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davnittbraes · 2 years ago

Text

The Fourth Step - Chapter Thirty-Two

Part of The World Is Light, Embodied.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5700

Warnings, etc.: tooth-rotting fluffy banter, these two are ridiculous, a tender moment that punched me right in the feels when I wrote it, oh and smutty smut smut, classic P in the V, oral f!receiving, probably unrealistically high standard of pussy eating but what are we here for if not to live vicariously through fictional characters, kinda roughish sex

Notes: Lol well. It’s definitely not still Saturday in my part of the world but it’s still Saturday somewhere so let’s just say this update is on time, shall we?

Mando’a translations at the end of the chapter.

Please check out the Series Masterlist page for more info.

“You think he’s going to regret it in the morning?”

“No.” A pause, a huff of amusement through the modulator. “Greef’s love of showing off outranks any remorse for spending credits.”

The hotel room - the one Greef had insisted on paying for as a reward for you putting that Weequay in his place - is a single room but spacious, with a decent-sized refresher. You’re already looking forward to a long, hot shower in the morning, but the thing you’re excited about most sits along the far wall, under a large window over looking the lava flats.

Since joining Din and the kid, sleeping in an actual bed is a rare enough occurrence that your muscles twitch with the memory of a mattress underneath you as soon as your gaze lands on the bed.

Not that you’re complaining. Nothing could make you give up the feel of a warm, broad Mandalorian under your shared blankets.

But if those shared blankets happened to be on top of an actual bed, well. Even better.

Shucking your jacket, you toss it over a nearby sitting chair, toe off your boots and move straight to the bed.

The mattress is giving, plush under your limbs. You settle back against the headboard and close your eyes with a sigh, letting your legs stretch out, muscles loosening as the pillows behind you form around your lower back. The blankets are smooth and soft, some kind of fine-woven cloth, slightly cool to the touch. Your fingertips idly trace the folds where they wrinkle around your body.

Kriff, yes. It’s perfection, it’s bliss, it’s…

Emptier than you’d prefer at the moment.

Opening your eyes again, you watch Din finish tucking the kid into his pod - the little dude had passed out on the walk from the cantina, tired after a rude awakening in the early morning and a day of socializing. A gentle nudge sends the pod drifting into the closet, leaving the two of you alone.

Your throat is suddenly dry, and you reach for the bottle of Savareen you’d set on the table, taking a sip. There’s only a few mouthfuls left, most of what you’d taken back to the table had been shared with Greef and Cara.

The walk had sobered you up, cool, fresh night air filling your lungs and clearing your mind. Which was good, because you’re already slightly dizzy with the arousal that’s been pulsing between your thighs for the past couple hours.

Tension has been palpable between you and Din since the cantina, simmering beneath the surface, warming your skin, pooling under the place where he had gripped your thigh. You can still feel it, the imprint of his hand tingling with the rhythm of steadily building need.

The helmet tilts to look at you, beskar glinting in the dim lamplight, black visor cutting through bright silver to shaded grey where shadows fall across it.

He’s all light and dark, layers and contrasts. Strength and power and compassion and insightfulness.

Your love for him squeezes your chest tight.

The feeling grows, flares out through your body, curving your mouth into a smile. “You’re pretty.”

His soft huff of laughter echoes the whisper of his cowl as he pulls it off, draping it over your jacket. “That’s the namana talking.”

“Namana doesn’t affect how you feel, just loosens your tongue. I think you’re pretty all the time, I just don’t say it - don’t want to tarnish that whole stoic and aloof warrior thing you’ve got going on.”

He hums doubtfully, setting his gloves on the table and starting to pull off his boots.

You tilt your head to let your gaze drift over his form, long legs and strong thighs flexing with his motions. “I thought you were the Most Observant Man in the Galaxy. How have you not noticed me ogling you constantly?”

“‘Ogling?’” He pauses taking off his bandolier to look at you.

“Yeah, ogling. You’re very oglable.”

“‘Oglable’ is not a word.” His voice shakes with restrained laughter.

Your smile shifts into a grin, giddiness catching. “It is now. Definition: you.”

The modulator crackles with his chuckle as he takes off his belt, leaving his tall, broad frame clad in his armour. He approaches the bed, and you scoot over to make room, immediately scooting back to settle against the line of his body.

That tension buzzes, pulling you closer. The promise of something hovers on the air, and you’re hyperaware of everything, the way the mattress cups your body, the feel of his warm and solid pressed against you.

Even though he’s still in armour, the little signs of his trust in you are right there - in the curve of his neck and shoulders, no longer buried under his cowl. In the golden skin of his hands, unbound by leather. In the graceful arch of his feet, only covered by black socks -

Pfassk. You’re mooning over his socks.

You’ve really got it bad for him.

He reaches for the bottle of Savareen, lifting it up to the light and swirling gently, voice low and thoughtful. “What makes the gold flakes? I don’t think I’ve seen that before.”

“Most Observant Man, indeed.” You point to the gold wax seal imprinted with three berries. “Namana berries have a protein string that crystallizes when boiled to a certain temperature. That’s why I chose to distill with the berries - the Namana Effect was just a selling feature.”

Your fingertip traces the edge of the seal. “I thought it was fascinating, that something so small to our world perspective can be so beautiful.”

His free hand cups your cheek, turns your gaze toward him. The warmth of his palm on delicate skin makes your eyelids flutter, and the tension grows, the throb in your core making your hips shift.

You hold your breath.

He doesn’t move. Just looks at you, silently.

