Tumgik
#din djarin one shot
bits-and-babs · 1 year
Note
I imagine Mando is a virgin, do to his cult/religion.
What if fem/afab reader is Mando's partner on something and Din finds himself staring at their ass, their face, anything.
Reader notices and decides to lead Din through his first time?
𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐀𝐑 — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍
Tumblr media
» PAIRING : The Mandalorian x F!Reader
» CONTENTS : exhibitionism, masturbation, p in v sex, unprotected sex (I can hear you all screaming from here, I KNOW), cute, shy Mando. 18+ you N A S T I E S.
» DIN MASTERLIST : here || MAIN MASTERLIST : here
Tumblr media Tumblr media
It’s so fucking quiet on the Razor Crest.
The Mandalorian had been suspiciously silent for the majority of your trip to Theed— made even worse by the knowledge that it was such a long journey. He had spent most of his time in the cockpit of the ship, pretending to be preoccupied with the coordinates that he hadn’t changed since setting off.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
You didn’t think anything of it at first. The long drags of The Mandalorian's eyes that you could feel pull across your form, settling on your ass like a tractor beam had them glued to you. Of course, you’d just explained it away with exhaustion. For a moment, you even considered that you’d been afflicted with Hyper-Rapture, imagining things that weren’t there, inventing the gaze you felt skirting over your form.
No, you don’t think anything of it at all. Not until you walk into the cockpit of the Razor Crest one evening to find The Mandalorian thrusting into his palm and quietly whimpering out your name.
Mando hadn’t seen you, spilling into his palm and wheezing as though he’d been shot by a blaster in the side. His cum had run down the knuckles of his fingers, the two-tone gloves he consistently wore hanging off the controls.
Stars, you couldn’t shake the image from your minds-eye, nor could you ignore the echo of your whimpered name when you close your eyes at night.
It’s late. Mando has managed to settle the rambunctious Child into his cot, gently laying him amongst the blankets and closing the lid. It hisses softly, the mechanics locking with a quiet ‘click’.
You can hear his boots clang across the durasteel flooring, each footstep pronounced. Heat swallows your face as you stare at the Aurebesh lettering in your book, the lines all blurring into one when you feel him approach you.
Your name rings in your ears.
“He’s asleep,” Mando speaks softly, his husky tone soothing in its quiet volume. Looking up at him through your lashes, you carefully close the book you had pretended to preoccupy yourself with. Mando’s visor stares down at you blankly, an immovable object that makes your hands shake when you reach for him.
“… That’s perfect,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly when your palms touch the flight suit beneath the lip of his breastplate. You can feel his body flinch, his hip bones soft beneath the canvas.
“H-Hey,” he says cautiously, shocked by the sudden contact. You rub gentle circles with your thumb, chewing on the inside of your cheek in an attempt to ease your thumping heart.
“I heard you,” you break it to him gently, watching his body stiffen at your admission, “Why did you hide it from me?”
Mando doesn’t respond, your touch having stolen the breath from his lungs. He shudders, his cock hard already beneath the fabric of his suit. You see it twitch, responsive to your light touch.
You smile to yourself, careful as you unclip his utility belt.
“I can give you what you want?”
Tumblr media
You insist upon fucking him in the pilot seat. Mando implores you to allow him to keep his armour on. Of course, you concede. This is outside of his comfort zone; he would want to cling to what makes him comfortable.
Straddling his lap, you feel the sting of cold from his tassets bite into the naked flesh of your thighs. The head of his cock rests against your clit, and your muscles buzz with a mixture of arousal and anticipation. You’re drunk on it, high on it.
“I haven’t-“ Mando speaks, his voice catching in his throat when you dip his cock through your soaking folds. It’s like he short circuits, choking on a thick syllable.
“Mhm?” You hum softly. You’ve taken control, your experience making it easier for Mando to relax into you. He leans forward, pressing the cold Beskar of his helmet against your collarbone.
“I haven’t… Done this,” he admits to you, his tone reserved- shy. Mando’s breath hitches in his chest when you settle the head of his cock against your entrance. He sinks inside you ever so slightly, a groan rattling his lungs at the promise of tight, wet heat.
“I know,” you whisper softly, easing down onto his length as you soothe him. Mando’s back arches against the leather of the pilot seat, a choked moan of your name escaping him— not unlike the ones you heard when you caught him fucking his hand.
You don’t move, your walls fluttering around the stretch of him in your cunt. Mando is choking back curses, his hands gripping the curve of your ass and burying his fingertips into the soft flesh there.
“Oh, fu-ughh- so tight-'' he rambles, pitchy in tone as you bury him to the hilt. He’s touching the deepest parts of you, so thick and long that you’re sure you can feel him settle amongst your lungs.
It’s immediately apparent that Mando won’t last long. His thighs are trembling, cock twitching inside you despite your lack of movement. You don’t mind. This isn’t about you.
“Does it feel good?” You check in with him, smoothing your palms down the reflective surface of his breastplate. Your body heat is so high that the chilled metal clouds with condensation the moment your skin rests against it.
“So fucking tight- Maker-“ he gasps in response to you squeezing around him. “I’m-I’m gonna cum-“
Delicately, you lean your head down to press a kiss to the slither of skin exposed between the neckline of his flight suit and his helmet. You follow it up with a long, slow drag of your tongue.
Mando cums with a haggard groan, his whole body shuddering with the intensity of it. His head drops back against the headrest of the seat, chest heaving as he sucks in laboured breaths. Your flesh aches slightly from the tight grip he holds.
“S-Stars-“
It makes you smile, because you’re sure he sees them dancing behind his eyelids.
END
Tumblr media
4K notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 25 days
Note
grumpy beefy mando falling for soft!reader in her “grandma era” - all she wants to do is crochet, bake and frolic around the galaxy with mando and grogu 🫶🏽
"He doesn't like hats."
You glance up at Din from where you're testing a length of crocheted stitches beneath Grogu's chin, ensuring that the hat inspired by the local flora of the forest planet you've found shelter on won't fall off if he gets too rigorous in his play.
Grogu coos beneath the flower hat, but whether it's in agreement or protest you can't tell.
"He likes this one," You decide, when the little green terror before you doesn't fight as you maneuver his ears through their designated slots, "And he doesn't have to wear it if he doesn't want to."
Your fingers slip the little white button through the slot you've left in the band, and the hat is secured around Grogu's chin; the cutest little flower you ever did see.
"Oh, honey," You gush, scooping the child up and tucking him into your arms, "You wanna see your hat? C'mere, let's look."
You crouch in front of the tree stump that Din has settled on, holding Grogu up to the man's beskar chest plate. It's freshly polished, but not completely reflective, so at the right angle, Grogu catches a blurry, slightly distorted version of himself in a very pink hat.
His legs are still too small to kick in excitement, but his arms pick up the slack, flapping about while copious amounts of baby babble streams from his mouth. Evidently he's pleased with your handiwork.
Din stays silent while he offers his armor up for Grogu's viewing pleasure, but the child's hands soon find the soft strap beneath his chin and tug.
"I told you he didn't like hats..." Din murmurs, not to be cruel, but to fill empty space in the air when your shoulders deflate slightly.
"I thought he'd like it if it was softer," You hum sadly, helping Grogu take the button out of its clasp so that he can tug the hat off of his head, "I just figured he didn't like the helmet you gave him because it was uncomfortable."
As soon as you've freed Grogu from the confines of his flowery prison his hands slap against the shiny metal of Din's armor. He takes the child out of your hands but Grogu keeps his hat tightly clutched in his fist, and, with valiant effort, pushes the hat into Din's helmet, insistently cooing something that sounds suspiciously like buir.
Your giddiness returns, and you circle Din like a hawk, "Oh, you want your buir to wear it? Let's see," Amidst Din's protests you balance the too-small cap on his helmet, and he stills if only to save the hat from slipping and dying a muddy death on the ground below.
"It doesn't fit me." He grumbles, body stiff as he keeps it balanced on his head. Grogu seems pleased with his buir's new headpiece, squealing and showing off his newly-emerged teeth in a grin.
"I'll make you a matching one!" You declare, snatching the hat off of his helmet to give him the freedom of movement again, "Grogu, baby, what color should Din's be?"
"Bah!" Grogu decides, and your steps still where you're racing back towards your shelter.
"Uh... how about purple?" You suggest, and another resounding 'Bah.' is all the encouragement you need.
525 notes · View notes
beskarandblasters · 5 months
Text
Tell me how it’s lookin’, babe
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Author’s note: Thank you to @planet-marz1 for sending the discord this image because that’s what inspired all this 😵‍💫 Gifs are by @bestintheparsec and banners + dividers are by @saradika 🖤
Summary: You see Din in just his flight suit and don’t know how to act.
Word count: 1.5k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, helmet stays on, porn with little plot, pet names (cyar’ika for you, baby for Din), tattooed!Din, shy!Din, uncircumcised!Din, body worship, oral sex (M receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, half ass editing 😔, no use of y/n
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
It’s been another long, exhausting day. All you can think about is peeling your clothes off your sweaty body and crawling into Din’s bunk… And dumping the sand out of your boots. Maker, you really don’t care for Tatooine.
The walk across the desert is laborious, but soon enough the Razor Crest appears in the distance, like a mirage before your eyes. You pick up the pace, anxious to feel some air conditioning already. Before you know it Din’s lowering the exit ramp and you’re back inside the cool metal interior of the Crest. You slip off your boots and leave them by the door before heading to the bunk. You don’t hesitate to shed layers of clothes as you walk, tossing them into a pile on the floor at the foot of the cot. It’s nothing new for Din, he’s seen you naked countless times now. But you look over at him, leaning in the door frame by the bunk, and covered in layer after layer…
“You’re not… hot?” you ask him.
“…What do you mean?”
“Like sweaty, Din.”
“Oh… Yes.”
“You don’t ever wanna take all that off? Not the helmet of course. But even just the armor?”
“I guess I could.”
“Only if you’re comfortable,” you reassure him, taking a step closer to him and placing your hand on the hollow part of his helmet. He rests his hand on top of yours and says, “I am.”
You nod, looking deep into the T-shaped visor and take a step back so he can start to remove his armor, his weapons, and his cape. It’s methodical and meticulous the way he does it, each piece carefully removed and placed into a small pile on the floor.
And now he’s standing before you, wearing only his boots and his flight suit. He looks hot in his armor, there’s no question about that. But now that he’s just in his flight suit you can see his form so much better; his biceps, his chest, his thighs, everything. You’re fully staring at him, mouth agape and eyes full of lust and admiration. He’s all yours.
“Cyar’ika?” he says, breaking your trance.
“Hm?”
“What are you looking at?”
“You.”
You hear his breath hitch under the helmet. You take a step closer again and run your hands along the fabric of the flight suit. His visor follows the movement of your hand, running along his chest and down his arms. You look down and there’s a bulge growing in his flight suit.
“How do I look?” he says softly.
“So kriffing good, Din.”
“Really?”
“Of course you do,” you respond, moving your hand down to his groin. He lets out a strained “cyar’ika” as you palm his cock over his flight suit.
“Feel like shedding another layer?” you ask with a grin.
“You want to see me like that?”
“Baby, I’ve been dreaming about it.”
“You mean that?”
“Mhm,” you say, feeling the wetness grow between your legs.
“I guess I could take it off.”
“Only if you want to,” you reassure him, meeting his gaze again.
“I’m sure,” he says with a small nod.
He takes off his gloves, tossing them by the pile of beskar the corner before slipping off his boots. You follow the movement of his hands, realizing this is the first of his skin you’re seeing other than his cock. His hands are calloused, peppered with small scars from years of training, fighting, and bounty hunting.
And now it’s time for the flight suit to come off. He takes a deep breath and unzips it, stepping out of it and again tossing it by the pile of armor in the corner. His cock springs free as he releases it from the fabric, hard and sticking straight out. His whole figure is broad, his limbs toned and muscular. There’s more scars like the ones on his hands. Some are smaller and paler in color. Some are deeper, their edges more irregular. He’s got some beauty marks as well, each of them scattered about in his chest and arms, down to his legs. On his left bicep he has a tattoo, a simple black ring encircling his upper arm. It suits him well. He’s just beautiful, every feature of his telling a part of his history. And you’d like to know more.
You’ve had thoughts in the past that seeing Din completely naked with just his helmet on might be a weird sight, but now that it’s here in front of you it just feels right; a sliver of intimacy you and only you will ever know, even if you can’t see his face.
“Din… you’re beautiful,” you say, hands immediately gravitating to his sides.
“You don’t mean that.”
“Oh but I do,” you say, one hand roaming up his torso and to his chest, while the other moves down to his cock.
He says nothing, his visor fixed on your hand stroking his cock.
“Let me show you,” you say softly.
You sink to your knees and kiss along his groin. He lets out a soft groan every time you inch closer to his cock. You bring a hand to his balls and cup them lightly before finally swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, sliding it underneath the foreskin to draw a sharper moan from him. He curses under his breath and runs a hand through your hair, desperate for more.
And finally, you give it to him, taking his length in your mouth. The grip on your hair tightens as you bob your head up and down, all while you’re still cupping his balls. You look up at him, making eye contact with his visor as you suck him off. All of a sudden his balls tighten up in your hand and his cock twitches in your mouth. He’s going to cum soon but you’re not ready for that just yet. You pull your mouth away much to his chagrin as he lets out a soft whimper when you do.
“On the cot, baby,” you say, wiping the drool dripping from your chin.
He lies down on the cot and you move to straddle him, his cock glistening with his pre cum and your spit resting by your cunt. He brings a hand to your entrance, stroking it up and down with his fingers and spreading around your wetness. His fingers circle around your clit, working you up and making you more anxious to sit on it already. And eventually, you just can’t take it anymore.
You move his hand away, pinning it up by his helmet while you inch forward and sink down onto his cock. You’ve ridden him before but now you get to rest his hands on his bare chest for once. And you do, the warmth of his skin radiating against your palms as you rock your hips back and forth. His hands move to your waist, giving the skin a soft squeeze while you drive his cock deeper inside you.
“Kriff, cyar’ika,” he curses, coming out as a moan.
