#the mandalorian chapter nine

[pendingfeels]

The Mandalorian—

2.01 CHAPTER 9: THE MARSHAL

#edit #edits #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #din grogu #grogu #grogu djarin #baby grogu #chapter nine

[the-baddest-of-batches]

Dar'Aliit: Chapter Nine - Bad Company (Sneak Peek)

13 BBY ???

The white grain spreads around me on all sides. I’m a child again, dressed in the familiar blue uniform of a cadet.

If I put out my hands, I can’t even touch the top of the grain, but it goes on forever. And the drums. The drums beat in the distance.

Where am I?

I keep walking. Ahead of me move shadows in the form of men. They wear a kit I recognize, right up to the helmets. They walk far ahead of me. I break out into a run, but no matter how far I go, I can’t reach them as they walk toward the horizon.

One by one, they’re gone. Ghosts.

I keep walking, hoping to catch sight of them again. But the terrain grows only rockier. I stumble. My foot catches the divot in the ground. I almost fall, but catch myself and briefly there it is, a deep snare drum sounding loudly. Gasping, I collect myself and walk on as more drums join the chorus. There’s voices amid them.

It’s a song I don’t know.

But the music is familiar. Something old and Mandalorian. Distracted by it, I stumble out onto a footpath and this time, I fall.

My knees hit the ground, jarring me. Before I can scramble up a pair of boots appear and stop before me. They’re black, except for the dust stuck to them. A cloak hangs to the ground. I lift my gaze and find armored legs, dented beaten armor and a thick shoulder pauldron segmented and strapped together with leather. Above it all rests a helmet carved from bone.

The T-visor is unmistakable, though. This is a man I’ve only read about. Mandalore the Ultimate.

The drums are thudding in my head now, threatening my ear drums. Then they are silent.

I pant, unsure why fear has turned my skin cold, but unable to break its hold. And my eyes flicker off to see another figure far off. I cannot make them out, but they are following my path exactly.

I strain to see them, but the Mandalore moves and his hand emerges from his cloak. He reaches down and offers his hand to me. I take it. He helps me up.

Again from within the cloak, he produces another hand, this time holding a helmet, black, dented, mangled almost. It looks like it’s been through hell.

Silent, he places it in my hands. I stare at the empty visor, reflecting my own childlike face. A face I haven’t seen in years. The face of a cadet.

When I look up, I stand alone. The drums beat louder and crescendo into a flourish. The last beat strikes, hitting a chord in my heart and suddenly I’m falling, starting, and jerking awake.

#

20 BBY Indol Mines

We were wrong. Looking over the edge of the pit that spirals downward into mines I note the ranks of thin necked B1’s completing their drills, marching back and forth under the watch of an orange painted Tank Commander. SBD are stationed around old mining tracks. In the center sits a decommission crane, at least I assume that’s what it once was given the placement, and the fact this was once a mine. All that remains is the scaffolded base, though. The rest has been converted into a fully functional surface to air ion cannon.

That’s what took down our ships. That thing killed Aftermath.

Crouching along the edge it’s clear I’m outnumbered. One clone and a small battalion of droids. No doubt more wait hidden in the mines. This is their base of operations and we never knew it.

Everything before this was a front to destroy us and pick us off so the Seps could steamroll the survivors. I don’t know what they want with this planet and it’s people, but I know they sure as hell aren’t getting it.

Each droid is a blip on my HUD. I creep behind another rock and sit with my back flat to it. I grip the stolen droid blaster. If I was suicidal maybe I’d go in guns blazing. Sadly even I’m not that brave.

But I’m no idiot either. I toggle my scanner, and while it’s rudimentary compared to a real planetary scan, I can see there are in fact more red blips inside. Probably whatever patrols are keeping out predators, and no doubt more droids racked and ready for deployment.

From this vantage point I can make out one clear weakness. The mines are old, which means everythings been dug out of them. All that remains are a few rock pillars holding up the structures and scaffolding left behind by miners. A couple well placed charges and the whole thing will come crumbling down.

Aftermath would approve.

The only problem is I don’t have the ordinance. But the droids do. Among the marching chunk-chunk-chunk of the parading SBD’s are smaller droids clanking along the tracks with carts of weapons. A quick zoom on my HUD and I can make out more than enough ordinance to take down a mine. There’s enough ordinance there to take down another whole city.

They didn’t just kill Aftermath. They killed them all.

I glance back at the horizon. I haven’t seen a trooper since I left. If they are looking for me, they’ll presume me dead eventually. No one else even knows about this place except that kid. If they Jedi can get him to talk and decipher what he meant, or triangulate this position, it’ll take them hours to get through all the decisions needed to mobilize even a few troops. Chain of Command exists for a reason, but sometimes, it only gets people killed.

Whether I succeed or fail here is entirely on me.

But if I do succeed, if I survive, where do I go after?

I remain perched at the edge staring at the pit of hell before me. Surviving is slim, but it seems to be the only thing I have done so far. Every mission, every squad, I’m the survivor. Returning to the 212th will just restart the cycle. More people will die, and I’ll still be here mourning every death. I’m a walking calamity. Maybe I’m death itself.

I shake my head and steel my nerves. I can’t go back. I won’t go back.

Deserting might not be the most honorable thing to do, but if it keeps someone alive then maybe it’s the right thing to do. I’ll stay here, let them think I’m dead and hide out, live among the locals and become a quiet farmer where no one will have to remember who I am, where I come from, or why I exist.

Farming was their dream. I’ll live it for them.

A tinny voice calls out an order. I look back. I can dream later. First I need to take revenge.

Part Two coming tomorrow!

#part one #fanfic #clone trooper oc #clone troopers #sneak preview #chapter nine #fic writer #wattpad #ao3 fanfic #writerblr #vode #212th battalion #jedi oc #revenge #tw war #survival #mandalorian #mandalore the ultimate #dream sequence

[skiitter]

Chapter Nine (hehe). The gang of two gets to Coruscant and things heat up. Hunters and Rattataki and hotel rooms oh my.

#light ghosts #skitterfics #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin/original female character #the mandalorian/original female character #I was intending for this chapter to be the one where we learn Nine's real name but alas my updates did not work out as such #i know it's late im sorry shut up JEDI SURVIVOR CAME OUT OKAY.

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret ☆

A MANDALORIAN SERIES MASTERLIST

[ COMPLETED ]

✩ a bodyguard!din x princess!reader fic ✩

series summary :

Married off to a prince on a planet that you hate? New husband doesn't know you, and doesn't want to know you? New husband gifts you a personal Mandalorian body guard as a wedding present? Mandalorian is a wiseass who won't leave you alone? Lucky you.

18+ mdni

do you like kitschy, campy romance novels? if you're reading this, I hope so.

behind the scenes & chapter notes + other extras (spoilers) :

chapters 1-5

chapter 6-15

spotify playlists

Lysa & Elaine information

the bks screen adaption

bks q&a

bks what if's

reader is generally not described past being picked up a few times, and having hair long enough to be put up

✩ chapters containing smut!

chapter one : honeymoon (6.7k words)

[ Absurd.

That is the only word that comes to mind as you stare at yourself in the mirror. “His favorite color is blue.” ]

chapter two : silent treatment (7.4k words)

[ Something is wrong. You bolt up from the pile of blankets that you call a bed and your eyes dart around the closet as you furrow your brow trying to discern why you feel so much different. ]

✩ chapter three : the smitten paladin (4.6k words)

[ You’re starting to think the planet isn’t the reason you’re so hot all the time.

You had woken up this morning feeling a bit better than you thought you’d be, your stomach is full of butterflies but you're still standing and considering the night you had you’re gonna take that as a win. ]

chapter four : sarad'ika (6.8k words)

[ Sarad'ika. 

You won’t forget it this time, you can’t. So you write it in your book, just under Mando’s favorite color you write the two little words that have been keeping you up at night. ]

✩ chapter five : lunar interlude : just a man (5.0k words)

[ Absurd.

It’s absurd how much the job pays. Din’s not even sure he should take it at this point because it’s too good to be true. ]

✩ chapter six : torment (5.1k words)

[ Okay, maybe you didn’t think this through. 

You didn’t think he’d actually come in and now suddenly the door is shut and you’re alone with him. ]

✩ chapter seven : just friends (3.1k words)

[ Maker it feels like it’s been an hour and you’re both just laying here. He was just inside of you; it shouldn't be so hard to find something to talk about at this point. ]

chapter eight : solar markets (5.3k words)

[ It’s nice to wake up excited again. 

You wish you could say that it happened more often but hopefully it will from now on. It’s going to be your first time leaving the castle grounds since you got here. ]

✩ chapter nine : shuk'la rules (5.6k words)

[ You need sex.

Normally you would be satisfied for quite some time after getting off but for some reason with Mando it was different. But it’s only been two days and you need more. ]

✩ chapter ten : lunar interlude : briikase gote'tuur (4.1k words)

[ He’s grateful for the break from you, even if brief. 

That’s not to say that he doesn’t enjoy every moment he gets to be in your presence but the more time he spends with you the harder it gets to remember that this isn’t real. ]

chapter eleven : he loves me not (4.6k words)

[ Something is wrong. 

All day it’s been wrong. 

He’s different. Distant. ]

chapter twelve : pretend (4.4k words )

[ Two days.

That’s what you’re willing to give yourself. Two days to get over it. One to get it all out of your system and one to pull yourself together. ]

chapter thirteen : lunar interlude : vercopa (3.5k words)

[ He did it.

He did exactly what he knew he needed to do.

So why does he feel worse than ever? ]

chapter fourteen : condemned (4.9k words)

[ You’re having trouble sleeping. 

You have no problem falling asleep, it’s mostly staying asleep. There’s a million different things that consume your thoughts and everytime you drift into unconsciousness you find yourself jolting awake, barely able to stay asleep for more than an hour at a time. ]

chapter fifteen : two tea parties (5.4k words)

[ “What did you do to her?”

Her voice breaks through his sleepy haze as he sits up properly. 

“Excuse me?” ]

chapter sixteen : absolution (4.6k words)

[ There’s a visceral sense of dread when you wake up, for several reasons. 

The glaring obvious culprit of your discomfort would be the fact that today’s your husband's birthday. ]

chapter seventeen : the apostate’s cabin (3.5k words)

[ Just Din. 

It’s sinking in as you walk in silence, holding his hand tightly as he pulls you towards his home. ]

chapter eighteen : portrait of a man (5.4k words)

[ It’s deliciously warm when you wake. You can feel his heartbeat and you can feel the soft traces of sunlight dancing along your back. You stretch in his arms slightly but freeze up as you feel him nuzzle his chin into your hair, planting a kiss against your hairline. ]

✩ chapter nineteen : reverence (7.3k words)

[ You really want to. 

You couldn’t possibly want to more than you currently do. 

It’s actually a bit mean. That he’s left you here in this state. ]

✩ chapter twenty : like real people do (8.4k words)

[ Mando and Din. 

All you can think about right now is how there must be two of them. 

You’re playing with his curls. ]

✩ chapter twenty one : te mirci't (9.0k words)

[ “It means I love you.” 

You aren’t entirely sure how long you stare at him, looking rather silly with your jaw practically on the floor. ]

✩ chapter twenty two : it’s you that i lie with (11.3k words)

[ Naboo has several trading ports. 

You could get him on a cargo ship. That would be the most inconspicuous form of transport. It would help if he was willing to ditch his armor. ]

✩ chapter twenty three : lunar markets (15.0k words)

[ Sneaking out of the castle gets easier every time you do it. 

It only takes a few minutes and you’re walking outside towards the forest trail, Din’s hand in yours, still giddy. ]

✩ chapter twenty four : lunar interlude : riduur (7.8k words)

[ He doesn’t deserve this.

How could he possibly be deserving of you? Yet somehow you make him feel as if he is. With your soft touch and the way your eyes get just a little bigger when you see him. ]

✩ chapter twenty five : wedding bells (11.7k words)

[ Four days of Leo. 

You were upset that Din was leaving you but you got over it rather quickly with the promise of his hasty return. ]

chapter twenty six : crucifixion (12.7k words)

[ “My room is too big.” 

He bursts into genuine peals of laughter and you gently smack his arm.

“Don’t laugh, it’s a serious issue! My room is enormous.” ]

chapter twenty seven : the apostate (6.0k words)

[ Silence.

That’s all there is in his brain. 

It’s hard enough as is for him to hear. It doesn’t help when he’s been beaten half to death. ]

✩ chapter twenty eight : a place for us (8.4k words)

[ You’d spent the better half of the day trying to get on top of him. 

Every time you managed to get close he’d simply set you down on the nearest surface with a kiss on the cheek and go back to doing whatever he was working on. ]

chapter twenty nine : the best kept secret (epilogue) (6.1k words)

[ The morning sun is warm against your face, you bask in it, unmoving and only half awake until you feel a tiny hand slapping your cheek. The illusion of tranquility is immediately shattered as you softly laugh. ]

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut #the mandaloria/reader #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #enemies to lovers #enemies to friends to lovers #slowish burn #forced proximity

[beskarandblasters]

Me and My Husband - Series Masterlist

Married!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Playlist | AO3

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

"And I am the idiot with the painted face In the corner, taking up space But when he walks in, I am loved, I am loved"

Series synopsis: Din Djarin is doing what any typical Mandalorian would be doing after reclaiming Mandalore; finding a riduur and settling down. He’s still a member of the Guild on Nevarro, taking bounties here and there to support his new family. But when he meets you while you’re working the front desk at an inn on Naboo, he finds himself hooked, feeling like he’s found something new and exciting in his now mundane life. How long can he keep up appearances with his riduur? And how long can he keep his little secret with you?

Series warnings: reader is able-bodied, set after season 3, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), infidelity, eventual smut (starts at chapter two!) angst, some rules/customs I made up for Mandalorian culture/weddings/marriages, switches between Reader and Din’s POV, no use of y/n

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Graphic: @nostalxgic Banners + dividers: @saradika

Chapter One: Lonesome Love

Chapter Two: Drunk Walk Home

Chapter Three: Nobody Fucks Like Me

Chapter Four: Remember My Name

Chapter Five: You’re an Angel, I’m a Dog

Chapter Six: I Gave Too Much of My Heart Tonight

Chapter Seven: I Know Who You Pretend I Am

Chapter Eight: I’ll Betray You Like a Man

Chapter Nine: I’m Sorry I’m the One You Love

Chapter Ten: We Nearly Drowned for Such a Silly Thing

Completed on 12/27/23

Bonus:

Moodboard by @janaispunk

Moodboard by @jksprincess10

Moodboard by @noxturnalpascal

Art by @pamasaur

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #star wars #star wars fanfiction #mamh #din djarin x f!reader #star wars smut #star wars characters #married!din djarin #married!din djarin x reader

[luckbealincoln]

Best Kept Secret (OLD MASTERLIST)

pairing : bodyguard!din djarin x princess!reader

THIS SERIES HAS BEEN MOVED AND RE-UPLOADED TO ANOTHER ACCOUNT. WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE. THIS POST STILL EXISTS AS AN ARCHIVE BUT THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE!!

series summary :

Married off to a prince on a planet that you hate? New husband doesn't know you, and doesn't want to know you? New husband gifts you a personal Mandalorian body guard as a wedding present? Mandalorian is a wiseass who won't leave you alone? Lucky you.

do you like slow(ish) burn? enemies to lovers? idiots in love? din djarin being head over heels in love? this might be for you if that is the case.

spotify playlists!!

dress inspiration : chapters 1-10!!

ao3 link : ✮⋆｡°✩⋆˙

✩ chapters containing smut!!

chapter one : honeymoon

chapter two : silent treatment

✩ chapter three : the smitten paladin

chapter four : sarad'ika

✩ chapter five : lunar interlude : just a man

✩ chapter six : torment

✩ chapter seven : just friends

chapter eight : solar markets

✩ chapter nine : shuk'la rules

✩ chapter ten : lunar interlude : briikase gote'tuur

chapter eleven : he loves me not

chapter twelve : pretend

chapter thirteen : lunar interlude : vercopa

chapter fourteen : condemned

chapter fifteen : two tea parties

chapter sixteen : absolution

chapter seventeen : the apostate’s cabin

chapter eighteen : portrait of a man

✩ chapter nineteen : reverence

✩ chapter twenty : like real people do

chapter twenty one : te mirci't (coming soon)

chapter twenty two : hide and seek (coming soon)

chapter twenty three : lunar interlude: riduur (coming soon)

chapter twenty four : te vencuyot (coming soon)

chapter twenty five : lunar markets (coming soon)

future unnamed chapters coming soon as well!! ★

#din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin/reader #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin smut #mandalorian smut #best kept secret #slow burn #enemies to lovers #idiots in love #idiots in denial #angst #ongoing #luckbealincoln

[millersdjarin]

I Only See Daylight - Masterlist

-title from “daylight” by taylor swift, the soundtrack to this fic-

(my full masterlist)

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader (AFAB)

Series Info: COMPLETE, set after The Mandalorian season 2/The Book of Boba Fett.

