#sweet din djarin

[galactic-star-bruiser]

Work song x Din (request)

Din Djarin x f!reader

work song- Hozier

ahhhh I wish I could tag the anon who requested this bc it was just too good of a song for our protective boy.

no warnings except slight cursing and minor violence

Work Song request x

Boys, workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burnin' heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love, I could barely eat

I had been on a bounty for two weeks now...much longer than expected. 

Any time I had to spare I stole away to my hotel room and thought of her hands on me. It was the only thing that kept me sane. 

Every day we got closer to the bounty was one more day I was away from her. 

Double edged sword. 

There's nothin' sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me

I would’ve done anything to feel her lips on mine again. 

What if she was gone when I was back? What if I couldn’t protect her like I promised because I’ve been away too long....

The work was brutal, the suns of the dessert beat down on me and there wasn’t a time that I didn’t feel sweat dripping down beneath my armor. 

I was forced to take a mission with another bounty hunter as per request of Karga. He was a bastard for that.

She thought touching me unexpectedly and calling me ‘Mando’ was cute. It wasn’t. 

She wasn’t my girl.

I couldn’t give up the bounty though because the credits were high and I wanted to be the provider I set out to be. 

I wanted to make a family. I only wanted my baby who was waiting for me alone in the razor crest. 

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

The grueling hunt began wearing on me as we hit our third week. 

Three weeks of hearing high pitched ‘Mando’s’ and another woman’s presence surrounding me. 

If I were to be shot on this god forsaken mission I swear I’d drag my fucking body to the razor crest myself. 

I’d come home to her like I promised. No matter what. 

As if something in the galaxy was listening, my fate came to me all too quickly. 

I was in the bar beneath my hotel, sitting in a dark corner where no one could see me knock back the drinks I was ordering. The burn felt good against the pain of missing her.

I was caught off guard... that never happens 

unless I’m thinking about her

I thought I was dead. I let a cold ring drag me under and gave way to unconsciousness.

Boys, when my baby found me

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Nothin' in her room but an empty crib

I felt my body being carted somewhere. 

I couldn’t open my eyes but I knew my helmet was still on. 

I didn’t even care at this point. All I cared about was getting back home to her. 

And I was burnin' up a fever

I didn't care much how long I lived

But I swear, I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did

I could feel everything even if I couldn’t open my eyes. 

I heard everything. 

The fucking hunter I was sent with had double crossed me. Bad mistake. 

My hands were tied against what felt like a wood beam and wherever I was smelled dark and damp. 

My eyes were slowly starting to open and I set my vision on the woman who was supposed to be my partner, circling me like a shark. 

“Let me go before this gets ugly”

She chuckled mockingly. “Please, Mando. Did you really think I’d share this bounty with you? No fucking way.”

A blaster was lifted to my neck, touching the cowl that laid on my throat.

“I won’t ask you again.” I said with a vicious tone. 

Her last laugh sent me over the edge. My hands had been freed from their weak ties full moments before. 

The thought of her made me want to act more rationally. Come home safe rather than risking my life.

In one fell swoop I was standing and held the woman’s own blaster against her head. 

“Why shouldn’t I blow your brains out right here?”

“Heeeey, mando” she chuckled nervously and raised her arms “It was just a joke, you know how it is. Working with someone as handsome as you makes it hard to control myself. “

I pulled the trigger. 

My babe would never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord don't forgive me

I'd still have my baby, and my babe would have me

She’s never once asked me what I did to come home in the shape I was usually in. 

I was grateful for that.

Speaking to her of the cruelties of the galaxy felt as though I were staining her. 

I must’ve been walking for miles, blaster hanging limply in my hand.

When the crest made its way into my sight I dropped it and used whatever strength I had left to sprint.

I made it to the door. I knew I had lost blood in the attack but I was losing adrenaline now and I could feel everything. 

It was as if an angel had opened the crest on some orphan who had been left at her door step.

Her cry and gasp were the last things I heard before succumbing to my injuries. 

When I was kissin' on my baby

And she put her love down, soft and sweet

In the low lamplight, I was free

Heaven and hell were words to me

I dreamt that we had a Home. Children. Safety. 

We were older and our bodies were allowed to age rather than be brutalized by bounties and fights. 

We were happy. 

I could’ve died if it meant living in that dream.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

Small, delicate, hands were tracing the outlines of my face when I finally opened my tired eyes. 

“You came back to me” she sobbed. 

“I said I would. I would’ve dragged myself back to you.”

[dindjarindiaries]

Clueless

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompts: “Are you flirting with me?” “Have been for years, but thanks for noticing.”

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

You tapped around the usual controls you could reach from the chair behind Din's as the cockpit of the Razor Crest groaned to life around you. "How's the hyperdrive looking?"

Din kept moving his gloved hands along the main console as he answered. "It's online." He gave his helmet a quick tilt as he pushed one more button above his head. "For now."

Din exhaled a heavy breath and wrapped his hands around the joysticks, giving them a squeeze before he maneuvered the gunship off the ground. The breath you let out was one of relief; the two of you had certainly been trapped on worse planets before, but you were glad to see the sight of it fading below you.

"Glad you're confident in your work." You failed to hide your growing smile as you relaxed and let Din take care of the rest.

"This isn't a confidence problem." Din spared a look at you over his shoulder before he lifted his hands to grasp the hyperspace levers. "The Crest just manages to surprise me from time to time."

With that, Din pulled back, and the stars stretched out before you. They then burst into the familiar plethora of blue and white swirling lights, beginning yet another long journey through hyperspace.

