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#din dijarin x reader
djarins-cyare · 1 day
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WIP: Last Sentence
Rules: Post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic / original / anything) and tag as many people as there are words in the sentence.
Thanks for tagging me @burntheedges! You’ve seen this already, but I’m gonna share it with everyone. It’s spicy, so under the cut…
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(Yes the paragraph starts with an ellipsis; it’s rather the pinnacle moment so I reserve the right to get carefree with the punctuation 😝)
…and he recalls your words in the cantina earlier as he asserts, “I fight well…” There’s a hiss, and then — holy stars — the tickle of his breath against your ear as his unmodulated voice growls, “…and I fuck well.”
Yep, I’m finally writing some smut! Din is a dab hand at the dirty talk in this one.
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Hoo boy, 39 people to tag! Okay, in typically autistic fashion, I’m gonna scroll through my activity and tag my last 39 interactions with any mutuals who write (and aren’t already on Kate’s list) and then make them into nice little alphabetical groups of 5. Don’t judge me.
No pressure y’all ❤️:
@abbonation @alltheglitterandtheroar @alltheotps @auntie-venom @bearsbeetsbeskar
@beskarinhyperspace @burningfieldof-clover @ceapa-mica @cherubispunk @chiriwritesstuff 
@classaysstuff @corazondebeskar @decembermidnight @desert-fern @djarinmuse
@djarins-wife @draculasfavoritewife @drewharrisonwriter @for-a-longlongtime @frickatives
@genetics4life @iamsherlocked-1998 @ilovepedro @imperatorkhaleesi @iron-strangers
@magpiepills @mandobogwitch @nerdieforpedro @papurgaatika @pascalpasta1
@penvisions @quicksilvermad @saradika @starstruckunknown-princess @syd-djarin
@toomanytookas @wannab-urs @whxtedreams @wrathkitty
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ilovelosermen69 · 8 months
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Girls when he does the bare minimum in fanfiction
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deantavias · 1 year
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"it's unhealthy to read fanfiction"
well i'm doing my 20 minutes of daily reading so...
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psyzook · 1 year
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Everyone is so thirsty over Din Djarin, and because of it there is so. much. smut fanfiction. And I’m absolutely astounded by it.
You’re telling me this guy is feral and horny? I don’t believe it. He is a anxious, touch-starved, gentleman who has no idea how to express emotion. He’s the nervousness of Jenna Marbles’s dog, Kermit, personified and in a tin can.
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foxtrology · 26 days
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tinder!joel ✪
one of my first works, let me know if you would like more. follow me on twitter (foxtrology).
→ age gap
joel & y/n’s tinder profiles
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y/n and joel swiping right for each other
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when they matched
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bonus: a year later on instagram!
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liked by joelm, sarahsmiller and 102 others
yourinstagram cowgirl and cowboy
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tommymills You both are gross. But cute. Love you guys.
sarahsmiller yeah yeah, shut up
tommymills Byeeeeee
yourfriend1 my cuties
sarahsmiller oh my god i love you both so freaking much
yourinstagram aweeee sar!!!
yourfriend2 love the millers!
joelm I love you so much sweetheart ❤️
yourinstagram i love you more baby
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liked by yourinstagram, yourfriend1 and 18 others
joelm Forever my sweetheart
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yourfamilymember1 She’s always so happy around you Joel!
yourinstagram you finally posted on instagram! congratulations old man! ❤️
joelm Old man huh?
yourfriend2 stunning as always
sarahsmiller how did you get her? we will never know. 🙈
joelm Oh…
sarahsmiller just KIDDING. love you dad
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liked by yourinstagram, joelm and 211 others
sarahsmiller on the way to ride horses and break our bones! good luck to us. at least we have a fun teacher (y/n)!!!!
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tommymills Joel is definitely going to break his back
yourinstagram who is saying he didn’t already?
sarahsfriend1 have fun millers 🙌
yourinstagram also why does joel look so good???!
(joelm liked this comment!)
sarahsfriend2 invite me next timeeeee
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lincolndjarin · 9 months
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Best Kept Secret ☆
A MANDALORIAN SERIES MASTERLIST
[ COMPLETED ]
✩ a bodyguard!din x princess!reader fic ✩
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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.
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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
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reader is generally not described past being picked up a few times, and having hair long enough to be put up
✩ chapters containing smut!
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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. ]
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avenging-fandoms · 1 year
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Pedro Pascal Masterlist
***some links do not work :( please inbox me if you need help navigating a fic!
SMUT:
Call Him Daddy
All for Me?
Soft Lover
Mando's Kinks
Friends with Benefits on Narcos
Trying for a Baby
Fingered to Tears
Degrading
Fucking Enemies
Cowboy Hat Rule - Agent Whiskey
Obsessed - Javier Pena
The First Time - Din Djarin
My Toy - Din Djarin
Inexperienced - Oberyn Martell
Punished - Joel Miller
FLUFF:
Movies and Edibles
Rain at the beach
Pretty
Stay with Me
New Years
Pretty Boy
Southern Accent
Proud
Accidentally Spotted
Welcome Home
Spanish
Cleaning his Glasses
Admiration
I'm Home!
Wink Wink
I'll Keep You Warm
Bad Day
Physical Touch
Unexpected Christmas Together
Nervous Mistletoe
Costume Change
Sugar Daddy
Drunk in Love
Power's out
Do I Look Pretty? - Dad!Pedro
New Neighbor - Agent Whiskey
Home - Marcus Moreno
Cat's Out of the Bag - Marcus Moreno
Sleepy - Din Djarin
First Kiss - Din Djarin
I Love You - Din Djarin
In This Together - Din Djarin
A Well Needed Hug - Din Djarin
You Can Stay - Javier Pena
Is This Your Shirt? - Javier Pena
Dating - Joel Miller
First Kiss - Joel Miller
Oh Baby - Joel Miller
Oh Baby - Joel Miller - Part 2
Nicknames - All Characters
ANGST:
Lasso - Agent Whiskey
Helping Hand - Din Djarin
Save me - Joel Miller
Memories - Part 1
Memories - Part 2
MISC.:
Husband!Pedro moodboard
Instagram
Instagram
Instagram
Instagram
Instagram
Instagram
Instagram
Instagram
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papipedroo · 7 months
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Characters belong to Pedro Pascal and any franchise he is connected with.
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— Series —
Whiskey Tears
1. Whiskey Tears | 2. Newcomer | 3. Unwelcome | 4. Traitor | 5. Rupture
— Oneshots —
Sunlight and Lemons
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flowersforjude · 1 year
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𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 | Din Djarin x Fem!Reader
𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | A night in a beautiful meadow and an innocent question leads to a startling confession.
𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1,422
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𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | Literally none. Just an oblivious reader and nervous Din. Fluff rised to the max.
𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 | Guy’s, this made me weep with how cute it is. So, just fair warning I guess?
masterlist | read on ao3
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Like most things, it started with a simple question.
“Cyar’ika, can you hand me that wrench?”
You were helping Din with some repairs on the Crest when you heard that word for the hundredth time.
As you picked up the tool, your mind wrestled with the wandering thoughts of what that word meant. Din called you that all the time. He’d throw some others in the mix every once in a while.
Mesh’la.
Cyar.
Cyar’ika was the most common, though. You didn’t speak a bit of Mando’a, so you had no clue what he was calling you. He could be calling you the worst thing ever, and you wouldn’t even know. But even with his rough exterior, you highly doubted that he was referring to you as anything too horrible.
With every cyar, mesh’la, or cyar’ika your curiosity grew. But you didn’t voice your questions out of fear that you’d overstep some invisible boundary. You and Din were close—well, as close as the Mandalorian would let himself get to you. He’d told you his true name, so you counted that as progress. He still had so many secrets, though. So you didn’t want to push him to reveal stuff he wasn’t ready for. You would take whatever he’d give you. You would have him, however you could.
But sometimes your interest was almost too much.
Like at daybreak when he would touch your shoulder oh so gently and say, “Good morning, cyar.” In that deep, velvety cadence his voice had in the mornings.
Or when you’d just had a close call on a mission and he would rush to you, frantic, and place his hands on your cheeks. “Are you alright, cyar’ika? Are you hurt?” The words would leave his lips in a hurry and sometimes jumble together. You knew what he was saying nonetheless.
It was those moments when he showed you gentleness, concern, and care that you found it hard not to blurt out everything on your mind.
“What does cyar’ika mean?”
“What does cyar and mesh’la mean?”
“Do you know what it does to me when you touch me?”
“Do you love me as much as I love you?”
But you kept quiet and let the thoughts mingle in your mind. You were just going to leave well enough alone. Hoping that possibly ignoring your curiosity would make it, and your developing feelings fade away. That proved to require arduous effort, which you found yourself lacking day by day. And eventually, your efforts proved to be in vain.
The night it happened, the Crest had landed on some forest planet. Din had just wrapped up a difficult hunt, so he perched the ship on the first globe he could. You and the kid had been cooped up inside for days now, so as soon as the hatch opened, you were both bounding down from the cockpit.
The kid ran into the tall grass of the field, chasing frogs and crickets with the moonlight guiding his expedition. You stood close to the ship, just watching him with a loving smile. Din came to stand beside you, quite as ever, but his presence was a comfort you relished in far too much.
The first blink of light had you curious. The second and third and fourth flashes had you in awe.
The serene meadow was set ablaze with glittering brightness. Fireflies floated high and low, strung about the tall grass like hundreds of flawless silvery stars. They blanketed the grassland far and wide, down to the glimmering lake in the distance.
“Oh wow,” you breathed. You ventured farther out into the plain, turning in a slow circle, absolutely awestruck.
You could hear the child’s gurgling laughter from nearby. You couldn’t help the giggle that erupted from your throat. The dazzling excitement from the whole experience makes you somewhat astounded. You've never seen anything like this before. Something so beautiful.
You face Din, still standing guard at the front of the ship. “Isn’t this spectacular?” You questioned.
You could hear the airy chuckle get past his vocoder. “It’s certainly something.”
You rolled your eyes in a very childish manner and tilted your head in confusion. “How could you think this is anything but…what’s the word for beautiful in Mando’a?”
You’ve caught his full attention now, seemingly catching him off guard. He appears stunned beyond words. Beyond thoughts as well perhaps. You don’t understand why. It was just a simple question, but it seemed to have knocked any rational notion from him.
What you don’t know is that while you look at him with such sincerity in your eyes and you wait slightly nervous for his response, his brain is nothing short of a mess.
“Din,” you begin. “If I’ve crossed a line somehow-”
“The word is mesh’la.”
That stops you short. Your heart thudded to a halt for several seconds as you took in the sudden confession.
“Mesh’la,” you repeat softly.
You have no idea that his knees almost buckle at the sound of your voice speaking in his mother tongue.
Your face heats at the implication. Mesh’la means beautiful. Din calls you Mesh’la. Din calls you beautiful. He thinks you're beautiful? Or was it meant as something like a courtesy? Was he just being a flirt? No, Din wasn’t the type. So he must think it if he calls you it.
“Y/N.”
You speak up before he can get another word out. “You think I’m beautiful?”
He nods. “Yes.”
A grin tugs your lips up ever so slightly. Realization dawns on you as your mind recalls all the affectionate exchanges that you fooled yourself into thinking were merely friendly.
A coo from below takes your attention for a moment. The kid is at your feet with his arms stretched up for you. You hold him in the crook of your elbow as you close the distance between you and Din. When you stop in front of him, a radiant smile is permanently placed upon your lips.
“And uh, cyar’ika,” you whisper. “What does that mean…?” You’re a little hesitant to let all your questions come to light. A small part of you still worried you’re reading too much into it.
He takes a deep breath, and you try to ignore the anxiety coursing through you. “Cyar’ika…” He’s never sounded this breathless before. “It means sweetheart.”
The blood rushes to your cheeks with a new fury, painting your skin scarlet. It terrifies you a little that you can’t see his face, that you can’t read the expressions he is wearing right now. You think you know where this is going, but not being able to sense the situation from the other person makes it hard to be sure. You can see that he’s tense, possibly waiting for you to tell him that you were uncomfortable. But you weren't; you were a nervous wreck, but you were not uncomfortable with this knew information in the slightest. You were trying to figure out how to move forward with this without seeming like a lovesick fool.
After waiting an eternity trying to get a hold of yourself, you make a decision. You slowly bring your hands up to him, gently gliding along his arms until they reach the broad expanse of his shoulders, and then the cool surface of his helmet.
You can feel his panic, but you softly sush him. Eventually, your hands still on the side of his helmet, where you imagine his cheeks would be. You picture them flushed like yours. Even through the impenetrable beskar, you feel like the heat of his skin is melting into yours. You imagine how it would actually feel to be skin to skin with him. If you ever had the privilege to experience that, you were sure you could die happy.
What happens next is a surprise. Din clutches your hands in his and brings them down between you both. He then slowly touches his forehead to yours. The shock of cold metal draws a gasp from your lips.
“Ni ganar hid ner kar'taylir darasuum teh gar par chaaj'yc too munit, cyar’ika.” A whispered admission comes from him.
You can’t help but laugh as you have no clue what he said. “What?”
He chuckles along with you. “I said that I have hidden my love from you for far too long, sweetheart.”
Your heart cracks open with so many emotions that it’s overwhelming. It aches inside you, but the pain is welcome because you’d rather have this, him, than the uncertainty you lived in for so long.
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I poured over this for days, and I still feel like something isn't right. But oh well, maybe it'll come to me later. 🤷‍♀️
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Note
Not sure if you’d be into this butttt with the little cabin that Din just received - could we get like a glimpse of domestic life with din, reader, grogu, annndd maybe another kid or a kid on the way? Smut is welcome! But also it doesn’t have to have it
Ok hope you like the idea love you bye 😂
The Cabin
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pairing: din djarin x f!reader
rating: F (one mildly steamy line of dialogue but besides that just some domestic fluff)
wc: <1k
din masterlist
The days of sneaking glimpses of The Mandalorian when he’d come to the school you taught at to drop off and pick his son up were long gone by now, but standing on the porch of Din’s cabin that he insisted was now your cabin, you couldn’t help but stare.
Din was in the yard, sparring with Grogu to keep his apprentice’s skills sharp.
There wasn’t even a sliver of skin exposed, and yet he still looked like the sexiest man you’d ever seen. It was in the way he moved, the way he taught, the way he spoke to his child like every child wanted to be spoken to. He was just so…competent. A competent fighter, though he preferred to keep that side of himself far from you. A competent father, his devotion to Grogu running as deeply as his devotion to his Creed, perhaps even deeper. And Maker knows you can’t forget his competency as a lover—his skillful hands, his neediness, his attentiveness, his desire to make you feel good, it all made you feel drunk with adoration and lust.
