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#mando x you story
owlyjules · 2 years
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Little Obi-Wan/ Jangobi Doodle for my little wife!
I want to make art of the clones next!!
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millersdjarin · 2 years
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I Only See Daylight
Chapter Three
Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader
Rating: E (eventually)
Chapter warnings/tags: slow burn, dad!din, grogu and his ~powers~, bonding, injuries (not in detail), negative self-talk, mentions of past trauma/abuse
Chapter Length: 6.1k
Previous Chapter | Series Info & Masterlist
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i'll tell you the truth, but never goodbye
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In the later hours of the night as it stretches on into the next morning, you take your watch, and unease starts to curl in your stomach as you watch the sky. The clear, inky blackness is being covered by clouds, the wind picking up from the East, cold and nipping at your fingers and toes. In the distance, you could swear you start to hear rumbles of thunder on the hills. 
Kriff. 
It’s not long until you feel the first drop of rain fall on your cheek. You silently pray that it’ll just be a light shower, that it’ll pass quickly with the suddenly gusty winds. 
Of course, that’s not how it happens. No, the rain only gets stronger, the sound of it hitting against the tent now almost as loud as the strong breeze rustling through the trees. You grab your coat from your pack and put it on, tucking your blanket into the shelter of a fallen log as best you can, not wanting it to get wet. 
But it’s getting stronger, the wind picking up even more, thunder getting closer. The first flash of lightning isn’t a surprise, but it still makes you jump as it cracks through the sky all around you, followed shortly by a loud, long rumble of thunder.
“Come inside,” a voice says from behind you as the rain starts to pelt at your coat. 
You turn, and Mando has a hand up to push back the tent so he can stick his head out. “I’m on watch—”
“Come inside,” he says again, this time gesturing for you to do just that.
You’re not going to argue. It’s really throwing it down hard now, your coat already surrendering to the wetness and letting it seep into your clothes. The thunder is right above you, lightning strobing through the thick covering of clouds.
It’s warmer in the tent, thank the Maker. The rain is loud above and around you, but the relief of being beneath some kind of cover is palpable. 
“Thanks,” you say to Mando, wrapping your rather useless coat further around yourself. The kid is awake beside him, snuggled up into his hip with his face pressed against Mando’s flight suit. “Is he scared of the storm?” 
“Yeah. He doesn’t like the noise.” 
“I don’t blame him.”
“Is there anywhere we can go with better cover? I don’t trust this tent to hold in the winds.” 
You chew your lip, thinking. “There’s a small cave a couple klicks North. It’s good shelter. It’ll be warmer.” 
Mando nods. “I say we head for that. I can get the tent packed up in a few minutes—”
Another smash of thunder, this time so loud and sudden that it sounds like an explosion. It makes you jump, an involuntary yelp finding its way up your throat. Grogu jumps too, and cries, his ears turning downwards as he presses himself further into Mando’s leg.
The wind is already pounding against the tent like crazy, as if someone is outside and shaking the frame with all their strength. “We leave the tent,” you decide as Mando lifts Grogu into his arms, cradles him against his neck. “It’s not worth it. We need to get to cover. Away from the tall trees.” 
Mando nods again and starts to get up. He holds open the tent’s door for you, and you accept gratefully, heading outside first before he follows you with the kid in his arms. 
He’s shaking against Mando’s breastplate, hiding his head as far as it’ll go into his shoulder. The thunder is crashing every few minutes, lightning the bright and unrelenting warning of the sound. It’s been a long time since you’ve seen rain this heavy. 
Before setting off, you scramble in your pack for the spare sweater that you keep at the bottom of it. You lay it over Grogu, tucking him in just like Mando does when he puts him to bed, not allowing in any drafts. Looking up into Mando’s visor, you explain, “Figure he’ll feel safer if he’s covered. Come on, let’s move.”
Your boots are muddy in a matter of minutes, flicks of it spraying all the way up your dark trousers. It takes fifteen minutes of hasty travelling through the forest to find the outcropping of rocks in a clearing at the bottom of a hill. The sky opens up above you and the rain gets even heavier. Fork lightning splits across the zenith, landing a blow onto the ground not far away.
Carefully, you step down onto the incline of the hill, grass slippery beneath your feet. With your hands out at your sides to keep your balance, you turn to the side, taking it one step at a time, the rain pelting down and making huge puddles of wet mud in between the layers of grass. Mando takes up the same position as you, clutching the kid to his chest while keeping him in the satchel. 
It’s getting steeper, more treacherous. Each step you take slips an inch down before your foot finds purchase, the wetness finding its way into your boots and going between your toes.
“Watch your step—” Mando says, just a second too late as your foot falls into a deeper dip in the ground than you’d realised, splashing down into a deep puddle. You lose your balance in an instant and you feel Mando’s hands coming towards you, just about getting hold of your back, but your other foot slips with the force of his rescue and then you’re slipping down a long mudslide, only staying on your feet for a moment before you tumble forwards and onto your side. The ground feels impossibly hard beneath you as you roll all the way down the hill, shoulders smacking into the dirt over and over as the world spins around you. 
You’re so dazed by the tumble, so winded from the force of it, that when you reach the bottom of the slope and finally come to a stop, at first you don’t notice the blinding pain in the back of your calf, and then, a moment later, the lizard tail that suddenly stings at your arm. 
“Shit!” You cry out.
You hear the rain on Mando’s beskar before you even see him appear beside you. You’re not sure how he made it down the hill so fast without slipping, but he’s managed it, holding the kid to his chest with one arm and outstretching the other towards you. 
The pain in your leg and arm is blinding. You’re not sure which is worse. At least you know that the shooting agony in your arm is from a lizard; you can’t tell yet what the hell is stabbing so far into your leg. It feels like you’ve twisted your ankle too, a throbbing starting up beneath the skin. 
“Where are you hurt?” Mando’s voice comes through your pained panting. 
“My—my arm, my leg, my—ah,” you grit your teeth against the tightening feeling in your arm, the lizard’s venom spreading and swelling your entire bicep. “Kriffing hells, my ankle, too.” 
“Can you walk?” 
In the haze that threatens to overtake your vision, you manage to lift up your good arm, the other clutched to your chest, and point to the cave just a few metres away. “The cave is just there, behind that overhang,” the urge to squeeze your eyes shut is almost irresistible, but you know that if you do, when you open them again the venom could temporarily make you blind. “Get the kid inside first.” 
Mando hesitates for a second, but then nods, and runs through the rain into the cave. 
It’s small, only a few metres deep, but the overhang at the front hides the entrance and keeps it almost entirely protected from the elements. You actually found it in a similar situation back when you first got to this planet; the storm wasn’t as sudden, so you searched for a place to hide before it got too bad. This was where you landed, and it kept you safe. Only, back then, you weren’t injured. 
Mando is back out in just a minute, though it feels like longer; you can feel the sting spreading up your arm, the venom travelling through your blood. It’s only when you try to move your injured leg that you realise what the problem is: there’s a tree branch, broken off into a sharp point at one end, embedded in your calf. The ankle below it is swelling already.
“Let’s get inside,” Mando says. “Can you walk?” 
It’s so alien to you to admit that something’s really wrong. But, really, right now, there’s no hiding it. You try to stand up, try to get both feet under you, but your injured leg buckles beneath you the minute you put weight on it. The tree branch is still in your flesh. “N—No,” you answer his question, catching yourself on the ground before you tumble face-first into it.
He catches you, wrapping an arm around your waist and slinging one of your arms around his shoulders. “Come on, lean on me,” he instructs, and you do. 
The two of you stagger to the cave. Once you’re inside, the relief of being free of the rain and wind seems to lessen the pain a little. Not much, but enough that you notice it, despite the fact that you’re suddenly aware of just how covered in mud you are. With your good arm, you reach for the flashlight in your pack, and hold it up to illuminate the space. Grogu is at the far end, tucked into a corner and still wrapped in your sweater. 
“Sit down,” Mando tells you. Carefully, he lowers you to the cave floor, leaning you against the wall. Grunts of pain come from your throat as the unpleasant sensations wash over you: a mix of feverish heat from the venom, the searing pain from the tree branch, and the throbbing of your ankle. Your vision starts to swim, gathering black spots.
“Hey,” Mando dips his head to try and meet your eyes, but everything is spinning, you can only see bits and pieces of the light, “Hey, look at me. Look at me, can you hear me?” 
Blinking in a haze, you manage to nod. “It’s—the venom,” you rasp. Dizziness washes over you and stays there, rendering every inch of your wounded body unable to move, feeling like the world is shifting around you and you’re going in the opposite direction. 
You can’t get your eyes to focus on him, but he tries to meet them anyway, dipping his visor with the lolling movement of your head. “I thought you said it wasn’t lethal?” He asks, then presses a gloved hand to your forehead. “You’re burning up.” 
“It’s…it’s not lethal,” your voice is just a breath now as the pain turns to weakness, dizziness becoming all you know, and you can’t imagine a world that doesn’t feel like it’s spinning on its head. “Just really…really shit.” 
“I need to get your jacket off, take a look at the wound,” he says and tugs at the lapels of your coat.
You nod permission, so he carefully removes it, and rolls down the neck of your long-sleeved shirt to inspect the sting.
He puts his hand back to your forehead. If you were more coherent, you’d maybe wonder how he can feel the heat of your skin through those gloves; then again, though, you can feel just how hot you’re getting. Sweat sticks to your neck, glistens in between your fingers. 
“Is there an antidote?” 
“Mando, my…my leg, it’s…” 
“I know, I know,” he says, sounding more frantic than you’ve ever heard him. Calmer than most people would be, you’re sure, but frantic for The Mandalorian. He looks to your leg, crouches down beside it. “The branch is stopping it bleeding for now. I need to get your fever down before I can do anything else, or you’re going to pass out.” 
“’M fine,” you can hear your words slurring, feeling them barely slipping past your numb lips. “Get the branch out…” 
“Are you sure? I—kid, stay back, it’s not—oh.” 
In your delirium you only just register the change in Mando’s tone. The soft realisation as he says oh. 
There’s the gentle pitter patter of feet waddling towards you. You manage to control your swaying head enough to look down and find Grogu padding over, his ears turned downwards in concern, the little hairs on his head soaking wet. He’s reaching a hand out towards you, and it’s not until he’s just inches away that you realise he’s trying to touch the wound. The stinger wound that currently feels like it’s on fire, that is somehow worse than the literal tree branch you have embedded in your calf muscle. 
You go to push him away, to tell him no, but Mando takes hold of your arms and squeezes lightly. “It’s okay,” he says, watching as Grogu settles beside you and starts to close his eyes. “It’s alright. He’s helping you.” 
Wide-eyed and confused, you glance between the two of them. Every instinct is telling you to shout Get away from me! Kid, please don’t touch me!, but you can’t move, can barely even see enough to notice Grogu’s hand stopping just an inch above the sting. 
And then, you feel it.
The venom, once spreading all the way from the site and up your shoulders, rendering them unable to move or flex, begins to retreat. You can feel it, like the opposite of running water through your veins, drawing out from the wound. The burning heat of it sates, leaving coolness in its wake. Leaving your blood normal again, the pain receding. 
What the fuck is happening? 
It feels like your arm is deflating like a balloon. The dizziness subsides, the world coming back into focus around you and the black spots dissipating. All that’s left now is your panting, breaths coming deep and fast from your lungs as you recover from the pain, from a fever being literally taken away from you in seconds. 
Mando’s hands are still on your arms, though not to hold you in place; they’re too gentle for it. They’re almost comforting. 
“Good job, kid,” you hear Mando say, and if you weren’t so confused by the whole ordeal, you might hear the smile in his voice. 
As you look down at the kid again, he looks up at Mando, his ears perking up at the praise. You panic, though, when his eyelids start drooping. He careens to the side, dropping to the floor as his eyes close completely. 
“Grogu!” You cry, but Mando tightens his grip on your arms again, coaxing you to look at him instead. 
“It’s okay. He’s alright, that happens sometimes after he uses his powers.” 
“His—his what?” 
Mando sighs like he doesn’t have time for this. Which, okay, he doesn’t. “I’ll explain later. How do you feel?” 
“I—better,” you reply, confusion only growing with the answer. Your leg and ankle, however, still hurt like fuck. “My—my leg, Mando, the branch…” 
He reaches into his satchel and brings out a medpack. “I’m going to get it out,” he says. Then, lifting his visor to look at you, “It’s going to hurt. I’m sorry.” 
Pulling your bottom lip into your mouth, you nod, and tip your head back against the cave wall behind you, bracing yourself for the pain. 
It’s a tearing, skin-searing pain as the gnarled piece of pointy wood is extracted from your leg. Mando does it quickly, not wanting to draw the procedure out, but, Maker, ripping something like that out from your calf muscle is something you definitely feel. 
You cry out, bringing your hand up to your mouth to dampen the sound. Tears well in the corners of your eyes and you screw your eyes shut, trying to stop them from falling. 
Mando gets to work holding pressure on the wound, and that hurts too, feels like he’s pressing against the bone with a long, wide iron rod. He doesn’t say anything, but out of the corner of your eye you catch him glancing up at you every few seconds, every time you let out choked cries of pain.
A traitorous tear slips past your defences. You don’t have it in you to wipe it away. 
“Breathe,” Mando reminds you, soft but firm. “You need to breathe.” 
Frantic, you nod, and do as he says. The breath enters your lungs with great effort, your body starting to feel the bruises from tumbling down the hill so fast. You breathe in through your nose, out through your mouth, trying to stay calm and focus on the breath rather than the pain. 
Soon, the bleeding stops, and Mando applies a bandage, wrapping it all the way around your leg. 
“Your ankle is swollen, but I don’t think it’s broken,” he tells you, placing fingers so gently over the swelling that it’s just the ghost of a touch. “It’s probably a sprain.” 
You nod in agreement. You’ve sprained this ankle before, and it does feel the same, if maybe a little worse because of the wound above it. 
Mando cracks a disposable ice pack and waits for it to turn cold before he places it over your ankle, gently holding it there with his gloved hands. “How does it feel?” 
“Not great,” you say, wry, feeling the sweat on your forehead and neck start to go cold now that your fever has gone. Speaking of, “What just happened? With the kid?” 
Mando doesn’t answer at first, concentrating just a little too much on the ice pack. Then, “He’s got powers. He can heal people.” 
“I—what?” 
“How much pain are you in?” He asks instead of elaborating. 
The lack of explanation and sudden change in topic startles you. You blink, and consider your answer. “Quite a lot, but I’m okay. I just…I just need to rest.” 
Mando nods. “We’re dry in here until the storm stops. Are you warm enough?”
You want to nod, want to tell him that you’re fine and that he doesn’t have to take care of you, but the cold sweat drying on your skin has you shivering. “Not really,” you answer honestly.
Without a word, Mando grabs the empty tent pack and pulls out a spare blanket. He starts to spread it over you, but you stop him, putting gentle and cautious hands on his wrists. The touch seems to surprise him; he looks up, stopping in his tracks. 
Too overwhelmed by touching him, you pull your hands away and distract yourself by looking down at the kid. “Is he okay?” 
“He just needs rest.” 
You nod, then pat your lap. “He can share the blanket with me.” 
A pause. An unreadable stare. “Are you sure?” 
“Yes. He’s all wet, I don’t want him getting cold.” 
Another pause, then a gentle nod, and Mando lifts the sleeping Grogu into your lap. You cradle him in the crook of your good arm as Mando tucks you both under the blanket. It’s such a soft, caring gesture; warmth blooms in your chest despite the pain you’re in, and for a moment, you’re lost in the darkness of his visor. Wondering about him. About his eyes. About his hands, his heart. Just wondering.…
“How long do storms usually last around here?” 
“N—not long. Just a few hours.” 
He nods. “Then you should rest until then.” 
“I’m in too much pain to sleep,” you tell him, looking his helmet all over, not caring if he sees you taking in every inch of him. It doesn’t seem to bother him; he’s looking right back at you, maybe even observing you in the same detail behind that visor. Hesitant, you chew your bottom lip for a moment. He moves away, goes to stand up. “Wait,” you say before you can think better of it. He stops, waits. “Can you tell me about your travels?” 
He tilts his helmet. “My travels?” 
“Yes. Just—tell me about somewhere you’ve been. Somewhere pretty.” 
Abandoning his mission to stand up, he settles down on the floor in front of you, propping one leg up so he can rest his elbow on it, the other bent on the cave ground. He’s got your flashlight facing the roof of the cave, and it casts a white, shadowy light through the place, making him look somehow dark and light all at once. 
He’s quiet, at first. You’re just starting to think he isn’t going to tell you, doesn’t want to share anything about himself. 
But then you realise he’s just thinking about his answer. Because he wants to give a real one.
“Takodana has beautiful forests…” 
-
“You should go back,” you say, gritting your teeth through the pain in your leg. 
Mando looks at you from his place by the cave’s entrance, Grogu cradled in one of his arms as the daylight streams in and reflects off his shiny armour. “I’m not leaving you here,” he says.
“You should. I can’t walk, but I’ve got enough rations to make it work here until the pain is better.” 
“I said, I’m not leaving you here.” 
You stare at him as he stares right back. Challenging. 
It’s not that you want to be left alone out here. Being alone is something you’re used to—in fact, it’s often the way you like it—but being stuck in this cave without your own strength, relying on your rations, isn’t your idea of a good time, nor a particularly good idea.
But equally, feeling like you’re holding two people back from living their life just because you fell down a hill will be a weight on your shoulders. It’s easy to slip into guilt at the idea. Mando and Grogu have helped you enough by healing and patching you up. You’ve had your hike, you’re only a day and a half’s walk from your hut, and the storm has passed. There’s no reason for Mando to stay; at least, not one that won’t make you feel absolutely terrible for making him put his life on hold. Their life on hold, whatever that may entail. 
(Bounty hunting, probably.) 
“Mando…” you say, but he interrupts you. 
“I’ll go back for the tent, now the storm has passed.” 
“The tent will be shredded. You know that.” 
“Do you have another one?” 
“At home? Yes. With me? No.” 
“Then if you can’t camp, how are you going to get back to your hut before the sun sets?” 
“I’ll be fine, and I’ll do it alone. I can sleep out in the open.” 
He turns his whole body to face you, places one hand on his hip, impatient. “That’s not a good idea.” 
“In case you forgot, this is my planet. I can handle myself.” 
He stays pointedly quiet, tilting his helmet briefly to look down at your still-bandaged, still-swollen leg. 
“I can handle myself enough,” you mutter, correcting yourself. “I mean it, Mando. You don’t have to stay here for me. This wasn’t part of our agreement.” 
“We didn’t make an agreement.” 
You sigh frustratedly and tip your head back against the wall behind you, finding it cold and damp. You don’t want to be left here alone. In fact, the very thought is terrifying. 
But he’s got his own life. He’s got a kid. He’s got a bounty to get. You may not know much about him, but you are certain that he’s got more important things to do than sit in this cave and babysit you while you heal enough to walk to your silly little hut. 
“I’m not leaving you alone,” he says again, this time firmer. “If you don’t want me around, I can make camp outside. But I won’t leave you here injured.” 
“No, that’s not—” there doesn’t seem to be a way to say I want you around that doesn’t sound weird, so you just cut yourself off, and close your eyes. “Alright,” you relent, quiet. “Alright. Thank you. You don’t have to do this for me.” 
“I know,” he says. “I’m going to go back to the camp, see what’s left of it. Do you need anything before we go?” 
Keeping your eyes closed as a blush creeps its way onto your cheeks, you shake your head. It’s been so long since you accepted help; since anyone offered it. In fact, you can’t remember the last time it happened. 
A thought that you have fought so hard to push down comes to the surface. It tastes sour on your tongue, sitting still in the back of your mind like it knows its very presence is enough to unravel you. 
I don’t deserve his help. 
You swallow the lump of tears that rises in your throat. 
“I won’t be long,” Mando’s voice offers a welcome reprieve from the guilt, the shame. But when you open your eyes again, he and the kid are gone. 
There are a lot of reasons that you chose this lonely life. Freedom, safety, a fresh start. And, maybe above all else, it was to escape the heavy feeling that you are a burden on everyone you meet. 
Because that’s what they told you you are. 
And, even now, years since you found your freedom, you still believe it. 
It’s easy to forget when there’s no one else around. 
The day stretches on. You doze off at one point, having spent half the night awake running from the storm and falling down a hill. The place where the lizard stung your arm is still sore, but only from the wound itself, not from the venom. You’re glad, at least, that on top of everything else, you’re not having to sit here stewing in a fever. Grogu saw to that. 
However the fuck he did that. 
You’ve heard of the Force, of having abilities that go beyond the realm of imagination. It could be that, you suppose, but you’ve never seen someone heal like that before. Let alone a kid. 
The evening is fast approaching, and for a while, you start to think that Mando isn’t coming back. That maybe, halfway between here and your abandoned camp, he looked at the kid’s big eyes and realised he was better off just leaving you here. He could’ve done that with a clear conscience. He knows you’ll most likely survive here without him. 
Which makes you wonder why he’s staying at all. Why he insisted on it.
Perhaps it’s his Creed. 
Or maybe it’s just who he is. 
He does come back as the sun starts to set. You can see the orange glow of the air outside the cave, feel a soft evening breeze brushing in through the foliage that hangs past the overhanging rock above the entrance. The contrast from the weather this morning is stark, and welcome. Outside, you hear his footsteps, hear the kid babbling away. Metal clangs loudly and through a gap in the leaves you see Mando tying his pallet of loot from the wreckage to a nearby tree.
Grogu coos happily when they step inside. You give him a tired smile, then look to Mando, who has a full pack slung over his back. 
“The tent covering was mostly shredded. But our sleeping mats, pillows, and blankets were intact,” he announces, dropping the pack on the floor in front of you. 
You look at it, then back to him. It’s been horribly uncomfortable to sit on this hard, stone floor all day. Your behind went numb hours ago, and the rock at your back has started to dig uncomfortably into your shoulder blade. 
As if reading your thoughts, or your pain, Mando crouches down to open the pack, pulling out a sleeping mat. He lays it beside you, parallel to the stretch of the wall. Taking one of the air pillows, he puts it at one end of the mat. One of the other pillows has deflated. It sits on the floor beside him. 
He drapes a blanket over the plump one, covering any lingering wetness. 
You watch him. He’s not saying anything, just moving quietly and methodically, building you a bed inside this dimly lit, chilly cave. It’s so fucking endearing, so tender, of him; it brings a warmth to your chest, blooming out unfamiliarly into your arms and belly. 
Once he’s done, he takes hold of the deflated pillow, puts his fingers over the air hole. Lifts it up to his covered mouth, hesitates.
“I’ll do it,” you say, reaching out for it. He lets you take it, and your fingertips brush against his gloves as you pull away. A shudder goes down your spine. You try your best to conceal it, and bring the air hole to your mouth before blowing the pillow up again. 
“Thank you,” he says, taking it back from you and then propping it up against the cave wall beside the bed. 
“You’re thanking me?” You raise an eyebrow. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do this.” 
He gestures to the empty bed with his hand and a tip of his helmet.
Feeling just a little self-conscious under his unseen gaze, you shuffle across the floor as best you can without jostling your injured leg too much. A few grunts and gritted teeth later, you’re sitting with your butt on the soft mat, your back leaning into the air pillow against the wall. 
The sigh of relief comes from your mouth before you give it permission. Your head tips back, eyes closing. “Maker,” you curse under your breath, “that’s so much better.” 
“Good.” 
You crack an eye open. “What about you?” 
“There’s another mat.” 
“Oh. Right.” You look across at the kid, who’s standing in the cave entrance, reaching up to play with the plants that hang down just inches from the floor. He giggles to himself with each leaf he successfully hits and swings. You find yourself smiling, unable to help it. His little hops are just so darn cute. 
“I also went on a hunt,” Mando says, and brings out some fresh meat wrapped in the remains of the tent canvas. He’s already skinned and gutted it, ready to put it straight into a pan. “I thought we should save rations where we can.” 