Hopefully one that you wouldn't get forcefully pulled out of. Again.

But you were still stuck on what Din had said: This isn't a confidence problem. That drew a pleased hum from you, one that you didn't bother to keep hidden from him. It wasn't like he'd get it, anyway. Not if he hadn't the other countless times you'd done it.

"I like that."

Din, now leaning back in his chair, swiveled in his seat to face you. His helmet was tilted in genuine confusion. "Like what?"

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you instead gestured to him with your chin. "The confidence."

Din shrugged. "Comes from experience."

You smirked and kept your arms crossed over your chest. "I'd like to see what kind of experience."

Din didn't move, but his tone spelled out all the confusion you likely would have seen on his face if it wasn't covered by his helmet. "Was getting pulled out of hyperspace hours ago not enough experience for you?"

That time, you really did let yourself roll your eyes as you laughed and stood to your feet. Honestly, the tally of your advances versus Din's own cluelessness was getting difficult to keep track of. "Fair point."

You stepped over to Din and set a hand on his armored shoulder.

"It's been a long day. I'd say it's time for some beauty sleep, but you've already got the first part covered." You gave his pauldron a squeeze and turned around. "And no, rest isn't an option this time."

You could only get a few steps away, however, when you suddenly heard Din stand up behind you. "Wait."

You froze in place and looked at him over your shoulder, lifting your brow as you awaited him to retaliate with some kind of meaningless yet humorous joke.

Instead, you saw him nervously shifting his weight between his feet. Even his gloved hands were pulling tight into fists before he asked a question you never thought you'd hear.

"Are you flirting with me?"

As surprised as you were to hear the words, you didn't miss a beat with your response. "Have been for years, but thanks for noticing." You flashed him a wink and started walking forward again, letting your sudden adrenaline carry you. "See you in a few hours."

You had only just started to cross the cockpit's threshold when Din found his voice again. "What?"

You laughed to yourself but didn't stop your stride as you stepped over the ladder towards the storage space you had claimed as your own private bunk. The door slid open for you, but before it could close, something—or someone—stood in the way.

"Hold on."

Din sounded out of breath, and when you turned around, you saw him leaning against the metal material of the storage room's threshold. His body was still rigid, the same way it looked when he was preparing to leap into battle.

"You can't just... after you..." Din gestured absently behind himself, to the open cockpit.

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest again as you fully faced him. "I know this incredibly obvious revelation is somehow news to you, but it's not to me, and I'd really like to get some sleep."

Din just shook his helmet in pure disbelief. His modulated voice was lower than usual when he spoke again. "All this time?"

You huffed and looked down at your boots. "What did you think I was doing?"

Din's tone with thick with embarrassment. "Being nice."

You laughed again. You couldn't help it. "Of course you did." You reached forward and tapped your knuckles against his helmet. "Your skull must be as thick as your beskar."

You stood back where you were before and watched Din carefully. His visor was focused on the floor, and his gloved fingertips were fluttering thoughtfully on the hand he had propped up by his head.

You closed your eyes and sighed. His cluelessness was even worse than you thought it was.

"Listen, Din, you clearly need some rest. Just... go to sleep and we can talk about this later. Okay?"

Din's helmet snapped back up to you at that. "No. I'm sorry, let me just..."

He leaned off the threshold but continued to stand in it, keeping the door open for himself. His gloved hand palmed his helmet as his chest rose and fell with a frustrated breath.

"Kriff."

You chuckled and shook your head at him. "Din, it's really not that big of a deal."

Din stared at you before his armored shoulders deflated. "It isn't?"

You let out a softer breath as your chest squeezed. "I didn't mean..." Now you were the one palming your face. "Not like that. I just meant that I'm not offended or anything."

Din tilted his helmet. "Offended by what?"

You shrugged, too overcome by your newfound embarrassment to look at him as your stare returned to your boots. "You not reciprocating."

Din let out a sigh so heavy that you had no choice but to look up at him again. He had changed his position so that his hands were set on his hips as he shook his helmet.

"That's the thing." His visor found your gaze before he nodded. "I've been trying to."

Now, it was really your turn to be shocked. You blinked at him a few times as your heart somersaulted in your chest. All this time, you thought your flirting was just a vain effort to get the attention of a man who would never be open to you or what you had to offer. You were starting to wonder if you had somehow managed to miss something.

You found your voice, but it was only a squeak. "What?"

Din gestured with a gloved hand behind you. "I'm not good with words, so I tried to do things. Like helping you set up this room. And cleaning your weapons." The next part was a mumble you nearly missed. "And making you that blanket."

You whipped around, spotting the blanket—your favorite, by the way—that had just shown up one day on your makeshift bunk. You huffed in disbelief and turned back around to face him. "That was you?"

"Who else?"

It was Din's turn to laugh, though it was only a raspy chuckle for him. He even turned your own question back on you.

"What did you think I was doing?"

And your answer was nothing different. "Being nice."

Din let out the biggest sigh you'd ever heard from him, and you couldn't even blame him.

Oh, the irony of it all. Maybe you were actually the clueless one.

"So..." You clasped your hands behind your back and rocked on your heels. " What now?"

Din shrugged. "Hell if I know." He gestured with his helmet behind him. "I think I just proved I'm not the most qualified in this area."

You spared another glance at the blanket. "Clearly, I'm not much better."

Din looked off to the side the way he always did when he was planning something. After a few heartbeats, he nodded to himself and looked at you again. "I might have an idea."

You lifted your brow. "Yeah?"

Din nodded again. "We should switch."

"Switch what?"

