your favorite flavor of dehydrated protein bars for you, occasionally buying you some trinkets that reminded him of you when strolling a street market.

What Din felt for you, he had recently come to realize, was more than just appreciation. He loved you, he was helmet over boots in love with you. He wanted only the best for you, so he took it upon himself to take care of you and make you feel better. Like you had done for the kid before.

“Come on, kid” he said, picking the boy up and settling him on the counter “Let’s prepare a meal, yeah?”

He tried searching the holonet for some comfort food recipes from Tatooine, your home planet, and eventually settled on making cream of womp rat soup. He was thankful that you had insisted on buying fresh food at the last stop, which made his job here a little bit easier (although he did have to replace the womp rat meat for another kind).

The kid giggled the entire time, helping the Mandalorian stir the ingredients while his father chopped some vegetables. By the time the soup was all ready and steaming in a bowl, he went to wake you up. Opening the door to his bunk, he felt the corner of his lips curl up in a soft grin at the sight of you, curled up in his bed. While he hated waking you up, he knew you had to eat. He shook your shoulder lightly.

“Cyar’ika…”

“Hmm…?” you sleepily raised your head, acknowledging him.

“I got you some soup. Come on.”

“How long was I out?” you asked, rubbing the sleep from your eyes with the back of your hand.

“One standard hour, more or less.”

Din gently helped you up into a sitting position, with your back against what would be a headboard (if he had one). He went to retrieve the bowl when he noticed the kid peering up at the bed, making grabbing motions with his hands. Picking him up, he placed him over the covers, near your legs.

“Someone wanted to keep you company.” he said, to which you giggled in return, before launching on a fit of sneezes.

He grabbed the bowl and went back to his bunk, setting it over your lap. He noticed the kid had snuggled against your hip, his little head over your thigh. 

“I’m not the best cook in the galaxy” he said, feeling a twinge of awkwardness crawl its way up his throat “but I hope you like it.”

“Well, I would tell you it smells amazing if I could actually feel it.” he chuckled in response “If I’m able to taste anything, I’m pretty sure it will be great.”

He sat down by your feet at the edge of the bed, placing a hand over one of your knees and squeezing it softly. After you brought the spoon to your mouth, you let out a tiny moan of satisfaction.

“Maker, Din” you sighed happily “This is delicious. Is this-?”

“Cream of womp rat soup.” he finished.

“Minus the womp rat, I presume?”

He laughed at that, nodding his head.

“I know you don’t really like your home world, but you grew up there. I just assumed you would find some comfort in it.”

“It’s perfect, Din.” you grinned at him, a smile that made his heart skip a beat “Thank you.”

After another spoonful, you piped up again, your voice more playful.

“And it’s certainly better than the one I prepared for the kid the other day.”

You ate in silence, just the occasional cooing sounds coming from the kid, who was dangerously close to dozing off with his head draped over your thigh. Din’s heart clenched in adoration at the loving smile on your face, clearly enjoying the meal he so thoughtfully prepared for you.

You finished eating, drinking directly from the bowl, and turned back towards him.

“It was delicious, Din. Thank you. I mean it.” your smile seemed to light up your face, even with your sunken cheeks and the prominent bags under your eyes that were getting more noticeable by the hour.

“It was my pleasure, Cyar’ika.” he smiled in return, even though you couldn’t see it “Anything for you to feel better.” 

You quickly averted your eyes, a nervous look in your eyes making itself known for just a tiny fraction of second, before you looked back at him with a tired smile.

“I think my fever is getting worse.” your face fell when you sighed “I feel like it’s getting colder around here.” 

He tapped the side of his helmet.

“Your temperature is getting higher.”

Din got up, retrieving the kid and placing him back on the floor next to his coloring tools. He then extended a hand towards you.

“Come on. A cool shower should help alleviate the symptoms.” 

He helped you up on your feet, holding onto your elbow as you swayed upon planting your feet on the cold durasteel floor. He didn’t dare let go of your hand as you two slowly walked the small distance towards the fresher. He leaned you on a wall while preparing the water temperature for you.

“Think you can take it from here?” he asked, a bit awkwardly.

“Yeah. Should be fine.” 

As you moved to step away from him, he gently held your hand.

“I’m going to bring you some clothes. If you need anything, I’ll be right outside the door.”

You nodded, thanking him. He was left to watch you step into the fresher, closing the door behind you.

The cool water felt soothing on your feverish skin somehow. The droplets seemed to wash away all your worries and struggles, leaving only a tired body behind.

You washed slowly, your movements precise and careful in order not to drop anything, as you were sure you wouldn’t be able to crouch and pick it up without slipping and possibly injuring yourself quite badly. Leaving your face for last, you enjoyed how it suddenly made you feel just a little bit better. You only exited when your eyelids started feeling heavy and droopy (which didn’t really take long to be honest).

You reached for the towel hanging next to you, wrapping it around yourself after having dried off. With your skin now dry, the cold came back in full swing, having seemingly intensified while you showered, making you tremble on the spot. Maker, all you wanted was to get dressed and slip back under the covers, as you were suddenly getting very tired again, as if all the energy you gained from the small nap and Din’s soup was washed down the drain along with the water.

Opening the door you came face to face with a towering wall of beskar. His arms were extended in your direction, holding a pile of folded clean clothes, his helmet turned to the side, not staring directly at you. Once you got the clothes, he quickly turned around, his back to you, giving you some privacy.

“If you need anything, let me know.”

You felt as if you were dressing in slow motion, your movements sluggish. The shirt was certainly not yours, probably one of Din’s, and the thought made a warm feeling spread across your chest.

“All set.” 