“Mmm, you feel so good. Kriff, you look so good, Din,” you respond, tears stinging your vision as you look into his visor. It’s hard to stay fixed on his visor for long, though. Your eyes want to roam his body. They keep gravitating towards the tattoo on his bicep.
“And when did you get this?” you ask, fingers grazing the tattooed skin.
“A long time ago. You like it?”
“Mhm. Maybe you should get more.”
“Oh, yeah? You’d like that?”
“I’d love that.”
Kriff, now you’re thinking of Din with more tattoos and your mind starts going hazey at the thought. You grind your hips against him, feeling the wetness seep out of you and down his shaft, soaking his groin. The small bunk is filled with the obscene noises of skin colliding with skin and the wet sound of his cock moving in and out of you.
Soon enough, you’re at the edge of orgasm thanks to Din’s cock hitting all the deepest angles inside you, the sight of his bare body beneath yours and the thought of him with tattoos.
“Din, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.
“Mm, let me feel it, cyar’ika.”
A tingling sensation originates at your core and spreads outwards. The movement of your hips grow erratic as you ride out your high, the pool of wetness beneath you growing bigger as you cum. Your own orgasm triggers Din’s and soon you’re both coming together. His cum spills inside you and his grip on your waist tightens as he moans your name.
But now you’re resting against his chest, his cock still inside you and starting to go soft. Your bodies are slick with sweat as you catch your breath. You whisper beside his helmet, “You should get naked more often.”
“I bet you’d like that.”
“Oh come on, you know I would.”
He chuckles, “I know, cyar’ika. I know.”
He rubs your back and soon enough you’re both falling asleep, letting the exhaustion from the day and the evening’s activities finally get to you. You could spend the rest of your days like this.
Tumblr media
Follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post a new fic!
484 notes · View notes
psychosith · 4 months
Text
Just Admiring
Din Djarin x reader, Poe Dameron x reader (seperate)
summary: you’re touching up your appearance in their visor and they sit back to admire you
warnings: fluff? idk
a/n: this is based off a request by @raechu11, though i altered it a bit to include my boy poe cuz i feel like he doesn’t get enough love😔 another rushed piece but y’all already know writers block is hitting me like a cement brick rn sooo
Tumblr media
Din Djarin
Tumblr media
You’re on a supplies run on Coruscant, sleep deprived and sore after a thrilling mission in the outer rim. Din had gone to a weapons shop a few blocks away, and you were getting some medical supplies for your kit on the ship. After picking up some bandages and bacta, you headed to the rendezvous point, a nearby cantina.
The atmosphere in the cantina was loud and distracting, but you managed to snag a quiet booth in the corner where Din found you a few minutes later. He slid into the seat next to you and you two ordered something to eat. Well, you ordered something to eat. Din insisted he wasn’t hungry yet still offered to pay for your meal.
The food was nothing spectacular, as to be expected in a dingy cantina like this, and it was messy. Sauce spilled out onto your plate and eventually, your face. You searched around for a napkin and found one to wipe your mouth with. “Alright,” you say, turning back to Din. “Ready to head out.”
Din hesitates a little, before gesturing to where his mouth would be. “You have a little…” he says.
“Oh,” you say. Your face flushes red as you turn away in embarrassment before an idea pops into your head. You turn to face Din and glimpse yourself in the oddly reflective visor of his helmet.
You swipe at the bit of sauce on your lip and reach into your pockets and grab a tin of lip salve. Facing back towards Din, you apply the salve and take another few seconds to fix your hair, generally touching up your appearance. Din doesn’t move once throughout this entire endeavor, it seems he’s transfixed. You can hear a soft laugh from Din’s helmet, and his shoulders shake slightly to accompany the sound.
“Something funny?” you ask. His head tilts slightly as he relaxes and lets himself live in the moment.
“Not at all. Just… admiring.”
Tumblr media
Poe Dameron
Tumblr media
(omg the way hes looking at the person in this gif someone sedate me)
The last strike against the Empire had been entirely unsuccessful. You had lost valuable men and resources that day, and it was time to do damage control. General Organa was coming down to your base to help, and there was roughly five minutes until you would be meeting with her. Unfortunately, you had also just gotten back from a small dogfight with a couple of imperial TIE fighters on one of this planet’s many moons. You and Poe had managed to take them all down, but now you were sweaty and flushed from the exertion. You were sure you had a bad case of helmet hair and you had no time to change from your suit.
Poe offered to walk you to the meeting, still in his flight suit and helmet still on. When you’re finally at the door to the meeting room he offers some words of encouragement. “Don’t be nervous,” he says with that trademark smirk, “I’m sure you’ll survive.”
“Wow, thanks,” you respond, sarcasm heavy in your tone. “How do I look?”
Without thinking, you start looking into his helmet visor and smoothing out your flyaway hairs. You comb through your hair with your fingers and start to impulsively flatten your tousled flight suit.
When your eyes unfocus from your own reflection, you meet Poe’s warm brown ones. His eyes dance across your features as he looks you up and down, and all of a sudden you become sheepish at the thought of him watching you. “What, do I have something on my face?”
“No,” he says. His hand moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I was just admiring.”
“Oh,” you say.
“You look beautiful.”
417 notes · View notes
ilovepedro · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
Woven in the Stars | din djarin x f!reader
Main masterlist
Series Summary: Instead of navigating the galaxies, Din is navigating his new home life with Grogu on the ourskirts of Nevarro. In doing so, he meets you - a seamstress in town. The two of you form a beautiful bond through helping him adjust to domesticity in his secluded cabin. Throughout the time you share together, the bond you have flourishes into something more that can no longer be contained.
Rating: 18+ MDNI (All ageless blogs will be blocked.)
Series Warnings: slow burn, mutual pining, yearning, simp!Din, domestic!Din, dad!Din, soft!Din, lil bit of OOC!Din, masturbation (female + male), eventual smut, unprotected PIV (wrap it up y’all), oral (f and m receiving), reader has a birth control implant, breeding kink, spitting, fingering, Din is an ass man, possessive!Din, so much fluff, aftercare, lots of pet names, some POV switching, post-season 3, breaking the rules of the Creed, probs inaccurate star wars info, Din Djarin is referred to as Din and i’m not sorry, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, may change as I write (:
A/N: this whole idea struck while i was with my bff a while back. we were listening to “Slow Burn” by Kacey Musgraves and we both agreed that song is so Din coded so… here we are lol. i began writing domestic!Din back in October, and then i saw this STUNNING moodboard by @wildemaven and it fueled my brain rot even further! this will be divided into a few parts, and include an epilogue. i’m such a sucker for mutual pining slow burn 🫠 i hope y’all enjoy! 🫶🏼
Updates on Mando Mondays (schedule may vary)
Divider by the lovely @saradika
Tumblr media
Chapters
Chapter 1: Stitching Serenity
Chapter 2: Cosmically Sewn
Chapter 3: Unraveling Tapestry
Chapter 4: Moonlit Stitches
Chapter 5: Threads of Destiny
Chapter 6: Celestial Whispers
Epilogue: Etched in Stardust
383 notes · View notes
hyperactively-me · 3 months
Text
tension
Tumblr media
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
356 notes · View notes
sweetercalypso · 5 months
Text
Pearl Rosary || Din Djarin
Tumblr media
Word count: 1.7k
Summary: Priest of Mandalore!Din Djarin listens to your sins during confession
Notes: part three in my week of horror series! minors dni; public(ish) sex, finger sucking, deepthroating, cock worship, facial, reader is a Mandalorian who takes her helmet off, so much religious imagery
In the Cathedral of Mandalore, there’s only just enough light to make out the back of the wooden pew in front of you. The doors and windows are adorned with an ornate red glass that wash the chapel in a somber crimson gloom, a reminder that only those dedicated to their creedal faith are permitted inside.
The nave is silent beyond the occasional clink of beskar and the solemn bells ringing overhead in hourly intervals. You’d counted three resounding chimes, then four, then five, as the day stretches on outside the walls of the chapel.
In your tightly coiled spiral of pensive rumination, time seems to stand still.
Your eyes snap up as another Mandalorian passes by your aisle in their departure from the confessional. The small curtained booth at the front of the church has a strangely foreboding presence, and you’d been working up the courage to step inside all day.
The front doors close, and you’re left with your guilt once again.
If you admit to the thoughts weighing on your conscience, maybe you’ll have the chance to repent. Or, if the pit of dread in your stomach is any prediction, you’ll be cast out for your inclination towards a life of sin.
Before you can work up the nerve to decide whether to gamble your fate, the head of the church, Din Djarin, steps out of the other side of the confessional, rolling his shoulders to relieve the stiff ache of being confined in his narrow compartment.
His armor has grown dull with age and wear, buffed with a flat luster that speaks of its obstinate strength.
Others have said that his appearance makes him seem ordinary, but you’ve always thought that his mannerisms were what set him apart. His imposing stance, his commanding way of speaking, the way his head tilts when he’s deep in thought – he’s beautiful if you know where to look.
When he turns in your direction, your breath catches in your throat.
“You’ve been here for quite a while.” His voice has an unexpected warmth that licks up your spine. “Are you here to speak with me?”
Your eyes flicker warily to the confession booth. “I’m not sure.”
He seems to pause for a moment before making his mind up to join you, floorboards groaning under his heavy boots as he draws near. You shift uncomfortably on the hard bench, squirming under the spotlight of his attention. He stops at the end of your row and rests a hand behind you on the back of the pew.
“We can speak out here if you’d prefer.”
You’re surprised that he’d recognized the source of your unease, though you’re not sure if he realizes why the embrace of the confessional is so distinctly unnerving.
The people of Mandalore are not known for their empathy, especially not those held in high regard by the church. Din Djarin is a fiercely orthodox man, and you doubt he understands the position you’re in.
“I’ve seen you during services,” he comments. “Always so attentive.”
Heat rises to your cheeks at the thought of being recognized in the mass of devoted warriors that frequent his sermons. Is your shame so pronounced that you stand out in a crowd? “I didn’t know you paid attention to the assembly.”
He hums in response. “I care deeply for everyone in my congregation, especially those who are in danger of losing their faith. Tell me, what’s been troubling you?”
You hesitate before answering, skirting around the truth as much as you can, as much as he’ll let you.
“I’ve had… impure thoughts, father.”
“Oh?” His voice is rich with interest. “Indulge me, cyar'ika. What tempts you?”
His smooth, full baritone makes it impossible to deny his entreaty, like he’s wrenching your secrets from the far reaches of your mind.
“I’ve thought about… taking my helmet off in the witness of non-believers. I’ve thought about what you look like underneath your armor.” You pause for breath. “I’ve thought about your image at improper times.”
His chest falls with a heady sigh, though the sound is lost beyond the rasp of his modulator. “I see. And how do you think you should pay for your transgressions?”
The presence of other Mandalorians can be heard from outside the chapel – an admonition of what you have to lose if you are turned away. The air in the room shifts. Your hands flex at your sides.
“I’ll do anything.” You push forward onto the edge of your seat, ardently pleading for your chance at repentance. “Tell me how to make things right.”
He shifts in place, mulling over his options for what feels like an eternity. You swallow the urge to scream as silence rings in your ears.
Finally, he speaks.
“Maybe you’re too curious,” he decides. “Too concerned with things you cannot have.”
Your fingers dig into your palms, awaiting the final blow of his judgement.
“I think you need to experience firsthand the gravity of your desire.”
He leans down like he’s sharing something that no one else can hear, a sentiment too clandestine to be born in a house of worship.
“This is a sacred place,” he explains. “If you’re going to commit an act of sin, let it be here.”
You’re taken aback by the implication of his words. You’d been expecting a show of indignation, maybe even outrage for your betrayal of the Way, but it seems like he’s encouraging your lapse in faith. Surely, you’ve misunderstood.
The hand caressing your shoulder tells you that you haven’t.
“Revealing yourself to anyone a sin, and the public would have you exiled for removing your helmet. But here, in the presence of a higher being, I will make an exception.”
He doesn’t give you a chance to respond before his hands are on the underside of your helmet, tipping your head back with the force of his grip. The fabric of his gloves glides against your jaw as he lifts your beskar veil and exposes you under the chapel’s dim, ruddy glow.
You squint at the sudden shift in the light, surprised to discover what your dark-tinted visor had been hiding from you. The red halo cast around him is much more intense without the obstruction of your helmet. His outlined form burns with a fiery sanctitude that makes you shudder.
Your attention is drawn to his hands ghosting over your face, cradling your cheeks with a curious touch. The pad of his thumb presses against your mouth, tugging at the plush of your bottom lip. “Is this what you wanted?”
You swallow thickly and chance a look up at him, finding your face in the reflection of his visage. Your lips part in fascination at the sight of your own eyes staring back at you.
“That’s it, open up for me.”
His thumb presses further into your mouth and hooks behind your teeth. The taste of the holy chrism melts across your senses, balsam and olive oil and something you can’t name. When your tongue swipes out to meet his digit, he hums low in his chest and pulls his other hand back to curl around his belt.
“Does this make you feel good? Corrupting a man of faith?”
You whimper around his thumb, eyes blown wide with lust. The metal buckle at his waist glints in the low light, seemingly pleading for your touch. You don’t know how far he’ll take this lesson, but you’re hoping it ends in a mutual exchange of sin.
As if persuaded by your thoughts alone, he works open his belt and the fastenings of his pants, revealing a patch of tawny skin that contrasts the muted tones of his beskar.
“You need more than this, though. Don’t you?”
With a low hiss, he pulls his hardening cock from its confines, and your mouth waters at the sight. He’s eager, alive, twitching in his tight grip. The tip of his cock weeps as he bucks into his hand.
The heat simmering in your belly has grown into a blazing flame. When he swaps his thumb for the head of his cock, your thighs clench with the urgent need to consume him in every way.
His warm, salty taste is so human, so unlike the righteous figure he’s made out to be. You can almost picture what the rest of him looks like by the glimpse of what he’s offered you.
Your lips wrap coyly around his length, an earnest appeal for his approval.