Din shifted his weight and used his finger to gesture between the two of you. "Techniques?" The suggestion came out as a question. "I'll try words, and you try actions."

You hummed in consideration before ultimately nodding. "Okay, yeah. I like that idea." You smirked at him. "You first."

Din, for once in his life, stammered. "What? I—Well, I can't just..."

"You can." You took a step closer to him. "You have something to say to me. I know you do."

It was then that something overcame Din, and you could see it in the way his posture relaxed into something much more familiar and comfortable. His visor gave you a steady once-over as he took a smaller step closer to you.

"I have a lot of things I want to say to you."

You let yourself embrace the flustered feeling even as you let out an impressed whistle. "That was good, Djarin! You're learning." You gave his armored shoulder a pat.

Din gave his helmet a soft tilt. "Your turn."

You grinned, letting your hand fall from his shoulder to instead grasp his arm. You other hand rose to meet it, and gently, you pulled him further into the room, causing the door to slide shut behind him. Din looked back at it in surprise, but when he looked at you again, he didn't seem displeased.

"I'm offering you my bunk." You gestured back towards it. "Because I want you here, but also because I don't want you sleeping on that sorry excuse for a bed down in the hold anymore."

Din chuckled at that, the sound thick with both amusement and admiration as he nodded. "Fair enough."

You helped him get settled into the bunk with you, draping the blanket he had apparently made over both of you as the final touch. Your face was the closest it had ever been to his visor as you laid beside him. Surprisingly, he was the one to break the brief silence.

"This is a good start."

You smiled, humming once more before getting close enough to rest your face against his cowl. "I agree."

The gloved hand you felt on your back was enough evidence of the fact that he was just as comfortable, now, and not as clueless as you had thought him to be.

[bon-sides-sw]

When you're littol, just swore your creed, also have a younger brother

S3 Inspired my to draw bebi Din and Paz

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Too Sweet

A/N: Hi friends. I haven't written anything in a while, as I've been tussling with my mental health and raging SAD from the weather near me. Please accept this Mandalorian drabble? Rambling? Takes place between the end of season two and Din's appearance in the Book of Boba Fett. Tags: The Mandalorian, Mandalorian x Reader, Din Djarin x Reader, Mandalorian x F!Reader, Apostate!Din WARNINGS: None Summary: You've been a safe place for Din Djarin for years. He comes to you at his most vulnerable, but always has to leave before you're ready. Title inspired by the Hozier song of the same name.

Word count: 1.6k+

Hours later, you’re still in shock.

Din Djarin is in bed next to you, sans helmet.

It wasn’t unusual for him to be in your home- hell, it would be more unusual for him not to be there between jobs. Your Mandalorian had spent years visiting, hovering somewhere in between a lover and a partner. He shows up in the afternoon one day, and is gone early in the morning before you wake. When he returns, beaten and bruised, you chastise him for leaving without saying goodbye. The routine was comfortable. Familiar. 

Except every other time he had been there, you had never seen his face. 

It feels like a dance each time he comes. You tend to his wounds quickly but gently, lathering cuts and bruises in bacta before wrapping bandages or slings where necessary to let the medication heal. Once you’ve played nurse, Din secludes himself to your study to eat dinner. And each time, without fail, he leads you to the bedroom to extinguish the fireplace and blow out your candles. His hands find your body, and he ravishes you in the darkness. 

Key word being darkness.

Today was the same song and dance. He’d limped into your cabin without greeting, shaking snow from his armored body and settling himself into a kitchen chair while you fussed. A tube of bacta and half a roll of bandages later, he silently trudged away to eat in the study. There was a distinct lack of little green child with him today, which was a major concern after the past year. You suspected it had something to do with the oppressive sense of sorrow following him through the house. So you carried on with your usual routine, asking little to no questions. It wasn’t until he’d crowded you up against the sink, bowl still in your grip as you rinsed it, that he spoke. 

“Mesh’la.”

Strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, and you leaned back into an unarmored chest. In hindsight, you chastised yourself for not noticing the words lacked the electrical buzz of a vocoder. 

“Din.” You returned.

He only grunts, right hand gliding up your side. It grips your shoulder, and presses until you turn to face him, bowl still gripped in your damp fingers. 

“You know, words are- Din!”

The porcelain bowl shattered as it collided with the kitchen floor. You’d dropped it out of pure instinct, hands flying up to cover your eyes. As much as you’d tried to forget what you saw, it was burned into your brain. Wavy hair, long nose with a scar crossing the bridge of it. Big, brown eyes that couldn’t possibly belong to someone so stern and ruthless. It flashes across your mind, and you almost tear up at the thought of Din breaking his Creed after all these years. 

But he’d pulled your hands away and explained - while your eyes are still pinched closed- that he was an apostate. The Child was returned to his own people, but at the cost of Din’s Creed. It had taken minutes of coaxing and reassurance, but you’d opened your eyes and cursed the universe for being so cruel as to hide such a face. From the set of his brow to the nervous biting of his lip, you basked in seeing so much bare skin. It took less time for him to attach his lips to yours and lead you out of the kitchen.

He’d taken you to bed, and now here you sit. 

Your room isn’t anything special. Quaint and cozy if nothing else, with two small windows that face out over the mountain’s edge. A fireplace flickers opposite the bed, its warmth trickling out to the sheets and heating your toes. Two bookshelves border either side of your headboard, with a nightstand tucked on Din’s side of the bed. On it, the usually extinguished candles burn bright. 