You nod, feeling a tightness squeeze at your throat, a stinging in your nose. No one has ever done this much for you before. Not without ulterior motives. 
And you’ve tried to find one for him. Tried to dig, to look into the parts of him that he’s shown you. But there is no hidden reason for him to help you. 
If he was here to collect your bounty all along, he’d just render you unconscious, and carry you back to his ship himself. 
If he wanted to hurt you, to take advantage of you, he could easily have overpowered you by now. In your sleep, after you fell, when the fever was taking hold. Even afterwards, as the sun rose, and you were drifting in and out of consciousness as waves of pain came over you. 
But he didn’t. 
All he did was sit quietly. Played with the kid. Fed the kid. Fed you.
And then insisted on staying, even when it made no logical, self-serving sense for him to do so.
“Why are you helping me?” You find yourself asking as the tightness in your throat turns into another lump of emotion. 
His helmet lifts, hands stilling in their task of retrieving the portastove from his pack. 
He doesn’t answer. Just stares. 
“You get nothing from this,” you say, unsure why you’re trying again to convince him to leave you here alone, when he’s already done so much for you, made this whole thing comfortable and bearable by just being here—“Why stay?” 
For another long moment, he remains quiet. Then, unexpectedly, “This is the Way.” 
That’s…not an explanation.
And you have nothing better to do than ask for further information. “What does that mean?” 
He looks back down at the stove, moves over to set it up by the open air. He gathers a pan, puts the meat in it, and dusts off his gloves. Even though he’s not answering, you get the feeling that he’s not ignoring you. So you wait. Watching him. 
“It’s part of my Creed,” he says eventually. “My religion.”
You raise an eyebrow, dubious. “To help people?” 
“In a sense.” 
You’ve never met someone part of any kind of religion that helps people. You’re not sure if it’s comforting or not, the fact he only does it because of his Creed. Or, so he says. 
“That the only reason?” You find yourself asking, probably just a little too confident to be asking more questions when he’s already given you an answer. Which is more than you would probably give him. 
He looks at you again. It’s incredible, how he manages to hold a shared gaze without you seeing his eyes. “It’s the right thing to do,” he says. It surprises you, that he’s given you another answer. 
Warmth blooms in your chest again. You smile, soft. “Well,” you say, “thank you. I appreciate it.” 
He cooks up the meat. Grogu hovers beside him. At one point he reaches out for the pan, going for a chunk of food, but Mando carefully slaps his hand away, points a finger at him, and says, “No. It’s hot. You’ll burn yourself.” To which Grogu listens, instead settling at Mando’s hip, seeming fascinated by the cracks and sizzles coming from the pan. 
Once Mando has served both you and the kid your meals, Grogu waddles over with his little bowl, settles himself down on the mat beside you. You give him a smile and an affectionate wrinkle of your nose.
“It’s hot,” you warn him. 
Grogu looks down at his food, then back at you, and the vaguest hint of a nod comes from his head. Then, in what is probably the cutest thing you’ve ever seen, he leans forward, making the tiniest ‘O’ shape with his little mouth, and blows on the food. 
Mando, who is sitting against the wall opposite you, makes a noise that sounds like a fond laugh. It’s so surprising to hear that you snap your eyes up to look at him. You don’t know why you were expecting to see his face. It’s easy, when not looking at him, to forget that all you can see when you do is a helmet, all you can hear is his voice through it. 
He’s got one leg bent up, his arm resting on it, hanging down over his middle. You’re not sure if he’s watching you or Grogu. Maybe it’s both. 
You don’t know which you want the answer to be. 
“So what about you?” He asks. His voice startles you as you put a hunk of meat up to your mouth, and it falls in before you have chance to blow on it. It’s fucking hot, but not quite hot enough to burn. 
You hide your misstep by just chewing it like nothing happened. Something in the quirk of his helmet, though, shows you that he noticed. And he’s amused. 
Clearing your throat, you ask, “What about me?” 
“Why did you help me?” He asks. “Getting nothing in return?” 
A soft frown creases at your forehead. Looking away, you stab at your food. “Same as you.” 
“A Creed?” 
You snort humourlessly. “I live here on a planet alone, and you think I’m part of a creed with other people?”
He hesitates. “You haven’t always been alone, though,” he questions, and his voice is soft, unnervingly so, like he’s unsure whether he should ask, “have you?” 
You freeze. Stare down at your mess tin, at the oil and the red meat. Your thoughts start racing again, taking you back to the time when you weren’t alone, when you were never allowed to be alone. When there was no peace. 
“I’m sorry,” Mando’s voice comes up again, softer still. “I overstepped.” 
You go to shake your head, to tell him it’s alright, that he didn’t. But there are tears at the backs of your eyes. Memories flooding in. 
No, I haven’t always been alone. 
But now I am. And I have to stay that way. 
Just about mustering enough strength to shake your head, you shove another mouthful in to your mouth and chew it silently. 
Mando just watches. You, or maybe the kid. 
You still don’t know which you’d prefer. And that is terrifying. 
You never wanted to be seen again.
Now, you’re not so sure.
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notes: i'd like to go camping in a cave with din and grogu pls and thank.
hope you enjoyed as always; all interactions are appreciated, but comments and reblogs especially fuel my need for validation ❤️
if you want to be on the taglist, just let me know!
take care of yourself ❤️
taglist:
@toobsessedsstuff @granillx @keepingitlokiii @shoe1412
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"Right now, it really is looking like soulmate AU is gonna be the winner and y'all aren't ready for the plans I got for that ;D" Please imagine me chanting "kill me, kill me" with the biggest grin. I love soulmate aus.
Also, a fresh start is fantastic, I adore it, and I can't wait to see where it goes.
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oh man oh man, am i glad we're on the same page then, B/C I AM AN ABSOLUTE SLUT FOR SOULMATE AUs. I was really really hoping that soulmate AU would win the poll b/c I really wanted to write it (but I also hoped it didn't win b/c there is no way i can wrap that shit up in three chapters i just know my hoe ass is gonna turn it into a full ass story🤡)
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poetic-justicesong · 1 year
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Poison from the Same Vine- Masterlist
Chapter 1: The Mandalorian & The Jhedan
Chapter 2: The Child
Chapter 3: Lost and Found
Chapter 4: Purpose
Rating: M
Tags: Din Djarin x reader, Orginial female character, Original Child Character, Found Family, AU
Summary: When an infamous Mandalorian Bounty Hunter and a cunning cloaked mercenary become entangled with a mysterious Imperial bounty, they find themselves pulled together in an incredible twist of fate.
All survivors from the Empire's genocide of their people, three individuals learn what it means to let go, to let themselves love, and just maybe...to belong again.
In a galaxy far, far away, love may just be the saving force for them all.
...at least, we certainly pray it is.
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greenandsorrow · 6 months
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Could you write an Xreader- Pedro Pascal smut with age gap and daddy kink
Also riding and praise kink
warnings-> fem!reader, age gap, daddy k1nk, praise and degradation k1nk, unprotected sex
disclaimer-> this was requested by an irl friend, so I just had to write it! (about requesting; click here)
This is just porn, no plot at all. Pure filth. I drew my inspo from this photoshoot! It hasn't been proof read, so some errors are to be expected.
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You are new to this... being a photographer in Hollywood. So the excitement of meeting your celebrity crashes is still very much alive in you.
Today you have a scheduled photo shoot with the José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal. Obviously, there's a team accompanying you, but everything seems to disappear when you lay eyes on the masterpiece of a man that Pedro is.
Pedro's eyes widen slightly when you approach him to introduce yourself. He chuckles awkwardly, shaking your hand heartily.
Before you have time to wipe away the idiotic smile that has formed on your face, you are holding your camera and guiding his poses.
It quickly becomes clear that Pedro is fun to work with. He cracks the best of dad jokes and the way he looks at the lens has you soaking your panties.
The shoot is taking place in a motel somewhere outside of LA. During lunchbreak everyone parts ways, leaving you alone with your camera and naughty thoughts. Pedro is inside one of the motel rooms, getting changed into the next outfit the team has picked for him.
Now that the ice has been broken after working with him for hours, you feel confident enough to knock on the door of the room he currently occupies.
The sun outside is bright and when he lets you in, its rays make his frame glisten slightly. He's still shirtless. The air is heavy with desire, mixed with soft notes of lavender from the room's fragrance.
Inside his mind there's a dilemma. He's twice your age, but all he can think about is your perfect curves, your cleavage, your sweet smile.
Pedro bites his lip as he imagines you against him.
"Um... could I help you with anything kid?"
"Don't call me that."
"Fuck~"
The grown man in front of you has become tomato red, hands instinctually covering his crotch.
"You don't have to hide that..."
Your eyes are seductive and your tone makes Pedro swallow audibly.
"Y- you don't understand sweetie. I haven't.... haven't... in a while."
"All the more reason to do it now~"
That would be fucking incredible. His hardened cock twitches in anticipation at the thought of being buried deep inside you...
A moment of staring at each other with intent passes.
Pedro locks the door and you close the curtains.
The room starts to feel even hotter now that your shared desire has been revealed. Pedro's hands start roaming across his body, tracing patterns over his abdomen before cupping his balls through the fabric of his underwear. He groans softly, a thick bead of precum forms at the tip of his throbbing cock, yearning for your wet heat.
You grin. The sweet and shy man is gone. Pedro is pure dominance and power now.
"Be a good girl and take off your clothes for your da- for me."
"What did you say?" you teasingly ask while playing with your breasts.
He mumbles something under his breath.
"You're gonna take your clothes off now, for your daddy."
"Now we're talking."
And so you give him a little strip show. You begin by taking off your shirt, tantalisingly slow...
Pedro cannot wait any longer when your breasts bounce after taking off your bra.
The actor leans in, capturing your lips with his own, shoving his tongue deep into your mouth as he moans against you. Your taste sends shivers of pleasure through him, tongues dance and tangle while his hands roam further down your body, cupping your plump ass cheeks roughly before delivering a sharp slap that leaves a hot sting followed by pleasure.
He is quick to undress himself while you do the same with your remaining clothing.
As the intensity builds between you, Pedro whispers filthy things in your ear... promises of what he'll do to you once you're fully impaled on his thick shaft, describing in graphic detail how good it will feel.
You can't help but giggle playfully... In a swift motion, you put a hand on his wide chest, pushing him back until his calves hit the couch.
Pedro sits with his legs spread. His fat cock (slightly bent) is rigid against his lower stomach.
He's a sight to behold, that's for sure.
"...agh~ it's been a long day mi vida..."
Pedro can't help but groan when his cock twitches impatiently.
He pulls you close and helps you straddle him. His heart melts as you do so, his erection pressing against your wetness.
"Oh that's it darling. Take care of daddy... C'mon ride me baby, don't be shy~"
You are too turned on, too lost in the delicious haze of lust and desire.
You slowly sink down on Pedro's surprisingly girthy member.
To your delight he lets out a strangled moan, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He feels every inch of you surrounding him.
"Fuck yeah, that's it princess. Ride your daddy hard and fast."
He's breathless, hungry... but still patient enough to let you adjust to his size... before thrusting up to fill you completely with his cock.
You moan loudly against his chest.
(On top of everything, why does he have to smell so frickin' good?!)
You haven't even started moving on top of him and Pedro reaches between your legs, rubbing your clit with his thumb.
"Such a pretty baby girl. Let daddy feel that sweet pussy of yours squeeze him tight."
Pedro's eyes roll back in ecstasy as he feels the warmth of your tight pussy enveloping his cock, as you finally begin to move up and down. Each inch you take feels like heaven, making him bite his lip to stifle moans and profanities.
His hips jerk upward involuntarily, trying to drive deeper into your welcoming heat.
"Ah... oh... it's too good... your pussy~"
"You play with my clit so nicely handsome..."
Your voice doesn't sound like your own in your ears. But the shocked and flustered expression on Pedro's features boosts your confidence.
You pick up the pace, slamming down on him harder and faster, chasing maximum pleasure.
He growls, his cock throbbing inside of you. Your shared moans and gasps fill the room as you both give in to passion.
"Fuck yes, babydoll... you're so damn tight!"
The actor's hands find their way to your hips, holding on tightly as he begins to move in unison with you.
Heavy breathing and the slapping sounds of your flesh meeting as you lose yourselves in the ecstasy is what could be heard if someone was to go knock on the door.
Pedro hasn't had sex in a while so he soon gets overwhelmed. He can feel himself being consumed by the pleasure your tight walls provide him with. As he nears his peak, he slows you down by grabbing your hips, prolonging his time with you.
He tries not to panic by the fact he almost came. Pedro starts nibbling on your neck and earlobe... regaining some sense of control.
"Shhh... baby doll," he whispers breathily into your ear. "You feel so fucking amazing around me... J- just slow down for a moment~"
You feel Pedro's grip on you tighten slightly as he fights against the impending orgasm that threatens to consume him. You indeed make your pace lighter, more shallow and slightly slower.
Even in this new pace, Pedro's orgasm is building rapidly within him despite his attempts to hold back. He knows that he needs to make this last. He wants you to remember him, to leave a long lasting impression on you.
Your moans and whines don't help, making him all too excited. He doesn't continue pounding into you, determined that if he does so, he'll cum immediately.
"C'mon princess... You gotta cum for daddy~"
The way you move your body, riding him slowly and sensually, has you seeing stars. You have never experienced anything like that.
You giggle playfully... the laboured expression on his face is both sexy and adorable.
"P- Pedro... I~"
Feeling your body tensing up, Pedro knows you're close. He leans in and kisses you deeply as he starts to meet your movements with his own, hips thrusting eagerly against your own.
You moan when you feel his cock hit that spongy spot deep inside you. You shiver and grasp at his arms for support, fingernails pressing into his skin.
So, with a final growl of effort, he pushes through the waves of ecstasy, filling you up completely as he cries out his release. His cock throbs violently inside you, spurting load after load of hot cum deep into your hungry pussy. The feeling is indescribable... It's raw and primal.
You're trembling more now, your skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat but you still haven't cummed. A little more stimulation is all you need. He did come but doesn't plan on giving up until you do too.
"Oh, baby doll!"
Pedro feels a pang of emotion in his chest. The man's heart races, concern etching lines onto his handsome face. What if he can't make you orgasm?
Noticing his apprehension you cease riding him for a moment.
"Need to catch your breath?"
He simply nods.
His cock is already starting to harden again as he looks at your flushed face.
"Oh yes, baby girl. Daddy just wanted to recover real quick."
Running his fingers through your hair, he smirks mischievously.
"I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight tomorrow, my little whore. Do you understand?"
This sudden burst of dominance has you reeling. His goal is simple. He cummed. Now it's your turn.
Pedro starts thrusting into you hard and fast, his cock hitting all the right spots. He leans down to bite your neck, leaving a mark as he claims you as his own.
"You're mine, baby girl. All mine."
Your moans echo in the space you two occupy.
Feeling your body respond to his roughness, Pedro picks up the pace even more. His hips slam against yours time and time again.
"Tell daddy how much you love it when he fucks his little slut!"
You start writhing, tremblingly, as your own climax consumes you. You stutter his name. Only his name.
"Pedro... I- I love... I love it!!!"
Feeling your tight pussy squeezing him as you cum, Pedro knows you lost control as well. He slams into you, this time erupting without shame or guilt.
"Fuck yes baby! That's it! Take all of daddy's cum!"
"Oh... Oh God~"
"Did my little slut enjoy that? Did she cum hard for her daddy?"
Pedro kisses you passionately, his hands roaming your body. He holds you close as he slowly pulls out of you, his thick cock still pulsing with each jet of cum that shoots out and lands on your stomach and legs.
"Shhh... baby doll," he soothes softly, kissing your temple before nuzzling into your neck with newfound gentleness.
"I didn't mean to be so rough you. It's just that you're so fucking perfect... It overwhelmed me for a moment."
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peterparkersnose · 2 years
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Feeling You
pairing: Joel Miller x fem!reader
word count: 3.6k
warnings: david’s episode and themes along with that, reader is chained up, david is literally creepy and disgusting, reader kills a person, description of death, angst, joel cannot physically feel anything, trauma description, ellie’s aftermath of david, religious trauma, mentions of weapons
a/n hi season finale my life is over at least we got mando still 💪
summary Y/N confesses something to Joel she shouldn’t have when she saw him awake for the first time in weeks after his accident
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read time: 13 mins 10 seconds
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The feeling of panic woke you up. The strange dream you couldn’t remember faded as your senses came back to you. It was cold and your head was pounding. The cold air nipped your nose. Your clothes felt like there was space between the fabric and your skin, you could feel the stinging cold prick your skin. You lay flat on what you could only imagine was a bed. It wasn’t comfortable whatsoever and only made your back stiff. Joel’s flannel from the night before had kept you warm enough to survive. Gaining the muster to move, you tried to yank your feet on the floor. Your right leg was cuffed to the bed pole.
“She’s awake,” you heard someone call, and commotion started around you. Blinking your eyes and trying to adjust to what was happening, the noise of a padlock being opened distracted you. “Good morning,”
You recognized that voice. The man that you and Ellie encountered in the woods. What was his name…David? How did you even get here?
“I’m glad to see your up.”
You scuffled on your hands, propping yourself up in bed. “Where is she?” you shivered, moving your free leg up to your chest. The only other thought that consumed your brain was the little girl you were protecting.
“You must be cold. Here,” David said, snapping his fingers. One of his friends fed a blanket through the bars that were currently entrapping you. He draped the blanket over you. You hated it, but had no choice but to accept it.
“Where is she?” you reiterated. “She’s fine.” David ensured to you. “All comfy like you.”
“This is far from comfortable.” you hissed at him. “Just, tell me a few things and I can make you feel real comfortable.” David said. His tone made your stomach drop.
“Where is he?” David asked, mimicking your insistent question.
You knew he meant Joel. That’s all they wanted. Joel. You and Ellie were just the sad accessories that came along with him. “With the rest of the group.” you lied. David sucked his teeth. “Tell the truth,” he said, standing up over you. Scooting over in the small bed, you tried to put as much distance between you and the man.
“God doesn’t look down well on liars,”
‘What a freak’ you thought to yourself. You remembered reading old stories about cults that mimicked his teachings, or what he had preached at you the night he found you and Ellie.
“What kind of god makes our world a living hell?” you taunted. “Why would you believe in some shit cause? Have you seen what is out there?”
A subtle but dark smile came to David’s face. He brought up his hand and promptly slapped you on the cheek. Hard. The all too familiar needle like feeling seeped in on your cheek. The taste of blood slowly began to form in your mouth.
“We all need a father. We all need some guidance.” David said, bringing his hand up to your face again. You winced, hoping he wouldn’t strike you again. Instead, his fingers grabbed your chin. “There’s always time to repent,”
He inspected your face, forcing it to turn in whichever angle he would like. Blood filled your gums and began to dribble down your face as he squeezed your cheeks together. “Such a pretty thing,” he sighed. You spat in his face. He sighed and wiped the blood and spit mixture from his forehead with his sleeve.
He let go and stepped back. “I see your confidence, I see your leadership, I see myself in you.” he explained, taking another step back. “We could lead, you know. Bring greatness to this group. I could give you a future. A future with me.”
A new kind of fear began as you slowly began to realize what he truly wanted from you. The only thing you were good for in his eyes, maybe besides your flesh. His eyes seemed to undress you under the few layers of clothes you had on. They had taken your coat the previous night and you were left in your jeans and one of Joel’s flannels you stole from his pack to stay warm.
“Just give him up and I’ll give you the world.”
You sat silently. It was obvious that David was getting annoyed. “He’s just your old dad. It’s probably better if my guys get to him before the-”
“He’s not my dad.” you said harshly. “Well,” David laughed. “My apologies.”
He dragged the stool from the corner of the cell to the side of the bed. He straddled the stool and got a little too close for comfort. “Is he her dad?” he asked. You shook your head no. “Uncle, brother, cousin…? I’m trying to understand the relationship so I don’t hurt the little girl too much.”
You looked away and focused on the painted white brick wall. He was searching for leverage, an advantage you were not about to give him. The breathing exercises were not working when you could smell David’s rancid breath on you. “Oh,” he said with a smirk. “I get it.”
“Your with him.”
Closing your eyes, you moved your hand over your face. “Aren’t you a little young for such an old geezer?” he asked. You shook your head no. What a fucking narcissist. This man had to be Joel’s age, and from the looks of how much hair he had left I would say, maybe, older.
The age gap was the one thing keeping you from going the extra step and pursuing Joel. The mutual attraction had been present for a while, but you both were too afraid to face the facts. And now that he was as good as dead, the mere thought of what could have been stung harder than it should have.
“If your not gonna talk, then I’m just going to move to your little friend.” David sighed, realizing he wasn’t going to get what he wanted out of you without some sort of leverage. His original plan hadn’t worked.
“No,” you called out, wanting to swallow your words back down. David’s back turned around again. “Then tell me pretty girl,” he said, each step echoing in the jail cell as he got closer to you. “Are you fucking him?” he asked, his nose almost touching yours. With lips pursed and your eyes tightly closed, you shook your head no. Your face rose with heat at the mere implication. 
“Liar.” he spit at you. He left you once again and sat outside your cage with his friends.
You began to doze off. Caged to the bed like a dog and freezing wasn’t the best headspace to stay in. You tried to imagine the penicillin Ellie came back with had some sort of super power and resurrected Joel so he could come kill this red headed motherfucker that wouldn’t stop staring you down. So that he could rescue you and Ellie and you could return to Jackson to get proper treatment and then take Ellie to the lab that was supposedly in Salt Lake City. So Joel could return to you and just be there and be alive. You missed Joel endlessly, even though you were just with him hours prior. And the last time you saw him, he was as good as gone.
As you were dreaming about the unlikely future, the men began to stir. One left, and another followed. There was muffled arguing down the hallway. David was getting angry about all the commotion and went to see what was happening.
“She what?” you heard him yell down the hall. “You mean to tell me she’s escaped?”
Your lungs caught your breath too hard when you heard him say that. She’s escaped? Ellie?
“Watch her.” David commanded, poking his head in the room and yelling at a man who you believed to be named James. He sat down in David’s stool and stared at you. You slowly began to get up, your leg chain dangling off the bed. James didn't say a word. 
Suddenly, two gunshots rang out. You grabbed for the white painted bars blocking you from leaving, and tripping on your leg chain. “No!” you screamed, pulling yourself back up. “No,” you said quieter, the reality of Ellie’s death started to become a little too real for your comfort. 
James had arisen, his hand rested on his gun in it’s holster as he anxiously stared at the door. He took a step back, contemplating what he was going to do. His back was turned to you. Another shot rang out, and James jumped backwards. In the hassle, the keychain holding your key to freedom was conveniently sticking out of his back pocket and was accessible to you. Without hesitation, you grabbed the keys and along fell out his knife. 
James was quick to react, grabbing your hand with the keys interlocked in your fingers. He grunted as your other hand met the set of keys and started to pry his cold, lanky fingers off the keys. James was hesitant to drop his gun, it would have been in reach for you. He was clueless that his knife was in reach where he couldn't see. 
“Fine,” he said, giving up. He let go and let you have the keys. “The second you try anything…” 
He looked over at his gun. He was still level with you on the ground. Sliding the keys behind you, you quickly grabbed the knife from behind him. Panic flashed in his eyes as you grabbed his neck and swiftly impaled his neck with the knife. He began to choke, and you pushed it in once again. His gun fell from his hand as he uselessly pawed at his neck. 
After a few tries with the various keys, you finally unlocked your leg from the chain that had been wrapped around your ankle all night. Quickly, you escaped your jail cell. You grabbed James’s knife from his neck and wiped it off on your jeans. Also, you stole his gun. 
You were shaking. Freezing and adrenaline wasn't the best combination at the moment. You were unsure of where to go. Where was Ellie? Where would Ellie go? You were all she had left. The cold hallway with a door with light pouring out under it seemed like the smart choice. 
