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davnittbraes · 1 year

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The Fourth Step - Chapter Thirty-Two

Part of The World Is Light, Embodied.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5700

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

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

Mando’a translations at the end of the chapter.

Please check out the Series Masterlist page for more info.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Emptier than you’d prefer at the moment.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your love for him squeezes your chest tight.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, ogling. You’re very oglable.”

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

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

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

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

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

Pfassk. You’re mooning over his socks.

You’ve really got it bad for him.

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

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

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

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

You hold your breath.

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

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

“Ogling you.”

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

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

“You hold both titles.”

“That sounds like a lot of work.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dank farrik.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crikking hells -

Your thoughts blank, white noise fills your ears.

Pfassk, yes.

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

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

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

Only Din could get you this kriffing worked up.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right. Lay down.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crikking hells -

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

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

Yes so good -

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

Oh kriff yes -

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

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

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

Pfassk -

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

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

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

You’re falling -

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

So good so good don’t stop please -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crikking hells.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Him.

Din.

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

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

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

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

His grip on your hand, squeezing once.

It’s ok. Let go.

He’s got you.

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

Right there right there yes -

Again -

Oh pfassk -

Again -

White hot heat -

Pleasure breaks, every muscle pulls tight -

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

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

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

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

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

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

You need him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Crikking hells -

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

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

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

Yes -

So full -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Again and again -

Crikking hells you’re gonna come -

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

Tell him tell him want him to know -

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

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

“Fuck.”

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

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

Then he thrusts back in and you lose yourself.

Bright hot pleasure -

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

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

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

Over and over and over -

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

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

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

Crikking hells so good -

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

Finally there’s the drop -

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

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

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

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

You love everything about it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A curl of anxiety turns your stomach.

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

Like he was trying to prove that you wanted him.

Kriff. The Weequay.

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

Stop.

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

Talk to him.

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

A pause, he stills behind you.

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

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

Ok he wasn’t upset but he was angry.

Anger that could have come from -

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***** Mando’a translations

mesh’la - beautiful

tionas - question

cyar’ika - sweetheart

kar’ta - heart

***** Previous Chapter Next Chapter

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

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davnittbraes · 1 year

Text

The Fourth Step - Chapter Twenty-Nine

Part of The World Is Light, Embodied.

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 3800

Warnings, etc.: SMUHHTT like you knew this was happening based on the last chapter, there’s a pattern at this point in the series, let’s see we’ve got some classic p in the v action, oral sex (m!receiving;), I didn’t mean to make a smiley face there but it works so it’s staying, wall sex because these two are so horny for each other they can’t even make it to the bed at first, roughish sex, lil bit of squirting, okay other stuff like fluff so mushy it’s indistinguishable, disgusting amounts of banter, creative use of Mando’a but shhh just let it happen

Notes: I know I’m a week late on this update. AGAIN. I KNOW. But if we all close our eyes and cross our fingers and toes and just believe then we can pretend this chapter is on time, just like we can pretend Season 3 is full of beautifully poignant moments between Din and Grogu and lots of natural character development and logical plot points that progress our understanding of the SW universe as a whole.

Okay last thing if anyone likes to listen to music while reading, this song inspired this particular chapter and much of this series overall:

Mando’a translations at the end of the chapter.

Please check out the Series Masterlist page for more info.

There’s something else there, now. Something between the two of you - intangible, invisible, but there. Like the pull that had drawn you to him in the first place, brought you back together each time you had parted, but more.

No longer a simple tie but a knot formed by a constant, inaudible refrain, a rhythm felt in the beating of your heart, mirroring the pace of those words spoken in the cockpit.

I love you, Din Djarin.

I love you, tionas.

It tightens as you make your way through the hold, tugging you back to him every time you step too far away. His fingers seem to follow it, gliding around your waist, cupping your cheek to pull your lips to his.

A trail of armour marks your path, helmet the first to go as soon as the dark of the hold enveloped the two of you. His warmth is revealed to your touch bit by bit, flightsuit peeling away until only his thin underlayer covers the flexing muscle under your palms.

You lose track of where you are in the ship, the night cycle erasing your sight and the way his lips trail down your throat emptying your thoughts until all that’s left is an ache so deep you can feel it everywhere, the urge to twist yourself up tight into him until you can’t tell where you end and he begins because there is no longer an end and a beginning, only this connection that binds you together.