Fic Length: ~141.6k

No use of Y/N.

Summary: You’ve stayed in one place all this time, knowing that any move to leave could lead Them to find you.

But despite your desperate need to stay alone, to stay safe, when a Mandalorian and his child crash land in your middle-of-nowhere home needing help, you can’t turn them down. Not even when they offer to take you to see the Galaxy, no matter how dangerous it may be.

Tags/Warnings: slow burn, eventual smut, post-canon, trauma, past emotional/physical abuse, religious trauma, cults, scars, negative self-image, din working out his shit, reader working out her shit, found family, injury, heavy angst but also lots of fluff and love

Notes: each chapter will have individual warnings/tags. this is slow burn. expect fluff, smut, angst, and appearances from mando’s friends :)

Chapters:

Chapter One (6.8k)

Chapter Two (6k)

Chapter Three (6.1k)

Chapter Four (4.2k)

Chapter Five (5.5k)

Chapter Six (4.9k)

Chapter Seven (7k)

Chapter Eight (10k)

Chapter Nine (4.8k)

Chapter Ten (5.2k)

Chapter Eleven* (5.6k)

Chapter Twelve (4.7k)

Chapter Thirteen* (5.2k)

Chapter Fourteen (10k)

Chapter Fifteen* (8.2k)

Chapter Sixteen (6.9k)

Chapter Seventeen (6.4k)

Chapter Eighteen* (6.8k)

Chapter Nineteen (7.2k)

Chapter Twenty* (8k)

Chapter Twenty-One (6k)

Chapter Twenty-Two (4.8k)

*indicates smut

Fic Tag (inspo, updates, etc)

Also on AO3!

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #gif cw #my post #my fic: masterlist

[dumbbitchenergy17]

Clan of Three Series

Clan of Three - Series Masterlist

A Mandalorian, an infant with a history of the jedi, and a teenager with similar powers with an undiscovered lineage. An unlikely group to travel the galaxy together.

Father Figure!Din Djarin x Platonic!Teen!Reader

Word Count: 172.2K

Season One:

Chapter One: The Mandalorian, The Child, and The Thief

Chapter Two: The Sin

Chapter Three: Sanctuary

Chapter Four: The Gunslinger and Past

Chapter Five: The Prisoner

Chapter Six: The Reckoning

Chapter Seven: Redemption

Season Two:

Chapter Eight: The Marshal

Chapter Nine: The Passenger

Chapter Ten: The Heiress

Chapter Eleven: The Siege

Chapter Twelve: The Jedi

Chapter Thirteen: Tragedy

Chapter Fourteen: The Rescue

The Book of Boba Fett:

Chapter One: The Mandalorian and The Jedi

Chapter Two: Return of the Mandalorian

Chapter Three: From the Desert Comes a Stranger

Chapter Four: In the Name of Honor

Season Three:

Chapter Fifteen: The Apostate

Chapter Sixteen: The Mines of Mandalore

Chapter Seventeen: The Challenge

Chapter Eighteen: The Foundling

Chapter Nineteen: The Pirate

Chapter Twenty: Guns for Hire

Chapter Twenty-One: The Spies

Chapter Twenty-Two: Clan of Three

Drabbles/One-Shots:

Crossing a line - (one-shot) high stakes can be the reason the innocence begins to crack. (Takes place between the end of Season 2 and BOBF)

#star wars #star wars fanfiction #the mandalorian #clan of three series #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x y/n #mando x reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin x teen!reader

[starblightbindery]

Binder's Note for Forms by Trebia

How Forms fits in the long tradition of Star Wars fanfic.

My hope is that this project captures a snapshot in time from Star Wars fandom het shippers between December 2015 and December 2017, before the franchise confirmed any emotional intimacy—if you can call it that— between Rey and Kylo Ren in Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017).

Trebia, then aged 24, wrote and published the first chapter of Forms on Archive of Our Own on December 18th, 2015—the exact release date of Star Wars: The Force Awakens. When posting this first chapter, Trebia noted, “I’m just working off of memory from the one viewing I saw last night.” The entirety of the fanfic was completed and posted an exact month later, making this fic historically significant in Star Wars fandom as one of the earliest published “Reylo” stories.

A serialized novella that was churned out in an astonishingly short time frame, Forms is notable for predicting many elements of The Last Jedi (2017) and The Rise of Skywalker (2019), including the Reylo Force bond, Rey walking away from her training with Luke Skywalker, Kylo Ren pleading with Rey to join him, and Kylo Ren pushing his Force energy into Rey to save her life.

Throughout the story, Trebia mashed new and old Star Wars elements together—characters like the Mandalorians and Admiral Daala, settings like Illum and Kuat⁠—evincing her fondness for the Galaxy Far, Far Away. Forms has classic tropes from this franchise, like stealing a uniform to go undercover in an enemy base and the forced proximity of a “Slow Boat to Bespin.” Present in Forms are scads of fan theories from between the release of The Force Awakens and The Last Jedi. These included the theory that—echoing a Legends plot line from Dark Empire (1991) where somehow Palpatine returns and Luke Skywalker joins the dark side to try and take him down from the inside—Kylo Ren had strategic reasons for his apprenticeship to Snoke. Like many Reylo fan-works set in-universe, Trebia lends justification to his many antisocial acts, part of shipper efforts to make the character more self-relevant and sympathetic.

Forms weaves in tantalizing threads that were tossed around by fans and concept artists but ultimately not pursued, including Dark Rey, Stormpilot (Finn/Poe Dameron), and Rey's saberstaff. Trebia even predicted the Kuat Drive Yards plot line started in The Last Jedi (Rose Tico’s contempt for weapon's manufacturers on Canto Bight) and continued in the abandoned Episode IX: Duel of Fates script by Colin Trevorrow. Forms also addresses loose ends that probably should have been covered for a more cohesive nine film saga, like the Chosen One prophecy and direct interaction between Anakin Skywalker and Kylo Ren.

No discussion of Forms can be complete without also placing it in the context of Star Wars fandom in 2016. Reylo was a fringe pairing that made intuitive sense to many Star Wars fans, particularly women; however, prior to The Last Jedi, the ship was dwarfed by the popularity of slash ships like Finn/Poe and Kylo Ren/Hux. At the time, many fans theorized that Rey was Luke Skywalker’s long-lost daughter, making her Ben Solo’s first cousin, making Reylo an incest ship.

As noted on the Fanlore wiki, the tags on this fic changed over time. In addition to “Riding the bus to hell either way” Trebia joked with tags like “Possible incest?” and “Not incest until proven guilty in the court of law.” Following the release of Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Trebia celebrated by replacing those tags with a celebratory “IT AIN’T INCEST.”

The story's strong influence in early Reylo fandom reflected a hunger for more Star Wars romances about the pull between light and dark. After all, the sequel trilogy did not set up Kylo Ren as a horned, alien-appearing monster or a wrinkled geezer. Unblemished by the ravages of the dark side, Kylo Ren was depicted with pillow lips and a fabulous, voluminous coiffure unencumbered by his helm (which really should have flattened it to his scalp.) The groundwork for a lightsider/darksider romance was previously explored in other Expanded Universe stories. At the forefront of these were watered down lightsider/darkside romances like the tepidly written romance between Luke Skywalker and former Palpatine agent Mara Jade. Given Mara Jade was hardly a champion of the dark side, there was no risk of corrupting Skywalker. But the Expanded Universe also boasted stories that played with this dynamic, like the twisted connection between Fable Astin and Jaalib Brandl by Patricia A. Jackson for the Star Wars Adventure Journal (1994), the conflict between Jaina Solo and Zekk in Kevin J. Anderson's Young Jedi Knights (1996),or the passion between Darth Revan and Bastila Shan in Star Wars: Knights of the Old Republic (2003). In this respect, Forms and the rest of the Reylo fan fiction oeuvre continues the grand fan tradition of Star Wars villain fucking.

“Darksider and lightsider conflict is one of the most fascinating points of Star Wars,” Trebia said in 2016, when interviewed by Spencer Kornhaber for The Atlantic. “Rey and Kylo represent the fight to find the balance.” Yet, at the time, the fledgling “Reylo” ship was abhorred by affirmational Star Wars fans who despised the emphasis on shipping with a female gaze, as well as scorned by media commentators who found the ship to be “problematic.” In male-dominated, established fan spaces like Reddit and Jedi Council Forums, discussion of Reylo was effectively banned by moderators through the freezing of threads. In other fandom spaces like Twitter and Tumblr, discourse about Reylo mirrored larger purity culture. The ship became a convenient target for alt-right misogynists, and also for anti‑shippers concerned that the ship “romanticized abuse.” Productive and unproductive debate arose around media consumption construed as agreement or approval, whether a sympathetic Kylo Ren lends people to give more latitude to real-life white right-wing men with anger management problems (or if it's the other way around), and if shippers can tell the difference between a fictional antihero and the same dangerous thing in real life. Critiques of Reylo fandom also included the implicit racism inherent in the sidelining of John Boyega’s heroic character Finn in favor of white whiny fascist Kylo Ren. (It did not help that 2016 also saw the election where white American women voters decided to displace a competent Black man with a white whiny fascist.)

In the September 2020 issue of the Journal of Fandom Studies, Andrea Marshall notes that Reylo “fan fiction acts as a locus of resistance to gendered oppression as feminist authors construct selves that critique the source material and the fandom for gendered oppression within tropes and attitudes.” By having Rey actually interact with and befriend a woman other than Leia, Forms already improves on the source material. It's a delight to see Forms depict older women over age fifty who are plot-significant and interact which one another, if only because Star Wars movies are fairly gender regressive. On the other hand, Rey's strategy to convert Kylo back to the light is to uh, suck the badness out of him. It's Padmé Amidala logic—sure, he arranged the wholesale slaughter of an entire village, but he can also deftly finger you to orgasm! Granted, Star Wars is infamously a franchise of excuse making, where really shitty dudes manage to turn it around and do the right thing at the last minute. Forms also doesn't push all that hard to actively resist the neo-fascist allegory in the sequel trilogy, particularly in Trebia's appendix, which dissatisfactorily explains that all of the First Order war criminals in the story ended up as instructors in military academies. (Who would even hire them, Albus Dumbledore?!)

Fics like Forms led to “ship wars” discourse, which led to the publication of ozhawkauthor's “The Three Laws of Fandom” meta essay on January 1st, 2016. “Laws” is a bit of a misnomer since there is no enforcement body; the essay is more of a request for courtesy in fandom spaces. The laws were also meant to apply specifically to shipping, not fandom or media criticism as a whole. “It’s not up to you to decide what other people are allowed to like or not like, to create or not to create,” wrote ozhawkauthor. “That’s censorship. Don’t do it.”

For fans conscious of fandom history and the impact of censorship in spaces like FanFiction.net and Livejournal, ozhawkauthor's guidelines—(1) Don't like; don't read, (2) Your ship is not my ship, (3)Ship and let ship—felt intuitive. This is reflected in spaces like my bookbinding guild, Renegade, which—similar to Archive of Our Own—takes a hands off approach to policing content. This did not prevent widespread handwringing about Reylo content. Star Wars fan ughwhyben reflected on the “gigantic fandom that is suddenly experiencing a renaissance, where an influx of mainstream folk are trickling into (or running into) the fic side for possibly the first time right now and don’t have this training. It’s like we’re flickering back and forth between the modern evolution of fic side fannish culture and what things were like in, for example, 2001 when I first stumbled in.”

Decades ago, in May 1981, Lucasfilm reacted to the publication of “Slow Boat to Bespin” by Anne Elizabeth Zeek & Barbara Wenk by declaring a ban on smut in fan fiction. I've included in the errata of this binding a letter from 1981 written by the Star Wars fanclub president to circulating fanzines threatening legal action. While slash was also caught in this net—disproportionately targeted given non-explicit gay romance was not okay even though Star Wars has non-explicit het romance—it was this fairly tame (by fic standards) heteronormative fic, featuring Han Solo and Princess Leia, that signaled to Lucasfilm that smutty fanfic was no longer on the fringes and now needed to be addressed to protect the “wholesomeness” of the franchise. Subsequently, fanfic writers had to make a conscious decision to flout Lucasfilm’s policy and go forth with propagating their smut.

And, in 2016, of all the ships in all of fandom, it was the Reylo Star Wars pairing, featuring this specific heteronormative female power fantasy (of being able to leash a villain by the dick to drag him back to the light) that led to a communal reaffirmation of these fandom norms. In her interviews with the The Atlantic, Trebia directly quotes from the Three Laws of Fandom, endorsing “ship and let ship” as a basis for creating Reylo fanworks. “I am fully involved in the garbage compactor that is this pairing, and I love it,” Trebia said. “No matter what way it goes, I will stick with it.”

After studying early romance novels from the late 1600s and early 1700s, Ros Ballaster observed a polarity between didactic love fiction and amatory fiction. Didactic love stories are sweet—aspirational, moral, and idealized—while amatory fiction is spicy—erotic, transgressive, untethered from social sanction. We do see representations of didactic love in Reylo fan fiction, particularly in contemporary romance “Modern AUs” like Ali Hazelwood's The Love Hypothesis (2021)where the Kylo's homicidal Sith rage is sanitized to a more socially-acceptable grumpy academic brooding. One can comfortably bring Adam Carlsen, Ph.D home to meet Mother. But certainly, the majority of Reylo fic written by fans gravitate towards and come with the self awareness of the amatory. For one, Trebia loudly proclaims in her Chapter Two author note: “MORE TRASH FOR THE TRASH GOD.”

Discourse over the “morality” of Reylo fan fiction tends to overlook the distinction between the didactic and the amatory. As compelling as the idea of a “Force dyad” is in fantasy, this relationship is not meant to be aspirational in a literal sense. Yet, readers of Reylo fiction were and continue to have to defend their interest in the archetype with disclaimers—yes, it's trash, yes, I know it's problematic—while men in fandom are not held to the same standards when it comes to “problematic” media they consume or enjoy, whether it's a Michael Bay blockbuster film or male-gaze pornography.

As Deborah Lutz notes, “The Dangerous Lover Romance” is a centuries old, conventional way to represent erotic desire and romantic love. The “sublimely tormented Byronic hero” is hardly groundbreaking, to the extent that Rian Johnson's depiction of Reylo in The Last Jedi subverts the trope—at the end of the film Rey isn't enchanted, she's repulsed. The same way Star Wars replicates Joseph Campbell's Hero's Journey monomyth, Reylo stories like Forms reflect the broad appeal of the “how-the-turntables” Dangerous Lover romance—where the woman protagonist, initially subjugated by the debased, restless misanthrope, ends up subjugating him through her strength of will and the power of love. Trebia's Kylo even sports malevolent scars like so many Gothic male romantic leads before him—always on the face. In the Gothic romance, the heroine accesses socially undesirable aspects—power, rage, craving, desire—as expressed by her double, the Dangerous Lover. His presence in the story provides a basis for her disinhibition. The Reylo ship follows a well-trodden cultural script of transgressive female desire.