The tint of his visor hides his eyes, but you gaze up at him anyway in hopes that he meets you halfway, that he commits the image of your debauched affair to memory.
“C’mon, this is your chance to atone.”
You trace the vein on the underside of his cock, tongue laving over him in search of a reaction, in search of redemption through your greedy act of worship. His hips stutter in response and the head of his cock twitches against the roof of your mouth.
He mumbles something akin to prayer and focuses his efforts, sliding further into your mouth until your nose presses against his pelvis and his cock settles in the back of your throat. You gag at the foreign pressure and try to pull away, but he settles a hand on the nape of your neck to hold you in place.
“That’s it, take it all.”
His thrusts are slow, lazy, careful not to overwhelm you. When he moves, it’s a gentle drag over your tongue, not the heedless intrusion you’d expected from him. He bucks his hips like he wants to know you’re enjoying it too.
“Fuck,” he grunts, chin dropped to his chest. “Your filthy mouth was made for this.”
You wish you could see him without the beskar disguising his reaction. The heave of his chest, the flex of his hands, the jump of his cock when you tongue the right spot – his body is so expressive, you have no doubt that his face would be too.
A few more juts of his hips and he’s pulling out of your mouth and forming a fist around his length, flushed skin glistening with your spit.
He chokes out a broken noise and angles his hips towards you, painting the evidence of your transgressions over your cheeks and your lips.
You touch your fingers to your face when he pulls away, eyeing his handiwork with a sound of approval. This part of yourself, it’s his now. Desecrated for the use of someone more sacred than yourself.
The corners of your mouth stretch into a grin. This is exactly the forgiveness you were looking for.
340 notes · View notes
forever-rogue · 10 months
Note
Hey! Can I get a Din x reader where a droid goes rogue and attacks and hurts the reader and obviously as we all know Din HATES droids and this just triple enforces that? ANGST. Droids are genuinely so terrifying and I feel this would be a good plot.
Tumblr media
AN | Please, this was such a good concept! Enjoy🥰
Warnings | Nondescript mention of injury
Pairing | Din x Fem!Reader
Word Count | 2.8k
Masterlist | Din, Main
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Din,” you caught up to him and reached for his hand, giving it an excited little squeeze, “I’ve found something exciting!”
“Slow down, cyar’ika,” you could hear the amusement in his voice as he kept you upright as you almost tripped over your own feet, “don’t need you hurting yourself.”
“Sorry,” you grinned at him, cheeks warming up as you slowed down and fell into step with him and Grogu, “I got excited - obviously.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he squeezed your hand in return as Grogu babbled happily, “just be careful - now tell me what’s so exciting?”
“I was just talking a walk around and I came across this little store,” you waved your around as you often had a tendency to do, much to your husband’s amusement, “kind of an out of the way place - don’t worry it wasn’t that bad - and they sell droids there! All kinds of different-”
“Droids,” he echoed as you offered him a sheepish smile. He’d had a long and complicated relationship with droids and you were pretty sure he was on a downward trend with them at the moment. You stepped in front of him and started walking backwards so you could grab both of his hands and look at him with a saccharine smile, “you are….what is so exciting about these things?”
“They’re all rescued and reprogrammed,” you insisted but you knew there was still a frown under the helmet, “so they’re clean slates. And they have protocol droids and gonk droids and R2 units!” 
“Mhmm…go on,” he insisted softly, wondering where this was going, “tell me more.”
“I just…I’ve always loved the old R2 units,” you prefaced, waiting for his little telltale sigh, “and I think it could be helpful to have one around…you know for when we’re busy with stuff. Or I could have some company if you’re gone and I can’t come.”
“Busy,” he echoed as you nodded, hoping you were doing enough to sell him on the idea, “I don’t know…there’s no real need is there?”
“Oh Din, we could use it for lots of things!” your eyes grew wide with excitement and your smile was beaming, “and it could be fun. Plus, it’d be a rescue little droid….you do have a tendency for liking rescues after all.”
You and Grogu exchanged a look before you turned back to him. He’d found and helped nurse you back to health and ended up taking you under his wing, just as he had Grogu. Din knew you had a point and looked between the two of you, hands on his hips and finally letting out his little sigh, “okay-”
“Yay!”
“Okay, we can take a look and then go from there,” he finished and you practically jumped into his arms in excitement. You wrapped your arms around him in a tight hug as best as you could with all of his armor on, “alright, alright - don’t get too excited. No promises are being made here.”
“I know,” you promised, but deep down you knew that Din hardly ever said no to you. You pressed your forehead against the cool beskar of his helmet, “I love you.”
“I know cyar’ika,” he touched your cheek, “I love you too.”
Grogu babbled happily at both of you.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“Look at him,” your hands were clenched at your sides in excitement as you tried to appear as calm as possible. You were pretty sure (dramatic as Din would insist) that you were about to combust from the cuteness, “isn’t he the cutest thing in the world?!”
Grogu tugged on the leg of your pants and gurgled at you with a concerned little look on his face. You reached down and scooped him into your arms, placing a gentle kiss on his head. He relaxed into your touch as you grinned at him. Din, meanwhile, was much less impressed, looking down at the R2 unit in front of him with disdain. 
He was an older unit, a remnant from the era of the Clone Wars, but was reset and given a second chance at life. He was more on the square side, but a pretty silver and dark pink color. In your eyes he was perfect - to Din he was a menace. 
“Are you sure?” he turned towards and when he saw the big smile on your face, he already knew that this droid was the newest member of your family. You looked at him and nodded shyly, “you’re sure.”
“Please Din?” you were absolutely willing to use Grogu as a manipulation tool if needed, “I won’t ever ask for anything again. He’ll be so useful to help around the house and everything!”
“I don’t know about that,” you could detect the disdain in his voice, but you appreciated the fact that he was willing to make this sacrifice and be more open-minded, “but if it’ll make you happy, it’s worth it.”
“You won’t regret this,” you kissed the spot where his cheek would be, the smile on your face switched from ear to ear, “I promise.”
“Hmmm,” he mused softly, tracing his fingers along your jaw, “let’s get him home then and we can see what he can do."
"Thank you," your eyes grew soft as you looked up at him, "for always being so wonderful. You truly are the best."
"Nothing to thank me for," he promised, his own features growing soft under the helmet. If it hadn't been for the armor, he might have melted into a puddle. You were his weakness and he'd do whatever you asked of him, he'd do whatever you wanted in order to put a smile on your face. You and Grogu were the beat of his heart and the blood that rushed through his veins - essential. There was no life or reality which he could imagine that the two of you weren't in.
"I know," you whispered, "but still - thank you. I love you so terribly much."
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Your new droid friend, named R-4Z and affectionately nicknamed Arezy, fit right into the home you'd built along with Din and Grogu. He helped around with chores both outside and inside and often liked to play with Grogu. More than anything he was good company when you were left alone.
Left alone was a dramatic way of putting it - there were times when you couldn't accompany Din and Grogu due to either working at your little apothecary or Din asking to remain behind. It used to make your skin prickle with hurt and annoyance but you knew that it was only because he wanted you safe. Nowadays it was more endearing than anything else. Unlike your boys, you didn't possess any tactical training and weren't force sensitive. But you were the brains of the operation as Din so sweetly put it.
This particular weekend found you and Arezy by yourselves. You'd decided to give your little shop a revamp since you had the time and the season was changing. You were puttering around, giving your companion directions for a few things as you did the other tasks.
You were enjoying your conversation with your friend but after a bit you noticed that you were basically speaking to yourself.
"Arezy?" you asked softly as you walked out of the small back room and towards the front. Nothing seemed amiss at first but then you heard some angry beeping, "what's wrong, buddy?"
The answer you were treated came into the form of a sharp shock in your side, the jab making you yelp in surprise and pain. You turned around to find the droid behind you, its arm out and pointed towards you. He started coming closer and beeping angrily - it was completely different from anything you’d seen before.
“What are you doing?” you grew worried as you ducked out of his way, trying to put some distance between the two of you, “what’s wrong?”
Apparently he didn’t want to talk because he kept trying to come after you. If you weren’t worried about actually getting hurt, you might have laughed; it was probably hilarious to watch this droid rolling after you. But he wasn’t one to be underestimated either, he could deal damage if he wanted to. 
Which you found out the hard way when he set out some tripwire and you…managed to trip right over it. You landed on the hard concrete with a loud oof, and untangled the wire from between your legs, trying to ignore the fact that you’d managed to scrape your knee and it was now bleeding. 
Your hands were shaking but you finally managed to break free, but not before he managed to come up and give you a few more shocks. They didn’t seem like much, but they did hit deep and shook you up.
Luckily it didn’t last very long - Arezy shut down as quickly as he had turned on. 
“Kriff,” you scrambled to your feet, stepping back just in case. You looked up and found Din standing there with Grogu at his side; you didn’t need to see his face to know there was a giant scowl on it.
“What happened?” he came over and took your face in his hands, looking to make sure there wasn’t too much damage. Your lip trembled with effort not to cry; you weren’t terribly hurt but you were more shaken up than anything else. You just hadn’t seen this coming. You heard him make a small sound in the back of his throat as you he took in your knee and the bruising that was already welling up on your arms, “cyar’ika…”
"I'm okay," you let out a shaky breath as you blinked back your tears, "I-I don't know what happened. He was just fine and then all of a sudden he just started attacking me. I didn't do anything and nothing happened."
He gently took your chin in his hand and turned your face up to his. Despite your best efforts, a few tears slipped down your cheeks and Din didn't hesitate to tenderly wipe them away, "droids."
"It's not," you didn't want this to further taint his view of droids, "it just happened. It was just an accident. These things just happen sometimes."
"The bad things always come from droids," he huffed as you sadly looked at Arezy, “what if…I hadn’t gotten here in time?”
“But you did,” you whispered softly, “that’s all that matters, Din. It was just…a malfunction. It’s an old droid, and I’m sure he can be repaired-”
“No.”
“Din-”
“I said no,” he said sharply, causing you to recoil slightly. He’d almost never snapped at you or spoken to you in any sort of harsh manner. Grogu had siddled up to you and hugged your leg, trying to convey the love he carried, “we’re going home.”
“Okay,” you weren’t about to argue with him when he was worried out of his mind. You knew your Mandalorian better than that. You knew that he’d come around - his heart was way bigger than he’d ever let or believed it was.
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Din had been mostly silent on the way home. WHen you stepped inside, there was a bit of tension in the air. You wished it wasn’t there, but you knew that it wouldn’t last. Things might have been bad in the moment but they wouldn’t last; the good always far outweighed the bad. You weren’t going to push him - you wanted him to come to his own conclusions. 
“C’mon,” he picked you up without hesitation, causing you to make a small sound of surprise as he walked you into the fresher. You felt like you were weightless in his strong embrace. 
He set you down and moved to slowly pull off your pants, after looking for permission. You sat on the edge of the tub and watched as he pulled off his helmet in order to properly study your knee. It wasn’t the worst, but it certainly looked bad. 
He pulled out the first-aid kit from under the bathroom sink, and took out what he needed. You watched as he moved with care to patch up the wound, making sure it was all clean and disinfected before bandaging it up. He trailed his fingers along your arms, taking in each mark. You could see the worry and upset in those pretty brown eyes. 
“Din,” you whispered his name, capturing back his attention as you put your hand on his face, brushing your thumb over his cheek, “look at me please.”
After a moment of hesitation his eyes met yours and you offered him a small smile. He swallowed thickly, “I don’t want anything to happen to you. Ever.”
“I know,” you could feel him gently leaning into your cheek, “I know you don’t, my love. I don’t ever want anything to happen to you either. I’ll keep you safe, just like you always keep me safe.”
“I couldn’t today-”
“What happened today was a fluke,” you insisted softly, “it could have happened to anyone. If it hadn’t happened to me, it would have happened to whoever else got him. That’s just it, that’s life. But the thing is, Din, you did rescue me.”
“You’re so forgiving,” he took your hand in his and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, “you always see the bright side.”
“I think it’s not too bad of a way to live,” you laughed softly, and Din couldn’t help but smile. He swore the sound of your voice was the best thing in the world, “it’s how I got you to let me, isn’t it? Look where we are now.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head fondly at you, “I guess you’re not wrong, cyar’ika.”
“I’m not,” you insisted, “will you promise me something?”
“Anything.”
“Don’t let this one moment, this one thing ruin your perception of all droids,” you insisted and you could hear his little huff, “please? I promise this won’t ever happen again.”
“I’ll try,” he promised and you could feel that he was being honest with you, “for you, I’ll try.”
“You’re a good man, Din Djarin,” you leaned in and kissed him softly, “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
Almost a month had passed since the incident and neither of you had brought it up again. You figured it was better to let things happen as they did.
But then Din managed to surprise you once again.
“Din?” you made it back from the market with Grogu at your feet, both of you carrying some food. He hadn’t come with you, insisting that he had a few things to do at home. You let yourself in and the two of you made it to the kitchen. But something was different, something was off.
You heard a few small beeps that caused you to turn on your heel to find the source of the noise. In the opposite doorway you found Din along with-”
“Arezy!” you almost dropped the goods in your arms, but Grogu was faster and kept everything from falling. You ran over to the droid and dropped your knees in order to give him a hug. He beeped merrily at you, “you’re back! Oh, I’ve missed you. I hope you’re feeling all better.”
“He is,” Din smiled softly, “I took him to Anzellans and they were able to fix him right up. There was some sort of issue with the motherboard, but it’s been fixed.”
“You did this,” you took up and hugged him. He chuckled softly before wrapping his arms tightly around, “you sweet, wonderful man. I can’t believe it…how? Why?”
“Accidents happen,” he echoed your words from earlier, “but that doesn’t mean they have to cloud our opinions of everything else. I listen sometimes, cyar’ika. I figured that if you decided that you can forgive him and move past what happened, I can do the same.”
“You’re a wise man,” you kissed his cheek, “listening to your riduur. Thank you for this. You’re…the best.”
“That is you,” he promised and Grogu cooed happily from where he was climbing onto Arezy, “I’m glad you’re happy, cyar’ika.”
“I am,” you grinned, “and I am very much in love with you too. You are everything, Din.”