When you opened the door, you were hit like a brick wall with a gust of wind blowing snow in your direction. Your arm immediately came to cover your eyes as you hastily made your way through the snow cloud. Just as it was about to clear, two arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you out in to the open. 
After grunting and fighting what you prayed wasn’t David or one of his associates, your hands were held behind your back tightly. Screaming and wriggling, you couldn’t hear the voice of your new partner in crime trying to calm you. 
“Y/N!” you finally heard. The haze around you seemed to settle. “Hey! It’s me,” 
You opened your eyes from the struggle and thought you were hallucinating from the evident dehydration and starvation. His hands now rested on your shoulders as he looked at you with the first inkling of real fear you had ever seen behind his eyes. 
“Are you alright?” Joel asked in a gutted tone, staring at the formation of a red handprint on your face. The fear turned into rage behind his eyes. All you could do was stare in to his face and enjoy the safe feeling once again. An unintentional sob came from you. Joel quickly embraced you. 
His hand shook as he cradled your head in his hand. “I got you,” he whispered, holding your body tight against his. “T-they still have her.” you whispered in his ear. 
Joel’s body stiffened. 
“Where?” he asked, letting you go. He reached for his coat, sliding it off his arms. “I don’t know I was trying to find her and—”
Joel noticed your hands and grabbed for them. They were covered in fresh blood. “Fuck,” he whimpered. “Go find her.” you said, pulling your hands away from his. “But—”
“Go,” you trembled. 
Joel’s longing look was one you were never going to forget. He saw the gun tucked in your pants and gave you a nod. “Hide,” he said in a hushed voice. 
As he was about to leave, you called out his name. He turned to you with a hurtful sigh. He was limping. Swallowing, you spit out the words to the man you had fallen for across this journey across the country. “I love you,” 
He was taken aback. It was definitely sudden and unexpected. His lips parted slightly in shock. Joel’s need to protect Ellie was strong at the moment. He didn’t have time to give in to these childish antics at the moment.
“I…”
His feelings for you wanted to stay, but his duty to Ellie, his duty to Sarah was more important than a silly crush on a silly girl. This whole time he thought he was just being delusional. All the little things, little moments the two of you shared he thought was just out of pure alliance and survival. 
Nausea filled you as you as you realized he had to go. He wasn’t going to say it back; from everything you knew about Joel Miller, you should have expected this exact reaction. He was unable to love, unable to just say it back to someone who was significantly younger than him and was a stranger just six months ago. Joel would regret this moment for the rest of his life. He stared at you in disbelief, unsure of what to do. He watched as your lips pursed and your hands wrap around your stomach, trying to keep yourself warm. 
“I’m sorry.” he muttered, turning away from you. 
You watched as you zipped his coat up as another gust of wind threw snow around the open space and he was gone.
Quickly, your eyes darted for a hiding spot. The survival instinct came in and tried its best to shut out the hurt you had just caused yourself. An old heat radiator stood a few feet to your left, in the direction Joel was. A produce crate covered in snow was another foot away and you picked it up, placing it next to the radiator. You sat on the freezing ground, clutching the gun and praying for something to go right today. 
A terrible scream erupted in the town’s square. You recognized that scream anywhere. Ellie, the little girl you had been with practically since her birth was in trouble. Your heart pounded in your chest as you jumped from your hiding space and ran towards the screaming. When you arrived, you stopped a few feet behind them. Joel was holding Ellie just as he was holding you moments before, moments before you had just fucked everything up. A lump rose in your throat as you feared the worst. 
“Ellie!” you yelled loudly and clear, catching the little girl’s attention. She looked up at you and wailed, her face was covered in blood. Almost falling on your knees mid run to her, she left Joel’s arms and collapsed in to yours. 
“Oh, baby.” you murmured, brushing her hair our of her face. She held on to you and sobbed in to your chest. You offered soft words of assurance, unaware of what monstrosities Ellie had just survived. Slowly rocking her back and forth, your hand intertwined with hers as you tried to calm her down. Brief words through the sobs Ellie let out broke your heart. 
“Y/N-” Joel said with a raspy voice. You shot him a look of hurt as you rested your chin on Ellie’s head. You slowly shook your head in disappointment. “It’s okay, Ellie.” you whispered in her ear. “Your safe now.”
“We really should go,” Joel urged, anxiously looking around. You closed your eyes, ignoring him. Ellie’s wails had subsided, but her grip on your waist hadn’t let up. 
“Let’s go,” you whispered to her, using the sleeves of Joel’s coat to wipe some of the blood off of her face. Joel was right. You all were heavily exposed at the moment. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
--
It was now night. The horse was gone, and Joel was barely able to keep upright for long. You had found a cave while trying to hunt down a rabbit. The three of you were going to rest there for the night. 
Ellie hadn’t left your side. Her hand was in yours as you made your way up the cold mountainside. Slowly, the three of you trudged upward. 
The rabbit you had caught for dinner was average. Joel was hurt, but still useful. He made a fire and helped Ellie get comfortable. She was in dire need for a good night of sleep. Hell, you all were in dire need for a good night of sleep. No words had been spoken between you and Joel since the small town. 
Ellie’s head rested in your lap. You sat against the wall of the cave and watched Ellie as she slowly took in breaths. Joel was fixated on the flames, making sure they were still roaring strong. 
“You should get some sleep,” Joel said, breaking the tension. You shrugged. “I-I can take first watch,” he offered. “No.” you said back bitterly. 
“Y/N,” Joel sighed, adjusting his tone to yours. “Are you going to be bitter the rest of this trip?” he asked bluntly. Your head snapped to look up at him. Joel raised an eyebrow. 
“I just need some time, Joel.” 
“Well, you kinda said it at the worst time possible.” he muttered, using the ground to stand up and fetch another log of wood for the fire. “Well,” you seethed. “I thought you were dead. When I saw you…I had to.” 
You sighed and closed your eyes as you heard him toss the wood on the fire. 
Joel’s shoulders slumped as he slid down back against the wall. “Yeah, I know.” he said heavily. “It’s just hard for me to hear things like that.”
You nodded. “I’m sorry. I should have been more… considerate.” you apologized, searching for the right word. Joel was right; wrong time and wrong place. Stretching your legs out towards the fire, Ellie stirred in her sleep. You and Joel stared at the girl, waiting for her to calm. Her grasp on your hand tightened, but she seemed to fall back into her hazy state.
“I failed her,” Joel said, a tinge of sadness backed up his tone. “Joel, no.” you sighed. “I-I should have been there. I should have been more careful and…”
His face scrunched as he placed his hand on his forehead, shielding his eyes. Was he… no. Was he?
Slowly, you moved Ellie off your lap. She let out a few grunts of protest, but you placed your backpack under her head. You scuffled next to Joel. He seemed to jump at your touch. “Joel,” you whispered, grabbing his hand in yours. Tears welled in his eyes. “I failed her Y/N.” 
The definition of her was falling on a fine line between Ellie and Sarah. 
“No you didn’t. You saved us, Joel. You saved her.” 
The two of you stared at Ellie. She was sound asleep. Ellie was now clean, you had helped her clean up in a freezing stream. It almost felt like a proud parent moment in some odd, fucked up way. The two of you staring at your miracle kid. She had survived and endured so much for her age. It was almost odd to see her resting so peacefully. The knowledge that the two of you got her there safely was enough to keep the hope flowing.
Your other hand fell over the one you had holding on to his, and your head rested on his shoulder. 
“I love that kid so fucking much,” Joel blurted out, his free hand moving to wipe a tear out of his face. “I know.” you said, feeling the emotions in you begin to rise. “I love her too,” you whispered, your eyebrows falling soft. Joel tried to keep it in, but a sudden gasp for air made it evident that he was crying. 
Sitting with him was the best thing you could do. Your hand rubbed over his knuckles that had healed from the events of leaving the Boston QZ. Slowly, testing your limits, your arm wrapped around his shoulders. He moved his head in to the nape of your neck and sighed. He was hiding behind you from his feelings and the world. You were his metaphorical escape. 
Joel’s mind wandered to all the previous moments the two of you had shared. Awkward, brief stares at each other in the Boston QZ periodically before you two actually knew each other. When you bandaged him up after a bullet graze. Your hands were so soft and you worked so carefully, making sure the process was as painless as you could make it. Or when you shared your last meal with him. You ripped the disgusting piece of jerky up and insisted he ate it. The two of you were sitting in what used to be a park and was watching Ellie play on the fragile equipment when it happened. One of the few moments she actually got to live like a kid. 
“Y/N?” Joel whispered in your ear. Turning to look at him, his eyes were red and puffy. “I do love you, you know.” 
A thin lipped smile rose to your face. You nodded. “I’m not very good at these kinds of things… I’m sorry.” he sighed.
You rejected his apology and rested your head back on his shoulder. “I know. Me too,” you managed to say, with a slight chuckle at the end. Your hand wrapping over his slowly turned in to his hand intertwining with yours. “We’ll get through this. Together.” you assured him. Joel nodded, leaning in to kiss you softly on the forehead. You felt a rush of happiness fill you at this small gesture. 
Joel was a hard man to crack, you had known that since the first day you met him. His stubbornness was relentless. This meant the world to you. 
Now as the two of you lay side by side, you felt him wrap his arms around you. Joel was so warm, it was comforting. He pulled you close, not caring what Ellie would think when she awoke. You both closed their eyes, praying this remote cave was safe enough to not stay up and watch for any danger. And it was. 
Joel was healing physically, but the shattered man inside began repairs as the night moved on. He knew he could do anything, feel anything, and try to be even an inkling of the man he used to be with you at his side.
tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy
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crumbledcastle28 · 2 years
Text
Din Djarin: Bright and Shiny
Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader (she/her)
Excerpt: “Do you like It?” he whispered, and you swore you were dreaming. You had pictured him like this so many times—so many times—but it was real. This was fucking real and you were fucking on fire.”
“Yes,” you said, breathily. “I do.”
You were locked on his helmet so badly that you didn’t see his right hand creeping up to frame your face with it. Holding your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, forcing you to focus on his face.
“What do you like about it?”
Warnings: smut smut smut and more smut (me writing a dom man?), with softness at the end. The Crest is aliveee. Grogu isn’t here yet.
A/N: Happy Dincember everyone, aka my absolute favorite tumblr tradition. To all the authors updating prompts every day…are you Gods?
If you’d like to leave a like, comment, ask, or reblog, it would be very appreciated <3
Pedro Masterlist
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There was no bigger hypocrite in the galaxy than the infamous Mandalorian.
Blood-crusted beskar coated the majority of his body every time he placed his feet on solid ground—every time— in addition to the metaphorical armor that was his demeanor. Solid, unbreakable, stern, terrifying.
It was not until you had spent a few months as his “partner” at the Guild, thus living together on his quickly crumbling Razor Crest, that you were met with his true doctrine of hypocrisy.
It was as if every time he elected to remove a piece of his armor for you, he knocked down one of his walls. First was the night he removed the small shoulder and shin pieces, the same night he elected to crack his first joke. Next was the dark-browned chest, sharing with you that he was a foundling in his Covert. Then the belt, covered in more weapons and weight than you had ever seen, and he told the story of his first kill. Then the wrists, along with the story of his toughest kill. The one that haunted him as he attempted to fall asleep at night. Then his gloves, with the story of the first woman he had ever fell in love with.
“You remind me of her,” he had said to you, “except you have actually stayed.” He had said the last part quickly before immediately exiting the pit to hide in his “room” for a few hours.
You remained in your copilot seat, staring off into the stars of hyperspace, unable to think at all.
Slowly—very slowly— the Mandalorian had revealed more and more of his true self to you. The one who would sneakily hum around the Crest, make sure to turn your heated blanket on early on cold nights, and always—always—avoid spiced food like the plague.
“It upsets my stomach,” he had defended, and you scoffed in return.
After such long travel-times on jobs, you would get so used to the softness of his true personality that when he would have to put his armor back on—literally and figuratively— you almost felt like you were looking and speaking to a different person.
The heat in your lower stomach felt that way too.
It flared when he was soft, but the switch from the man you knew to the Mandalorian always reminded you both of when you first met him and what he was truly capable of.
Plus, seeing the width of his shoulders accentuated by the most expensive and impenetrable metal known to man was not bad either.
You had been sitting at the usual meeting spot with Greef, ready to discuss the dozen pucks already sitting in front of you. You were still due for a new job after the boat-load of beskar given to you for the little green baby— which definitely was not still on your conscious— and Mando was running a bit late due to the crafting of his new armor. You waited anxiously to see the results.
“I have never held this much in my own hands before,” he had said to you, and you beamed up at him as he spoke. “This will likely be enough for an entirely new set.”
You had no idea how right he was.
You sat at the booth with Greef, making pleasant enough conversation, but mostly daydreaming of what Mando was seeing, feeling, touching. The pleasure to watch his own armor be crafted by hand, you could not even imagine what that would be like.
You took a sip of your drink—one that Greef had been so gracious to buy for you—and let it burn as you set it down on the sticky wooden table. As soon as the glass touched the wood, the entire cantina silenced, and all eyes went to the entrance. Your eyes followed the crowd’s, unable to see for certain what everyone was looking at.
It only took a few seconds for you to realize that the “what” was actually a “who,” and that “who” was the kindest man you had ever known wrapped in wealth, power, and impenetrability.
It was a good thing you had set your drink down, because it would have dropped to the floor, shattering into millions of pieces, because he was the sexist thing you had ever laid your eyes on.
This was the Mandalorian.
You thought his previous armor was intimidating—small shoulder pieces, a wide chest piece, and even wider thigh pieces. He was both a distraction to you and a threat to everyone else in that armor.
But now, now he fully covered, head to toe, in shimmering silver. His waist the tiniest you had seen it, with his shoulders as wide as they had ever looked. Almost the entirety of his legs were covered now, and even his helmet gleamed and glistened in the light. He walked straighter, stood taller, and stepped slower. Like he was enjoying this.
He had never looked more lethal, and with all of the eyes on him, his own were on you.
You stared back at him as he made his way, mouth slightly parted, and legs squeezing tighter and tighter together with each step he took. The typical slight steam in your stomach at the sight of him was now boiling hot, running through the blood in your body faster than you could process. The lack of blood flow to your brain caused it to wipe itself clean and focus solely on the warrior in front of you. Your hands began to shake and your mouth parched.
You were speechless. A deadly bounty hunter stunned speechless.
He said nothing as he scooched his way into the booth, and you remained looking at him even when his body was turned towards Greef.
“I want my next job,” he said.
Greef said something, something witty, but you didn’t hear it. Couldn’t hear it.
“I want my next job,” Mando repeated. Amban rifle in his lap, leaning slightly forward.
Holy fuck the heat in you.
He grabbed a puck and began walking out, turning back to signal you to follow. You stood slowly, thanked Greef, and exited the Cantina, eyes locked on the expanse of his back the entire walk to the Crest.
~*~
It wasn’t two seconds after Mando put the security lock on the Crest that he had you cornered with his words.
“Is something the matter?” he asked, taking a step closer to you. You were both in the cock pit, ready to take off, and you were standing in front of the controls.
“No,” you said, meeting his gaze as fiercely as you could. Your hands were glued to your sides and your fists squeezed so hard they stung.
“Okay,” he said, so fucking softly it hurt you. He was still making his way closer to you, forcing you to look up.
“Okay,” you responded, and you thought that was it. He would back off.
But your fucking eyes betrayed you, darting down to the expanse of his body, and he laughed.
“Do you like It?” he whispered, and you swore you were dreaming. You had pictured him like this so many times—so many times—but it was real. This was fucking real and you were fucking on fire.
“Yes,” you said, breathily. “I do.”
You were locked on his helmet so badly that you didn’t see his right hand creeping up to frame your face with it. Holding your cheeks between his thumb and the rest of his fingers, forcing you to focus on his face.
“What do you like about it?”
You could barely breathe enough to respond. Your throat instantly dried, and every word of any language was lifted from you.
“I—I like—” you started, swallowing “—I like the chest.”
“The chest,” he said, bringing your hand up to the cold metal. “What about it?”
You traced your fingers down it, still forced to look up at him by his leather glove. “I like how wide it makes you. How powerful.”
He stood there in silence before asking, “what else?”
“The legs,” you whispered. “I really like the legs.”
He nearly growled. “Why Y/N? Tell me.”
Your name on his lips at this stage of the game was too much.
“It makes them look big. Strong,” you said, heart in your throat. “I like that.”
He softened his grip on your face and moved his hand to the back of your neck. “I know you do.” He then tapped twice on his helmet. “Heat signature.”
Your face fell and paled.
How long had he—
“I’ve known since the first day I met you,” he said, massaging your neck. “Just never knew how to bring it up.”
“Why now?” you whispered, voice deep from the pleasure of his fingers.
“Because this is the strongest it’s ever been for you,” he replied. “And for me. Seeing you watching me like that…”
He brought his hand back to frame your face.
“…I’ve never wanted anything more in my life than you in that moment.”
He started pulling you forward by your face.
“And now i have you, don’t I?”
Yes he did, so much of you, parts of you you didn’t even know about before him.
“Yes.”
He let go of you and sat in the pilot’s seat, spreading his legs.
“So ruin me, Y/N. Ruin this bright and shiny armor.”
You practically jumped on him.
You immediately mounted him, wrapping your hands around his shoulders, and felt all around the metal. Your breaths fogged up his helmet as you did, practically moaning at the chance to finally feel the expanse of his body. He kept his hands firmly on your hips, watching your face as you panted and whined in his.
After a few moments he picked you up and sat you on his right thigh.
“Go on.”
You immediately rolled your hips, fully moaning at the feeling, and rolled them faster and faster and deeper and deeper.
Your head began tipping back as the metal ground against your clit perfectly, but Mando pulled your face forward to rest your forehead on his.
“Mando—”
“It’s Din,” he said firmly, squeezing your hips enough to bruise. “Say it.”
You rolled your hips over and over, desperation dripping off your voice. “Din.”
It was then that he released a moan, ripped your pants and underwear off of you, and took control of your hips on his thigh. He placed you down just right and tears coated your eyes, sweat poured from your pours, and with one inch of incline from his leg, you shattered.
Your forehead fell against his, panting and whining “Din” over and over again as he kept you moving on him through your orgasm. You felt yourself drip down onto the floor and run down his legs, and your eyes rolled at the thought.
You held onto the fabric around his neck for dear life, gathering as much breath as you could, and Din just let you.
It was then that he started to feel you up.
He moved from your hips to your bare thighs, back up to your clothed breasts, then to your face to brush back your hair, and finally back down to your thighs. He gathered your drip from his thigh onto his leather glove. He brought it underneath his helmet, and your mouth dropped open.
He sucked it slowly, not making any noise except a slight groan. “I knew I was right.”
You swallowed, still panting in both exhaustion and shock. “Right?”
“I knew every part of you was perfect.”
Your eyes fluttered closed, and you smiled nice and wide. You had a feeling he was smiling too.
It was this sense of elation and euphoria that gave you the freedom not to think before sliding your hand over his hardened bulge and raising your eyebrows in question.
He chuckled, which somehow melted you more than anything he had done previously.
“Not right now,” he said sweetly, and pulled you into his chest. You cozied up into him before he slowly lifted you, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. “I don’t think I’d last two seconds.”
You smiled, humming. “Okay Din.”
His body tensed a bit when you said that, and you wondered if you crossed some sort of boundary, but he continued on his way to his bed. He set you in It, wrapping you in his sheets, and grabbing a towel to clean you off. You got a good show of yourself stained and running all over his thigh and nearly jumped on him again.
“Like I said,” he countered, likely picking up on the change in your temperature, “I wouldn’t last two seconds.”
You nodded with a smile and he took the towel to the laundry room before returning to you, sitting on the side of the bed.
“Get some rest,” he said. “We have a job to do in the morning.”
He stood, making his way back to the cockpit, but you called out to him.
“Mando, wait,” you said, and he froze before slowly turning back around. “Are we okay? Was that…okay?”
He paused, leaning himself into the doorway, sighing as always, and said, “Y/N, I wouldn’t trade the world for the last hour I’ve had with you.”
You enjoyed this forward, talkative Din much more than you anticipated to.
“And call me Din,” he said. “Please.”
He then left you, starting up the Crest to make its way to hyperspace, and you drifted slowly into sleep, still on a high. You finally fell asleep to the feeling of a warm body wrapping itself around you, and a deep voice whispering in your ear, “We’re okay, Y/N. We’re okay.”
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absurdthirst · 2 years
Text
One Night on Tatooine {Mando x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word Count: 8.4k
Warnings: Mentions of safe words, vaginal sex, cream pie, oral sex (male receiving), helmet riding, praise kink, removing helmets, mentions of marriage/children
Comments: When Mando comes back to Mos Eisley to have Peli work on his mech droid, he finds her gone and you watching her bay. When he agrees to let you do the work, he finds he wants you for more than just a mechanic. 
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers​
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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
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You look up when you see the ship land in the bay. Peli had left you in charge for the next few days while she went to fetch new parts. A rare trip outside of the spaceport for Peli, still not leaving Tatooine but she had ventured outside of Mos Eisley. The ship is slick, one you recognize from Peli’s stories and when the infamous Mandalorian appears, you are taken back. 
Peli has told you stories during your brief employment in her spaceport of the brave Mandalorian and his foundling, Grogu, and you must admit you’d been intrigued and eager to meet the beskar clad legend. When his boots hit the sand, he’s just as intimidating as you imagined and he doesn’t hesitate to approach you. “Where’s Peli?” He asks, the child in his arms coos at you. 
“Peli isn’t here. She went to purchase new parts. I am her new mechanic. How can I help?” You offer, knowing that this Mandalorian will insist on Peli but you will try to accommodate him.
Din huffs out a grumble under his breath. He had expected Peli to be here, the one that is most familiar with the starfighter - considering she helped him put the damn thing together. Grogu squirms, reaching out towards you and coos again. “She doesn’t want to hold you.” He murmurs, setting the child on the sandy floor to go explore while he straightens back up to look at you. Sighing, he contemplates going somewhere else because he knows he will be distracted by you and he was planning on leaving the kid here while he found a quick job to pick up. Now he was going to be sitting at the hanger. “What do you know about droids?” He asks, pointing at the mech droid he had broken down and added to the ship.
You stand up straighter, knowing that he is assessing your capabilities and you can understand that. “What don’t I know about droids?'' is the question. Peli hired me because of my expertise. Where did you pick that guy up from? Looks like he’s been through the worst of it.” You can already tell the droid needs an overall from body to drive. “You want me to fix ‘em up?” You ask, looking down at the child who is now by your feet, tapping on your boot. “Hey sweetheart. Aren’t you just the cutest little thing in the galaxy?” You coo, bending down to caress the child’s ear.
Din watches as Grogu gives you a sharp toothed grin, reaching for the shiny zipper on your boots. “Grogu.” He reaches into his belt and pulls out the silver ball from the Razor Crest. “Play with this and don’t mess with her zippers.” His helmet tips back up towards you. “He likes to get in the way.” He warns, knowing the child will do what he wants despite his warnings.
“He’s cute enough to get away with it.” You chuckle when the kid plays with the silver ball in his hand, almost cooing in victory. “So…you want me to fix that droid or are you gonna wait on Peli to come back?” You can tell her doesn’t trust you and you won’t push him.
He sighs and looks around again, planting his hands on his hips. He wishes Peli was here but he can’t wait for too long. “If Peli trusts you….” He trails off, looking back at you and is struck by how pretty you are. It’s been a long time since the pull of attraction curled in his belly and he’s slightly shocked. He’s not had time or opportunity to do anything about it since having the child with him. “I’ll go get the kid something to eat and then come back.”
“Very well. Whatever you want, Mando, I’m here for you.” You tell him, sensing the frustration that seems to vibrate from his very being and if you can lessen it by fixing the droid, then you will feel like you’ve helped him. “See you soon, little man.” You coo at Grogu, already enamored by him.
