#you can tell which of these characters I draw all the time | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kaysfanficcorner · 2 days ago

Text

Out of this World Chapter 11: There's No Other Way

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Earthling Reader/OC

Summary: The Mandalorian and The Earthling travel back to Nevarro to ask Greef Karga for a favor. They soon find that they are not the only visitors to Nevarro this time around.

Author's Note: Welcome back to my little corner of the fanfiction realm! This chapter was another fun one to write. Again, I am drawing from the second season of the show while following the plot I have mapped out, so keep that in mind as I continue to somewhat bastardize the cannon events. As always Din is a sweet soft boy, but in this chapter I played around with a fun side of him for a moment. The relationship between these two is so sweet that my teeth are starting to rot. I hope ya'll are here for it as much as I am!

***** = a break in the scene or a switch between character pov.

Mando'a: Ner - my Burc’ya - friend Cyare - beloved Cyar'ika - darling Dush - bad Jate - good Dala - woman Verd - warrior Vor entye - thank you Yooba solus - you are Ni ganar ori'jate bajurad - I have an excellent teacher (roughly translated)

Warnings: SMUT - 🌶️🌶️🌶️ This chapter is the spiciest yet, rough blowjob, rough sex, slightly dom!Din, bratty earthling, dirty talk; FLUFF - I'm telling you, rotten teeth from this shit; the usual cursing; jealousy; lots of feelings; I guess me changing the show's plot around is a warning?

Minors DNI, Strictly 18+

AO3

*****

Once again Din Djarin finds himself making a trip across the vast galaxy to the planet of Nevarro with you by his side. The strange Earthling woman who somehow managed to collect the bounty he hadn't realized was up for grabs on his heart. It's been a few days since the departure from Tatooine. The Razor Crest and her crew are still several days away from their next destination, and life feels good for the small little makeshift family.

Things are back to normal, while also feeling somewhat foreign at the same time. Din's inner turmoil about the child remains the same, at the forefront of his mind, but things between you and himself feel so incredible. So easy. The trust between the two of you feels more solidified, at least from Din's perspective of the relationship. Though he suspects you've been feeling the same way based on how affectionate you've been towards him. It's similar to how things were before Tatooine, only dialed up to a ten.

He assumes it has something to do with the subject of marriage being brought up, and the good conversation that had spurred between the two of you because of it. It's still wild to him that it's even a conversation that's been had already. When Din really stops to think about it, back on his beloved Razor Crest where he can think clearly, he's glad that the subject was addressed so soon. If you were to wake up tomorrow and tell him you wanted to end things, Din would be heartbroken but he would know that it is your right to do so at any time. That fact had been a possibility in the back of his head so much at the beginning of this, especially when he thought you may still want to return to Earth one day. But to know that you want him enough to consider being his wife in the future, that makes things feel different for him. To Din, since that conversation you've felt more like his wife than anything else he can think to label you.

Maker, what did he do to deserve the devoted love of another person like this? Did saving the kid right every wrong he's ever committed? In all his years Din would have never guessed this for his future. Especially since he'd written off the idea of ever being truly with someone in this way so long ago. Even as a young man who'd perhaps wanted this sort of thing with another at one time, he'd never imagined that it could feel like this. It's so peaceful, in a way that continues to surprise him the longer it lingers within his chest. That peaceful contentment fills Din Djarin's body with a new kind of warmth which sinks all the way down into his once weary bones, making him feel more and more like a new man each day.

Currently dressed in very casual clothing he does not wear very often, he's attempting to feel completely relaxed without the several pounds of beskar that usually adorns his person. Being without his armor used to make him feel the opposite of relaxed, so he's trying his best to maintain a calm mind in spite of his instincts to fidget uncomfortably. Ever since you came into his life he seems to find himself without armor more and more. He's in a plain dark short sleeved tunic, a light pair of dark pants, and nothing else save for the helmet.

Din is seated in front of you while you direct him through the various yoga poses you're attempting to teach him. This isn't the first time you've shown him how to do this Earth exercise, but this is the first time Din is taking the learning of it completely seriously. It was his idea, wanting to share in more of your life with you while discovering a new way to move his body. He figured it would be good for him. He also figured that giving you a chance to be his instructor for once may be a fun change of pace for you, considering how increasingly vigorous his Mandalorian teachings have been over the last few days. After Berav, Din realized you were ready to handle much more than what he was throwing at you before. He's no longer scared to push you too far, trusting that you will tell him when or if you've had enough. And so if you're going to follow his lessons with reverence, it's only natural that he does the same in return.

He's definitely not as flexible as you are, so some of the poses are difficult for him to grasp at first. You're doing a very good job of explaining how his body should feel in each pose, which eventually helps him to improve his form. What doesn't help is the fact that you are completely distracting when you gracefully bend and shape your body with ease. You're wearing those black yoga pants from Earth and your cropped black sweater from Nar Shaddaa, the dark purple under garment covering your breasts revealing itself to him every time you do an upside down v pose you call 'downward facing dog'.

The names of these poses all sound so utterly ridiculous, but he's given up on trying to make any sense of them as he attempts to concentrate on your instructions. For reasons that elude him, focusing feels especially difficult today. Din thinks that he finally understands how you've felt in the past when watching his body move during training would cause you to become so easily distracted. He is completely preoccupied by you. Your body looks so strong to him as it easily flows through the moves. That little peek of your bra and the swell of your breasts were the problem at first, but as you move in various different forward folds with your legs straightened out in front of you, the rest of your body soon joins in on his misplaced focus.

Din's sitting paralleled to your left, his own legs stretched before him as he attempts to fold forward the same way. There is a gap of about three feet between the two of you, and he can't help but marvel at how much shorter your legs are than his. How much daintier your feet are. Din's eyes keep flicking to those small bare feet, the toenails painted that shimmery black varnish from Earth that somehow hasn't run out yet. Fuck, he could really use to kiss the soft soles and work his way slowly up from the toes to the bony ankles to the plump calves, all the way up the thick thighs to the delicious prize that lies between them.