“That’s enough for the day,” he announced through labored breathing, the child’s use of the force making the fight nearly fair. “You did good, kid.”
“You both did well,” you added from the porch, watching as Grogu leapt across the lawn towards you until you were bending down to pick him up. “Especially you.”
“He’s getting good,” Din said, meeting the two of you on the porch. “He’s a better fighter than most adults.”
“Well, he’s your son, after all,” you replied, looking into the black of Din’s visor. Din tilted his helmet at you, something you’d slowly learned to read as a smile, and reached to pinch your chin with his gloved hand. “Lunch is ready. You must be starving, little guy.” Grogu chirped and cooed in confirmation, his wide eyed look of excitement never failing to bring a smile to your face. Looking to Din, you lifted your hand to scratch his chin from beneath his helmet. “You hungry?”
“Starving,” he replied, low and husky.
“I’m talking about food,” you laughed and turned around to walk into the house with Grogu on your hip. Din let out the slightest of chuckles and followed you inside, the door closing behind him.
“Food sounds nice too, cyar’ika.”
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Later on in the evening, you found yourself sitting beside Din on the bench in front of the cabin, the lid of his helmet lifted as he sipped on a drink. Your head rested on his shoulder, his armor off, and watched Grogu chase a frog around the yard.
“How’s the little one treating you today?” Din asked, his voice unmodulated and clearer than normal. You smiled down at your just-now swelling stomach and ran a hand over it.
“Treating me okay,” you answered. “Likes to kick when you talk.”
“Really?” he huffed a chuckle. “I’m not sure that’s a good thing.”
“I think it is,” you looked at him with a smile. “They’re just excited to meet their dad.”
“I’m excited to meet them, too,” he replied, soft and sincere, as though he were on the verge of tears. Turning back to face his child as he used the force to freeze the frog he’d been playing with and hover it back into his waiting hands, Din let out another chuckle.
“What’s so funny?” you asked, smiling.
“I just never…” He paused, looking back to you before closing the lid of his helmet, his voice becoming modulated again. “Just never thought I’d have all this.”
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hyperactively-me · 4 months
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tension
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You've seen his face countless times, but every time the helmet comes off, it's as though you're seeing him for the first time over and over again. His expression is more than it's normal stoicism; it's vulnerable, raw. His big brown eyes come into contact with yours as you reach up, your fingers gently brushing through his messy curls. Din closes his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the contact. "Hi there, handsome," you murmur softly, allowing your fingers to linger on his strands of hair. "You clean up well, don't you?"
massaging din’s sore, aching muscles ... leads to ... yeah. I'M SORRY (not sorry at all) PUT ME IN HORNY JAIL FOR THIS IDC. it started off so innocent but then the horny monster came out and took over.
tags: smut, OILED UP DIN DJARIN, I REPEAT, OILED UP DIN DJARIN. established relationship
Din has no issue praising and worshipping you with nothing but love and adoration. In fact, it feels like second nature to him.
When he's the object of your praises, though, he doesn't know how to act. He's caught off guard by your doting attention, your quiet praises, your gentle touches.
The gruff exterior that comes so naturally to him becomes a bit more pronounced when faced with compliments and affection.
His usual response was to deflect and downplay, wanting to be the one in control, the one doing the praising rather than receiving it. It's not that he didn't appreciate your words; it's just that the vulnerability of accepting them was difficult for him.
In those moments, you read his body language like the back of your hand. You could see the conflict in his eyes, a mixture of gratitude and discomfort. He had been alone for most of his time in this cruel galaxy, had spent so long being self-reliant, not needing validation from others, that being on the receiving end of such genuine affection challenged his identity of being the stoic, impenetrable Mandalorian.
So, when he finally comes back to the Razor Crest after catching an elusive bounty, you know exactly what to do to put him at ease, to show him how much you love him, your riduur.
You catch his hand before he can take any of his armor off.
"Don't. Let me do it," you say gently, tugging his hand away.
He stares at you with that ever stoic expression you know he has on his face right now beneath the helmet. A few beats pass, and he relents, letting his wrist fall limp in your grip.
"Thank you," you whisper quietly, now running your hands up his shoulders.
You start with his baldric and belt, catching it in your grip as you unfasten the clasps. It's surprisingly heavy in your hands, and you're already a bit weary to take off the beskar.
Next, you slip his worn brown cape off his shoulders, the rough material scraping across your fingers. You can still feel traces of warmth around the part that was settled around his neck and shoulders.
Din stands before you, now with his baldric, belt, and cape out of the way, the beskar armor still encases his form. You take a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship of the beskar, tracing the shiny metal with your fingertips. The material is cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the warmth of his body you can barely feel radiating off his form. Din still stands rigid, hands flexing at his side.
His gaze remains steady, a silent acknowledgment of your request. You take charge again, delicately unfastening the clasps of his shoulder pads and removing the plates, and you can feel just how tense even just his shoulders are.
You set them gently to the side and start to work on his chest plate, easing it away from his torso with careful precision. The beskar plates release with a loud clinking sound, revealing the fabric of his flight suit beneath. You can clearly see Din's chest rise and fall with a steadiness that betrays the controlled exterior he presents to the world. With a small grunt, you ease the heavy beskar chestplate to the side, shooting Din a look when he tries to take it from your grasp.
"You said you would let me do it," you whisper, a playful yet stern glint in your eyes.
He sighs through the voice transmitter, yet allows you to continue your process of taking his armor off.
His shoulders sag forward ever so slightly as the weight of the chest plate is removed from his body, grunting with relief as he rolls his shoulders back a few times.
Next, you move on to his vambraces, unlocking the beskar from his arms. As you work on removing the vambraces, the sleeves of his flight suit ride up and you notice the subtle scars and markings on Din's forearms. You're careful to not drop the one loaded with bullets and other small weaponry.
Your hands move with a practiced gentleness, and you can sense Din's quiet appreciation for the care you're taking.
As the small pieces of armor joins the growing collection of beskar beside you, the room is filled with a sense of intimacy, a shared vulnerability palpable between you two.
Din stands before you now, the upper half of his body free from the encasement of armor. The warmth of his skin is more perceptible, and you can see a slight relaxation in his demeanor.
You move lower now, unfastening the straps securing the beskar that adorns his thighs. Your hands brush against his skin, and that's when he starts to shift side to side. You smile to yourself as you set the pieces to the side, letting your hands drag from the back his knees down to his shins to remove the final pieces.
Beskar greaves protect his shins, and you get on your knees to remove them. You don't miss the way his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you on your knees before him, but he refuses to move a muscle.
Carefully, you unfasten the straps securing the beskar greaves, allowing them to slide down his shins. Your hands move with a deliberate gentleness as you catch them, setting them on top of the stack of armor. Now that all of his armor is removed, you can clearly tell Din is now more relaxed, not as rigid.
His head his angled directly at you, the black t-visor of his helmet piercing through you. You smile softly up at him, pushing yourself to standing but not without him grabbing your hand to help you up.
You know what he's thinking. You know what he wants. He'll just never say it.
You press up onto your toes, placing your hands on his shoulders. His hands finally move, coming to rest on your waist as you lean into where you think his ear would be.
"Later," you whisper seductively, and he firmly squeezes your waist in his grip.
You take a step back, now turning your focus back to his leather gloves. Taking his left hand in yours, you spread his fingers out so you're able to slip his glove off his easier. The leather glove comes off smoothly, revealing his calloused yet gentle hand beneath. You set the glove aside, repeating the action on his other hand.
Din watches you with that unyielding gaze, his helmeted face betraying no emotions, and the tension in the air does anything but subside.
As you remove the second glove, you can't help but admire his hands; how large they, how strong they are. They're the tools of a warrior: skilled and precise, calloused and graceful. With his hands now bare, you step closer to him, your fingers tracing the lineaments of his palm. The warmth of his skin contrasts with the coolness of the beskar that once covered him. His hands are strong, yet there's a gentleness in the way he allows you to explore them.
You finally look up to his helmet, clicking your tongue with disapproval. You couldn't really get his shirt off without stretching out the neck over his helmet, and we can't have that, can we? Poor shirt, all stretched out. Oh well! Looks like we have to see your beautiful riduur's face!
You run your hands on the underside of his helmet, tracing the hard edges with the pads of your fingers. Suddenly, you latch onto the edges and slowly start to pull it up and off his head. Din's breath catches as the helmet is lifted, his nose twitching ever so slightly.
The helmet comes clean off, revealing his face, his dark hair tousled from the snug fit. You're met with his intense gaze, and for a moment, your own breath catches in your throat.
You've seen his face countless times, but every time the helmet comes off, it's as though you're seeing him for the first time over and over again.
His expression is more than it's normal stoicism; it's vulnerable, raw. His big brown eyes come into contact with yours as you reach up, your fingers gently brushing through his messy curls. Din closes his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the contact.
"Hi there, handsome," you murmur softly, allowing your fingers to linger on his strands of hair. "You clean up well, don't you?"
His lips twitch in a hint of a smile, eyebrows quirking at your playful comment.
"Are you going to finish, cyar'ika? Or are you going to finish undressing me with just your eyes?"
You roll your eyes at his remark, fighting back a laugh at his nonchalant comment.
"I guess I do have some unfinished business," you reply, hands tugging at the hem of his shirt.
You guide his shirt up and over his head, pulling it off his form and letting it fall to the floor. You're met with his tanned, toned chest, marked with scars, the silent stories of the battles he's fought.
You run your fingers lightly over the contours of his chest, savoring the feeling of his tight muscles and soft stomach. He shivers under your touch at the way your nails drag across his skin, pressing into it ever so slightly. Din watches you closely, his gaze never leaving your hands. With a soft smile, you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his skin between his shoulder and upper chest.
Din's fingers find their way to your hair, but you pull back, now grabbing the waistband of his pants. You tug them down quickly, helping him step out of the pant legs, but leaving him in his loose boxers.
You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and guide him to the bed. There's no rush, no urgency. For both of you, it's a moment to savor, to appreciate each other in a quiet, peaceful moment. Before he lies down, you pull him down for a chaste kiss, savoring the way his lips taste, the way his patchy mustache tickles your face. As he finally moves to lay down, you wordlessly motion for him to lie on his stomach, and he complies. He settles onto the bed, propping himself up with his forearms.
You retrieve a bottle of oil from a nearby table, and the gentle scent of lavender fills the air as you warm the liquid between your palms. You straddle his lower back, and immediately Din is biting his tongue to withhold any premature sounds.
The moment your hands come into contact with his broad shoulders, he's a goner. Your touch is firm yet tender, your fingers finding all of his knots and tension, coaxing them to release.
The room is quiet, save for the occasional satisfied hum or grunt from Din. As your hands move down his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, you slowly feel the tension in his body dissipating.
Your fingers trace the faint lines of his scars, and you can't help but marvel at the beauty of the man beneath you. He finds solace in your touch, a promise that in this moment, he can let go and just relax.
Din's body responds to your touch, his tension gradually melting away. Your hands move with a soothing rhythm, exploring every inch of his back and shoulders. The oil makes his skin glisten in the soft light of the room, and you revel in the way his body looks as though it was carved by the Maker himself.
As your hands work their way down his spine, you occasionally lean down to press soft kisses on his back. The combination of your mouth and hands on him causes Din to shudder, the sensations pulling him into a deep state of tranquility. The rise and fall of his breath shifts into something more rapid, yet you don't catch on quite yet. You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck, and he responds with a soft hum of contentment
Shifting off his back, you move down to his thighs and calves, continuing to massage his muscles with the same deliberate care. His fingers twist into the thin sheets of his bed, groaning as you knead into his thighs. The tension in Din's muscles seems to subside even more as you move farther down his legs, the oil dripping from your hands creating a smooth glide as you knead his skin.
As your hands move down his legs towards his feet, you notice the subtle tremor in his muscles, a sign that your touch might be affecting him more than he's letting on. You can't see that he's biting the inside of his cheek, stifling every pathetic groan he wants to let out.
You reach the soles of his feet, and he reflexively curls his toes at the sensation. A small chuckle escapes your lips, and you gently press your thumbs into the arches of his feet, eliciting a low, appreciative groan from him.
With a soft smile, you decide to shift the massage to his upper back and shoulders again, allowing your hands to linger in the areas that are the most tense from his heavy beskar. As your fingers work their magic, you lean in close to whisper in his ear.
"Almost done," you murmur, your warm breath sending shivers down his spine. "Does it feel good?"
Din responds with a throaty, affirmative noise, and you can't help but smile at the effect you're having on your typically stoic Mandalorian.
Your hands trace patterns over his skin, kneading, massaging, and occasionally trailing higher than expected. His breathing becomes more uneven, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body.
The atmosphere in the room drastically changes from innocent and relaxed to something more sultry, the air thick with repressed tension. You can sense Din's arousal, the subtle shifts in his breathing, the way his muscles tense beneath your every little touch. A playful smile crosses your lips, realizing the effect you're having on the usually composed man.
The occasional brush of your fingers against more sensitive areas elicits involuntary reactions from Din, his groans growing more audible.
"Enjoying this, aren't you?" you tease, your voice a sultry whisper as you lean down to place soft kisses along his shoulder blades.
"Teasing me, aren't you?" he growls back, looking back at you with a heated expression.
"Maybe a little." You smile innocently. "But the best things are worth the wait, aren't they?"
Din responds with a low, husky chuckle, a sound that reverberates through the room.
"Yes," he states simply, his voice catching in his throat when you slide off his back.
You beckon him to turn over onto his back, and he complies. Once again, you straddle him, now sitting directly on his hips, over his crotch. Taking more lavender scented oil, you lather it onto your hands and start to knead into his chest. His hands reach up to grip your ass, squeezing your flesh.
You feel Din's chest rise and fall faster as your hands start to work over his toned muscles. The oil slicks up his chest, and your fingers glide smoothly over his skin. You can practically feel his desire for you that simmers beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. Din's gaze is intense, and you meet it with a playful yet innocent smile.
"Fuck, cyare," he groans as his hands trail up your sides, the touch possessive yet gentle.
As your hands continue their ministrations on his chest, you lean down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. The taste of his mouth is intoxicating, and Din responds with a hunger that surpasses your own. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you to grind you down over his crotch, and you can feel the pressure of his cock against your core.
"Easy there, Din," you murmur as you pull away from his lips. "We've got plenty of time."
The sound of his name rolling off your lips never gets old to him, and he shudders at the sound.
You sit back, your hands now trailing down his abdomen as you move to sit in between his thighs. Grabbing his hands, you knead into his palms with your thumbs, maintaining an eye contact that you know drives him absolutely crazy. Din's eyes are dark with arousal, and he watches you with a hunger that sends shivers down your spine.
Eventually, you finish the massage after you feel the tension fully dissipate from Din's body. He lies there, relaxed and content, basking in the afterglow of your touch.