A heartbeat - yours or his or both - skips a steadily growing rhythm, catching with anticipation.

His hands skirt over your hips, pull them to his own - the motion is a little sharper, a little harder than the rest, knocking your balance off just enough that you stumble. He catches you easily, reversing momentum to push you back against the wall.

Anticipation shifts into arousal, want.

Need.

He’s so close - not enough - pressed against you, his heat a sharp contrast to the cold of the durasteel at your back. A shiver runs through your entire body and he hums low in his throat, slips a hand under the hem of your nightshirt to slide up your back and rest between your shoulderblades, warmth a cushion against the chill.

Another tremor follows in the wake of his hand. Even though he’s touched your back like this countless times now, it still makes your head light, your lungs gasp for breath.

You thread your fingers through his hair and pull, silently asking, pleading, demanding.

He kisses you deep, pulls a whimper from your chest that he echoes with a groan.

More need more -

Teeth scrape over the hinge of your jaw and fingers dig into your thigh, haul it up to curl around his waist and your hips roll instinctively, searching for -

Crikking hells yes -

The hard length of his cloth-covered cock grinds over your cunt, pressing your damp underwear against your clit and sparks of pleasure rapid fire through your veins.

Not enough -

Your hands grab at his shoulders, haul him impossibly tighter against you as his tongue flicks along your pulse, hot and wet over where a whimper buzzes low, reverberating with his answering groan.

Something cracks and swells deep in your gut and a flood of need rushes through your core, shoves desperate words past your lips. “Need you inside me.”

His groan vibrates through your own chest. “Want to feel you, kar’ta, but I should get you ready -“

He chokes off as your hand slips into his underlayer, curls around his cock and squeezes.

For a brief moment your intent wavers, distracted - pfassk, he feels so good against your palm, hard length pulsing, velvet skin burning with arousal. A warm droplet slides over your knuckles and your tastebuds tingle with the memory of how it feels on your tongue, the sharp bite of his pleasure.

A wave of fresh slick dampens your underwear, so much that you can feel it on your hand through his underlayer and your focus resharpens, the need to feel him blazing over your skin.

You stroke along the length of his cock, your pussy throbbing at his subsequent groan, and your free hand finds one of his, pulls it to your hip, hooks his fingers over the waistband of your underwear and tugs.

A silent command, reinforced by your desperate verbal plea.

“Gedet’ye, Din.”

He doesn’t hesitate, grips the thin fabric and rips the seam with one sharp pull.

It bites into the flesh of your opposite hip but it’s only a flash of pain, almost instantly soothed by the brush of his hand down your side, pushing the remnants of your underwear down your thigh and to the floor.

Then he’s pulling his underlayer out of the way and cool air is flowing over your fingers as you stroke his cock, bitten-back moans catching in his throat to the rhythm of your hand, pausing for just a heartbeat when you guide the head of his cock to your bare cunt, tilt your hips to drag him through your folds to your entrance and -

Yes yes yes -

His cock pushes apart your inner walls, inch by inch, spreading you around the thick of him until you can’t breathe, the sudden stretch overwhelming and so good a rush of wet heat floods your core.

He grunts behind clenched teeth as he sinks another inch of his cock into your cunt. “So tight I can’t -“

“Don’t stop don’t please -“ Your voice cracks with a moan as your head falls back against the wall.

His hips roll, a sharp movement that feels involuntary, dragging his cock from your pussy with a wet sound that makes you dizzy with pleasure before shoving back so deep you cry out, lights bursting at the edge of your darkened vision.

Not enough -

Your fingers clench into the meat of his shoulders and your hips arch to take more of him.

A slew of Mandalorian words rushes hot over your collarbone. He growls low, thrusts again and finally -

Breathless groans mingle in the space between you as he buries deep, your slick folds swallowing the base of his cock greedily.

The ache throbs, momentarily satisfied, the need for connection slaked by the way your cunt pulses around his length. The thing between you loosens enough that you can breathe again, frantic need smoothing into calm, basking in the warm pleasure that spirals out from your core.

He stills, and a thick and heady silence falls around the two of you, his nose brushing alongside yours as he presses a soft kiss to your lips. “You’re too good at that.”

“At what?” You roll your hips as much as you can, moaning at the slight friction.