Shit. He's already getting a little hard just thinking about it.

“Hey, Chrome Dome, are you listening to me over there?” You say this with an amused look on your face, which is staring at him from its odd position on the ground. You're folded so completely in half over your one bent leg that your torso is pressed all the way to the floor, and you're clearly at least a pose or two ahead of where Din left off. “You know, if you crane your neck like that too much in these poses you'll hurt yourself.”

Slowly pulling his abdomen in, he rolls his spine to sit back up with the proper form you've strictly instructed him to use when coming out of these folds. Din moves to a comfortable seated position facing you, a loud sigh escaping him with a hiss through his modulator as he shakes his head. “Now I know how it feels to be you, getting distracted during training.”

“I don't do that nearly as often anymore,” you say, moving slowly to reposition yourself to a seated position as well. Your feet are flat on the floor and your knees are drawn in towards you a little, hands also flat on the floor behind your back to prop you up. A haughty little smirk crosses your features as you take on that awful accent you do from time to time when you're being intentionally funny. “Did I,” you say your name, gesturing to yourself, “manage to distract the galaxy's fiercest Mandalorian warrior with my unbelievably desirable body and witty charm? Oh my, is that a big bulge in his pants I see? All because of little old me? I do declare!”

“Mm, it's because of you alright. And I had a mind to give it to you nicely, but now you're just acting like a brat,” Din says, head tilting to the side as he mulls over the impulse he's feeling in his gut. Your little routine was indeed funny to him, but the ache of desire stirring in his core wants to guide this in a very particular direction. “I think I may need to put you in your place for that, ner dush cyar'ika.”

A lustful look crosses your features and Din feels pleased with himself for causing it. That's the look you get when he knows you'll do practically anything for a taste of his cock. Din truly loves it so much, the way you can transform into a hungry little heathen at a moment's notice. He enjoys the lascivious desperation in your eyes when you mewl, begging for him to take you in that whining wanton voice you use only for him in the most private of moments. Suddenly he's ready to make those noises emerge from your delicate throat once again, and it's all he can do not to lunge forward to rip the clothes from your body.

Instead he decides to play a little more, “What's the matter, love? Nothing to say now?”

Shaking your head, you look right into the visor at his hidden eyes. Then your legs part a few inches, exposing your clothed mound to him. Perhaps it's on purpose, but more than likely Din thinks it's involuntary. He can tell your body is already reacting to him and he hasn't even touched you yet. Having this effect on you is so intoxicating.

“Come on,” he begins to crawl forward, “you speak more than anyone I've ever met. There's got to be something you can think of to say. Where's that bratty fucking mouth of yours now, huh?”

Your eyes suddenly glance anxiously to the ceiling, expression shifting as you look at him seriously. “You think the kid will stay asleep upstairs?”

Din's tone easily slips back into the softer one he uses normally, his body softening a little. “I'd say we've got about an hour.”

Nodding, you've suddenly returned to that concupiscent countenance and your own tone finds its way back to the bratty one you'd used a moment ago. “And just how does a big strong Mandalorian put a little Earthling brat in her place anyway? Especially without all of his fancy accouterments?”

Din growls, voice becoming slightly domineering again, “What does that word mean?”

You grin, the look of it completely prideful. “It's from a country on my world called France. It means additional equipment used for a particular activity. So without all your fancy Mando gear, I mean. The handcuffs would be a nice accouterment right about now. Yeah that might just be enough to put me in my place. But I dunno, I am feeling pretty bratty today.”

There it is. That's the thing Din needed to send him over the edge.

*****

Din descends on you so quickly that you're completely taken off guard when he's right in front of you and his swollen cock is suddenly in your face, the engorged tip of it emerging from the soft foreskin. You hadn't even seen him unfasten his pants let alone stand up. His left hand is wrapped around the base, positioning himself right in front of your eyes. You look up at him, the sight of his beskar helmet tilted down to look at you enough to make the heat between your legs become a full fledged fire.

“Up on your knees. I thought of a better use for that mouth,” he says down to you with that commanding tone he uses from time to time, the thumb of his right hand tracing your bottom lip while he cradles your chin as you comply.

Even with the rough rouse he's putting on, the way Din touches your face is so deliberately gentle and loving. It feels so good to trust him this much, to know that he's being this way with you and at the end of the day it all still just stems from a place of deep love and friendship. The two of you may not have been sleeping together for that long, but you've learned enough about what makes him tick to know that this is just a kinky little act. You like rough sex sprinkled in with passionate emotional sex, and so does he. But neither of you have any intention of ever hurting the other physically or emotionally. It's all in good fun, and if it ever were to not feel fun you know he would stop and vice versa.

And right now? This feels fucking fun. With Din you're able to play in a way that you haven't played with anyone, and you know in your heart of hearts that he's the playmate you've always hoped for. The one you can easily see yourself doing kinky shit with for the rest of your weird life.

Parting your lips, you grin as his thumb enters your mouth, pressing down onto your tongue while you suckle the appendage gently. When he removes the thumb and leans forward some, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up in anticipation.

“You ready to be a good girl for me or are you still feeling like a fucking brat?” Din asks, his voice working you over with how sexy it sounds when he's like this.

“Can't I be both?” You ask not-so-innocently, your tongue snaking out from between your teeth to flick at the precum leaking from him.

Then his free hand finds your hair, longer now by a few months and easier for him to yank at. Imagining him holding on to a ponytail in a similar fashion makes you wish it would grow out that much faster. So yank he does, pulling enough to cause a dull bit of pain but not enough to really hurt you. You gasp at the shock of it, and when your lips part even more he uses the opportunity to guide himself into your open mouth.

Working him with your mouth doesn't even feel possible, not when Din is fucking your face more than he ever has before. Your hands fly to his strong thighs to steady yourself as he holds your head, thrusting his length down your throat as far as it can go without making you gag too harshly. The girth of him doesn't help much either, causing you to have to open as widely as you can to take him all the way in. All the way isn't even the whole thing. There's about an inch and a half between your lips and the base. It feels like a complete mystery as to how the whole thing fits inside you without tearing you open each time.