Forms the fan fiction novella is a notable cultural artefact reflecting a distinct period of time in Star Wars fandom. At the time, Reylo fanfic held all the promise of improved representation for women characters, crossed with the instinctual, regressive insistence that maintains a white male character in the forefront. Reylo fan fiction produced in early 2016 also led to the reification of anti-censorship values in fandom. Seven years later, a fandom that was once derided has gone fully mainstream, as fic writers like Ali Hazelwood, Ashley Poston, and Thea Guanzon top traditional publishing bestseller lists. What Trebia knocked out, hours after her introduction to the characters, is now it's own Star Wars literary tradition.

#fanbinding #bookbinding #reylo #reylofanfic #fanfic binding #ficbinding #star wars history #holocron #jedi holocron

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three

Father Figure! Mandalorian x Non-binary! Reader

Quick Disclaimer: @dumbbitchenergy17 has a series of Father Figure! Mandalorian that is also called Clan of Three. Our series are not related, but you should totally check her work out! It's super well done, so if you want the masterlist, click here.

Book 1:

Follows the events of Season One

Prologue: The Incident

Chapter One: The Assets

Chapter Two: The Mudhorn

Chapter Three: The Decision

Chapter Four: The Escape

Chapter Five: The Farm

Chapter Six: The AT-ST

Chapter Seven: The Newby

Chapter Eight: The Assassin

Chapter Nine: The Team

Chapter Ten: The Cell

Chapter Eleven: The Scuffle

Chapter Twelve: The Offer

Chapter Thirteen: The Bait

Chapter Fourteen: The Moff

Chapter Fifteen: The Smith

Chapter Sixteen: The Survivor

Book 2:

Follows the events of Season Two and The Book of Boba Fett Season One

Chapter One: The Path

Chapter Two: The Marshal

Chapter Three: The Krayt

Chapter Four: The Passenger

Chapter Five: The Spider

Chapter Six: The Fishermen

Chapter Seven: The Freighter

Chapter Eight: The Base

Chapter Nine: The Lab

Chapter Ten: The Jedi

Chapter Eleven: The Test

Chapter Twelve: The Stone

Chapter Thirteen: The Allies

Chapter Fourteen: The Darksaber

Chapter Fifteen: The Goodbye

Chapter Sixteen: The Separation

Chapter Seventeen: The Choice

Chapter Eighteen: The Return

Book 3:

Follows the events of Season Three

Chapter One: The Quest

Chapter Two: The Scraps

Chapter Three: The Cave

Chapter Four: The Mines

Chapter Five: The Waters

Chapter Six: The Sparring

Chapter Seven: The Message

Chapter Eight: The Path

Chapter Nine: The Malfunction

Chapter Ten: The Bar

Chapter Eleven: The Fleet

Chapter Twelve: The Scouting

Chapter Thirteen: The Trap

Chapter Fourteen: The Retake

Chapter Fifteen: The Wielder

Chapter Sixteen: The Family

Special: Symbolism

Specials:

Halloween Specials: 2023

Christmas Specials: 2023

Pride Specials: 2024

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

#clan of three #clan of three masterlist #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #force sensitive #force sensitive reader #x teen reader #x teen!reader #mando x reader #mandolorian x reader #mandalorian x reader #mando x teen reader #mando x teen!reader #mandalorian x teen reader #mandolorian x teen reader #mandalorian x teen!reader #mandolorian x teen!reader #star wars #star wars x reader #the mandalorian #the mandolorian #jedi #baby yoda #grogu #father figure #found family trope #found family

[crispyjenkins]

dha kar'ta "crispy has lost control of their life again" celebration sneak peek

am planning on starting up a wip wednesday sort of thing (maybe next week?), which will definitely be more than star wars related stuff, but i've also just exceeded a thousand hours on skyrim in less than a year and wanted to celebrate(?) (i actually hit a thousand a few days ago, but in true fixation fashion, kept playing instead of posting anything over here lmao) so here's a dha kar'ta wip 'cause jango is fighting me a little bit but new chapter soon!! i promise!!

 “As soon as Satine is unseated, the Mandalore System’s full neutrality nullifies, unless Jango chooses to reinstate it.”

  “And he’d rather die than do that,” Bosoloc pipes up helpfully.

  “Yes, and at that point, Mandalore can choose to pursue rejoining the Republic for the first time since the Kyr’am Turr’e, because New Mandalore never officially seceded to the Senate.”

  “Which Jang’alor would also rather die than do.”

  Obi-Wan acknowledges Ezovac with a nod. “The politics of sovereign states that exist within sectors technically under control of the Republic are a disaster at best, and almost no one in the Senate is willing to deal with it long enough for a planet to get the flimsiwork through.” Melidaan is a Republic planet now, but the Young didn’t always intend it to be, and Nield couldn’t read, so Obi-Wan had done a lot of that research between battles; and being on the run from Death Watch actually afforded a considerable amount of downtime during his year on Mandalore, and, well. A big part of that Obi-Wan had thought it was all information he’d need to know if Satine asked him to stay, and Obi-Wan still hasn’t quite learned how to let someone love him unless he can be useful to them.

  Actually, it’s rather convenient that he had done all this research for Mandalore specifically, if thirteen years too early — perhaps the Force was simply preparing him for this Mandalore, not Satine’s. 

  Across the mess table, Kal groans loudly and slumps his head down. “Fine, I’ll bite, kih’Alor: what’s any of that got to do with Duchess Demagolka?”

  “Theoretically,” Obi-Wan sighs again, pushing a grumbling Dha further into his mind so he can concentrate, “Mandalore does not actually have to declare itself as anything; there are plenty of planets in the outer rim that have sovereignty without officialising it with the Republic.”

  “But...?”

  “But, thanks to Satine, Mandalore is embroiled in Senate politics nine ways to Corellian Hells, and it’ll be even worse if she makes any headway with the beskar mines while we’re off fighting Vizsla. We simply can’t withdraw from those politics, not when Mandalore’s history is so entwined with the Republic’s, not unless we want to go full isolationist from the rest of the galaxy.” He glances at his other table-/councilmates, and is relieved to see they seem to be keeping up, if looking a bit exhausted by it; Obi-Wan shares the sentiment.

  Luckily, the mess is empty now with everyone returning to their increased post-battle duties, or Obi-Wan is sure they’d have had quite a few more complaints about the impromptu government lesson happening in the middle of the tent.

  Kal rubs his eyes, shaking himself before turning back to Obi-Wan, his frown as deep as ever, but at least he still seems willing to listen.

  “So, we can’t just go after the Senate’s pet Mandalorian without burning those bridges, unless we have proof she’s in league with a terrorist?”

  “Precisely. And technically, with Mandalore as a sovereign state, the Senate can’t do anything about the change in power, unless they plan to go to war with every Mandalorian in the galaxy, but proving she made the first move will give us significantly more support for instating Jango instead.”

  “I feel like my brains are coming out my ears,” Bosoloc whispers woodenly, staring down at the remains of the protein gruel on her tray. 

  “You don’t have ears,” Myles reminds her, chin in his hand, and she kicks him under the table. 

  “What I want to know,” Mij speaks for the first time, easily dodging one of Myles’ flailing arms, “is how you even know about the Kyr’am Turr’e, Obi-Wan.”

  Bosoloc turns away from tormenting Myles to add, “Yes, I was going to ask about that, because I have no idea what the Death Days are.”

-

#dhakarta #jangobi #crispy writes #wip wednesday #sneak peek #prequel trilogy #darksaber au #obi wan kenobi #jango fett #mij gilamar #true mandalorian ocs #mando'ade #more obi knowing things he shouldn't because dha forgets what he should and shouldn't probably know about #mandalorian obi wan #well sort of and also in the near future but he's the only one denying it at this point #JEDI CULTURE RESPECTED

[wannab-urs]

Written in the Stars - Got So Much to Lose

Summary: The Mandalorian turns in the bounty, then feels guilty about it.

Series Summary: The Mandalorian takes a job unlike any he’s ever had before. Driven by his guilt over working for the Empire, even indirectly, and the strange bond he formed with the man, Din rescues his bounty. What follows is not something either of them ever expected.

Warnings: The Mandalorian/Prospect crossover AU, canon-typical violence, season 1 rewrite, eventual smut, slow burn, eventual romance, GUILT, Din caring about another human being, this one is really similar to the actual episode but I added some (hopefully) interesting little bits from Ezra’s POV.  WC: 2.9k

A/N: I'm seriously losing steam on this story. I have a couple more chapters already written, but I'm stuck on chapter 5. Rest assured there's plenty more chapters coming before we get there.

Thanks to everyone who has helped with this story. I hope y'all like my take on this episode of The Mandalorian <3

Ezra Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | AO3 | Kofi

Hyperspace, Outer Rim

“So where are we going?”

Mando doesn’t answer. Ezra has gotten pretty used to Mando not answering his questions… or responding to his stories… or saying anything, really. It doesn’t deter him from speaking.

Ezra fills the silence of hyperspace with stories. “At the tender age of 12, I piloted an escape pod through the dangers of Wild Space and eventually I happened upon this desert planet the locals called Ursu. I–”

“Wait, you piloted a kriffing escape pod through uncharted space at 12 years old?” Mando interrupts.

“Ah, now he speaks.”

“I am not going to sit here and let you lie to me. What other lies have you told me?”

“I speak the truth, Mando. Speaking of which, is that your real name?”

“No.”

“And have I not earned the right to know the name of my captor, my very own Charon, guiding me to the afterlife?”

“No.”

“At least tell me why Mando.”

“Have you not heard of the Mandalorians?”

“Errrr no. Not that I can remember.”

“We are a warrior people. Weapons and armor are part of our religion.”

“Why have I never heard of you?”

“The Empire destroyed our home planet. We are few in number and very scattered.”

“And now you’re working for them.”

Din doesn’t respond. Typical, when presented with a difficult or uncomfortable question. Ezra thinks he feels a smidge of guilt from the man.

“Why don’t you ever remove it? The armor, I mean.”

“We swear a creed when we come of age. The Creed dictates that we never remove our helmet in front of another living thing.”

“Sounds… lonely.”

“This is the Way.”

Later, lying in the Mandalorian’s bunk, Ezra contemplates their conversation. To don armor when you come of age and to never again remove it in front of another person… it’s unfathomable. Ezra cannot imagine shielding himself that way, and he hid from the entire galaxy for the majority of his life.

It fills him with a profound sadness, a shockingly empty desolation, and he goes to sleep to avoid his spiraling thoughts.

As Nevarro comes into view, a holo transmission light flickers on the dashboard. Mando presses a button and a man dressed to the nines in a fancy robe appears on the console.

“Mando. I've received your transmission.” Ezra notes that the man has a deep, jovial voice. He sounds very familiar with Mando, and Ezra wonders if perhaps they are friends. “Wonderful news. Upon your return, deliver the quarry directly to the client.” The man chuckles. “I have no idea if he wants to kill him or torture him, but he's very antsy. Safe passage! You know where to find me.”

Ezra hopes they are not in fact friends. He sees Mando tense up at the man’s blunt words. “Dammit, Karga,” Mando breathes.

“So you’re turning me in huh? The rescue didn’t put me in your good graces?”

“If it hadn’t, you would have been in carbonite.”

“I’m not in carbonite because it would have killed me and you’re worried about your reward. I saved you and you’re carting me off to my death,” Ezra spits. Any taunting previously in his tone now wrapped in ice.

“I would have had it without your help. And I’m just doing my job.”

“Sure, Mando.”

Ezra snatches the silver ball out of the air and drops it in his seat before storming off to the cargo hold.

Nevarro

Din knocks on the door of the Client’s building and the droid scanner pops out. He shows his chit and the door opens. Din steps in, pulling Ezra along behind him.

Two stormtroopers appear from the shadows and grab Ezra roughly, dragging him toward the office.

“Easy with him,” Din grunts as he follows them, feeling guilty.

“You take it easy,” one of the troopers retorts.

“It’s fine, Mando,” Ezra grumbles.

The doctor – Pershing, Din remembers – immediately begins examining Ezra. He scans him with a handheld medisensor.

“I’m assuming the arm was lost before you located him?” Pershing addresses Mando.

“Cut it off myself!” Ezra offers.

“Otherwise he is healthy.”

“Your reputation was not unwarranted,” the Client states in his strange accent.

“How many fobs did you give out?”

“This asset was of extreme importance to me. I had to ensure its delivery. But to the winner…” He takes out a camtono and opens it to reveal stacks of Beskar.

Mando eyes the largest cache of Beskar he’s ever seen in his life before turning his attention to Ezra being taken to another room by Pershing. Ezra meets his eyes through the visor and Din feels another pang of guilt stab at his chest.

“What are your plans for him?”

“How uncharacteristic of one of your reputation. You have taken both commission and payment. Is it not the code of the Guild that these events are now forgotten?”

Din stiffens, but doesn’t react.

“That Beskar is enough to make a handsome replacement for your armor. Unfortunately, finding a Mandalorian in these trying times is more difficult than finding the steel.” The Client clearly expects the payment to shut Din’s questions down. The second statement is likely a threat, though not one Din takes particularly seriously.

With the delivery complete, if weighing heavily on his heart, Din heads to the covert to deliver the reward to his Alor.

The Armorer is a striking presence. Her gold horned helmet and fur cowl set her apart from the other mandos in a way that is quite rare among Mandalorians.

Din sets the camtono in front of her and unlocks it. The Armorer picks up a stack of Beskar and inspects it as a group of mandos close in to see what Din brought in.

“This amount can be shaped many ways.”

“My armor has lost its integrity. I may need to begin again.”

“Indeed. I can form a full cuirass. This would be in order for your station.”

“That would be a great honor.”

“I must warn you, it will draw many eyes.”

Paz Vizla comes over and picks up an ingot of Beskar.

“These were cast in an Imperial smelter. These are the spoils of the Great Purge. The reason that we live hidden like sand rats.”

Paz throws the ingot back onto the workbench. He is angry, and his anger only fuels Din’s guilt over working for the Empire – over turning Ezra in to those monsters.

“Our secrecy is our survival. Our survival is our strength,” the Armorer says.

“Our strength was once in our numbers. Now we live in the shadows and only come above ground one at a time. Our world was shattered by the empire with whom this coward shares tables.”

Paz grabs Din’s helmet, jerking him to his feet. Din breaks his hold and draws his blade, attacking Paz. When they each have their vibroblades at each other's throats, the Armorer steps in.

“The empire is no longer and the Beskar has returned. When one chooses to walk the way of the mandalore, you are both hunter and prey. How can one be a coward if one chooses this way of life? Have you ever removed your helmet?

“No.”

“Has it ever been removed by others?”

“Never.”

“This is the Way.”

Din and Paz slowly lower their blades.

“This is the Way,” the mandos say in unison.

Din comes to stand in front of the Armorer again.

“What caused this damage?”

“A mudhorn”

“Then you have earned the mudhorn as your signet. I shall craft it.”

“I can't accept. It wasn't a noble kill.” Din cannot imagine the guilt he would feel, carrying the signet of a beast Ezra helped him take down. “I was helped by an enemy.”

“Why would an enemy help you in battle?”

Was Ezra his enemy? No, not truly. But Din had been his.

“He did not know he was my enemy.”

“Since you forego a signet, I shall use the excess to forge whistling birds.” Small guided missiles housed in his vambrace would be extremely useful.

“Whistling birds will do well. Reserve some for the foundlings.”

“As it should always be. The foundlings are the future. This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.”

The Cantina

Din visits Karga wearing his new armor, every scrap of muddy red now replaced with pure silver Beskar. His heart clenches as he wonders what Ezra would think now. He’d certainly never stop calling him a tin can.

Din asks Karga who else had a fob and learns that everyone in the guild had a fob, but Din won. He doesn’t feel the pride that Karga insists he should. Doing work for the Empire, work that could somehow further their interests, has left him feeling wrong. And at the expense of Ezra. He feels like his new armor doesn’t quite fit right.

Din’s jaw twitches at the sight of a Beskar ingot in Karga’s hand. Beskar belongs with the Mandalorians. He asks for his next job to cover up his irritation and to get the taste out of this last job out of his mouth.

Before he leaves to track down the bail jumper, he pauses. “Any idea what they're gonna do with him?”

“With who?” He knows damn well who.

“The bounty.”