You raise an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

“Ogling you.”

Laughter bubbles in your chest. “No wonder the kid is such a menace, with the King of Snark as a role model.”

“I thought I was the Most Observant Man in the Galaxy.” His thumb traces the outline of your bottom lip, curved up in a grin.

“You hold both titles.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.”

Nodding in mock sympathy, you gesture toward the bottle. “It does. Did you want to relax with a drink?”

“I guess I could find the time in my busy schedule.”

He takes the bottle as you shift around on the bed until you’re sitting back to back, a position you’ve found yourself in a few times now, since that night on Pax when you shared the stars with Din. A deep sense of humility dips low in your stomach every time, knowing he trusts you not to look.

There’s the sound of a gentle splash of liquid and then a pleased hum against your back. “That’s very good.”

You can’t help but preen a bit under the praise. “Thank you. One of the batches I’m most proud of, to be honest. Despite the fact Tanzinthe’s friend almost killed us while making it.”

“The one who forgot to open the pressure valve?”

His hand appears beside you, offering the bottle, but all you can do is blink at it in surprise. You’d mention that only once in his presence, while speaking with Tedha about Tanzinthe. “You remember that?”

“Of course. It was an important event in your life.” He pauses while you take the bottle, turning his hand to run his fingertips along the inside of your wrist in a subtle caress. “Savareen is important to you. I’d like to know more about your life there, if you’re comfortable telling me.”

You swallow back your snort of amusement with a mouthful of brandy. “It wasn’t that interesting. The whole valve incident was probably the most exciting part.”

“Everything about you interests me.” He shifts, pressing tighter to your back. “I love learning how you see the world around you.”

Dank farrik.

The sincerity and affection in his voice is doing all kinds of pleasant things to that throb between your thighs.

You shake your head once, trying to clear the haze that’s already creeping over your thoughts. “You’re gonna give a girl an ego if you keep on like that.”

He moves away and the sudden rush of cool air at your back makes you shiver, long for his warmth again, but he slips behind you again almost immediately, taking the bottle of Savareen and setting it to the side before wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you into the curve of his body.

You let him mould you how he wants, closing your eyes and sighing in contentment as his hands slip beneath to hem of your shirt, glide over your bare skin, cross your stomach to curl over your ribs.

His lips press to the top of your head, voice dropping to a rasping murmur. “I also love watching you stand up for yourself. Put people who doubt you in their place. You get this… fire, in your eyes.”

His thumbs brush the undersides of your breasts, and you can feel his lips curl into a smile when your back instinctively arches into the touch. “Like a warrior goddess.”

You open your eyes and stare blankly at the opposite wall, heartbeat stuttering with a mixture of surprise and amusement. “‘Warrior goddess?’”

He hums in confirmation. “That’s what I thought, on Bakura.”

“You - what?” Confusion ripples across the surface of the growing haze of arousal.

“When I first saw you.” He slowly drags his hands down the curve of your waist, pulling goosebumps as he goes. “Holding your blaster with confidence. The kind that comes from using it to save your own life countless times.”

Your breath catches, hips rolling with the glide of his hands across your stomach to the tops of your thighs. Need pools hot in your core, pushes your heartbeat faster. It’s hard to focus already, you struggle to concentrate on his voice with your body singing for his touch.

“Speaking with the kid - not to him, with him. Like the person he is. Not a pet, or a creature, as others treat him.” Din presses another gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You were so beautiful, standing there on that mountain. Glowing in the sunlight. Strong and fierce yet kind, gentle. A powerful contradiction.”

He slides his hands down, skimming the inside of your thighs, and your legs fall open with barely a press of his fingertips. “For a moment, I thought you were magical, like a goddess from myth. And I wanted to get on my knees and worship you.”

You bite your lip against a whimper as one of his hands slides over your thigh, grasping the place where the Weequay’s had been.

His voice dips low, reverberating in his chest behind you. “Can I do that now, mesh’la? Get on my knees for you?” He slides his other hand along your inner thigh, cups your cunt through your clothes. “Worship this perfect pussy, make you come in my mouth?”

Crikking hells -

Your thoughts blank, white noise fills your ears.

Pfassk, yes.

The raspy chuckle against your back makes you pause - oh, you’d said that out loud.

Then he’s moving, the bed shifts as he stands. You turn your face away and press your palms to your eyes just in case, a slight tremor running through your hands.

You’re literally shaking with want - your underwear is damp, your thighs squeezing rhythmically, clit throbbing for friction.

Only Din could get you this kriffing worked up.

You hear the click of the lights turning off, and pull your hands away, blinking at the near-pitch black of the room, ears pricking with the soft sounds of his movements. The shuffle of motion is so quiet you can’t discern what he’s doing, beyond the metallic clink of his helmet being set on the table.

Always the silent, stealthy bounty hunter, even safe and sound in the dark of a private hotel room.

Fingers brush your shoulder, a wordless communication, him telling you where he is before his hands guide you to turn, gently pull your legs over the side until your feet touch the floor, glide up your thighs and rest on your hips.

His voice is so soft, floating to you through the dark from just in front of you - he’s kneeling at the side of the bed. “Lay back for me, kar’ta.”

The gentle note of command in his words shoots straight to your core, and you’re suddenly struck with the need to touch him, a wild desperation to feel him swarming through your veins. You reach out, hand finding the cool metal of his breastplate and sliding up to cup his jaw as you lean forward to kiss him.