Without waiting any longer, you finally give the man what he wants. You bring his hand up to your mouth, and without hesitation, you stick two of his fingers in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his thick digits as you maintain eye contact with him, eliciting a low growl to escape from the depths of Din's throat.
"You- you fuckin' tease, mesh'la," he growls as he starts to sit up. You take your free hand and push him back down, not letting him sit up.
You push his fingers deeper into your mouth, sucking them harder as your tongue runs over the pads of his fingers. Your other hand comes up to his thigh, resting dangerously close to his now fully erect yet still clothed cock.
After a moment, you release his fingers with a wet pop, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Din's breathing has become more ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with anticipation and arousal.
"Feeling better?" you ask innocently, sliding your hands up and down his thighs.
Din nods, swallowing thickly as he locks his eyes onto yours. Without breaking eye contact, you start to slide off your shirt, slowly revealing your skin beneath. Din's gaze intensifies as you slowly lift it up and off your form. Once your shirt is fully off, you let Din rove over your form, and you revel in the way he looks at you with a thirst that mirrors your own.
He tries to reach out for you again, but you stop him.
"I'm still not done. Be patient," you say gently, wiggling your eyebrows at him.
"Mesh'la, how can I be? I have to reward you; you've been so good to me, too good for me—"
You press a finger up to his lips, silencing him.
"Please, let me make you feel good. Please. You always take care of me. Let me take care of you. 'M gonna make you feel so good."
He takes a beat, studying your face with his mouth slightly agape.
Finally, he nods in agreement, his eyes on fire. You remove your finger from his lips, giving him a sickeningly sweet smile.
Your hands trail over his shiny, slick chest, down to the waistband of his boxers. Din's fingers twist in his bedsheets, a silent reaction for what he wants: more.
With deliberate intent, you dip your fingers beneath the waistband, teasingly close to his cock. His arousal is quite evident, straining against the fabric, and your fingers brush over his length; a feather light, teasing touch. He watches you with a hunger that's impossible to ignore, and you can't help but feel giddy at the way you make him feel so good, so appreciated, so loved.
Din inhales sharply, his knuckles going white at the grip he has on his sheets. You move your hands back up and delicately hook your fingers into the waistband, pulling it down slowly. The boxers slide down his legs, revealing his cock, and you discard the fabric on the floor.
You take a moment to appreciate your Mandalorian naked in front of you, vulnerable, and yet as powerful as ever in his raw masculinity. What a sight for sore eyes. Every square inch of his skin is coated in the lavender oil, his skin shining under the dim lighting of the Razor Crest. His body is sculpted perfectly, strong and lean, the power of his muscles evident from one look. The scars that span his skin, small and large, have their own story. You reach out, tracing the lines of a particularly prominent scar on the side of his abdomen with gentle fingertips.
Din studies you with a soft intensity, his eyes holding a warmth that he reserves for you, and only for you.
Your eyes trail up to his face, studying every lineament and pore, every little hair and freckle. He's so extremely handsome you could pass out.
How he chose you, you're not sure. All you know is that this man who has promised to be your protector, stay by your side, and be your partner loves you, and you love him.
"You're beautiful," you murmur, pure admiration coursing through your veins as your fingers now trace the curve of his jaw and the contour of his lips. "Absolutely perfect, in every single way. My big, strong, handsome riduur."
Din's mind goes blank, face and ears heating up as his mouth falls agape. He just studies your eyes, your lips, your nose, every little unique feature you have. Swallowing thickly, Din nods his head just a fraction of an inch, but you catch it; he's acknowledging your words, accepting them in his own way.
Your fingers finally find their way down the shaft of his cock, shifting your attention to his member. His breath hitches as your hand wraps around the base, and you begin to move in a slow, teasing rhythm. His eyes flicker to the sight of your hand wrapped around his cock, staring at the way you pump your fist up and down. Your thumb brushes over the sensitive tip, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Din.
You lean in, pressing a tender kiss to the base of his neck, then to his chest. You start to kiss down further, from the top of his chest to his happy trail.
"Kriff..." he mutters, his hands loosely grabbing at your face.
You keep moving, now pressing kisses on the length of his member. His grip becomes sloppier as your lips trail down his cock towards the tip, pressing a feather light kiss on his leaking slit. He grunts as the sensation, sensitive and aching for your pretty lips to be wrapped around his cock. You give a swirl of your tongue around the tip, earning a sharp, deep moan from Din.
"Kriffing- perfect," he groans, his hips bucking a few times at your touch, begging you for more. His fingers weave through your hair, a silent encouragement.
With that, you finally lower your mouth over his cock, eliciting a long, drawn out moan from the man. You rest your hands on the base of his cock, pumping the bottom half of his length while your mouth takes the top half. Din absolutely revels in the way your mouth feels against his cock; hot, wet, and velvety soft. His head rolls back against his pillow as your hands squeeze tight around the base, stimulating every inch of his length. You take him in your mouth inch by inch, sucking his cock gently at first, but providing more pressure the farther down you go.
"Fuck— fuck- ing perfect, pretty girl," he groans breathlessly, making you hum in satisfaction. His hips involuntarily buck up as he feels the vibrations from your hum, causing the tip of his cock to poke the back of your throat. You choke on it, but you steady your breath enough to keep going down.
Din fights the urge to fuck your mouth, gripping onto his sheets tightly with one hand as his other hand tugs at your hair. You release a quiet moan of your own when he pulls your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper.
Din's eyes are half-lidded now, a primal need burning within them. He watches you with an intensity that makes your own desire flare. His sounds of pleasure, the way his hands feel on you has yourself throbbing with need, your core painfully clenching around nothing. Your panties are surely soaked through by now, your arousal having built up just by making him feel good. You press your thighs together, alleviating the throbbing pressure in your pussy.
You continue to move with purpose, lowering your hands to knead his oily thighs as you take his entire length in your mouth, the tip of cock hitting the back of your throat with each bob of your head. You suck your cheeks in, running your tongue along a prominent vein with each stroke.
His ragged breaths and the soft squelch of your saliva and mouth on his cock fill the room, and suddenly, Din is pawing at you. The need for more becomes undeniable, and Din, unable to restrain himself any longer, pulls you up with a sense of urgency.
"Wanna- come in you—" he gasps, pulling at your neck.
You press your thighs tighter together at his admission, moaning on his cock.
"Kriff, cyar'ika, j- just, please," he grunts, and you lift your head off his cock, saliva dripping down your chin.
When you finally look up at him, his eyes are blown wide with need, and he's fully sitting up now. You feel the sudden shift as he drags you onto his lap, his still erect cock pressing into your stomach. You push up onto your knees as Din's hand desperately claws at the hem of your pants, yanking both your pants and panties off at the same time as he mouths the tops of your still covered breasts. Once your bottoms are off, he unclasps your bra expertly, letting it fall to the side.
Once you're bare in front of him, he laps his tongue over your breast, sucking at your nipple as his other hand squeezes and massages your other. The sensation send an electric jolt through your body, and a soft moan escapes your lips. Din's touch is both possessive and tender, his free hand coming to knead the flesh of your ass.
In one solid motion, Din is lifting you up high by your hips, positioning you over his cock. Utterly desperate and aching for your cunt around his cock, he slams your hips down, splitting you open on his cock inside your dripping cunt. Your hands fly up to his shoulders, a warbled scream and moan slipping from the both of you as he plunges deep inside of you, filling you up perfectly. You give yourself a moment to breath, steadying your breath. When he rolls his hips once, you whimper.
"Maker, y- you feel so good," you moan, biting your bottom lip in pleasure.
You squeeze his cock tightly, back arching as you feel every ridge of his cock inside you. His hands squeeze your hips tightly as your hands run down to his chest, and you start placing open mouthed, messy kisses on his jawline and neck. He lets you adjust around him, giving you some time to feel his cock molded perfectly inside you.
"Take me so good...s- so kriffing p- perfect, my beautiful riduur," he growls, fondling your breasts as you sit on his cock. Your thighs press against his as you try to clench your thighs at his words, darting your tongue out to give his skin kitten licks.
Ever so slowly, you start to roll your hips against his, moaning at the sensation. Din hisses, forehead falling on your sternum, his hot breath fanning against your breasts.
"Riduur," he groans again, darting his tongue out over the tops of your breasts again. "Ride me."
Your hands find their way into his dark curls, tugging at them lightly as you start to lift yourself up his cock. The drag of your pussy against Din's cock makes him shudder in pure ecstasy, moving his head to rest in the crook of your neck.
"You- you're the best thing that's e- ever happened to me," you whisper in his ear, then you sink all the way back down on his cock.
He moans, sucking bruises onto the junction between your shoulder and neck. Din's face is flushed from your words and the way you feel on top of him. You lift yourself up a few inches and drop back down, relishing in the way he feels underneath you.
"Never thought I'd find s- someone like you, cyare," he admits in his gravelly voice, tightening his grip on you. "Someone I- I could c- come back to."
"You're m- my home, Din," you reply, your voice a breathy whisper.
You start to set a steady pace, rocking and grinding on his cock. Din grunts at the sudden change in pace, helping you up and off his cock as his broad hands help lift you up and down by your hips. With each bounce, his cock stretches you out deliciously, dragging along your slick walls with ease.
You move your hand down to your catch your clit, circling the bud slowly, building up the pressure bubbling in your core. Your back arches as you start to tease yourself, pussy clenching harder around his cock. Din's head is thrown back in pleasure, hands firmly on your hips as you keep bouncing, reveling in the way you squeeze slightly tighter around him.
Your walls start to flutter around him at the stimulation of your clit, picking up the pace as you chase your orgasm. You lock eyes with his, the rhythm of your hips against his causing him to paw at every square inch of your body.
With your free hand, you guide his strong jaw towards your face, capturing his lips in a searing, passionate kiss. You don't stop moving on top of his cock as you slip your tongue into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on his bottom lip with each kiss. His lips are warm and demanding against yours, responding with a fervor that has you leaning back.
The taste of Din is intoxicating, yet something you can never quite put your finger on. His low growls mix with your soft moans, your hands threading in his curls.
Din breaks the kiss, but rests his forehead on yours. His pants mingle with yours, warm breath tickling your nose.
"Can't believe I'm so lucky," Din grits, and without hesitation, he deftly maneuvers you until you're lying on your back.
You admire the way his chest heaves with a controlled intensity as he hovers over you, his cock still fully sheathed inside you to the hilt. Moving his hands, he presses your legs up against your chest, angling them in such a way to allow for a deeper penetration. The newfound angle sends waves of pleasure coursing through each of you, each movement building up the pressure in your lower muscles.
"Maker, Din," is all you can say as his cock reaches deeper inside you. You're utterly engrossed in everything about him; how perfectly he fucks you, how he protects you, how he always puts others before himself, how he never backs down from a challenge.
You watch as his mouth drops open when he starts to move again, pounding into you with a slow, measured pace. Every motion has your hot, soaking walls sucking him in greedily.
"Fuck me so perfectly, you're perfect," you murmur as Din pulls your legs up onto his hips, effectively spreading you wide open. His whole chest presses flush against yours, kissing your words away when he leans in.
Your hands fly down to grip his forearms that cage you under his body, nails pressing into his skin as he fucks you slowly. Each thrust is met with a soft whimper into Din's mouth as he takes his time, relishing the way your chest feels against his own. The measured pace of his movements builds a heavy tension in your core, drawing out the pleasure and anticipation with each deliberate stroke.
Din's hand finds your clit again, pressing his thick digits against your swollen bud. The added pressure sends electric pulses through your body, and your back arches involuntarily as the pleasure intensifies. Your pussy clenches around his cock, drawing a throaty groan from Din, who revels in the tight embrace of your walls.
"So strong, s- so good," you gasp, your words punctuated by your unrestrained sounds of pleasure.
"S' perfect, cyare," he murmurs against your lips breathlessly, pressing a kiss on your lips once again. He nips and bites at your bottom lip relentlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to you as you mewl into his mouth. Your fingers find their way back into his soft hair, scratching your fingernails on the base of his scalp.
With each enthusiastic response from you, he quickens his pace, the unforgiving rhythm pushing you both closer to the edge.
The feeling of his cock moving inside you faster and harder elicits a cascade of moans and whimpers from your lips, your clit being stimulated nearly to the point of your impending release. He's fucking you hard into the mattress, unrelenting in the way he wants to feel every part of you.
Din, ever the attentive man, knows you're about to cum just from the way your face contorts, from the way your body reacts to the slightest touch.
You can also feel him nearing the edge, the tension in his body reaching its peak with each stroke. His skin is warm and still slick with the lavender-scented oil, intoxicating your senses and making your mind go blank.
"Please, come in me," you beg, wrapping your legs around Din's waist to pull him closer to you. "Please, please, Din."
His skin glides against yours, your hands travel across the expanse of his back, feeling the flex of his muscles as he moves with unrestrained strength.
Din's eyebrows are pinched in pleasure, mouth parted open as he pants. His fingers find the sweet spot of your clit, causing you to nearly scream in pleasure.
"That's it," Din encourages, coaxing your orgasm out of you as he maintains the pressure around your sweet spot.
Before you know it, you're cumming around Din's cock. The first contraction of your cunt around his cock has Din shuddering from his own orgasm, the feelings of your muscles spasming around him pushing him over the edge. His breathing is erratic, hot against your skin.
You writhe underneath Din, whimpering his name as you ride out your orgasm. Din pulls you in for a messy kiss as he cums inside of you, cupping your jaw with one hand as he guides your lips to his in a searing kiss.
Settling down from his orgasm, Din falls on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.
Your hands run up and down his back, soothing him with the light scratching of your nails against his skin.
The gentle scratching of your nails against Din's back seems to lull him into a state of relaxation, his body going lax on top of yours. His breath and mustache tickles the sensitive flesh of your neck.
Both of you are still panting, trying to catch your breaths from your shared climax. Din's weight atop of you feels grounding, a comforting, welcoming presence that reminds you once again that he is yours.
"Feel better?" you inquire softly, your hands coming to rest around his neck.
Din lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours with a tenderness he reserves only for you.
Din mumbles in agreement, his body completely pliant in your hands. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, the remnants of his panting gradually subsiding.
"Thank you," he murmurs, eyes studying your face intently. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum."
Your fingers move from his neck to gently trace lines over Din's flushed cheeks, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.
"I love you."
Din's eyes soften even more. His hands, calloused and strong, come up to gently cradle your face. Thumbs brush over your cheeks in a tender caress, as if he's committing the feeling to memory.
He pulls you in for another kiss, a sweet, tender meeting of your lips in the aftermath of your care for him.
A thank you, if you will.
As Din's lips part from yours, he rests his forehead against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.
You snuggle close to him, the scent of lavender surrounding you both. In the quiet aftermath, the only sound that remains is the beating of your hearts.
. . .
Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) Masterlist
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ourautumn86 · 1 year
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comin in hot with a twt link! (Dont know if i did wrong or not im new to these ^^) Idk if you write for din djarin or not but i can just imagine him doing this as he takes out his frustrations on your pussy cause the bounty went sideways. but this could also be seen as joel if a smuggling deal went wrong. Your pick! <3 much love!!
https://twitter.com/OrgasmGifs/status/1619378756648574978?t=XxqL71XHdg891aZOifJB5g&s=19
oh lord, this is pure filth. 😭😮‍💨
din djarin x fem reader!
minors don’t interact, +18 content!
cw; rough sex, choking, manhandling, dirty talking, degradation, praising, piv sex, unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, cockwarming, dom! din x sub! reader, nipple playing, name calling (whore, slut…), …
“fuck.” your eyes shot open when you heard something crashing on the salon, along with the voice of who you recognized was din, your boyfriend.
your eyes still felt heavy with sleep, but your mind was slowly coming alive as you got up from bed.
“din?” you called out for him, he was giving you his back, armor still on except for his helmet—which he had thrown across the room—. he looked exhausted, but mostly of all exasperated, furious.
he didn’t seem to have heard you, and you stepped closer. “din, what’s-“ but before you knew it, there was a hand pinning your wrists to the wall behind your back and another surrounding your neck. from your lips fell a gasp that got caught in between his as he furiously kissed you. he groaned, pushing you harder against the wall, all air leaving your lungs. he was kissing you as if you were the last thing he could hold onto.
“din, what’s going-” you moaned when his clothed thigh pushed in between your naked ones, roughly pressing against your panties and your cunt. your hands messed with his hair and tugged when he freed your wrists and pulled your shirt upwards ‘till your bare chest was exposed for him to lick and suck onto.
“shut the fuck up.” he ordered, quieting you, letting you know what you needed to do, and that was to close your mouth and take what he gave you. and if what he needed to gave you was his anger, his frustration, and stress. you will take it.
you whimpered when his lips sucked on your nipple, the hand that now stood free grabbing at your hip to grind you on his thigh, making you sigh and whine, your panties growing wetter and wetter at his roughness.
“din…” you begged, and he groaned on your chest, sucking bruises that now beautifully decorated your perfect tits.
in a swift motion he was manhandling you with his strong arms, pulling you back into your room and pinned you onto the bed under his weight. it was rough, the way he kissed you, the way he pulled off your shirt, the way his hands were digging on your skin. but it hurt so good…
“fuck.” he muttered against your nipples when a high pitched and pornographic moan left your lips as his fingers sneaked inside your panties and met your wet core, his fingertips dripping on you.
your hips jolted against his touch when he teased you, his fingers dipping on your slick and merely brushing your clit, making your whole body shake in need. need for him.
“din please…” you begged, and he smirked.
“what a good girl…” he muttered against your neck as his fingertips pressed against your clit, making sparks fill your vision. “such good manners…” you whimpered, the praise only making you eager for him, needier. “being so good to me.” you screamed when he suddenly plunged two of his thick fingers inside of you, immediately finding your g spot. you couldn’t help but arch your bag, your eyes shutting close as he started to fuck them in and out of you. “listen to her…” he smirked, his dick painful hard in between his thighs at the sounds your cunt was making for him, sticky and perfectly ready for him to fuck into. “so ready for me…” you moaned, your cheeks burning due to the sounds that your arousal surrounding his fingers made.
“din…” you sighed his name, your hips rocking onto his fingers, needing him deeper. needing him to go harder, treat you badly, love you in that harsh way that made your mind reel… you were whimpering as he split you open with his fingers, brushing your g spot with every curl of his digits. it was needy, and harsh, it almost hurt, but you couldn’t possibly need him anymore than this. your whole body was like a magnet begging for his touch, needing him to touch you.
his patience seemed to be running out as he saw you fall apart, his cock pressed against your thigh as he grasped at your tits, tugging at the nipples just like he knew you liked.
the air in your lungs disappeared when in a quick flip he had down on your stomach, his rough hand landing a harsh spank to your ass, making you jolt and hiss.
in between the dizziness and hunger that enveloped you, you heard him push down his pants and underwear, too far gone to even care about the fact that you were beautifully naked under him and he was still on his goddamn armor, completely dressed.
you whined as one of his hands pulled you upwards so your ass would be sticking out for him, your glistening pussy begging for attention, your slick coating your mound and your thighs. you were soaking wet, drowning in desire.
he didn’t even tease you, didn’t even wait for you to get adjusted to his size before he was fucking you open with his huge cock. his tip brushed your cervix with every harsh thrust and you were withering and dissolving under his touch.
“fuck.” he groaned, his whole body shaking at the feeling of your cunt tightening around him and sucking him in every time he’d try and pull out just to thrust back in. it was as if your body was begging for him to stay inside, to fuck you full of him, for him to not go. “so good…” his pace spiked up, and your hands were holding onto your sheets for dear life, your body shaking with every snap of his hips against your ass. his balls met your cunt with every one of them, getting soaked on you. they felt so heavy… so full and ready to empty themselves in you… “you’re always so fucking good to me, pussy so ready to be filled up, huh?” he teased, and you whimpered as your walls tightened around him, making him groan. “such a fucking slut for dick. look at you…, already so close to cumming all over my cock…”
“din!” you cried out when his dick reached that deep spot inside of you that no one had ever been able to reach before, making your sight go blank.
“you gonna cum, honey? gonna cum for me?” his breathing was ragged, his pace needy. the sight in front of him was like heaven; you drooling all over your sheets, moans getting cut off by his thrusts and your cunt dripping only for him. you nodded, begging for him to let you cum, he almost bursted at your cries. “go ahead baby, soak my cock.” and you did, with moans and whimpers falling off your lips, your mind going black at the strength of your orgasm, which made your whole body shake and your walls to get impossibly tighter around him.
“shit.” he groaned, fucking you though it, feeling your cum coat the curls on the base of his cock, the wetness and warmth of it.
“din!!” you whimpered when his pace only sped up, the overstimulation becoming too much. you tried and get away from him, crawl your way on the bed, but he only tugged you closer, pinning you down onto the duvet ‘till only your hips were detached from it, spreading you open for him to fuck into. his right hand harshly gripped your neck from the back of your head, making sure you wouldn’t move, that you wouldn’t get away from him. you were sure there would be bruises on his fingertips decorating your waist tomorrow morning, but you wouldn’t care. “din, please…”
you screamed as he started to piston inside of you, unable to quiet your sobbing and whimpers. “don’t fucking move.” he groaned, feeling his own release start to build. “take it. be the good whore you are and fucking take it.” he gritted in between his teeth.
your eyes were rolling to the back of your head, your jaw slack and spit dribbling to the sheets. your mind felt hazy, your body heavy as he fucked you towards your second orgasm, which was building faster and harder than the first.
“that’s it. good girl.” he smirked when your own body started to thrust backwards, begging for more. “good. fucking. girl.” his thrust cut every one of his words.
“din, gonna cum, gonna-, fuck!” your eyes were rimmed by tears, your legs shaking and about to let you fall onto the mattress. thank god he was holding you up, manhandling you just like he would a goddamn toy for him to fuck.
“that’s it baby. cum for me. good girl.” you were falling apart as he hit your sweet spot one, two, three more time before your orgasm came crashing down like a tidal wave, drowning you under water. “fuck, so fucking tight.” he groaned, his cock twitching at how your walls were tightening. “gonna cum baby. gonna fill this pretty and wet cunt of yours.” you moaned. “yeah? you want it, baby? want my cum?” you whimpered, nodding, babbling however you could multiples ‘yes’ that slurred their way out of your lips. “fuck. take it baby, fucking take it.” he groaned, and his cock twitched as he emptied himself inside of you, painting your pussy on cum and filling you up so good you could only wither and moan at the feeling.
you fell with him to the mattress, your bodies sticky and spent. he had for sure fucked his frustrations in you.
he quickly undressed, holding you with your back against his wide chest, his strong arms surrounding your waist. you whimpered when his soft cock pushed his cum all inside once again when he seated himself in your cunt. “i know baby, i know…” he cooed, leaving soft pecks and kisses in the expanse of your neck and shoulders. “gotta keep it all warm and inside for you baby.” he muttered against your skin, and soon enough your eyes were closing once again, now completely spent due to his rough fucking.
-
a/n; oh lord, hope y’all liked it, love you! 😭😮‍💨
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ilovelosermen69 · 8 months
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My emotional attachment to fictional men that kill people is insane.
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deantavias · 1 year
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i know "gn!reader" means gender neutral, but, my brain always short-circuits to goodnight reader!
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chaotic-iguana · 9 months
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HI OMG UR FICS ARE INTOXICATING WTH!!!
Can I please req a Din Djarin where he and the reader are travelling together and reader is bubbly/sunshine personality and then she admits her feelings and Din doesn’t reciprocate at first.. then her personality changes and she’s all sad and he can’t stand it!!!! Cause he does love her and he can’t bare to see her that way!!!
Super angst and fluff please 😭😭😭😭 THANK H IF U DECIDE TO WRITE THIS 🤍🤍
HELLO THANK YOU SO MUCH!! ofc im writing anything u request lysm ur the best plus the prompt is so adorable ahufsdkfjhfs. just to try sumth new, im gonna switch it up and do this one from din’s pov. lmk what you think!!
Enough
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Summary: Din rejects reader when she confesses her feelings to him even though he feels the same, only to regret it later.
Pairing: Grumpy! Din x Sunshine! Reader (no use of y/n)
Wordcount: 2.6k
Warnings: none, just a lot of angst and fluff
masterlist
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Din Djarin was not a good man. He was aware of this, which is why he was careful not to get to close. Not to taint things with his darkness; the destruction that seemed to shadow him wherever he went. He learned to turn his head away when you sung softly to the child, to clench his fists and keep himself from reaching for you when you giggled at your own terrible (adorable) jokes, to steel himself against your pleas to purchase every single fuzzy fabric you saw, no matter the form. Socks, blankets, shirts, trousers, even a kriffing hat, which Din stopped and let you buy just to stop the stares he was getting from people at the way you were practically jumping in your spot, pointing at the shop’s display. 
But despite his best wishes, Din was not a strong man, either. Not as strong as he needed to be, to resist you. You, with a beaming smile that never failed to make him blush under his helmet; with tender, caring hands that looked so soft that Din wanted to rip his beskar off so you could brush them against him, just once. Your hair, which smelled so sweet that Din could catch traces of it through the beskar. Your eyes, almost siren-like when you blinked up at him while rambling away about something. The way you scrunched your nose with a snort when you couldn’t hold in a laugh. The fact that you had never, ever asked for his name - or an explanation of his helmet, for that matter - even when he knew you hadn’t heard of Mandalorians before. The lilting notes of laughter in your voice before you turned to him with a sly smile, offering him with a witty quip he would have killed others for voicing, before throwing back your head and howling. No, Din was nowhere near strong enough to stand a single damn chance against you. 
He could hear you humming to yourself and the baby while you heated some broth, stopping to lean down and pepper kisses all over Grogu’s face as he cooed happily. Walking into the cockpit, he grunted in acknowledgement of your “Hey, Mando! Sleep well?” before turning to the child and nudging his helmet against his wrinkly forehead. When he turned around to see a gentle smile gracing your face in acknowledgement of the scene in front of you, he straightened up and cocked his helmet as if daring you to comment. 
He was itching for a fight: something, anything to stop the sweet torture of your presence which seemed to breathe life into your surroundings, no matter where you stood. You’d find a way to brighten a graveyard, Cyar’ika. Your smile tightened slightly before you presented him with a bowl of his own, brushing past him to take the child in your arms and leave the cockpit. Every muscle in his body was tense, his mind begging him to let you stay, to apologise for his hostility. To hear you prattle on about something menial while he ate, to revel in the domesticity of being with you. Not like that, of course. You were simply too good for him. Too perfect; too pristine. Your eyes too bright and your heart too soft for him to be worthy of your love. And so Din slipped off his helmet, ducked his head, and ate in silence.
He had noticed that lately, you still spoke to him, but you’d leave with the child more often. He could hear conspiratorial whispers sometimes, the child nodding and babbling his own input as if the two of you were hiding something. You weren’t awkward around him, per se, just less readily giving of your laughter, your jokes, your mindless chatter. All Din knew was that his mind would not rest unless he confronted you, and soon. A restless yearning for your erratic, unnecessarily bright gestures gave way to the anxiety spooling in his gut. Had you finally seen him for what he is?
So later that day, after the supply run when you had fed and put Grogu to sleep, he approached you in the cockpit. He shuffled uneasily behind you, shifting his weight from side to side as he waited for you to break the silence. But uncharacteristically, you just continued to stare into hyperspace without a word. When Din cleared his throat, you turned your head his way. But your gaze was flitting around; your hands fiddling nervously in your lap. Why were you apprehensive? 
“Are you…” Din swallowed, unsure of how to phrase his question, “okay?” Are we okay?You looked up at him then, your eyes wide with anxiety, before looking down at your lap again. Could you be…scared? Of me? 
But then you took a deep breath; the nerves fading from your face and giving way to a look of complete resignation, your shoulders slumping with the weight of inevitability. Your gaze met his visor, and he could see that your fingers were lightly curled into fists.
“I don’t really know how to do this, Mando.” Another deep breath. The colour has faded from your face and suddenly you seemed so small, folded in on yourself, that Din had never had to wrestle harder with his own self-control to stop himself from pulling you into his chest and holding you; comforting you, until you’re back to your bouncy self. “You know that I like most people, right?” He nods; you do seem to like and be liked by most people he’s come across, even the ones he would deem unworthy to so much as look at you. 
“I’ve always really enjoyed meeting new people, and making friends. Life is easier when you’ve got people, right?” You’re rambling again, but instead of the usual enthusiasm lacing your tone, crippling worry dripped from your every word. Are you leaving him? 
“I think-I know that I like you more than I like everyone else. Anyone else. I like everything about you more than I’ve ever liked about anyone else and I just…” you trailed off, gulping. “It feels like you and Grogu are my family, already. And I guess I just can’t help but wonder if you might want more than this, like I do. I-fuck it-I’m in love with you, Mando.” And then you’re shying away from him again, biting your lip as you search his visor for a reaction. 
You’re in love with him? This has to be a joke. Din waited for the catch, standing unmovingly in front of you as if waiting for one of your signature punchlines to come tumbling out of your mouth. When it doesn’t, he just gaped at you, his mind overwhelmed with too many thoughts to even say anything. A part of him had never been happier than this moment right here; never loved you more than right now. But the other, more dominant part of him was practically reprimanding him. And what now, idiot? Profess your undying love to her and subject her to a life as the wife of a bounty hunter? No comfortable homes, no proper vacations or even neighbors. A life on the run. With you, dikuit - a man who has never been loved enough to understand how to reciprocate. There is nothing you can give her. There is nothing you can do. 