You shouldn’t have said that to him. His cock twitches in interest at the x-rated images that immediately flood his mind. Making him grateful that he has to bend down and pick up the little one. Instead of answering you, he turns and starts walking towards the hanger doors, trying to banish the peak of flesh he had gotten from your mechanic’s suit not being zipped up the entire way. “Let’s get you something to eat.” He tells Grogu, needing to get his mind off of what he would rather be doing. 
You watch the Mandalorian go, his shoulders broad and gait strong, and you can’t deny the thrill of attraction that rushes through you. You wonder what he’s like under all that beskar. His voice is modulated but sexy and you know you’ll be thinking of him in your bunk later.
Once the kid has eaten, Din brings him back to the hanger. Unwilling to be on the streets in Mos Eisley for too long considering he continuously has problems on Tatooine. He should get a transport to see Boba, but he honestly wants to see how you are doing with the droid. It had given him fits and that was why he had come to Peli. Ignoring the thought that he really wants to see you work. 
When Mando returns, you have already started working on the droid, stripping the unit down to the bare essentials so you can clean everything, work on the programming and get him working. “How’s it coming along?” He asks and you look up from where you are kneeling down on the floor. 
“It’s coming. Just needs some TLC.” You are level with his crotch and you swallow, briefly wondering if the Mandalorian only takes off the codpiece to fuck or if he likes to blindfold a partner, you wonder if he’s ever gotten a blowjob. You shake your head, trying to ignore your train of thought despite unconsciously leaning closer to his crotch.
Din grunts, feeling his cock starts to harden when he imagines you with his cock down your pretty little throat. You would look good wrapped around him. Thankfully his helmet covers the riot of thoughts and expressions. “Good.” He rasps out, thinking about something else that needs some TLC. The child recaptures his attention and squirms to be let down. “Be good.” He warns the mischievous creature, knowing that he will get into trouble in a heartbeat.
You swallow harshly at the rasp you can hear through the modulation. The child waddles over to you, cooing and you reach out to pat his head. “You want a droid friend?” You ask, knowing the child must want friends that don’t involve his adoptive father. “I will make sure this one protects you and is there for you.” You tell the child who grins and waddles off towards the bunk area. He’s clearly been here before. 
“I’ll get him to bed. It’s been a long day.” Mando declares, making his way towards the child and he scoops him up to carry him to the bunks Peli has set up for guests. You wonder if the Mandalorian will rest in there or if he will remain in your company while you continue working on the droid. 
“There’s some food in the cantina area if you want to eat in privacy.” You offer, “I just cooked up some gornt.”
“Thank you.” Din appreciates that you understand without being rude that he would need privacy to eat. He might after he makes use of the sonic shower. It’s been awhile since he’s been able to use one and he needs to take a piss. Setting the kid down on the bunk, he softens as Grogu immediately snuggles into the blankets and closes his eyes. “Night kid.” He murmurs softly, smiling at his answering coo before he steps out of the bunk room and enters the small ‘fresher to clean up.
You decide to finish working on the droid in the morning. The parts have been cleaned and you need to reprogram the mech but you don’t have it in you to do that right now. With a sigh, you stand up and make your way into the compound, surprised to find the Mandalorian coming out of the fresher in just his flight suit, beskar no doubt secured somewhere. “Oh that’s good timing. I was about to have a shower.”
Din inhales sharply, the top of your suit has been stripped down, revealing a thin and worn tank top underneath. Large amounts of skin on display. And you’re sweating. He swallows, turned on by the sight of the dewy hue of your skin and if he were a man who could take off his helmet, he would run his tongue along the drop and see if it tasted as good as it looked. His cock immediately starts to stiffen and instead of letting you by, his hand comes up to block your path. “Are you done?” He demands, half afraid you are.
You raise your eyebrows at the arm that blocks your path, your stomach twisting with both nerves and anticipation. You’ve been feeling this tension between you and the Mandalorian since he arrived. “I’m not finished yet. I just cleaned it up. I gotta, uh, reprogram tomorrow.” You confirm, chest heaving slightly as your heart thumps.
He watches you closely, noticing the way your breathing picks up, his HUD showing that your pulse has increased and your body temperature is rising. You don’t seem worried, you seem like you are waiting for something, anticipating it. “So we have to stay tonight.” He speaks slowly, his voice dipping down slightly into a deeper pitch. 
You shiver at the way his modulated voice lowers. “Is that so?” You hum, crossing your arms, making your cleavage more pronounced. You’re on the precipice of something and you wonder if he will make a move or if he will leave you hanging.
His helmet tips down, pointed at your chest and his own breathing picks up slightly. Heart rate spiking, not unlike when he’s nearly caught a bounty. Slowly, he drags his gaze back up to your face, watching you for a moment to see if you would squirm or drop your arms. You don’t. His blood rushes south and starts to fill his cock. “Say no now.” He growls out, giving you a warning. “Or tell me your safe word.”
His words send a rush straight through you and you gasp in response. “My safe word is rebel.” You inform him, suddenly dripping wet with need for him. The anticipation makes you exhale as you wait for his next move.
Din’s hand shoots out, grabbing your wrist and turning both of you so that he is pushing you into the ‘fresher. It would give you some privacy so you aren’t exposed if anyone comes into the hanger. His groan filtering out from under the helmet as he pushes you over the sink and presses up against your ass.
You gasp in shock before you moan when you feel his body pressed against you. Loving how you can feel him without the beskar creating a barrier between you. His cock is hard against your ass and you grind back onto him. “Mando. Please. Just - just fuck me.” You beg, looking into the mirror to watch his helmet.
He chuckles even as his hands start to move over your skin, wishing that he has his gloves off, but he won’t take off more than he has to. His armor is already off, otherwise he would be wearing that while he fucked you. It takes too long to remove and often he’ll lose interest in fucking if he went through the motions of removing it all. Instead of answering you, he rips your tank top in two, freeing your breasts and cupping them in his hands and squeezing harshly while he ruts against your ass.
The roughness of his touch has you ready for him to slide inside of you and you are panting when he pinches your nipples. “Oh fuck, yes baby. Please. I need - I need you inside of me Mando.” You beg, grinding back against him.
“Shameless.” He huffs, twisting your nipples again to make you gasp out before he drags his hands down your stomach to where the rest of your mechanic’s suit is bunched up. Loving the access to your skin and how soft and warm it feels under the sensory pads of his gloves. “You just want me to shove my cock inside you and fuck you?” He asks, pressing his helmet up against your ear. “Without fingering you?” 
“Depends on how impressive you are, Mando.” You tease, grinding back against him. “I’m so wet right now you could probably slide inside of me without foreplay.” You whimper when his gloved fingers dive past the waistband of your suit. “Please Mando.” You beg, needing something, anything.
He growls, yanking your pants down and kicking your feet apart. Your ass is pushed back against his crotch so that he has to lean back to unzip and pull his throbbing cock out. He would have given you his fingers, made you cum before he fucked you - but the way you beg so sweetly had him impatiently. His hand slides around your sternum and he yanks you back against his chest, making sure he can see your face in the mirror. “You asked for this.” He warns with a snarl before he lines up and drives his cock deep into your pussy.
You cry out, loud enough to wake the child in the bunker next door so Mando slaps his hand over your mouth, his cock practically in your guts as he buries himself deep inside of your cunt. There’s a sting since you haven’t had sex in a while but you love it, knowing you’ll feel him tomorrow. You whimper against his hand, reaching up to grip his forearm as you press against his chest.
“Good girl.” He practically purrs it, loving how tight you are around him. His hips flex forward and he grinds deep into you before he pulls nearly all the way out and drives forward again. Starting a punishing pace that has his hand vibrating with your moan.
You are squealing, grateful it’s muffled against his glove, and you close your eyes. “Open your fucking eyes. Want you to watch me fuck you.” He orders with a growl, making you open your eyes and you struggle when he’s hitting down deep inside of you, stretching you out.
He fucking loves it. You are taking every punishing roll of his hips and squeezing his cock like a vice when he’s balls deep. He groans in your ear, watching your eyes for any signs of discomfort because of his hand over your mouth. Your cunt is perfect, exactly what he needs right now. The arm not holding you against him slides down so he can rub your clit.
You moan loudly against his hand, hips bucking as you grind down onto his cock while he rubs your clit just right. Your eyes roll into the back of your head as you clamp down on his cock, soaking him with your cum as you fall over the edge, thighs shaking.
He groans, hips slowing down because he feels himself starting to get close and he doesn’t want to cum too soon. He needs to ride this out and work out more of his frustration on your cunt. He pushes deep and just grinds into you until your legs stop shaking and he pulls out and turns you around to hoist you up on the sink and drags a leg of your pants off you so he can step between your thighs.
You reach for him, grabbing onto his shoulders, and you moan at how bulky he feels, strong and muscular beneath the flight suit and you wrap your legs around him, pulling him closer as you look into the visor. “Come on Mando, fuck me harder.”
He chuckles at your brazenness. Shaking his head slightly as he takes himself in hand and slides back into you. “Be careful what you wish for, Mesh’la.” He warned, sliding deep and pressing his helmet against your forehead.
You pull him closer, gripping his shoulders, and you moan when he pushes into you, hitting a new angle. “Fuck Mando. Feels so good.” You pant, your forehead bumping against his and your breath fans over the beskar, fogging it as you cling to him.
“Good.” He grunts, reaching up and holding onto your shoulders. “Tight little cunt.” He praises, looking down to watch his cock work into you. “Needs to be fucked often.”
You whine your agreement. “Yes. Yes. Been too long. Fuck, you feel so good.” You let go of him to tilt backwards, changing the angle and he hits something perfect inside of you. “Oh fuck yes. Yes Mando. That’s so good. So good. Wanted - wanted you as soon as I saw you. Wondered what your cock would be like.” You admit breathlessly, chest heaving as he works you towards another orgasm.
He huffs out a goan, knowing that he had wanted you from the moment he had seen you too. “Thought about bending you over the engine panel.” He manages through puffed out breaths as he rocks into you frantically. He wants to feel you cum again. Soaking the fabric of his flight suit before he’s done with you.
You fucking love hearing this Mandalorian talk. In the half day you’ve known him, you can tell he isn’t one for talking but right now, telling you how he wanted to fuck you from the start, it has you soaking his cock with another bout of arousal. Making a slapping noise echo in the ‘fresher. “Maker. Oh Maker.” You pant and he reaches up to grip your neck, 
“Mando. My name is Mando.” He growls. 
“M-Mando.” You choke when he tightens his grip and it sends you over the edge. Knowing he could easily kill you makes you cum, thighs shaking around his cock.
Hissing, he grits his teeth under his helmet. His hand tightens on your neck slightly as your cunt flutters around him. The tight grip you have on him makes his eyes roll back. When he feels your cunt start to loosen up, he wraps his hands around your hips and hoists you up into his arms. He manhandles bounties around so you aren’t a problem. Turning around and slamming your back against the wall.
“Oh fuck!” You shriek, surprised and so turned on despite your orgasm still wrecking you. You swear you’re about to pass out from the pleasure when he starts to pound into you. “Oh fuckkkk.” You sob, head hitting the wall as he ruins you.
He doesn’t stop. Slamming you up against the wall again and again as he drills deep. Pinning you up with his body while he tries to make sure that you can’t walk by the time he’s done with you.
You can only cling to him, unable to believe how he’s making you feel. You don’t think you’ve ever felt so much pleasure in your life. The way he is pushing deep and his fabric clad thighs hit the back of yours…you would scream but nothing escapes when you open your mouth, too lost to the pleasure. It doesn’t take long for him to make you cum again. This time he hits something so tragic inside of you, it’s like a firework going off and you let out a silent scream while you gush, soaking his suit.
His head tucks against your shoulder, slamming his fist against the wall while he works you through your releases and speeds towards his own. Rolling his hips frantically. “Fuck, fuck Mesh’la.” He hisses, panting through his modulator. Gasping when he feels the tingling in his spine before he drives deep one last time, burying his cock in your walls while he lets out a growl of your name.
You sigh when you feel him painting your walls with his cum, thanking the Maker for your implant as he works himself through his high and you are almost unconscious from the pleasure you just experienced. Unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. It was intoxicating. “Fuck.” You pant, eyes closed as you relax.
“Fuck.” He agrees, panting quietly. He keeps you pinned against the wall for another moment before he lets you down. Your legs buckle and he chuckles quietly. “I did it right.”
You lean against him for support, gripping his flight suit and you just about manage to find your balance. “Maker Mando. You make all the girls collapse?” You chuckle breathlessly, shifting back to lean against the wall so you can let go of him. “I’m sorry about your flight suit.”
“Wanted you to soak it.” He hums, watching a small drip of his cum fall out of you and hit the ‘fresher flood. “You could have had another orgasm if you hadn’t been so impatient.” He muses with a grin under his helmet.
You huff, shaking your head. “Impatient? I just - I wanted you to enjoy yourself too.” You stroke his covered chest and you step back from him. You shift from one foot to the other, reaching for the paper to clean his cum from between your thighs as your jumpsuit tangles around your ankle.
He chuckles and watches as you clean up, tucking his cock away. “I was always going to enjoy myself.” He promises. “Sorry about ripping your shirt.”
"It's okay. I have more. It was...it was hot." You admit, pulling your overalls up to cover yourself. You aren't sure what to say now that the deed has been done, what has been building all afternoon between you. You want him again but you know he will be leaving once you have fixed the droid.
He hums and turns back towards you. “Go take your shower.” He urges you, knowing he will need to take another one later but for now, he will wait until you are cleaned up.
You nod, walking over to Mando and you lean up to press a kiss to the beskar helmet over where you think his cheek is. "Thank you Mando." You smile, stepping back from him to turn on the sonic shower, stripping out of the jumpsuit with no care to him still being in the 'fresher. He's seen it all anyway.
Even though he’s just fucked you, his cock twitches and he decides that he won’t wait. Instead he steps into the shower fully clothed, knowing the sonic shower will clean his flight suit as well. “You are beautiful,” he murmurs. “So much skin on display.”
“Maker!” You gasp, not expecting him to step into the shower with you. “Mando. What are you-” You moan when he pushes you against the shower wall, his fingers finding your clit and you whine, “Mando. Shit. It’s -” You can’t believe he’s still wanting you. Most men would’ve gone by now and passed out from their orgasm.
He hums, watching your eyes close at his touch. It’s been a long time since he had someone just give themselves to him like you have. He rubs your clit while he reaches over with his free hand and presses the button to start the sonic shower watching you while the dirt and sweat vibrates off of you, his fingers still between your legs. “You gonna let me crawl into your bunk tonight?” He rasps. “Fuck you through the night?”
You moan, nodding as the shower adds to your vibrations, his body crowding yours and it’s intoxicating, making you tilt your head back against the wall to look up at his helmet. “If you want. You can do whatever you want to me. Any - anyone that can make me cum like you do can fuck me whenever he wants.”
Din groans in approval, chest puffing out in pride that he’s gotten permission from  you to have you again. That you enjoyed his rougher treatment. He feels more relaxed than he has in months. HIs fingers work your clit like he was piloting a ship, steady and firm. The wetness of your cunt seeping into the leather and he will remember how wet you had gotten his flight suit. “Cum for me again and I’ll take you to your bunk.” He promises, imagining stretching out on top of you and filling you again. 
You whimper at his words, knowing you’ll ache in the morning but it will be worth it to have him inside of you again. The expert way his fingers are working your clit have you whining until you go silent, mouth falling open while you clamp down around nothing, cumming for him like he wanted.
He shuts off the shower, your clean body limp and leaning against his when he pulls you away from the shower wall. Guiding you out of the ‘fresher and leading you, naked, to the bunk he had assumed was yours. It’s not Peli’s and there are small personal items and tools scattered around. “How many times do you normally cum with a partner?” He asks as you sit down on the bed. 
“I, uh, I’m lucky if I cum once.” You admit, “most of my partners didn’t care about my pleasure. Before I arrived here, I was working in a cantina, fixing droids in my spare time just to make ends meet and Peli found me and gave me a place to live. As for my partners…they were passing through, just wanting to find their pleasure and not care about mine.”
Din scoffs under his helmet, rolling his eyes at the people you had slept with. “Pleasure is supposed to be mutual.” He hadn’t always felt that way, when he was young and brash he probably didn’t please as many partners as he thought. But because he couldn’t take off much or use his mouth, he had tried to make sure that he gave pleasure through other means. You lean back on the bed and he shuffles slightly, reaching for the zipper of his flight suit. 
You watch as the Mandalorian starts to unzip his flight suit, letting you see inch after inch of skin, some parts marred with blemishes and scars, others painted with tattoos. "Maker." You moan, unable to stop yourself from surging forward to press your lips to his skin as he continues working the zipper down.
Din moans loudly, closing his eyes as your lips touch his skin and makes him quiver at the sensation. “It- it’s been a long time since I’ve- since I’ve taken off my suit.” He confesses breathlessly. “The helmet stays on though.” He can’t break his creed again. Not for something like sex.
You hum in understanding, kissing every inch of skin he exposes to you and you want him to know how beautiful he is. “I don’t mind.” You promise, helping him take the suit off of his shoulders and you shift to straddle him once he’s naked, your lips kissing along his shoulders while your hands caress his back. When your skin touches his, he shivers beneath you.
He gasps, hands gripping your hips and he turns so that he can stretch out on your bunk. Letting you stay on top of him in a very rare move. The only people who have ridden him have been fellow Mandalorians, sure they would not try to remove his helmet. Trusting you with this intimacy.
You stretch out over him, covering as much of his body with your own, and you lean closer to kiss along his beskar helmet, down to his neck and you shift to kneel between his legs. "Fuck." You moan at the sight of his cock, reaching out to grip it and you moan when a drop of pre-cum leaks, making you lean closer to flick it with your tongue. The salty tang makes you hum in delight before you wrap your lips around the head, taking him into your mouth while your eyes meet the visor.
Making a choked noise, his hand reaches for you. “Y-you d-don’t have t-to do that.” He pants out, even while your mouth works over his cock. He can’t give you the same so he doesn’t want you to feel as if you have to suck his cock. Even if it feels amazing. 
You pull off of his cock for a moment. "One thing you should know about me Mando is I never do anything I don't want to do." You smirk and take him back into your mouth, deeper than before, and you caress his thighs, wanting to feel every inch of flesh he has gifted you the opportunity to see.
Din groans, a filthy sound that peeks out from under the edge of the helmet. Watching you eagerly suck his cock like it’s your favorite activity, he shivers when your hands brush over his skin, igniting nerves that were normally suppressed by clothing that covers him. 
You slide your tongue over the side of his cock, gripping the base and twisting your wrist while your eyes burn into the beskar helmet, wishing you could see his expression. You feel him twitch in your grip so you move quickly. Straddling him and sinking down onto his cock in one swift move, wanting him to cum inside of you. "Fuck." You moan, feeling him so much deeper in this angle.
“Dank ferrik!” Din yelps, hips bucking up and he can’t stop himself even if he wanted to. Feeling his cock harden even more and his balls pull tight against his body. Your mouth and cunt pulling his orgasm out of him before he could even realize it. His hands hold you in a bruising grip and his mind goes completely blank while hot ropes of cum fill you to the brim again. 
You smile, loving the way he easily falls apart beneath you. You rock your hips, feeling his cum push out of you and it makes you moan as you work him through his orgasm. “That’s it Mando. Just feel.” You order, caressing his arms.
“Shiiiiiiit.” His head tips back and exposes the bottom of his chin as he rides out his high. Relaxing into your bed to gasp while he tries to catch his breath. You didn’t cum. He realizes this as soon as he can think about anything else other than how much pleasure you had just given him. “Fuck.” He groans, reaching up to cup your cheek. “You didn’t cum.” 
You shrug, “it’s okay.” You promise and he shakes his head. 
“No. Come here.” He uses his strength to lift you off of his cock, moving you up his body until you are hovering above his helmet. “Ride it. Want to see your pussy while you make yourself cum on my helmet.” His words make your cunt clench and you shift to press your cum soaked folds against the beskar.
It doesn’t matter that his cum is smearing over the beskar and his visor. It’s what he filled you with and he can still see those pretty lips as they drag over his helmet. Making him groan as his softening cock lays against his pubic hair. His hands squeeze your ass and help you grind against him. “I can smell you.” He moans, “you smell so delicious.” One hand moves from your ass to swipe through your folds and he gathers some of your combined fluids to shove into his mouth under his helmet. 
You almost cum from seeing him taste your combined fluids, the fact that he does that nearly makes you cum. When you feel his wet fingers dig into your ass, you move faster. The ridges of the beskar hitting your clit just right and you moan in response. “Oh fuck Din. I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum.” You whine, hips bucking wildly.
“Do it.” He rasps out, wanting to see you fall apart, to watch your cunt spasm right in front of his face. Your head tilts back, a loud cry wrenched from your lips and he groans, soft cock twitching as it tries to get hard again, but he needs more time.
You shake above him, thighs pressed against the now warm beskar and your hands slap against the wall behind your bunk as you try to balance yourself. “Fuck Mando.” You pant, grateful you aren’t smothering his face since you aren’t sure if you can move yet.
He hums, reaching up and caressing your spine gently while you are catching your breath. “So beautiful.” He praises, loving how you had just let yourself go with him. “You look so good like this on my helmet, that cunt is so pretty. Did you enjoy that?” 
You giggle, breathless and still reeling from the orgasm. You shift to lay down beside him, resting your cheek on his shoulder. “That was - I’m lost for words.” You admit with a smile, “no one has ever made me cum like that and that much.”
He loves the feeling of your body stretched out along his. His arm curls around your shoulder and he hums. “Good.” He murmurs softly, fingers stroking your skin while he can. “You will sleep well.” He huffs happily. 
“Oh definitely.” You murmur, already sleepy and you know you should get up and help him clean up, clean yourself up. “You need to clean and polish your helmet.” You smirk against his shoulder, “I made a mess of it.”
“I will do that later.” He murmurs, feeling your body start to get heavier as you relax against him. You will be asleep soon and he doesn’t want to move away from you right now. The kid is still asleep and he wants to be selfish for another minute. “Sleep, mesh’la. You deserve it.” 
You can’t deny him or sleep even if you tried. He’s warm and just the right amount of muscle to make you feel secure as you doze off in your bunk. You feel safe for the first time in forever and you have the Mandalorian to thank for the best sleep of your life.
****
When you wake up, Din is back in his armor. He hadn’t wanted to leave your bed but he needed to. He had to clean up before the kid woke up and reality intruded. He had slept with you in his arms for a couple of hours, which was all he really slept at a time anyway. He had gently eased away from you and watched you for a moment before gathering his clothes to go back to the ‘fresher and cleaning up again. His gloves are on and cupping your cheek with a cup of broth for you in his hands when your eyes. “Hey, it’s time to wake up.” He murmurs softly. 
You blink, wincing against the light until you see the Mandalorian above you, dressed in his full glorious beskar, and you notice the cup of broth in his hand and the other caressing your cheek. You turn to kiss his covered palm, smiling up at him. “Oh. Thank you.” Your voice is croaky from sleep and you move, shifting to sit up so you can take the cup.
You look beautifully sleepy and Din steps back. “I’ll leave you to get dressed.” He offers, shuffling slightly - awkwardly - in the face of the morning after. He wants to make sure that he didn’t hurt you and that you don’t regret it. “Are you- you okay this morning?” 
You nod, “a little sore but I feel good.” You grin before you sip the broth, sighing in content at the warmth. “It was amazing. Thank you for last night.” You tell him as he hovers in the doorway. You need to shower but you are on cloud nine with the aches in your body from last night.
“Good.” His helmet dips quickly in a nod and from the other bunkroom, he hears the baby coo. Grogu is awake. “Well, I better get him before he gets into trouble.” He huffs, knowing that if he’s not careful, the kid will be into trouble in a heartbeat. 
You watch him go, smiling into the broth and you hear him greeting the kid, making your smile transition to a grin. You desperately needed last night, you are aching but in a good way. You loved how rough he was yet so gentle after, such a contrast from the strong Mandalorian. You finish the broth and stand up on aching legs, deciding to get into the sonic shower again before you continue working on the droid.