He indulges you, his lips moving sweetly over yours, until a thrill runs down your spine and you moan into his mouth, tug at the edge of his breastplate in a silent plea for him to pull himself over you, let you feel his weight and warmth and -

A hand presses gently over your collarbone as he pulls back.

Right. Lay down.

You let him push you back until you’re flush with the bed, sinking into the soft blankets. He grasps your hips, shifts them forward a bit, moving your body to where he wants it, then hooks his fingers into the waistband of your leggings and underwear and tugs, a pleased sound floating through the dark when you lift to help.

The air of the room swirls over your skin as it’s bared, and a whimper slips from your lips when his hands glide back up your legs, fingers dipping into the curve of your knees before pressing them apart.

Your cunt clenches at the rush of air over heated slick.

Pfassk, you’re so wet already and he’s barely even touched you.

Anticipation flutters your heartbeat, sending arousal racing through your veins. The moment stretches out, expands and contracts to just the feel of his hands cupping your thighs, the throb of your pulse in your ears.

Another rustle of movement and then lips press softly to the inside of your knee.

Your muscles twitch, jump under the skin at the sensation but his grip tightens, holding you firmly in place as he trails barely-there kisses up the inside of your thigh. A pause, you stop breathing, feeling the whisper of his mouth right there, hovering above your aching clit -

Then he’s moving to your other thigh, mirroring the path he just took down, away from where you want him most.

A whimper squeezes from your throat, hips arching, seeking relief for your throbbing pussy, and he rests a hand on your lower stomach, thumb brushing just above your clit and kriff that feels good, the warm weight of his palm seeping into your skin and muscle, amplifying the heat swirling in your core.

Your fingers are fisting in the blankets at your sides, so tight it hurts. You can’t take it, you need him to touch you before you crack. “Din -“

He nips the inside of your thigh as his thumb swipes low, grazing your clit, sending sparks of pleasure webbing across your hips. “Relax, tionas.”

“Can’t.” Your voice is strained, words trembling with want, growing shaky as he kisses a path up your thigh again. “Been wanting you for hours.”

His hum of approval vibrates along the crease of your thigh. “Since I put my hand on you at the cantina.”

You choke back a gasp as he shifts his grip on your thigh to where it was under the table. “Y-yes.”

“I know.” He shifts, kissing the skin in the curve of his thumb on your thigh. “I saw it in your eyes.”

Your pussy throbs, a rush of heat flooding your core at the thought of him being able to see your arousal in your gaze. Pfassk, why was that so hot? The knowledge that he could tell you wanted him with just a look?

His tongue flicks out, trails up your thigh, and you whine as once again he passes over your aching cunt. “I wanted you, too. Couldn’t wait to get you alone so I could bury my tongue in your pussy.”

You can’t handle it anymore, your thoughts so hazy with arousal it’s dizzying, the throb in your core a steady beat that matches your racing heart.

It feels like you’re still drunk, floating, giddy with need, and a shaky laugh bursts from your chest. “Taking your kriffing time now, though.”

His answering huff of laughter is cut short as he slots his open mouth over your entire cunt and thrusts his tongue through your slick folds.

Crikking hells -

Pleasure arches your back off the bed, your head digging into the blankets, clapping your hand over your mouth to muffle your cry, some semblance of logical thought reminding you that the kid was sleeping nearby before it evaporates into the thrum of want.

Your thighs tremble as the hot, wet muscle swipes over your entrance, dips inside, buzzes with his moan when the taste of you floods his tongue.

Yes so good -

He laves a wide stripe up to your clit and licks it into his mouth, lips closing around it to suck -

Oh kriff yes -

His hands press your thighs open as they clench with the rush of pleasure, his tongue lashing over your clit while his lips press and pull -

You’re mumbling into the palm of your hand, senseless sounds that are half pleas for more and half curse words. Heat builds in your core, shudders through your body, rolls your hips to press your cunt tighter to that incredible mouth.

He pushes your thighs wider, spreads you open, effectively pinning your hips down as he picks up the pace, suckling at your clit in exactly the way that will pull an orgasm from you in minutes.

Pfassk -

Pleasure spirals up and out, prickling over your skin, pulling your nipples tight so with each gasping breath they grind against the cloth of your bra, adding tiny sparks to the fire that’s threatening to burst free.

You can feel it, the edge he’s dragging you toward, already so close after hours of wanting him and now right there with the perfect pressure of his lips and tongue.

He’s relentless, unfaltering, and your orgasm looms, bright and fierce, then he sucks hard and his teeth scrap over the hood of your clit and -

You’re falling -

Sobbing into your hand, body trembling with waves of pleasure -

So good so good don’t stop please -

His tongue keeps at your clit while his hands hold your hips tight to the bed until -

A sharp cry shoves from your chest as pleasure instantly shifts to overstimulation, your entire body curling into itself at the change, reeling from the sudden drop.

He immediately pulls away, hands releasing their grip on your thighs. Your body shivers with one last wave then you sink limply into the blankets, hand falling away from your mouth, your harsh gasp of breath and the sharp ache of your lungs the only way you know you had stopped breathing for a moment.

Slowly, your awareness falls back into place, focus drawn to the soothing caress of his hands, sweeping up and down your thighs. You pass a hand over your face, take a deep breath to pull yourself together as best you can with pleasure still fogging your thoughts, and reach for one of his hands.

He twines his fingers through yours, kisses them gently, his lips warm and damp with your pleasure.

That one sensation is enough to send a fresh wave of want to your core, and you tug on his hand, silently asking for him to join you on the bed, your words still tied up in the pleasure haze.