Gagging and drooling, you take as much of his relentless bucking as you can until he suddenly stops and holds himself down your throat for a good long moment. Tears begin to well in your eyes from the lack of steady air and the slight pain of it, but just as you think you need to beg him to stop he lays off. He's sliding himself slowly out of your mouth, so you're sure to apply a light amount of pressure to aid his pleasure as he exits. The whining groan that escapes him makes you feel so proud.

That hand in your hair yanks again, gently this time. This one is meant to coax you into looking up at him. When your wet eyes meet the visor you feel as if you can hear him grinning from the other side of the beskar before he even speaks.

“How about now, ner cyar'ika? Good girl or brat? I'd choose wisely if I were you.”

A part of you wants to say 'brat' to really test the limits of this new semi-dominant side of Din he's showing you today, but the ache between your legs has become too great to ignore. If he doesn't touch you soon the pressure of it may actually break you. Relief is the only thing motivating you now.

“Good girl,” you breathe, squirming against his touch.

“Good answer,” he replies, pushing you over to bend at the waist. Thank fuck you put the padding down for your knees before yoga.

Propping yourself up on your forearms with your hips lifted, ass facing Din, a sharp feeling electrifies your body when you feel a hand brush the sensitive flesh between your legs. It causes you to shudder and moan, which in turn causes Din to laugh from behind you. He's not mocking you, he's simply just amused. You're pretty sure at this point that Din Djarin would never mock you for anything.

“Over the clothes and she's practically ready to cum on the spot,” he says through a hearty, rumbling chuckle. “Remember when you were afraid you'd never get to do that? Aren't you so grateful that I make you cum whenever you want now?”

“Yes, Din. So grateful,” you moan between words, the pressure of his fingertips increasing around your steadily swelling clit.

“Let's see just how grateful she is, then,” he replies.

His hands are at the waist of your yoga pants, tugging the fabric over the swell of your ass and stopping halfway down your thighs. You'd foregone underwear so the maneuver feels swift. When two of his fingers enter your warm and welcoming entrance without warning, a loud gasp fills your lungs.

“That's it, cyar'ika, need to get you ready for me.” Din coos, his voice sounding so lovely. “Mm. Very wet today. Perhaps I was not the only one watching the other with lustful eyes. Were you watching me, cyar'ika? Is all this for me?”

“Of course it's for you. How can you expect me to not feel constantly horny around you?” You ask in a sassy tone, looking back at him a little as you pout. “That's just not fair.”

“Is that complaining I hear?” He smacks your ass with his free hand, another sharp gasp escaping you. “What happened to being a good girl, huh? Ner jate dala?”

“I am a good girl,” you whine, pouting even more. He slaps it again and you yelp.

“I'm not convinced. Still needs to be put in her place, I think,” Din grumbles, positioning his cock at your entrance.

When he slides all the way in and a loud moan escapes your lips at the combined pain and pleasure of it, his hand comes around your head to cover your mouth. His palm stifles your cries until they subside and it suddenly slides to the back of your head, fingers once again gripping the tuft of hair. The hand really begins to yank, a little harder than before, and you're forced to arch your back to relieve a little bit of the ache.

Din's cock is pressing painfully into your cervix and he's leaning his head down to speak directly into your ear. God it's so hard to focus when there are so many different feelings assaulting your nerve endings. The hiss of his modulator causes goose-flesh to pepper the skin of your neck and arms.

“I'm going to make one thing perfectly clear and I need to make sure you're listening. Are you listening, love? I know it's hard when I'm buried inside your perfect tight little cunt like this, but I need you to try for me.”

Barely able to think straight, you really have to force yourself to say the word 'yes' in a gooey voice.

A smack to your ass and he's asking, “Yes, what? Need to make sure you're paying attention.”

“Yes, Din,” you hiss his name, breathing heavily as you try in vain to wiggle around into a more comfortable position. It's an impossible task, the grip he has on your hair and his length fastened deep inside of you keeping you glued in place. “I'm paying attention, I swear. Tell me, Din. Please.”

“Good, cyare. Now hear me when I say this: My cock is the only accouterment you'll ever fucking need. Do I make myself clear?”

The sound of his voice and the nature of the words coming out of his mouth are enough to make you feel close to the edge already, like a few pumps of his cock and finger strokes to your throbbing clit will be all it takes to make you crest over into orgasm.

“Yes, Din, yes! Crystal clear! I understand!”

Without another word he begins fucking you so hard that all you can do is stay in the position he's trapped you in and allow your body to get lost in the ecstasy of it.

*****

A few hours later Din is working out the tight muscles of your hamstrings while you lay on the same mat that was rolled out for the short-lived yoga session. After the training he's been putting you through for the last couple of days and the fucking of your life he just gave you, your body is in desperate need of some deep rest and relaxation.

Din's natural sense of what you need from him is so wild to you sometimes. Without needing the concept of 'after-care' explained to him, your cosmic companion made quick work of ensuring that you felt completely safe and secure once the both of you reached satisfying climaxes. He'd been rougher and more domineering than he's been with you up to this point, and somehow he just understood that you would require some extra soft attention from him in the aftermath of such an encounter.

And so he'd held you and said all of the loving things he could think to say, stroking your hair all the while. After he checked on both the ship and the kid, he made the two of you a cup of tea which you drank sitting back to back. Now he's giving you a massage to soothe the muscles he's been causing you to strain for days on end, all the while recounting stories from his younger days. He told you several days ago that the past has been on his mind, specifically the time he spent learning the Way of the Mandalore from his mentor as a kid. Naturally you've been encouraging him to share whatever memories he feels comfortable sharing.

The kid is awake from his nap at this point, happily hanging out with his two foster parents and his favorite feline friend while some soft music plays in the background from Din's little L0 device. It's instrumental, from one of the many film scores in your music library. Din seems to like those quite a bit, much to your enjoyment. Now that he has his own device it's been interesting to listen to your music from the perspective of it being Din's library as well.