Din bristled under your gaze, suppressing a wince at the words that came out of his mouth next. “You mean to tell me that you are in love with a man you have never even see the face of? A man who hasn’t even told you his name? Stop lying to yourself. There is no ‘family’. You are the child’s caretaker, and nothing more. It would be best for you not to forget that in the future.” He wanted to slap a hand to his mouth, to bite his tongue - anything, anything not to see the way you wilted in front of him as his words registered. You slumped further in the chair, shoulders curving inwards as you brought your knees to your chest to curl up into a protective position, as if he was hurting you. Frustrated by the fact that he could neither pull you in his arms to comfort you, nor find it in himself to continue spewing bullshit he didn’t mean, Din just turned and walked away. He pretended not to hear the muffled crying echoing through the ship that night. 
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That had been three weeks ago. He’d gone for a hunt right after, returning within the week. What he found back at the ship made a part of him wish he wouldn’t have returned at all. Your eyes sat bloodshot on hollow cheeks, sunken in your face as dark blotches formed under them. You were quiet, even with the concerned child - all the singing, humming goneas if it had never been. Grogu kept gesturing to you when he father looked his way, as if asking what was wrong. Din knew what was wrong. He just didn’t know how to fix it. He couldn’t find it in himself to leave you alone again, so he’d been mumbling excuses to you each morning as to why he was still on the ship. You’d never answer, just offering him the barest dip of your chin. Din hadn’t just rejected you-he’d been cruel about it. And he hadn’t slept since the night he’d spat those pathetic words at you in an effort of self-preservation, either. The moment kept replaying in his head over and over: your initial nervousness, the words you’d said to him, and your wince at the ones he’d reciprocated with. 
But like he’d admitted: Din Djarin was not a strong man. For you; only for you, he would crumble. To see your usual cheeriness replaced by this emptiness nearly made his knees buckle. You’d stopped eating, too - quietly slipping your food to Grogu, whose concern was overridden by his constant hunger. He’d done this: out of fear of hurting you, he’d reduced you to a mere shadow of what you used to be by doing it anyways. Out of his fear of fucking it up, he’d gone and done that exact thing without even trying to make it work. It was unacceptable to him, to go without hearing your laugh or your jokes or your humming. Not to see you giggling with Grogu. Fix it then, dikuit. So he would. 
Din walked into the cockpit, picked Grogu up from his place on the floor, and whispered a soft apology to him before shutting him in his cot. Grogu, ever-understanding, had just pressed a claw to his helmet and nodded as if wishing him luck. Thanks kid, I’m going to need it. He’d seen your confusion when he had taken Grogu out of the cockpit, but youremained mute. Walking back towards you, Din could feel his chest hurting at the way your hands shook and your eyes glossed over when he got closer. 
“I’m sorry.” His words have no effect; a tilt of your head is the only proof you offer to show that you heard him. Ironic, isn’t it, to be at the receiving end of what I do to others all the time? “For how harsh I was. I didn’t mean it.” Your mouth opens this time, but he raises a hand to stop you. If he doesn’t get this out now, he never will. “I was the one lying to myself, not you. I fell in love with you a long, long time ago, ner’karta. But I was scared-still am-because I have nothing good to give you. Not like what you deserve. My creed alone means that I can’t show you my face until we get married. My job doesn’t allow me stability. I have never been…loved. I do not know how to love you properly. All I know is that it doesn’t feel like a good morning until you say it, that I feel myself flushing under my beskar when you smile at me, that I have to bite my lip to stop a chuckle when you tell me your jokes. All I know is that since you’ve come into my life and made it brighter, it seems I can’t face the darkness alone again. These past two weeks have been hell, cyar’ika. I cannot bear to see you like this. Please forgive me. I will drop you off anywhere you wish to go.” 
And then your face is twisting and you’re sobbing - large, shuddering sobs that alarm Din when they begin. He reaches a tentative hand out towards you slowly, giving you more than enough opportunity to slap it away. When you don’t, he steps closer and pulls you into his chest. As I should have done then. You shake with the force of your hiccups, and Din reaches to rip off his gloves before wrapping his arms around you, a warm hand coming to cradle your head against him. All he can say is a feverish repetition of “I’m sorry, I’m sorrymy love, please forgive me”. 
By the time your tears subside, you can hear sniffs coming from under the helmet too; his modulated voice cracking and giving away his own crying. “Y-you don’t get to-to decide for me. You can’t decide whether or not you can offer enough or whether you can love me properly or not. Just love me, Mando. All you have to do is try.” Your voice is so fragile, so tentative as you speak into his chest that Din’s heart aches at the pain he can hear in it. You continue, “I don’t need stability from you, nor do I need your name or face. To have your heart is enough.” And though you can’t see it, Din has to shut his eyes and brace himself against the weight of his own tears this time. His chest warming, butterflies in his stomach as he tucks you impossible closer.
“Like I said, cyar’ika, you’ve had it for a very long time.” And then you’re smiling again, as Din’s knees threaten to buckle from the force of emotion that wells up at the sight. You’ve pulled back from his chest, but stay close enough to graze his helmet with your nose.
“Is that so, Mando? Do I want to know how long?” You whisper back, somehow looking straight into his eyes despite the visor. 
“Din.” At your frown, he clarifies hesitantly. “My name, cyar’ika. Din Djarin.” You beam brighter, repeating it to yourself. “Wait - cyar’ika? You started calling me that last year, when you were annoyed I bought that fuzzy green hat with frog ear and Grogu tried to eat it on the way home. I thought it was like a swear word, or something -not that I think you would swear at me, you just seemed very annoyed, you know?”
A chuckle slips past his modulator, before he gives in completely. “Close your eyes, please.” When you comply, he rips his helmet off and cups your jaw with his hand, thumb stroking your cheek. Leaning in, he presses his mouth to yours gently, leaning back to look at you. “Beloved, cyare. It means beloved.” Before he can say anything else, your hands tangle in his hair, and suddenly you’re pulling him back into another kiss. And another. And another. 
You two remain so wrapped up in each other that you actually forget to leave the cockpit until Grogu stomps in, having apparently broken out of his cot, and begins babbling at you both angrily, before seeing the smile on your face after so long and hurtling towards you at full speed, nearly tripping on his robes in the process before you catch him in your arms. 
It was true, though. You didn’t need Din to go out of his way to give you anything. This was enough. 
hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore
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lincolndjarin · 6 months
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Best Kept Secret
chapter twenty five : wedding bells
ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧
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pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader
rating : 18+ mdni
word count : 11.7k
summary : a plan to finally leave Naboo is set in motion.
warnings, etc. : language, smut, angst, canon typical violence, allusions to sexual assault, threatened sexual assault (a guy threatens reader, and is gross), vomit (reader pukes once, it isn't described in detail), oral f!receiving, p in v, creampie, din's breeding kink, teasing, orgasm delay, probably other things i missed sorry
a/n : genuinely sorry about how long this took, it's been a pretty rough month for me and it's been hard to focus, especially when i'm also trying to keep up with kinktober, i promise in november. my upload schedule will do back to normal. i've sort of been dreading writing this chapter for a long time just because i've known how i've wanted it to go for so long and i just wanted it to be right, double apologies bc idk when the next chapter will be out because it's gonna be a double release but i will keep everyone posted. also i super rushed the edit on this so like if there's a big glaring error feel free to message me about it.
comments and reblogs are appreciated !!
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. 
The morning he’d left you’d gone back to bed, you couldn’t think of anything to do without him so you just slept, dismissing the girls when they came to dress you. Your makeshift bed is colder than ever as you toss and turn for a few minutes before finally rising. You managed to find a dress that wouldn’t require much assistance to put on, stepping into it before leaving only to find Leodall waiting outside your door. 
“Can I help you?” You give him a perplexed look as he clears his throat. 
“I’ve been tasked with protecting you while the Mandalorian is away.” 
What the hell is Leo supposed to do if you’re in danger?
“Is this Kodo’s doing?” You fight back the frown that threatens to form on your face.
“No ma’am. The Mandalorian instructed me to keep an eye on you.” 
Bastard. 
Of course he didn’t tell you Leo was going to be watching you while he was gone, he knew you’d be livid, which you are. You know better than to fight this, Leo’s terrified of Din, he’ll do whatever he asks of him. With a sigh you begin to make your way to the library, hearing his flustered steps behind you. 
You don’t want to be stuck with him in the library all day so you simply grab a handful of books before making a hasty return to your room. Much to your chagrin, he follows you in, keeping a watchful eye on you as you read. 
He does all sorts of nonsense.
He sweeps, and dusts, and fusses. Nothing is ever clean enough for him. You tell him it’s fine dozens of times but he just won’t stop insisting. He takes the sheets off the bed to be washed despite you telling him you don’t even sleep there. 
His orange complexion goes damn near white when he discovers that you’ve been sleeping on the closet floor. You explain to him with as much patience as you can muster that nothing he can do will stop you from sleeping in there and you find a compromise where he thoroughly washes every single blanket, sheet, and pillow while you try not to scowl at him. 
And he won’t stop talking. 
He doesn’t seem to take the hint. You can sigh and groan as much as you want to when you look up over your book at him but he just keeps going. 
The only time he goes silent is when you have to attend dinner with your husband. Leo accompanies you as Din would, standing behind you as you take your seat at the dining hall table.
Kodo looks… tired? 
You’ve seen plenty of emotions on that smug face of his, but exhaustion? Never. 
“Let’s make this quick.” He doesn’t even look at you as he takes a swig of whatever’s in his mug. You don’t grace him with a verbal response, just a nod and a hum as you take a sip from your own glass, hoping the water will soothe your nerves. 
They don’t even bring out any food as he writes something down, shuffling through the papers in front of him. 
“I don’t have a lot of time today…” He finally looks up at you, there are bags under his eyes and you can’t help but wonder what’s gotten to a man who seemingly cares about nothing. “Let’s get started, shall we?” He sits up a little straighter, giving you that smile you’ve grown to hate more than anything else in this castle. “My father is ill.” 
“I’m so sorry, my prince.” Your sympathies are emotionless, you don’t remember what his father is like. If he’s anything like the rest of his relatives you’re certain you wouldn’t care for him. 
“Don’t be, this is a good thing.” Of course his father’s sickness would be a positive to him. “They’ve already transferred many of his royal duties over to me.” Hence the exhaustion. “This is a very good thing, wife. You could be queen by the end of the month.” Your stomach lurches at the thought. 
Being queen means making heirs. 
“How wonderful.” You stare at him, really taking him in for the first time in a while. Maybe it’s just because you know exactly how ugly he can be but right now you have to wonder how anyone considers him attractive. You don’t even know what Din looks like but you know that purely based on his actions that he’s more attractive to you than this. 
“I don’t have much else for you, you are excused.” You blink at him a few times as he says it before shooting a confused look at Leo who looks as puzzled as you. 
“You don’t want to have dinner?” You try to not sound excited at the idea of leaving already as he nods. 
“I already ate.” He’s already ignoring you all over again, his eyes back on his work as he waves you off. 
So you go back to your room, smiling the entire time.  
You read, you eat when Leo brings you food, and you sleep. 
And that’s the routine. 
For nearly a week that’s what you do. 
You wake, you let Leo in when he knocks, you deal with it when he fusses, and you sleep. 
But really what you spend most of your time doing is missing Din. 
You miss the way he smells, and the way he balances you out. It feels like you’re missing an integral part of yourself, you’ve grown so accustomed to his constant presence and the sudden lack of it is jarring. He made the castle feel like home and without him it returned to its former glory, a prison. 
Just as promised he returns, you’d hoped it would have been sooner but you’re just happy he’s back. You’d assumed the moment you laid eyes on him that you’d jump his bones immediately, but all you could think about was just how happy you were to see him. 
You just want to be with him. 
So you do just that.
And you take care of him, because it makes you happy to care for him the way he does for you. You don’t ask him about the trip, you know he’ll tell you about it when he’s ready. 
In the morning you hold him tight, and you tell him what you were told at dinner. That the king is sick, and you both know what that means. 
Despite the looming darkness, the morning is relatively normal after that. 
Until you get to the library.
He’d been staring at you for some time and you were just about to ask if he was okay when he spoke. 
“Do you know what riduur means?” 
Spouse. 
You’d seen it in the book while he was away. You’d focused on learning words that would most likely be relevant to your life with him. 
“No, I don’t think I learned that.” You’re mostly just curious if he’ll actually tell you. 
“It means partner, or spouse.” He sounds nervous, it makes your heart skip a beat. 
“Oh. Okay…”
He nods and you can’t help but be disappointed at his lack of followup. You try not to stare, keeping an eye on him as you return to your own book, in your peripherals you can see that he doesn’t even try to pretend to read, he’s just staring at you again. You get ready to shut your eyes when he starts playing with his helmet controls but he doesn’t remove it, instead he takes your face in his hands.
“Can I ask you something?” There’s no modulation as you hear his raw, unfiltered voice. His thumbs rub small circles into your jaw. 
Is this happening? Now? Or is he joking around again? 
“Of course.” You’ve been ready since the first time you thought this was happening. 
“Do you remember when I described the fear of love to you?”
Definitely not a joke. 
“Yes.” You couldn’t possibly forget it, you still feel it everyday. 
“Do you ever feel that fear?” 
Every single second of every single day. 
“Yes.” 
“I don’t want you to.” He releases your face, taking your hands in his instead. “I don’t want to either.” 
If he’s about to break up with you again you’re gonna kill him. You might actually push him out the window, he’ll be fine, he has his pack. 
“I don’t want our lives to be that. I want to leave, soon.” You sit up in his lap, the nook is a mess of tangled limbs and fabric from the skirt of your gown at this point. “B- but I want us to do something before we leave.” He’s usually so put together when he talks to you like this. Slow, well calculated words, but he’s stuttering a bit now, his voice nearly cracking as you give his hands a reassuring squeeze. 
“Okay.”
“Okay.” He repeats, nodding to himself before the helmet tilts up with a whisper of your name, it’s the first time you’ve heard your real last name and not Harand, in a long time. “I love you.” 
“I love you too.” You really do.
“I have lived my entire life in hiding, behind masks and walls.” He takes your hand, bringing it to the lip of his helmet as he takes your fingertips, bringing them under it to hold them to his lips. “I can’t, and I won’t do that forever. I have said it before and I will say it again, I have no secrets from you.” Are you holding your breath? The tightness in your chest makes you feel like you are. “And you deserve a much more profound proclamation of devotion but I’m worried that if I try to do that I’ll lose my nerve. So instead I’ll just say it, and I’ll spend the rest of my days after this showing you just how devoted I am.” He reaches under his cowl, producing a small chain from around his neck, he fiddles with the clasp for a moment before holding it out towards you. Two silver rings hang from the chain. “Sarad’ika, let me spend the rest of my days with you.” He sets the rings in your hand. 