But he resists, lips curving in a smile as he kisses your fingers again. “Oh, I’m not done with you. That first one was just to silence that tongue of yours.”

Crikking hells.

He nuzzles into the crease of your thigh, and your hips twitch as his breath fans out over your sensitive cunt. “I said I wanted to worship this pussy. And I will.”

Your answering whimper cracks with need, shifting to a moan when he presses an open-mouthed kiss to your cunt.

Pleasure swirls in your core, rising gently, a sharp contrast to the rapid build of your last orgasm. He lavishes kisses over your slick folds, tongue dipping into your entrance occasionally, flicking over your clit softly.

It’s almost overwhelming, the tender caresses and soft kisses to such a vulnerable part of your body, the care he takes in finding all those places he knows pull your pleasure higher.

His free hand never stills, gliding along any part of you he can reach, curling around your calve and tracing the curve of your hip and slipping under your shirt to cup your breasts.

There’s a throb in the very centre of your being, the need for him so poignant it almost hurts in its intensity.

You get lost in it, thoughts scattering, pleasure rising in gentle swells and focus pulling into one singular point -

Him.

Din.

His name echoes in your ears - you said it out loud, your voice high-pitched, wrecked.

It expands your awareness again and you realize you’re writhing on the bed, blankets twisting beneath you as your hips arch into the wet heat of his tongue, gliding over your cunt.

He moves with you, let’s you chase your pleasure as you want, your free hand tangled in his hair, rocking your pussy along the flat of his tongue over and over, and pfassk it feels so kriffing good -

You can feel it, pleasure beckoning your body toward a second drop, but it’s big, it’s been building for too long and now it’s so high you can’t -

His grip on your hand, squeezing once.

It’s ok. Let go.

He’s got you.

Another roll of your hips and your clit throbs as it grinds against his tongue.

Right there right there yes -

Again -

Oh pfassk -

Again -

White hot heat -

Pleasure breaks, every muscle pulls tight -

You’re flying and falling and twisting into a ball of shivering flesh, curled over into yourself, hand in his hair pushing him against your pulsing cunt and his mouth closes over it, tongue pressed along the length of your folds and it’s incredible, soft wet warmth that engulfs your pussy as your orgasm finally releases you.

Air rushes into your lungs and you fall back onto the bed, gasping desperate mouthfuls, shaky. Lights flash in the corners of your eyes, not really there, results of the ferocity of your orgasm.

Your core pulses with aftershocks and he moans, tongue vibrating against your cunt, sending another shudder through your body at the sharp jab of pleasure-pain.

He pulls away carefully, swallowing thickly, resting his forehead on your lower stomach. “Fuck, you feel so good, coming on my tongue like that.”

You loosen your grip on his curls, comb your fingers through them. Words still struggle to find their way to your mouth, so all you do is hum in agreement, hope he knows what you mean.

His lips press to your skin, start to move down, but you tighten your fingers in his hair again, whining a wordless plea.

You need him.

Need to feel him on you, need to be filled with him.

He exhales sharply, an almost desperate sound, as if he’d heard your thoughts. A shift of movement and he’s climbing onto the bed beside you, finding your lips and capturing them in a deep kiss.

Your tongue floods with the sweet tang of your own pleasure, a moan that could be his or yours reverberating through your body.

Somehow you get your limbs back into working order, hands trembling with exertion as they wrap around his shoulders, haul him on top of you so quickly that he scrambles to bear his weight on his forearms, braced on either side of your head.

You sigh as he settles between your thighs, that desperation clawing in your chest easing with the feel of him pressing you into the mattress, the familiar chill of his breastplate seeping through your shirt.

He pulls back, breath stuttering. “Tell me what you want, mesh’la.”

Your hazy thoughts flicker through words, struggling to say what you’re feeling. “I want - no, don’t want - need, I need you, I need you.”

An instinctual roll of your hips brings your bare cunt against his cloth-covered cock, hard length pressing tight to his flightsuit, and he groans deep, arching into your movement to grind into your wet heat.

His lips are back on yours instantly, pulling a choked moan from your chest as he shifts his weight onto one arm, reaching down between you. There’s a rustle of cloth and then the smooth head of his cock is gliding through your slick, notching into the cup of your entrance, pressing in -

Crikking hells -

Your thighs tremble at the stretch, pfassk it’s always so much -

He sinks deeper, the shove of his cock against your inner walls sending a ripple of pleasure through your body and you cry out -

His mouth smothers the sound, tongue licking between your lips as he bottoms out.

Yes -

So full -

He shifts, pulling back, dragging his cock from the wet clutch of your cunt before thrusting back in with the same achingly slow pace, pressing into every single spot of pleasure along your inner walls and your eyes roll back, your hands grasp his arms tight, already swept up in the wave of growing orgasm.

His movements falter as your cunt flutters around his cock. “Fuck, you feel so good, pussy squeezing so tight -“

You gasp as he thrusts in again, filling you so perfectly, and you want to say it but your thoughts are thick and swollen with pleasure, you can’t -

“Tell me, kar’ta. Tell me how I make you feel, I need to hear it, please.”

His words cut through the haze - yes, you’ll do anything, anything he asks of you.

Lifting a hand from his arm to cup his face, you push the words past your lips. “You make me feel so good, Din, I love how you make me feel, your tongue and your mouth and your hands and your cock -“

Your voice cuts off as he thrusts deep, pushing against some spot inside you that erupts in pleasure so intense it borders on pain and your pussy spasms in response, squeezes your walls tight.