He presses his hips tight to yours, preventing you from repeating the motion, his voice slightly breathless. “At testing my restraint.”

That strange, giddy feeling is back, a subtle vibration behind your ribs that urges you to laugh mingling with the primal instinct to move making your head light.

You duck your head quick to nip at his neck, skin catching on your teeth. “Good. You have too much of it, sometimes.”

He clicks his tongue in admonishment. “I need all of it around you, or this is all we’d do.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” You squeeze around his cock - pfassk that feels good - and he shifts, grunting in surprise, but still doesn’t move.

Fine. Just have to play dirty.

Your lips find his ear, fingers curving over his shoulders to dig your nails into his skin. “I want this, all the time. Want you all the time, just like this, your cock filling me up so good.”

He shudders hard, and you can feel it, that exact restraint, running through his frame even as he rocks forward, unable to stop his body from seeking pleasure despite his ridiculous willpower.

Almost there.

You lean back, hands cupping his face gently as your lips pull his into the sweetest kiss you can manage with the urge to laugh and grind on his cock until you come warring in your chest. He wavers, practically melting against you, hand sliding along your thigh to grasp your waist with an almost-desperation.

Then you pull back just enough, let your words brush over his mouth.

“I think about you all the time, how perfect you feel like this, how deep you get - exactly where I need you. Like your cock was made for me.” Another tender press of your lips. “Like you were made for me.”

The moan that buzzes against your mouth fills your senses, and suddenly you’re swept up in your own game, a tiny sound slipping past your tight throat as he rests his forehead against yours, tears stinging the corners of your eyes.

He turns his face to press a kiss to your palm. “You make me believe in fate, tionas.”

A thousand emotions sweep through you, leave you on the verge of gasping for air. That deep-seated connection flares to the surface, burns away any thought of mischievous games and playful teases.

His hands slide around the small of your back, arms winding tight, tilting your hips at angle as he gently rocks into you. The push of his cock along your inner walls floods your core with white-hot pleasure, your mouth falling open in a moan that he chases with a sweep of his tongue.

Again he slowly pulls back and again he gently pushes in, over and over as pleasure spirals up and up through your body, trembles through every muscle. Your legs shake with it, threaten to crumble under your weight, and you whimper with the strain.

His arms loosen for a moment, a hand grabs your thigh, hitches it higher around his waist. “Hold on to me, cyar’ika. I’ve got you.”

He thrusts in again and you cry out -

The soft cloth of his underlayer grinds over your clit as the head of his cock pushes against some spot inside you that blasts pleasure through your core.

Again -

Crikking hells -

Your hands fly to grasp his shoulders, senses reeling, entire body trembling.

His hips roll, a smooth glide away and a sharp snap -

Oh kriff -

His cock hits that spot again and wet heat floods your cunt, dampens his underlayer, ignites sparks as it presses to your clit again and -

Again -

So good so good -

Your orgasm grows bright, pulsing with each thrust of his cock along the slick walls of your pussy and another snap of his hips and it’s right there -

He grunts as another wave of slick seeps from your cunt, arms pulling tight to keep you in place when the first shudder of pleasure rolls through your body. “Yes, come for me, just like that -“

Bright wet heat -

Pleasure crashes through your senses and you frantically grasp at him as your legs give out. “Din -“

He thrusts in deep and pushes you tight to the wall, one hand gripping the back of your raised thigh to keep you up and at that angle.

A sob tears from your chest as his cock presses hard to that spot and your core clenches around him over and over with each wave of pleasure until finally -

The drop -

You’re slumping against him, fine tremors running through your frame, ribs aching with the need for air.

He sways just slightly, bracing your weight, a hand sliding up your back under your nightshirt, soothing, his voice a low murmur in your ear. “Breathe, kar’ta.”

Your fingers hurt - you uncurl them from where they’ve fisted in the cloth of his underlayer over his shoulders. A few deep breaths, the weight of his hand on your back a steady reminder.

Senses dulled by pleasure blink back online and you smooth the wrinkles you had made in his underlayer, pressing a kiss to the curve of his neck. “You’re too good at that.”

A vibration under your lips marks his silent laugh as he obviously picks up on your echo of his words earlier. “At what?”

You swallow thickly, mouth dry from trying to steady your breathing, voice cracking with spent pleasure. “Making me come so hard I can’t stand up anymore.”