The firelight flickers against Din’s tan skin, highlighting each bead of sweat and curled tendril of hair where it sticks to his forehead. He’s naked, back propped against the headboard and covered in a maroon sheet from the waist down. You’ve donned a short silk robe, black and bordered with lace where it plunges between your breasts. You lay between his legs above the sheets, head on his chest. One of his large hands caresses your scalp and trails to the ends of your hair. The other hand is occupied by a half-full glass of old Corellian whiskey. 

You trace a line of yellow bruises on his hip where they extend below the sheet on his lap. 

“What happened to you?”

His chest rumbles. “I fought an Imperial Moff. And Imperial battle droids.”

Your eyes widen, and you sit up. Din’s hand leaves your hair to grasp at your waist, pulling you to face him.

“Stars, Din.” You reach out to touch a patch of black and blue skin over his collarbone. “No wonder you’re so beat up. I’ll get you some more bacta before we go to sleep.”

He lifts your fingers from his collarbone to his mouth, kissing each fingertip. “You’re too good to me, cyar’ika.”

“You deserve it.” Is your instant reply. 

If there was anything you knew about Din, it was that he never quite comprehended the good he brought to the world. 

The Mandalorian brings the whiskey to his lips and takes a swig. You opt to push an errant curl behind his ear. 

“I’m not a good man,” Your name falls off his tongue like honey. “Spent my whole life as kyramud.” 

You tilt your head at the Mando’a. He’d called you some pet names for years- mesh’la, cyar’ika. But this… kyramud was new. Without his helmet, hearing anything out of his mouth was like a drug. But Mando’a warmed you to the core, building off Din’s comfort and fondness when he spoke the ancient tongue. You yearned to know more. 

“Teach me Mando’a.” You kiss him gently, tasting the whiskey where it lingers on his lips. “So I can tell you why you deserve every bit of kindness.”

Din adjusts your legs so you’re sitting square between his, rear end on the bed and calves straddling his waist. He props you up with the ridiculous amount of pillows lying around. 

“I’ll teach you anything you want.” Din strokes your knee. “Where do I start?”

You chew on your bottom lip. “What am I to you?”

“Ner cyare.” He pauses, debating. The whiskey makes another appearance, and you’re distracted by his Adam's apple bobbing deliciously in the column of his throat. “Naysol uj par ni. Each day I see you is aay’han.”

“What does that mean?”

Din tilts your chin up. “My beloved. Too sweet for me.”

You blush. “What about the end? Ay-hen?”

“Aay’han. Mourning and joy. At the same time.” He finishes the whiskey. “I mourn when I leave you here.”

Much to your annoyance, tears prick your eyes at the reminder that when you closed them, he would be gone before you woke. “Don’t remind me. Please.”

Din leans forward to capture your lips with his. The sensation only serves to make the stinging behind your eyes worse, and a single tear drips down your cheek. He’s quick to kiss it away, large hand curling into your hair. You climb all the way into his lap, suddenly desperate for closeness. His skin is hot and damp, and you’ve never felt anything better. 

“Ni ceta. I never meant to hurt you.”

You sniffle against his neck. “Just promise me you’ll say goodbye from now on.”

He wets two fingers with his tongue and extinguishes the candles before cradling you in strong arms. Two words are murmured into your hair, quiet but sound.  

“I promise.”

You grip him tighter than ever, warmth sadly fading as the dread of morning envelopes you. 

*

The reflection of daylight off snow-covered ground wakes you. 

It bounces in your windows, bathing the room in cool white light. You blink slowly, a heaviness settled on all of your limbs. It’s a familiar soreness that aches from your shoulders to between your legs, dredging up memories of the night before. Din’s bare face, and all the sweet words in Mando’a that he tried to teach you before you remembered he can never stay as long as you’d like. You sigh, letting one of your arms dangle off the edge of the bed. The thought of turning over and seeing the candles, thinking about him blowing them out on each visit was too fresh. It’s easier to lay and stew in your sadness, watching fluffy flakes of snow fall. The clock on your wall reads ‘1457’, another unintentional reminder of your late-night escapades.

You hate to admit that the feeling makes you tear up again. So you lay in bed, curled beneath a thick comforter while the fireplace crackles its last few breaths towards your feet. It’s easier to stare at the snow than it is to close your eyes and think about Din. 

“Damn it.” You breathe. 

“What are you damning?”

You swear that you stop breathing for a moment. Despite the fact that he had already spoken, you ask aloud, “Din?”

The sounds of bare feet padding across the floor nears, and the Mandalorian appears in your vision. Barefoot and clad only in a pair of loose gray lounge pants that tighten at his ankles. His abdomen is without cover, displaying an array of healing bruises and deep scars. You sit up, letting your feet hang off the bed. 

“You’re still here?” You look at the clock again. “At 1500?”

Din smiles, kneeling in front of you. He presses a mug of steaming Caf into your hands and a kiss to your forehead. 

“If it’s alright with you… I might be for a while.”

It’s your turn to smile as he smoothes away your bedhead. 

“No arguments.” You sip at the warm mug. “I’ll keep taking my Caf in bed, though.”

___________________________________________________

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Masterlist | Send me ideas

[nhyhu]

Another @dinlukebigbang piece!

This is for the lovely @maered613's fic (Did We Build This?) Ship to Wreck which is a pirate/medieval au and its sooooo much fun and such amazing characterization of everyone <333 and you should all go read it!!!

also some sketches :)

[demigoddessqueens]

*me, at the Trope™️ store

The reluctant father figure who adopts a scruffy child?

Yes I would like some more please 🙏

[froglover7789]

dinluke fics where lukes power is acknowledged and hes not written like some incompetent maiden who needs to be protected >>>>>>>>>

[pedro-pedrito-pascalito]

His freaking patchy beard is so damn cute but so sexy at the same time.