It feels so incredibly good to be here in this moment. In your metal home, floating through outer space with the ones you love so dearly that it hurts sometimes.

Jupiter is chasing the new toy that you and Green Bean made for her during the stay on Tatooine. Improvised with spare junk you'd found in a pile back at Hangar 3-5, it's the equivalent to those fishing rod toys from back on Earth. A metal rod with a strong piece of thin cord attached to one end, and a frilly thing made of coiled wires and scraps of fabric on the other. You've been showing him how to tease her with it over the last few days, slowly running it along the floor to encourage her pounce. Only to quickly jerk the toy away at the last second, driving her mad for a chance to pounce again.

The kid is trying to do it the way you showed him, the movement of it awkward considering how small he is. But he's getting the hang of it, and when he successfully yanks it away at the last second the little cheer of triumph he makes causes Din to chuckle warmly at him from where he sits behind and to your side.

“Great job, kid! You really got her that time,” he says, all the while still rubbing the tender knots of your tight thighs.

You really have to hold back moans of pain when he hits sensitive areas. Even in the midst of feeling like your muscles are being split in two, though, you still manage to throw the kid a genuine smile. “Yeah, buddy! You're doing great with that thing. Just like I taught you.”

Din's hands halt their movements for longer a second, a strained little noise erupting from him. The sound of it alarms you enough to look back at him.

“Are you okay, Din?”

“Yeah, just feeling a lot,” he says, looking down at you with tight shoulders.

That odd sense that you can feel him judging himself comes back to you. It's been happening quite a bit since Tatooine. He'll say something and, depending on the context, it'll come off like he's second guessing himself. It's mildly concerning, but you trust him to come to whatever conclusions he needs to in due time. Until then, you just make sure to remind him, “I'm here for you, ner verd.”

“Likewise, cyare.”

*****

“Ah, my sweet Nevarro. So good to be back.”

Din observes you say this happily to yourself from where he's standing both beside and a little behind you. You're seated in the pilot's seat, hands confidently maneuvering the ship through the planet's atmosphere as you bring her in for a landing in the docking area outside of the city gates. Surprisingly there are a few ships, more than usual, also docked on Nevarro today, but you land far enough away from the rest to give space. You've gotten a lot better at flying the ship, just as you've gotten better at so many things in this new life you've chosen to live by his side.

“Excellent landing, love,” Din praises, watching as you power down all the flight systems correctly before standing to face him.

With a respectful bow of the head you say in Mando'a, “Vor entye, ner burc'ya. I learned from the best. Ni ganar ori'jate bajurad.”

Both impressed and endeared, Din melts a little into his words, “Mm, and don't you forget it.”

You shoot him an attractively playful look, causing Din's heart to flutter a little at the sight of it. “Gather the kid so we can go see our friends and help my grandfather,” you order, tone light.

“Yes, ma'am,” he nods dutifully. Din regards you both seriously and fondly beneath his helmet as he adds, “and might I say, your Mando'a is sounding better and better with each day that passes.”

“I feel like my accent is awful,” you respond bashfully, eyes flicking away from his unseen gaze.

Din reaches forward, a gloved hand gently caressing your cheek as he guides you to look at him again. When your big eyes meet his visor he feels the sudden urge to tell you that he loves you, and so he does. He doesn't wait for you to say it back before continuing on, “The quality of your accent makes no difference to me. I am grateful that you are trying. Speaking Mando'a is not something that I need from you, but I appreciate it nonetheless.”

Smiling up at him, your voice takes on a soft tone of affection. “It's nice to communicate with you in the language of your people. Plus it feels like it's our private way of communicating. I guess if we do find another Mandalorian it wouldn't be private, but you get what I mean. I've also never made myself learn another language like this. I took a few classes on other Earth dialects when I was younger but I can't really speak much of it now. Feels good to actually take this seriously.”

Din nods in understanding, “When I was first learning to speak Mando'a my accent wasn't good either. As I've told you, it is not my native tongue. But knowing Mando'a and many other dialects is essential for a Mandalorian to navigate the galaxy efficiently.”

“Once I get Mando'a down, we can see about learning others,” you say with a little chuckle. “One thing at a time, please.”

“Of course. By the way, I wanted to ask you something,” Din says with an excited tone that immediately catches your attention. Your eyes seem to light up at him.

“What's that, Chrome Dome?”

“What do you think about renting a room at the Inn again? At least for a night or two? We're running low on funds but I can see how good my credit is with Karga. Perhaps something can be worked out.”

Din adores your little squeal of delight and the brightness of your features as you leap forward to throw your arms around his waist. It knocks him backwards a step and he takes a moment to readjust before hugging you back, arms circling you as you nuzzle lovingly into his chest plate. He chuckles when you let out a long happy sounding sigh and say, “A real bed.”

*****

Upon exiting the Space RV with your cosmic companion and alien foster child in tow, you see that your first true friend in this galaxy is standing at the base of the ramp waiting to receive your party. She looks formidable as ever, arm muscles on display in the short sleeved tunic under her armor. You can't help but feel that she's put extra care into her appearance today, but you also can't put your finger on what exactly seems to be different about her to begin with.

“Hi, Cara,” you say happily, rushing forward to greet your friend with a strong hug.

“Hey, stranger,” she greets in return, embracing you fondly. Then her hands find your biceps, squeezing them with a look of approval on her features. “Whoa there, those feel like they've gotten bigger.”

Shrugging, you beam and jab a thumb in Din's direction beside you where he stands holding the kid. “Mando's training has been really paying off. I'm definitely a lot stronger than I was the last time you saw me, but still nowhere near you Ms. Bad-ass.”

Cara grins, “At this rate you'll look like me in no time.” Then she turns her attention to the Mandalorian companion you've chosen to travel the galaxy with. “Mando,” she nods and he returns it, “I am glad to see that you've kept up with her training. I take it she's improved?”