“You,” he grinned as he took your face and pressed kisses all over it, “are everything. I love you.”
“I love you, Din Djarin.”
749 notes · View notes
midnightdjarin · 9 months
Text
still crying over how gently and politely din held her wrists (I am touch starved)
Tumblr media
529 notes · View notes
starjedi86 · 1 month
Text
Make a wish
Tumblr media
Summary: You and Din enjoy a peaceful night wrapped around each other’s arms.
Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader
Warnings: None
Word Count: 882
Authors Note: Hi everyone! This fic was inspired by a picture I saw on Pinterest the other day. I hope you enjoy it!!
Tumblr media
As the night progressed, Din lay in the grass outside his small cabin, his helmet resting beside him and his gaze fixed upon the twinkling stars scattered across the night sky.
Finally, he found a moment of peace and relaxation. Having to spent most of his life as a bounty hunter, always on the move and alert to any threat that might arise, he cherished this much-needed break. And now, in this quiet corner on the outskirts of Nevarro, he could finally breath freely, escaping the constant danger he was always faced.
However, despite the risks and distressing circumstances he had faced as a bounty hunter, he knew he would never regret his past. It was through that life that he had crossed paths with you, the person who had brought light and love into his life.
It had been a few years since you started dating, he couldn’t even remember how his life was before he met you. He was sure it was dark and cold, as he wasn’t used to having someone by his side. It was only when Grogu came into his life that he started to realize how much you meant to him, and that’s when he found the courage to ask you out.
Lost in his thoughts, Din didn’t realize that you were walking towards him until you settled beside him, your comforting presence in the stillness of the night. As he turned to you, a soft smile broke across his lips at the sight of your familiar and beautiful face.
Reaching out, he pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you closer to him. Feeling the warmth of your body against his, he savored the moment, grateful for your calming and comforting company.
Leaning into him, you rested your head against his chest, listening to the soft and steady rhythm of his heartbeat as you looked at the stars. Taking his hand in yours, you gently intertwined your fingers with his, feeling safe in his presence.
After a moment, Din finally broke the silence, raising his hand to stroke your hair. “Is the kid finally sleeping” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm against your head.
You nodded softly, a small smile forming on your lips as you thought about that small little cutie that managed to steal your heart. “Yes, it took some time, but he’s out like a light.”
Din exhaled a quiet sigh of relief as his expression softened, a playful hint of amusement appearing in his eyes. “Seems like he has started to enjoy your company more lately,” he remarked, a gentle teasing tone in his voice.
You shook your head and chuckled softly, a tender smile gracing your face. “I don’t think he prefers me over you,” you said, reaching out to gently touch his cheek. “You’re his father, Din. You’ll always be his favorite person in the entire galaxy.”
Din’s heart swelled with affection at your words, reassured by your understanding and support. As he gazed at you, an intense sense of gratitude washed over him, knowing that he was blessed to have you by his side.
"Thank you, cyar'ika,” Din said softly, his voice filled with affection as he gazed into your eyes. "For everything you’ve done for me, for us."
You smiled back at him, warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "You don't have to thank me, Din," you replied. "I'm just happy to be here with you."
In response, Din gently squeezed your hand three times, a silent declaration of his love for you—a gesture you both had used since the begging of your relationship. It was a way of saying “I love you” without needing to say it out loud, a silent promise that you’ll always be there for each other, no matter the circumstances life brought.
You returned the gesture, matching his action with three gentle squeezes of your own, your heart overflowing with love and affection for the man you were lucky to call yours.
As you both gazed up at the stars, a shooting star streaked across the sky, causing you to gasp in excitement. “Look!” you exclaimed, shaking his arm with your hand. “Make a wish!”
You closed your eyes eagerly, a smile tugging at your lips as you made your silent wish. Din watched you with love, a small chuckle escaping his lips at your enthusiasm.
When you opened your eyes again, you met Din’s gaze, a curious expression on your face. “What?” you asked, raising your eyebrows in confusion.
Din's smile widened as he shook his head, his eyes shining with affection. "Wanna know something? I don't need to make any more wishes," he said softly. "Because everything I ever wished for is right here with me." He gestures towards you and the child, his heart overflowing with love for the two of you.
Touched by Din’s words, you leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, a silent expression of the love and affection you had for him. You couldn’t be happier, the love you had for this man grew stronger day by day, and you knew that he felt the same way. After all, you were lucky to have him by your side.
134 notes · View notes
bits-and-babs · 6 months
Note
could i be cheeky and ask for some more mandalorian 👀 preferably touch starved din
Tumblr media
✦ 𝐊𝐄𝐄𝐍 ✦
Tumblr media
– KINKTOBER DAY 2: TOUCH STARVED
din djarin x reader | smut, 18+ | 1.2k words
summary: the child has been getting in the way of you and mando spending time together. after weeks without your touch, he's finally reaching his limit.
cw: f!reader, needy din, slightly ooc din to fit the theme, begging, oral (m receiving), cumming early, reference to f oral.
⇽ KINKTOBER MLIST | DAY 3: PHONE SEX ⇾
Tumblr media
Even a kriffing Miraluka, blind as they are, could see how badly Mando desperately wanted you to touch him. The sheer yearning that rolled from The Mandalorian in waves was enough to shift the midichlorians themselves, the fibres of the galaxy trembling whenever you were near him.
Weeks trapped inside the Crest with Mando, far too preoccupied with the tiny green gremlin to pay attention to his needs had taken its toll on the warrior's mentality. Grogu had been pulling at wires, leaving the ship static in dead space and even managed to find a button that sucked the oxygen from the hangar, resulting in a frantic struggle to restore O-Levels to baseline before your lungs shrivelled. A menace to the galaxy, you’d spent more time with your eyes glued to the tiny, green hazard than you had sleeping. 
Tumblr media
In turn, Mando was practically trembling with need. He’d let out a shaky sigh every time you sat beside him in the passenger seat, voice-strain evident even with the crackle of the vocoder doing its best to conceal the distress that dripped from each singular-syllable response to your questions. 
In deep space with the child finally down in his cot for a much needed sleep, Mando’s leather gloves creak with the grip he tightens around the controls of the Crest. You hear the grains scream under the pressure as you approach, glancing over the map and the coordinates Greef Karga had offered in Mando’s search for the bounty. It’s cruel, barbaric almost, but you swear you can’t see the digits, numbers far too small for you to see from this close… So you place your palm on Mando’s shoulder, leaning over him in an attempt to get a better view. 
You'd never admit it, but the way you somehow managed to touch him between the Beskar plates of his armour was completely intentional. It was a guilty pleasure, seeing the stoic bounty hunter crumble simply from the pressure of your fingers. His chest heaves, each muscle in his body stiffening under the weight of your fingers. 
Regardless of how heavy the Mandalorian’s stare was, his eyes burning into your skin from behind the tinted visor, you refuse to advance without his request. You pretend not to notice, mouthing the digits of the coordinates to yourself, squinting as though you were unable to see.
It had been weeks of this Loth Cat and Womp Rat game, and poor Mando seems to be reaching the end of his tether.
You finally feel his respove snap when you settle your hand on the nape of his neck, leaning further over his shoulder to ‘check the fuel levels of the Crest was enough to make the journey’. Your fingertips brush the bare skin between the neck of his flight-suit and the edge of his chrome helmet, and Mando nearly doubles over like he's in pain. He chokes out, and you can tell he's already hard, his cock straining against his flight suit.
"Please, please fucking touch me,” Mando’s voice sounds utterly pathetic, a far cry from the vicious warrior that blasted through whole packs of assassin droids.”I can't take it anymore, I ca-ahaaa-" he can't swallow the moan that bleeds through the vocoder when you palm his cock though his suit. You can feel the hard curve of his cock twitch against your palm, even though the thick fabric. A rough squeeze sends Mando’s head rocking back against the seat with a quiet, metallic thunk. 
“It feels like you’ve missed me,” you murmur quietly, feeling his hips jerk against your touch when your voice reaches his ears. Prickling arousal bleeds across your skin at how reactive he is, the usually stoic figure shaking himself apart under your touch.
“M–Missed you so much,” he admits, and you’re almost certain you hear the strain of his teeth from grinding them together, “Hah– Need to feel you on me, nee-d to be in you.”
Offering a soft hum of acknowledgement to his suffering, you spin his seat around slowly. His head seems loose on his shoulders, unable to hold it upright when he sees you sink to your knees in front of him. You almost feel sorry for him, watching how he frantically scrambles to free his cock for you. 
The first drag of your tongue against the arch of his shaft has Mando panic-stricken, his hands grasping the arms of the seat when his dick throbs heavily against your taste buds. 
“Fuck–” He growls, practically choking on his own voice, “C–Can’t!”
“It’s okay,” you whisper against a pulsing vein beneath his velvety skin, “We can do it again…” 
Pre-cum slips from the ruddy head of his cock at your gentle encouragement, a tortured whine rattling in Mando’s lungs. It’s so loud that you wouldn’t be surprised if the sound was bouncing inside the Beskar walls of his helmet. 
Carefully, you trace the tip of your tongue against the salty head of his cock, letting out a sharp breath when Mando takes a tight fistful of your hair. His chest is heaving, barely able to keep from slurring his words when he begs you to take him into your mouth. 
Slackening your jaw, you hum softly as you take just a few inches. Mando, in what seems like a half hearted attempt to escape the overwhelming pleasure, pushes his whole body back against the chair while choking out obscene curses. You’re so slow, trying your best not to overwhelm the poor, devastated man– but the flat of your tongue pressed against the underside of his cock and the tip nudging the back of your throat is all it takes to obliterate his self control. 
Mando sounds almost winded by the force with which he cums. His balls pull up so tight, the fingers in your hair clenching to the point your follicles scream beneath the grip. Underneath the Beskar armour, every muscle in his body flexes before the cum hits the back of your throat. Spurts of thick, salty seed paint the inside of your mouth, violent jerks of his shaft causing Mando’s head to fall backwards again, whimpering as you swallow down– swallow around him. 
“Hoh-Fuck–! Stars,” he babbles, wheezing out your name while the last of his cum drips from his cockhead. Pulling from him when his thighs finally start to seize from the overstimulation, you lean your head against Mando’s trembling knees and giggle. He looks utterly exhausted, slumped in his seat and chest heaving as he sucks oxygen into his lungs. 
“Your mouth– hah–” he wheezes out a slight laugh, so unlike the reserved Mando you met in a bar on Corellia. You’d stopped the child from running off into the crowd, and somehow found yourself with the role of babysitting him while following the bounty hunter on his adventures. “It’s so good…”
“Mhmm,” you hum in agreement, smiling to yourself at the memory of meeting the apathetic, almost grumpy chrome-man as you brush your palm across his thigh and closing your eyes to sweeten the deal, “So is yours. Put it to use and taste me?” You hear the tnk of his helmet touching the ground soon after.
Tumblr media
pedro pascal/kinktober taglist:
@xwing-baby , @mybugboy , @pansa-1-san , @pedrosprincess , @cosm1c-babe , @lil-stark , @heart-atttack @crybaby-blue-blog, @ssimelttilgniht @2pacacabra @pauldanosgf @leithatnight @kirsteng42 @dindjarinsmut @s0ftgabby @milly-louise @aynsleywalker @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @uncassettodiricordi @howellatme @mortallyuniquepeach @maviee @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @stvrlights-world @alloftheboysivelovedbefore @girlofchaos @s-u-t @pintsizedsunshine @djarin-dreams @solidly-indulgent @bii-aan-ckaa @casa-boiardi @maelstrom007 @nikisfwn @levi-llama @haunt3dh3art @lundenloves @rentaldarling @cyberpr1m3 @jedi-in-crocs @yunggoblin @spideyman-peter @iaur @cool-iguana @paleidiot
@bloodmoon-bites @wiltedwonderland @doggydale @limegreenbabx @namelesshumanperson @ninahhh-brahh
918 notes · View notes
ddejavvu · 11 months
Note
okay din djarin request! what about din being reader’s first kiss? with shy-ish reader maybe? he acts tough but I just know he’s a huge softie for shy!r
Technically, it might be a little unfair to sneak up on Din after his shower. Your feet graze slowly, carefully, over dirt and rocks, planting themselves in areas that will cut up the soles of your shoes the least. Then they hit tile, and you know you're approaching the showers. It's hard navigating with your eyes closed, but you'd rather ram into a wall than compromise Din's way of life.
Fortunately for you, you don't ram into a wall. You hear the sound of water being rung from a cloth, then a dry towel grating through Din's hair. God, you wonder, what color is his hair? What does it look like? Is it long? Is it short? Is it-
"Y/N?" You hear, Din's voice much less tinny without the helmet on. It's still deep, rough, though, and it sends a shiver up your spine. You startle, and you nearly drop your hands from over your eyes, but you catch yourself.
"You can't be here," Din scolds, already scrambling for his helmet, "I- You can't see me, not like this."
"My eyes are covered," You promise, and you hear him still, then shift, probably turning to face you.
"Did you need something?" Din asks, slightly less tense this time. It's still there, and you wish you could see the accompanying look on his face. Is it stern? Is it curious? Is it pretty? You bet it's pretty.
"I.." Now that you're here, you don't know what to say. You take a deep breath, pressing your hands further over your eyes, "I like you, Din."
He's silent; deathly so.
"And- I think you like me, too," Now you're glad you can't see his face, and you try to hide more of yours like you'll simply disappear, "And if I'm right... I want you to kiss me."
There's more silence, and you blabber to fill it: "I've never been kissed before. And I want you to do it, I- I want you to be my first."
"But if you don't want to," You feel pathetic now, shoulders sagging, lips trembling ever so slightly, "I guess I'll-"
"Stop." You hear, Din's voice suddenly inches away from you. You gasp, and your breath holds stiff in your chest.
A hand slides over your own, gentle in pressure but rough in texture. Din's hand keeps your hands pressed to your eyes, and his other comes to ghost against the underside of your chin.