[hinderr]

Happy Birthday

[joelsbloodyhands]

I TAKE MY WHISKEY NEEEEAAAT

MY COFFEE BLACK

AND MY BED AT THREE

[dindjarindiaries]

Dincember 2024 - December 20, 21, & 22: Thankful, Winter, & Snowflake

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompts: Thankful, Winter, & Snowflake

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

"You're not gonna like the cold."

You huffed indignantly at Din's statement and tossed him a look over your shoulder. "I'll never know until I try."

Din sighed and lowered the ship to the surface, anyway. You finished suiting up for the winter climate of this planet the way Din had requested you to and hovered over his shoulder as the Crest made its descent. The fields of white were a wondrous site, stretching out endlessly into the horizon. Daylight was already fading fast, something Din said was common during the colder season on this world.

"Well, I don't like the cold." Din mumbled these words quietly enough that it was very possible he hadn't meant for you to hear them at all.

You laughed and lightly jostled his chair. "In that case, thank you for taking me anyway. You must like me more than I think."

It was Din's turn to give you a look, though his visor couldn't linger long as he focused on the landing cycle. You snorted and took your seat, alleviating some of the unease radiating off of him. He settled as soon as you did.

You exhaled through your nose. Protective.

The Crest soon touched down, and almost instantly, you could feel the cold Din had been warning about nipping at your nose. The rest of you was layered enough for you not to feel anything just yet, but it was easy to understand how you could if you were exposed to it for too long.

Din turned in his seat and stood. He stopped and tilted his helmet at you. "Regretting your decision already?"

You stood up and gave his beskar chestplate a push. "No."

Din chuckled behind you as you set out to the hold. You skipped the last few rungs of the ladder and, in your excitement, all but slapped the button to open the hatch. Din hovered close behind you.

The first blast of cold air blew through, intense enough that you took a step back. Din's gloved hands reached out to grab your elbows and steady you when you accidentally ran right into him.

"Easy, there." His hands gave your elbows a squeeze before he released them. "We haven't even gone outside yet."

You rolled your eyes and stepped forward as the ramp lowered fully to the ground. You squinted at the intensity of the lowering sun reflecting off the snow, but adjusted quickly until your eyes were twice their usual size.

"Wow." It was the only word your brain could come up with as you looked around the snow-laden landscape.

More snow was still coming down, soft flakes that were weightless as you held out your palms for them. You watched one land and dissolve in the warmth of your gloved hand, only catching a quick glimpse of its unique crystalline structure.

You bent down to pick up some of the snow that had already fallen onto the ground. It shaped to your palms as you turned it over and over, soon creating a snowball from it. You gave it a toss in your hand, but the material was delicate enough to fall apart as you did so.

Above all else, however, it was absolutely silent. It was as if every nearby creature had retreated into warmth, allowing you to watch the snowfall as if you were the only person in the galaxy witnessing it.

That's when you remembered that you weren't alone, and the silence from your partner was beginning to get unusual, especially when he was supposed to be teasing you about the cold.

You spun around and saw Din standing on the ramp, his arms hanging at his sides as his helmet tilted at you curiously. You furrowed your brow.

"Already frozen? We've only been out here for a minute or two."

Din's helmet straightened before he shook his head and stepped forward. "No. Just..."

He stopped when he was in front of you. You blinked up at him innocently. "Just what?"

Din's visor continued to stare down at you. He only moved when you felt a snowflake land on your lashes, making you blink a few times to remove it. His gloved fingers instead took care of it for you, and you thanked him quietly.

"Just never thought I'd find any of this to be beautiful."

Din's fingertips, still cool from the melted snow, grazed over your cheek.

"Not until now."

You beamed and looked down, shrugging in your sudden shyness. "It can help to have a new perspective."

You looked back up when Din remained silent. He was still close, and the proximity was revealing just how much warmth he was capable of radiating on his own. You were instantly drawn to it.

"Thank you." You mustered as much meaning as you could into the words as your arms carefully wrapped around Din's waist. You pressed your cheek against the inside of his shoulder and closed your eyes in satisfaction. "I'm glad you brought me here."

Din held you back, which filled you with even more warmth than before. "I am, too."

[froglover7789]

is there a reason dinluke lawyer fics are a thing? who started that? why did you start that? not like. judging im just so so confused. you kindergarten teacher luke fic authors got it figured out like thats literally what he does in canon after being a revolutionary. and din would like... idk what hed do whats the irl equivalent of space bounty hunting. bus driver? irl bounty hunting? mafia? handyman? idk i see a lot of ppl make him have a body shop which like i appreciate ur faith in him but iirc hes not car/ship savvy... hmmmm....

[theartsalsa]

I think Din gets his eyes from his Mother

IT'S THE BEGINNING OF STAR WARS SEPTEMBERRRR

Being hosted by @savvyyart on instagram!

[draculasfavoritewife]

Was Blind, But Now I See

Summary: An eventful night planetside turns into something far deeper than your usual passionate embrace.

Pairing: Din Djarin x fem!Reader

Warnings: Sexual tension in every direction. Much angst. Possessive! Din. Reader might have a bit of a gambling problem. I use several long paragraphs to describe how beautiful I find Din Djarin. Religious trauma, Din being a bit of a soft dom here and there, implied smut at the end.