“I didn't ask. It's against the Guild Code.”

“They work for the Empire. What are they doing here?” Paz really got under his skin. He’s no hut'tuun (coward) but he does feel like he did the wrong thing. He should have brought Ezra somewhere safe and claimed he could not catch him.

“The Empire is gone, Mando. All that are left are mercenaries and warlords. But if it bothers you, just go back to the Core and report them to the New Republic.”

“That's a joke.”

“Mando, enjoy your rewards. Buy a camtono of spice. By the time you come out of hyperdrive, you will have forgotten all about it.”

Mando storms out of the cantina and back to his ship. He goes through the preflight checks on autopilot, until he reaches the lever with the silver ball. It’s still not screwed on where it belongs.

Din turns in his seat and finds the makeshift fidget toy in Ezra’s– in the jumpseat. He picks it up and screws it back on where it belongs before powering down the ship and going to rescue his new friend.

“I need you to cooperate with me, Ezra, or Gideon will become upset with me.”

“Please do inform me why I would care if this Gideon is ‘upset’ with you?”

“Because he will kill us both.”

Ezra grumbles but lays down in the scanner as he was told.

“Now please levitate the object.”

Ezra doesn’t so much find it difficult to use the Force while strapped to the machine as he finds it extremely irritating, but he cooperates. He lifts the small durasteel cube into the air and launches it at Pershing’s head.

He has a brief flash of pain, thinking about Mando. He really thought they’d formed a bond. Ezra chattered and Din listened and only complained occasionally. Ezra had saved his life, for kriff’s sake. Ingrate.

Then he feels a real, physical flash of pain as Pershing sends jolts of electricity through his body.

“I didn’t want to have to do this, Ezra, but you give me no choice.”

Din perches on the roof of a building across from where Ezra is being held. He tunes in with his helmet and hears the Client tell Pershing to kill Ezra. He drops to the dirt and stalks across the alley. He knocks on the door and breaks the chit scanner, causing two guards to head to the front of the building. Din dips around the side and uses his charges to blow his way in.

He takes out two troopers with his blaster in rapid succession. Then he moves up on a third and shoots him too. They’re making this too easy. Mando sneaks up on the fourth stormtrooper and pulls him to him with his grappling hook and knifes him in the throat.

He shoots the last trooper and then aims his blaster at Pershing.

“No! Please don’t hurt him. He’s important!”

“I’m not here to hurt him.”

Ezra is lying unconscious, strapped to some sort of scanner. His blood is being slowly drained through various tubes. Din sees red and nearly kills the man on the spot. But he needs to know what state Ezra will be in.

“What did you do to him? What did you do to him?”

Pershing cowers in the face of Din’s rage. “I-I protected him. I protected him. If it wasn't for me, he would already be dead! Please! Please. Please.”

“It doesn’t look like you’re protecting him,” Din growls, but he leaves Pershing alive.

Din pulls Ezra into his arms and holds his blaster out from beneath the man’s legs. He’s out cold. Din leaves the room and comes up on three more troopers. He takes out two before the third one can get a shot on him. It pings off the wall next to him. Not even close. Din takes out the third with little issue.

He moves into another room and blaster fire opens up. Din dives, leaving Ezra on the ground and pops back up, firing a shot at one trooper and taking out another with his flamethrower.

He goes to retrieve Ezra, picking him up and turning around to find himself cornered by four troopers.

“Drop the blaster!”

“Wait. He’s very valuable. Here.” Din gently shuffles Ezra out of his arms and onto the floor. He sets down his blaster next to Ezra.

“Now turn and face me”

Din slowly stands, activating his whistling birds as he does and taking them all out at once. He picks Ezra and his blaster back up.

When Din exits the building, he notices that every single bounty he passes has a tracking fob that lights up.

Din starts whispering to Ez that he’s gotta wake up, they’re being hunted. He can’t fight them off if he’s carrying dead weight. Karga pops out, blaster drawn, from around the corner of a building just as Ezra starts to stir.

“Welcome back, Mando! Now put the bounty down.”

Din sets Ezra on his feet, but keeps his arm wrapped around his waist, holding him up. He aims his blaster at Karga.

“Step aside. I'm going to my ship.”

“You put the bounty down and perhaps I'll let you pass.”

“He’s coming with me.”

“If you truly care about him, then you'll put him on the speeder and we'll discuss terms.” Care about him? Is that why he’s doing this?

“How do I know I can trust you”

“Because I’m your only hope.”

Mando elbows Ezra in the gut, waking him up. “When I say run, you run. Got it?” he whispers.

Ezra nods and Mando leads him to the speeder, pauses, then throws him on it and jumps on himself, firing his blaster as he goes.

“Change of plans!” he yells. He orders the droid to drive, hiding behind cargo boxes. “Take cover!”

Din takes out several hunters before Karga shoots the droid driving the speeder and it crashes into a pillar. They’re completely surrounded and Ezra is still pretty out of it. Din starts sniping people with the amban rifle from behind the speeder.

“That's one impressive weapon!,” Karga shouts.

“Here's what I'm gonna do. I'm gonna walk to my ship with the bounty and you're gonna let it happen.” That’s definitely not going to work, but it’s worth a shot.

“No. How about this? We take the bounty, and if you try to stop us, we kill you and we strip your body for parts.” That’s not going to work either.

One of the bounty hunters attacks Din from behind, running at him with a vibroblade. Din hits him with the shock baton part of his rifle and knocks him out. He’s pretty pinned down, but he still has a few tricks. He uses his flamethrower to take out several of the hunters, but runs out of fuel.

Din is close to giving up. He’s nearly out of options. He looks over to Ezra, whose gaze pierces his straight through the visor. Din feels a surge of protective instinct, a desire to make sure the man is okay.

He lifts his blaster, ready to fight to the death for this man he’s just met. Just to spite the Empire. That’s why he’s fighting so hard.

Suddenly, the sky is filled with Mandalorians. His brothers and sisters have arrived on jetpacks to come to his aid. They start taking out hunters, outnumbered but certainly not outgunned. Paz has a rotary blaster cannon and is obliterating every enemy in sight.

“Get out of here! We'll hold them off!" Paz yells.

"You're going to have to relocate the covert.” Add that to the list of things he feels guilty about.

“This is the Way,” Paz states.

“This is the Way.” Din returns.

He grabs Ezra by the hand and drags him back to the ship. Just as he’s about to lift the ramp, Karga corners him.

“Hold it, Mando. I didn't want it to come to this. But then you broke the Code.”

Din shoots his grappling hook at a gas canister, vapor filling the cargo hold, and escapes deeper into the ship. He shoots Karga in the chest and the man flies out of the ship. He slams the ramp shut and rushes to the cockpit, taking off and setting a random course to get out of the atmosphere as quickly as possible.

He goes back down to get Ezra, helping him into the cockpit. He puts Ezra in his chair and resets his course for Sargon, another Outer Rim planet.

Paz flies up next to the ship before it exits the atmosphere and salutes them.

“You gotta get one of those,” Ezra says, levitating the metal ball into his hand. “And I like the new armor, Tin Can.”

header graphic by @atinylittlepain // other graphics by @saradika-graphics

#Written in the Stars #Ezra #Ezra fics #Ezra fanfiction #Prospect fanfiction #Prospect (2018) fanfiction #ezra (prospect) #ezra (prospect) fanfiction #Din Djarin #Din Djarin fics #Din Djarin fanfiction #The Mandalorian #The Mandalorian fics #The Mandalorian fanfiction #Din Djarin x Ezra #Din Djarin x Ezra (Prospect) #Din Djarin/Ezra #Din Djarin/Ezra (Prospect) #pedro pascal #pedro pascal character fanfiction #ppcu fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction

[davnittbraes]

Series: Completed, takes place between Season 1 and Season 2

Summary: You have a good life. You move from planet to planet as you see fit, work wherever your skills come in handy, dodge your past whenever it threatens to haul you back and generally find contentment wherever you land.

Until a Mandalorian and his kid interrupt your vacation.

Pairings: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: I am marking this entire work as Explicit because it deals with dark and potentially upsetting subject matter (and yes it also contains smut)

Word Count: 155,600

Notes: In this series, first name Din, last name Djarin.

General tags/warnings: Reader-Insert, AFAB and female reader, Anxiety, Slow Burn, Angst, Blood and Injury, Emotional Trauma, Violence, Negative Self Talk, Panic Attacks, Discrimination, SMUT, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, AU, Each chapter is also specifically tagged but this covers the big stuff

The First Step

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four | Chapter Five | Chapter Six | Chapter Seven

The Second Step

Chapter Eight | Chapter Nine | Chapter Ten | Chapter Eleven | Chapter Twelve | Chapter Thirteen | Chapter Fourteen

The Third Step

Chapter Fifteen | Chapter Sixteen | Chapter Seventeen | Chapter Eighteen | Chapter Nineteen | Chapter Twenty | Chapter Twenty-One | Chapter Twenty-Two | Chapter Twenty-Three | Chapter Twenty-Four

The Fourth Step

Chapter Twenty-Five | Chapter Twenty-Six | Chapter Twenty-Seven | Chapter Twenty-Eight | Chapter Twenty-Nine | Chapter Thirty | Chapter Thirty-One | Chapter Thirty-Two | Chapter Thirty-Three | Chapter Thirty-Four | Chapter Thirty-Five

The Fifth Step

Chapter Thirty-Six | Chapter Thirty-Seven | Chapter Thirty-Eight

Smutty Snippets

Literally just the smut scenes 😉

The Problem | Sanctuary | Say It Again | Opportunities | Eyes Open | Focusing Exercise | A Moment of Quiet | Safe. Protected. | Forever, If Possible | Only You | Worth It

Other stuff:

Series masterlist artwork - credit to a lovely fan who wants to remain anonymous, please do not copy without permission

Chapter banners - credit to Canva and my clearly insufficient graphic design skills

AO3 - link in my bio

Inspo tag:

#the world is light embodied inspo

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

[lincolndjarin]

Best Kept Secret

chapter nine : shuk'la rules (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 5.6k

summary : you spend some time in the library with the mandalorian

warnings, etc. : language, p in v sex, fingering, sort of a glove kink situation that is not verbally expressed but is def there, slapping, def like dom/sub vibes but also not spoken on, sort of a dumbification situation, degradation and also praise

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

You need sex.

Normally you would be satisfied for quite some time after getting off but for some reason with Mando it was different. But it’s only been two days and you need more. 

Instead of taming the beast it’s like he let it out of its cage and now it’s running rampant. 

But you had to have your stupid rules.

Maybe you could just get rid of the second one. 

You pick up the book, flipping to the back cover, staring at those damned words.

This is Purely Stress Relief. 

What an idiot, in your stupid quest to make sure things stayed casual you were somehow denying yourself casual sex. Maybe you could just fake stress, or start a fight with him. No, he’d see right through that. You’re in a genuinely good mood after yesterday, you’ve got no reason to start shit with him.

But you need sex. 

And he’s sooo good at it. Annoyingly so. 

And you can’t just ask for it, because he’ll tease you about it. (Which probably wouldn’t be all that bad now that you think of it.) But you need him, terribly. You’re lying here in your closet bed, doing everything in your power to will away the ache between your thighs because you don’t have the time to deal with it yourself, Elaine and Lysa will be here at any minute. So you stuff your face in a pillow, and let yourself have a good long groan as you hear your bedroom doors open outside the closet. 

The closet doors fly open and Elaine steps in, grinning down at you. 

“Good morning ma’am, is everything alright? You’re normally awake by now, you must have had a long day yesterday.” She’s raising an eyebrow as you groan again. Bringing another pillow up to smash against your face. 

“I’m fine. Just tired.” You mumble into the cushion. She reaches down to tear the pillow from your hands, picking you up under your arms and lifting you to your feet. “Maker, you’re strong…” 

“I have to be to take care of you ma’am. Now, up. Time to dress.” She steps out and you follow her to the mirror as Lysa goes to find you a dress. 

“Something green.” You yell over your shoulder, maybe he’ll fuck you if you wear another green dress. Gods, you hope so. 

Okay, pull yourself together. You can’t be acting like this around him, he’ll use it to his advantage and you can’t let him get the upper hand on you, not when you’re in this state. Who knows what you’ll do or say to get him to touch you. 

    You zone out as they go through the usual routine of dressing you, the jade dress hugging your torso making you smile, maybe this will work. Once you’re all done up you take Elaine’s hand in yours.

“Thank you… seriously, you’re a miracle worker. You and Lysa have taken such good care of me.” You give her a warm smile and you're taken aback by the way she squints at you before returning the smile. 

“Thank you ma’am.”

That’s all she says as she steps back, looking you over once before nodding and taking Lysa’s hand before leaving. 

Weird.

You put it aside in your mind though because when they open the door you catch a glint of silver. You need to think fast, how are you going to seduce him? Gods, you're pathetic. Whatever. Just get out there, maybe actually seeing him will make this easier, the moment he starts being a jackass you’ll be able to resist him.

✩

It doesn’t work. 

He’s nice today. Uncharacteristically so, it’s actually off-putting. He had greeted you with a compliment on your dress, had walked you to the library with no complaints, no teasing, and no resistance. And had so kindly handed you the book you’d left off on last time, he had even opened it to the page you’d left off on before he sat across from the nook and opened his own book. 

What’s his angle here? You’re having a hard time focusing on your reading because now you’ve got to figure out what he’s plotting. 

Stern, protective, annoying, persistent, nice? The Mandalorian is a lot of things but he isn’t necessarily nice. 

He isn’t cruel by any means but it’s off putting to have him acting like this. Sadly it doesn’t make him any less attractive to you at this moment because you’re still imagining all the different ways you could lure him back to your chambers. Your thoughts are interrupted by the low hum of static that always comes before he speaks. 

“You seem distracted.” When you look up the helmet is staring at you and his book is closed. Kriff. 

“Nothing, just a little…” 

Horny?

“Bored.” 

“Mmm. Want to play that game? Might help alleviate some of the boredom?” He sets his book aside as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. You’re about to blow him off with some lame excuse so you can keep plotting on how to bed him but you’re struck with an idea. 

“Sure. What does the winner get?” 

“Is there anything in particular you want?” Predictable, you knew he wouldn’t pick one himself.

“Hmm… how about the winner gets to break one of the rules?” He leans back in the chair as he’s seemingly considering the offer.

“Which rule did you have in mind?” 

“None of the important ones, just the second one. The stress relief one. Winner gets to break it once, at a time of their choosing.” He doesn’t need to know that you plan on cashing it in immediately when you win.

“Sounds fair enough, same rules as last time? Pass three times and you lose?” There’s a much stronger hint of amusement in his voice this time around and suddenly you’re nervous he might actually try to win. “You can go first again if you’d like.” 

Might as well start with an almost guaranteed pass. 

“Last time we played you said you needed the credits from this job, why?” 

You sit and try to hold back a smug smile as you wait to hear his response but it never comes. He just sits there thinking. 

“And you can’t lie.” You eventually add, in case he was trying to come up with an answer. 

“I need a ship. I know someone on a different planet that I’d like to go see.” He says each word slowly and carefully like he’s trying to phrase it a certain way. It makes you furrow your brow. You don’t have time to ponder it for long though because he’s already moving on. “What did you buy from that woman yesterday?” Shit, you had wanted that to be a surprise for him. You could always just use a pass on this, you’d still have two more, you aren’t really all that private he’s just managed to pick out a very specific thing you don’t want to answer. 

“Pass. Did you eat the food I gave you?” You should probably be focusing on more hard hitting questions if you want to win but you are genuinely curious.

“Yes. I had half last night and half this morning.” He sounds almost sheepish when he says it, like he’s admitting defeat. You want to laugh but you’re worried if you do he won’t take food in the future. “Why do you wear those horrific dresses on the fifth day of each week?” 

Jerk. 

He is right though, they are horrific. And it’s a huge relief that he’s seemingly done putting on the creepy over the top polite act he had going on. 

“Blue is Kodo’s favorite color. They dress me in it on days where I see him.” He lets out a huff at your response. 

“That’s a stupid reason.” 

“Do you often take note of what colors I’m wearing?”