His cock twitches inside you and a shiver runs down your thighs, tracked by his fingers still gripping you there. “Then let me take you to bed and lay you down. I’m not done with you yet.”

You both groan as he pulls out, your cunt clenching at the sudden emptiness. He gently guides you through the dark hold, hands never leaving you, holding firmly when you falter.

It’s only a handful of steps to your shared blankets but it’s enough to clear your thoughts of the post-bliss haze and reignite your craving for him.

Your feet barely brush the fabric of the blankets before you turn to face him, slide your hands down his chest to rest on his thighs as you drop to your knees.

He groans long and low as you lean in to press a kiss to the space just above your thumb. “I said I’m not done with you.”

“And I haven’t even started with you, yet.”

You nip at the rise of his hipbone through his underlayer then immediately press your tongue to the spot, and the hiss of pleasure from above you curls into your core, arousal swirling to life once again.

He cups your cheek with one hand, thumb brushing the corner of your lips. “Feeling you come on my cock wasn’t enough? That perfect pussy squeezing me so tight I couldn’t breathe - fuck -“

You turn to capture his thumb, suck it into your mouth, swirl your tongue over it then release with a pop. “No. I’m gonna make you come until you can’t stand up anymore.”

Then you reach up and grasp the base of his cock and lave your tongue along his length to pull the head into your mouth.

Pfassk yes -

His taste floods your senses, thick warmth of his cock deliciously heavy on your tongue.

The stuttered groan that chokes from his chest shoots right to your core and you squeeze your thighs against the pulse of want.

You sink forward, pushing his length along your tongue, moaning as it pulses and a hint of that bitter tang you’d wished for earlier finally coats your tongue.

His hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, trembling slightly as you slowly drag the flat of your tongue along the underside. “So good, so good to me -“

Your grip on his cock tightens, strokes up as you sink forward again, letting saliva pool in your mouth before pulling back.

He shudders hard at the twist of your hand along his slick length, whimpers when you purse your lips against the head, tip of your tongue dipping into the slit to lap up the moisture beading there. Groans when you pick up a steady rhythm with your hand, pushing saliva from your pursed lips to coat his cock and ease the friction of your grip.

Arousal builds steadily between your thighs, fed by every one of his sounds, every twitch of his cock, flex of his body as pleasure courses through him - pleasure you’re giving him.

Pfassk, it’s all too much and not enough.

Never enough.

You duck down to mouth along the underside of his cock, tongue the thick vein that throbs with each pass of your hand. His fingers dig into your scalp, groan degenerating into desperate pants that fill your thoughts completely.

Quickening the pace of your hand, you slide further down, nose along the base of his cock, swipe the flat of your tongue over the soft sac there.

His cock throbs in your grip and his hand clenches on the back of your head. “Fuck - tionas -“

You moan in response, opening your mouth wide to let the vibrations ghost over the delicate skin and trace the tip of your tongue over the gentle swell before pulling it into the wet heat of your mouth.

He chokes out a slew of unintelligible words and suddenly he’s grabbing your hand on his cock, squeezing to stop your movements, words shifting into something you understand. “Stop I want to come inside you please -“

Your pussy throbs at the desperation in his voice and you pull back, lean into the cup of his palm on the back of your head. “Yes, Din, come inside me. Fill me up with you.”

The flurry of movement is so disorienting you barely register the blankets at your back as he slots himself between your thighs and notches the head of his cock at your entrance, thrusts into your cunt with a single motion.

Oh pfassk -

You’re so wet, slick from your previous orgasm and the feel of him coming apart on your tongue and his cock sinks deep with no resistance. A rough growl reverberates through his chest, makes your pussy squeeze him tight, and he sits back, hauls your thighs around his hips and grabs your waist firmly.

There’s only a blink of a moment, a brief second when you register the sharp angle of your hips, resting on top of his thighs, bowing your back, and the hard press of the head of his cock against that spot deep inside that makes you fall apart so quickly.

Then he’s thrusting hard and your awareness shatters until all you feel is his large hands holding you in place and his cock driving deep enough to shove the air from your lungs.