Din Djarin is truly at his best when he has someone to claim as HIS, and I really think we need to see more of that *I have spoken* Also, although my fics are not necessarily fully canon-compliant, this piece does take place pre-season-3 because he is still an apostate, for anyone who was wondering :)

*Translations of less common words/phrases in Mando'a at the end

You idly swirl your half-empty glass and wonder if it would be worth the pointed glare from your partner to ask him again if he wants a taste.

"I know what you're thinking," he grumbles from his seat beside you.

Immediately you affect a pose of dramatic injury. "You can't possibly accuse me of --"

"And no, I don't want a taste of your drink," he steamrolls over your protest. "I'm no closer to betraying my creed than I was an hour ago."

"Lucky guess," you smirk.

He snorts, a faint crackling of his vocal modulator. "Hardly."

You swivel around on the bar stool with a stifled groan, gaze flitting over the diverse crowd in the cantina. "Where's your contact?"

"They'll get here when they get here." His voice is even, nearly a drawl. You're not fooled by his apparent relaxed demeanor, though; long hours spent together in silence in the cockpit have clued you in to his minuscule tells. The alert focus of his helmet's visor, the tautness in his spine that means he could spring to his feet in an instant, the way his right hand almost absently brushes past his holster. Tiny things that would escape the eye of most, but you see, and know that he's ready for anything.

He's always ready for anything.

You wish, as you so often do, that there was somewhere he could truly drop his eternal vigilance and be free of his shadows for a time.

"Don't you give me that look."

You shake out of your reverie. "I wasn't even looking at you!"

"You were in your head, and that's worse," he observes matter-of-factly. "This is not the time, nor the place. Go play a round of sabacc if you need a way to pass the time." He jabs a nod in the direction of the corner table, where a motley group is arguing loudly over house rules.

It's very tempting. You haven't hustled a game table in a long time, and you might even come away with a handsome win, if you remember to quit while you're ahead.

"Come watch me?" You lean closer to him. "I promise you a good time, it looks like a real group of nerf herders over there."

"Pass." There's finally a note of something like annoyance in his tone. "We can't both be distracted."

"Alright! I can take a hint." You drain your glass and rise, sauntering away to the table. "I'm not responsible for any brawls, though."

"Sure. Feel like I've heard that one before." The Mandalorian tears his gaze away from your retreating figure and turns his attention back to scanning the crowd. Normally you're as patient as he is, and normally he wouldn't encourage you to indulge your recovering sabacc habit, but whether it's the fault of a recent hunt that ran longer than expected or the rough flight to reach this system, he knows you're both on edge.

After all, whether on the job or with the both of you taking shifts in the pilot's chair through a particularly harrowing debris field, little time has been left for the pair of you to spend together recently.

Though he may not be well-versed in the ways of your adopted culture's kinetic communication, he definitely recognized that look in your eyes. It's the look when you start fantasizing about finally getting him out of all that beskar and into a much more...personal setting.

And he can't have you keep staring at him like that, or he starts thinking about it too.

"It's better this way," he mutters under his breath, consciously avoiding the game table with his searching gaze.

His man had better show up soon.

The group at the card table is finally starting to catch on that you just might know a bit more about sabacc than you said earlier. The heap of credits in front of you has grown substantially in the hour since you joined their circle, and the Nikto across from you is beginning to get agitated.

Still, that's preferable to the Zabrak next to you, who's been making increasingly obvious passes at you with each win you take.

"Come on, Boys, one more round," you urge as you sweep more credits into your pile and begin stacking them neatly. "I swear, it's beginner's luck, I can't possibly keep winning forever."

There's a general grumbling as some leave the table, having had enough for the night.

The Nikto asks in Huttese what could possibly sweeten the deal.

So, high on the rush of winning, you make the ill-advised decision to throw your Corellian Jiang necklace into the pot, and end up somehow losing to the protocol droid.

"That's not possible!" you protest, throwing down your cards. "I had full sabacc! The odds of an Idiot's Array are astronomically low! Something's not adding up."

But the droid adamantly defends itself, so you leave in a huff, more torn up about the loss of the necklace than you'd care to admit. It was the only thing you had left of an old friend during a stint on Corellia a long time ago, and meant a good deal more to you than just its rarity and value.

You find your way back to your seat next to Din and bark at the bartender for a hot caf.

"Kriff. That bad?" he asks, and you could swear you hear the hint of a grin teasing at the edges of his voice.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You always get a Fire Dancer when you win," he observes. "Caf is your sad drink."

"I've made some bad choices," you lament over the edge of the steaming mug. "But I'll live."

"Glad to hear it." He falls silent again as the Zabrak from the game table approaches to sit on your other side. You strike up a polite conversation, more as something to distract you from your recent losses than anything else. You certainly have no intention of entertaining any extra notions he might have.

Din's already possessive instincts, however, are quickly ratcheting up into overdrive, and it takes you by surprise when his gloved hand suddenly appears on your upper thigh. It's a bold move for him, in public at least, and you can't deny that a slight shiver runs through your entire body at your armored warrior staking his claim in front of another man like this.

The Zabrak, to his credit, looks put off for a brief moment and then tries one last tactic. "What do you say to getting out of this place for a bit, huh? I can always bring you back before it gets too late. The city's beautiful this time of evening."

The hand on your thigh tightens its grip, making your own fingers convulsively curl around the edge of the bar as his dig into your soft flesh. His mere touch is driving you wild; it hits with sudden weight just how long it's been since he's touched you like this.

How utterly unfair that gleaming beskar helmet seems now.

At least HE can hide whatever is going on in his head.

When you gather yourself enough to reply, your voice, thank the Maker, is under control if nothing else. "You'd have to ask my escort," you hum, indicating the Mandalorian, whose focus is now trained on the unwelcome interloper with all the disintegrating intensity of his pulse rifle.