“Is that your question?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, I do. Especially when it’s green. Did you wear that for me?” He nods at the jade gown you’re currently wearing.

“Is that your question?”

“Yes.” You silently wish he was sitting closer. 

“Yes. Do you like it?” 

“Is that your question?” He sounds like he’s grinning. 

“No. I just want to know.” 

“...Yes.” He takes a moment to just stare at you and that stupid heat is back in the library. “What’s your actual question?”

“Has anyone seen your face before?” You probably shouldn’t ask, it seems way too personal for how the game has been going so far but you’re in this to win it. 

“Yes.” 

Huh. You hadn’t expected an answer. And you definitely hadn’t expected that answer. 

“What do you think I look like?” 

You hadn’t expected that question either. 

“It’s a little arrogant of you to assume I ever think about you in my spare time.”

Or all the time, constantly, and in your dreams. 

“So you’ve never thought about it?”

All the time, constantly, sometimes in your dreams. 

“I have.”

“Then what do you think I look like?” 

Of course you’d thought about it, it’s hard to not wonder what the best sex of your life looks like under his helmet. You didn’t want him to actually take it off of course, you understand how important it is to him but your mind is allowed to wander. And you can’t help but hope that he at least takes it off to use that stupid mouth of his at some point, even if you can’t look. 

“Well… I always assumed brunette, even before getting confirmation. I don’t know, sharp features? Clipped short hair, unruly facial hair? I can never figure out your eyes though, I just can’t picture them.” 

He sits on it for a moment. 

“They’re brown.” 

That suits him. He seems like he would have soft, warm eyes that could turn cold and deadly in an instant. 

“That doesn’t count as my question by the way.” You snap at him, trying to relieve the intimate tension that’s suddenly settled between you. 

“Of course not.”

“How many bounties have you caught?” 

“I don’t keep track.”

“That’s not an answer.” You huff at him as you roll your eyes. 

“Fine.” He takes a moment as he thinks about it before you hear the familiar crackle of the modulator. “All of them.” 

Okay he’s got to be doing that on purpose. That low voice where he acts all serious, you want to call him out for it but it goes straight to your pussy and if you say something somehow he’ll end up finding out so why bother. 

“What’s your favorite color?” He sounds so genuinely interested when he asks you things like this. It breaks your heart every time because no one else ever seemed to care so much.

“I don’t have one.”

“We’re really on a hot streak of not answering the questions princess.” He tilts his head to the side.

“It used to be blue. Now I don’t have one.”

His helmet straightens up and he’s silent for a beat. You have to pray he isn’t giving you a look of pity under there. 

“How about for now it’s green. We can share a favorite color until you get a new one.”

It’s hard to remember that you’re just friends when he says things like that.

You should say no. Say it’s purple now, or orange, or anything else. 

But green is growing on you. 

Why is this dumb game so much more serious this time around? 

“Why is your favorite color green?” Your voice has lost its teasing edge, only sincerity remains. 

He’s silent again. 

“I knew a kid a while back who liked green.”

There’s something new. 

You can’t place the tone he has now.

It’s almost… sad . It makes you want to stand up and walk over to him, take his helmet in your hands and tell him he’s okay. Only for a second though because of course he has to ask a question that completely pulls you from the moment. 

“When did you know you wanted me?”

Presumptuous. Either he really wants to change the subject or he really wants to win. 

He’s leaning forward again and it makes you want to slap the stupid helmet. You decide against it, you’d only end up hurting yourself in that situation. 

“I’m not sure.” You puff out your chest slightly as you say it. 

“So you pass?” 

“No.” Shit, okay, do you even know the answer? “Maybe… the last time we played the game? I’m not sure.” 

“Good enough for me.” It’s annoying how satisfied with himself he sounds. 

“Was I your first time?” You don’t know why you ask it, you’re almost certain you weren’t because he shouldn’t have been that good his first time. Maybe you just want to knock him down a peg. It makes him scoff.

“Was I not up to your standard?” 

“It’s not your turn.” You try to sound indifferent when you say it. 

“Is this really how you want to play this game princess? Because I can make this a lot harder on you if it is.” His voice somehow manages to get lower, Maker, he’s the worst.

“Are you passing?” Is all you say as you straighten up in your little nook. He seems to almost mirror you as he sits up in his chair.

“No. You were not my first.” This time when you don’t bother trying to hide your smug smile at his response, it’s nice to for once feel like you’ve got the upper hand on him.

“Was I the best you’ve ever had?” 

Well it was nice to have the upper hand for fifteen seconds. 

“You know no one wants to ever hear the answer to that question.” 

“I do.” 

Of course you do.

“Pass.” You really shouldn’t but it’s best to not give him the satisfaction of the truth.

“You know that’s basically an answer in itself. I’m willing to let you un-pass this one if you say it.” Gods you’re gonna kill him, after you win and fuck his brains out. Then you’re gonna kill him.

“I said pass.” 

“Okay princess.”

Why is he still so hot? He’s too nice and he’s hot, he’s an over confident dick and he’s hot. He should be studied at this point. You can’t help but ask a question for your own personal imagination of him now that he’s got you all riled up. 

“How old are you?” 

“I’m not sure. I stopped keeping track when I took the creed, somewhere in my late thirties probably.”

“You don’t know your own birthday?” 

“No.”

That shouldn’t make you as sad as it does. You get over it pretty quickly though when he asks his next question. 

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

You could kill him. You didn’t think you’d be back to the point of plotting his untimely death so soon but you could kill him. You could also lie but you have to remind yourself that that would be a hollow win, it would always loom over you. No sense in putting it off. 

“Yes.” Might as well use his own question against him, even if it ends up embarrassing you if he says no. “Do you? Ever think about me?” You would give anything to sound less timid at that moment. 

“Often.”

Maker, is this your punishment for cheating on your husband? The agonizing temptation of the man before you?

“Do you ever think about Kodo?” Oh he’s sick. But right, his tone indicates that he already knows the answer to his question.

“No.” It’s barely above a whisper. “Why were you acting so weird this morning?” You’ve all but given up your little plot at this point, you’re pretty sure you’ll be able to convince him with or without the win at some point later. 

“Weird?” 

“You were being all cordial and polite. It was weird.” You’re still whispering as he scoffs.

“Pass.”

“Oh come on.” You didn’t often beg for a follow up during this game but you were desperate to know, especially if he didn’t want you to know. 

“I’ll tell you if you let me win.”

Hmm. That’s not an easy choice but you’re losing so why not just let him have it, maybe tonight you could try inviting him in again. 

“Fine. You win, now tell me. Why were you acting off?” You cross your arms as you glare at him.

“For the same reason you chose to play the game.”

“What?”

Oh. 

Oh.

He was trying to seduce you.

He’s good. It’s infuriating how good he continues to be at this. He keeps winning at this whole sexual chess game you’ve been playing. You don’t have time to mock him for being so theatrical about this whole thing because he’s standing and in the blink of an eye he’s in front of you, leaning down and grabbing the bottom of your skirt, lifting it up to your seat.

“I win.” His voice is low and husky and it doesn’t even seem like he’s basking in his victory all that much because he’s too busy collecting the layers of your dress and holding them in place up at your hips. You don’t have a lot of time to process what’s going on as one of his hands is gripping your jaw. “Is it okay if I cash in my prize now?” He’s asking for permission and honestly all you can do is dumbly nod as he grabs your hips and roughly pulls you by the waist of your dress so your ass is barely hanging off the edge of the reading nook, one of his hands comes up to your mouth and he’s tapping his pointer and middle finger on your bottom lip. “Open.” 

You should be snippier with him. 

You want to be. You want desperately for him to not be in charge all the time. (Of course you do want him to be in charge some of the time but that’s besides the point.)

And you’re getting what you want so what’s the point of fighting now. You open your mouth and he slides his fingers past your teeth, not far enough to make you gag but enough to fill your mouth with the material. 

Metal, gunpowder, leather. 

It’s not all that unpleasant, especially since he’s slotting himself between your legs now. 

“Bite down.” You furrow your brows but gently bite and he pulls his hand free, keeping his glove between your teeth. “Keep that there, okay sarad? Nod if you understand.” 

What a prick. Talking down to you like that, if it didn’t make you so wet you’d spit his glove back in his face. 

Instead you nod, because afterall you’re only human and you have needs. 

“Good girl.” His condescending tone is infuriating and if you weren’t so horribly turned on by it you’d kick him where it hurts but his ungloved hand is unzipping his flight suit at the crotch so you decide to let this one slide. “Hold your skirt up for me, cyar’ika.” He mutters out as he manages to free his cock from his pants, already standing at attention, fully erect. 

It’s enough to have you tragically drooling at the sight of a man who wants you so badly he needs no time to prepare himself. 

To the best of your ability you grip the edges of your skirt up for him as his still gloved hand reaches under all of the tulle, fishing around for a moment until he finds the hem of your panties, shoving them down to your ankles as you let out a small groan into his glove. His still gloved hand is spreading your thighs as he slowly strokes himself with his other hand, once you’re seemingly exactly how he wants you you can faintly hear a sharp inhale as he takes in the sight of you staring up at him. 

“Cyare…” He mumbles as he switches his hands, bringing his bare hand between your legs. 

You shouldn’t whine the way you do. You wish you could have held it back but you’re already a mess just in anticipation of him and you just pray to the gods that the glove muffles the majority of it. Of course it doesn’t. Because he lets out a gravely laugh. 

“What’s wrong sarad?” His tone is not unkind but it is sarcastic as you feel his fingernails lightly scraping at your inner thigh. You can nearly see his confused look through the Beskar as he takes a moment to contemplate before he brings his gloved hand back between your legs as you nod pathetically. “Is this what you wanted? I thought you thought my gloves were stupid princess?” 

The tough leather on his fingertips is ever so slightly dragging through your seam as you let your head fall back. He hums in approval as he brings his bare hand back to his cock, jerking himself off gradually as he sinks a finger into your dripping cunt. 

No sense in maintaining any of your pride because the sensation forces an obscene groan out of you, accompanied by the lewd squelching sound as he withdrawals the single digit before sliding it back in. 

His fingers had already filled you so exquisitely, with the added thickness of the gloves you were pretty sure you died and went to heaven. He doesn’t wait long before he adds a second finger and honestly you’re pretty sure you can’t physically take a third as he slams them in and out of you brutally, he doesn’t give you anytime to catch your breath as he pulls them out almost entirely before sliding them home, down to the knuckle. 

You’re not sure where to look, there’s a lot going on right now and yes you had wanted this terribly but you didn’t think he’d give it to you so suddenly and you’re feeling a lot of things right now. 

You settle your eyes on his length. That perfect pretty cock of his. He’s matching the rhythm of his strokes to the rhythm of his other hand. Maker, you don’t deserve the show he’s putting on for you as he lets out quiet grunts, staring down at you. You let out a particularly loud whine as you feel his fingers curl ever so slightly.

“I love those pretty little noises you make but you have to be quiet mesh’la.” His hand briefly comes up to your mouth to shove more of the glove past your teeth as you whine softly. “If you can’t be quiet I’ll have to stop, do you understand?” 

He pulls his fingers from you, wiping his glove on the inside of your dress as you let out a small cry at the loss of contact, it makes him click his tongue. 

“Be a good girl okay? I know this is what you wanted, is that why you wore this? So I’d fuck you like the slut you are? All you had to do was ask, I don’t care all that much about your rules. But we can’t have anyone walking in so I need you to quiet down.” He’s lining the weeping pink tip of his cock up at your entrance so you swallow the moan threatening to burst from your throat.

You still aren’t used to how talkative he is during sex. Sure he talks to you but never like this. Most of the time he only ever says what he needs to to get under your skin and then he’s done. But when you’re like this, it’s like he can’t stop the words that fall past the modulator. 

He’s slower this time. The first time, he had fucked you like he would never get a chance to touch you again. Animalistic and mercilessly. Now it’s like he’s taking the time to savor you entirely. 

You want to spit the glove out and beg him to just fuck you without caution but you’re certain he would just go slower if you did that. Or worse, stop entirely. So you bite down on the glove and grit your teeth as he continues at his agonizingly slow pace, lazily shoving himself into your tight hole, inch by inch. He takes his time, dragging it out, he’s barely halfway in and he’s panting, his hand squeezing the still fresh bruises under your dress. 

Before you can stop him he starts pulling out again, you’re unable to fend off the meek whine that happens as he starts shallowly slow fucking you, never pushing himself more than a few inches in. It’s got you thrashing as he pins you down in place, your cunt milking the head of his cock. Your hands abandoning your skirt to hold onto his forearms for support .

His gloved hand came down with a smack on your inner thigh that has you keening as he starts massaging the red mark, spreading your legs a little wider. His thumb began rubbing rough circles against your clit. Just fast enough to make you squirm but not fast enough to push you over the edge. You can tell by the hoarse laughter that comes between his grunts that he’s doing this on purpose. Not fucking you deep enough to hit the spot that he know’s you’re hopelessly trying to push it against.

“Man-ooh” You spit out past the glove. You point your toes to try and get some traction on the ground. Struggling to drive him deeper into you, he responds with a harsh slap to your clit that has you jolting backwards against the window. 

“Ah ah, I thought I told you to be good. Good girls stay quiet.” He pushes his thumb down against your bud, applying pressure but holding it torturously still. 

“Pleath-” Is all you can manage to mumble out past the leather, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, as you try to writhe under his grip, anything to get him deeper inside you but he holds you in place as he impales you on his length.

“Please? Good girls don’t beg until they’re told to sarad.” He rocks his hips forward as he continues to mock you. 

It’s a real shame he knows how to work you up so easily. You’d love to slap that stupid tone out of his voice and tell him to fuck you proper but there’s something about the pure domination that he exudes the moment he decides he wants you. It’s intoxicating. You’re drunk on him when he gets like this, the primal needs to submit to him in the moment is overwhelming. He delivers another slap to your clit to get your attention that has you letting out a muffled yelp.

“Are you paying attention, mesh’la?” His voice is so low and condescending and it makes you tighten around him earning you a growl from the Mandalorian. “You like it when I treat you like this huh?” He gives you another snap of his hips, just enough to kiss that spot with his cockhead. 

You can feel a moan bubbling in your throat but bite it back, trying to stay silent, opting for a nod instead. 

“Good girl. Now say you’re sorry princess.” One of his hands is splayed out on your thigh, holding you spread open for him as the other hungrily gropes at your chest over your bodice. 

You close your eyes as your head leans back to avoid letting him see the crimson that is creeping up your face. You’ve come this far, why draw the line here.

“Thowwy” You should probably feel more shame. You’re the princess of a very important planet yet you’re here, in the library, being fucked sensless by a man who is notably not your husband, mumbling apologies through a gag. It’s easy to forget all that though because your pathetic sorry earns you a patronizing pat on the head, which subsequently results in a rush of heat between your legs. 

You might be a bad person for getting off on this.

Maybe think about that later, right now you’re too busy servicing the bodyguard your husband hired. 

“See, that’s better.” He brings his thumb up to swipe at your bottom lip, taking in the beads of drool before bringing it back to your clit. “Good girls get rewarded.” He snaps his hips forward, pushing just a little deeper. Finally letting the blunt head of his cock rest against that sensitive spot inside of you. 

It’s like he knows your body better than you do. It’s a little aggravating but it’s hard to be mad when he starts deliberately slamming himself against that spot. Matching his ministrations on your clit to his thrusts which has your entire body tensing as that wire in your core threatens to snap.  

You have autonomy. And he’s just a self-righteous asshole who is devastatingly good at sex. He likes to remind you of the fact that you don’t technically have the authority to dismiss him but you’re pretty sure you’re still his boss.

So why are you staring up at him now with pleading eyes as he fucks you, your eyes darting between him and the leather sticking out from your lips. You could spit it out, but instead you wait until his thrusts slow ever so slightly as he pulls the now soaked glove from your mouth, a line of drool going from it to your lips. 

“What is it, copikla?” He says it so derisively that you don’t need a translation to tell you he’s teasing you. 

Okay.