He shudders above you. “Fuck, feel it -“

Another thrust and your back arches with the burst of pleasure-pain. “Oh pfassk - Din -“

“Yes, love, right there, I know -“ his hand pulls yours away from his face, presses it flat to the bed, threads his fingers through yours. “Want to make you feel good, always.”

He starts a pace that blinds you with pleasure, thick of his cock spearing deep over and over, knocking against that spot each time and you bite your lip to hold back the cry that threatens to break free, teeth digging so hard it hurts.

Again and again -

Crikking hells you’re gonna come -

You release your bottom lip with a sob, pleasure burning through your veins and it’s too much and you never want it to end.

Tell him tell him want him to know -

Know what he does to you, what he’s doing to you now.

Your voice shakes with the motion of his thrusts. “It’s so good, Din, so perfect, you make me feel this way, only you -“

“Fuck.”

The word drops in a growl and suddenly he’s moving, leaning back, a hand grabbing your thigh and pushing it up, pressing it to your chest.

He pulls out, almost all the way, until just the head of his cock rests inside your snug entrance.

Then he thrusts back in and you lose yourself.

Bright hot pleasure -

His cock hits that spot straight on, the angle driving him so deep inside you.

He lets go of your hand, covers your mouth with his, muffling the wail that you didn’t realize was squeezing past your throat.

Again his cock drags from your cunt and again he shoves deep -

Over and over and over -

Pleasure explodes and wet heat floods yours core and your blindsided, reeling, crying out against his palm as it rips through your body.

Slick sounds fill your ears and he groans low in his chest. “Yes come for me just like that -“

His hips stutter as your pussy clenches hard, again and again, gripping his cock greedily, sucking him back in so hard the shape of him might be imprinted on your inner walls.

Crikking hells so good -

You can’t breathe, body frozen in pleasure, pulled tight -

Finally there’s the drop -

He growls with each thrust again and again and then he’s groaning long and low, cock throbbing in release, movements faltering as your fluttering walls milk his pleasure.

A pause, stillness, only sound is the mingling of your panting breaths.

Then he gently eases your thigh back down, and his lips find yours in the dark.

A sweet kiss, soft. Such a contrast to the passion of just a moment ago.

You love everything about it.

He sighs into your mouth, pressing a final kiss to it before pulling back. “Are you alright?”

You realize you’re shaking, tremors wracking your body, teeth chattering with the force of them. But there’s no pain, only the thrum of spent pleasure. “Yeah. That was just… a lot. Good, but a lot.”

Your core pulses with an aftershock and his huff of laughter shifts into a grunt. He carefully pulls his cock from your cunt, chasing your mewl of disappointment with a kiss. “Agreed.”

Exhaustion is starting to creep into your muscles, overworked with pleasure. The softness of the bed beneath your body tempts you with sleep, and Din obviously feels the call, too, hauling himself up and padding over to the refresher.

It’s a quick clean up with the warm washcloth he brings to you, then you’re pulling your shirt off and tossing it on the floor before settling back onto the bed, listening to him removing his armour and set it on the bedside table.

A thought flickers across your still-hazy thoughts. You didn’t think he would take his armour off here - sure, he removes it on the Razor Crest but that’s his home, where he feels safe. He’s never taken it off anywhere else.

Your focus shifts, all rumination on his habits disappearing as he slides under the blankets next to you. He’s still wearing his underlayer, but that’s more than enough to satisfy your need to feel close to him right now.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulls you back against his chest. You wriggle backward to press yourself deeper into his embrace, breathing deep as his warmth swarms over your skin, tucking you into the safe cocoon that is his arms.

He presses a line of kisses along your shoulder, into the curve of your neck, behind your ear, his hand wandering down your waist to rest on your thigh.

Over the exact place where the Weequay’s had been.

A curl of anxiety turns your stomach.

All the talk of him making you feel good, his strong reaction when you said only he could make you feel like that…

Like he was trying to prove that you wanted him.

Kriff. The Weequay.

Of course Din wouldn’t want you to go around letting strangers touch you so intimately. He’d probably been upset with you - stupid girl, why did you -

Stop.

You shove the thought away before it starts to spiral out of control.

Talk to him.

Gently, you lay your hand over his on your thigh, forcing the words out. “Were you… did I upset you, letting him touch me?”

A pause, he stills behind you.

Pfassk, that’s great, so you did upset him -

“I was angry that he spoke to you that way.” His voice is steady, weighing his words as if talking through complex emotions. “And proud of how clever you were. But no, I wasn’t upset.”

Ok he wasn’t upset but he was angry.

Anger that could have come from -

You chew your bottom lip, but push yourself to give voice to that worrisome thought scratching at the back of your mind. “Are you sure you weren’t… I don’t know, jealous or something?”

Another pause, a longer moment of silence. Anxiety bubbles up again and you swallow it back down.

He’s not mad at you for asking. He’s just figuring out how to answer.

Finally, he shifts, tugging at your thigh to guide you onto your back, one arm curling under your head and the other around your waist. His lips find yours, pressing a firm but tender kiss full of so much emotion that it pulls a whimper from your throat.

His words fall softly against your skin. “I didn’t like seeing his hand on you, but only because I hate the thought of anyone touching you if you don’t want them to. You’ve been forced to bear that too often in your life.”

The hand on your waist slips around to your back, calloused fingertips tracing the scars cross-crossing your skin.

Emotion swells in your chest, tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You cup his face in your hands, try to silently convey everything you can’t say.