Din turned back towards you, tilting his head to the side, like he was assessing your appearance in his clothes. He took a step forward, almost chest to chest with you, and, picking your arm up gently, started rolling the sleeve up, exposing your forearm. Something about the gesture felt incredibly intimate, and if you weren’t so very tired you would definitely be able to pay attention to the erratic beat of your heart. When he was done with the other sleeve he started leading you back to his bunk.

“Can’t you just give me an antipyretic or something?” you whined under your breath.

He chuckled lightly, his heart breaking a little bit for you were suffering.

“No, Cyar’ika. A fever is the body’s natural defense against the infection. Unless it starts getting dangerously high, you should let it go away on its own.”

You huffed, stubbornly, but let it go. As you arrived back on his bed, he helped you lie down and get comfortable, wrapping you in as many blankets he could get his hands on. As he went to leave your hand shot out and grabbed his wrist.

“Stay.” 

“Cyar’ika-” he started.

“Please?” you almost whispered.

He hesitated for just a moment before removing his vembrances. One by one the pieces of his armor came off, being carefully placed in a crate near the bunk, leaving him in only his helmet and flightsuit.

Din lied down beside you and you instantly scooted closer to him, nuzzling into his chest. He tensed for just a second, before his body relaxed, wrapping his arms around you and bringing you even closer.

“Thank you, Din” you said “for looking after me.” 

Din tilted his head, touching his chest with his chin, and briefly pressed the cold beskar forehead of his helmet to your own very lightly.

“Always.” 

You soon fell asleep, feeling safe and protected like never before.

[lavendertales]

Hello my love! I was wondering if you could write something angsty about Din Djarin. He and the reader are in this “will they or won’t they” type of situation, anytime they get a little too close or too deep in something emotional Din just pushes the reader away cause he can’t expresses his feelings well? It could end in fluff or angst its up to you! Thanks babes

not sure if it comes across as angsty but I do hope you like this fluffy piece, love❤️

tales of the heart—Din Djarin x gn!reader

word count: 833

Joining Din on his missions carried no expectations from either side. You simply provided him with medical assistance when needed and tended to the ship while he was gone and nothing else.

But several situations arose where you truly believed something might happen between you and Din.

You’ve grown close over the course of several months; that much was to be expected. And he had grown very fond and protective of you, but spending so much time with him began to stir a craving deep within you, one you hadn’t really anticipated.

Each touch of his, while innocent, set your skin on fire; each moment spend in proximity to him, pure torture. Even his voice, velvet-like and tender yet raspy, caused your heart to tremble and your body to almost spasm out of control. But you realized that such interactions might be the most you’ll ever get out of your relationship with Din, so you settled with those. Always around you, yet never enough.

One evening, after you made soup for the two of you, a big thunderstorm began. You weren’t a fan of those, and the loud thunders only made you nervous. But Din took notice and instantly wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to him. He didn’t ask you anything, but simply held you. You knew in that moment you were in love with him. But how could you ever let him know that? He was a Mandalorian, a sworn soldier that didn’t care for silly matters of the heart.

But then he brought you even closer to him and removed his chest plate so you’ll have a more comfortable place to rest. Bewildered, you searched for his eyes underneath the helmet, beyond touched.

“Din…”

You weren’t even sure where you were going with that. All you knew is that you needed him to know how you felt, even if it wasn’t mutual. Gods, you were so close to him that if the helmet wouldn’t have been in the way, you would’ve probably felt his warm breath on your lips. The realization made you delirious.

“Din, I—“

“We should… get some sleep. It’s getting late.”

The way he immediately backed away stung and ached, but it wasn’t within reason. He was probably unaccustomed to having people so close to him until you came along. And now even you were under a question mark.

Instances of the same sort kept happening; holding you too close to him seemed to be triggering Din’s fight or flight, in which he chose the latter. He fled from your touch with every chance he got, and the sting you felt turned into a full on bleeding wound. You feared you may have overstepped some boundaries and thus made Din uncomfortable. That must be why he was pushing you away.

You had to settle this before he’d grow sick of you and throw you off the ship.

“Din? Can I ask you something?”

He didn’t answer verbally, but rather with a simple nod of the head. With a knot in your throat, you went on.

“Why are you avoiding me?” you asked, voice already shaky. “It seems you go out of your way to avoid any physical contact with me, even eye contact. You don’t even look at me. Have I done something wrong? Said something?”

Din shook his head almost violently so. “No, no you didn’t.”

“Then what is it? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t expect anything… personal. I just… I like being with you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. I feel safe with you, and… I like you. I’m… fond of you.”

Underneath the helmet, Din blinked several times, his lungs nearly running out of air.

“I don’t understand,” he confessed.

“What?”

“How you can be… fond of me. You don’t even see me.”

“I don’t need to see you.”

He’s never heard such sweet words from anyone, let alone from someone as wonderful as you.

“It wasn’t something you did. Or said,” he confessed. “It’s me.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I’m not skilled with words. They often fail me, especially since I’ve met you. You’re… very kind and lovely, and… I’m afraid I might be… too fond of you.”

Eyes wide in disbelief, you stared at him for what felt like an eternity.

“I am sworn to the Creed,” he continued. “I only know of loyalty and weapons, making my way through the galaxy. It’s been lonesome, I must admit. But… with you, it is less so. If you’ll have me… I would pledge my loyalty to you until our time in this galaxy runs out.”

Mouth ajar, you kept staring at him in great shock. You didn’t know what else to do.

“Words fail you?” you managed to ask. “What—that’s your idea of not being good? What would it sound like if you think you’d be good?”

Din chuckled, visibly more at ease. “I meant it.”

“So did I. Then… you don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

“Definitely not.”