Normally you wouldn’t do this. Not unless a guy explicitly asked for it and it was your only option. But you know that if you ask for permission he’ll probably just let you and you woke up pent up and then there was all the teasing and the heat is going to your head so you can’t stop the babbles that spill from your lips. 

“Can I cum Mando? Please let me cum I’m so close please.” Hearing yourself say those words is a little humiliating, (for an unrelated reason you’re sure you get wetter as you say them) but it seems to work because he picks up his pace as he plunges himself into you. There’s no hesitation as you plead with him.

“Elek olaror sarad’ika. Cum for me.” His voice is a low growl as he holds your hips, pulling you down against him to push himself deeper into you as his thumb rolls over your clit just so. Everything combined with the Mando’a he seemingly can’t stop speaking has your eyes rolling back as you feel your walls clamping down on him, strangling his cock as you climax, your vision going a sharp white for a moment, his hand comes up just fast enough to muffle the cry that escapes your throat. Simultaneously he slips out of you, shooting his load onto your swollen soaked pussy.

You’re both just panting for a moment as you come down from your respective orgasms. He recovers first as he shoves himself back into his pants before kneeling down in front of you, pulling your panties up, keeping his cum on your skin. 

It’s filthy. The thought of spending the rest of the day with his seed between your legs is hot enough to hopefully keep you satisfied for a few more days than last time. 

Your head is still tilted back, resting against the window as your chest heaves. You barely even register the hiss of air, or the gentle kiss that’s placed against your inner thigh. 

Soft. His lips are soft, not chapped like you’d thought they’d be, with just a little bit of stubble. 

By the time you look down at him his helmet is back in place and you aren’t even sure it really happened. He straightens the layers on your skirt and stands up, his still ungloved hand brushes your hair back as he caresses your face.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” He’s back to that soft tone he uses only for you and you scowl at him.

“You’re mean during sex.” 

It’s nice to hear him laugh in earnest. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear.

“I think you like it.”

“Maybe.”

“Can I get you anything princess?” There it is again. That tone where he makes it sound like an endearment.

You don’t really need anything but you do have something you need to do so you give him a distraction.

“Could I convince you to get me some water?” 

“There isn’t a lot you couldn’t convince me of.” 

It’s things like that that make it hard to remember this is a platonic arrangement. But he’s already walking to the door so you rush to find some stationary and you write out everything you need before stepping out into the hall. No sign of Mando so you whisper-yell Leodall’s name. It’s like he appears out of thin air, you should figure out how he does that at some point if you’re gonna keep having secret sexual relations. That isn’t your mission right now though so you hand him the paper and dismiss him before hurrying back into the library. Patiently awaiting Mando’s return. 

As you sit back in the nook you rest your head on the adjacent book shelf. 

Two days. 

You’ve had your rules for two days. So far you’ve broken a rule every day you’ve had them. 

Everyone makes mistakes.

You just won’t break any more rules from this point forward. 

“…All you had to do was ask, I don’t care all that much about your rules.”

That’s what he had said.

This is Purely Stress Relief. 

Maybe you can keep breaking one rule. 

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[beskarandblasters]

Me and My Husband

Chapter Three: Nobody Fucks Like Me

Married!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Series Masterlist | Series Playlist

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Synopsis: Din Djarin is doing what any typical Mandalorian would be doing after reclaiming Mandalore, finding a riduur and settling down. He’s still a member of the Guild on Nevarro, taking bounties here and there to support his new family. But when he meets you while you’re working the front desk at an inn on Naboo, he finds himself hooked, feeling like he’s found something new and exciting in his now mundane life. How long can he keep up appearances with his riduur? And how long can he keep his little secret with you?

Series warnings: reader is able-bodied, set post season 3, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), some liberties taken with Mandalorian culture/weddings/marriages, infidelity, eventual smut (chapter two!), switches between Reader and Din's POV, no use of y/n

Chapter summary: Din finds himself unable to stop thinking about you so he tells his riduur he's leaving for another bounty, but instead he goes to Naboo to look for you.

Word count: 4.1k

Chapter warnings: Reader does not know Din's name yet, Din has mediocre sex with his riduur, lying, paranoia, pet names, Mandalorian words/phrases (translations included after), fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie

Din

The guilt is eating Din alive. Every time he looks at his riduur’s helmet, let alone her face, he’s consumed with a nauseous feeling, the guilt threatening to force its way out of his throat and speak itself into existence. He hasn’t told a soul about you. He can’t. This secret is too precious; too delicate. He’s aching to see you, but he’s also scared of how hard he’s beginning to fall for you. Sure he’s had flings here and there. But none of those even came close to the feelings he has for you. 

It’s been nine rotations since he last saw you, not counting the time it took him to get to Mandalore from Naboo with a quick pit stop to Nevarro. He had to stop at the market and pick up some supplies. Gotta make his fake cover story of going after a bounty believable somehow. 

In his time away from you the Mandalorians have developed a way of sending and receiving transmissions that can penetrate the barrier of Mandalore’s atmosphere. Even though it’s a wonderful feat and extremely impressive on behalf of the Mandalorians, it’s just another obstacle Din has to deal with if he’s going to keep seeing you. Because now instead of just not expecting transmissions from May at all, he’ll receive them and it’ll be blatantly obvious he’s ignoring her. 

His need to see you outweighs his guilt. Nine rotations (and then some) is too long to be away from you. He wonders if you think about him in his absence. You have to, right? What if you didn’t think he was good enough? What if he was just a fling for you? He needs to know if you feel the same way. And he has to see you again.

But there’s also another problem he’s dealing with… May wants to have sex. And he’s been pushing it off for a while. They’ve been married for well over thirty rotations now. And typically Mandalorians have sex on their wedding night after seeing their riduur’s face for the first time. But May knew that Din was a little hesitant and rightfully so. The marriage was a tad rushed, a product of the peer pressure and pressure Din put on himself. Except now his excuses are running out and she’s getting antsy. 

“Din?” she asks softly while sitting at the kitchen table. 

He doesn’t have to ask what, he already knows what this is about. They just got done eating dinner, their helmets set on the edge of the table perched side by side. Grogu’s just about ready to fall asleep, nodding off while he sits in May’s lap. 

“Do you think tonight could be the night?”

He wants to let out a deep sigh but he knows that will just hurt her feelings. He’s not in love with her but he also doesn’t want any harm to come her way. 

“Yes, May,” he responds, words coming out soft and hesitant, as if you’re somewhere around him in earshot, listening to his promise to fuck another woman. 

“Really?” she asks, eyes lighting up. 

Her hand is resting on the table. He reaches out and pats it lightly, responding with, “Mhm. Let’s get him down for bed first.”

She gets up from her seat, Grogu scooped up into her arms and resting against her chest. He’s fast asleep now. Putting him down for bed will take no time at all. Meaning less time to waste before… the act. Maker, he’s messed up. What kind of man actively avoids sex with his new riduur?

They’re in their bedroom now, meticulously removing their armor and stripping down to their flight suits. The thing is… he’s not nervous about what she’s going to think of his naked form or his cock. He only cares what you think of him. But he also knows that May is nervous about what he thinks of her. And if he responds with a less-than-enthusiastic reaction it’ll eat away at her confidence; her self-image. She is pledging herself to him in the most raw, unfiltered, and honest way she can. The least he can do is try to act like she’s doing it for him. And deep down he’s hoping that having sex with May will unlock the spark within him; that he’ll become so in love and so devoted to her that he’ll forget all about you. The hopeful part of him wants to believe this to be true but the cynical part of him knows that nothing will compare to you. And he hasn’t even seen all of you yet or received everything you have to offer him. 

She starts taking off her flight suit before Din does. He realizes he should follow suit and begins taking his off. And before he knows it they’re standing in front of each other completely naked and open to the other person. Her eyes scan his form, taking in every scar, freckle, and line. He does the same for her not because he wants to, but because he’s just following her lead. 

“You’re beautiful, Din,” she says, stepping closer. Her eyes move down to his left bicep where he has a simple tattoo, a black ring encircling his arm, about the width of his pointer finger and middle finger together. 

“You, too, May,” he gulps. 

“When did you get this? she asks, running her thumb over the inked skin. Her touch triggers goosebumps across his flesh, and not in a good way.

“A long time ago," he replies, offering her nothing more.

“Are you nervous?” she asks. 

“A little,” he says, avoiding her eyes. 

“Don’t be,” she says, cupping his face with her hand, “This is what we’re supposed to do.”

“I know,” he responds, closing his eyes. 

All he can do is pray to the Maker that this doesn’t last long. 

She’s shorter than him so she stands on her tiptoes to kiss him. At first, it’s chaste and quick but he puts more effort in and starts to kiss her back. His hands are at his sides and she has to pull back and whisper “Hold me.”

And he hesitantly does, moving his hands ever so slowly towards her back. He knows she’s expecting him to take the lead so he pushes against her lightly, directing her towards the bed. She falls back onto the bed, lying down and spreading her legs apart for him. He kneels between her thighs, bringing his fingers to his mouth and moistening them. He could eat her out right now but he wants your cunt to be the one he tastes first, not hers. He slides one finger inside, trying his hardest to not rush through fingering her. 

Her eyes close and her breathing starts to pick up. “More,” she softly moans. 

He slides another finger in, curling it against her walls but also while zoning out. He mindlessly fingers her until she cums. He’s glad it’s over but he also knows that she’s going to ask to do something for him; something he’s just not in the mood for. 

He pulls his fingers out of her and they’re soaked. But he just finds himself thinking about his exact situation with you. He wipes his fingers on his thigh while her eyes are still closed so she can’t see what he did. 

“Did you want me to… you know… do anything for you?” she asks, sitting a little and resting on her elbows.

“No, I’m okay,” he says, shaking his head.

He spits in his hand and strokes his cock, willing it to be completely hard already. Maker, why is this so hard for him? May’s not a bad-looking woman and she’s his riduur. Even if you weren’t part of the equation he would still be having a hard time doing this. But when he considers you, he finds himself doing mental gymnastics to get him in the right mindset for this. His cock cooperates with him though and he’s hard (enough) finally. 

He leans forward and aligns himself with her entrance, thrusting into her slowly. She gasps at the sensation of being filled by him. They’re face to face, looking into each other’s eyes. She’s looking at him with all of the love and admiration in the entire galaxy, gazing into the eyes of her future. While he has to force himself to keep his eyes open and not imagine it’s you instead. He feels her tighten around his cock, she’s going to cum soon. At least it’ll finally be over soon. With one last thrust of his hips into her she cums around him, her walls contracting and releasing intensely before slowing down to a rhythmic pattern. He pulls out and cums. But it’s not fulfilling in the slightest, just a biological reaction, nothing emotional about it. 

He pulls out of her, resting by her side. She rolls over to face him, a hand tracing up and down his bicep. Her pupils are blown wide and she’s got the look of love in her eye. 

“Did you enjoy that?” she asks sweetly.

“Of course.”

“Up for a round two?”

“I’m getting tired.”

“No worries.”

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum (I love you),” she whispers. 

He repeats the phrase back to her, not because he feels it, of course. But out of obligation; to keep up appearances. He falls asleep on his back, with May pressed up against him. The guilt weighs heavy on his mind, feeling that somehow he has betrayed you.

-

In the morning when they wake up May sits up and asks, “When do you think you’ll head out for your next bounty? I think we need some things from the market on Nevarro.”

He tries not to sound too excited when he responds. 

“I can go today if you’d like.”

“That’s fine with me,” she says, getting up out of bed and starting to put her flight suit back on. 

“I promised Bo-Katan I’d help her map out where the new docking yards and storage houses are going to go,” she continues while attaching her armor. 

“You’re still good to watch Grogu, right?” he asks, sitting at the edge of the bed. 

“Of course,” she says, turning to face him with all of her armor on except for her helmet.

“How many times do I have to tell you? He’s our son. I’m not “watching” him. I’m taking care of him like a mother would.”

“You’re right,” Din says curtly, standing up to put his flight suit on. 

“I’m heading out now. Bring him to Bo-Katan’s for me?” she says, standing in the doorway. 

“Yes, once I’m finished preparing for the trip.”

“See you soon!” she calls over her shoulder. She grabs her helmet from the kitchen table and heads out. 

He lets out a sigh once she’s gone. At least he’ll get to have a little bit of alone time with his son before he leaves. He finishes putting his armor on and heads into Grogu’s room, getting him out of his sleeping pod. He babbles happily when he sees Din and it makes Din’s heart pang with joy. He could do this, Din thinks to himself. He could do this whole settling down on Mandalore thing if it were just him and Grogu, maybe even just the two of them on Nevarro together. But he got too carried away following what others were doing and felt the need to fit in; felt the need to devote himself to his creed and his people. Some days when he’s feeling particularly sour he questions if all this is worth it, giving up his free will to devote himself to a greater good. But he quickly puts that thought out of his mind. He owes his life to the Mandalorians, to the Children of the Watch. And to be anything but grateful for them would be against his character. 

He scoops Grogu into his arms and takes him into the kitchen, feeding him breakfast from what’s left over from his last trip to Nevarro. The Mandalorians have been getting better at farming in the barren climate that is Mandalore so if Din is gone for a while on his next trip to see you he won’t feel too guilty, hopefully. 

After breakfast is finished Din puts on his helmet and takes Grogu to the Razor Crest in his pouch, enjoying some quality time with his son before leaving him for a while again. He makes sure he has enough supplies and rations for his trip and then heads back into the village to bring Grogu to Bo-Katan’s house. Her house is a mirror image of his and May’s house; a utilitarian house made of stone. In fact, the whole village is made up of houses like that. The Mandalorians are ones for function, not so much style. But some Mandalorians painted small designs that matched the color of their armor or their clan signets. Din hasn’t gotten around to doing theirs yet, figuring May would take it upon herself to. 

May and Bo-Katan are talking outside and Din swears for a second they’re talking about him. But that’s probably just his paranoia coming through. May has no reason to not believe Din’s stories about heading out for bounties. It’s not a total lie. He’s just leaving out the parts that include you and rightfully so. You’re Din’s little secret; his guilty pleasure. He doesn’t even want to think about the day when your relationship is brought to light, because if he plays his cards right that won’t happen at all. 

“Heading out again, Din?” Bo-Katan asks. 

“Mhm. Back to Nevarro to collect another job.”

“Who knew that being a member of the Guild while living here could be so… prosperous,” she continues. 

“It’s been great!” May chimes in, “He’s been such a great provider for our family.”

“I’m glad it’s all working out. Especially since we can send and receive transmissions now. You two will be able to keep in touch while he’s gone.”

“You’re right. In fact, while I was preparing the ship, I already sent a transmission to Karga. Got two jobs waiting for me.”

“That’s my hardworking riduur!” May cheerfully exclaims. 

How awkward for Din. 

“It’s nice to see you two so happy,” Bo-Katan smiles as Din passes off Grogu to May. 

“You better get going. Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” May says as she takes Grogu in her arms.

Din repeats the phrase back to her, his words coming out stiff and unconvincing. Bo-Katan raises an eyebrow at him, looking at him like she can see the nervous look on his face under the helmet. He says his goodbyes quickly, turning and heading back to the ship. If they weren’t talking about him before they’re surely talking about him now. Whatever, he can’t think about that now. His obligations to May are satisfied for the moment and now he gets to focus on you. 

He takes off for Naboo, leaving Mandalore’s treacherous atmosphere and trying to not think about when he’ll receive a transmission from May, since that’s a thing he has to worry about now. 

In the few rotations it takes to get to Naboo he follows a certain routine; sleeping, eating rations, making sure the Crest is still following the correct path, and masturbating to thoughts of you of course. In his cot under the dim light of the Crest and the blue haze of hyperspace, he thinks of you and what you would be doing if you were here right now with him. He tries not to think about how insane it is that he’s crossing the galaxy for sex but he also knows that this could be more than just sex. If he gets the chance to know you that is. 

Eventually, his jaunt across space comes to an end and the grassy knolls and the vast swamps of Naboo are coming into view. The sun is starting to set and the entire landscape is cast in an amber glow. Hopefully, you’re working since that’s where Din knows to look for you first. But he also hopes you’ll be getting off of work soon and he can have you all to himself. 