It's better than you could have ever imagined. He tilts your chin up, soft and sweet, and his lips press against you hesitantly. You've never seen Din as anything but confident and stony, now you're sure if you opened your eyes and tore your hands away from your face you'd see a loverboy staring back at you. His lips are soft, but there's a mustache prickling against your skin. His kiss is such a sweet juxtaposition from his sleek armor, the beskar plating that you've dozed off against countless times since meeting and travelling with the Mandalorian.
He barely puts pressure there, he gives you just a taste. All he does is lock your lips, and hold it there. It lets you soak him in, and you hope he can feel the giddy adoration that you're pumping into the embrace.
Then, just as gently as he'd kissed you, he breaks away.
Cold air rushes to hit your lips, a chilling contrast from Din's warm, soft ones. He's still lingering by your face, you feel his breath on your skin, but he lets his hand slowly fall away from your own.
"Don't open your eyes," He warns, voice impossibly soothing and husky, "I want you to put my helmet on."
"Okay," You stammer, pressing your hands more flush to your face as his footsteps recede. Then you hear the scrape of metal on stone, and he pulls at your hands with a bare one of his own.
"Keep your eyes closed," He reminds you, "You need both hands."
"Okay," You nod, letting him peel your hands away from your eyes, though you keep them squeezed tightly shut.
"Feel it?" He asks, slipping his helmet between your hands. You nod, fingers tracing the curves you've only explored with your eyes before now.
"Reach up," He tells you, pushing your elbow. You do as you're told, and he takes hold of your forearms to guide the helmet over his head.
Lowering it feels like hell. You feel like he's slipping away from you, like whatever connection you'd had will disappear with his lips. But his hands stay on your arms even after you secure the helmet on his head, and he takes your face in his hands.
Gently he thumbs at your eyelids, voice once more filtered through his helmet, "You can open your eyes now."
A familiar sleek design greets you when your eyes open, albeit a blurry one from how hard you'd been squeezing them shut. Your eyes linger on the horizontal stripe, where you know his eyes are beneath the helmet, wishing you could gaze into them and see his soul through them.
All you can do is lean forwards again, pressing a soft kiss to the cold beskar, where his cheek would be. He keeps his hands on your face, but he lets you pucker your lips against his helmet, and you hope that he's blushing beneath the metal armor.
486 notes · View notes
beskarandblasters · 4 months
Text
Good Girls Are Quiet
aka riding the hilt of Din’s vibro-blade like there’s no tomorrow
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist
Author’s note: I just want to preface this by saying this is filthy. That is all.
Summary: At the Outlander Club on Coruscant, you try to help Din capture a bounty. But when the bounty makes a move what on belongs to Din, that just won’t do. Din takes you a sleazy motel after and shows you just who you belong to.
Word count: 2.1k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), takes place when Din is an apostate, bounty gets handsy with you, possessive!Din, light canon typical violence, brat taming, reader gets “punished”, rough oral sex (M receiving), slapping, cum eating, nipple play, knife kink, riding the hilt of Din’s vibro-blade, daddy kink, helmet comes off, spitting, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, use of Mando’a words (cyar’ika = sweetheart), pet names (good girl), no use of y/n
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
The loud music in the Outlander Club vibrates your entire body, and the smoke hanging in the air fills your lungs. Kriff, this sucks. But it was your idea to help Din distract this bounty. You’re wearing a scantily clad dress, moving through the crowd, and scanning the room for your target; a human male named Colo. You took a good look at his bounty poster before heading inside the club but you’re still going to have to be vigilant. This place is packed and he could easily slip away without you or Din noticing. 
Din’s hanging out off towards the wall to not draw too much attention to himself. He tends to do that everywhere he goes so that’s why you offered to help. And just as your eyes land on the bar, you spot Colo, sitting alone and sipping on revnog.
Now you can set your plan into motion. It’s time to flirt. 
You walk up beside him, resting an elbow on the bar and looking around with wide eyes like you’re lost or something. He notices you out of the corner of his eye and turns towards you.
“You come here often?” he asks, mouth curling into a smirk.
“No,” you say, making your voice a higher pitch, “What about you?”
“I’m a regular, baby. How about I buy you a drink and show you what’s good?
“I think I have an idea about what’s good here,” you wink, internally cringing at yourself.
Maker, please be over soon.
“Oh, really?” he says, picking up what you’re unfortunately putting down. 
He leans forward and rests his hand on your hip, slowly inching towards your ass and squeezing it.
“How about you tell me what that is?”
You open your mouth to respond but before you can, Colo is against the bar with Din pressing his vibro-blade against his neck. It all happened in a blur. The second the hand cupped your ass Din was on the move. 
“Hands off,” he growls. 
But before the fight progresses any further the bartender shouts, “Take that outside! Now!”
You’re frozen, unsure of what to do next until Din grabs your hand and physically drags you out of there. You still can’t grasp how fast all of that happened, keeping your eyes averted to the floor to avoid the stares of the club-goers before stepping outside. 
And now here you are, silently walking the streets of the lower levels. You know Din is fuming underneath his helmet but… What does he have to be mad at you for? You were just trying to help. 
“Din?” you say softly, looking up at him. The neon lights reflect off his armor and you can’t deny he looks sexy right now, especially when he’s mad. You looove to get under his skin even more. You know he likes it when you act like a brat. He can deny it all he wants but you know it’s true.
He doesn’t answer you so you continue.
“I don’t get why you’re mad. I was just trying to help,” you say matter-of-factly, folding your arms and pushing your breasts together. They threaten to spill over the low-cut neckline of your dress. And that’s when he can’t take it anymore. He grabs your hand again and drags you down the street, but he’s going in the opposite direction of the docking yard where the Razor Crest is parked.
“Where are we going?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder at the direction you should be going. 
“To teach you a lesson,” he growls, stopping at what looks like a motel, a sleazy one at that. The neon sign is broken, only a few letters lit and one of them flickering. You can’t even read what it says. He pulls you by the hand inside, and the interior is even more abysmal than the exterior. Seedy characters lurk in the shadows of the lobby, staring at you and Din while he drags you to the front desk. You’re so stunned by his actions. Din never does stuff like this. He prefers to sleep in the comfort of the Crest where he’s in control of his surroundings. Not left at the mercy of whatever goes on at night in this sleazy motel.
You don’t question it when he gets a room for tonight, anxious to see where the night takes you. 
“Room one hundred and three. Down the hallway on your right.”
He takes the room key from the front desk worker and heads down the hallway, the lights flickering above you. He stops at a door, unlocks it, and shoves you inside. As soon as the door is closed he presses you up against it, bringing his helmet by your ear.
“Do you know why you need to be punished?” he growls, a hand sliding up your waist.
“...No.”
“Really?” he says with a low chuckle, “Maybe I need to help you remember.”
He grabs you by the waist and drags you over to the bed, setting you down on the edge. He stands in front of you, the bulge in his flight suit directly in your face. He grabs your chin, angles your face up towards his visor, and says, “Now, cyar’ika. Tell me why you’re getting punished.”
You try to look at the bulge that’s so close to your face by moving your head slightly. But he grips your chin tighter and teases you, “Nope. Eyes up here, slut.”
“For… for flirting with that guy at the club.”
“That’s right. I think you need to be reminded about who you belong to.”
You gulp and the hand not holding your chin pulls his cock free from his flight suit. 
“Be a good girl and suck my cock,” he says, pulling you towards his groin. You open your mouth wide and keep your tongue flat, taking his length in your mouth. He thrusts back into you, forcing his cock down your through as far as it’ll go. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes but you keep going, trying your best to be a good girl for him. His hands move to either side of your face as you bob your head up and down. 
You look up at him and his visor is fixed on you, watching his cock moving in and out of your mouth.
“You like sucking daddy’s cock?” he says, slapping you across the face. 
You moan in response, sending vibrations down his length. He curses under his breath and slams into you harder. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore he cums down the back of your throat, holding your head flush against his groin. 
“Take all of daddy’s cum like a good girl,” he commands, wiping away a tear on your cheek. 
He finally releases your head and you catch your breath. Wiping away the cum leaking from your lips you ask, “My turn?”
“Not quite,” he teases, reaching forward and pulling the comforter off the bed. You watch as he grabs his vibro-blade from his boot, activating it and plunging it through the mattress. You let out a gasp, in shock that he just ruined this motel’s mattress. 
“Din, what did you-”
“You can sit on that,” he says sternly.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
You look at the blade vibrating inside the mattress and gulp before stripping your clothes and getting on the bed. You straddle the hilt of the vibro-blade, hovering over it. He moves behind you, reaching forward and cupping his hand under your mouth. 
“Spit,” he commands.
You do as you’re told, spitting into the palm of the glove. He rubs your saliva on the hilt, lubricating it for you to sit on. You take a deep breath and lower yourself on it, feeling the vibrations throughout your core. 
“Fuck yourself on it,” he says, hand returning to your chin. 
You rock your hips back and forth, just as Din’s other hand caresses the outline of your breast. He pinches your nipple between his fingertips eliciting a loud moan from you. The hand on your chin clamps down on your mouth. 
“Good girls are quiet,” he reminds you. 
You nod and let out a soft whimper, continue to fuck yourself on the hilt. 
“You have to cum on this first. Show me you’re worthy of daddy’s cock,” he continues, growling directly in your ear. He releases your mouth to take off his helmet and set it on the bed. He grabs your chin and angles your head up to face him. You catch a glimpse of him, his curls matted and his skin glistening with a layer of sweat. There’s a truly dark and primal look in his eye, watching as you writhe against him.
“Open,” he commands. 
You open wide and stick your tongue out, just as he spits directly into your mouth. Just for him to clamp it shut again and return his hand over it, making you stay quiet. 
With one last grind of your hips, the hilt is buried even deeper into you, and you can’t hold on any longer. You whimper against his gloved hand, trying to signal you’re gonna cum soon. You’re worried that if you don’t ask for permission somehow he’ll deny you your release. 
“Gonna cum?” he says, amusement in his voice. 
You whimper some more and nod incessantly. 
“Soak it.”
You cum around the hilt, your walls fluttering around the vibrating metal. You feel your wetness seep out of you, running down your thighs and onto the sheets. 
“That’s a good girl,” he praises, slowly releasing your nipple from his fingertips. He removes his hand from your mouth and pushes you forward so you’re on your hands and knees. The hilt slips out of you as you stick your ass up in the air for him, getting ready to take his cock. 
Din hooks his hands on your hips, aligning himself with your soaking wet cunt. He thrusts into you in one clean motion, cursing under his breath before pounding into you unforgivingly. 
“Who do you belong to?”
“You,” you moan out.
“Who?”
“I belong to you, daddy!” you cry out. 
“Good girl, that’s right. Daddy owns this cunt, huh?”
“Yes, daddy. It’s all yours!” you cry out again, just as he slams into you with the most force he’s used so far. You cum around his cock, pulling his own orgasm from him. He cums inside you with his cock pressed right up against your cervix, letting out a guttural moan. He pulls out of you when he’s done and you fall forward, collapsing onto the bed. The vibro-blade is still impaled in the mattress. He pulls it out and deactivates it, leaning forward and hovering over you.
“Do you understand why you were punished now?”
“Yes, daddy,” you sigh. 
“You had a big night, mesh’la. Get some rest,” he says softly, lying down beside you and rubbing your back. 
Just before sleep overtakes you, you whisper, “I don’t know… Maybe I need to act up again.”
“Oh there’s no maybe,” he chuckles, “You’ll act up again. But that just means I have to keep reminding you that you’re mine.”
“Sounds good to me,” you whisper, drifting off to sleep under Din’s touch. 
-
You wake up the next morning and get ready to check out of the motel room, weirdly missing it already. But just as you turn to leave the building, one of the housekeeping employees stops Din.
“Sir?”
Oh, this is definitely about the mattress.
You both turn around to face the worker, an older woman who seems nice enough. She continues, “I don’t want to know how exactly the mattress was damaged. But we can’t let you leave until you pay a fee.”
“Okay…” Din says awkwardly.
She leads you to the front desk and lets the employee stationed there handle the transaction. The woman whispers something in the other employee’s ear. You can only catch bits and pieces of what she said but definitely something about a weird stain on the mattress by the puncture mark. You look over at Din, who's staring directly at you. You’re sure he’s shooting daggers with his eyes under the helmet. Yeah, you’re definitely not coming back here again.
The woman sets off down the hallway to finish cleaning the mess you and Din made, just as the front desk employee says, “That’ll be six hundred credits.”
Six hundred credits.
Din grabs credits from his pocket and hastily sets them on the counter before grabbing your hand and dragging you out of the motel.
As soon as you’re back out on the street he says, “See what happens when you act up?”
“You’re the one who stabbed the bed,” you say, folding your arms.
“You're going to end up costing me a fortune,” he sighs.
“Don’t act like you don’t love it,” you tease.
He doesn’t deny it, of course.
Tumblr media
Follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post a new fic!
Banners/dividers by @saradika-graphics
If you or someone you know if the creator of the gif used, please let me know so I can give credit!
421 notes · View notes
honeyedmiller · 6 months
Text
Close | Din Djarin
Tumblr media
pairing: din djarin x f!reader
warnings: so much fluff, like literally this whole thing is just pure tooth rotting fluff and din and so soft in this, helmet comes off, reader and din are in LOVE
word count: 5.1k
synopsis: the man in shining beskar armor is one of mystery, and you were determined to get close to him.
based off of the song “close” by nick jonas
not revised (go figure) so sorry if there’s mistakes.
divider by @saradika
Tumblr media
“‘Cus space is just a word made up by someone who’s afraid to get too… close.”
He intrigued you from the moment you set your eyes on him. Tall, broad, glinting in beskar, and a complete mystery underneath the helmet.
You often passed him and his little green apprentice in the marketplace. It started off with you glancing at him. It then turned into small smiles on your end, and a curt nod on his.
The spring air was fresh the first time he spoke to you. You were picking out some fruits for your home, when you turned around and saw him standing behind you. You gasped softly, beaming up at him.
“Those are Grogu’s favorite,” The masked man said, tilting his visor down at the fruit you had in your hand. “I was going to get him some, too.” His modulated voice was deeper than you expected, but had a warm tone to it nonetheless.
“They’re my favorite, too.” You respond with a smile, splitting the fruit in half after quickly peeling it and handing it to the small creature.
“Oh, no, you don’t have to—” He starts, but you shake your head.
“I insist.” You grin as Grogu coos up at you, his ears perking up.
“He likes you.” The Mandalorian says, and you give him a small smile.
“Well it’s nice to officially meet you to, uh,” You pause, not knowing what to call the man.
“Mando.” He says, and you nod.
“Mando.” You repeat, holding out your hand. He looks down at it for a second, like he’s contemplating on shaking it or not. After a couple of beats, he extends his hand to shake yours.
“What’s your name?” He asks you, and you just grin up at him before slowly backing away from him.
You knew Mando obviously wasn’t his real name, so you decided to be a mystery to him all the same. You didn’t know much about Mandalorians, but you did know they had a creed they followed. It was strict and hid their identities, and you respected that. You just thought it’d be a bit fun to mess with the man in glinting beskar for awhile.
He knew it, too. He knew you were playing a little game, and honestly, he thought he’d hate it. He was a straight-to-the-point kind of man.
But he didn’t.
He saw it as a challenge. He asked people around to see if anyone knew your name, and no one did. Maybe you were just a private person. Which, in all honesty, you kind of were. You minded your own business on Nevarro. You were friendly, just not very talkative.
You on the other hand had went to the local library to find any books you could on Mandalorians. There weren’t many, but you did find one that explained some of their history and their language. Next time you saw Mando, you’d surprise him with your newfound learnings of his culture.
That wasn’t going to be for a few months, though. He ended up getting a job that sent him to the near other side of the galaxy.
He thought about you every single day. He didn’t know what it was about you that had you in his mind stuck like glue. Maybe it was the way you smiled up at him, how you were so friendly to his son, how you remained a mystery to him. Maker, it was just you in general. Your sweet voice, your kind eyes, your beautiful smile.
Mando felt strange about the way he perceived you. He barely even knew you and he was already thinking about you nearly every waking second of the day. He’d never felt this way with anyone, except for one other person.
Omera.
When he was on Sorgan, he almost thought about risking revealing his identity for her. He’d started to feel strongly about her, but he whisked those feelings away quickly.
He never knew how to connect with someone. His lifestyle always prevented him from settling down and allowing himself to actually get close to someone for once. He had a hard time expressing his feelings, and when they overcame him, he just shut down. He’d go into panic mode and close himself off completely so nobody would be able to experience the softer side of the man underneath all of the armor.
He couldn’t help but wonder from time-to-time what life would be like if he’d just settle down. Sure, he had a house to come back to now, but he had no home. Someone he could come back to after a long journey to ask him how it went, assure him everything will be okay, be there for him when he needed someone.
He craved that so badly, but he knew he just couldn’t get it.
The next time he saw you, it was the peak of summertime. He spotted you first. He was in the marketplace trying to restock on food for him and Grogu, when he saw you talking to the spice vendor. You had that same pretty, kind smile on your lips as you shook the vendor’s hand, putting your purchase in a bag you had slung over your shoulder.
You wore a black sleeveless shirt with a floor length green skirt. You looked even more beautiful than when he left.
You turned your body in his direction, saying your goodbye’s to the vendor as your eyes snapped to the familiar shine of beskar in front of you. You halted for a split second before approaching him slowly.
“Mando.” You greet, smiling up at him.
“Cyar’ika,” He nodded down at you, and your heart skipped a beat. Sweetheart. He’d called you sweetheart.
“It’s been awhile.”
He nodded.
“It’s nice to see you again, Mando.” You softly grabbed his bicep for a second, not wanting to overstep your boundaries. You let go of it quickly before walking off into the opposite direction, leaving each other to wonder about the other for the rest of the day.
That day, Din made it a point to stop by Greef Karga’s office.
“What can I do for you, Mando?”
“What can you tell me about this woman?” He pulls up a hologram photo of you from his glove, feeling nearly guilty about what he’s about to ask his old friend.
Karga quirks his brow at Din. “She’s not a bounty, is she?” He strokes his chin as his stance goes wide, gaze flickering between the hologram and Din’s visor.
“No, I just–” Din pauses, not even knowing what to say. “It’s to babysit Grogu. Need a sitter next time I go out to hunt a bounty.” Din lied, and Karga laughed knowing he was.
“Sure, Mando.” He chuckled, and Din’s face was hot under his helmet. Luckily, Karga didn’t press any further and gave him your name and where you lived. Din thanked the man and headed out for your house later on that evening.
You were hanging your freshly washed clothes up with clothespins, humming an unfamiliar tune. Din approached you carefully not wanting to startle you, but he did anyhow.
You jumped as you turned and saw him, putting a hand over your heart.
“Stars, Mando. You scared me.” You huffed, clutching your tunic against your chest.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
“It’s alright. What brings you on this side of town?” You hang up the tunic in your hand, turning to face him.
“Just… strolling through.” He shrugs, but he knew he couldn’t lie to you.
“Uh huh.” You grin, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I actually, uh, asked Greef where you lived.” He admitted, visor tilted down toward the dirt crunching underneath his boot as he scuffed his foot.
“Do I have an unknown bounty on my head?” You half joke, and Mando tilts his helmet.
“You do anything that could make you a bounty?” He retorts, and you laugh. Oh, how he liked that sound.
“I may be wanted for making the best pog soup in town,” You joke. “Wanna join me for some? It’s almost finished.”
“I can’t.” He shakes his head, and you give him a small, sad smile. You wish he would, but you respect him and his wishes.
“Sure. Would you like some to-go?” You ask, picking up the woven basket that previously contained your freshly washed clothes. You popped your hip out and held the basket to it, tilting your head at him questioningly.
“I don’t want to impose.”
“You’re not, Mando, I’m offering.” You softly chuckle in disbelief.
He wondered, for a second, how his real name would sound rolling off of your tongue. He bet it would sound like honey. Something sweet, something pure.
“Sure.” Was all he said, and you coaxed him to follow you into your home.
It was cozy and comfortable, walls decorated with artwork made my locals that they sold at the marketplace. The place was perfect for a small family, but since it was just you, you had more room than you knew what to do with.
You pulled out a container and ladled the soup into it, cautious not to burn the pads of your fingers. You packed the container nicely in a bag, handing it to Mando.
“Here you are.” You push the bag into his hands, and he looks down at it before presumably looking at you.
“Thank you, cyar’ika.” His voice is soft behind the modulator, his heart filling with that unfamiliar warmth once more.
“You have to let me know how it tastes. You know, once you try it.”
A small laugh is heard behind the modulator, and your heart swells at the sound.
“I will. I promise.”
Din went home that night, warming up the soup again after he put Grogu down for bed so he could eat in silence. He was used to it; it was comforting. But it also made his heart strings tug with the wish that he’d have someone to share a meal with. He was scared to join you for dinner, so he quickly said no. He was scared you’d turn around to try and look at his face; he was scared of you not liking what he had to say; he was scared you were going to find him mundane.
Even with all of the stories he had, he was afraid you wouldn’t find any of them interesting. He was terrified you wouldn’t be into him. So, he pushed and pushed and pushed himself away until he was so certain all of his feelings were detached from you.
But, when he took his first sip of your pog soup, he knew he was doomed. Maker, that was the best soup he’s ever had in his life. Usually, he’d scarf down his meals. It was a habit he was trying to unlearn. But with your soup, he savored the taste on his tongue and enjoyed each and every flavor it had to offer.
It easily became his favorite meal in the whole universe.
Weeks went by and you’d make him the soup, even when it was the peak of summer and sweat would glisten on your forehead. You did it for him, because he intrigued you, and you wanted to get to know him.
That opportunity finally came one night when he knocked on your door in the late hour. You were surprised to see him standing at your door with his son fast asleep in his arms.
“Hi.” You said softly, motioning for him to come in. He stepped inside, only allowing himself a few inches into your home.
“Sorry to come by so late,” He starts, “The water went out at my house, and, uh, I was wondering if I could borrow your shower.” He explained.
This was the first time you heard a more shy tone behind the modulator. It was sweet, and you could tell it must’ve taken him a lot of courage to even come here and ask you such a favor.
“Of course. Let me, um, get you a towel.” You walk over to the hall cabinet and take out a towel for him, going into the bathroom and hanging it neatly on the towel rack.
“Thank you.” You felt his visor linger on you for a little longer than you were used to. You looked down at your attire and finally noticed that you were wearing a sleep tunic that barely covered the top of your thighs. Your cheeks heated in embarrassment, and to shift the awkward ambience, you held out your hands.
“I can watch him while you shower.” You gesture to Grogu, and Din hands him to you carefully. The little creature coos, nuzzling into you as a tiny hand clings onto your tunic. You smile down at him as you settle down on the couch in your living room, rocking him softly.
“Thank you.” The Mandalorian says, turning swiftly to the bathroom.
He didn’t take long, and you tried to not let your mind wander to what he looked like underneath his helmet. You tried to guess his features deliberately, weighing the options of dark or light eyes, hair, skin, everything. You bet he was gorgeous underneath the beskar. It was a shame no one got to see him, but you respected him and his privacy.
You wonder how many people have seen him with his helmet off. If anyone’s ever gotten to touch his face. Oh, that man was probably so touch deprived. The thought made your heart sink a bit.
Your thoughts dissipated into thin air when the bathroom door opened, steam coming out of the room as he stepped out in his flight suit. The only piece of armor he had on was his helmet. You frowned softly in the darkness, thinking that must be insanely uncomfortable for his wet hair to be sticking to his helmet like that.
“Here,” You stood up, careful not to wake the baby. You gestured down to a basket that was empty, and motioned the Mandalorian to put his armor in there. You took a piece of armor for him and gently set it in the basket, and he followed suit with the rest of it. “I can wear a blindfold, Mando.” You told him. He looks at you, tilting his visor.
“I know other people can’t see you. I presume Grogu here already has, but, I can wear a blindfold so your hair can dry properly. That helmet must be awfully heavy.” You explain, and he thinks about it for a moment.
“Okay.” Was all he said, and you smile as you head into your bedroom and set Grogu down on your bed before rummaging through your clothes for a blindfold. You found one tucked away in a corner of a drawer, and you held it out to him.
“I’d feel more comfortable if you put it on. You know, so you don’t think I’m trying to get a peak at you or anything.” You smile softly at him, and Din’s heart clenches. You respected him and his creed, and he was so thankful of that. You drop the satin material in his bare hands, which you noticed were tan. That was just one piece of the puzzle that is this man before you.
You turn on your heel so you’re facing away from him, and he takes the material and wraps it gently around your head to cover your eyes. His fingers accidentally brushed your neck as he pulled back after tying the blindfold onto you.
Goosebumps raised onto your skin, and he noticed. Even in the dark and with the tint of his visor, he noticed. He felt it, too.
He wasn’t a man of many words. That was something you both knew. But in that moment, he wanted to tell you you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in the galaxy. He wanted to tell you everything there was to know and take you to every single planet that he think you’d like.
But, as always, he was at a loss for words. Too many thoughts and emotions trying to claw their way out of him, and he wouldn’t let it surface. He wouldn’t let himself fall for someone as beautiful and smart and kind as you. He just couldn’t.
You felt yourself being spun around as Din waved his hand over your face. “Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up?” He held up four, right in front of your face.
You shook your head. Everything was pitch black.
“Good.” Was all he said, before you heard a hissing sound of pressure being released.
“You can stay in here awhile and, I don’t know, talk if you’d like. If not I set out a blanket and pillow for you on the couch out there.” You pointed in the wrong direction of the living room, and Din’s lips curled up in the slightest.
“What would we talk about?” Din’s unmodulated voice rang through your ears, and you gasped. His voice was beautiful. Almost shy sounding, but deep and smooth.
You shrug your shoulders. “Whatever you want to talk about. I don’t get company, ever, so… it’s up to you. Or we can just go to bed and we don’t have to talk at all.”
“I can… tell you about some stories of my adventures across the galaxy.” He offers, and you grin toward the sound of his voice.
“I’d love that.”
And so he does. For the next couple of hours, you sit on your bed with your arms enveloping your knees to your chest as you listen to him talk about these intense days hunting a bounty, battling Moff Gideon, running into Jedi, the fact that he gave Grogu to Luke Skywalker, how he won the darksaber and gave it rightfully and respectfully to Lady Kryze, and how the Mandalorians retook their home planet.
He even went as far as telling you that he wasn’t originally born a Mandalorian, that they saved him after a droid killed his biological parents, which is why he absolutely despises the bots. Well, besides IG-11 and R5-D4.
You soaked in every single detail he chose to give you, finding himself loosening up over time while he talked to you. He found you very easy to talk to, and he could tell you were attentive as you followed along with his stories.
“I’ve never talked this much to anyone, ever.” Din chuckles, sighing softly.
“Really? I could listen to you go on for days. You’re an amazing story teller, Mando.” You smile softly, and his heart skips a beat.
He contemplated on telling you his real name, too. After all, you two’ve been acquainted long enough. He knew your first name so it was only fair that he told you his.
“It’s Din.” He says in a near whisper. He saw your brows thread together in confusion, so he elaborated.
“My name is Din.” He says, and he saw your body go rigid.
Your heart melted at the fact that he was willing to give up a part of his identity to you. That he trusted you enough to even tell you everything he’s said thus far, including his actual name.
“Din.” You repeat, and him hearing you say his name felt so right. Like it was a secret of yours to keep.
“Just… do me a favor, please. Don’t repeat my name to anybody, and only use it when it’s just us two together.” He gnawed on his bottom lip as anxiousness overtook his body. He was never vulnerable with people like this, and not having any of his armor on in a place that wasn’t his home furthered his anxiety.
You reached out in front of you, successfully finding his warm hand as you gave it a soft squeeze before pulling away. “Of course, Din. You have my word.”
After that night, you two seemed to get closer. People noticed and talked, but you didn’t really pay any mind. Neither did Din. There were many more nights of him coming over to your place to talk and eat delicious meals with you, which he finally allowed himself to do. You ate with your backs to each other as you talked about your days, another brief mission Din went on, and how Grogu is finally getting along with the kids of Nevarro City.