Din's voice sounds so fond as he speaks of you, causing your heart to swell for him. “You should see her in action,” he says, “Certainly an improvement from our last visit. Are you still enjoying your position as Marshal of Nevarro?”

Cara nods, but squints at Din with a tight-lipped frown. “I am, but cleaning this place up by myself is getting old. Just the other day I had to take care of some ne'er-do-wells hanging around in the caves your old Mando group lived in. Could sure use a deputy if you're looking for a long-term job around here. It's going to be awhile before seedy types take the hint that they are no longer welcome on this planet.”

“I appreciate the offer, but a job is not why we have come,” Din replies, looking at you.

You interject, “We need a favor from Greef, and we have a lot to fill you in on.”

“Then let us see if the busy High Magistrate will grant us an audience,” Cara says somewhat sarcastically, motioning for you and Din to follow.

*****

“Mando!” Greef Karga greets in that booming bass of his as your party enters his new and quite large office. You always liked the way the older man greets your cosmic companion with the same enthusiasm each time. The office is not what you were expecting and not what his office was like the last time you had been on this planet. It's an impressive room, impeccably decorated for someone of high stature to show off said stature a little. The open door to the balcony overlooking the city provides you with a glimpse of a beautiful view, and Nevarro looks so pretty to you in that short moment.

“Greef,” Din says with a respectful nod, moving to shake the man's hand. “Good to see you.”

“Likewise, my friend.” Greef turns his attention to you, smiling kindly. “And you, my dear, are lovely as ever. It seems like life with Mando and the little one here is treating you well after all?”

The kid coos up at the old man from your arms, causing you to smile down at him before sending a knowing glance Din's way. Then you turn your attention back to Karga, returning the warmth of his smile with one of your own. Taking in his appearance, you can tell that this new official position has been good for him. He seems happy, and enthusiastic as ever in his red ceremonial robes and fancy looking adornments. You may not know much about local governments in this galaxy but you understand enough to know that this outfit must come with the job. When you first landed on Nevarro and met Greef Karga, he had told you of his great plans for his beloved planet. You're happy to see that dream come to life for him. The city looked so clean and picturesque as Cara had led you to the new government building, even nicer than it had been during the festival of lights a few months back.

Bowing your head, you say, “I can't thank you enough for encouraging this arrangement, Greef. Life with my boys has indeed been treating me well, but not as well as Magistrate life seems to be treating you. Look at this office, look at that fancy uniform! Well done.”

Looking away almost bashfully, you can tell that Greef adores his new position as what is essentially the city mayor but is trying desperately to remain humble about it. “The people of Nevarro are happy, and that's all I care about. Besides, Marshal Dune gets to have all the fun cleaning this place up from miscreants who haven't gotten the memo that Nevarro is off-limits. I, on the other hand, am drowning in paperwork.”

Cara sends a pointed look Greef's way, crossing her arms over her chest with a tilt of the head. “And my job doesn't have any paperwork? There's more to it than beating up scoundrels.”

“So, what is it I can do for you?” Greef asks, laughing a little at Cara as he speaks to you and Din. “Have the two of you finally decided to settle down here? Nevarro would love to have you.”

You sit the kid down on the gray leather chair at Greef's desk, moving so that the group of adults are all facing each other. “Well we actually came here to ask you for a favor. It pertains to something dear to me.”

“Go on,” he urges you, eyebrows raising with curiosity.

And so both you and Din assist one another in the recounting of everything that lead to your return to the lava planet. You describe the resurgence of your grandfather, much to the shock of both Cara and Greef. Din describes the bounty hunters to Karga and the ex-guild member knows exactly who Din is talking about when Berav's name gets dropped. Then you ask him if there is anything that can be done to make the bounty on your grandfather go away. Greef explains that there is one person who he thinks may be able to help, someone who owes the High Magistrate a favor he has yet to cash in. Hope rises in your chest at that.

“Let me make a few calls and see what I can do,” Greef says with a reassuring hand to your shoulder.

“Thank you,” you say, giving the man a small hug.

“I can't believe your grandfather was here the whole time,” Cara marvels, head shaking.

“Neither can I,” you say with a curt laugh.

Din walks over to the kid, who has been using his ability to spin Greef's office chair for the last minute and a half straight. He stops the chair and the kid begins to wobble uneasily. “That's enough, buddy,” Din lightly commands in a parental tone. Then he turns his attention to the adults again, specifically Greef. “We wanted to stay at the inn tonight but things are getting tight without any bounties. What's my credit like around here?”

“I will arrange for the three of you to have a room, on the office of the Magistrate's tab. Stay for a few nights if it suits you to do so,” Karga offers with a nod. “But if you're in need of credits to further your journey along, Marshal Dune and I have a proposition of our own to present you with and we'd be willing to pay.”

“I'm listening,” Din says expectantly.

Cara takes a step forward, looking directly at Din. “I think that there's someone you ought to meet before we explain. We've had some very interesting visitors these last few days, visitors I think you specifically will want to speak with, Mando.”

*****

Carasynthia Dune leads the group back out to the docking bay outside of town, much to the surprise of the Mandalorian. Din's not sure what or whom to expect. Cara had acted oddly when she mentioned strangers that Din 'ought to meet', and he's felt suspicious about whatever this is since she brought it up.

Upon entering the docking bay, Din notices the other ships scattered around the Razor Crest more than he had bothered to before. Among various ships of all shapes and sizes, he notices a formidable Gauntlet starfighter in the crowd. That one catches his attention. It's not a model often seen these days, the rotating wings of it standing up like the wings of some great bird.

Of course, this is the ship that Cara happens to be leading them to. With you holding the kid as you walk beside him, he reaches out to brush your arm a little.

You look over to him with a puzzled expression, most likely surprised by his outward display of affection in such a public place. “Everything okay, Chrome Dome?”

“Thinking about sleeping in a real bed tonight,” Din confirms, smiling warmly. “Hopefully whatever this is won't take long.”