Now that he knows where the Star-Lux is, he just parks on that side of Theed, making his walk to you rather brief. The plains turn into stone-covered streets beneath his feet and soon enough he’s standing in front of the Star-Lux. He takes a deep breath, hoping you’re at the front desk and heads inside. 

You 

You’re leaning against the front desk, resting your head on your hand, tapping your fingers along the stone countertop, and glancing back and forth at the clock. You close your eyes, willing the time to go by faster. The door opens and you sense someone coming towards the desk quickly. You think it’s an angry customer, so you open your eyes and brace yourself. But instead it’s the person you want to see most, Mando. 

He rests his elbows on the desk, reaching for your hand and locking his visor onto your eyes. 

“I need a room,” he says, his tone urgent. 

“S-Sure. Anything for you,” you say, glancing down at your data pad. 

“Do you get off soon?” he asks, still holding your hand. 

“In about thirty minutes.”

“Meet me in my room when you’re done?” he says, hope in his voice.

“Do you even have to ask?” you respond, complete with a sly grin. 

“Let me get set up,” you continue, letting go of his hand to set up his reservation. 

“How much?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Really?”

“Mhm. Room 115,” you say, handing him his key card. 

“Thirty minutes?” he asks, taking the card in his hand. 

“Thirty minutes.”

His gaze lingers on you for just a moment before he sets off down the hallway. Man if time wasn’t moving slow as hell before it sure is now. You know exactly what’s going to happen as soon as you enter that room and you can’t wait. Not even just to be fucked by him but also to lay with him, enjoy his company, and ask him questions. You’ve been reading about the Mandalorians and their culture in the library since you last saw him but it’s different to learn about it all from the real source. 

After what feels like hours Maree shows up and trades places with you. You can’t run to Mando’s door fast enough. As soon as you knock he opens the door, grabbing you by the waist and pulling you inside. The door closes behind you and he presses you up against it, keeping his hands on your waist and bringing his helmet beside your ear.

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” he confesses. 

“I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you,” you giggle. 

He pulls you over to the bed, pushing you down lightly. He hikes up the skirt of your dress and you spread your legs for him. He starts to undress you, taking off each of your shoes, pulling off each of your stockings, and finally hooking his fingers around your panties and sliding them off. He crouches down on the bed, resting on his arms and looking at your cunt; looking at how wet it already is. 

“I wish I could taste it, but I can’t.”

“You’re a member of the Children of the Watch, aren’t you?” you ask, sitting up a tad and resting on your elbows.

“How did you know?”

“I read about Mandalorians in the library…  And I learned what mesh’la means,” you smirk.

“I meant it,” he says, visor meeting your eyes again. You feel your cheeks heat up.

He trails two fingers up and down your entrance, the feeling ever so light; so teasing. You whine in response and he just chuckles.

“I’m taking my time with you.”

“Yeah?” you ask, resting on your back again.

“Mhm. Now that I have you in a bed, not in some alley.”

He slides one finger in, extra slow, curling it against your walls. He adds a second and then removes both of them quickly, holding his hand up. He rubs his thumb against his index and middle fingers before drawing his thumb back and watching your wetness stretch and follow the movement.

“You’re so wet,” he says softly, “So wet for me.” Almost like he’s in disbelief that you got this wet just for him. When in reality you can’t believe he wants you so bad, so bad that he’s crossing the galaxy for you.

“Please, I can’t wait any longer,” you whine. 

And he obliges, returning his fingers inside you and leaning forward so his helmet is by your face. He watches you intently, watching the way your face changes as you get closer. He curls his fingers against your g-spot and rubs his thumb around your clit. Your mouth falls into a soft O, your pleasure coming to a head. The floodgates are threatening to burst. 

“I’m gonna cum,” you breathe out. 

“Cum for me, cyar’ika (sweetheart).”

And you do. Your walls flutter around his fingers, slicking his glove completely. His visor leaves your face for a split second to look down at the way your cunt grips his fingers before looking back at you. You wish you could see him; see the face of the man who’s making you feel heavenly. But there’s also something about not seeing his face that’s exhilarating and intriguing. 

He pulls his fingers from you when you’re done coming. Once you’ve caught your breath you say, “Let me take care of you.”

“Please,” he says quickly, not missing a beat.

You sink to the floor and he sits at the edge of the bed. His cock is already pitching a tent in his flight suit, begging to be freed. You take it out, holding his length in your hand and getting a better look at it now that you’re face to face with it. The size is intimidating and you can’t believe you’ve already had it inside you. 

You start by stroking it softly, now getting to take your time with him. He lets out a groan from under the helmet. And then ever so slowly you swirl your tongue around the tip, repeating that a few times before taking him in your mouth. You bob your head up and down all while stroking the base. 

“Kriff,” he curses under his breath.

One of his hands cups your cheek as you suck him off and his visor is locked on you. You cup his balls as you start to suck harder, feeling him twitch inside your mouth. He must be getting close.

He stops you, pulling himself out of your mouth and saying, “I need you. Now.”

You nod and rise from the floor, pulling off your dress over your head. You lay down, spreading your legs for him once again. He situates himself between your thighs, running a hand along your outline and looking at your naked form. And you get to look directly at him this time, instead of being pressed up against the wall. 

Wasting not another second, he thrusts into you, hooking his arms around your thighs and leaning forward. He folds you in half, driving his cock into you further. With this new angle, he hits places you never even thought possible, his cock spitting you in half with his girth. 

“Mando, I'm gonna cum,” you whine. 

“Soak my cock, mesh’la.”

With one last slam of his hips, you’re coming undone around him, shockwaves of pleasure originating at your core and spreading outwards. Your back arches and tears spring in the corners of your eyes as you ride out your high, feeling the intense peaks and valleys, before slowing to a soft ebb and flow. Mando lets out a guttural moan, helmet thrown back in pleasure. He cums, too, keeping the head of his cock flush against your cervix as he spills his cum inside you. 

He pulls out of you, collapsing on the bed next to you and immediately pulling you into him. You’re both silent for a moment, unsure of what the next move is.

“I do have the place for the night…”

“Are you asking me to stay over?” you tease, head resting on the cool breastplate. 

“…Yes.”

“Okay, again… Did you really think you had to ask?”

He chuckles, a hand running up and down your back, lulling you to sleep. 

“About that other thing I called you-”

“Already know what that means, too.”

Another chuckle. “Well then goodnight, cyar’ika,” he says, reaching over to turn off the lamp. 

“Goodnight, Mando.”

Chapter Four

End note: Ahhhh the lies get deeper and deeper!! As always let me know your thoughts🤍

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[luckbealincoln]

Best Kept Secret

chapter nine : shuk'la rules

THIS SERIES HAS BEEN MOVED AND RE-UPLOADED TO ANOTHER ACCOUNT. WHICH CAN BE FOUND HERE. THIS POST STILL EXISTS AS AN ARCHIVE BUT THIS ACCOUNT IS NO LONGER ACTIVE!!

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 5.6k

summary : you spend some time in the library with the mandalorian

warnings, etc. : language, p in v sex, fingering, sort of a glove kink situation that is not verbally expressed but is def there, slapping, def like dom/sub vibes but also not spoken on, sort of a dumbification situation, degradation and also praise

You need sex.

Normally you would be satisfied for quite some time after getting off but for some reason with Mando it was different. But it’s only been two days and you need more. 

Instead of taming the beast it’s like he let it out of its cage and now it’s running rampant. 

But you had to have your stupid rules.

Maybe you could just get rid of the second one. 

You pick up the book, flipping to the back cover, staring at those damned words.

This is Purely Stress Relief. 

What an idiot, in your stupid quest to make sure things stayed casual you were somehow denying yourself casual sex. Maybe you could just fake stress, or start a fight with him. No, he’d see right through that. You’re in a genuinely good mood after yesterday, you’ve got no reason to start shit with him.

But you need sex. 

And he’s sooo good at it. Annoyingly so. 

And you can’t just ask for it, because he’ll tease you about it. (Which probably wouldn’t be all that bad now that you think of it.) But you need him, terribly. You’re lying here in your closet bed, doing everything in your power to will away the ache between your thighs because you don’t have the time to deal with it yourself, Elaine and Lysa will be here at any minute. So you stuff your face in a pillow, and let yourself have a good long groan as you hear your bedroom doors open outside the closet. 

The closet doors fly open and Elaine steps in, grinning down at you. 

“Good morning ma’am, is everything alright? You’re normally awake by now, you must have had a long day yesterday.” She’s raising an eyebrow as you groan again. Bringing another pillow up to smash against your face. 

“I’m fine. Just tired.” You mumble into the cushion. She reaches down to tear the pillow from your hands, picking you up under your arms and lifting you to your feet. “Maker, you’re strong…” 

“I have to be to take care of you ma’am. Now, up. Time to dress.” She steps out and you follow her to the mirror as Lysa goes to find you a dress. 

“Something green.” You yell over your shoulder, maybe he’ll fuck you if you wear another green dress. Gods, you hope so. 

Okay, pull yourself together. You can’t be acting like this around him, he’ll use it to his advantage and you can’t let him get the upper hand on you, not when you’re in this state. Who knows what you’ll do or say to get him to touch you. 

    You zone out as they go through the usual routine of dressing you, the jade dress hugging your torso making you smile, maybe this will work. Once you’re all done up you take Elaine’s hand in yours.

“Thank you… seriously, you’re a miracle worker. You and Lysa have taken such good care of me.” You give her a warm smile and you're taken aback by the way she squints at you before returning the smile. 

“Thank you ma’am.”

That’s all she says as she steps back, looking you over once before nodding and taking Lysa’s hand before leaving. 

Weird.

You put it aside in your mind though because when they open the door you catch a glint of silver. You need to think fast, how are you going to seduce him? Gods, you're pathetic. Whatever. Just get out there, maybe actually seeing him will make this easier, the moment he starts being a jackass you’ll be able to resist him.

✩

It doesn’t work. 

He’s nice today. Uncharacteristically so, it’s actually off-putting. He had greeted you with a compliment on your dress, had walked you to the library with no complaints, no teasing, and no resistance. And had so kindly handed you the book you’d left off on last time, he had even opened it to the page you’d left off on before he sat across from the nook and opened his own book. 

What’s his angle here? You’re having a hard time focusing on your reading because now you’ve got to figure out what he’s plotting. 

Stern, protective, annoying, persistent, nice? The Mandalorian is a lot of things but he isn’t necessarily nice. 

He isn’t cruel by any means but it’s off putting to have him acting like this. Sadly it doesn’t make him any less attractive to you at this moment because you’re still imagining all the different ways you could lure him back to your chambers. Your thoughts are interrupted by the low hum of static that always comes before he speaks. 

“You seem distracted.” When you look up the helmet is staring at you and his book is closed. Kriff. 

“Nothing, just a little…” 

Horny?

“Bored.” 

“Mmm. Want to play that game? Might help alleviate some of the boredom?” He sets his book aside as he leans forward, elbows resting on his knees. You’re about to blow him off with some lame excuse so you can keep plotting on how to bed him but you’re struck with an idea. 

“Sure. What does the winner get?” 

“Is there anything in particular you want?” Predictable, you knew he wouldn’t pick one himself.

“Hmm… how about the winner gets to break one of the rules?” He leans back in the chair as he’s seemingly considering the offer.

“Which rule did you have in mind?” 

“None of the important ones, just the second one. The stress relief one. Winner gets to break it once, at a time of their choosing.” He doesn’t need to know that you plan on cashing it in immediately when you win.

“Sounds fair enough, same rules as last time? Pass three times and you lose?” There’s a much stronger hint of amusement in his voice this time around and suddenly you’re nervous he might actually try to win. “You can go first again if you’d like.” 

Might as well start with an almost guaranteed pass. 

“Last time we played you said you needed the credits from this job, why?” 

You sit and try to hold back a smug smile as you wait to hear his response but it never comes. He just sits there thinking. 

“And you can’t lie.” You eventually add, in case he was trying to come up with an answer. 

“I need a ship. I know someone on a different planet that I’d like to go see.” He says each word slowly and carefully like he’s trying to phrase it a certain way. It makes you furrow your brow. You don’t have time to ponder it for long though because he’s already moving on. “What did you buy from that woman yesterday?” Shit, you had wanted that to be a surprise for him. You could always just use a pass on this, you’d still have two more, you aren’t really all that private he’s just managed to pick out a very specific thing you don’t want to answer. 

“Pass. Did you eat the food I gave you?” You should probably be focusing on more hard hitting questions if you want to win but you are genuinely curious.

“Yes. I had half last night and half this morning.” He sounds almost sheepish when he says it, like he’s admitting defeat. You want to laugh but you’re worried if you do he won’t take food in the future. “Why do you wear those horrific dresses on the fifth day of each week?” 

Jerk. 

He is right though, they are horrific. And it’s a huge relief that he’s seemingly done putting on the creepy over the top polite act he had going on. 

“Blue is Kodo’s favorite color. They dress me in it on days where I see him.” He lets out a huff at your response. 

“That’s a stupid reason.” 

“Do you often take note of what colors I’m wearing?”

“Is that your question?”

“Yes.”

“Then yes, I do. Especially when it’s green. Did you wear that for me?” He nods at the jade gown you’re currently wearing.

“Is that your question?”

“Yes.” You silently wish he was sitting closer. 

“Yes. Do you like it?” 

“Is that your question?” He sounds like he’s grinning. 

“No. I just want to know.” 

“...Yes.” He takes a moment to just stare at you and that stupid heat is back in the library. “What’s your actual question?”

“Has anyone seen your face before?” You probably shouldn’t ask, it seems way too personal for how the game has been going so far but you’re in this to win it. 

“Yes.” 

Huh. You hadn’t expected an answer. And you definitely hadn’t expected that answer. 

“What do you think I look like?” 

You hadn’t expected that question either. 

“It’s a little arrogant of you to assume I ever think about you in my spare time.”

Or all the time, constantly, and in your dreams. 

“So you’ve never thought about it?”

All the time, constantly, sometimes in your dreams. 

“I have.”

“Then what do you think I look like?” 

Of course you’d thought about it, it’s hard to not wonder what the best sex of your life looks like under his helmet. You didn’t want him to actually take it off of course, you understand how important it is to him but your mind is allowed to wander. And you can’t help but hope that he at least takes it off to use that stupid mouth of his at some point, even if you can’t look. 

“Well… I always assumed brunette, even before getting confirmation. I don’t know, sharp features? Clipped short hair, unruly facial hair? I can never figure out your eyes though, I just can’t picture them.” 

He sits on it for a moment. 

“They’re brown.” 

That suits him. He seems like he would have soft, warm eyes that could turn cold and deadly in an instant. 

“That doesn’t count as my question by the way.” You snap at him, trying to relieve the intimate tension that’s suddenly settled between you. 

“Of course not.”

“How many bounties have you caught?” 

“I don’t keep track.”

“That’s not an answer.” You huff at him as you roll your eyes. 

“Fine.” He takes a moment as he thinks about it before you hear the familiar crackle of the modulator. “All of them.” 

Okay he’s got to be doing that on purpose. That low voice where he acts all serious, you want to call him out for it but it goes straight to your pussy and if you say something somehow he’ll end up finding out so why bother. 

“What’s your favorite color?” He sounds so genuinely interested when he asks you things like this. It breaks your heart every time because no one else ever seemed to care so much.

“I don’t have one.”

“We’re really on a hot streak of not answering the questions princess.” He tilts his head to the side.

“It used to be blue. Now I don’t have one.”

His helmet straightens up and he’s silent for a beat. You have to pray he isn’t giving you a look of pity under there. 

“How about for now it’s green. We can share a favorite color until you get a new one.”

It’s hard to remember that you’re just friends when he says things like that.

You should say no. Say it’s purple now, or orange, or anything else. 

But green is growing on you. 

Why is this dumb game so much more serious this time around? 

“Why is your favorite color green?” Your voice has lost its teasing edge, only sincerity remains. 

He’s silent again. 

“I knew a kid a while back who liked green.”

There’s something new. 

You can’t place the tone he has now.