“No.” Din shakes his head as he looks at Grogu, denying the kid but he’s not giving in. The tiny little three fingered hand presses against the now cleaned cheek of the helmet. He’s not going to remove it right now. “You need to eat.” The kid coos at him, making him huff slightly. “We are leaving in the next couple of hours and we aren’t stopping for a snack.” 
You find Mando trying to feed the child and you giggle at his frustration when the child tosses the food on the food and laughs at the frustrated Mandalorian. “Maybe he wants something sweet. I got something for you, little man.” You promise, walking over to your secret sweet stash in a drawer in the parts area. You bring the cake bar back over to the kid, opening the wrapper. “Here you go.” You offer it to him and he grins at you.
“Great.” Din grunts and puts his hand on his hips. “Kid’ll be bouncing around for hours in the cockpit.” He doesn’t mind, as long as he eats something. Din himself has already eaten before he ever woke you up. He snorts when Grogu looks up and coos at him before he tears into the cake. 
You chuckle, watching the kid demolish the cake. “Sorry. He’s just so cute, it’s hard not to want to spoil him.” You reach out to caress the child’s ear. “I still need to reprogram the mech so he has a few hours to get it out of his system. You need supplies? I can watch the kid while you go out.” You offer, knowing he probably wants some space after last night.
“No.” There’s nowhere that supplies would fit on the starfighter. He didn’t even have room for a weapons locker. It upset him, but he carried the darksaber and his other weapons on his body so it didn’t affect his ability to protect himself and the kid. “Do you need a hand?” He asks, waiting to stay around you. 
“Yeah actually, you can. Thank you. Would you mind grabbing the tools on the side over there?” You ask, working on the motherboard. You want to program the droid to protect the child and Mando while also having some sass since Mando seems to like your own sass. Maybe it will remind him of you when he’s far across the galaxy. “Thank you.” Your fingers brush his gloved ones as he hands you the tools and you look into the visor before you continue working.
He grunts in acknowledgement, shifting his feet slightly in the sand and picking up a ratchet spanner so he can check a few of the seals on ship. He opens a panel on the side of the ship and tries to be casual. “So, uh, are you planning on staying on with Peli?” He asks, biting his lip under the helmet where you can’t see. 
“It depends. I’m guessing that I will outstay my welcome when she finds a droid that can work on other droids.” You chuckle, knowing Peli puts her droids above anyone else. “For now, it’s nice to have a place to call home. I’ve been jumping from place to place and I have been grateful to not need to pack up my things and move on so fast.”
Din nods, understanding that, although for him it’s a way of life. He hums and wonders where home originally was for you. “Wish I still had my Razor Crest.” He murmurs. “It was a little easier when I had a ‘fresher” He chuckles. “And a vac tube.”
“I can only imagine how hard it is to move about all the time. Especially with this one.” You point at the child who is chasing one of the smaller droids around. You chuckle and turn back to the programming, knowing the Mandalorian probably wants to make a quick exit now that he has been fed and fucked. “I like the star fighter. Makes you even more intimidating…it’s sexy.”
Din chuckles and can’t even help the slightly cocky stance as he faces you. “You think I’m sexy?” He asks. “With or without the armor?” He’s curious to know if it was just an armor kink or if you had liked it when he stripped down. Especially because he never does that.
You turn to look at him, leaning against the counter. “Both, but you without the armor? I could barely breathe. You are - you are sculpted by the Maker and you take my breath away. You are beautiful Mando. Both with and without the armor.”
“You’re the first person I’ve taken off everything with in a long time.” He confesses quietly. “It was very memorable.” He sighs and closes the panel. “Think you’ll be here when I come back?”
You smile, happy he wants you to be here when he returns. “I’m sure I’ll be here when you return…unless Peli has had enough of me.” You snort, crossing your arms. “Why? You wanna have some more dirty sex when you return.” You wink, grateful the child is occupied with a rock that the droid kicked up.
Din snorts. “If I still had the Crest, I’d be offering you a spot on my crew.” There was no crew, but he would make something work to have you there with him. Fixing the ship and sleeping in his bunk.
“Yeah? You’d want me making a mess on your ship?” You tease, knowing he’s being serious but you know if you let yourself give in to that fantasy, you’ll both get hurt. “I doubt I could squeeze in with the mech.” You chuckle, a little nervous about how intense this has become. You’d go with him, you know you would and that’s terrifying.
“You’re good with the kid.” He’s noticed that too, not just how good you fuck. Right now it’s not feasible, not with his mission. “But I doubt you would want to go to Mandalore.” Hell, he doesn’t want to go, but he needs to.
You are surprised at his mission, “you are going to Mandalore? But I thought - I thought it was destroyed?” You frown, remembering the stories you were told as a little girl.
“It was.” He walks over to the tool rack and puts the ratchet spanner back. “I have to see what is left and find the living waters.” He doesn’t know why he is telling you this, but he does.
You watch him inspect the tools and you continue working on the droid. When you are finally done reprogramming, you rebuild the mech and within moments, it beeps while it comes back to life. The child tilts his head in response, cooing in excitement and you turn to look at the Mandalorian, wishing you could see his face. You are finished with the task he assigned which means he is free to leave.
Din looks around the bay for a moment before he walks over to you. He takes credits out of his belt and hands them to you. “For the repairs.” He murmurs. When you take them, he steps closer. “Close your eyes.” He orders, deciding that he’s going to give into his desires.
You are anxious but obey, closing your eyes and you are surprised when you feel his lips press against yours. His gloved hands cup your cheeks and the kiss is a little clumsy but your heart pounds in your chest. You squeeze your eyes together when he pulls back, a soft smile on your lips and you reach up to touch them, unable to believe he just kissed you.
“Tell Peli that she should keep you around.” Din walks over to Grogu and picks the baby up while the hoist puts the mech droid back in the Star fighter. He turns back towards you and wishes that there was something else wrong with the ship so he could stay longer. “I’ll be back.” It’s almost a promise but he knows you might not be here when he does come back. 
You open your eyes, knowing he can promise but he can’t guarantee. You already accepted that this would be a one time thing but it doesn’t stop your heart from aching. “I’ll be seeing you Mando.” You declare, hoping that you can say it and it will come true. Once Grogu is in his seat, you walk over to the Mandalorian. “Be safe.” You request, caressing his chest plate. 
He nods, “I’ll try.” 
You step back, biting your lip as he gets into the star fighter. This is likely the last time you’ll see him, certain Peli will kick you out before he returns. You wave when he lifts up, watching until the ship is but a spec in the sky.
****
It’s been six long months since he’s seen the dry, dusty planet but Din shifts slightly in his seat as he makes his way to Peli’s hanger. He wants to see if you are still there. The kid coos in his lap and Din hums. “Yeah, we’ll get you some food.” He promises, concentrating on the landing and trying not to look for you in the shade of the hanger. Once the engines are shut down, he opens the canopy and sets Grogu on the transparisteel before he climbs out.
Peli comes out, followed by her hoard of droids and she grins when she sees the ship. “Mando!” She greets him when the hood is opened and immediately takes the child, cooing at him and telling him she is going to get him something to eat. Mando can’t help but look around the hangar, looking for you, and he hears a clanging and you stumble through the doorway. 
“That stupid droid just squirted me with oil.” You curse as you wipe your face until you pause, seeing the Mandalorian standing there. “You’re back.” You gasp softly.
“I said I would be.” He walks towards you, the feeling in his chest telling him that what he had decided on the way here was right. He hadn’t made a bad choice. He reaches out when he’s close. Swiping away a spot you had missed before he drops his arm again. “Mesh’la.” He murmurs before he takes a deep breath and reaches up to remove his helmet.
Peli’s eyes widen and you inhale sharply, almost reaching out to stop him, but when his face is revealed, your heart pounds. “Mando-” You choke and he shakes his head. 
“Din. Call me Din.” He orders and you grin, reaching up to cup his cheeks. 
“Din.” You whisper, in awe of how handsome he is. His beautiful brown eyes staring at you like you’re the only thing in the galaxy.
“Well I missed something.” Peli huffs, but Din ignores her, leaning into your touch. 
“I have a lot to tell you, Mesh’la.” He hums. “But I need to make sure that what happened, what I thought you felt for me, wasn’t a fluke.” He bites his lip and turns to kiss your palm. “Would you leave with me?”
You glance over at Peli, feeling guilty for leaving her in the lurch. "Don't look at me, sweetheart. You got a handsome man asking you to leave with him? I know my answer." She grins and you bite your lip, turning back to Din. "Yes!" You squeal, surging forward to wrap your arms around his neck. "Yes, I would."
He chuckles. “There are some things you should know.” He warns you, pulling you close but looking into your eyes. They look so different without his helmet. “We- I am the leader of Mandalore.” He admits quietly. “I need- children. I need to lead my people from the shadows.”
You raise your eyebrows as you lean back to look at him, "you need - wow. That is - are you - do you-?" You stammer, unsure of how to ask the question. Does he want you to be the mother of his children or does he want a Mandalorian. "Do you - do you have someone in mind?" You ask quietly and Peli rolls her eyes.
“Mesh’la, I want you to come back with me.” He explains, reaching up to cup your cheek. “To marry and have children with me while I rebuild Mandalore.”
You are surprised but your heart pounds in your chest and you surge forward to press your lips to his. "Yes. Yes. I, Maker, this is crazy but I want that. I want to be yours, to have your children." You murmur against his lips.
“Well it’s about time you settled down. Mando!” Peli crows. “But hey, uh, would you consider leaving the kid with me?” She asks as she looks down at Grogu.
Din shakes his head. “The kid comes with me.” He tells the older woman as he smirks and leans in to kiss you again. “I’m also stealing your mechanic. She’s going to the the Manda’lor’s riddur.”
You grin, shocked but so happy to be his. You are excited for the future and you will be by the Mandalorian's side. His riddur. You look down to see the child who waddled over, offering you a goofy grin and you bend down to pick him up, holding him between you and Din. Your new family. "The Manda'lor's riddur. I like that." You smile up at Din. 
"Just remember to name one of your kids Peli." Your boss claps, a wide smile on her face. 
"Middle name." Din compromises and Peli pouts, making you giggle. Din never imagined a droid would help him find his riddur but now he finds he loves the mech that rides in his ship who beeps happily at the new couple.
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misspearly1 · 2 years
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Ner Cyar'ika Baar'ur
Secret Santa Event by @pedrostories
My giftee: @taro-666
Pairing: Din D'jarin x F!Medic!Reader (use of Y/N).
Summary: Working for the Mandalorian as his personal medic, it has become apart of the daily routine to battle against people who threaten his safety, or yours. You're apart of the chaos that comes with the bounty hunting life, but how does one particular quarry change everything between you and Din D'jarin?
WC: 8k
Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Fic is set in season one, between episode one to three. Slight changes in the storyline from the TV show. Cursing. Use of Mando'a (with translations). Friends to Lovers. Mutual Pining. Violence and Injury. Angst with a happy ending. Smut. Mentions of wet dreams. Unprotected PIV. Praise kink. Fluff.
AN: Taro! Omg, I've been so excited to share this story with you and to finally come off anon. Hey friend! 👋 I hope you enjoy the read, my love ❤️.
@supernaturalgirl20 Thank you so much for the beta, beautiful! You're a star 🥰.
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There aren’t a lot of things that surprise you these days as a trained medic; you’ve been through a lot and have seen nearly twice as much. Having said that, it’s almost as if you’ve grown used to the mayhem that comes with treating the sick and the wounded because of your line of work.
For instance, it doesn’t surprise you anymore when your boss requires your medical assistance considering he is actually in need of your assistance quite often, and it’s the very reason he hired you in the first place. 
The Mandalorian is your boss, or Mando as he is known to some, and his involvement in the bounty hunting business was never in your interest at first - your a healer, not a fighter - but where there is a fight, there is almost always a need for someone to be patched up afterwards. 
There’s never a dull moment working with the Mandalorian, his daily life is mayhem, more so in the last several weeks since his workload has been busier than usual and seeing that you’ve already adapted to the chaos around treating the sick and wounded, especially on war-torn planets, you quickly adopted his chaotic lifestyle as well.
There wasn’t much difference truthfully, only that you were treating one patient instead of several a day, and rather than coming to you for medical treatment, Mando offered you to move into his ship as an alternative. You didn’t oppose the idea and accepted his offer, not only because the pay is better, but the company is welcome too.
As well as this, you didn’t mind moving into Mando’s ship because he used to visit you regularly for medical attention back on Nevarro. That's where The Bounty Hunter’s Guild is situated, it’s their home base, and although you only stayed in the city for seven months, you didn’t particularly enjoy your time on the volcanic planet. It’s a world of black sand, rocky terrain, and rivers flowing with lava instead of water.  
While it was beautiful to gaze upon at night, it was also deadly as the Reptavion's used the darkness to their advantage, hunting anything it could carry before taking flight. Nevarro provided work opportunities and credits, but it wasn’t a place to call home.
However, the volcanic planet is where you met Mando for the very first time. During the months you were staying in the city, you were working in a small medical clinic, and there were plenty more suitable facilities for the man to visit, but he chose your place of work instead.
At first, you assumed it was for discretion as the clinic's unspoken rule was ‘ask no question, hear no lies’, but sometimes he would come to see you with minor injuries that could be treated by his own hands, thus leading you to believe that he was interested in more than just your help. Besides, you enjoyed the man's company when he would come to visit you. He wasn’t much of a talker back then, but as time passed, he gradually opened up.
Moving into the man's ship brought you closer to each other. You became his partner more than his employee, and you love your job because it simply doesn’t feel like a job. It feels like you're working with a trusted friend, sharing the riches and helping each other out.
Whether or not he was actually in need of your service back on Nevarro doesn’t matter. What matters is that he saw an opportunity with your skills and presented a deal to make your working life better - which it has.
Ever since you moved in with him, your life has become better in so many ways; you now have a place to call home, and you have a friend you can rely on without the niggling doubt of betrayal in the back of your mind. 
Since you were always on the move before, you adopted a cautious nature with everyone regarding every little detail in your life. You never did fully trust people, but you do with Mando. Things are different with him, and one of the many reasons why it's different with him is because you know the man underneath the beskar. 
Many people have heard of Mando. They’ve heard the stories about his reputation in the Bounty Hunters Guild, about how he is the best in the parsec, but his past and identity remain a mystery. Even to you, to some extent, but you’ve heard the stories too, heard ‘warrior’ in the whispers and it’s true. He is a fine warrior, one that fights with grace and loyalty to the cause. His cause; his culture and his religion - the way of Mandalore. 
While many call him Mando, or the Mandalorian in the Guild, you know him as Din D’jarin. You have not yet had the pleasure to see his identity, but hopefully one day you will have that pleasure and the honour. These are just some of the many reasons why you love your job, but to put it simply; it’s because of Din. 
Since there aren’t a lot of things that surprise you anymore in your line of work and partnership with the man, that doesn’t mean there’s nothing that surprises you. Take these last few days for example, it started off with the same regular chaos, but eventually became something you’re not familiar with. 
The loading bay of the Razor Crest is almost packed full of quarries, frozen solid in the carbonite blocks with one more space remaining for the Mythrol. You helped Din as far as your abilities could, and since the tracking fob for the Mythrol led him to a public house on the icy planet, Pagadon, you stayed back on the ship and waited for his return. 
And of course, it came as no shock when Din returned with the Mythrol, thankfully without any injuries, but the blue-skinned man tried to pull a fast one. However, it wasn’t fast enough as the Mandalorian was two steps ahead of the trickery. He always is.
Still, just like the normalities in the bounty hunting life, you made your way back to Nevarro and met with Greef Karga in the cantina to offload the carbonite blocks, receive your payments and gather more tracking fobs leading to more quarries.
The surprise began when the words ‘off the books’ were uttered by Greef himself and from the moment Din took his next job, you had mixed feelings. There was no chain code on the quarry, all you had was their age. Then, Din wouldn’t allow you to accompany him when meeting the client and the very fact he was protective of you in that sense, made you worry about their business. 
In the Guild, it’s common knowledge that you don’t ask questions about the criminals you hunt. You just get the job done and let the proper authorities serve justice, but something was gnawing at your gut. As the day went on and the chaos continued, the doubts slowly began to fade as you settled back into normality. 
The tracking fob led you to a desert planet, Arvala-7, where you met with a kind man named Kuiil working on a moisture farm. It was especially fun watching Din trying to mount the Blurrg and learn to ride them, but you, too, had to learn in order to join his travels to the Nikto Hideout - where the quarry was. 
By the afternoon, you and Din had mastered the art of riding the creatures and you set off to capture the quarry. Just like any other day in the bounty hunting life, there was nothing surprising or out of the ordinary. You worked together like you always do and after leaving you at a safe distance away from the hideout, Din moved forward on his own. 
As battle ensued, you watched from afar and used comms to help the man out. He fought magnificently. More often than not, his skills leave you awestruck. Mesmerized. You prepared yourself and stocked up on the medical supplies before leaving the moisture farm earlier, but remained hopeful that there wasn’t a need for them. 
When the fight was over, the enemy threats were eliminated and Din was unharmed, you made your way to him and entered the hideout together to find the quarry, but when you first laid your eyes on the target, that unsettled feeling returned to your gut. It was an infant baby, a little green baby with big ears and the cutest eyes you’ve ever seen. 
Although you remembered that you don’t ask questions in the Guild about the quarries, you couldn’t help wondering, and worrying, about what the client wants with the child. It couldn’t be anything good if Din didn’t want you present in the meeting with them on Nevarro.
You had many doubts and suspicions, so many that you couldn’t find a single rational explanation as to why a baby had a bounty on its head. Naturally, you asked Din all of the questions you had, but he didn’t have any answers.
Now, as you both make your way back to the Razor Crest with the baby through the mountainous canyons of Arvala-7, you still can’t shake off the nerves around this whole ordeal. Din is many things; a fine warrior in battle, a man of few words, emotionally shielded and well guarded, cold and merciless to those who threaten his safety, or yours, but careless? No, never.
The man isn’t careless. He cares greatly, and deeply, and he, too, knows that something is off about this job. You’ve known Din D’jarin for the last two years and you can sense when the man is nervous. He’s quiet, too quiet, and you don’t like when his mind is on overdrive because if he is worried about this job, then you should be fearful. 
“Alright. What is it?” You finally break the silence to ask, eager to make sense of his sudden edgy state of mind. Halting your walk and turning to face him, you perch both hands to your hips and tilt your head to the side in question, adding emphasis to your desire for answers. 
The baby situated in his floating pod remains close by, right between you and Din as a matter of fact, and he looks up at you both with curiosity. You fight the urge to look at him, to avoid his influence on you as a woman with maternal instincts. The little guy's presence has undoubtedly caused a heavy bout of uncertainty over your heads, a little rift between you and Mando. Not something of the bad kind, but something unfamiliar and foreign. He’s a child, just an innocent baby, so it’s a confusing and an extremely foreign feeling for you both to be transporting him like he’s just another quarry when he isn’t like any other quarry you’ve ever transported before. 
“Din, talk to me,” You shake your head now, frustration evident in your tone, “What is it? What’s got you nervous?” You ask again, although the answer is obvious. It’s because of the baby and all the questions he has for the client, but you want to hear him say it. 
To hear Din himself say that something isn’t right will validate your reasons to be worried, but you were met with silence yet again. The man wasn’t even paying attention to you, he was too focused on the little lizards scurrying across the sand. “Mando.” Stepping forward and calling him the name that everyone else uses, that usually gets his attention, you open your mouth to speak but the words didn’t even make it past your lips as he shoved you back. 
You fell down and watched as he turned swiftly, gun in hand at the ready to shoot, but a blade whacked it out of his grasp, a blade wielded by a Trandoshan. You and Din both lock onto the tracking fob on his hip, the flashing red dot and audible beep familiar, before he then shoves the floating pod away, keeping the baby out of harm's reach. There’s more than one tracking fob, therefore there’s more bounty hunters looking for the child. Bounty Hunters who are careless and don’t ask questions. 
Neither one of you can allow the baby to leave your sight or allow him to fall into the wrong hands, thus causing your legs to act before your mind can think. You quickly rise from the floor and move in to help Din wherever you can. He smites the Trandoshan and they tumble to the floor. Then, he takes the blade from him, before turning around to throw it toward you.
“Stay with the baby.” He orders firmly, and you listen to his instructions. Trusting his fighting skills better than your own, you take a few steps back and give him the space he needs to wield his weapons without hurting you. 
However, another Trandoshan jumps out of cover. “Behind you!” You yell, giving Din a heads up just in time to evade the direction of a blade coming down in his path. The fight continues, and you take a few more steps back to look up, checking the surroundings to ensure there aren’t any more hunters hiding in the shadows. But there was. “Another one, on your left.” You call out. Again just in time as another Trandoshan jumps down from a ledge. 
With one enemy on the floor, but recovering quickly, the odds weren’t in Din’s favour. It wasn’t a fair fight, even though you’re pretty sure he can handle himself, you worry for his safety nonetheless. And although you're not a fighter, you’ll be damned if you don’t try to help even out the odds against him. 
After checking that the baby was safe in his pod, you move toward the closest Trandoshan and raise your weapon. His back was turned, giving you the upper hand to land a blow without deadly consequence. Using the blunt side of the blade, you struck the back of his legs, causing him to stumble forward just at the right time for Din to throw his arms out and punch him in the face, knocking him unconscious as he fell to the floor. 
Now that the odds were evened out, you watched Din’s movements with laser-like focus and only intervened when you saw the right moment. You were sure he could handle himself, and you were right, but the element of surprise was the only advantage the Trandoshans had over him in the beginning. He fought the remaining two easily, eventually leaving all three unconscious and regretful for ever trying to take on a skilled Mandalorian. 
He turns to you, nodding appreciatively. “Good moves there, mesh’la - thank you.” 
“Don’t mention it,” You shake your head, “You did all the heavy lifting. I was just lending a hand.” You mumble with a sheepish grin on your lips. 
“But I know how you don’t like to fight,” He argues gently with a slight chuckle in his modulated voice. “You fought with me. Accept my gratitude, sweet girl.” 
“Ok, ok - you’re welcome, Din.” Your smile deepens with flattery as he stands before you with what you can only describe as pride. It was the way he looked at you; his helmet slightly tilted to the side, displaying the reflection of your own face, and his hands resting on his hips with a puffed out chest. 
Since you can’t see the man's facial expression, all you’re left with his body language and tone of voice to understand how he feels. And right now, you not only feel a sense of pride from him, but a flicker of attraction too. It’s in the air. The chemistry, the spark, it’s surrounding you both, and it’s something you feel quite often, but never have the courage to act on. 
You’re almost certain that the friendship between you and Din means something more, or at least, it’s heading towards something more. But the intimate moments you share with each other, brief moments like this, make you wonder why he doesn’t make a move.
You don’t even have to see the man's face to know that he’s eyeing you up and down. Upon feeling him lean in, something you’ve felt him do many times before, you muster up the courage to lean in as well.
However, the confidence escapes him at the last second and he pulls back, clearing his throat awkwardly. “We should leave now, mesh’la,” He says, breaking the silence and just like that, the moment is over. “ We need to get back on track and complete the job.”
What? You ask yourself as your mouth falls open and your eyes widen, exhibiting your shock and disbelief. After everything that has happened today, especially after a brawl against three Trandoshans, you're shocked that he is still going to hand the baby over to the client. Din picked up on your reaction instantly and straightened his back, as if preparing himself for a dispute. 
“Excuse me?” You scoff, your cheeks burning up again for an entirely different reason now. It wasn’t flattery, or attraction, it was anger. “Din, you can’t be serious. We can’t hand the baby over to the client. Especially now that we know other hunters are after him too-” You walk over to one of the Trandoshans laying on the ground and retrieve their tracking fob before presenting it to him, “-The client gave you the job, but handed out more fobs? It doesn't feel right and you know it.” 