“Hopefully. As soon as my body hits that mattress I'm going to sleep for ten hours straight. At least.” You reply with a dreamy sigh, looking down to the child with a warm grin of your own. “And I know you will try to wake me up but it'll be no use. I'll just be too comfortable.”

Din laughs, “Ah, but if I tempt you with those sweet breakfast cakes from the restaurant I think you'll rise quite easily. I may even pick them up while you're sleeping just to make it that much easier.”

“I can't believe you would use my love of Nevarro pancakes against me. That's cruel, Mando. Truly cruel.” As you say this, you shove at his shoulder with your free hand before placing it to your heart, making a hurt facial expression.

Din's hearty chuckles are followed by a shake of the head as they near the ship.

“We're here,” Cara says, looking back to the two of you with a smirk.

When Din looks up and sees three Mandalorians walking towards him, his heart nearly stops beating from the shock of it. All three are in similar blue and gray colors but have armor that is unique to each wearer. Two of them appear to be female, one of which appears to be the leader.

He vaguely hears your voice somewhere to his right saying, “Cara, what is going on here?”

“Marshal Dune. High Magistrate Karga.” The apparent leader greets Din's two friends with a respectful nod. “And who do we have here?” She turns to address Din, “Greetings, brother. It is good to see beskar this far out on the rim.”

“You are truly Mandalorians?” Din asks skeptically, and the way you look at him lets him know that the surprise must be evident in his voice.

“In his defense the last couple of people we met in beskar weren't really Mandos,” you interject, looking at Din as if to say that you're trying to be helpful.

“We are as Mandalorian as they come,” the leader says, just as she proceeds to remove her helmet. The other two remove theirs as well, revealing three unique faces to him.

“You show your faces,” Din practically snarls, “you are not Mandalorian. Where did you get that armor?”

The leader, a woman with red hair pulled back in a headband, lets out a great sigh as her face drops into a frown of disappointment. With the helmet cradled under her right arm, the leader's eyes narrow at Din as she coolly states, “This armor has been in my family for three generations.”

The male of her group, a plain looking man with dark hair looks at Din with disgust as he says, “He's one of them!”

The second female of the group, a younger woman with darker skin and braided hair glares at him as she curses, “Dank farrik!”

“I am so confused,” you mutter angrily beside Din, sending sharp glares of your own back at them as you place half of yourself in front of him protectively. He does not move to stop you, feeling both surprised and moved by how fiercely you are ready to defend him. “What do you mean 'he's one of them?' Just who the hell are you?”

The redheaded woman gives you a look up and down with a raised eyebrow, saying fiercely, “I am Lady Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. I was born on Mandalore and fought in the purge. I am the last of my line.” Bo-Katan turns her attention swiftly on Din, “You were raised by a cult of religious zealots. Your people broke away from mainstream Mandalorian society and their goal was to re-establish the ancient way.”

Din feels heat rise to his face, and angry blush finding him as his temper also rises. Mainstream Mandalorian society? Religious zealots? What lies are these strangers trying to poison him with?

“There is only one Way. The Way of the Mandalore.” Din says curtly, motioning to you that it is time to leave before spinning on his heel to walk away from the offending impostors.

Cara and Greef look at each other with worried expressions for a moment before Greef reaches out to stop Din from passing by with a hand to his right pauldron, his palm resting over the mudhorn skull. The look he fixes Din with is grave. “Mando, you stubborn bastard. Can you at least hear us out on the matter we need help with? Having all your skills combined is just the kind of manpower I need to get rid of the last Empire base here on Nevarro. I know you care about this planet just as much as I do, Mando. I want my planet to be free of old oppressors and unsavory scoundrels once and for all, dammit. Give me that and I will not only doubly ensure the safety of her grandfather but I will once again offer you permanent residency and citizenship here on Nevarro if you ever wish to stay here.”

Din takes in the seriousness of Greef Karga's expression and realizes that this must be more dire than anyone was letting on. “There's an Empire base still active here on Nevarro? How long have you known about this?”

Cara steps forward to interject, “The base seemed abandoned for a while, but lately I've been picking up on unusual activity out that way. Unusual activity for an unpopulated area with high lava tides being any activity that is,” she adds a little sarcastically.

Din turns back sharply to face the group of 'Mandalorians' again, looking at Bo-Katan as he addresses them. “And what do you get out of this? It does not seem to me that you're simply here to assist from a sense of creed.”

Bo-Katan replies in that same serious tone she'd used before. “There are two reasons that the base is precious to me. The Empire's remnants are in possession of weapons bought and sold with the plunders of Mandalore. We are on a quest across the outer rim to collect these weapons and ships to aid us in the retaking of our homeworld. I intend to unite our people again and for a new Mand'alor to take the throne.”

Din openly and loudly scoffs, shaking his head, “The planet is cursed. Everyone who goes there dies. If you were truly born there you should know that better than anyone.”

The look on Bo-Katan's face becomes icy as she replies, “I do know that better than anyone. But do not believe everything you hear. Our enemies want us separated because they know that Mandalorians are stronger together.”

“What is the second reason?” You ask from Din's side, eyeing the woman with a look Din cannot place.

Bo-Katan eyes you back and continues, “I have been hunting an Empire officer named Moff Gideon. He has something that belongs to me. I intend to kill him and take it back.”

Din feels himself turn white, gasping at the sound of the name. “Gideon is alive?! Gideon is here?!”

Bo-Katan shakes her head, “No, he is not here on Nevarro. But I believe the next clue as to his whereabouts lies within the walls of that base.”

Din feels your hand on his forearm, pulling him to reality a little bit with your voice as well. “Mando, do you think that Gideon guy knows that the kid is alive?”

“I do not know, but we need to find out.” Din says, patting the kid on the head protectively from where he is perched in your arms. “Don't worry, buddy. We're gonna protect you.”

Bo-Katan's female crew member looks at the child with a raised brow. “What would Moff Gideon want with a small child?”

Din replies cryptically and evenly, not trusting of these strangers. “He was hunting the kid last year, and that's all that matters.”

Just as Din says this, someone from town comes running towards the group across the docking bay, shouting for Marshal Dune and Magistrate Karga to come quickly.