You’re briefly waiting for formal words but you realize those aren’t coming. This is more than a marriage. This is an oath to each other, a permanent bond of devotion. 
“Of course.” You whisper, closing your hand around the bands before swiftly removing his glove, pulling him to your lips to place a kiss to his palm. “Of course, Din.”
You stare into that thin black visor, the both of you just taking a moment to take each other in. And for a brief moment you get a glimpse of the life you could have together. 
A chance at something real. 
Freedom. 
A house. 
A family. 
“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” He murmurs, barely above a whisper.
“What’s that mean?” 
“Mandalorian wedding vows. I can teach them to you if you’d like.”
“What does it mean?”
"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors."
You want him to take the helmet off. 
You’ve never felt such a strong urge to be face to face with him, to really truly see him in this moment. To know him and to be known. 
“And I want you to look.” He voices your own thoughts as he brings your hands to his helmet and you lean forward on instinct, pressing your forehead to the cool steel. You stare at the beskar mask. You’ve spent so much time wondering what lies beneath it but now you know that you don’t care, you imagine him as you’ve felt him beneath your hands. You tumble forward, wrapping your arms around his neck.You lift his helmet just enough to kiss him, to feel that warm familiar heat against you. 
“I want to do it soon, I don’t want to wait any longer.” He murmurs once his helmet is properly situated once more. 
“Absolutely.”
“One week from today. Elaine and I will plan everything and we can leave that night.” A week? 
“So soon?”
“It’s for the best.” You settle against his chest so you’re staring out the window at the palace grounds. Just holding each other for a few minutes until you finally speak. 
“It’s silly, but I actually think I’m gonna miss this place.”
“Really?”
“Not this place specifically, I won’t miss this far too large castle, and I won’t miss the arranged marriage of it all, but I’ll miss all the other parts.” You twist around in his arms to face him. “I’ll miss Lysa and Elaine, and the cabin, and being here, in the nook.” His grip on you tightens in an attempt to bring you comfort. “I’m really going to miss the people.” You are suddenly aware of just how fond you’ve become of the people of Naboo. You truly love and care for your subjects and a part of you is going to miss them terribly. 
“I’m sorry.” He truly sounds apologetic. 
“Don’t be. None of it compares to you, Mr. Djarin.” You don’t want him to dwell on any sadness you may have because none of it compares to how badly you want to spend the rest of your life with him. 
“Whatever you say, Mrs. Djarin.” He mimics your tone.
“You can’t call me that yet.”
“But it suits you.”
You wear your ring like he does. On your necklace. He keeps his on the thin silver chain and you keep yours on the cord with the silver flower charm. 
You have one full week to prepare. 
Din assures you that he’ll take care of all the logistical parts of your escape, he says he’s got a plan and you leave it at that, trusting him to handle it. You make yourself a five day schedule. 
Day one, which is today, your engagement day, you will spend packing and gathering whatever you wish to take with you, you both agree to each take one bag and nothing else to make things as easy as possible. 
Day two, Elaine is going to fit you for a gown while Din finishes his preparations for your departure. 
For your third day you’ve convinced Din to take you into the city to say goodbye. You want to see the markets and you want to see the people, one last time. 
On day four, you will have to attend your final dinner with your current husband.
And on day five you will be married. Elaine supposedly knows a pastor who works in a chapel just at the edge of the castle grounds. She has told him that the Mandalorian wishes to wed a servant girl, when the sun sets you will meet him there, your face concealed and just like that, you’ll be wed. 
When he explains it to you it all seems so simple but actually making it through the week is much harder. 
You don’t pack any clothes, Din says you’ll just get new ones when the two of you find somewhere to settle. You plan on wearing a simple tunic and pants, you’ll change after the ceremony and you’ll have your honeymoon once you’re safe and off planet. 
You’ve been wearing the necklace Din got you for a while now you don’t have to worry about that. Otherwise you don’t honestly have many belongings. You grab a few books from the library you’ve been meaning to read, tucking them into the canvas bag he brought for you. You pack a blanket and a few pieces of jewelry you think might be valuable before buttoning it shut, handing it off to Din to be tucked away in the cabin. 
You can’t help but feel like you’re forgetting something but you push the thought away. 
That night, when you’re laying with Din in the closet you hold the rings up together, staring at the intricate detailing in a way you haven’t gotten a chance to do yet. You rest your chin on his chest in the dim lamp light as you watch the way the flickering bulb reflects off the silver. 
The outsides are rather pretty, matching patterns of swirls and vines, miscellaneous flowers adorn the band. The insides are different though, both carved with the same word you vaguely remember from your book. 
Riduurok
It represents a love bond. 
The difference is specifically that yours has a very small carving of a mudhorn, a sigil you recognize from his armor, while his is engraved with a flower. A piece of each of you. 
“They’re beskar.” He says softly. His helmet resting on your bare chest. 
“Like your armor? Isn’t this only supposed to be used on Mandalorians?” You drop his ring and focus back on your own. 
“They make exceptions.” He yawns, he still hasn’t fully recovered from the exhaustion of his trip and you wonder if he slept at all when he was gone. 
“Is this why you left? To get these?”
“Not just anyone can forge beskar, I needed to seek out an old friend to do it.” He adjusts himself a bit, fiddling with his helmet.
“They did a beautiful job.” You close your eyes as you say it, hearing his helmet hit the floor and his face taking its place against you as he lays back down. 
“She always does.” He reaches over, turning the lamp off.
“Why a mudhorn?” He laughs when you ask, rolling over so he’s on his side, still holding you. 
And before you fall asleep, he tells you a story. 
In the morning Din leaves you with a kiss on the forehead to go handle the final preparations of your departure while Elaine arrives with her seamstress kit and bundles of white fabric. 
You want your own dress for this. 
Not one of the ones tailored to you and paid for with Kodo’s money. 
She takes your measurements in silence, her face contorted in concentration as she notes everything. From the looks of it, she already has a good portion of the dress finished. 
It’s gorgeous. 
Pale, sheer fabric lined with dainty little dots. The skirt is layered, flowing freely when she pins it against your figure, fitting it to you perfectly. 
“Elaine… this is beautiful, when did you find the time to make this?” 
“I started it a while ago, I hoped you’d like it.” She smiles and it feels almost normal. Like two friends just looking out for each other. 
“I love it, thank you, I don’t know how I’m going to repay you for everything you’ve done.” 
“You’ve done enough just by being kind to me, princess.” He manages to speak clearly even when she’s holding pins between her teeth. 
“Please, you don’t have to call me that, call me by my name.”
And she does. 
When she finishes the dress you have to fight back tears, not just because of how wonderful of a job she’s done, but because of the sentiment of it all. 
“Will you come to the wedding? You and Lysa?” You take her hands in yours, as you stare at yourself in the mirror, white lace falling off your shoulders in beautiful layers. 
“If you’d like.”
“Nothing would make me happier. You give her hands a squeeze and she helps you out of the gown, after about an hour Din returns from his day spent finding you passage off of Naboo, laying down beside you in the closet, you’re in only your undergarments since you didn’t bother changing after Elaine was done.
“I missed you.” He mumbles as he crawls across the sheets towards you. 
“You always miss me.” He just laughs when you sit up on your elbows to smile at him.
“I got us a ship.” He murmurs, you barely get a chance to cover your eyes before his helmet is off, his mouth on yours as he climbs on top of you. 
“Where’s it taking us?” You gasp out when he finally pulls back, tugging at the latches on his armor as he sits up on his knees. 
“Wherever we want. It’s a cargo ship, making multiple stops throughout the outer rim, we’ll be able to get off whenever.” You listen, eyes still shut, counting as each piece of armor is set on the floor until the last one is off. 
“What about our great escape? What’s the story?” His knee slides between your legs as he crawls back on top of you, holding himself above you so you have to strain your neck to kiss him. 
“The princess ran off on her own volition. She was unhappy for a long time and finally couldn’t take it anymore.” He pulls back just enough that you can’t find him without your sight, whining as you slump back against the pillows. “Elaine will spread whatever rumors she needs to to make it true.” 
“What about her loyal Mandalorian bodyguard?” You reach up, opting to just pull him down to you instead of trying to find him yourself. 
“He was embarrassed, ran away with his tail between his legs because he accidentally lost the princess.” He lets you pull him against you, his face finding a place under your jaw, his stubble brushing against your neck as he does. 
“Didn’t realize he was such a coward.” You let out a breathless laugh as his chin brushes against a particularly ticklish part of your throat. 
“Apparently he was a real baby about that kind of thing.” You feel a soft bite emphasizing his words as his teeth graze your skin. 
“What a shame.”
“Truly.” He ends the back and forth when his mouth dips between your breasts, licking a strip of the skin there before sliding lower. “Do you have any other plans tonight?” 
You just cleared your whole schedule. 
“Nope.” 
“Perfect, I thought we could do some married couple practice?” He lifts your legs up, resting them on your shoulders as he presses several tender kisses to your thighs. 
“Married couple practice?” You’d do just about anything he wanted you to right now as long as he doesn’t stop what he’s doing. 
“Well we’re gonna be married in just a few days, we should probably practice.” There’s a brief shuffling as he tosses his gloves aside before hooking a finger on your panties, you’re waiting for him to tug them down but instead you just hear a few rips and feel his breath against your mound. 
“I don’t exactly get what that entails…” Your words are shaky as he runs his thumb along the crease between your thigh and your cunt. 
“Well I was thinking all day, you know, while I was busy missing you.” He finally puts his mouth on you and it’s barely enough. His fingers spread you open as he leans forward, placing a single chaste kiss onto your clit that makes you jump a bit. 
“Of course.” Your voice pitches up a bit.
“And I was thinking about how I’d probably come back here and we’d talk a little like we normally do, and then we’d probably have sex like we normally do.” He still doesn’t put his mouth on you, you just feel his breath against you, making your pussy ache and your clit throb. 
“So far so good.” Are you even speaking loud enough for him to hear you?
“But then I realized that we’re gonna be married soon, so I thought we should probably start acting like it.” He leans forward just enough for his nose to bump against your clit.
“Yeah?” Your hands tangle in his hair in an instant. 
“Yeah. You know, typical married people things, I ask you how your day was, you tell me it was fine, and then we have boring married people sex.” He tilts his head to the side a bit, just enough to relieve any of the pressure against your core as you try desperately to pull him into you. 
“What is boring married people sex?” You ask, strained and breathless. 
“You lay on your back and I do my thing until I finish inside you, because married people have kids, that’s what they do.” Finally, finally, his tongue drags along your seam before dipping into your weeping hole, your back arching as you groan. 
“Obviously.”
“You probably won't finish, I’m pretty sure that’s part of it.” He mumbles against you before pressing his tongue deeper into you. 
“Well that doesn’t seem fair.” Your eyes are squeezed shut as he works you open, slowly, your cunt leaking as he laps at whatever he can. 
“Marriage is all about compromise.” He pulls back, a little breathless himself now before wrapping his arms around your legs, nuzzling his face between your legs before wrapping his lips around your clit, leisurely sucking until you can’t hold back the obscene moan that forces its way out of you. 
“How is that a compromise?” You finally manage to grumble through your haze, the coil in your stomach tightens just as he comes up for air, resting his head on your thigh. 
“I don’t know, it just is- dank farrik- missed you- your taste.” His own voice is nearly as needy as your own as he leans back down into you, his tongue swirling around that little bundle of nerves until you feel like you're about to explode. 
“Being married… sounds awful.” Your chest heaves and your thighs tighten around his head as he sinks two fingers into you, briefly pulling back with a small gasp. 
“We’ll make it work.” He curls his fingers, chuckling when you tighten around him. 
“Maybe that’s the compromise.” You muse as he flattens his tongue against your clit.
“Making it- making it work?” You’re so fucking close, if you could just get him to stop talking and focus you’d be able to finish. 
“Yeah, maybe the compromise is making boring married sex work for both of us.” You stammer again, desperate for him to just send you over that edge. 
“I suppose we could try that.” He flicks his tongue against you one last time before withdrawing his fingers, you whimper the moment he does. “Are you going to come?” He knows exactly what he’s doing, and that you are. You nod with a breathy whine and he pulls back entirely, sitting up. 
“If you want me to marry you you better stop whatever it is you’re doing.” You spit the words out quickly, desperate to pull him back in. 
“If you want to come you better not make jokes like that.” He teases but you know he’s incapable of denying you anything. 
“Fine, fine, just- come here.” You hold your arms out towards him and he eagerly crawls back into them, slotting himself between your thighs as he spreads your legs wide to accommodate him. You arch your back and shift your hips to the best of your ability, trying to get some kind of relief against him but he pulls back just enough to prevent it.
“How was your day?” You can feel his grin as he leans down, kissing along your jaw slowly as you paw at his chest.
“It was great, wonderful.” You gasp out as you feel him drag the head of his cock through your folds, coating himself in the abundant wetness there. 
“Now ask me about my day.” He notches himself at your entrance, not pushing in just yet but enough to make you squirm in an attempt to take matters into your own hands unsuccessfully. 
“I’m gonna kill you.” Your voice is already ragged and strained at this point but when he still doesn’t move you sigh. “How was your day?” The moment you finish your sentence he pushes into you in one smooth motion, burying himself to the hilt with a groan from both of you. 
“It was fine.” He mumbles before almost immediately finding a rhythm, pumping himself inside you with deep deliberate thrusts. His forehead presses against yours as he lets out a breathy whine. 
This certainly doesn’t feel boring. 
He takes hold of your hips, raising them slightly so he can angle himself to slam against your g-spot, twisting your body until you let out a particularly strained moan and he knows he’s found it. Your brain is already mush just from the sheer speed at which he started fucking you, giving you no time to adjust, so all you manage to mumble is his name. 
“You- you want me to fill you up? He rasps out.
You nod for a moment until you remember the darkness that you’re both in and you manage to find your voice.
“Yes, please.” Your hand slips between your legs as you begin to rub slow circles into your clit but he takes your wrist and slowly pulls it away.
“I- I wanna see if- if you can come just like this.” He stammers out as he continues jackhammering into you, purposefully pushing himself into your g-spot as your walls flutter around him. 
“Din…” You whine but he just keeps at it. 
“I bet you can, I bet you’ll come when I do, when I fill you up, when I’m spilling out of you.” Your head is spinning from the repeated stimulation as he continues to focus on that sweet spot until you’re both falling apart. He’s exactly right. He comes first, snapping his hips forward until he’s nestled against your cervix. And when he’s done he slowly fucks his cum deeper into you, reveling in the lewd wet sounds and it only takes a moment more before you finish as well, gasping and strangling his cock as you clamp down on him. 