Again again again -

The smack of skin and the squelch of slick as it floods your cunt matches the frantic rhythm of your heartbeat and the almost guttural groans punching through the air - his or yours, you can’t tell, everything is all too much and pleasure so white-hot it burns is coursing through your entire body and -

He shifts, thighs flexing underneath your ass, one hand sliding up under your shirt to cup a breast, grind his palm over your peaked nipple and the other diving down to swirl firm circles over your clit.

Pfassk -

You’re floating and falling and your hands are everywhere, grabbing at the blankets, his forearms, the wall behind your head, desperate for something to hold on to.

His hand leaves your breast, grasps one of yours tight, and you cling to it, hold to your chest.

His pace picks up and his cock is spearing into your core over and over and hitting that spot every time until something bursts and pleasure screams through your blood -

Everything is tight and wet and hot -

He cries out, pace faltering, slowing, fingers spasming on your skin, and your pleasure breaks just as the warmth of his fills your cunt.

A moment of calm, something soft and pure, thrumming along that connection between you.

Your grasp on his hand loosens, pressing his palm to your skin, over the rapid beat of your heart. Letting him feel it. Feel what you feel for him.

He sighs, a sound heavy with satiation, and slowly shifts away, pulling his softening cock from your pussy. A dip of disappointment curls in your stomach at the loss of him, until your hear the now-familiar rustle of fabric as he takes off his underlayer.

You sit up enough to tug your nightshirt over your head, cool air of the hold swirling over your bare breasts for just a moment before he’s with you again, broad chest and warm skin pressing tight to yours, and you sink back down into the blankets, a sigh of your own filtering through the silence as his weight settles over you.

His hand cups your cheek, thumb stroking over the curve as his lips find yours, kiss you softly. You breathe deep, curl your arms around his neck and keep him close.

The kiss grows, deepens, unhurried and thorough. You lose yourself in it, content to stay just like this for as long as you can.

Forever, if possible.

A thrill jumps along your heartbeat, pools in your chest.

Maybe it is.

Maybe you can have this, have him. Forever.

You just have to let yourself have it.

I love you, Din Djarin.

I love you, tionas.

Nudging your nose to his cheek, you break the kiss just enough to speak. “Din. I love you. Really.”

You’re still close enough to feel his smile against your lips. “I know. And I love you. Really.”

A teasing lilt seeps into his voice and you pull back further, imitating his own exasperated sigh perfectly. “Mir’sheb.”

He huffs his laugh and rolls onto his back, arms hooking around your waist to take you with him. “Of course that’s your favourite Mando’a word.”

You squirm into your usual position when you lay like this, one leg sprawled over his hips and a hand spread over his heartbeat, your nose tucked into the curve of his neck, revelling in the feel of his bare skin against yours for a moment. “Teach me more and I might find another.”

A pause, his fingertips tracing circles on the back of your hand. “How about ‘gar cuyir bid vercopa be ner kar’ta.’”

Your thoughts flicker, picking up on the last word. “You’ve called me that before. Kahrohta.”

He hums in agreement. “It means ‘heart.’ I’ve called you that in my head for a long time.” His fingers stop their pattern, gently grasp your hand to lift it to his lips and press a kiss to the centre of your palm. “‘Gar cuyir bid vercopa be ner kar’ta.’ You are the dream of my heart.”

Your breath catches in your throat, emotion swarming up your chest to sting behind your eyelids. “Pfassk. Is this how all Mando’a lessons start? I wasn’t emotionally prepared for kriffing poetry.”

His snort of laughter vibrates under your cheek. “Of course you would curse - twice - when told something like that.”

“I liked it.” You return your hand to his chest, push gently in protest. “I just wasn’t expecting it.”

He presses your hand tight to his chest, halting your attempt to push him again, and tucks you in closer to his side. “I will say that and more, for as long as you’ll let me.”

You still, his words echoing your own thoughts moments before.

For as long as you’ll let me.

Rising up on your elbow, you look down at him in the dark. “How do you say ‘forever?’”

A hand glides up your back and down again, thumb tracing the curve of your spine. “Darasuum.”

Slowly, you lean down, press a kiss to his lips. “Din Djarin, I will let you darasuum.”

When he kisses you again you can feel the rhythm of those words in the skittering of the heartbeat under your palm and in the pulse of your own in your chest, threaded through with that something else, that intangible knot pulling you together.

***** Mando’a translations

tionas - question

cyar’ika - sweetheart

gedet’ye - please

***** Previous Chapter Next Chapter

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