He rests his forehead against yours. “I’m not jealous because jealousy implies ownership. And I don’t own you. No one does, and no one ever will.”

Tears threaten to spill and you blink them back, swallow hard against the lump in your throat to force the words that lift straight from your soul. “You may not own me, Din, but I’m yours.”

A soft exhale of breath, a barely-there brush of lips. “As I am yours, tionas.”

***** Mando’a translations

mesh’la - beautiful

tionas - question

cyar’ika - sweetheart

kar’ta - heart

***** Previous Chapter Next Chapter

#the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x female reader #mando x f!reader #mando x you #reader insert #no y/n #the world is light embodied #TWILE

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davnittbraes · 2 years ago

Text

The Fourth Step - Chapter Thirty-Three

Part of The World Is Light, Embodied.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3100

Warnings, etc.: Grogu being adorable, domestic moments, introspection, a hint of smuttiness, silly silly banter, Greef gets annoyed, Cara gets sassy, probably too much description of tree-dwelling creatures habits but I did a ridiculous amount of research for it so you all have to suffer, a little twist of anxiety at the end I’m sorry

Notes: Look! A wild plot appears!

Mando’a translations at the end of the chapter.

Please check out the Series Masterlist page for more info.

It’s a funny sort of feeling, buzzing low behind your ribcage, an excitement mixed with anticipation that threatens to bubble up and out in a burst of laughter. You haven’t felt it in a long time, but you remember what it is - it’s the same sensation you felt each time you hopped off a transport and took the first step onto the soil of a new planet.

That feeling of shaking off an identity and becoming someone new.

The only difference is this time, that almost-laughter isn’t layered with anxiety, trepidation. Fear of being recognized as who you once were, ripped out of the life you chose and forced back into the one you were born into with no one to fight for you if you found yourself helpless.

Because this time, you have someone who would care.

This time, you have someone who would fight.

As I am yours, tionas.

You smile as the words float across your thoughts, directing it at the kid so the people around you don’t think you’re grinning to yourself like a madwoman. The Nevarro market is busy at this time of morning, people rushing off to work or running errands before tackling the other tasks of the day.

The little guy quirks his ears at you, obviously curious as to why you’re in such a great mood.

Flashes of memory, moments from the night before - hot, slick glide of a tongue, grip of a hand pinning your thigh in place as his cock pressed so deep -

Yeah, not going to explain this one to the kid any time soon.

You throw him a wink then turn your attention to the line of food vendors. “What do you want for breakfast, kiddo? Something quick, we’ve still got to stock up on some rations and then meet your dad at Greef’s so we can be ready to go when that contact of his checks in.”

The kid coos happily, big eyes turning to the selection of vendors.

Your nose twitches at the scent of roasted meat, and your gaze follows it instinctively, squinting at the last stall. “I think they’ve even got some poor creatures for you to munch on, my adorable little Sarlaac pit. Come on.”

“Can he actually understand you?”

The voice coming from your left sets your heartbeat racing, your hand automatically pushing the kid’s pod behind you until your thoughts catch up - Cara Dune.

That warm, dark gaze meets yours with an apologetic smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. I figured you saw me coming.”

At one point in your life you would have been embarrassed, maybe even angry, at being caught off guard. But her guilt is so genuine, not a trace of accusation or judgement on her face.

So you return her smile, waving a hand in dismissal. “No apology necessary. I’m the one walking around with my head in the clouds today.”

“Well, you did sling back quite a bit of that brandy last night.” Cara’s smile turns crooked, teasing.

“Surprisingly, I’m unaffected.” You nudge the kid’s pod closer to her as he babbles in greeting, lifting a tiny clawed hand that she squeezes lightly. “Must have been sleeping in a real bed, for once.”

“There’s no bed on the Razor Crest?”

“Well, there’s a bunk, but it’s not big enough for the two of us.”

Her gaze sharpens, gleams with delight. “So it’s like that, huh?”

Nervousness twists your stomach, seeing that look in her eyes. “Like what?”

“Like you’re ‘sharing a bed every night’ kinda what.” She teases, her smile reassuring, making sure you know it’s all in good fun. “I knew you and Mando had something going on, that’s obvious to anyone who’s in the same room as the two of you for more than five minutes, what with all the pining glances and sexual tension so thick I could cut it with a knife.”

You almost choke on the sudden rush of embarrassment. “We - kriff, we don’t, do we -“

“Oh come on, you guys are like a couple of hormone-riddled teenagers. You think you’re being sneaky with the under the table touching?”

“Crikking hells.” You run a hand over your face, sighing.

“Easy, I’m just teasing you.” She laughs, reaching out the grasp your arm consolingly, her voice warming with sincerity. “Honestly, I’m happy that Mando found you. He’s a good man who’s been through more than most people. He deserves someone who cares about him like you do. And you deserve him, too.”

Your embarrassment fades with her words, a sort of profound feeling replacement it. For one of Din’s closest friends to say that… “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

The kid babbles, standing up in his pod, hands outstretched toward the meat stall and you grab him before he loses his balance and tips over the side. “Ok, ok, calm down, we’ll get you food.”

Cara chuckles, sliding into step beside you as you make your way toward the stall. “So, can he actually understand you? I’ve always thought he knows more than he lets on.”

“Oh, I’m positive he does. I mean, he’s still a child so he doesn’t grasp everything.” You shuffle the kid in your arms as you approach the stall so he can get a look at the display. “But he’s smart. Too smart, sometimes - hard to get things past him.”