“Cyar’ika, please don’t do this.” He sighs while running his gloved hand over the scruff of his neck, the pleadings in his voice for you to not argue about this falling on deaf ears. You are most certainly going to argue about this with him. You cross your arms and shake your head, like you had already settled the argument without even uttering another word. But, the dispute was nowhere near settled. “Need I remind you of the code in the Guild?” He asks with a bite to his tone of voice, “If you don’t like this job, I’ll finish this one on my own.” 
“On your own?” You laugh humourlessly while waving the tracking fob. “Good luck with that when the whole Guild could have these! What happens if you get hurt? What then?” Biting back with your own set of questions, you watch as the man huffs a short breath and turns away from you, evidently maddened with your bickering.  “Don’t turn away. Answer me -” You give him a second to answer, but grow impatient as you're met with a lengthy silence once again. “- What happens if you get hurt, Mando? You can’t do this alone.” 
Din turns to you now and stands close, his voice raised to a level that hurts. “I was doing just fine on my own two years ago, Y/N.” Turning away again, as if he couldn’t stand another second looking at you or spend any more time arguing, it didn’t matter anyways as you had ultimately lost the dispute. You give him another second, another chance to make things right and take back what he said, but he doesn’t turn around or mutter a single word. 
“Okay then,” You mumble, lowering your head, “Am I just the medic? Is that all I am to you?” You ask, and still, the man doesn’t turn to face you or answer your question. The silence spoke for him and that was all you needed to know before turning around to walk away. You gave him plenty of chances to fix his mistake, but only until your back was turned did he try. 
“Cyar'ika.” He calls out for you, finally coming to his senses, but it wasn’t quick enough as you didn’t respond to him. You made your way towards the baby and the sound of your muffled cries made his head hang low with shame. No matter how quiet you tried to be, your cries were audible to his ears, enhanced by the mechanics in his helmet. 
Although you were quite visibly sad, he watched you put on a fake smile and talk to the baby like nothing was wrong. The warmness of your soul shone through the misery, causing the little guy to beam and babble baby nonsense. It was a sight so beautiful to witness, so beautiful that it was distracting. 
Din can’t allow himself to get too wrapped up in the emotions that the child brings. It’s conflicting, confusing and…  foreign. He’s never felt this way before. Never felt this way before with any woman around a child, but it’s different with you and it clouds his mind, throws him off balance and disrupts his focus so much that he doesn’t pay attention to what’s most important right now. Like the danger lingering in the immediate surroundings. 
“Y/N!” The man calls to you again, his voice was laden with urgency. “Behind you! Y/N - behind you.” Sprinting toward your position while swinging the strap of his amban rifle around his chest, Din takes aim at another Trandoshan and fires, obliterating the reptilian humanoid to a thousand dust particles. 
You fall down, your knees hitting the sandy terrain below as your pained cries penetrate the sound of his beating heart deafening his ears. You took a hit from the Trandoshan, his blade had cut through your clothes and marked your skin before he was blasted into organic matter. 
“Mesh’la.” He choked. Rushing over and kneeling on the ground behind you, he reaches out to hold your arms. The injury you sustained was across your back, diagonally, at least three inches long and almost half an inch deep. A clean cut, but angry red and weeping with blood. “Easy now, sweet girl. You’re bleeding, just take it easy.” He reassures you with a slight tremble in his tone, his worry for your well-being perceivable. 
“The disinfectant,” You hissed in reply whilst shaking your head, “Get the disinfectant. It’s in my satchel, Mando.” Gently removing your satchel over your shoulder, he places the bag onto the floor and opens it up to search through your medical supplies. Supplies that are normally used for him. There’s irony in the fact you became a medic to treat others, not yourself, and the man despises that his involvement in the bounty hunting business has caused you harm. 
And although he is helping to the best of his knowledge, you’re directing him on what to do. “Open the cap and pour a generous amount over the wound.” You explain, then grab his hand on your hip to hold onto for comfort. He begins to ask if you’re sure, but couldn’t even finish his sentence as your sobbing plea cut him off. “Yes-yes! Just get it over with. Please, Din.” 
Listening to your instructions, he held his breath and prepared himself as he began dousing your back with disinfectant. You bawled with agony, your back arching away from him naturally with the instinct to stop the pain, but to his regret, he pulled you towards him and continued to pour. He clenches his jaw as you cry, his fingers almost turning blue from the force of your grip on his hand. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes, to which you don’t accept and stutter in reply. “This isn’t y-your fault.” 
Releasing your hand to place his thumb and forefinger on your chin, he tilts your head to look at him before leaning in. “I’m sorry, Y/N - for this, for yelling at you, for saying that I was doing just fine two years ago and… and you’re not just a medic.”  He rests his helmet against your head and whispers, though his voice breaks with remorse. “You’re so much more than that, mesh’la. You mean so much to me.” 
“Din, I-” You open your mouth to object, but he cuts you off by holding his thumb over your lips while shushing you. “Don’t speak and conserve your energy, we’ll talk about it later. Just let me take care of you first.” He says. 
“No, Din…” You sigh, eyes blinking slowly while slurring your words. “I was going… going to say that I… I can’t keep my eyes… I don't feel good…”  Your body becomes limp as you fall into his arms. Your vision darkens quickly, and the last thing you saw before everything went black was the baby's eyes looking at you as he peaks over the pod.
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The next time you awoke, it was a brief moment of consciousness. The familiar sound of Din’s amban rifle could be heard as he fired off multiple rounds and your eyes glimmered open to see his legs, the bandolier of cartridges wrapped around his calf. You saw his gloved hand reaching for ammunition to load into his weapon and worried as to why he needed them. 
“It’s ok. Everything is ok,” he says upon noticing you were awake and were fighting to keep your eyes open. “We’re safe here. Go back to sleep, cyar’ika.” 
Eyes closing once again, you couldn’t keep them open no matter how hard you tried to, and his voice soon faded as you slipped into a deep slumber. The silence took over and, oddly, it felt comforting. Although it only felt like minutes had passed, you knew it must have been longer as your surroundings were different. 
There was no longer a warm breeze, but the cold presence of steel pressing into your side, and beneath you, it felt spongy and soft, thus indicating you were laying on a bed. The unmistakable sound of Kuiil’s voice could be heard in the distance as he makes the baby laugh and you open your eyes to confirm your assumptions on your whereabouts, but are met with locks of brown hair instead. 
It’s Din. He’s the cold presence of steel pressing into your side as he sat on the edge of the bed and it’s his hair that you were currently staring at with wide eyes. His back was turned, but you could still see the back of his head and instantly shut your eyes, fearing that if you spent one more second looking, you wouldn’t be able to turn away. 
“Mando,” You whisper immediately, panicking, then feel him moving around. “Mando, why don’t you have your helmet on? Stars! I could have seen your face.”
You begin to shift your position to turn away from him, but are reminded of the wound on your back. The pain struck you suddenly and harshly, causing Din’s hands to dart out to cover your eyes just in time as you opened them with instinct. He was gentle but quick. “It’s ok, mesh’la. You can’t see, it’s ok.” He reassures you through the strained whimpers slipping past your lips. 
“Where is your helmet?” You ask, getting your teeth. You close your eyes again once the surge of pain passes over and the soothing properties of bacta gel takes over. You can feel the substance on your back, feel the stuff working to heal your injury. “My eyes are closed now. It’s safe but… Shit, Din. I saw your hair.” You say apologetically. 
“It’s fine, sweet girl.” He chuckles softly, the sound making your mouth fall open with shock as you retort. “It’s not funny. I’m not allowed to see you - or your hair! What… W-what happens now?” You ask, to which he laughs again and startles you unintentionally when reaching out to cup your cheek. You weren’t expecting to feel his gloved fingers on your skin, but you quickly leaned into his touch as his gesture brought consolation. 
“Look at me,” He requests, “It's safe to look, I promise.” 
Rolling your eyes behind closed lids, you make a surprised sound when he caresses your cheek with his thumb. Again, you weren’t expecting the comforting gesture, but deeply appreciated it. And whether or not it was the bacta gel or Din easing the discomfort in your back, you chose to believe it was the latter.
A short moment passes before you finally open your eyes and find relief in the T shape of his helmet. Although you would love nothing more than to see his identity, the face of his helmet is what you know, it’s home. Your face softens as you relax into the palm of his hand, but the importance and worry around your question still lingers, thus causing you to ask again. “What happens now? I thought I wasn’t allowed to see you without the helmet, doesn’t that also mean I can’t see your hair?” 
“You didn’t see my face, nor did you remove my helmet, mesh’la,” He shakes his head, his voice soft like honey, “It’s okay and besides-” He turns his head, displaying the brown locks of his hair at the base of his neck, “-You can see my hair with the helmet on.” 
“Oh,” You whisper with intrigue, “Surprised I didn’t notice sooner, but your hair is…” Lifting your hand with a desire to touch his hair, you back out at the last second and retract your arm, but Din felt your movements and quickly assured. “Go ahead. I trust you.” 
You reach out again and caress the base of his neck, your fingertips massaging his scalp which draws out the heaviest sounding exhale you’ve ever heard from him; a sigh of relief, filled with endearment and relaxation. It was a gratifying feeling, seeing and hearing the man lean into your touch without fear of betrayal in this moment of vulnerability. Din is vulnerable at this moment, his guard is down and just the mere thought of removing his helmet sickens you. It never crosses your mind. 
“Your hair is beautiful, Din.” You murmur sweetly, a smile on your lips displaying your satisfaction and joy from something so simple. The action of touching his hair which you’d love to do again, to feel him melt in your arms like soft putty and feel a sense of home from your touch, like you feel a sense of home when looking into the T-shape of his visor. 
You gently squeeze the base of his neck, a way of reassuring him, before pulling your hand back, however, it was apparent that he wanted more as he sharply held your wrist and directed your hand back to his hair. “Please?” He asks in a whispered breath, hopeful and optimistic, desperate. “Keep playing with my hair, ner cyar’ika.” 
You laugh, a mixture of surprise and confusion obvious in your tone. The difference in his pet name for you was confusing, and his request for you to continue playing with his hair was surprising. Though, you granted his request gladly and began playing with his hair. “What does cyar’ika mean anyway?” You ask, tilting your head with interest while wondering what faces he was making under the helmet from your massaging movements. “Is there a difference when you say ner cyar’ika?”
“Yes.” He groans in reply, the sound drawing out another laugh from your lips as your smile deepens. You open your mouth to ask another question, until he turns his head to face you and leans across your body. The pause in his manoeuvre speaks of hesitancy, unsure on whether or not you were comfortable with what was about to do. 
The question you had vanishes from your mind as you nod to the man, nodding with confirmation for him to lay down and rest his head in your arms. The bed in which you lay on didn’t feel small until Mando lay on it with you. Not that you minded anyway, but it really detailed the size and stature of the man, especially the broad expanse of his chest and back. 
He raised both hands to his helmet, and before he could even ask, you closed your eyes with baited breath as he removed it to optimize the comfiest position. The position he chose however, was burying his face between your neck and shoulder. You didn't release the breath you were holding, it was snatched from your lungs.
Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought this day would come, but doubt is what kept it at the back of your mind. You never entertained the idea of laying in bed with Mando too much as it felt like a pipe dream to have the man in your arms like this, and now that you do, it feels better than you ever could have imagined.
The pain in your back is practically non-existent now, almost as if you never even sustained an injury, and that’s because of his presence, his proximity and his comfort. It wasn’t a struggle to keep your eyes closed as you basked in the sensation of him carefully laying his weight over you like this.
Something else you’ve also thought about in the past, but tried not to think about too much, is Din laying over you for an entirely different reason. And perhaps it’s because of the level of intimacy in this position that brings those thoughts back to the surface, or maybe it was the electrifying feeling of his lips pressed against your skin. 
The man wasn’t exactly kissing you per se, but the bare contact of his lips placed against your neck like this felt like a kiss. Besides, the vest shirt that you wore left a lot of skin on your chest on display, thus providing Din, and yourself, to relish in skin-to-skin contact.
You could feel his beard, it was a light amount of hair, grazing against you with every little movement of his head. Soon, though, all of those little movements from Din became obvious that he was uncomfortable, as if he kept moving slightly to adjust his comfort.
“Want me to stop?” You ask, wondering if he has had enough of you playing with his hair, but to your delight, he shook his head as he inhaled deeply. He smiles against your skin, thus piquing your interest. “What? What is it?” You laugh bashfully. 
“You smell good, ner cyar’ika.” He replies, nestling his nose into your neck to inhale the natural scent of you. The smile on your face is yet to fade, his actions are what keeps your lips turned upwards, that was until you felt something wet dart onto your skin. It was brief, too brief, but you felt it nonetheless.
It was Din’s tongue, and your smile disappears as you bite your lip, leaving a hankering desire to feel it again. Your skin heats up beneath him as you entertain those thoughts about him lying over you like this for a different reason. You think about how you’ve yearned for his gloved fingers to touch other areas of your body, and as well as wondering about his identity, you’ve also wondered what he looks like nude. A mind is an imaginative place, and you’ve imagined him naked more than once. You sigh softly with the ache between your legs, wishing Din to be the one who eases it. 
“Mesh’la,” He mumbles, grabbing your attention, and when you hum in reply to him, he asks: “Is everything ok? Your heart is racing -” Your eyes spring open with worry, feeling like he could see your dirty thoughts, thus causing your heart to pound harder,  “- Hey, hey, relax. I can move, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asks, blaming himself for your panic. Although he is to blame, it’s not for the reason he thinks. 
“No, it’s just…” You falter with finding the right words, but the patience to wait for him any longer escapes you. “It’s just that I felt your tongue on my neck and if… Stars, this is going to be embarrassing if I’m wrong… and if you did it purposely, then I want to feel it again, but…” You gulp, gathering your courage to admit your feelings, “...But if it was just a mistake, then I think that we should maybe stop what we’re doing because I’m attracted to you Din.” 
“You are?” He asks, to which you reply firmly. “Yes. Yes, I am.” 
“So…” He smiles, “You like this?” He asks before placing an open mouthed kiss to your neck, his tongue darting out onto your skin again, thus eliciting you to sigh breathily. “Y-yes. Yes, I like that.” Your eyes close naturally as he plants another kiss on your skin, still with a smile on his lips, as he begins to pant. “I’m attracted to you too. Have been for a long time, ner cyar’ika.” 
“Oh, Din.” You moan. With arousal and relief, his admission makes you moan, the sound acting as a catalyst as he moves down your body, his head disappearing under the covers eagerly to hear you moan again. “Are you able to lay on your back?” You hear him ask, though his voice was muffled, you heard him clearly and nod frantically with excitement.
Shifting your position to accommodate him, you couldn’t feel the pain in your back anymore and slipped your hands beneath the covers, your fingers finding his hair with ease. “It’s ok, I’m comfortable lying like this.” You say while focusing on his every move with anticipation. You could feel his breath fanning across your lower stomach, his fingers hooked inside the waistband of your pants as he leans in to place another kiss on your skin. 
You lift your hips up with a silent request, one that he understood without a need for words, and begins pulling your pants down, along with your underwear. He leans in and presses his lips to your inner thigh, nipping a path toward your sex. You unintentionally begin gripping his hair by the handfuls, evidently desperate to feel his tongue delve into your slick folds. The man doesn’t waste time and gives in to his own desperation. 
“Din!” You whine upon feeling the tip of his tongue meet your clit. He teases you at first, moving his tongue in a circular motion with a feather-light touch, the action making your hips lift off the bed to search for more. You feel him smiling against your inner thigh, clearly satisfied with your reactions, before he closes his lips around your sensitive bud and sucks gently.
You let go of his hair to hold the back of your palm over your mouth, quieting your mewls of pleasure to a respectable level. Considering all the noises Din himself is making was driving you feral, it was a struggle to try and keep quiet. He sounded hungry, like a man starved for a taste of your sweetness right from the source, as if he had dreamed of this moment and was making the most of it now that it’s a reality.
Your hands abandoned his hair to grip handfuls of the bed sheets instead, your back arching as you tilt your head to the side and bury your face into the pillow. Your orgasm crept up on you, started off with a happy cramp in your stomach but quickly became bliss as he eased a finger inside your entrance, soothing the ache in your velvety walls. Din grunted heavily, needily, as he drank your desire.
He continued to flick his tongue against your clit while angling his finger into a come hither motion, caressing that sweet spot deep inside. The stars behind your eyes and the goosebumps rippling across your body never felt so good before, especially from the simple act of receiving oral. It’s been a while, a long while, since you’ve last felt the pleasurable touch of your own hands, let alone a man's pair of hands.
You needed this, needed to release all your pent up sexual energy, though it only made you insatiable for more. “Din,” You call to him, calling on his help to your frustrations, “Din, I need you.” 
Suddenly, his hand emerges from the quilt, “Here,” he says, handing you a blindfold. “Put this on for me, sweet girl.” He asks, to which you oblige and pull the item over your eyes hastily. “Ready - now get up here, I need to feel you.” 
Moving up your body without having to tell him twice, he travels slowly and plants kisses on your skin along the way, his smile never fading as he takes in the sight of you beneath him. “Gar’re bid mesh’la… (you’re so beautiful).” He growls wantonly, “...Bid, bid mesh’la (so, so beautiful).”
“I’m not sure what that means,” You giggle, the smile on your lips as wide as ever, “But I like the way you say it.” You reach out carefully in search of his face, to which he helps by directing your hands, and once you feel him, you gasp. “Stars! You’re so beautiful,” you whisper in awe as you trace the outline of his facial features, “Your lips… your cheekbones… nose… jawline… everything about you is beautiful, Din.” 
“Thank you, sweet girl.” He breathes, eyes closing to relish in the soft touch of your palms cupping his cheeks. “I’ll teach you Mando’a and soon you will understand everything I say, but I said you were beautiful too. So beautiful.” He explains, causing your cheeks to burn once again with flattery as you pull him closer. His lips press against yours with a bruising kiss, and you couldn’t help but moan because of the raw passion and loving desire to finally feel what you’ve yearned for. 
Although there was a hint of desperation in his bid to remove your clothes, Din was gentle with his movements, gentle and respectful. You helped remove his clothes too, and with each inch of skin revealed, you marvelled at the bare touch of him pressing against you. You’ve seen areas of the man's skin before when taking care of his injuries, but never fully seen him naked. 
Using your sense of touch to see, you feel his body and drag your fingers along his chest, feeling the brute strength that he holds. The strength of a warrior. Between your legs, you feel his member pressing against your cunt and it was an impressive size. Aching to be buried in your warm. His breath bellowing across your face, hot and heavy, laden with the same sound of relief from earlier when you played with his hair as you admire his body now. 
“Cyar’ika.” He groans. Placing his hands beside your head, you feel his body shudder with need, his hips rolling forward ever so slightly to ease the throb that burdens his cock. You slip your hands around the base of his neck, pulling him in to close the gap and kissing his lips whilst parting your legs. As he lines himself up at your entrance, your hands fall to his biceps, holding him tightly as you prepare from the breach. 
“Nngh,” you break off to moan, deeply and satisfyingly, “Fuck, Din! Keep going.” You lift your head off the pillow to kiss him again, letting him swallow all the little pretty noises you were making as he carefully buried himself to the hilt. Your walls opened up with ease, stretching to accommodate his size. “It’s ok,” You say, pleading for him to move. “I’m ok.” 
“Are you sure, mesh’la?” He asks, to which you nod in reply. “Waited so long for this,” pulling his hips back slowly, he grabs onto your thigh for leverage before burying himself into your cunt again. “Dank Farrik!” He grunts across your face, “So warm and tight. Better than I imagined, sweet girl.” 
The sound of his filthy words made you mewl, having never heard the man speak this way before, you were surprised, yet growing more aroused and confident to be honest with him. “I used to think… Shit!” You stutter as he grinds into you, drawing out a moan from your lips, “...I used to think about this. In the night, while you were sleeping in your bunk, I’d think about you making love to me.” You admit. 
“Oh fuck.” Din gasps. Picking up his pace while resting his forehead against yours, his moans broken and breathless, his cock reaches a new depth inside your cunt, hitting that sweet spot inside over and over again. “I’m so relieved to hear you say that,” he says, “I took myself in hand many nights thinking about you."  
“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You quickly warn upon feeling the peak of your climax racing toward you. “I’m close. Stars! I’m so close. Keep talking to me.” You cry, feeling yourself on the verge of tearing up from the intensity of your pleasure, but the sound of his voice keeps you tethered to the moment, preventing you from floating up to cloud nine. 
“I would dream about you often,” He groans while holding the base of your neck, his thumbs dragging across your skin reassuringly, “Wet dreams, mesh’la. I felt so ashamed, but… Fuck, they felt so good. Dreaming about you in my sleep felt so good.” 
“More… Tell me more.” You hiss. Wrapping your legs around his back and locking your ankles together, you feel his hips falter as he moans through gritted teeth. “Your pussy, nngh! I’d dream about your pussy wrapped around me, taking my load, mesh’la. Again and again until you couldn’t hold any more and it dripped out of you. Fuck! I’m gonna… Shit, Y/N, I’m coming-” He cuts himself off with a needy whine, throwing his head back with bliss as he feels you clenching around him. 
“I-Inside,” You begged him, “Please, Din. Come inside of me.” The man couldn’t stop himself even if he tried to. You felt him reach climax, the warmth of his release spreading inside of you, coating your velvety walls as they pulsed around him, as if milking him of everything he could give. “Mando. Fuuck, Mando!” You mewled directly into his ear, your eyes screwed shut behind the blindfold as his orgasm pushed you over the edge. 
White static casted over your eyes as your ears ring loudly, your heart thrums in your chest as nothing but pleasure courses through your veins. You unintentionally dig your nails into his back, clawing at his skin as he reverts to a slow grind into your cunt, the movements pleasuring your clit and prolonging the ecstasy of your high. “That’s it, sweet girl. There you go.” He praises you through it as he comes down from his orgasm, the sound of his voice overstimulating. 
Resting your head back against the pillow as you come down, breathing heavily, he plants loving kisses along your jawline and neck. “So pretty like this.” He whispers sweetly, his voice heavy with satisfaction as your hands find his face again. “Are you okay?” He asks. 
“How…” Your voice croaks, “How do you say happy in Mando’a?” 
“Briikase,” He chuckles, to which you reply with a smile. “Well, I’m briikase right now. Really briikase.” 
“Me too, cyar’ika-” He pauses to brush the hair away from your face, correcting himself. “Ner cyar’ika baar’ur.” You open your mouth to ask another question, to ask what difference in his pet names mean, but he leans in to catch your lips in a fervent kiss instead. 
Din pulls back, looking to where your eyes would be behind the blindfold while caressing your cheek. “Ner cyar’ika baar’ur... my darling medic. Ni’m ori briikase as pirusti bal ni kar'taylir darasuum gar, mesh’la... I’m very happy as well and I love you, beautiful.” 
You make a surprised sound when hearing some familiar words in his language and learning what they mean, that he has said them before in the past. “I love you too, Din.” You say earnestly, the tears staining the fabric of his blindfold, which you now just realized that he’s kept in his pocket in hopes to use with you one day, like today. You not only became Din D’jarin’s medic, but you became his - his darling medic. 
There aren’t a lot of things that surprise you these days as a trained medic, but that doesn’t mean nothing surprises you anymore. These last few days have been adventurous and emotional, foreign and unfamiliar, life-threatening and dangerous. It’s been life-changing for you and the Mandalorian, and it’s all because of a baby. The little guys presence not only sparked your maternal instincts, but the protective fatherly instincts within Din too. 
And, although neither of you know it now, the baby is only just the beginning of your treacherous journey across the stars in search of reuniting him with his people.