"I don't. Share."

It's his "Try me, pal, I know twenty different ways to kill you" voice, and the crazy part of you wants nothing more than for him to throw you down on this counter and --

Well, better stop that thought quick before it leaves your tongue.

The Zabrak gets the message and sulks away, leaving the pair of you in a tense, brittle quiet spell. His hand is still resting on you, fingers thoughtfully rubbing the crease where your thigh joins your hip.

"This is getting old," he mutters.

You roll your eyes. "Guys like him come to the cantinas to pick up ladies, Mando. It's not personal."

"They should know better."

"They're all dumb as shaaks, Cyare." You toss back the rest of your caf, grimacing now that it's gone cold. "It's not like I walk around wearing a sign that says 'Back off, I'm with Shiny'."

He doesn't answer, but is on his feet now, reaching for your hand. "Come on."

You frown. "Your contact?"

"Can wait. They've kept me waiting too long already. Outside. Now."

Dusk has fallen outside the cantina. The suns have disappeared and the breeze is starting to grow chilly. Shadows lay thick and indigo in the narrow alleyways, and you unconsciously rub your arms against the cooling air, wondering what could possibly have driven your partner to drag you out here.

"Can you see?" he questions.

You scoff. "Maybe. If I squint real hard."

"Good." There's a sharp metallic sound in the gloom, and then suddenly his mouth is attacking your neck, right underneath your jaw, and all your breath comes out in a low whine.

He's merciless, and you're defenseless in his grasp, only the fact that you're biting your tongue keeping you from gasping his real name out loud.

Finally he lets you breathe again, resting his forehead against yours so your noses touch.

"Jate, Mesh'la. You've never stayed so quiet before," he teases softly.

"You've never done that just outside a crowded cantina before!" you huff.

He kisses you, far too briefly, and replaces the helmet. "Think that'll do the trick?" he growls, running his thumb over the love bite he left behind.

It must be a good one, for how thorough he was.

"I imagine the message is clear." You lean into him, pretending for a moment that the hard edges of his beskar are gone and all you can feel is him.

"I'll finish the transaction as quickly as possible," he promises in your ear.

"Good. I might do something desperate if we're stuck in this scughole much longer." You pull away from his embrace.

"If you need something to take your mind off of...us, for a bit, go get your necklace back," he suggests. "That piece of scrap and the Nikto hut'uun were cheating. Slipped the droid a card under the table."

You bang your fist into the wall. "I knew it!"

"I know I technically got thrown out on my ass, but you gotta admit, it was a good end to that disaster." You sweep your hair out of the way and fasten your Jiang pendant around your throat again with satisfaction. Smacking the full bag of credits at your belt, you add, "And I brought income! I'm gonna buy some quality seafood at the next market we hit. The Kid will appreciate that, I'm sure."

Aside from noncommittal grunts of acknowledgement, Din is strangely quiet as you board the ship and prepare everything to take off in the morning. You're not sure exactly what's bothering him -- his deal went through and all seemed well, so it must be an internal problem he's solving. Determined not to let his change in attitude get to you, and knowing you'd ask too much of him for now if you hung around him, you escape to the cockpit and lounge in his chair, staring out at the thousands of stars that are beginning to glow in the darkness beyond.

What killed the mood?

You hear him approach eventually, hauling himself up the ladder behind you. Heavy footsteps ring through the small space as he arrives beside the chair, where he pauses.

"You should have at least turned around to check that it was me." Even the stern reproach sounds halfhearted. Something's eating at him.

"Who else would it have been, Din? The Kid wearing your armor?"

You take his silence as a concession of your point.

When it stretches on, however, you decide to try and make some conversation. Maker knows how long he'll just stand there staring out at the view otherwise. "She look good for takeoff tomorrow? Or do I need to give anything a once-over?" Maybe he's just waiting for his chair back and being too polite about it.

You rise and make to slip past him.

"How long have we been doing this?" he suddenly asks, a solid wall of beskar preventing you from getting anywhere.

"Hell, Din, I don't know. What even is 'this'?" You don't know where the sudden impatience has come from, aren't even sure if you and he are referring to the same thing.

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum," he murmurs, one of those multi-talented hands rising to tip your chin up towards his helmet. "That's all I know, ner'kar'ta. Whatever we are...I know that I love you. And have for however long we've been traveling this lonely way together."

You soften, letting him pull you to his chest, wrapping your arms around him. "I love you, Din Djarin. Have for a very long time. And will continue to do so for however long we are given."

There's a slight quiver to his hand now, betrayed as he presses his palm flat against your back. "I was...thinking, tonight."

You remain silent, waiting for him to go on.

"You know most of the story, Cyar'ika. How the Armorer told me I am dar'manda. Grogu has seen...has looked upon my face. Because I wanted him to know that we are...aliit."

"I know." Those had been long nights, the first few after your reunion, when the pain of excommunication was still a freshly bleeding wound. Those nights, kisses tasted like the salt of his silent tears, and more often than not he simply desired to be held by you, for someone who understood to remind him that all was not over. You will always remember those nights, when you wondered in terror if he would finally, truly fall apart if you ever let go.

"I am not bound by the creed until I am redeemed," he muses softly. "And I realized tonight...we are committed to each other. There is no reason for me to wonder if you will leave anymore, is there?"

You shake your head. "I've told you, my love. Even the stars themselves couldn't keep me from finding my way back to you."

He releases a long breath.

"Would you want to see me, if I were to show you?"

Your own breath seems to have met a hitch.