It’s almost… sad . It makes you want to stand up and walk over to him, take his helmet in your hands and tell him he’s okay. Only for a second though because of course he has to ask a question that completely pulls you from the moment. 

“When did you know you wanted me?”

Presumptuous. Either he really wants to change the subject or he really wants to win. 

He’s leaning forward again and it makes you want to slap the stupid helmet. You decide against it, you’d only end up hurting yourself in that situation. 

“I’m not sure.” You puff out your chest slightly as you say it. 

“So you pass?” 

“No.” Shit, okay, do you even know the answer? “Maybe… the last time we played the game? I’m not sure.” 

“Good enough for me.” It’s annoying how satisfied with himself he sounds. 

“Was I your first time?” You don’t know why you ask it, you’re almost certain you weren’t because he shouldn’t have been that good his first time. Maybe you just want to knock him down a peg. It makes him scoff.

“Was I not up to your standard?” 

“It’s not your turn.” You try to sound indifferent when you say it. 

“Is this really how you want to play this game princess? Because I can make this a lot harder on you if it is.” His voice somehow manages to get lower, Maker, he’s the worst.

“Are you passing?” Is all you say as you straighten up in your little nook. He seems to almost mirror you as he sits up in his chair.

“No. You were not my first.” This time when you don’t bother trying to hide your smug smile at his response, it’s nice to for once feel like you’ve got the upper hand on him.

“Was I the best you’ve ever had?” 

Well it was nice to have the upper hand for fifteen seconds. 

“You know no one wants to ever hear the answer to that question.” 

“I do.” 

Of course you do.

“Pass.” You really shouldn’t but it’s best to not give him the satisfaction of the truth.

“You know that’s basically an answer in itself. I’m willing to let you un-pass this one if you say it.” Gods you’re gonna kill him, after you win and fuck his brains out. Then you’re gonna kill him.

“I said pass.” 

“Okay princess.”

Why is he still so hot? He’s too nice and he’s hot, he’s an over confident dick and he’s hot. He should be studied at this point. You can’t help but ask a question for your own personal imagination of him now that he’s got you all riled up. 

“How old are you?” 

“I’m not sure. I stopped keeping track when I took the creed, somewhere in my late thirties probably.”

“You don’t know your own birthday?” 

“No.”

That shouldn’t make you as sad as it does. You get over it pretty quickly though when he asks his next question. 

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

You could kill him. You didn’t think you’d be back to the point of plotting his untimely death so soon but you could kill him. You could also lie but you have to remind yourself that that would be a hollow win, it would always loom over you. No sense in putting it off. 

“Yes.” Might as well use his own question against him, even if it ends up embarrassing you if he says no. “Do you? Ever think about me?” You would give anything to sound less timid at that moment. 

“Often.”

Maker, is this your punishment for cheating on your husband? The agonizing temptation of the man before you?

“Do you ever think about Kodo?” Oh he’s sick. But right, his tone indicates that he already knows the answer to his question.

“No.” It’s barely above a whisper. “Why were you acting so weird this morning?” You’ve all but given up your little plot at this point, you’re pretty sure you’ll be able to convince him with or without the win at some point later. 

“Weird?” 

“You were being all cordial and polite. It was weird.” You’re still whispering as he scoffs.

“Pass.”

“Oh come on.” You didn’t often beg for a follow up during this game but you were desperate to know, especially if he didn’t want you to know. 

“I’ll tell you if you let me win.”

Hmm. That’s not an easy choice but you’re losing so why not just let him have it, maybe tonight you could try inviting him in again. 

“Fine. You win, now tell me. Why were you acting off?” You cross your arms as you glare at him.

“For the same reason you chose to play the game.”

“What?”

Oh. 

Oh.

He was trying to seduce you.

He’s good. It’s infuriating how good he continues to be at this. He keeps winning at this whole sexual chess game you’ve been playing. You don’t have time to mock him for being so theatrical about this whole thing because he’s standing and in the blink of an eye he’s in front of you, leaning down and grabbing the bottom of your skirt, lifting it up to your seat.

“I win.” His voice is low and husky and it doesn’t even seem like he’s basking in his victory all that much because he’s too busy collecting the layers of your dress and holding them in place up at your hips. You don’t have a lot of time to process what’s going on as one of his hands is gripping your jaw. “Is it okay if I cash in my prize now?” He’s asking for permission and honestly all you can do is dumbly nod as he grabs your hips and roughly pulls you by the waist of your dress so your ass is barely hanging off the edge of the reading nook, one of his hands comes up to your mouth and he’s tapping his pointer and middle finger on your bottom lip. “Open.” 

You should be snippier with him. 

You want to be. You want desperately for him to not be in charge all the time. (Of course you do want him to be in charge some of the time but that’s besides the point.)

And you’re getting what you want so what’s the point of fighting now. You open your mouth and he slides his fingers past your teeth, not far enough to make you gag but enough to fill your mouth with the material. 

Metal, gunpowder, leather. 

It’s not all that unpleasant, especially since he’s slotting himself between your legs now. 

“Bite down.” You furrow your brows but gently bite and he pulls his hand free, keeping his glove between your teeth. “Keep that there, okay sarad? Nod if you understand.” 

What a prick. Talking down to you like that, if it didn’t make you so wet you’d spit his glove back in his face. 

Instead you nod, because afterall you’re only human and you have needs. 

“Good girl.” His condescending tone is infuriating and if you weren’t so horribly turned on by it you’d kick him where it hurts but his ungloved hand is unzipping his flight suit at the crotch so you decide to let this one slide. “Hold your skirt up for me, cyar’ika.” He mutters out as he manages to free his cock from his pants, already standing at attention, fully erect. 

It’s enough to have you tragically drooling at the sight of a man who wants you so badly he needs no time to prepare himself. 

To the best of your ability you grip the edges of your skirt up for him as his still gloved hand reaches under all of the tulle, fishing around for a moment until he finds the hem of your panties, shoving them down to your ankles as you let out a small groan into his glove. His still gloved hand is spreading your thighs as he slowly strokes himself with his other hand, once you’re seemingly exactly how he wants you you can faintly hear a sharp inhale as he takes in the sight of you staring up at him. 

“Cyare…” He mumbles as he switches his hands, bringing his bare hand between your legs. 

You shouldn’t whine the way you do. You wish you could have held it back but you’re already a mess just in anticipation of him and you just pray to the gods that the glove muffles the majority of it. Of course it doesn’t. Because he lets out a gravely laugh. 

“What’s wrong sarad?” His tone is not unkind but it is sarcastic as you feel his fingernails lightly scraping at your inner thigh. You can nearly see his confused look through the Beskar as he takes a moment to contemplate before he brings his gloved hand back between your legs as you nod pathetically. “Is this what you wanted? I thought you thought my gloves were stupid princess?” 

The tough leather on his fingertips is ever so slightly dragging through your seam as you let your head fall back. He hums in approval as he brings his bare hand back to his cock, jerking himself off gradually as he sinks a finger into your dripping cunt. 

No sense in maintaining any of your pride because the sensation forces an obscene groan out of you, accompanied by the lewd squelching sound as he withdrawals the single digit before sliding it back in. 

His fingers had already filled you so exquisitely, with the added thickness of the gloves you were pretty sure you died and went to heaven. He doesn’t wait long before he adds a second finger and honestly you’re pretty sure you can’t physically take a third as he slams them in and out of you brutally, he doesn’t give you anytime to catch your breath as he pulls them out almost entirely before sliding them home, down to the knuckle. 

You’re not sure where to look, there’s a lot going on right now and yes you had wanted this terribly but you didn’t think he’d give it to you so suddenly and you’re feeling a lot of things right now. 

You settle your eyes on his length. That perfect pretty cock of his. He’s matching the rhythm of his strokes to the rhythm of his other hand. Maker, you don’t deserve the show he’s putting on for you as he lets out quiet grunts, staring down at you. You let out a particularly loud whine as you feel his fingers curl ever so slightly.

“I love those pretty little noises you make but you have to be quiet mesh’la.” His hand briefly comes up to your mouth to shove more of the glove past your teeth as you whine softly. “If you can’t be quiet I’ll have to stop, do you understand?” 

He pulls his fingers from you, wiping his glove on the inside of your dress as you let out a small cry at the loss of contact, it makes him click his tongue. 

“Be a good girl okay? I know this is what you wanted, is that why you wore this? So I’d fuck you like the slut you are? All you had to do was ask, I don’t care all that much about your rules. But we can’t have anyone walking in so I need you to quiet down.” He’s lining the weeping pink tip of his cock up at your entrance so you swallow the moan threatening to burst from your throat.

You still aren’t used to how talkative he is during sex. Sure he talks to you but never like this. Most of the time he only ever says what he needs to to get under your skin and then he’s done. But when you’re like this, it’s like he can’t stop the words that fall past the modulator. 

He’s slower this time. The first time, he had fucked you like he would never get a chance to touch you again. Animalistic and mercilessly. Now it’s like he’s taking the time to savor you entirely. 

You want to spit the glove out and beg him to just fuck you without caution but you’re certain he would just go slower if you did that. Or worse, stop entirely. So you bite down on the glove and grit your teeth as he continues at his agonizingly slow pace, lazily shoving himself into your tight hole, inch by inch. He takes his time, dragging it out, he’s barely halfway in and he’s panting, his hand squeezing the still fresh bruises under your dress. 

Before you can stop him he starts pulling out again, you’re unable to fend off the meek whine that happens as he starts shallowly slow fucking you, never pushing himself more than a few inches in. It’s got you thrashing as he pins you down in place, your cunt milking the head of his cock. Your hands abandoning your skirt to hold onto his forearms for support .

His gloved hand came down with a smack on your inner thigh that has you keening as he starts massaging the red mark, spreading your legs a little wider. His thumb began rubbing rough circles against your clit. Just fast enough to make you squirm but not fast enough to push you over the edge. You can tell by the hoarse laughter that comes between his grunts that he’s doing this on purpose. Not fucking you deep enough to hit the spot that he know’s you’re hopelessly trying to push it against.

“Man-ooh” You spit out past the glove. You point your toes to try and get some traction on the ground. Struggling to drive him deeper into you, he responds with a harsh slap to your clit that has you jolting backwards against the window. 

“Ah ah, I thought I told you to be good. Good girls stay quiet.” He pushes his thumb down against your bud, applying pressure but holding it torturously still. 

“Pleath-” Is all you can manage to mumble out past the leather, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, as you try to writhe under his grip, anything to get him deeper inside you but he holds you in place as he impales you on his length.

“Please? Good girls don’t beg until they’re told to sarad.” He rocks his hips forward as he continues to mock you. 

It’s a real shame he knows how to work you up so easily. You’d love to slap that stupid tone out of his voice and tell him to fuck you proper but there’s something about the pure domination that he exudes the moment he decides he wants you. It’s intoxicating. You’re drunk on him when he gets like this, the primal needs to submit to him in the moment is overwhelming. He delivers another slap to your clit to get your attention that has you letting out a muffled yelp.

“Are you paying attention, mesh’la?” His voice is so low and condescending and it makes you tighten around him earning you a growl from the Mandalorian. “You like it when I treat you like this huh?” He gives you another snap of his hips, just enough to kiss that spot with his cockhead. 

You can feel a moan bubbling in your throat but bite it back, trying to stay silent, opting for a nod instead. 

“Good girl. Now say you’re sorry princess.” One of his hands is splayed out on your thigh, holding you spread open for him as the other hungrily gropes at your chest over your bodice. 

You close your eyes as your head leans back to avoid letting him see the crimson that is creeping up your face. You’ve come this far, why draw the line here.

“Thowwy” You should probably feel more shame. You’re the princess of a very important planet yet you’re here, in the library, being fucked sensless by a man who is notably not your husband, mumbling apologies through a gag. It’s easy to forget all that though because your pathetic sorry earns you a patronizing pat on the head, which subsequently results in a rush of heat between your legs. 

You might be a bad person for getting off on this.

Maybe think about that later, right now you’re too busy servicing the bodyguard your husband hired. 

“See, that’s better.” He brings his thumb up to swipe at your bottom lip, taking in the beads of drool before bringing it back to your clit. “Good girls get rewarded.” He snaps his hips forward, pushing just a little deeper. Finally letting the blunt head of his cock rest against that sensitive spot inside of you. 

It’s like he knows your body better than you do. It’s a little aggravating but it’s hard to be mad when he starts deliberately slamming himself against that spot. Matching his ministrations on your clit to his thrusts which has your entire body tensing as that wire in your core threatens to snap.  

You have autonomy. And he’s just a self-righteous asshole who is devastatingly good at sex. He likes to remind you of the fact that you don’t technically have the authority to dismiss him but you’re pretty sure you’re still his boss.

So why are you staring up at him now with pleading eyes as he fucks you, your eyes darting between him and the leather sticking out from your lips. You could spit it out, but instead you wait until his thrusts slow ever so slightly as he pulls the now soaked glove from your mouth, a line of drool going from it to your lips. 

“What is it, copikla?” He says it so derisively that you don’t need a translation to tell you he’s teasing you. 

Okay.

Normally you wouldn’t do this. Not unless a guy explicitly asked for it and it was your only option. But you know that if you ask for permission he’ll probably just let you and you woke up pent up and then there was all the teasing and the heat is going to your head so you can’t stop the babbles that spill from your lips. 

“Can I cum Mando? Please let me cum I’m so close please.” Hearing yourself say those words is a little humiliating, (for an unrelated reason you’re sure you get wetter as you say them) but it seems to work because he picks up his pace as he plunges himself into you. There’s no hesitation as you plead with him.

“Elek olaror sarad’ika. Cum for me.” His voice is a low growl as he holds your hips, pulling you down against him to push himself deeper into you as his thumb rolls over your clit just so. Everything combined with the Mando’a he seemingly can’t stop speaking has your eyes rolling back as you feel your walls clamping down on him, strangling his cock as you climax, your vision going a sharp white for a moment, his hand comes up just fast enough to muffle the cry that escapes your throat. Simultaneously he slips out of you, shooting his load onto your swollen soaked pussy.

You’re both just panting for a moment as you come down from your respective orgasms. He recovers first as he shoves himself back into his pants before kneeling down in front of you, pulling your panties up, keeping his cum on your skin. 

It’s filthy. The thought of spending the rest of the day with his seed between your legs is hot enough to hopefully keep you satisfied for a few more days than last time. 

Your head is still tilted back, resting against the window as your chest heaves. You barely even register the hiss of air, or the gentle kiss that’s placed against your inner thigh. 

Soft. His lips are soft, not chapped like you’d thought they’d be, with just a little bit of stubble. 

By the time you look down at him his helmet is back in place and you aren’t even sure it really happened. He straightens the layers on your skirt and stands up, his still ungloved hand brushes your hair back as he caresses your face.

“Are you okay? Do you need anything?” He’s back to that soft tone he uses only for you and you scowl at him.

“You’re mean during sex.” 

It’s nice to hear him laugh in earnest. He tucks a loose strand behind your ear.

“I think you like it.”

“Maybe.”

“Can I get you anything princess?” There it is again. That tone where he makes it sound like an endearment.

You don’t really need anything but you do have something you need to do so you give him a distraction.

“Could I convince you to get me some water?” 

“There isn’t a lot you couldn’t convince me of.” 

It’s things like that that make it hard to remember this is a platonic arrangement. But he’s already walking to the door so you rush to find some stationary and you write out everything you need before stepping out into the hall. No sign of Mando so you whisper-yell Leodall’s name. It’s like he appears out of thin air, you should figure out how he does that at some point if you’re gonna keep having secret sexual relations. That isn’t your mission right now though so you hand him the paper and dismiss him before hurrying back into the library. Patiently awaiting Mando’s return. 

As you sit back in the nook you rest your head on the adjacent book shelf. 

Two days. 

You’ve had your rules for two days. So far you’ve broken a rule every day you’ve had them. 

Everyone makes mistakes.

You just won’t break any more rules from this point forward. 

“…All you had to do was ask, I don’t care all that much about your rules.”

That’s what he had said.

This is Purely Stress Relief. 

Maybe you can keep breaking one rule. 

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