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Tagging:
Perma Taglist (Everything): @marydjarin @kirsteng42 @supernaturalgirl @supernaturalgirl20 @harriedandharassed @joelmillerscoffee @joelsrifle @swtaura @alexxavicry @boliv-jenta @dragonsondragons @practicalghost @janebby @faceache111 @sleepylunarwolf @tusk89 @anismaria-blog @graciexmarvel @munsonownsmyass
All Mandalorian Content: @pale-gingerale @mandalorian-dindjarin @michele131 @chxpsi @burninggracesandbridges @wordsfromshona @lavenderbxnny @margofiore  
All Pedro Pascal Character Content: @joelsflannel @mswarriorbabe80 @readsalot73 @allthe-ships @avengersftspn @hb8301 @scorpio-marionette @squidwell @sunnshineeexoxo @trickstersp8 @graciexmarvel @tanzthompson @bbyanarchist @oogaboogasphincter @emiemiemiii 
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gatorbites-imagines · 9 months
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Hai there, i was wondering if you could do a mandalorian x male child reader?
Can the male reader be a foundling and Mando finds us or something like that?
Like Mando is becomeing some sort of father figure?
If not, that's totally fine too!
I love your storys!!!
Din Djarin with a foundling pantoran reader
Headcanons
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I can’t remember any of the Mandalorian language *scrunches up in pain*. Reader is Pantoran, cuz hehe blue and yellow tattoos.
Din would find you when he’s out on a bounty, sometime after he’s given Grogu to Luke. This means Din is still feeling extra raw and empty, lacking some purpose with his life other than just Bounty hunting, since he’s realized there’s more to life.
Imagine his surprise, when his latest bounty, some slave trader, is already down for the count when he arrives. Din quickly finds you, in all your blue skinned, yellow facial tattooed glory, glaring and barring your teeth like a wild Tooka.
In the beginning he doesn’t know what to do with you, since you end up telling him you have no one to go back too, since your parents sold you for being an affair baby. It aches in his heart to see someone so young, already so jaded by the world.
He might have already grown attached the moment he saw you, but he’s not gonna force any adoption or anything. But before either of you know it, you’ve wormed your way into his life and are living with him on his ship.
Boba and Fennec are in no way surprised when Din arrives on Tatooine with you following him like a baby duckling. They both have a good laugh when you launch yourself feet first towards an assassin though, both deciding if Din won’t take you, they will.
Because of your time as a slave, you have a hard time trusting, and Din doesn’t wanna force it. So, he gives you all the time you need to get comfortable. He definitely doesn’t start silently crying under his helmet when you fall asleep against his side for the first time.
He ends up changing up the interior of his ship so you can fit, giving you your own seat and bunk area, and making sure things you might need are in reach.
Din doesn’t realize he’s pretty much already adopted you in everything but adoption vow, until Boba points it out to him one day. Boba points out how Din has already given you a few armor pieces in durasteel and has been training you in the Mandalorian fighting styles.
Din becomes flustered and embarrassed, and mumbles something about not wanting to force it. Turns out, you don’t want to force it either because you still fear he will get rid of you like your first parents.
After some fighting, you sneaking along for bounty hunting, you almost dying because of this, and Din having to save you, you guys finally accept how much you have come to care.
Din ends up asking if you would be okay with being adopted by him, to join his small clan with Grogu, and to be his child. You tear up, and at first Din thinks it because you are so against the idea. But then you sob out a yes and cling to him, mumbling how you wanted nothing more than to have a family.
Din speaks the Mandalorian adoption vows, and he can now finally take his helmet off around you, as you are his child and that is the way.
You end up looking into the meanings of Pantoran tattoos with Boba and Fennecs help, and add to your already existing ones to show your clan and Mandalorian ways, as you are now Mandalorian.
Din takes you to meet Grogu, if you haven’t already met him, even if its just over a call or video chat. Grogu is extremely excited to have an older sibling, but also pouty that he cant go with you guys on adventures or get his own armor until he’s of age for his species.
You start getting your own armor as you get older. Its up to you if you follow the way, of never removing your helmet or not, Din just wants you to be happy and healthy and will support you either way.
If you meet Dins former clan, you always make sure to kick Paz in the ankles or the back of the knees (he’s still alive to me, idc idc), because he wronged your father in your eyes. You always end up roughhousing with Paz’s kid, the two of you beating on each other like Mandalorian kids do.
Because of your age Din slows down with his bounty hunting, and does smaller and less dangerous contracts, because he doesn’t wanna leave you without a parent. He’s definitely set up something with Boba and Fennec, that they’ll take care of you if he were to pass, just in case.
When you get older he takes you along with him, helping you become the kinda person you wanna be. If you end up wanting to be a bounty hunter, he’s the best trainer there is, and if you wanna be something completely different, he will find someone who can teach you.
Din is a tad bit overprotective, even as you grow older, its in his blood and he can’t help it. He just wants his kid to be safe and happy, and can’t bear the thought of you being hurt even though Din knows that’s just the way of the galaxy.
But no matter what, Din is a very loving father, even though he is a little awkward and tense in the beginning. He would do anything for his kid, and if you were ever in danger or kidnapped, he’s ready to destroy the entire galaxy to get you back.
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thefrogdalorian · 8 months
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The Best of Both Worlds
Din Djarin x Female Reader Modern!AU
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Summary: When a new Star Wars TV show called The Mandalorian premiered, you found yourself completely enamoured with the titular character. Enjoyment of watching the lone bounty hunter travel through the galaxy quickly turned to obsession. There was just something about the show that captured your imagination. Now, you spend much of your free time — when you're not working a fast-paced, minimum wage and incredibly stressful job at a prestigious London Museum— speaking to your online friends about your love for the show. There's just one thing... Despite how much you love The Mandalorian, no one knows the identity of the man behind the helmet... either in the show, or in real life. You only know him as Mando. No one has ever seen his face, no one knows his name.  Even after the countless hours of speculation from fans online, which even you have occasionally participated in, no one is any the wiser to the identity of the mysterious man who wears the shiny armour.  Surely, given the depth of your love for the show, you'd recognise if the man who you spend so much time obsessing over online was to ever cross paths with you. Right?
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Content Warnings: Reader is AFAB, uses she/her pronouns and in her mid 20s. Age gap between her and Din is noted but not really central to the story. Grogu is human, hints of past trauma/child abuse before Din adopted him are mentioned but not described in detail. Some mature scenes later on in the fic but not explicit smut... because I just cannot write x reader smut! Author's Note: SO very excited to finally share this fic! Thank you to the lovely @suresnips for being my beta. I really appreciate you ♡ This baby was originally my NaNoWriMo 2023 project and was inspired by this post from @toxic-seduction that I saw one evening and couldn't stop thinking about! POVs will alternate chapter to chapter from Din to reader. It was fun to write that way! Set in London for a few reasons: partly because I love the movie Notting Hill and it has some of those vibes (if you squint), also, the village where Din lives is based on Elstree Studios just outside London, where the OT was filmed and ultimately because NO WAY was I writing a modern!AU set in the states, it would've been painfully obvious a Brit wrote it. While there are lots of references to places in London, I don't live there so it might not be truly accurate (Londoners don't come for me). Also, to be political for a sec, reader works at the British Museum and I hate that institution. This was actually the line of work I was interested in when I was at Uni but for many different reasons I did not pursue it. However, it works for the plot of this story and as you'll see, she doesn't exactly love it either and goes on a few rants. Just wanted to make that clear that her job there is not an endorsement of it or anything. I can't stand them or their historical apologist bs and I wish we would give back all the things we stole (including the Parthenon Marbles)! Finally, it was incredibly important to me that the actor behind Mando in this fic clearly be the fictional character of Din Djarin rather than the real person Pedro Pascal, because rpf is not my jam! I hope I did that pretty well but just wanted to warn that if you're expecting me to use Din as some kind of way to write a Pedro fic, this won't be for you! Okay, I'll shut up now! This fic is fully written, just needs editing so hopefully I'll get a couple of chapters up each week, but life happens. I'm very proud of this one and I really hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Also if you would like to be added to my taglist for this fic, please let me know! Happy reading ♡
❁ My Masterlist ❁ Read on AO3 ❁
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Why Does It Always Rain On Me? [Reader POV]: After a dreadful day which saw you drenched by a rainstorm after leaving a hectic day at work, you reflect on your love for Mando and upcoming excitement for the sci-fi convention you will soon be attending with your internet best friend.
He Is My Only Priority [Din's Pov]: The character of The Mandalorian is known and loved by millions. But there is another, much softer side to the man who portrays him that Din Djarin is determined to keep hidden from the world, despite the challenges that presents for him and his beloved son, Grogu.
This Is Why (I Don't Leave The House) [Reader's POV]: Your internet bestie arrives in preparation for the Star Wars convention you will attend together. Everything is set for the greatest weekend of your life! Until you arrive at the con and find yourself overwhelmed by all the crowds and noise. At least you have numerous incredibly realistic Mando cosplays to distract you from how stressed you feel, and there's one in particular which is uncannily accurate...
Curiosity Killed The Cat [Din's POV]: Despite his reservations and against his better instincts, Din heads to a Star Wars convention that he was invited to. Although he fears that his cover will be blown, curiosity gets the best of Din and he can't resist attending a panel. But Din doesn't exactly find the answers he was looking for. Instead, he finds something far more precious. Something that he would never have expected...
He's So Tall (And Handsome As Hell) [Reader's POV]: Being back in the real world and returning to work after an incredible weekend at the convention where you had so many fun experiences is taking its toll on you. The thought of collapsing on your couch in front of The Mandalorian is the only thing keeping you going. However, the universe has other plans for you. News of an out-of-hours tour for a private client that you are asked to lead almost sends you over the edge, but when you finally meet the man, he is the opposite of what you were expecting. Weirdly, he seems familiar...
With A Little Help From My Friends [Din's POV]: Din returns to the set of The Mandalorian to begin filming a new season. Despite his experience and capability, he finds that he struggles to focus as his thoughts remain firmly fixed on a certain someone...
You're The Sunflower [Reader's POV]: Despite feeling certain that you'll never see the ridiculously handsome man you gave a tour of the museum to, a special delivery is about to change everything...
Your Face Hung Up High In The Gallery [Din's POV]: After a difficult few days of filming The Mandalorian, Din is excited to spend time with you as he finally takes you on your first proper date...
Have I Known You Twenty Seconds or Twenty Years? - (Reader's POV):  Despite a messy evening which led to you waking up in an opulent hotel which you have no memory of falling asleep in, memories of kind brown eyes and breathless kisses soon come flooding back to soothe your soul. Your relationship deepens as the two of you spending time together whenever your busy schedules allow. But one night, a turn of events causes you - despite Din's reassurances - to wonder if everything you have been working so hard to build together has just come crashing down around you...
There's A War Inside Of Me - [Din's POV]: The realities of the secret he is keeping from you begin to weigh heavily on Din's mind and he seeks advice from a certain curly haired co-star on what his next move should be. Things don't go exactly according to plan, not least because of the typically awful English weather...
It Could Be Love, We Could Be The Way Forward - [Reader's POV]: With your respective busy jobs keeping you and Din apart, a mystery date after a hectic day at work is exactly what you needed.
The Calm - [Din's POV]: When filming overruns and conspires to keep Din from the fun weekend he planned for you, he agonises over his decision. Fortunately, he manages to salvage the weekend, even after a calamity involving a rowboat...
The Storm - [Reader's POV]: The happiness you feel in response to a question Din posed to you is somewhat clouded by lingering doubts. Yet your affection for each other helps you to push those emotions down, until a weekend spent at his cottage changes everything...
P.S. - I tried to be inclusive for all body types and skin tones in this fic, but if I missed something, I do apologise. If you do spot something that takes you out of the fic, I am more than happy for constructive criticism as I wouldn't want anyone to be excluded on those grounds. I am always trying to do better and would love to know where I went wrong so I can improve and be more aware of these things going forward, so I would appreciate it if you could let me know if you do spot anything. Thank you so much! ♡
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pedro pascal fic recs
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you are responsible for the content you consume‼️
✧*:·˚ hi everyone!! here is a list of all the fics that are my favs with tagged writers/authors ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ remember to like and reblog the works you enjoy in order to support each writer!! ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ however, make sure you read the information on each story themselves such as triggers & warnings ✧*:·˚
✧*:·˚ also, if you'd like me to remove your fic from this list, message me! ✧*:·˚
°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。°。
˗ˏˋ☆ˎˊ˗ nervous by @amazonabxtch pedro pascal x actress!wife!reader | reader as an adult (around her 40’s) and I wrote her as a latinamerican, mentions of pregnancy, mentions of unprotected sex, mentions of covid pandemic, a bunch of cuteness and fluff
-what was supposed to be a normal q&a, it turned into pedro teasing and making you blush
˗ˏˋ☆ˎˊ˗ the happiest place on earth by @pascallllllll1 pedro pascal x reader | pregnancy, suggests smut but no actual smut, 2k
-reader and pedro pascal have a daughter named Esmeralda and they go to disney for the first time. they dress her up in a Grogu costume and go visit the mando and everybody go crazy to see pedro and his daughter.
˗ˏˋ☆ˎˊ˗ flashing lights by @bbygirlpascal pedro pascal x fem!reader | 18+ nsfw (smut, unprotected, public sex, oral (m receiving), dirty talk, daddy kink)
-you and pedro are at a red carpet event and he just cannot take his eyes off of you the whole night so he's gotta do something about it.
˗ˏˋ☆ˎˊ˗ dizzy spells by @pascallllllll1 pedro pascal x reader | mentions use of IV’s/needles and unplanned pregnancy. age gap relationship (very legal), 1K+
-pedro being the caring and loving boyfriend he is forces reader to get looked at after experiencing dizziness and fainting.
˗ˏˋ☆ˎˊ˗ crimson tide by @pascallllllll1 pedro pascal x reader | blood, period talk, swearing, mentions over the counter pain medication, brief daddy kink(common this is about Mr “I’m your daddy” what do you expect?), unprotected sex
-reader gets her period and pedro helps;)
˗ˏˋ☆ˎˊ˗ the best kisser by @fooled-around-and-fell pedro pascal x fem!reader | romance, fluff, flirting, sex jokes
-you were interviewed by vanity fair for their lie detector episode which went viral.. and pedro happened to watch it as well.
˗ˏˋ☆ˎˊ˗ high by @writersblog20 pedro pascal x reader | smoking weed, drinking alcohol, age-gap, sexual tension, reader gets picked up, smut, p in v, no condom (please do use a condom), mention of panic and anxiety (just one sentence or so) oral female receiving, squirting, daddy kink, dirty talk, pet names, pedro being called: papi, creampie, blowjob, soft sex, soft pedro, overstimulation, aftercare and fluff, 4k
-after a very shitty day, your neighbor, pedro helps you to relax in every way possible
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pagesfromthevoid · 2 years
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Cowboy Like Me | d.d.
Din Djarin x princess!reader
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: none
Author’s Note: Ahahahah fuck here we go again. Here’s to @bookxish and @ablondieproduction for helping me get this started and consequently probably ruining my life in the process :^)
Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!
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The Princess
Karga slid a single puck across the table before he leaned back in the booth. “Client wants the quarry back alive.”
The Mandalorian didn’t reach for the puck. “Unless you have more, I’m not interested.”
“You will be when you hear how much they’re willing to pay,” Karga countered, a sly grin on his face. “Thirty thousand, with an extra five if you bring the quarry back before the end of the month.”
It was moments like this that the helmet was an excellent asset. The hunter’s brows had shot up in surprise, disbelief surely written in his features as he considered just how much that was —more than enough for fuel, for food and supplies. He couldn’t believe that one quarry was worth that much.
But the helmet hid the surprise just fine.
He took the puck, about to switch the hologram up but Karga stopped him.
“I’m gonna recommend you keep the details to yourself, Mando,” he warned, and for once, Mando considered listening. “She’s not missing because she’s a helpless damsel who got taken by an enemy. She’s missing because she wants to be missing. She’s been gone several days already. No one seems to be able to find her.”
Mando turned the hologram on, leaning back as the image of a young woman in Senate regalia faltered before him. The maroon color of her gown was accented by the gold chains that hung from her hands and ears —but what caught his attention were her eyes. He couldn’t tell the color; it didn’t matter. Her eyes were wide, cast to the side as if she was looking at something that surprised her. The rest of her face showed her emotions well, even if her body language was stiff. She was beautiful, in a frustrating way. A way that suggested she knew but didn’t want others to notice.
Another reason to appreciate the helmet —he noticed things that people didn’t want noticed. But they never knew.
He recognized the man behind her as the senator of Senex. Last Mando had heard, the senator had died. They had yet to find a replacement.
“Any idea why she doesn’t want to be found?” He asked, switching off the hologram and pocketing the puck. The whole thing felt ridiculous; searching for a missing princess like in a children’s story. But money was money.
Karga shook his head. “Rumors; whispers. But nothing I can confirm.”
“Helpful.”
“You want it or not?”
“I took the puck, didn’t I?”
Karga hummed, leaning back. “Good luck, Mando. I hear she’s a fighter.”
Behind his visor, Mando rolled his eyes.
Everyone was a fighter until they met the Mandalorian.
*****
She left him at the altar.
Oh, Maker. She left her fiancé at the altar.
No, no. She didn’t even make it to the altar. She didn’t even make it to the wedding.
What was she thinking? Was she thinking? Of course she was; she had to have been thinking because why else would she have left? Anyone in their right mind would have left too —no one truly wanted to marry someone old enough to be their grandfather. Not without a valid reason.
And her reason was far from valid.
Her reason wasn’t even hers. It was her mother’s.
But Maker —she left —what? Two? Three days ago? — without anything but the dress she wore, an empty backpack, and the credits she had been putting aside for years. No food, or water. No resources. Surely not a change of clothes, which she had to buy immediately. She had stuck out like a Wookiee among Ewoks. After several days of dancing around going home or staying missing, she finally decided she couldn’t go back. Not any time soon.
So, there she sat in a cantina, backpack tucked close to her side. The clothes she wore were far from royal. Instead of the decadent colors of gems, she wore a muted sort of brown tunic, with a scarf that covered her head and shoulders like a hood. She blended in well with the civilians around her, which was what she wanted.
Until she caught a glimpse of a Mandalorian across the room.
Looking at a hologram of her.
She nearly choked on her drink.
Maker help her —they’d put a bounty on her. And a Mandalorian was clearly in the middle of picking it up. If she left now, it would draw his attention. So she waited him out; kept her eyes down, breathing steady. If he left first, she would be fine.
*****
Back on the ship, Din sets the puck on the control panel and turns it back on. The kid sits in his crib, playing with the knob to shifter, but Din can’t bring himself to take it from him. It’s the only thing keeping the kid from crying, and he needs to focus on getting the coordinates for her last location.
The kid looks up at the hologram though, cooing at the image as he makes grabby hands for it.
“No,” Din commands, his voice soft but stern behind the modulator. Then he sighs with exasperation: her last known location was there, on Nevarro. He should have known better.
Sometimes he wondered if Karga liked omitting details. Just to be inconvenient.
The kid babbles but goes back to his ball as Din eyes the image of the young woman in the hologram. He catches every detail —the curve of her cheekbones, the angle of her nose, the fullness of her lips. Back to the length of her hair, where it’s pulled back to be out of her face but stray curls seem to escape.
But he can’t pinpoint her eyes. The color doesn’t capture in the hologram —not well at least. He’s good with details, but he can’t make this one out and it bothers him.
The kid reaches out again, babbling happily as he does so. Din gently pushes his hands away before standing up.
“Let’s go find a princess, kid.”
———
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tintinwrites · 2 years
Text
minor feelings | Din Djarin x Reader
A/N: I missed Din! I hope you guys enjoy!
Rating: 18+ for sexual themes
Warning: This is Fem!reader so she/her pronouns are used in the fic. This story deals with graphic sexual discussions as well as sexual harassment. Quite a few naughty words. Some light violence, but nothing really atypical for Star Wars.
Word Count: 2,017, apparently!!
Summary: You and Mando are hunting down a quarry, who you painfully discover is someone from your past.
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You looked around the dimly lit cantina in search of Mando’s newest quarry, listening to the sounds of cups hitting tables and a dozen conversations. You’d hear bits and pieces of some of them; two men were talking about a project at their work, a couple in the corner wasn’t being subtle about exactly what they were going to do to each other once they were home alone.
You’d been traveling with Mando for a few months now, hopping between a glorified babysitter and a bounty hunting assistant. You found the baby a little easier to deal with at first, but the more you helped him with quarries and the more he trusted you with more responsibilities, the more you started to like that too.
And you were getting pretty damn good at it if you did say so yourself.
There was just one slight problem.
“You know, this might be easier if I knew who I was looking for.” You smiled over the alcoholic drink you were sipping, trying not to laugh at his forgetfulness and your stupidity.
There was a drink in front of Mando too, obviously untouched given his rules regarding his helmet. The waitress had been so pushy, he’d given in and grunted out an obviously very enthusiastic ‘fine’ to get her to leave him alone. “Oh. Right.”
He slid the puck over to you and you grabbed it before it could fall off the table, pressing the button to pull up the hologram that would show you the face and details of the quarry it was tracking. When you saw the familiar face spinning around, showing you every unforgettable angle, the puck slipped from your hand and clattered to the table.
“What’s wrong?” Mando asked, helmet tilting up to follow your movements as you quickly moved out of the booth and backed away.
“I…I just remembered something. Be right back.” You bolted out of the cantina before he could say anything, pausing when you saw all the people that were loitering outside of the entrance.
You could feel your chest constricting and tears were blurring your vision, so you ducked into the alleyway between the cantina and another building to gather yourself privately. You pressed your back against the wall and closed your eyes, willing yourself to calm down.
You knew this quarry. Years ago, years before Mando, when you were just some nobody on a nowhere planet, just going about your daily life like anybody else.
He was handsome and charming, he made you laugh, he knew just where to touch you, and it was all so perfect. All his promises to get you off that planet, to take you to see the worlds and the stars you’d never seen before, made your fantasies of being more seem like they were within your reach.
But those promises were made while his hands were wandering over your body. Love was only whispered in your ear when he was inside you. And when you found him using those same words on another dreamy-eyed woman, you realized everything was a lie.
He wasn’t going to take you to see other planets or to have these grand adventures; no, he just wanted to soften you up, to make you pliable under his touch so he could take what he desired.
He was angry when you told him you didn’t want to see him again. Angry. As if he hadn’t lied to you and betrayed you, as if you were the one who was going around lying to people until they fucked you. You should have been angry, but instead you were calm in your hurt and busied yourself with anything that didn’t let you think of him.
He left your planet anyway. Whether to go on those promised adventures or because all the other people he fucked finally figured him out, you didn’t know.
“Well, I picked a good time to take a leak, huh?” That voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you now and you tensed against the wall, refusing to open your eyes.
But you heard footsteps approaching and stopping in front of you, and you would much rather watch his every move and pretend he didn’t affect you. You slowly opened your eyes to confirm it was him, standing with his usual cocky flair, an arrogant smirk on his lips.
His eyes trailed over your form, not even trying to be subtle. “You’ve held up.”
You weren’t going to let him get to you, damn it. You set your shoulders and stood up a little straighter, leveling your gaze. “People don’t tend to fall apart after three years, Zandraul.”
“Ooh, you’ve built a little fire. I remember when you were that doe-eyed little girl, desperate to keep people happy with you.”
It occurred to you that you didn’t need to stand there and listen to him act like a dick, but he grabbed your arm the moment you turned to leave. “Get your hand off me or you’re gonna fucking lose it.”
He released you and raised his hands in a false show of surrender, laughing softly. “Oh, come on, didn’t you miss me? What do you say I fuck you again for old time’s sake? You might be acting all tough, but I bet there’s a part of you that still likes to please people.”
The call of your name at the end of the alleyway stopped your response, and you were embarrassed at the relief that flooded you when you saw Mando. He seemed to survey the situation before he decided to approach, his hand near his blaster. You wanted to stand your ground and hold your own, but Zandraul’s presence brought up too many mind-clouding feelings for you to be especially brave.
“Oh, so that’s how you got away from that skughole. A tin can.”
“You know him?” There was a lilt to Mando’s tone that told him he’d figured out your reaction to the hologram now.