When your breathing settles he turns onto his side, holding you against his chest before mumbling a sleepy I love you, so much. The two of you have been laying in silence for quite some time when you finally speak up. 
“You know, married people sex is subjective.” 
“Hmm?” He hums softly.
“Any sex we have after we’re married is married people sex, because we’ll be married people.”
“Mhmm.” He sounds like he’s barely awake but you just keep going. 
“I don’t know why you assume it has to be boring.”
“Mmhm.” He continues to hum against your chest, a low rumble. 
“Do you spend all your time away from me coming up with over complicated ways to put a baby in me?” You finally blurt out with a laugh, rubbing his back as you do. 
“It worked, didn’t it?” He finally sits up a bit and speaks, his voice is heavy with exhaustion. 
“Maybe I spend all my time thinking about the same thing and you just make it really easy for me to get what I want.” You’re still laughing softly. 
“Does that mean you want to have more boring married people sex?” The fatigue in his voice dissolves quickly. 
“Only if you stop calling it that. We aren’t boring married people and we are never going to be. We’re just going to be married people.” 
“Mmm, I can make that work. Do you want to have more married people sex?” He starts to sit up on top of you again but you put a hand on his chest, pushing him so he’s laying down on his back. 
“Absolutely I do.” You straddle his hips before reaching out into the darkness to take his face in your hands. 
Today is the only day you’ve woken up sad since Din proposed. 
Today you have to say goodbye to your favorite part of Naboo, the people. When you wake he’s already dressed, attaching the last of his armor before helping you up. 
“I thought you might want to leave early, so we can spend as much time in the city as possible.” His voice is still thick with sleep as you get to your feet. 
You tell Leo to bring you as many coin purses as he can before you leave and he returns with five rather hefty bags of credits that Din slips into his bag before you head out. You go through the usual process, bracelet and all the other hubbub before you begin your walk through the streets. 
There’s a dull ache in your chest as you look around at the people. Your people. 
The thought of never seeing them again, and never getting a chance to really help them. If you were queen you could do something about all of this, but you can’t stay long enough to do such a thing.
So you settle for this. 
You hand out credits to anyone who will take them, saving a bag for Vivian's family. You embrace anyone who will let you, and you hold the hands of everyone you give credits to. And once four bags are empty you go to Vivian’s store and you play with Theo, and even though she protests for the better part of an hour you give her the fifth coin purse. And when the sun starts setting you hug her. 
And you fight the urge to say goodbye because it doesn’t matter how much you trust her, no one can know that this is your last time visiting the city. 
When you leave the store it’s clear how upset you’re becoming about all of this so Din takes you to the markets just as the sunsets and you get to see the changeover. You can’t technically go to the Lunar Markets without your cloak, it wouldn’t be a good look for a princess to be wandering through such a taboo place, but you stand just outside the first street and you watch all the lights flicker on. 
Each string light going on at its one speed, dazzling flashes of light all dancing through the air until the entire street is illuminated.
It’s beautiful. 
Yet you don’t feel better. 
You just feel sad. Because you’ll never get to see it again. 
So you walk, quietly with Din, back towards the castle. 
“You’re upset.” His voice fills the silence almost immediately as you walk the empty street back. 
“A bit.”
“Why?”
“Because I didn’t do anything. I’m royalty, I should have helped these people when I had the chance to.” You sigh, resting your shoulder against his.
“You did the best you could.” It sure doesn’t feel like it. 
“And it still wasn’t enough.” 
“You did more for them than any other member of the royal family has done in decades.” You have to fight the urge to take his hand in yours after that. 
“You always know what to say.” 
“Aren’t you that bitch from before?” A voice breaks through the small moment of peace and you and Din both turn quickly to see a vaguely familiar face. “Didn’t realize that you were royalty, doesn’t seem like much of a guard for a princess, one guy.” He nods at Din who immediately steps in front of you, silent. 
You squint, trying to recall where you know him from when two other men step out from a nearby alley, flanking him. That’s when it clicks. 
You recognize his welding goggles. And his greasy black hair. 
He had accosted you many moons ago, in the market, Din had knocked him flat on his ass for it. Din takes a few steps in their direction, deliberate and deadly. It doesn’t matter how capable you know he is, you still don’t like the sight of him going up against a group of three. 
“Look man, this doesn’t have to be a problem, we’ll even pay you for just a couple minutes with her.” The one you recognize quips and you feel sick at the insinuation. 
“I’ve never been with a princess.” His friend on the left sneers and you instinctively take a step back. That’s all it takes to send Din over the edge though, you don’t even see the first hit, he moves so quickly. You just see the guy on the left hit the street, a gush of blood shooting out from his nose. 
The other two hop into action immediately after, both standing with their arms held up defensively but it does them no good. 
The one on the right is stupid enough to strike first, his fist hits beskar and he stumbles back with a yelp. Your eyes go wide when Din kicks his legs out from under him, he follows the first man as he hits the ground, his head knocking against the stones, in an instant he’s out cold. 
You gasp at the suddenness of it all. 
The one with the goggles loses all his bravado in an instant, he turns and you’re sure he’s about to run but he doesn’t get the chance, Dins hand wraps around his throat and he’s on the ground beside his friends, except he isn’t as lucky as his friends because the Mandalorian doesn’t relent. He boxes him in with his legs as he kneels, his fist slams against the other man's face repeatedly and your ears fill with a sickening crunching sound. 
In all honesty you aren’t worried about anyone but Din right now, it isn’t just the man's face that’s making the breaking sounds, it’s his fist as well. 
You rush over to them and put your hands on Din’s shoulders, he stops immediately before turning to look at you, his shoulders relax immediately and he reaches for you but he winces when he wraps his hand around your arm. 
“Sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He whispers softly and you nod.
“It’s okay, but we should go.” You rub his back a bit as he stands. 
“I just need a second.”
“Okay. You nod, watching as he leans down, whispering something in the barely conscious man's ear, you don’t catch a word of it but when he’s done he stands and you both begin walking back towards the castle. 
“I’m okay, I promise.” He groans as you usher him into the cabin. You’ve been fussing over him the entire walk back. 
“Being married means not lying about this kind of thing.” You snap back at him as you open the door. 
“I’m not lying, trust me, I’ve had much worse.” You know it’s true but that doesn’t mean you aren’t going to worry. 
You frown, having him sit at the kitchen table as you carefully pull his gloves off, both knuckles are jagged and bloody. 
“Kriff… do you have a first aid kit?” 
“I promise, sarad, it’s fine.” 
“Marriage means compromise.” You glare at him as he sighs and you cross your arms in front of your chest.
“Fine. In the fresher, there’s a loose board in the cupboard, pull it back and bring me the case that’s in there.” You cock an eyebrow at him before hurrying off to follow his instructions and sure enough you find it, a small metal case. You return to the main room, setting the box down on the table, watching as he fumbles with the lock. He flips the lid open before sliding the box over to you. Your jaw goes slack as you stare at several vials of bacta. 
“Why do you have so much of this stuff?” You cringe at the memory of having to apply the sour substance to your split lip.
“For emergencies, which by the way, this is not.” You grab one of the vials as he gestures at his hands, uncorking it and dipping your finger into the slimy liquid before taking his hand in yours, applying a thin layer to it, watching the blood slowly mix with the bacta in crimson swirls. 
“You’re hurt, this is an emergency.” He just sighs, letting you do your work, not even wincing one as you do so. When you’re done you recork the vial before putting it back in the case and returning it to its hiding place.  
“Thank you.” He whispers when you come back to him, kneeling in front of the chair and helping him out of his armor as he keeps his hands on the table. 
“What was that?” You grin up at him as he sighs again.
“Thank you.” He says a bit louder. 
“You’re welcome.” You take the last of his armor off before standing. “Now come on, let’s lay down.” You wrap an arm around his waist as you walk to the mattress, helping him down as you keep his hands away from the sheets before laying down beside him, resting your head on his chest. You lean over and flip the lamp off before settling in beside him. 
“Did you have a good day?” He whispers against you as you lay your head on his shoulder. 
“I had a sad day, but it was still good.” 
“I’m sorry you had to see that.” He mumbles in the darkness, his tone quickly turning to one of shame. .
“What? The fight? You were just doing what you always do, you were protecting me.” You let your fingertips roam across his chest in small circles in an attempt to soothe him. 
“I should’ve- I shouldn’t have snapped like that. You shouldn’t have seen me like that.” 
“Hey. I want to see you like that. I want to see all the parts of you, not just the pretty ones.” He doesn’t respond, and for a moment you have to wonder if you’ve upset him, but then you feel his chest rise and fall sharply a few times. Your hands fumble around until you find his face, the apples of his cheeks are a bit damp as you run your thumbs across them. 
You aren’t really sure what to say. So you just go with what you know will make him understand just how okay everything is right now. It hasn’t been an easy week so far for either of you. 
“I love you.” You whisper before leaning down to kiss him, your mouth thankfully finding his. “And I can’t wait to marry you.” You lay back down and feel his arms tighten around you, after a few minutes his breathing steadies out and you know he’s okay. 
“I love you too.” Is the last thing you hear before you both fall asleep. 
One last dinner with Kodo and then you never have to see him again.
That’s what you keep reminding Din as he tries to convince you it isn’t necessary, to which you remind him exactly what happened last time you didn’t attend dinner. Not that you aren’t just as worried as he is, of course you are, you’re just internalizing it better. Most people probably spend the day before their wedding stressing, it’s only natural.
So that’s exactly what you do today.
You stress.
You pace, and you stress until the sun is setting and Din is trying to persuade you one last time into not going which you ignore before the two of you walk the familiar trail to dinner. 
You never know what to expect when you walk into the dining hall, but today you couldn’t be more pleased to find Kodo positively swamped. With his fathers condition worsening a fair amount of his royal duties now fall under his son's jurisdiction. He doesn’t look at you or Din when you arrive and you’re thrilled when you see they didn’t set the table for dinner. The entire room is silent save for Kodo scribbling something on a piece of paper, when you go to sit he raises a hand and you stop dead in your tracks. 
“No need to sit, this will be quick.” He stands and you feel a sudden urge to stand behind Din, to put something between you and Kodo but you resist. “My fathers condition is worsening, that is the only news I have now I must be off.” He snaps and a servant helps him put on his coat as you watch in stunned silence, he shoots you one last glance before walking out the door. “That will be all.” And just like that he’s gone. When the door shuts behind him you can’t help but burst into a fit of laughter purely spurred on by your disbelief as Din walks you out of the room.
It was just that easy.
You’d spend hours stressing today and it was that kriffing easy. 
You’re grinning ear to ear when you turn to Din once you’re safe and out of the dining hall. 
“We never have to do that again.” Your voice and excited whisper. 
“Never.” He repeats, you can practically hear his own smile. 
“Can we go home now?”
“Home?” He looks behind him before wrapping an arm around your waist. 
“Sorry, the cabin.”
“I still haven’t fixed the bed frame you know.” He’s still walking you in that direction as he says it so you just laugh.
“That’s okay, I don’t mind.” 
“Then let’s go home.” 
And that’s exactly what you do. And when he opens the door to let you in you realize with a profound sadness that this is your last night in the cabin. A place that is the closest thing you have to a home here on Naboo, besides Din. But he’s a person, not a place. This is your home. His home. You can’t help but wonder if the sorrow is getting to him too, leaving is hard, no matter how much you hate certain aspects of this planet there will always be parts that you love.
But you don’t want to be sad the night before your wedding. 
So you do your best to clear your head.
“Aren’t we supposed to spend the night before our wedding apart?” You tease as you kick your shoes off, eager to just go to sleep, turns out spending all day being worried is exhausting. 
“Why would I want to do that?” He’s taking his own armor off, turning to glare at you. 
“I don’t know, tradition?” He helps you out of your dress and you quickly climb into bed.
“That’s not my tradition.” He lays beside you and you on the mattress, groaning as he kneels to crawl in beside you. 
“Lights off?” You whisper as your fingers trace the edge of his helmet. 
“On?” His voice is soft and hopeful and you smile before promptly closing your eyes, the action is swiftly followed by the sound of his airlock. He kisses each of your eyelids before your lips, pulling you into him completely. 
And he loves you like it’s the last time he ever will. 
He makes every time feel like the first time with how gentle he is with you, even when he’s being rough. There’s always the tiniest spark of tenderness to him. 
But tonight is different.
Tonight he loves you like he’s loved you his entire life. 
It isn’t another first time, this time feels like the thousandth, like he knows your own body better than you do. Like he still loves it even after all this time. His hands can’t hold enough of you, his mouth can’t savor enough of you, and his cock can’t fill enough of you. He chases more and more, wanting only to make you happy, to unravel you and wind you up just so he can do it all over again. 
However you want it. 
That’s what he says when you climb on top of him, sinking down on his length with a groan. So you do it exactly how you want it, which is every way. He takes whatever you give him and you give him whatever he wants. And when he gasps in your ear the single word, posed as a question, inside? You nod, pulling his face closer to kiss his cheek.
“You don’t have to ask, you can just do it.” You murmur, and he does. 
A part of you knows just how reckless that is but it matters less now that you’re leaving. Any children who would be born from this union no longer have to live in fear of your current technical husband, because they won’t be anywhere near him by the time they’re born. 
So you let yourself stop being afraid of that possibility. 
And you let Din love you.
Today’s the day. 
Your day. 
It feels perfect already, the sun shines in through the small windows, you’re still tangled in each other when your eyes flutter open. Based on the way his breathing sounds you know his helmet is still off so you shut your eyes, letting your head rest on his chest as you relax against him for a few more minutes. 
It’s going to be a hard habit to break after today. 
Not looking. 
Shit. 
By the end of today you’ll have seen him. You’re meeting him at the chapel before the sunsets, and you’ll be off planet before morning. And in between that you’ll look. You’ll know every part of him. 
You feel him stir, his breathing picking up just a little as he lets his hand wander up and down your spine. 
“Good morning, sarad.” He murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of your head. 
“Morning.” You kiss his collar bone, squeezing whatever parts of him you can get your hands on. “What time do we have to start getting ready?”
“Lysa will help you get ready and Elaine and I will set up the church. We have to explain our circumstances to the pastor.” 
“Like tell him that your bride is married?” You groan, just wanting to stay in bed with him.
“Like tell him I’m marrying some random servant girl, but more importantly tell him no one will see your face during the ceremony because of the creed.”
“Is that a real thing?” You sit up a bit, remembering to keep your eyes shut just in time.
“Not at all, but he doesn’t know that.”   
You pull each other close, your movements synced as you do. 
“Are you ready?” His tone is light but you know that if you said no right now he wouldn’t be bothered, he’d wait. It’s a good thing you’re more than ready. 
“I have been for quite some time.” 
The two of you stay like that for quite some time, for as long as you can actually, until Elaine is banging on the cabin door. When that happens you both sit up quickly, Din helps you dress and in just a few moments you’re both ready. 
The next time you see him will be at your wedding. 
You both stand by the door, unopened, when he takes your hand. 
“I love you.” He brings your hand to his chest as he says it.
“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” You do your best with the pronunciation, trying to mirror how he says it. 
“I will know you forever.” He whispers out and you tilt your head to the side. “That’s what that means. It’s our version of I love you, but it means I will know you forever.” 
You squeeze his hand on last time before dropping it and lifting his helmet just enough to kiss him once. 
“I will. I have big plans to know you forever.” You smile at him one last time before opening the door, Elaine and Lysa waiting outside. 
After Lysa walked you back to the castle things were a bit of a whirlwind. 
It was a long arduous process, she insisted on making you perfect one last time. Her sentiment made your heart clench so you allowed her this, considering it a parting gift, one last day staring into the vanity. 
She spends the day getting you ready in every way possible and you spend the day missing Din. 
Until she gets to your hair and you finally speak up.
“Can we leave it down?” You clear your throat and turn to her as she nods. 
“Of course.” 
Despite how much time Lysa has spent dolling you up you’re happy to look in the mirror and see you. Clear as day. Not some unrecognizable woman being dressed to the sake of her husband, you just look like you. 
When the sun is finally beginning to set outside your window she helps you into your dress.
Elaine really outdid herself. 
It’s simpler than some of your other gowns but it’s exactly what you wanted. The dress isn’t wearing you, you’re wearing the dress. You’re standing in the full length mirror when Lysa produces your veil, helping you clip it into your hair so your face will be completely concealed. 
“It’s time to go.” She whispers as she adjusts your dress once, smiling gently at you.
“Could I have a minute alone?” You whisper back before she nods and rushes out, shutting the door silently behind her. 
You lift the veil and look around the dimly lit room for what will be the last time. Your hand subconsciously wanders up your necklace, you twist the ring hanging there between your fingers as you open the closet door, flipping on the lamp to stare at the bed you’ve made. 
You sort of wish you could bring it with you. Your little blanket bed. But you know better than that. As much as you’re going to miss it, after today you’ll have a real bed. A shared bed, with your riduur. 
So you say a silent goodbye to this bed. Your first shared bed. And you leave to find Lysa. 
You know the plan by heart. 
Lysa will walk you in. It’ll be a quick ceremony and then you will get your things from the cabin and leave. 
Simple.
Easy. 
The church is nestled in the woods, only a few servants ever attend but it’s a quaint little place, covered in vines as you stand outside the large wooden entryway. This is it. You will walk out of this church married to a man you actually love. Just as the sun hits the horizon you know that’s your cue to enter. You take Lysa’s arm, holding her close as she pushes the door open. You’re holding your breath as you look around the church, waiting to lay your eyes on him.
Empty. 
You tense up, your grip on Lysa tightens immediately as you both step inside. 
Completely barren. Not even a pastor. 
“They must be running a little bit late.” You can tell by the tone of her voice that she is just as uneasy as you are right now.
Din wouldn’t be late. 
Not to this. 
“Let’s wait a few minutes, they’ll be here soon.” She insists before walking you into the church, you both sit in one of the pews. 
You wait.
And you hold her hand and you wait.
You wait until the sun is completely set and you’re both bathed in darkness before you can’t take it anymore and you stand abruptly, pulling the veil from your hair and handing it to her. 
“Go back inside, hide this, I’ll take care of this.” You walk with her back to the entryway with small frantic steps. 
“Ma’am, are you sure-”   
“I’ll find them.” You give her a reassuring smile, one that brings you no comfort before watching her rush back in the direction of the castle. The moment you know she’s far enough away to not hear it you finally let out the sob that’s been building in your throat. You don’t have time to break down right now though, you need to find Din. 
He didn’t abandon you.
Your mind wants to go there, a part of you whispers that he’s left you all over again but you know with absolute certainty that that isn’t possible. 
Something happened. 
So you search. 
Your heart threatens to burst from your chest as you begin your hunt. 
You go to the cabin only to find it just as you left it this morning. You wade through the waters, silently letting your eyes scour the darkness before you run through the gardens. Yet you come up empty once again. Not so much as a trace of either one of them. 
So you go to the only other place you can think to look. 
The place you had told yourself just a few hours ago that you’d never go back to, and you return to the castle. It’s desolate when you search the halls. Not so much as a guard in the dark stone corridors. It makes your stomach twist in knots. The rooms are empty, and the lights are off. 
What the hell happened?
Your lungs burn from the constant running but you can’t stop now, you won’t stop until you find him, and if you search every corner of the castle and he isn’t there then you’ll start searching the rest of the planet.
Whatever it takes. 
It probably won’t come to that though, you quickly realize when you finally find a room with the door cracked and the lights on. Any sense of relief it brings you is gone in an instant though as you realize what room it is. 
The dining hall. 
Your feet carry you towards it before your brain can comprehend what’s happening and you slowly push the doors open, stepping inside. You have felt a range of temperatures since your arrival on Naboo but right now all you feel is a blistering cold that smothers your flesh and bones. 
The table is set, and as is the case on all nights where you’re expected at dinner, Kodo sits in his usual place. 
Except this isn’t a night where you’re expected.
And he isn’t the only one sat at the table. 
Elaine sits on one side of him, looking like she’s about to be sick, Leo on the opposite side, downright refusing to look at you. You feel like you’re going to pass out the moment you see them and you can’t help but note the fact that Kodo’s guards aren’t here. 
“Don’t you look lovely.” The nasally bellow of his voice fills the entire hall as you take a step forward. It takes all of your focus to keep yourself from trembling as you stare at him.
“Did I forget we were supposed to have dinner?” You keep your voice surprisingly steady considering the circumstances. 
“You didn’t get my invitation?” His voice drips with malice as the doors behind you promptly shut, his tone is enough of an indicator that there was no invitation. 
This isn’t some coincidence, you didn’t just happen to stumble upon Elaine and Leo dining with your husband, no. 
It’s an ambush. 
“I must have missed it.” You murmur. 
“Take a seat.” He says it like it’s an offer but you know better than to refuse, not now. You sit at your usual spot, every muscle in your body is tense as you look across the table at him. “Tonight was supposed to be a celebration.” His face contorts into a sneer as he stares right back at you. “But I’m afraid our night has been ruined by some rather upsetting news.” 
Maybe you should just run. 
His guards aren’t here, you could probably outrun Kodo, especially with how much adrenaline is coursing through your veins right now. 
Not without Din.
“Are you okay?” He doesn’t sound concerned, the question burns a hole into you, what could he possibly mean by that? 
“I’m fine.” You swallow the lump in your throat, turning to look at Leo, and then Elaine, Kodo following your eyeline the entire time. 
“Don’t worry, she can’t hurt you, not anymore.” 
“I’m sorry?” The more confused you get the more the feeling of suffocation in your chest grows.   
“Your servant, she can’t hurt you anymore, I was actually about to dismiss her right before you arrived.” Your brows furrow as you try desperately to make sense of any of this and he grins. Teeth fully on display as he smiles at you from across the table. “You don’t know?” 
“I’m sorry, my prince, but I’m not sure about anything that’s happening right now.” Might as well say it, maybe it’ll get you some answers. 
“No need to apologize, not after what you’ve been through.” 
You know better than to ask a follow up question to that. 
Something is terribly wrong and it would be best to learn as much as you can before giving away any of your own knowledge. 
“Leodall told us everything.” If it’s possible for Leo to somehow look at you less, he manages to do so when Kodo says that. “You don’t have to worry about any of it now, I’m going to take care of everything.” Nothing about the faux soothing tone he takes on relaxes you, you’re getting more and more upset with each passing second. 
“What did Leo tell you?” The bewilderment in your voice isn’t an act as you fight to keep your voice from cracking. 
“About the Mandalorian, dear wife.” 
It’s a good thing you weren’t holding a drink, if you did it would be on the floor. You don’t have anything to say, any words you might have to say die in your throat. 
“We retrieved him from his quarters and he confessed to everything.” Kodo’s eyes raise briefly as he gauges your reaction. 
Din confessed. 
“Everything?” When you find your voice that’s the only word you can manage to produce as your stomach churns at the thought. What did they do to him to make him admit what the two of you have done? 
“It’s better this way, there’s no need for a trial.” He takes a sip of whatever dark ale fills his glass. Maybe your last act of defiance should be to aim the vomit rising in your throat at him, or at the very least at Leo. “Thank the gods Leo found that book, who knows how long this would have continued if it weren’t for him.” 
The Smitten Paladin. 
You knew you were forgetting something. 
Maybe there isn’t enough time to run but you could definitely jump across the table and strangle Leo, it probably wouldn’t even be that difficult. 
Or maybe you should just beg. 
Kodo is a man of ego, if you appeal to him maybe he’ll spare Din. That’s unlikely though, the best you can hope for now is a swift death for both of you. Should you just beg for that instead? 
“I confessed as well, to all of it.” Elaine turns to stare at you, she looks pained and Kodo’s smile drops the moment she speaks up. 
“There’s no need for that.” He hisses, his chair squeaks as he stands but she isn’t deterred. 
“The Mandalorian and I both confessed to our crimes, I’m sorry.” Elaine is strong. The entire time you’ve known her that’s been the word you’d use to describe her, but right now she just looks small. 
“That’s enough.” His voice rings through the hall as he snarls at her. “You’ve done enough.” But she doesn’t stop, tears form in the corners of her eyes as she reaches a hand towards you. 
“Mando told them what he did.” Her words become more and more rushed as Kodo begins to walk towards where she’s seated. “We told them all of it, what he made you do, how I helped him keep you quiet, how he took advantage of you.” Her voice is strained and broken as the loud crack echoes throughout the room when Kodo’s hand comes in contact with her face.
“Not another word.” He growls, his eyes icy and cruel, his hand still raised in silent warning. 
How he took advantage of you. 
Oh Din. 
He didn’t. 
You just stare at her. The weight of the world is starting to crash down on you bit by bit as your heart begins to beat frantically. 
Kodo sighs loudly before returning to his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“You’ve ruined the big reveal.” He mumbles before looking back up at you. “Might as well get to your present since she’s ruined the surprise.” 
This can’t get worse. 
That’s what you’ve been consistently repeating to yourself as this dinner has carried on yet somehow it does. 
Everything gets worse when Kodo calls out for his guards. 
Six battle droids enter from the door behind Kodo, but you barely have eyes for them, you don’t have the brain capacity to notice them because you only see him right now. 
Your Din. 
Din who would do anything for you. With his hands cuffed in front of him, his ankles attached with a short chain. Din who is pushed to his knees, a man who should never be in such a position before anyone who isn’t you. Din who only looks at you, even now. 
Din who made up a lie, to protect you one last time. 
Your Din.  
There isn’t a facade you can put on now, nothing can hide the anguish on your face as you stare at him, you aren’t exactly proud when it consumes you entirely. 
And you vomit. 
The tension in your chest finally bubbles over and you expel the contents of your stomach onto the table. Nobody moves, only you, hands gripping your chair as your chest heaves. You’re vaguely aware of Kodo standing beside you now, he’s speaking but you don’t hear a word, you only hear a ringing in your ears until you look at Din, who nods at you, just once, and everything comes back into focus. 
“He can’t hurt you.” Kodo’s voice is sickly sweet in your ear as he hands you a handkerchief from the table set up, giving you a moment to wipe your mouth as you fight back the urge to be sick all over again. “His restraints are state of the art, it doesn’t matter how much of a fight he puts up, he isn’t getting out of them.” 
Your brain is trying desperately to come up with some genius plan to get all of you out of this but you're coming up empty. 
There is nothing. 
“I’m thinking guillotine.” Kodo’s voice is a whisper now as he bends down to speak to you. 
“You do public executions on Naboo?” Your voice matches his in volume, but your eyes never leave Din, he’s struggling against them, but six battle droids? It wouldn’t matter if it was six Mandalorians. 
“I’m the king now, I can do whatever I want.” 
“Tonight was supposed to be a celebration.” 
Oh. 
“Defiling the queen is considered an act of treason in my eyes, so yes, it will be a public execution for these two.” He points at Din and then Elaine and at this point you have a headache as you try desperately to make the pieces of this demented puzzle fit together. You take a shuddering deep breath. 
Leo found the book.
He told Kodo.
Kodo had Din drawn and quartered. He would have been with Elaine, she was taken as well.
He told them he took advantage of you. 
That he defiled you. 
So you would be guiltless. 
And Elaine corroborated his story. 
Said she helped him. 
They had saved you.
And now they’re going to pay for it. 
“Why don’t we see the traitor’s face, guard?” Kodo’s voice tears you from your mental gymnastics as he snaps, pointing at Din and you can’t help it as you shoot up to be standing. 
“No!” The word is punched out of your chest, all the air leaving your body with it. 
“No?” Din stops struggling as everyone turns to face you now, Kodo’s question rings throughout the room as you try to come up with something, anything, to stop this. 
“You wanted to surprise me? Then we should wait, we should save the reveal.” Your words are rushed, you will do anything to keep that helmet on his head right now. 
“The reveal?” Kodo hisses.
“No one’s ever seen his face, we shouldn’t waste this opportunity on some random dinner.” Is this even worth it? At this point you’re probably just getting yourself killed. 
Now no one speaks. You finally manage to tear your eyes from Din to turn and face Kodo. 
“We should save it.” You whisper, you don’t even care if this gets you killed, you just want to keep his helmet on his head until you can figure out how to keep his head on his shoulders. 
Kodo’s sneer turns into a smirk.
“What a good idea.” You let out the breath you’d been holding in. “Maybe you aren’t completely bland, wife.” He puts a hand on the small of your back and you manage to keep yourself from recoiling. “Well then, I think we’re done here.” He whistles, once, clear and sharp and a pair of guards take Elaine by the arms, dragging her away but not before you manage to shoot her one last look of gratitude for what she’s done for you.  
  You finally look back at Din. 
Thrashing against the hold that the droids have on him until they yank him up into a standing position. 
What you wouldn’t give to be able to say anything to him, even just a single word.
“You don’t have to worry about him anymore sweet wife, it’s over.”  Kodo’s words are hot and vile against your ear as he puts a hand on your shoulder, hovering over you as you watch Din being dragged out of the room. 
He puts up one hell of a fight, one final reminder of just how strong your Mandalorian is, it takes all six of Kodo’s droids to keep him down. 
You don’t like the sight of it. 
There’s something fundamentally wrong about Din being overpowered.
You manage to swallow down the sob that threatens to rip through you as you get one final look at him as the doors slam shut, you fight the urge to recoil when Kodo leans down to plant a kiss on the top of your head.
“Your little nightmare is over.” He mumbles, his voice filled with an underlying joy. 
It’s just started. 
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