The kid reaches for a slab of meat on a stick that’s almost twice his size and you pull him back, directing his gaze to the row of much more reasonably-sized kebabs. “How about something that’s less likely to upset your stomach later? We’re flying out today.”

He grumbles in discontent, but points to the largest kebab. You smile and nod at the vendor, who moves to wrap it up. “A compromise we can both live with.”

*****

The kebab is long gone by the time you get to Greef’s, even though it takes less than half an hour to find the supplies you need and get to the magistrate’s office. Cara keeps you company, asking about what you and Din had been up to since the last time you were on Nevarro - never prying for details, seemingly satisfied with whatever you choose to tell her.

That feeling of something new grows stronger.

Your steps are light as you walk into the front door of Greef’s office.

Maybe something new includes close friends, as well as your aliit.

The reception area is empty as you enter, but a familiar flash of silver coming through the door to Greef’s office sets your heartbeat fluttering.

Din stops, helmet tilting toward Cara in greeting before the black visor turns to you. There’s a strange little pause then he speaks, voice carrying a hint of strain through the modulator.

“Tionas. I need to speak with you.”

Concern tightens your shoulders. What happened? Is it something Greef’s contact said?

Cara curls her fingers around the edge of the kid’s pod, tugging it behind her as she starts toward Greef’s office. “We’ll be in here when you’re done.”

Din moves to a door on the opposite side of the room, stride eating up the distance and you hurry to join him.

Panic starts to swirl hot in your stomach, your gaze fixed unseeing on his back. “What’s wrong?”

He turns around, reaches over your shoulder and keys the door shut. “Nothing.”

You blink, panic shifting to bewilderment. “Then why - wait, are we in a ‘fresher?”

“Yes.”

The light flicks off and you blink again, this time into utter darkness. “Din, what is going on? Did Greef’s contact check in? Why are we -“

Your words are cut off by the press of soft lips to yours, a gloved hand slipping around the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepens the kiss, his hum of approval mingling with the whimper that slips past your throat.

The taste and feel and scent of Din overwhelm your senses and you grasp the edge of his breastplate, pulling him impossibly closer. He obeys your silent plea, one step bringing his body flush with yours, another pressing you back against the ‘fresher door, then a shift and -

Oh kriff -

You break the kiss with a gasp, breath stuttering as his thigh slips between yours and the steel of his armour presses to your core, cold seeping through your leggings and underwear.

He takes advantage of the break, lips trailing along your jaw, dipping into the curve of your neck, his hand guiding your head back even more to bare your skin to his mouth.

A spark of arousal shoots through your body as his teeth graze your pulse, the urge to roll your hips, grind your cunt against the hard thigh between your legs almost impossible to ignore. It would be so easy, just a nudge and your clit would find that pressure it’s beginning to ache for -

Pfassk, remember where you are.

His tongue flicks out to trace the line of your collarbone and you have to bite your lip to stop the moan that threatens to burst free, trying to pull your already-hazy thoughts together. “Din. Why are -“

He shifts his thigh, pressing it tighter against your core, and this time you can’t hold back the moan, bouncing off the walls of the small room, drawn out as his fingertips dig into the curve of your waist in response.

You’re burning up, his breath warm on tender skin, heat of arousal spiralling out from between your thighs and your hips rock with need and yes there -

The movement grinds your clit over his thigh plate, the seam of your underwear catching it just right and you do it again, body seeking -

“Mando?”

Greef’s voice floats through the closed door.

Dank farrik.

Din nips at your jaw, tip of his tongue laving over the spot immediately, sending shivers over your skin.

Footsteps, coming closer.

You thread your fingers into his hair, pulling gently. “Din, wait -“

His lips brush over your ear, voice rasping down your spine. “The door is locked.”

“That’s great, but he can still figure out we’re in here.” You keep your voice low, barely a whisper, ears pricked as the footsteps pass by the door.

“Mando? Where did you go?” Greef’s voice drifts away as he continues on, sound of his footsteps leading out of the reception area.

Din pulls your lips back to his, tongue a slick caress against your own that has your hips rolling again, your mewl swallowed up by the heat of his mouth. “Problem solved.”

Your head falls back against the door, panting breath filling the room. “Until he sends a search party out.”

“Then we still have a few more minutes.” The smile in his voice says he picked up on the wavering concern in yours.

Something about his insistent desire for you is thrilling, exhilarating, making laughter bubble up in your chest, shaky with need. “If we keep this up, I’ll leave this refresher looking like we did exactly what we’re doing in here right now. You at least have the helmet.”

His groan buzzes against your lips, hand on the back of your neck moving to grab your hip, pull you tighter to his thigh. “Is that supposed to deter me?”

“Crikking hells.” Your cunt clenches at his words, the pressure of his thigh against your clit, arousal rocketing up so fast you’re dizzy with it. “Cara is definitely going to say something about this.”

He sucks a kiss into the underside of your jaw. “Then I’ll tell her it’s your fault. So beautiful I couldn’t help myself.”

Pfassk. This man is almost too much.

Never enough.

You tilt your lips to find his, scraping his scalp with your fingernails as you kiss him deep, share your giddy laughter with him. “Did you steal that line from those HoloNet dramas you love?”

A pause, the sound of his thoughts turning almost audible. “Maybe. Would that make you the tempting seductress who turns my life upside down?”

Your gasp of surprise is muffled by another press of his lips. There’s no way he happened to guess a common plot point in those stories. “You just gave me so much ammunition for future banter, I hope you know that.”

A familiar soft coo drifts through the door, then Cara’s voice, muffled but obviously trying to convince the kid to go back into Greef’s office, fading as they leave the reception area again.

Arousal fades, awareness of the press of time and nearness of others dulling its edges.

Din sighs, and you comb your fingers through his hair soothingly, letting your own disappointment filter into your voice. “It seems the search party is out.”

“It seems so.” He kisses you a final time before pulling away, a soft shuffle of movement telling you he’s slipping the helmet back into place.

A quick once-over to pull your clothes back into place, then you’re following him out of the refresher and into the magistrate’s office.

Cara is holding the kid, chatting with Greef as you enter. Her dark gaze flickers over you, almost immediately glinting with amusement.

She clicks her tongue. “Hormone-riddled teenagers.”

You clear your throat, pretending not to hear her as the kid reaches for Din, babbling excitedly.

Greef glances up from his desk, brows drawn in the hint of a scowl. “Where did you two disappear to for so long? I received a transmission from my contact, I’ll pull it up on the holo.”

He keys the command into the holo console and an image pops up - a star system, cluster of planets around a single sun.

The coordinates flash in the corner of the display, and recognition skips your heartbeat. “The Pax system?”

Greef rests his hands on his hips. “My contact said they would send me the coordinates of the planet they had confirmed Mandalorian sightings on. I suppose a backwater system is the best place if you’re in hiding.”

Din takes a step toward the holo, black visor intent on the image. “An uninhabited planet on a backwater system is even better.”

Your gaze finds the dwarf planet you’d stayed on so long ago. “No, you don’t think… that’s almost too much of a coincidence.”

Cara looks between the two of you. “What’s special about this planet?”

Din shifts the kid into the crook of his arm. “We stayed there some time ago. Temperate climate, forests and canyons that would make excellent cover.”

She shrugs one shoulder. “Sounds ideal for laying low.”

You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “Sure, but it’s still an entire planet to search. Where do we start?”

The helmet turns to look at you, flashing in the light of the holo display. “Maybe your friends can help.”

“My friends - the tree-dwellers?” You raise an eyebrow. “They’re just animals. I don’t think I can walk up to them and ask if they’ve seen any excessively armoured two-legged creatures around lately.”

His huff of laughter filters through the modulator, drawing looks of surprise from Cara and Greef.

It takes you a moment to realize they’ve probably never heard him laugh before.

Warmth blooms in your chest.

One of the many marks you’ve made on each other.

Din reaches into one of the pouches on his belt and pulls out the durasteel splinter. “This might help.”

You hold out your hand as he drops it into your palm, some thought flickering at the edge of your mind. It sputters out, and you frown, reaching for it again, pulling the idea into the forefront, something is there, something about the durasteel splinter…

Your own voice startles you - so lost in thought you didn’t realize you’d started speaking. “Tree-dwellers like them typically have a home area they don’t like to stray far from. The more solitary breeds tend to have a wider range, but these guys live in packs. I’d say they have a den somewhere, probably a permanent one, and they wouldn’t go far from it, maybe less than ten kilometres. So that means the one I pulled this splinter from picked it up somewhere within a ten kilometre radius from where we were.”

Looking at the holo, you reach over and key in the command to enlarge the dwarf planet, gaze pinpointing the forest where you had stayed, darting over the surrounding area, catching on the canyon you’d come across during your brief solo exploration.

You point to the jagged image of the canyon. “There, only a few kilometres from where we were. It’s fairly deep, with trees and rock outcroppings covering the canyon floor. Hard to infiltrate on foot and good cover from an aerial view.”

Greef claps his hands once, pulling you out of your musings. “Seems like as good a place as any to start.”

You glance at Din, suddenly aware of the weight of his gaze. The helmet is tilted slightly, shoulders relaxed, weight shifted to one foot as he takes you in.

There’s something confident, proud, about his stance that pulls your chest tight.

Cara rests a hand on your shoulder, smiling. “I’ll help you load up those supplies before you hit the black.”

You return her smile, looking back to the holo one last time.

That little planet - where you had sat with Din under the stars and shared your childhood dreams of freedom.

Where he had told you his name, removed his armour in front of you for the first time.

Where you had pulled away the last barrier of your own clothing and he had touched your naked back with more tenderness than anyone else ever had.

It had been a beginning of sorts. A step toward where you are now, that ever-present buzz of anxiety quieted, dulled by the gentle pulse of acknowledged love.

Now, you were returning there, following the trail of someone who might belong to Din’s tribe. His people.

Something cold hardens in the pit of your stomach.

A jumble of emotions, twisting and turning and -

Realization rushes through your body, prickles over your skin.

This is what you’d felt, back on the Razor Crest. When Din had first told you that Greef had news of the whereabouts of some Mandalorians.

All those emotions you had tried to decipher, failed, put aside to pick through later.

A night of drink and laughter and intimacy had pushed them to the back of your mind, but now, looking at the holo of that dwarf planet, you feel them.

Apprehension.

Dread.

Fear.

His people.

Not like you.

You’re not Mandalorian. And you’re not a child, like the kid, accepted by a people who place high priority on children and foundlings.

Sure, Din says you’re part of his clan.

But what happens when he’s reunited with the people who saved his life, raised him as one of their own, instilled in him a deep-seated loyalty to their kind?

What happens if they disagree with him?

*****

Mando’a translations

Tionas - question

Aliit - clan, Mandalorian equivalent of family

*****

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