You opened your mouth to tell him yes, but could only squeak as Zandraul wrapped an arm around you and yanked you into his side. “We were good friends back home, weren’t we, sweetheart? Good friends.”
Fresh tears swam in your eyes and you tried to meet Mando’s through his visor, hoping he could understand by just a look that you didn’t want to be near this man. He moved closer and reached out a hand to try and guide you away.
“We were just leaving.” His gloved fingers nearly touched your arm before Zandraul yanked you out of his reach, stepping back. His hand hovered in the air for a moment before it lowered, fingers curling near his blaster again.
“I didn’t even know Mandalorians could fuck, but I guess anyone would give up celibacy for a night with you.” Zandraul squeezed you meaningfully. “No wonder he’s gotten you this far. You showed a virgin the time of his life.”
You didn’t know whether or not Mandalorians did take a vow of celibacy, but somehow you highly doubted it. Regardless, your body did heat up at his degrading words and at the thought of being with Mando in that way. Of course you’d think of it from time to time. But that was just it because you were almost certain he didn’t view you that way.
“Let me go, Zandraul, we don’t need to do this.” You shoved at his side, letting out a sigh of relief when he actually let you break away.
“Sure, sure, leave me again. But I just wanna give your new guy a few pointers.” He approached Mando with a saunter; they were the same height, eyes level.
“I’m not interested in any pointers.” Mando gestured for you to come to him, but Zandraul quickly blocked his view of you to grab his attention again.
“She has this spot on her neck that drives her crazy, if you ever take off your helmet.” He glanced back at you for a moment, basking in your humiliation as he told your companion who you admired such intimate details about you. “And if you tell her you’ll take her to see the entire galaxy? You don’t even have to follow through for her to suck your cock.”
In a flash, Mando’s hands were fisted in the front of Zandraul’s shirt and he was slamming the other man against the cantina wall, letting his head bounce off of it. It dazed the other man enough for Mando to throw him to the ground, before he glanced at you. “Go back to the ship and check on Grogu.”
There was no concern for Grogu, you knew he was safe, but Mando’s tone told you that he was about to do something you didn’t want to witness. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, shock coursing through you as he loomed over Zandraul.
“Go now.”
You finally got your legs to move and you walked back to the ship in almost a daze, finding that the baby was safely asleep. You sank down onto the cot just to breathe for a moment, shuddering as you thought of Zandraul’s hands on you and the way he spoke about you.
You supposed Mando had taken the opportunity to secure the quarry while he was busy talking about you. You struggled to be proud of your involvement this time.
After a few moments, boots could be heard against the metal floor of the ship and you anxiously stood, ready to defend yourself.
Then came Mando with an unconscious Zandraul over his shoulder, briefly disappearing so he could stick him in a slab of carbonite. When he reappeared, he simply walked past you and headed into the cockpit. You didn’t know what to say or if you should stop him.
So you just sat there for a little while until you had calmed down enough to fully think straight, wondering if you should thank Mando even if what he did was just a means to an end. You warred with yourself and ultimately decided that you should thank him anyway.
Zandraul was right. You did still like to please people.
You climbed the ladder to the cockpit and stood there in silence for a few moments as you thought of what to say, staring at the back of his helmet. “—Mando?”
He turned his head just enough to let you know he was listening.
“I know you just needed to bag him because he was a quarry, but thank you. I don’t need to tell you the details for you to know that we have a…history.” There was no response and you waited for one, but turned to go when a couple moments of silence passed.
“If I was worried about him being the quarry, I would’ve just cuffed him.”
Your head lifted and you felt new tears in your eyes as his words sank in. Different tears. Almost happy. The kind that made something inside your chest bloom. He attacked Zandraul for you, not for the credits he’d receive in return for his delivery.
You turned and rushed to his side, but realized you didn’t know what your plan was. What were you going to do? Part of you wanted to kiss him, but his helmet was in the way and you didn’t know how he would even feel about a kiss. Another part of you wanted to hug him, but it would be awkward with him seated.
Your hand fell to his arm and, as his helmet tilted to look at it, you placed a kiss where you thought his cheek might be. The metal was cool against your lips, nothing like kissing someone’s face, but the gesture remained the same.
He just gazed at you with eyes you couldn’t see, silently, not showing any signs that he appreciated it but not berating you either.
You smiled softly. “Thank you, Mando.”
As you walked back to the ladder to leave him be and not bother him anymore, you missed his hand raising to delicately touch where your lips had been.
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lamemaster · 6 months
Text
The Curse of Bloodlines (Epilogue 😔)
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Request: For the annon who sends me this request every day. You know who you are and you have my respect fellow gremlin.
Pairing: Thranduil x Reader
AN: I never wanted to write this. But alas for those who cannot live without a happy ending go thrive. Please no more requests for this AU after this.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Epilogue |
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"Atyo!" You peel Celegorm's hands off Thranduil's throat. At once your uncles are at the task of taking him to another room as you follow them. Not daring to look back at him. Too scared that you might not be able to leave if you do.
Perhaps it was the fear of finding the same disdained look you had witnessed in Arda. The fear of being subjected to it had left your eyes anywhere but, Thranduil.
So you focus all your attention on your father, who almost escapes the grasp of 4 of his brothers, including Uncle Maedhros, who towered over the majority in Valinor.
"Ata, not now," your voice cuts through the din, surprisingly firm despite the tremor in your heart. Your father's face contorted in a snarl, but something in your voice, perhaps the raw emotion, caused him to pause.
"Let me go!" he roared, his voice thick with fury. "I won't be mocked by that… that…" he trailed off, his tongue failing him to find an insult that wouldn't ignite another confrontation.
You shake your head and lead him out. "Let's leave. Grandfather is waiting."
You clenched your jaw, the weight of the situation pressing down on you. This meeting, the one you'd dreaded since your days in the Halls of Mandos, had been a disaster. And the worst part? It was just the beginning.
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Meeting your father was something you had wished for forever. An unfulfilled yearning you grew up with. The same yearning Legolas grew up with. Absence of a bond that made the entirety of an existence.
Settling in his arms was a comfort unknown to you in life. Death had been kinder in many ways.
The agony of right and wrong seared on both you and your father. Ignorance of the bond that is most priced above any other. Blood that had cost you the love of your husband and the chance to watch your son grow.
But things that once shredded your heart into pieces now were distant worries. The sting of betrayal and the ache of lost years paled in comparison to the warmth of your father's embrace. His tearful apologies, whispered promises of redemption, were a balm to your wounded soul.
You met then, your uncles, your grandfather, your great-grandfather, An entire clan doomed in the halls of death. And so the task of stitching back together the House of Finwe began.
From uncountable days spent sharing stories by the pillar of your Grandfather, Feanor's firey pillar, to bringing along the souls of your troubled cousins Aegnor and Maeglin. Finweans started healing.
And you became the princess of Noldor. A title that came with a hefty price.
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Legolas' friendship with Finrod wasn't a surprise. Both, you realized, carried the weight of a love lost to time – a grief you could never fully understand or soothe.
Legolas, however, found solace elsewhere. Celebrimbor, with his gentle spirit, became his closest confidante. He regaled Amrod and Amras with tales of Middle-earth, earning their playful grumbles about being called "grandfathers." Feanor, a name whispered in legends, became a complex figure he learned about through stories and perhaps, even fleeting glimpses of him to and from the forge.
Your interactions with Legolas were tentative at first. You were a stranger to him, a face from stories whispered in hushed tones. He longed to know the woman who carried him.
Awkward silences hung heavy in the air, punctuated by whispered stories of his life in Greenwood. He spoke of Thranduil with respect, but a flicker of sadness lingered in his eyes. He spoke of a man named Estel, a human who had become a dear friend, a story that filled you with bittersweet joy.
Then came the inevitable – a meeting with Master Gimli. Their shared tales of their unlikely friendship brought laughter to the once desolate House of Feanor.
Finally, after much coaxing, you managed to convince Legolas to attend Oropher's feast. You knew a march to invite the entire Noldorian royal family was a tad excessive, even by his standards.
Noldor marching was almost always was a perilous idea.
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"Apply this twice a day," you mutter, handing him the small vial. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, you allowed yourself to meet his gaze. "For the bruises," you clarified, pointing to the dark marks of your father's grip on his throat.
A flicker of surprise crossed his face, then settled into a mask of stoicism. His eyes, those same eyes that once held the warmth of a thousand sunrises, seemed distant, etched with the weight of untold ages. They held an emotion you couldn't quite define - a far cry from the hatred that burned in them during your last moments together.
His hand brushed against yours as he reached for the vial, sending a jolt through you. The grief that had settled between you, heavy and suffocating, felt like a tangible presence in the air.
"I apologize for my father," you began, your voice barely a whisper. "He is…"
"Troubled," he finished the sentence, his voice surprisingly gentle. "As are we all."
A heavy silence descended upon you once more. He spoke, breaking the quietude, his voice laced with a weary resignation. "I do not know what penance I shall bear to ever right the wrongs I have committed. I have searched for ages, scouring the world, but I cannot find a path back to the past I crave."
"I do not know what repentance I shall bear to ever right the wrongs I have committed," he continued, his voice barely above a murmur. "This yearning for what we once had consumes me, yet I detest it, for I do not believe I am worthy of it." His voice cracked, and for a moment, the once proud king you knew of was now stripped bare, revealing an elf consumed by regret.
The air around you seemed to crackle with unspoken apologies and unspoken yearning. You gathered your courage, forcing the words from your lips. "I do not know much of right or wrong," you began, your voice surprisingly steady. "Neither do I understand the intricacies of penance or forgiveness. Yet, from all I have learned in this strange realm, one thing resonates."
He averted his gaze, his back turned to you, his broad shoulders slumped in defeat. All the air seemed to have been sucked from the room, leaving a hollow ache in your chest.
Your mind raced, searching for the right words. "No act is set in stone. No grievance can hold its power over the relentless march of time. My kin, they wronged many, yet even they found a measure of peace." You thought of your uncles, of your father, finally released from the burdens of their choices.
"They were able to return to the light of Aman because they allowed themselves to seek forgiveness," you continued. "Beyond mine or Legolas', it is your own that you require the most." You reached out then, your fingers brushing against his cheek.
"We have all the time in the world." You leaned in, your lips brushing against his in a whisper of a kiss. A flawed marriage, a flawed separation, and a flawed reunion, yet, nothing had managed to make it any less sweeter.
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peterparkersnose · 2 years
Text
Sucks to Suck
pairing: Din Djarin x senator!reader
word count: 2.7k
warnings: near death experience, sexual references, sexual thots, not smut but sensual i guess?, alcohol consumption and drunk reader, respect of consent, SEXUAL TENSION and description of weaponds and snakes, tiny bit of body dysmorphia, swearing, takes place in between S2 of the Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett
The Mandalorian Airs Tomorrow!
a/n you guys see my padme reference there? huh? enjoy the tension the not angst but angst i loved writing this (it is 1am help i started writing this at 10pm) the sighing gif is literally din giving into his intrusive thoughts this whole story it was too perfect not to use (also i make up star wars planets lmao wut) my favorite mandalorian fic of mine besides secret
summary Din is Senator Y/N’s bodyguard and helps her after an attack
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read time: 10 mins 1 seconds
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The Mandalorian your father hired to protect you while you were visiting planet Elaeia was less than ideal.
The same one who also came back to accompany you to a senate meet where there was a threat made against your life.
And the same one that followed you around your whole beach vacation.
Somehow he turned in to an on call babysitter for you. Every time you saw him waiting outside your ship you began to loathe the trip. And soon, he began to show up around your house. Didn’t your father trust you? You were way past the age for need of a babysitter. You were a young adult, you could be the babysitter. And you were a damn senator. But as always, you sucked it up and tried to make the best of the situation.
“Don’t you ever get tired of the suit?” you asked, trudging up the stairs of your luxury apartment you rented for the week.
“Never.” Din lied. He couldn’t count the countless times he had wanted to rip it off and spent a night with you. Chills sent down his spine as he tried to think of something different to ease himself into the long week ahead.
But you were work. Your powerful father was paying him more than any bounty could. He needed the credits more than he needed you, right?
“What do you wear under there anyways?”
He hesitated to answer. “Clothes.”
“Really?” you asked sarcastically.
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he muttered, almost barely enough for you to hear.
“Where are you going to crash tonight?” you asked him, placing your bag on the ottoman in front of your bed. “Not tired,” he lied again. The way he wanted to hold you in that comfortable bed was-
He had to stop his thoughts there.
“What time is it?” you asked him. “Around 7.”
“Shit! I’m going to be late.” you panicked. “I’m sorry, I thought we had some time to rest.” you apologized, knowing Din was exhausted from the trip.
The dress that was already hung in the closet for you was what you were going to wear to the banquet tonight. Without even caring, you opened your bag and pulled out the bra you were going to wear for the night. Without hesitation, Din stepped out of the room. Not today.
The dress was a deep blue and was form fitted. It jutted out at the bottom, complimenting your shape. It had long sleeves and a low neckline where your necklace was going to rest that night. You tied your hair up into a large bun with a braid around the base.
“Your train is here…” Din said, stepping in the room carefully. “Thank you. Wait- Mando?”
His heart skipped a beat when you said his nickname. You had known his name for a while, but he still enjoyed it when you called him Mando. Din was stunned at how you looked. I mean, you always looked good. But he could imagine standing next to you at the banquet in a suit, your arm draped over his and a ring on your finger.
The armor didn’t exist in that world.
“Yeah?” he asked. “Can you get this for me?” you asked, handing him the necklace you were going to wear that night. It was gold. Large and resembled tree roots. It was to sit along your chest and clip under your breasts along with behind your neck to stay put.
He handled the necklace carefully. His arms reached up and placed the necklace in front of you as his fingers trailed up the back to clasp the neck clasp.
“Dank farrik,” he sighed. His gloves were in the way of handling the tiny clasp. “Hold it for a second,” he told you. Din sighed as he made the decision. He slowly slipped off each glove and set them down on the bed.
You seemed to tense when his hands brushed your shoulders. You turned your head and saw his gloves sitting at the edge of your bed. The skin was cold and his hands were surprisingly soft.
Din hadn’t touched a woman with his bare hands well… ever. Sure he had brought in bounties who could identify as female. But nobody as elegant and beautiful as you. He would never forget the oddly intimate encounter.
“Thank you,” you said smoothly, adjusting the necklace around your ribcage. “You could call this more of a corset,” you huffed, smiling as you caught a glimpse of his skin as he slipped his gloves back on.
Standing in the mirror, you struggled getting the bottom clasp closed. You turned your body, trying to see if you had gained a bit of weight since you last wore this piece.
“Din,” you called sweetly, almost with a bit of song in your voice. He turned around on his heel as you saw from the mirror and it made you smile. “Yes?” he asked in the same tone you called him.
The way you called for him made him think about one of the rare memories he had of his parents. How one called out to the other. It was a brief moment but gave him deja vu when he heard you speak his name. Speak his name like a wife would call to her husband.
“It won’t-”
The sigh from his modulator was hard to miss.
“Can you help?” you asked, eyes looking up into his viser.
“I’ll hold them, don’t worry.” you smiled, your hands branching down lifting up your breasts.
Under the mask his eyes widened at the comment.
Din got down on his knees to try to get a better angle of the clasp. No other reason. He tried his best to focus on the clip but he couldn’t keep his eyes off the way you held yourself. Thank the gods for the viser, or he would have died of embarrassment.
“How’s it going?” you asked him. You could feel him struggling again with the gloves.
“What if I…”
You attempted to hold your breasts with one arm and had the other hand come down to help him, but the plan failed. Your boobs folded over on his hands without fail.
His hands quickly retreated from your ribcage. You noticed the stress in his demeanor, his breathing quickened.
You thought he was upset with you. Possibly disrespecting his creed, you felt horrible. Guilt knit tightly in your stomach as you knew you were going to think about this event the whole night. The embarrassment was enough for a lifetime.
Din couldn’t care less about his creed at the moment. He had never felt boobs before.
“Oh god! I am so sorry,” you said in horror.
“I can have someone at the banquet do it, let’s just forget-”
You were silenced by the sound of his gloves hitting the ground. Once again, his hands were at your service.
“Let’s get this done. We’re going to be late.” he said.
Grabbing the chain once again, he clasped it on the first try.
He escorted you to the train silently. He held one of your hands in his. The other hand held his pair of gloves.
Din hadn’t even notice you grabbed his hand. And to be honest, you didn’t really either. It was an instinct. Trains always freaked you out and he knew that. The gap between the ground and the train car, the speed they went at. Commercial trains were filled with unsuspecting people. Thankfully, the banquet event sent out personal trains for some of the local senators.
Finally you only noticed when he pulled away to put his gloves back on as you pulled closer to the event.
Had he really been holding your hand the whole time?
Meanwhile back at the apartment you had rented, you expected it to be empty. There was no need for a guard, you had only just arrived. Your location to be revealed to possible rebels wasn’t likely, you were stationed there for only a short time. A guard would follow you home along with Din.
You knew Din was capable of protecting you, he had every time. Something about a man in armor killing in your name just did something to you. But the uncertainty of almost everything about him made you push that idea to the back of your mind. And anyways, you were bound to marry for a political reason some day. It was coming eventually you assumed. Dates were never nearly as exciting as an adventure with Din.
The guard honestly was a joke at this point. It gave your advisors a piece of mind though, so you allowed it.
The seemingly empty apartment was carefully broken into. The sliding glass door from the balcony was opened, no fingerprints left and promptly shut as the rebel left.
Poisonous snakes were left slithering in your sheets.
It was something you would later recognize as a similar thing had happened to a senator many years ago. Poisonous bugs left to crawl in her bed.
Din walked you off the train platform and back to your apartment as quickly as he could. You, on the other hand, we’re being difficult.
“Don’t you ever take vacations?” you asked him, barely able to stand upright. He ignored your strange drunken question and kept holding on to you. “You didn’t answer meee!” you yelled, breaking free from his grasp and raising your hands to the air. The mist had accumulated from the oncoming storm.
“No. I don’t.” he sighed, grabbing your arm gently and guiding you back to the lobby with a hand placed on your lower back.
“Din,” you slurred, holding on to his armor in the elevator. Your fingers marched up his beskar chest plate as you asked him this.
“You ever had a girlfriend before?”
He blinked furiously under his helmet. What the fuck?
“Y/N, let’s get you to bed. Hm?”
“But Dinnn,”
“Come on,” he sighed, placing his hand on your back. The guard was stationed at the door. Din gave him a nod.
“I’m not sleepy!” you insisted, angered that you were being forced to end this wonderful night.
Din threw his gloves on the kitchen counter. He was getting sick of the things. After all these years in gloves, his hands never felt as uncomfortable and sweaty as they did that night.
“Here,” he sighed, steadying you by the shoulder and unclasping the clasp by your neck. The heavy necklace seemed to fall off yourself, only slightly catching at the waist.
“Thank you mister.” you said, letting it drop to the floor with a shake of your hips. Along with that you left your heels.
He saw you face dive into your bed and chuckled a bit as he was picking up after you. That necklace was probably worth more than the beskar he was wearing.
Din eyed up the couch, exhausted after watching you all night. He stood in the balcony of the event and watched you drink yourself almost to the point of embarrassment until he decided it was time for you to return home.
He had just began to settle in when he heard you scream.
It wasn’t like he had heard you scream before. He was used to all the rage screams when an article came out portraying you negatively. He was used to all the screams over the phone with your friends. He was used to the muffled screams he heard as he hid in his quarters when you would have dates over and prayed it would end.
But he would never forget this one.
He knocked over the vase on the coffee table, but didn’t really care.
The prolonged scream attracted the interest of the guard who busted in, spear ready.
Din had made it in the room first. He drew his blaster watched as you simultaneously chucked a snake in his direction. His blaster shot, killing the thing.
“Are you okay?” he asked, grabbing you immediately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried into his armor.
The guard ripped back the sheets and found three more slithering in the sheets. The sight of that made you shriek more.
Din’s hand ran across the back of your head. His fingers hadn’t felt hair like that in forever. His own locks didn’t match up to your softness.
The guard removed each snake and silently killed them.
“Cardillian Greybecks,” the guard sighed, now bagging the snake carcasses. “I’m going to bring these down to the base, are you two all right alone or should I call someone?”
“We’re fine.” Din said sternly, praying for the man to leave.
He calmed you enough to sit you back down on the edge of the bed. “Everything is okay. No more snakes, see?” he says, shaking out a blanket.
“Fuck,” you sighed, your hand running down the side of your leg. “You alright?” Din asked, shaking out the pillows just in case.
“I must have scratched my leg in the scuffle, it really fucking hurts.” you slurred, rubbing the side of your leg. Of course the alcohol was still there.
“Oh gods,” Din sighed, asking for your leg immediately. Laying back against the bed, you lifted your right leg in the air for him to inspect. If he wasn’t so worried he would have thought the pose was somewhat provocative.
“Shit,” he sighed. You were bitten.
“What?” you asked eagerly, pulling your leg back. He held on to it though, staring at the festering wound on your leg.
“It hurts. Please,” you begged, pulling your leg back. Din was scrambling on what to do.
“This…” he sighed, hating the only option available. There wasn’t enough time to get you to a proper medic.
“Hold still.”
He slowly lifted his helmet up to the bottom of his nose to reveal his mouth and chin.
“Din!” you yelled as his lips made contact with your skin. “What the-” you began, but immediately soothed as you felt the venom leaving your bite. A needy moan escaped from your lips.
Din spat out the first round of venom. It stung his lips. It wasn’t enough to kill him, it wasn’t in his bloodstream. It tasted bitter and artificial.
“Oh my god,” you whined as his lips continued to suck on the wound. “Din, holy fuck.” you moaned, squirming in his grasp.
Even though you just had been on the brink of death, this was one of the most sensual things you had ever experienced in your opinion. The thought of his lips teasing you drove you up the walls.
He spit out another round. “One more, I’m sorry.”
You gasped at his voice. No mask, no modulator. “Oh gods, don’t stop.” you begged. Your back arched as he took in the final round, finally tasting blood to indicate the venom was gone.
He spit it out on the ground and slipped his mask back on.
“What?” he asked out of breathe. He had convinced himself he didn’t just hear what he thought he did. His ears were muffled by the mask in its awkward position.
Sitting up in bed, you patted the mattress. He sat down.
“That was so hot,” you whispered near his ear.
He didn’t say anything to you. You had prayed he would rip off his mask and take you then and there. Din wanted the same thing too, he would feverishly re play this night over and over in his mind for years.
But you were wasted. And he had a creed.
Even though after each passing day without Grogu his allegiance to his creed drew weaker, he still had his limits.
Din knew you would regret those words in the morning. But the phrase Cara told him many moons ago rung in his brain.
“Drunk words are sober thoughts.”
“Talk to me when your sober.” he replied. He stood up and removed the base of the helmet once again. You embraced his body as he kissed you on the top of your head.
“Din,” you feverishly whispered. Without a second thought, you stood up. His body pushed against yours as you passionately kissed his lips. Your nose bumped the mask up more, but neither of you cared. His nose brushed against yours as you kept your eyes shut. The urge to look was strong, but you respected him too much to take a peek.
“One day,” he smiled, breaking the kiss. “Are you sure I can’t see more?” you asked. He shook his head as he pulled the mask down again. “One day,” he repeated, his voice now modulated again.
“Thank you for saving my life.” you said. “Any day,” he said sarcastically.
He placed the blankets securely over you.
The room was dim enough where he was sure if he was ever caught he would have an excuse. And you would lie for him, he was certain of it.
“Just one more thing-” you asked as his silhouette made its way through your door. He turned and looked at you.
“What color are your eyes?”
He had the widest smile on his face. The thought of you trying to form his face in your mind was almost comical for him.
“Brown. Good night, Cyare.”
“I knew they were brown, I knew it.” you whispered to yourself, convinced Din couldn’t hear.
He smiled as he retreated to the couch, unsure if sleep would visit him after his eventful night.
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