"Din...it's a dream of mine. I've always wanted to see all of you." You tentatively rest your fingertips against the cool surface of the helmet. "But only if you truly want to show me."

"I do, Mesh'la. I want us to finally see each other eye-to-eye. Even for just a moment."

You can only nod in answer. This moment is all at once too sacred and too sacrilegious for anything you could possibly think to say. So instead you draw back, waiting for him to move when he's ready.

His hand slowly pushes the helmet up and back, and for the very first time, you are actually gazing into the face of the man who captured your heart.

Finally, all of the small details you have discovered over time in the dark tie together. The rugged facial hair framing a broad jawline, the slope of his regal nose and the artful curves of his full lips. His hair, thick and tousled by the helmet, is a rich brown, streaked here and there with a strand of silver.

He's beautiful.

But those eyes.

His eyes are the one feature you've never been able to guess at. You have imagined them sparking with anger or softening with affection, but nothing could have prepared you for what lovely eyes they are. Darkest brown, endlessly deep, the eyes of a world-weary and yet somehow still hopeful man. Eyes that overflow with sensitivity and uncertainty, eyes that have unerringly marked a thousand targets for death.

Sharp, sad eyes, that now stare into yours as if seeking out a hidden truth that only you can give him.

He's beautiful.

"You're...crying," he notes with curiosity, a gentle gloved hand brushing the tears from your cheek.

"Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum, Din Djarin," you whisper, unable to look away from those spellbinding eyes. "Thank you, for letting me finally see you. I love you."

He kisses you, first your lips, then the shining tracks of your tears, ending on the same dark smudge where he marked you as his earlier.

"I've been wanting to, for a long time," he confesses quietly. "You have no idea how much I've struggled with it."

You stretch up to kiss his forehead, reveling in the fact that you have finally done so in the light. "I don't think I've ever loved you more."

He reaches around you, dims the lights in the cockpit until you're both shrouded in shadows again. "Well, I have an idea of how I can make it even better."

You smirk, pushing him down into the pilot's seat. "Oh? Do tell."

He pulls you forward so you're suddenly in his lap. "I haven't forgotten the way you were devouring me with your eyes back there, Mesh'la. I think you and I are long overdue for this."

"So long," you agree, settling into a comfortable position on top of him so you can begin the lengthy process of lovingly divesting him of his armor. Your yearning from earlier has returned in full force, coupled with the glowing intimacy of finally having set eyes on your lover's face.

"I need you, Din. And I'm going to make you pay for not letting me reciprocate in the alley."

"You still mad at me over that?" His raspy chuckle sounds close to your ear as his deft fingers undo the fastenings of your jacket.

"You know me, my hunter." You work his undershirt off, letting your hands trail down his chest and grinning at the startled catch in his throat. "I hold a grudge."

His hand snakes around to rest at the back of your neck, a tender gesture that also swiftly reminds you of his possessiveness and makes your heart skip.

"Well, then," and his voice goes smooth, "allow me to amend for my earlier actions."

You can almost imagine his eyes -- those dark, dark eyes -- sparkling with heated mischief.

"After all, you did behave so nicely for me. I think someone deserves a reward."

Jate = Good

Hut'uun = Coward

Ner'kar'ta = My heart

Dar'manda = Not Mandalorian

Aliit = Family/Clan

[cobbssecondbelt]

Do we realize that we just saw Din Djarin riding a droid into battle against bigger droids?

[dindjarindiaries]

Dincember 2024 - December 8: Love

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompt: Love

main masterlist • dincember masterlist

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆ ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙

It was a night like most others when Grogu heard the word "love" for the first time.

He had been mostly asleep in his father's arms inside their starfighter as the blue flickering lights of hyperspace passed them by. Grogu wasn't quite committed to sleeping yet, as tired as he was, because he still liked to take the time to enjoy the feeling of being back with his father again.

It had really been too long. Grogu hadn't been miserable with Jedi Master Luke, but that hadn't been home. This was home to him.

Grogu could tell that his father felt the same way, too. The Mandalorian had never held him this close before, nor for this long, and it was now a habit for them. Those same feelings also rang out through the Force, strong enough to penetrate his father's beskar—which was supposedly pretty Force-resistant.

Grogu could also hear it in his father's voice. He spoke even more softly to Grogu these days, just as he did in this very moment, when he thought Grogu was asleep.

"Hey, pal. I know you're asleep, but..."

The Mandalorian hesitated. Grogu could tell that whatever he was about to say was too important, so Grogu didn't have the heart to reveal that he was actually awake. He wanted to hear whatever was gonna come next.

"I just want you to know..."

Another hesitation. Grogu fought the urge to whimper. It was so rare for his father to hesitate, and in this case, he didn't even think Grogu was awake. What was so important that his father couldn't even say it out loud?

"I love you, buddy." There was a tap on his back after that. "And I won't let anything force us apart again."

Love. What was that? Grogu had never really heard that word, other than some of his youngling friends in the Temple growing up saying that about their meals, teachers, and even their training sabers, but... this felt like something more.

Grogu began to understand it the moment he felt the cool metal of his father's helmet pressing against his head.

It was that warm feeling Grogu got whenever his father was close. It was the reason why his hand gravitated to the Mandalorian's so often, and why his father would hold it between two of his fingers. It was the pull Grogu felt back to his father, and the reason why he had left Jedi training behind.

Because Grogu loved his father, too, even if he couldn't tell him that with his words yet.

So, Grogu resolved to burrow himself even further into the warm protection of his father's embrace, nuzzling his cheek into the Mandalorian's cowl as if to say I love you, too.