It wasn’t until the fall time that you realized you were starting to fall for the man in shining armor. It’s ironic, really. The one person you’d told yourself was off limits, you found thinking of nearly every minute of the day. The one that you were sure of just being strictly friends with.
You were falling in love, and you were falling hard.
There were some days you felt you couldn’t even face Din, because you genuinely feared total and complete rejection. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t have something to cover your face to hide your feelings or the soft sparkle in your eye every time you looked at him.
Whatever affections or strange feelings Din had for Omera a few years ago, he had for you much stronger. He found himself wanting to be the source of your beautiful smile and laugh. He wanted to be near you as much as he could, and the times that he couldn’t, he found himself spending every second thinking of you.
Some might say it was an unhealthy obsession at that point, but truthfully, you both were just lovestruck fools. You didn’t need to see Din’s face to know that he was a loyal, trustworthy, honorable man. He had a heart of gold that he only reserved for you and his son.
He never thought that with his old lifestyle he’d be able to settle down somewhere. Now that he’s here in Nevarro with his son, he wanted a family. Not that Grogu wasn’t his family, of course, but he wanted to settle down. Start some family roots here. Find a wife, have a (human) child, grow old with his family here.
He saw that life with you.
The times he thought about it in depth, he truly thought he might’ve actually been going crazy, but he didn’t care. He was so content with just him and Grogu in his cozy little home, but ever since he finally allowed himself to grow close to you, he feels as if the house isn’t a home without you in it.
Come winter time, those feelings from you both never dissipated. If anything, they grew stronger.
It was a busy day at the market one particular chilly day. Vendors were selling caf and pastries, which you gladly indulged in. You were looking at a new painting to buy for your house when you heard your name being called. You whirled around to come face-to- well, helmet, with Din.
You smiled up at him.
“Mando, you’re back!” You cheer, going to give him a hug, but you stopped short. You suddenly remembered you were in a very public place, where wandering eyes could clearly see you both.
Din felt your hesitation and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest plate. The metal was cold, sending a shiver down your spine. You relaxed in the familiar embrace (you two may’ve cuddled from time-to-time when he came over to talk with you), looking up at his visor.
“Wanted to surprise you at your house, but you weren’t there. Figured you’d be here instead.” He explained, and you grinned up at him.
“Was a short trip, hm?” You asked, walking with him through the market. He kept his hand loosely wrapped around your hip as you walked.
“I needed to go back to Mandalore for something.”
“What was it?” Curiosity overtook you, and he looked down at you.
“Not here, cyar’ika. Let’s go back to your house.”
You both made your way back to the warmth of your home, shucking off your three top layers so you were left in just a long sleeve and pants. You kicked off your boots before you made your way to the couch, sitting down as you waited for Din. He sat down next to you after checking to see Grogu was fast asleep in his pod.
“I went to Mandalore to ask the Armorer for something. Something I want you to have, something very significant and dear to me. But I want you to know this first,” He begins, leather-bound hands grabbing your own. “Cyar’ika, you’ve been nothing but a light in my life. I spend every day thinking of you and how much you mean to me and Grogu. You’re brilliant, kind, brave, beautiful, and so many more things that I couldn’t even begin to cover. You’ve made me fall in love with you the past near year that I’ve gotten the privilege to know you. You’ve got me, cyar’ika, and nothing would make me happier if you’d become my riduur, my wife, my partner for life.”
Tears are flowing out of your eyes now, and a happy sob escapes your throat. He untangles one of his hands from yours to take something out of a pocket he has, and he presents you a shiny necklace with Din and Grogu’s signet as the pendant. A Mudhorn.
Your free hand flies over your mouth as you cry, looking down at the beautiful necklace and back up to Din’s visor.
“Din.” You choke out a whisper, moving toward him to embrace him in a hug. He hugs you back tightly, resting his helmet against your forehead. You take both sides of his helmet and lean back, sniffling as you smile in pure adoration.
“I would love to join your clan, Din. Become your riduur. Be your wife. Partner for eternity. I love you.”
“Cyar’ika.” Din’s modulator barely caught onto his whisper. You two held each other like that for awhile, your sniffles finally dying down.
“You know, Mandalorians have an oath we follow our whole lives after we’ve been sworn into the creed,” Din starts, breaking the comfortable silence. He pulls back from you and brushes your hair out of your face. “Honor is life, for with no honor one may as well be dead. Loyalty is life, for without one's clan one has no purpose. Death is life, one should die as they have lived.”
“That’s beautiful, Din.” You whisper, hands moving back down to your lap. He takes off his gloves and grabs your hands into his once more.
“Mandalorians also don’t do wedding ceremonies. We just say a short vow together, and that’s it. Once we’re married, you get to see my face.” Your breath hitches in your throat, and your heart pounds rapidly.
You completely forgot about ever wanting to see him, let alone being allowed to see him. The thought of him showing his face to you made you both nervous. He was worried what you’d think, and you were happy you could finally put a face to the man you’re deeply in love with.
“So, we can just say the vows right now, and that’s it? We’re married?” He gives you a short nod, and you mirror his actions. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay. Let’s get married.” You smile at him, giving his hands a squeeze. He chuckles softly, wanting nothing more than to kiss you right in this very moment.
“Okay. We need to say them at the same time, so I’ll say them to you and then we’ll say them together,” He instructs, and you nod to signal you were ready.
“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde. Got it?” He asks gently, rubbing his thumbs over the top of your hands.
You nod with glossy eyes and a drumming heart.
“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” You both say synchronously, and a tear falls from your cheek once more.
“We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors,” Din says, unclasping the necklace so he can put it around your neck. “My riduur. I’ll love you forever.”
“I love you, Din.”
“Are you ready to see me now?” His voice wavers a bit, and you can tell he’s nervous.
You’re his wife and you’re part of his clan now and he wants to spend the rest of his life loving you so tenderly and sweetly as you deserve, and yet, the nerves coursing through his body at the thought of revealing himself to you are in full force.
“Whenever you’re ready, riduur.” Your voice is sweet and patient. Even if he wasn’t ready to show his face to you now, you’d be completely okay with it. You fell in love with him for his loyalty, honesty, kind heart, and protective nature.
Even so, he removed both of his hands from yours before moving them up to his helmet, taking a deep breath before slowly lifting the heap of beskar up and over his head. He set his helmet down on the ground, eyes moving back to your face.
You were in complete awe with what you saw before you. He was simply the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life. Tan skin, brown eyes you could easily get lost in, strong nose, pink lips, and some scruffy facial hair along his jaw with a mustache to match. His brown curls sat messily atop his head, and you just couldn’t stop staring.
Before he could speak out of nervousness, you moved both of your hands and held the sides of his face gently. He closed his eyes in pure bliss, never being touched by another like that in his life. His eyes slowly blinked back open to look at you, brow creasing as he waited for you to say something.
“Meshla,” You whispered, and he inhaled sharply. He had no idea where or how you learned a word of Mando’a, but hearing you speak the language of his people made his heart swell with absolute pride. “You’re so beautiful, Din.” You lightly trace the tips of your index finger over the curves of his face, resting your hand on his cheek once more.
You swept your thumb over his cheekbone, moving closer to him to press a kiss onto his forehead and his nose. You leaned your forehead against his and closed your eyes, rubbing your nose against his gently.
“I love you, my riduur.” He whispered, and you smiled as you leaned in a little more.
“I love you too, Din.” And finally, your lips connected. The kiss was soft and sweet, but passionate and full of promise and want and need.
Falling for and marrying the beautiful woman from the market in less than a year was not on Din’s agenda, for his fear of getting too intimate to someone overtook his whole being. But, stars, he was so glad he took that leap of faith.
And, maker above, was he ever so eternally grateful that the person he chose was you.
Someone who made him unafraid.
Someone who allowed him to get close.
Tumblr media
tag list: @cool-iguana ; @party-hearses ; @amanitacowboy ; @angel-in-beskar ; @pamasaur
289 notes · View notes
abbonation · 6 months
Text
Kinktober Day #9, Din Djarin
WOOOOOO!!!! The largely uninspired Abbo returns with a 2.3k cockwarming fic 😍😍 literally unheard of! Any whoosies, yeah. It's hot, it's explicit, what else do we want from Kinktober, anyway?
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY!!! Cockwarming, AFAB!Fem!Reader with little (Or a lot ;) of chub <3) the crest DIDN'T DIE,
He had tried to restrain himself, he really had, but when he watched your eyes as you lowered your robes down your shoulders and onto the cold floor of his ship, he knew this wouldn’t last long.
You’d traveled in the Crest with him while he was without Grogu and then became somewhat of a caretaker to him when he returned from training with Luke. You had seen the very near destruction of Crest on Tython and, now, you were all back together again; living and traveling through space on the never-ending journey that was his life. 
Through the nearly two years of close proximity, you had grown close. He knew your quirks and you had grown accustomed to his- and, despite his best efforts, he had developed rather intense feelings for you. Never acted upon, never spoken of but you had to know. By the way your look lingered on him both in and out of battle. By the way your head turned when he talked with others, it felt like you were two magnets hovering against the others’ pull, never close enough to click together.
Then, you encountered a beast that the local planet-dwellers later told you was called a Boma. He knew you shouldn’t have gone separately but he really needed some time to be alone and splitting up under the guise of catching your quarry faster would allow him time to do what he needed to keep his sanity. You agreed to meet back at the Crest before sundown and use the comms only when necessary to conserve their power- however, when he hadn’t heard from you and started to notice the darkening sky, he worried. 
“Hey- you okay? On your way to the Crest yet?” 
"—"
After a few moments of silence, he tries again, “Are you there? It’s gonna be really dark here really soon.” 
A shrill scratching sound chirps through the speaker on the comm and, instantly, he knows he needs to find you. When he does though, after racing back to the Crest and turning around to follow your trail instead of his, it’s been nearly an hour and he finds you walking towards him, pulling behind you a creature nearly the size of yourself.
He jogs over shouting, “What the hell happened to you?”
“Well, I guess I can tell you the whole tale. If you’ll carry this thing the rest of the way,” You smile and shrug up at him and he feels his stomach clench as he realizes just how anxious he’d been to find you, and how much better he feels now that you’re here.
-
“So it just ran up to your legs, smelled your cape, and started attacking?”
“That’s what I said, right?” You deadpan. 
“Why would it wait to attack you until it could smell you?” 
“Mando, I don’t know, can we just get some food and get back to the ship, my ankle fucking hurts from where I fell.”
In the small town is where you learned of the nature of these “Boma” . They were just your run of the mill beast, but apparently they had a real liking for eating Mandalorians. 
“Well, at least I know it wasn’t my stench that he didn’t like,” you joked to him over your dinner. 
“We’d better get back though, I’m… really tired.” You had this look in your eye though. One like you weren’t very tired at all. One like how you look right after battle.
So you thanked the bartender and made your way back to the Crest, confirming Grogu’s safety in his pram and fixing a couple glasses of Ne'tra gal for you and your Mando. He swallowed and tried to shove down the one thought in his brain since dinner. You smelled like him. 
“Thanks for trying to save me. Even if I didn’t need your help.” You hand over his glass and sit on a crate across from him in the hold. 
“I just didn’t hear you respond to my comm, I was worried,” He looks at the bottom of his cup. 
“Yeah well, this bad boy here had my back,” You lightly tap your thigh a couple times where your knife sheath lies and his eyes zero in on the spot as he moves up his helm slightly to sip. 
“I- know you can handle yourself. I just-” He trails off. 
“You just what?”
“.. I just want you to be- protected.. From everything.”
You smile gently at his visor and he can feel his cheeks heating at your stare. 
“You know that’s not possible, Din.” 
He wishes he could show you the power you hold over him. He has to look away from your eyes when you say his name. 
“Have I,” You swallow and steel yourself, “Have I ever shown you any of my scars, Mando?”
He looks up again, your face looks different now. You look more.. hungry?
The ale in your blood and food in your belly fuels your courage and you stand from your crate, walking over to stand in front of the Mandalorian. You place your hands on his shoulders and bend your knee up and place your foot on the ledge of the crate he sits on, inches from where his dick is imprinted into the fabric of his flight suit. 
He says your name and looks up at your face, “I- what are you-”
“Do you want to see, Din?”
He realizes then, you feel it too. He’s been so blind and his head swims at the confirmation of this.
“Yes, show me.. please,” He places a gloved hand at your ankle under the hem of your robe and begins moving it up your calf. 
You press on his shoulder to stop his hand and raise the hem of your robes up to right above your knee, down the skin right in front of his visor runs a jagged line of skin thicker than the rest. 
“This one I received when I killed a man who was trying to stop me from leaving his bed.” Din swallows and looks at your face, he’s speechless.
You move your hands to pull the hem higher and stop again, right above your knife sheath, so that the fabric is caught in the crux where your thigh meets your hip and is tucked under your belly. 
“These are from a cat on my home planet,” What looks like little claw marks blossom from the side of your thigh. He moves his thumb up to brush over them, and you smile at the memory of your friend from home. 
“And, Din,” You step down from the crate and stand between his open legs. He’s aching to touch you now. Running his palms up and down his thighs to avoid doing something he’d regret. You move your fingers up to the buttons at your neck that fasten the robe to your body and unbutton each one carefully, taking deep breaths, “These will be a different type of scar. Ones on the inside, ones I won’t soon forget.” You drop your robe to reveal your body to him, your underwear the only remaining coverage. Din sucks in an audible breath from the vocoder and stands from his spot. 
He chokes out your name, backing you over to the wall next to his sleeping quarters. “Do you know what you’re doing? Do you want this? If we do this, things will be different.”
“I know that- I want them to be,” You lean up to whisper into his ear. “You think I can’t hear you in your bed nearly every night. Rubbing yourself raw at the thought of me- of this?” You place your hand where his thighs join and he buckles, dropping his helmet down to your own shoulder and thrusting his hips into your palm. You reach your other hand from where it toys with the curls that peek out from under his helmet to cup his ass, pushing his hips forward into you. 
“Please,” He moans. 
You turn to his bed and pull yourself inside, moving backward into the dark space. “You liked that the creature smelled you on me, huh?” You chide him. He stands at the threshold as if deciding whether to make the leap. To change his life forever. 
“You wanted to come save me from it yourself so something would know I belong to you, right?” He leans forward into his room, hands resting on the top wall, tent in his pants more than obvious now. 
“Or were you just too busy jacking that cock in the forest to notice anything?” 
The choice is out of his hands now, he’s not acting of his own volition. He kicks off his boots and crawls in above you, quickly closing the door and locking you both into silent darkness. 
When he continues to say nothing even as you hear the ruffling of clothes and sheets as he arranges himself you whisper out, “Din?” 
From mere inches above you, you feel his breath fan down on your face and realize he’s removed his helmet, his hand moves over your belly, between the space where your breasts splay out and up to cup your throat. “Yes?”
You shudder at his unfiltered speech. “Do you- are you-” Suddenly you’re the one at a loss for words when he leans his forehead to rest on yours, and runs the hand that was holding you down your side to your thigh. 
“I did like that you smelled like me. I really liked it.” He punctuates his words with a thrust into your belly. 
“I want to lay you in this bed and fuck you every day so that you never stop smelling like me.” Another thrust. “Would you like that, sweet girl? Would you like to lay here and be my cock sleeve? Just for me to use whenever I want?” You’ve never heard someone speak to you like this, much less the ever-reserved Mandalorian, you’re shocked into silence by his tongue and he continues. 
He moves your legs to open for him and you reach down to stroke over his thighs where he kneels above you. He groans at your touch, “So sensitive, Din. C’mere.” He moves down to lay his lips on yours, he gets more comfortable the longer you lick and nip at each other, and he keens when you run your hands up over his scalp and give his hair a very light tug, 
“Oh, please, do that again, mesh’la,” You continue running your fingers through his hair and move to lick up the column up his throat. His noises are free-flowing now, heavy breathing floating through the air in his bunk. 
He lifts his head to make room between you and presses his crotch into your clothed pussy. You can feel your arousal making your underwear slick against your entrance, and clench to thrust up against his stiff dick. 
“Fuck, that's- that’s perfect, sweet girl.” He does it again, setting you into a rhythm of humping while he rubs over your tits, rubbing your nipples between his fingers when you show him that’s what you like. 
“Fuck Din, you feel so good,” You moan out to him and his hips stutter, “I’ll cum if we don’t stop, I- want you to feel good too-” So you slow your movements and move to push down your underwear, “Take off your pants Din, we’re gonna start slow, okay?” 
You maneuver to be on top and line his cock up at your puffy entrance. “Do you feel that, Din? How, mmm, how wet you’ve made me?” 
“Y-yes, I’m so hard for you,” He moans out. 
You rub your clit with his tip a few times and notch his head just inside “I don’t wanna come yet-” he huffs into your ear.
“You won’t, I’m gonna slip down and then we’re gonna get you used to me, okay?” 
A deep rumble leaves him when you start to slide down his thick length, stopping when your clit rubs into his pubic hair. “Jesus, Din- you’re.. fuckin’ big” You flutter around him unintentionally and he thrusts against you, holding onto your lush hips. 
You lay down over him and he roves his hands over your back, resting one against the back of your head and the other ghosting over your ass. 
“Can we just stay like this for a minute?” He asks.
“We can do this as long as you need,” You tell him, reveling in the way his pubic bone bumps against the hood of your clit. He stretches your walls deep, which you can’t say you didn’t expect- but to know you were right feels good. You sit up some when he pulls his feet up the cot, giving you room to lean back against the top of his thighs, and, with him still inside you ghost your fingers down over your breasts and belly to tease over your cunt. 
“Are you touching yourself?” Din questions. 
You clench at his voice, “Yes, Din. I’m– gonna rub my clit until I come around your cock and then you’re gonna come too, okay?” Your voice is much more high pitched and your usual level-headedness has obviously gone.
“Fuck, I wish I could see you, your tits bouncing in my face,” you feel his cock twitch inside you and rub two fingers around your clit, working up speed. 
“You wanna watch my face when I cum, huh, Din? Wanna see me give in to your pleasure?” 
“Ngh fuck yes, that's all I want, my sweet girl, my mesh’la.” He’s grasping at the sheets of his cot now, desperately thrusting up into your cunt. 
“Mm, fuck, are you ready?” You whine out as you feel your walls start to flutter from the stimulation, “Are you ready to come for me, sweet boy?” 
“Oh fuuuck, yes I’m gonna- I’m-” And he does. He pushes your hips down onto his cock to keep you still as he empties inside you, limply thrusting for another few seconds as you come down. 
You move to get off his cock and he holds you still again, so you opt to just lay back down on his chest resting your face next to his. 
“Can we just.. stay like this for a while?” You can hear the smile in his question. 
194 notes · View notes
hyperactively-me · 9 months
Text
sharing a bed
Tumblr media
He turns his head at your suggestion, clearly thinking of it.  “Or I could leave” you mumble, leaning on the side of the wall. He’s still on the ground next to his bag diverting his gaze from your form.  “Mando, I can just find a different place to stay–” “No.”
just wanted to ask you guys to please read this
(asks are open)
happy reading
warnings: none
“So…” you draw out, unsure of what to make of the situation.
Mando lets out an awkward cough, readjusting the heavy bag hanging over his shoulder. 
The single bed stands out in the room like a bantha on Hoth, imposing on the comfortable, distant relationship between you and him. 
He steps further into the room and drops the bag on the floor of the room. He looks back at you with his ever-stoic expression, unmoving. 
Suddenly, he bends down to the floor, fumbling with the zipper on the bag. You watch as he slides it open with ease, large hands digging through the bag, rummaging around for something. You’re sure that he was only going through his bag because of the awkwardness of the situation, to divert from the topic. 
“I’ll take the floor” he grunts out, voice strained. You gulp quietly, still standing at the threshold of the door. 
“Uh, no. Mando…I don’t think that's going to be comfortable at all” you watch as he turns his head to you, an unreadable expression dons his demeanor. He continues to stare at you, silence permeating the air. 
“Why don’t we share it, it's obviously big enough for the both of us” you suggest casually, not wanting to instigate tension in the already tense atmosphere. He stiffens at the thought, hands abruptly halting from their movement. 
Well this is just great! You’ve made him uncomfortable, way to go! you think to yourself, internally beating yourself up over your words. 
“Unless it's the helmet…” you stumble out, timidly stepping through the threshold and into the small bedroom. “I can cover my eyes somehow” you twist your hands together, unsure of what to say.
He turns his head at your suggestion, clearly thinking of it. 
“Or I could leave” you mumble, leaning on the side of the wall. He’s still on the ground next to his bag diverting his gaze from your form. 
“Mando, I can just find a different place to stay–”
“No.”
You stand there, gawking at him. His sudden, forceful tone shakes you to your core, his authoritative nature coming out in full force. Your face reddens a bit from this singular word, your brain racking through all of his meanings and insinuations. 
“No, I mean…” 
He clenches his hands together, his leather gloves creaking from his actions. He stands up abruptly, a small sigh crackling through the modulator of his helmet. You push the door behind you closed and lean on it gently, waiting for his response. He watches you carefully, studying your movement. He slowly walks up to you, bringing his hands up to his belt. The broadness of his shoulders eclipses your vision. You gulp nervously, awkwardly standing in front of him. 
“I- ‘m fine with it” he draws out, fidgeting with the belt loops around his fingers. 
“All right then” you say matter of factly, brushing past him quickly, averting your face from his view. 
You kick off your shoes and shed your jacket, tossing it carelessly on top of Mando’s bag. You pull back the covers of the bed and plop down onto the mattress with a sigh. Mando slowly moves his way towards the bed, shedding his own armor and boots, methodically and thoughtfully. He concentrates on the way he handles his chestplate, gently placing it down near his bag. He does the same for his shoulder plates and leg armor, again placing it quietly next to his chestplate. You lay back slightly, watching him as he strips down to only his underclothes, a soft black shirt and dark pants. 
“About the helmet…I have a cloth for your eyes–” he articulates, jumbled by the premise of the situation. 
“Oh, of course, I’m sorry–”
“No, it's not your fault–”
“Really, I could just, if you’re uncomfortable with removing the helmet I could–”
“No” he presses out once more, his voice assertive and strained. “Just, put this on. Please” he nearly begs, internally crumbling from the awkwardness of the situation. 
He holds out the dark cloth in his now bare hand. His hand is calloused, skin a tanned, golden honey. Your hand brushes his as you take it, skin brushing against skin. You meticulously tie the dark fabric around your eyes, blocking the world out from vision, plunging into darkness. You lean back fully in the bed, your legs straight as a pin under the covers. 
You hear the hiss of his helmet disengaging, a sound you’ve only heard once or twice before. Your breathing speeds up, afraid of breaching his trust by somehow messing up, even with the blindfold on. The helmet sounds heavy and hollow as he sets it down. The mattress dips underneath you as he climbs into the bed, his breathing shallow. You hear him gulp, his muscles tensing under the sheets. Keeping your eyes open becomes a battle of its own, and you succumb to slumber as you hear the steady breathing of Mando beside you.
When you open your eyes, you feel something heavy draped over your back. As you stumble into consciousness, you remember the night before, Mando reluctantly climbing into bed with you. Your breathing picks up, shaking any ounce of sleepiness from your mind. As you begin to sit up, his arm shifts around your torso, pulling you towards him and into his side. 
“Mando” you hiss out, face reddening at his unconscious actions. 
“Mando, wake up” you say louder this time, feeling extremely uncomfortable in this position. His grip on you tightens slightly, your face smushed into his side. 
You hear him groan out in acknowledgement, stuck between the state of dreamland and consciousness. His hands flex, a sharp inhale escapes his unmodulated lips. You begin to struggle under his arms, thinking of all the accusations he could make up, thinking of the awkwardness to follow from this night, thinking he might just leave you behind at some outpost after this whale incident. All of a sudden, he shoots straight up, shoving you away from him with a strong force. 
You’re nearly thrown off the side of the bed, a small shriek escaping your lips at the unanticipated action. You grip onto the sheets, holding yourself steady near what you presume is the edge of the bed. The blindfold only heightens your anxiety, the darkness providing no insight on what he was doing in the moment. You hear his breathing begin to even out, your own breath slowing down from the past few moments. 
“Are you okay?” he huffs out, his voice so very clearly unmodulated, and it sounds wonderful. 
You stutter out “Uh, yeah,” gulping at his words. 
You hear the sound of his helmet engaging, a hiss emitting from the machinery. Your heart sinks a little, yearning for the sound of his voice to grace your ears for just a little longer. 
“I’m sorry– You can take off the blindfold now” he stutters out, floundering around his words.
“Oh” you say stupidly, lifting your hands up to remove the cloth. Your eyes adjust to the bright light of the room, and you see Mando lifting himself out of the bed. You watch him as he hurriedly puts his armor on, rushing to fasten the clasps around his shoulders. He yanks his gloves on then picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. You’re still sitting in the bed, a vacant expression hanging over your face as you watch him. 
He looks over his shoulder and mutters out a quick “I’ll be ready outside when you’re ready” before throwing open the door and walking straight out of the room. 
“...Okay then” you say, pushing yourself off the bed, a shade of red painting your face. 
- - - - - 
You lay in bed, eyes drooping, drowsy from sleepiness. You turn onto your back, stretching your legs and arms, a soft groan eliciting from your lips. Your eyes open a bit wider as a figure enters your vision. 
Din. 
A smile erupts from your face and you stretch your arms out towards him as he stalks over to the edge of the bed. You look up to him, your eyes raking over his form quickly. He’s wearing a soft black shirt with matching pants, and a small smile paints his face. The mattress dips under his weight as he gently climbs into the bed.. He crawls into your open arms, laying partially on top of you. You clasp your arms around his torso, drawing a contented sigh out from Din. 
You bring one hand up to his hair, raking your fingers through his dark, curly locks, slowly and methodically. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath spanning your skin. 
“You’re so soft” Din groans out from your neck, his hands tightening around your torso. 
A warm feeling washes over you, your cheeks slightly blushing from the low timbre of his voice. His stubble scratches the skin between your neck and shoulder, tickling your skin. You bring your hands down to his face and lift his head up gently, forcing him to stare straight at you. His eyes are lidded, chin now resting on the soft skin of your stomach. 
“Hi” you whisper.
“Hi” he whispers back, a lop-sided smile on his face. 
A soft look washes over his face, and he drags himself up to lean in closer to your face.
“Can I kiss you?” he mutters, eyes darting back and forth between your lips and your eyes. You blush, a smile creeping up on you. He’s only a few inches away from your face, you can see every lineament and wrinkle of his skin, the gruff stubble on his face, his wiry mustache, his deep, dark, beautiful, brown eyes. He smells like sandalwood and greenery, the scent peppery and strong. 
You lean in, closing the small gap between you two. You press your lips to his, inhaling at the contact. Your hands come up around his shoulders, tugging on him, trying to pull him up your body. His stubble scratches your chin in the finest way, his lips are so soft. Din draws his body farther up yours, pushing you deeper into the bed, the mattress pressing down on both sides of your form. He bites your lip, slowly pulling away as he breaks contact. 
It’s like he’s floating above you, the dim light haloing his hair. You’re both breathing hard, flustered from the intimacy of the kiss. Suddenly, he grabs onto you and flips you over, a small gasp erupting from your lips. You’re on top of him, well partly on top of him, and he’s looking at you like you’re everything to him. His eyes widen and your heart flutters, a full blown grin displayed on his face. You put your hands on his shoulders, steadying your position on top of him. You smile back at him, snuggling into his chest. A deep inhale slips away your lips, taking in his scent. 
“Hard to believe you’re a big, scary, bounty hunter when you’re so cuddly like this” you beam, staring at nothing in particular. 
He lets out a raspy chuckle, hands coming up to rest on your back. 
“Yeah, hard to believe” he huffs out, rubbing your back slowly. 
You sigh, content, allowing the atmosphere of peace and tranquility, softness and love, to consume you. 
367 notes · View notes