*****

You're so taken aback by everything that just happened with Din and the other Mandos that nothing really registers for you until people are shouting and once again weapons are being drawn all around you. Looking around to finally take in your surroundings, you see that you're in front of the school you once worked at and a group of rough looking aliens seem to be causing trouble. One with a bunch of spikes all over his face and what sounds, to only you obviously, like an off-brand British accent seems to be the one causing the most trouble. The alien threatens Greef and demands to be served an alcoholic beverage, which is when Din intervenes looking sexy as ever as he takes charge of the situation. You swear that the sun is shining just on him for a second as he addresses the group of galactic troublemakers, the glint on his silver beskar both blinding and beautiful at the same time.

It's actually laughable how quickly this fight is over with Din Djarin, Cara Dune, and a group of rogue Mandalorian warriors up against a handful of dopey pirates. You stand there holding the kid in one arm and a blaster in your opposite hand, but a need to fire it never comes.

Just as it had been with Cobb Vanth and Boba Fett, Din and the Mandalorian woman Bo-Katan seem to be more civil after fighting alongside each other in battle, albeit a very small one. The other two seem to openly not care for Din, but Bo seems to mean what she says about thinking that Mandalorians are stronger together. Though she does not agree with Din's religious beliefs when it comes to wearing the helmet at one's discretion, she is not being as disrespectful about it as the other two are.

That is the most wild revelation of all. The possibility that there could be two ways of Mandalorian life and that Din was both not privy to, and doesn't believe in the one that would allow you to see his face. Nothing about this changes how you feel about him or his helmet, and you hope to convey that to him later if he needs reassurance. But the fact remains that this changes things, and you wonder how Din is feeling about this under all that beskar of his.

Right now he sits across from you at the restaurant where you've sat across from one another many times at this point. The child is in your arms, wiggling around as he waits for his food to come. Normally you'd be talking to the kid more but right now you're listening to the plan to take down this Empire base. There's a blue alien at the table whom you met once when you lived on Nevarro for that first month or so after the incident which brought you here. The only thing you know about him is that he's Karga's bookkeeper. He's at one end seat while the dude Mandalorian, Axe his name is, sits at the other. Cara sits next to you with Greef Karga on your other side. Across the table from you, Bo-Katan and her associate Koska Reeves are seated on either side of your cosmic companion.

You can't even figure out how the seating arrangements ended up this way, they just did. Suddenly everyone was just sitting. Looking at the sight before your eyes of two Mandalorian women seated to the left and right of your Mandalorian makes you feel insanely jealous for a moment. Luckily, for Din's sake, he looks so utterly miserable and you do not need to see his face to know that it's true. You know he's not enjoying a single moment of having to listen to Bo explain how she is basically royalty while Cara looks at her like a wolf with hearts for eyes from your side of the table. This entire social interaction is wildly uncomfortable and you cannot wait to get out of there.

Once the food comes, Bo-Katan is suddenly asking Din if he would like to join her crew after the siege is over, stating again that she believes Mandalorians are stronger together. She says that perhaps Children of the Watch and mainstream Mandalorians can find a way to unite for the sake of their kind's survival. You can't help but notice how when she says this, the other two in her crew seem to make small faces of disapproval.

For a second your heart skips a beat, stomach lurching a little as you consider a possibility that Din could and has every right to say yes to such a proposal. It causes that jealousy to rise in you again, fierce and electric as you stare the woman down with an intense look from across the table. The kid coos in your lap, slurping up his food, and Din looks over at the two of you.

Din looks back at Bo with a shake of the head. “I cannot join this quest to take Mandalore. I am on a quest of my own, to bring this child to the Jedi.”

“What do you know of the Jedi?” She asks, eyeing him skeptically.

“Nothing, I was hoping you might help me by creed. If there is anything you know that could assist me in locating one,” Din replies honestly.

“Live through tomorrow and I will give you what information I have,” she bargains confidently.

Sitting there stewing, you can't help but think that you don't really care for Bo-Katan and you would very much like for her to leave your Mandalorian alone.

Eventually the meal is over and the plan is set. At first light the group will gather and make quick work of taking down the base. They will retrieve the Mandalorian weaponry, then overload the lava core to melt the place down and destroy it. Din and Bo-Katan will look for any evidence as to Moff Gideon's location and whatever knowledge he may have of the kid. The kid isn't to go anywhere near the base for fear of alerting anyone as to his living status, and therefore it's decided that you will stay behind with him. This only adds to your frustration with these new Mandos being here.

As everyone leaves to go their separate ways for the night, you are not surprised to see that Bo and Cara take off to speak in private, heading in the direction of Cara's house. As much as the Mandalorian royal annoys you, you are glad to see that Cara seems to have found someone that she likes. Definitely explains her appearance today, hair and make up done up more than usual.

None of that changes the fact that Bo and Koska made you incredibly jealous this evening, and that in turn is leaving you feeling irritable with your beloved when you don't really mean to be. He's trying to make conversation with you as you head towards the inn and you know that you don't sound like yourself as you respond to him, the answers you're giving coming out curtly.

*****

Din has no idea why you’re suddenly in a horrible, snippy mood with him. It takes him aback a little, considering how loving and kind you had been with him on the ship earlier this morning or when you'd so quickly defended his honor to Bo-Katan. He’s not interested in letting this simmer for a long time, waiting patiently for you to explain yourself as he would have done several months ago. No, the level of trust and communication between you has increased so much recently that he no longer feels trepidation about approaching you.

And so he plans to do just that as soon as the room at the inn is sorted out and the three of you are safely tucked away inside. Not the same room as last time, but nearly identical in every way. The plan is to rest for the night and execute the mission the following morning at first light. It's late enough that the kid has fallen asleep in your arms, but not late enough for the two of you to go to sleep yet. He's certainly not going to feel relaxed enough to even try until whatever this is gets resolved. So, if he can at all help it, he’s not going to spend the entire evening in the comfortable hotel room he's been looking forward to all day feeling wildly on edge because of your sudden change in mood.

You're already making quick work of tucking the child in the dark orange comforter, placed in the very center to sleep between the Din and yourself just as things had been last time. He'd been so worried that the two of you were going to suffocate the tiny kid that first night, but when he'd woken in the morning the child had been sleeping safely in the adults' embrace. Din recalls how that morning had felt, waking up facing the two of you. The sunlight softly lighting your peaceful face, the child tucked under yours and Din's touching hands.

Din uses that memory to steady himself as you kiss the child's forehead and stand back up. He notices right away that you're not facing him on purpose. Coming from a place of love, he softly asks you, “Cyar’ika?”

“Yes?” You respond, tone slightly bitter. You still will not look over at him, which Din knows by now to be a sign of just how upset you really are.

“Can I ask why you seem to be angry with me all of the sudden?”

You let out a long sigh, eyes shutting tightly. “I’m not angry with you.”

“But your demeanor towards me suggests otherwise,” Din counters.

With fingertips to your temples, you begin to rub small circles into the flesh there as you finally look at Din again. He's relieved to see that your features have softened a little as you speak. “I feel insecure, which makes me angry. So I guess I’m projecting that a little bit. But you haven’t done anything wrong, darling. I'm sorry for worrying you. I feel silly for even feeling this bad in the first place.”

“Do you know when it started?” He asks.

You sigh again, “When we met two very attractive female Mandalorians today and they kicked that pirate's ass.”

Din’s taken aback by that, completely unaware that the Bo-Katan and Koska had been the cause of this. He can’t help it, a little smile creeps up his lips under the beskar and his voice takes on a joyful tone, eyebrows rising. “Cyar’ika... are you... jealous?”

Covering your face with your hands, a groan erupts from your throat. “Ugh this is so embarrassing. Yes, you got me. I am jealous. I’m never going to be as bad-ass as those women. Seeing Bo-Katan stand there and talk to you with all of her muscles and beskar was driving me fucking crazy, Din.”

“Love, I have no idea where this is coming from but please trust me when I tell you that I felt nothing when I looked at those women other than confusion and a little bit of disdain. They are not true Mandalorians to me.”

“But they are from Mandalore, Din. She's the fucking Mandalorian princess, for fucks sake!”

“So because I grew up on one of its moons and not the planet itself my claim to the creed doesn’t mean as much? And just so you are aware, her bloodline means absolutely nothing to me. It may mean something in her culture, but in my culture foundlings are our future. We do not bow to kings or queens simply based on biological lineage.” He knows he sounds defensive but he also knows he can’t help it.

You give a shake of the head, frowning. “You misunderstand me. What I’m saying is that they were raised in your culture from birth, even if they take their helmets off and you don’t consider them to be legitimately Mandalorian in the way that you are. What if there are truly two ways of Mandalorian life? Even without walking The Way like you do, they know how to do everything I’ve been trying so hard to learn like the backs of their hands. How can I compete with that?”

“When did this become a competition to win my favor?” Din asks seriously, crossing his arms over his chest.

You shrug, groaning a little with frustration. “I don’t know, I guess I’m the only one making it one.”

Din looks at you squarely in spite of the fact that you cannot see his expression. “You've already won my favor a dozen times over. Those women didn’t look twice at me, but more significantly, I did not look twice at them. I think it is clear that you and I are together, even to strangers.”

Sighing, your shoulders relax a little. But Din knows you're still on edge as you speak, “I know, I know. Like I said, I feel embarrassed for even getting this worked up. I think Bo-Katan did look twice at Cara though.”

Din nods, “I saw that. Seems like a good fit for someone like Dune.”

“Cara likes her too, I could tell,” you agree.

Din says your name, tone dropping to a patient one. “You’ve changed the subject because this makes you uncomfortable, I can see it in your face. But I do not want to end this discussion without saying this: You are more than enough for me. I don’t think I could ever look at another person the way that I look at you. Yooba solus ner cyare.”

“You better remember that when those girls are using their jetpacks and acting all cool tomorrow.” You say, an uncomfortable, forced smile trying to find its way up your lips. Din can tell you're still feeling self conscious from the way you sound.

He moves forward, reaching his gloved hand out to cup your cheek. Once again he finds himself longing for his facial expression to be seen, the shame of that notion feeling odd considering the day's events. These new Mandalorians and their blasphemous lifestyle have him vexed for more reasons than just the fact that they flaunt their faces. But even still, a very teeny tiny part of him feels envious of Bo-Katan and her crew at this moment. Din has no interest in showing his face to the general population whatsoever, but dank farrik he wishes he could show it to you and the kid at times like this.

Din steadies himself, remembering that he's been able to communicate with you so well up to this point without his face playing a role in that. He reminds himself of how easy you are to talk to as he leans in to press his helmeted forehead to yours.

“I promise you that your face is the only one I want to see when I wake in the morning, and your voice is the last thing I want to hear when I fall asleep each night,” he says earnestly. “I love you very dearly.”

A little noise escapes your throat, and the way your eyes soften tells Din everything he needs to know. You're no longer concerned with jealousy as your arms come to wrap around his neck and he feels your body melt into his. “You really know how to charm a girl, Djarin,” you say in that voice you tend to use when the two of you are feeling particularly sentimental.

“To charm implies to manipulate and deceive, so I'm not entirely sure I understand.” Din says with confusion.

Laughing a little you lift up from the Mandalorian kiss to look at him more in the visor, in the eyes. “Its just another Earth phrase. I assure you in this context it's positive and intended to be romantic. I love you too, Chrome Dome.”

“Earth must be such a strange place,” Din muses jokingly.

“Concordia must be even stranger for the likes of you to come from it,” you say this just as teasingly, poking your tongue out at him.

“Hey now,” Din pretends to warn, “remember what happened the last time you were a brat to me.”

Pressing your body even closer to his, you smirk up at him knowingly. “I hope I never forget.”

*****

Next Chapter

Previous Chapter

Masterlist

*****

Taglist: