#fennec shand x f!reader

[saradika]

— the knight and her lady

knight!fennec shand x princess!reader

rated E - 3.7k

prompts - “can I kiss you?” & fairytale au

tags: medieval/fairytale au, soft sapphic romance, use of weapons in a competition, power dynamic (princess & knight), forbidden love, soft!dom Fen & inexperienced reader, kissing, fingering, implied squirting, oral sex

written for @flightlessangelwings’s Pride Challenge!

You shouldn’t know how to take her apart. It’s not proper, not at your station. If anyone found out, rumors would spread like wildfire. You’d surely be sent home - separated from her.

But your fingers move easily - plucking at buckles and straps. Piece by piece, as fluidly as she had put you together this morning.

(Or - You steal away to your knight, to celebrate a spectacularly-won archery tournament.)

You supposed you should be paying more attention to your host - but you can’t tear your eyes away from the knight in front of you.

The sun glinting off her forge-blackened armor, her movements still fluid even with the extra weight of the steel. Joining the long row of competitions, an ornate longbow slung across her back.

It’s been a long day. A good day - the tournament bringing in visitors for miles. Filling the wooden seats and air with laughter and music. With roasting meat and summery, fruity mead.

But still, you watch.

Fingers clasped, pressed on a knee that bounces with anticipation.

You don’t think he minds. The singularity of your attention, content to sit in near-silence next to you. A month ago you would’ve been ashamed at yourself - ignoring the King like this - but at the moment, you can’t bring yourself to care.

If he had minded, you think that he wouldn’t have taken the flower you had clutched so tightly to your chest. Plucked from the woven crown of greenery and flora around your head, handmade for today.

Telling you he’d “get this where it needed to go” in those few moments before the first event began.

It’s the last event of the afternoon, now - the morning filled with rounds of jousting, the clash of hand-to-hand combat.

You had worried she’d entered both - had felt the butterflies in your stomach when the quiet, silver knight she was seen with so often with took to the field.

But he had been alone. And had been victorious, in the end. A flurry of black slashes with his sword had seen to that.

Part of you wondered if she had attended, if that still would have been true.

The shrill sound of a whistle cuts through the air, as the participants line up. The wave of a green and gold banner as the first arrows fly.

There's the loosening of strings - arrowing flying in arcs towards the target mounds, with their painted red centers. Several falling short, the feathers quivering in the wind, most piercing through cloth and earth within the neat rings.

Scores called out as competitors are eliminated, the judges marking notes down on their scrolls. Those removed make their way to the border, to call out and heckle their friends with the rest of the crowd.

Ser Shand remains for this round, and then the next.

You watch with bated breath as her fingers crook around the string as each round passes. Thinking about last night and the ones before.

A slow, building boldness of wandering mouth and fingers. Stroking over silk and steel, soft sounds swallowed by the night.

Each release sends an arrow flying neatly down the field, landing in the red middle circle again and again. Again and again, until there were only two competitors left on the field.

The suspense was palpable, that teasing chatter dwindling down to nothing. The fabled ‘assassin-turned-knight’ competing with the up-and-coming Lord Calican - this would-be duel that would be spoken about for weeks after.

You had utmost faith in your knight, but you couldn't help the worry as the wind rustled your skirts, tugged at your crown of flowers. Fingers reaching up to pull it down a little tighter, just as the flag waves again.

The crowd holds their breath.

They fire at the same time.

There's an uproar, as the arrows hit. The judges racing to look, Lord Calican turning on Ser Shand. A pointing finger at the mounds, down at her feet. Even from here you can see the arch of her brow, rising in disbelief.

You don't even notice the way your hand drifted down, curling in the soft green velvet of the King's sleeve. Only when his gloved hand comes down to pat against yours, do you realize - letting go quickly and sheepishly.

The small smile he sends your way is kind. As is his answer, as he replies to the advisor next to him - asking if he should step in.

"My knight is not so easily bested." The King boasts, with a dismissive wave of his hand, "Here, just watch."

You can just make out the argument. It's clear that her arrow flew straight and true, hitting dead center. His off, just a hair lower on his own target.

Rounding on her to claim that she had taken a step closer while firing - had been out of bounds.

There's a knowing and condescending smile, as he turns red in the face with argumentative anger. Leaving him mid-rant to move a handful of meters back. Close to the edge of the field, before she stops.

Turning - taking barely a second to fit an arrow, aim, and fire.

It flies down the field in silence.

Striking where her first had landed, splintering it down the middle.

The crowd explodes. Shouting and cheering as they all decide the winner on their own. Your voice joins theirs as you find yourself leaping to your feet, leaning against the tall rail in front of you.

Excitement and joy and something else, something honey-sweet swirls in your stomach. Your heart thudding in your chest as you see her turn - finding your eyes in the crowd.

The small smile and wink sent your way.

Striking her target, one last time.

You sneak into the tents, after.

Scattered across the open field, gathered around small campfires. It would be easier to travel back the mile or so into the city, but it was a long-held tradition to stay on the grounds the night before a tournament.

Easier to group up, to celebrate. Less mess to clean when playful song and teasing turned into drunken brawls between sore-losing, mead-filled competitors.

Lifting the crimson flap of the tent emblazoned with her symbol. Large for its size - a nest of pillows and a bedroll tucked off to the side, upon the thick carpet of grass. A wide bench on the far wall, one edge littered with fletching supplies. Two chairs and a sturdy table standing on a coarsely-woven rug.

She's there - still clad in that dark armor. Plucking the archery gloves from her fingers in a way that has your eyes dropping down to her hands again. Watching as they appear from behind the leather, as you hover just inside.

Lingering, until her eyes are lifting. A smile coming then, a flash of pretty teeth between the curve of her lips.

You go to her, letting the flap fall behind you. The tent well-light in the afternoon sun, filtering in pretty shades of red and gold.

“You were incredible.” You tell her, almost shyly. The way you had been watching had felt almost vouyeristic, but maybe that was just the winding of your thoughts, the slow sweep of your eyes.

“I could not lose, with your favor.” Fennec’s fingers work at her armor. Loosening her chestplate enough to dip inside, draw out the rose from where it nestled between her breasts.

Plucked so carefully from your woven crown, the color tipping from pink towards purple. It spins between her fingertips, the hidden meaning not at all lost on her.

“You know…” Her head tilts, then - with the sly curl of a smile, “In some tournaments, the victor is awarded a prize.”

It still stuns you, even though she gives them to you freely.

But you’re familiar with the customs. A favor bestowed, a bag of coin awarded.

“What would you ask for?” You question with a little furrow of your brow - taking those few steps, until you’re reaching the edge of the rug.

“Perhaps a kiss from a fair maiden?” She taps her chin thoughtfully, though her eyes never leave your face. Asking it like a question, though you’re sure she’s been planning this.

Sending up a flutter in your stomach, your heart kicking up a beat.

“Is that all you desire?” You own question comes out breathless, as she steps closer.

Her smile is enigmatic - her rose set down carefully on the table. Your tongue peeking out to wet your lips, eyes dropping to the pretty curve of hers.

Your eyes start to drift shut, the anticipation curling sweetly in your stomach.

But it doesn’t come - the press of her lips. The swipe of a tongue. Instead, there’s the pressure of her fingers ghosting against your hips, her voice in your ear.

“Mm. I didn’t say where, sweetness.”

Her voice is low, throaty. It sends a little shiver up your spine, as her innuendo sinks in. It had your eyes opening, surprise lingering in the pretty part of your lips.

“Your face,” She laughs, but not unkindly. “You are too sweet, little bird.”

Her touch lifts then, fingers catching your chin and tilting it towards her face.

Lips pressing against your cheek, feather-light. Then your jaw, the soft spot under your ear as you melt against her.

“Can I kiss you, princess?” She husks, “Would you let me take what is mine?”

In your head, you answer. An eager affirmative that comes out as a soft whine, instead. Another low, rasping laugh before her mouth is pressing to yours, finally giving you what you need.

Your fingers clench around steel, the heavy leather of her belt. She swallows your sigh, a soft curl of her lips in a hidden smile before she’s tasting you, licking into your mouth.

There had been shock, before - you won’t deny that. Heat rising to your cheeks at her words, so very public.

She loved your sweetness, the arch of your brows, the little intake of air. So very different than the rough and tumble of the other knights and soldiers.

But it didn’t mean you didn’t know. That you didn’t want.

A little fire that you’ve kindled in your belly, all day. The spark starting as she snuck up from the field to find you that morning - fingers brushing over your waist, the curves of your breasts as she helped you lace up the back of your dress.

“Such a pretty thing,” She had cooed, smoothing down the layers of fabric, the spray of stars embroidered across your skirts.

You had thought she meant the dress - until you caught her gaze in the mirror you were facing.

It was a pretty sight - her arms around you. You were sure your thoughts had reflected hers, in that moment.

How easy it would be to slip a hand beneath your skirts - to loosen the laces of your chemise. A thrill has thrummed in your veins, until a knock had sounded at the heavy wooden door.

Mourning the proximity, as she had stepped away.

It makes you want to take her little tease, twist it into something tangible. Pulling back from the warm press of her mouth to murmur a question against her neck.

“Can I kiss you, too?” Your lips brush her neck, that sliver of skin above the cold iron of her gorget.

You can feel the hum of her laugh, as her chin tips up to give you more room, “I’d say you are, princess.”

The way she sighs the title makes you not despise it. No simpering in her tone, nothing to remind you of your duties and promises that you want nothing more than to break.

It has your mouth moving. Pressing kisses to her armor, leaving the ghost of your breath against the cold, dark iron.

A hitch in her breath as you begin to lower yourself, reaching the curve were the metal is shaped at her chest. Gathering your skirts in one hand as you reach the bottom of her cuirass.

Her fingers are twisted in the fabric at your shoulders - eyes dark when you glance up. Unable to resist the pull of you on your knees for her, out in this field, stolen away in her tent.

A second, as she blinks - coming back to herself.

“Your dress, little bird-” She protests, knowing how much you had been looking forward to wearing it.

It feels like nothing now. Not even wrinkles or the threat of dirt could sway you.

Your face tips up as the want reflects in your own eyes, “Please. I want to. I’ve thought about it, I-”

You’ve dreamed about it. Tasting her more than just the slip of your fingers against your tongue. Not doing so before because she’s never asked, and you’ve been too shy to.

Wondering if it would be something she’d want - not knowing how to navigate this path with someone who’s bound to you in such a way that made desire and duty so confusing.

Your words are enough. A sharp exhale of breath as she takes a step backwards, the spread of her thighs as she lowers herself to that wooden bench.

It takes no time for you to fit between them. A small glance over your shoulder to make sure the tent flap is closed, before your fingers are slipping beneath her armor.

“I’ll keep watch, sweetness.” She husks, leaning back to let you work, “Don’t you worry.”

You shouldn’t know how to take her apart. It’s not proper, not at your station. If anyone found out, rumors would spread like wildfire. You’d surely be sent home - separated from her.

But your fingers move easily - plucking at buckles and straps. Piece by piece, as fluidly as she had put you together this morning.

Revealing the dyed linen of her surcoat - black and edged with red embroidery. Her cuirass set gently against the edge of the bench as her hips raise enough that you can tug down her trousers, letting them pool around her ankles.

She’s unashamed, thighs parted for you. Hands brace on the bench - watching you as your eyes drift down to where only your fingers have been, in the dark.

Thrilled at the way she glistens, that you did that yourself. Nerves and desire twisting and fluttering in your stomach like the fletching on the arrows, before.

Trying to thinking about when she’s kissed you, like this. How every touch and brush of her tongue brought pleasure you had never known. Thinking that you could do that, that you wanted to - for her.

She murmurs your name as you move. A soft kiss to her center, letting your tongue peek between your lips. Dragging against her slit, tasting the sweet tang of her cunt, unable to help groaning into her as your hand comes to wrap around her calf.

Getting more bold, with each of her shaky breaths. Listening and learning each little sound, determined to do well for her.

Finding the hard, sensitive bud beneath the dark curls - feeling the pinch of her fingers against your shoulder when your tongue flattens against it.

An eager shift forward, pressing yourself further against her. Eyes closing when a moan buzzes in her throat, hands brushing your cheeks, the hinge of your jaw. Closing around the crown, bruising the petals with the force of her fingers.

“Stars, sweet girl,” She sighs, a gentle buck of her hips as she urges you, “Look at you, on your knees. You look so pretty, you know that?”

It shoots through you, as you clench around nothing. Unable to help squirming as your fingers trace along her thigh, up and then up.

A look up when she’s silent, only to see the clench of her jaw as she holds her sounds back. Trying to keep quiet, in this open field.

Then you hear it, muffled behind a hand, as your finger sink in. This part you know - eyes closing again as your fingers crook and curl.

Her thighs closing sharply around your shoulders when your lips return to her, a soft suck against her clit.

Tightening around you as her hips start to move, as she tugs you against her. Unable to help the panting, groaning praise.

“Right there, gods - just like that. Yes, my love, yes-”

Your eyes open just in time to watch her fall apart. Tongue pressed against the pulse of her clit as she grips your fingers, coating them with her release.

A moan pulled from her throat, high before she catches it. Her chest heaving as your fingers ease from her when she relaxes, slipping into your mouth before your tongue dips inside her.

Tasting the salty musk of your triumph, thinking you understand in this moment the way she enjoys having you beneath her.

Knowing that you’ll never want to stop, now that you’ve had a taste.

Blinking up at her as she smiles, a small shake of her head.

“Just look at you, pretty girl.”

Her thumb swipes over the slick that’s smeared across your lips, your chin. Pressing it against your bottom lip until they part - cleaning her from her fingers.

Disheveled and eyes blown wide with lust, tasting like her as she stands - swiftly tugging up her trousers before her hand is tucking under your elbow.

Pulling you to your feet as you frown, before she’s whisking you over to her bedroll. Kissing you, her tongue delving into your mouth as she lowers you down onto the pile of pillows.

“Can’t wait to touch you, sweetness.” Her voice is syrupy smooth, low in your ear, “You get so wet from me looking just at you. I bet you are soaked from eating my cunt.”

It makes you tremble, a heat rising in your cheeks at her crude words. A little laugh as she does just like you had dreamed about before.

A hand tucks behind your head as she kisses you. Stroking your tongue as her fingers work at your bodice. Breaking the kiss, only to wrap her lips around a tight nipple, flicking her tongue against it.

Your moan is loud, wanton. Unable to hold yourself back, as she had. She shoot you a look of warning, shushes you before kissing across your chest.

Grateful for her touches, as your desire thuds between your thighs. Completely eclipsing that feeling from before, making it feel no more than a flutter.

Unable to compare to the way you need her, now.

There’s a sweet satisfaction that slices through you, when she dips beneath your smallclothes. The moan into your shoulder as she hovers over you, when she realizes just how right she was.

How the soft cotton is soaked through. How her fingers meet slick skin beneath, no resistance as she immediately sinks two fingers inside.

You gasp at the stretch, teeth biting down on a whine. Unable to see anything other than the bare curves of your breaths, your skirts piled high.

But she leans down to look, a soft purr to her voice, “Oh princess. My needy little thing.”

Telling you how pretty you look with her fingers in you, as her thumb presses against your clit. Your eyes fixed on the teeth that sink into her lip, as she tugs down the cotton to bare you fully.

Watching the shine of her fingers as they pump into you. You’d be embarrassed at how wet you are, how swiftly she builds you up and up, if you hadn’t been waiting for her touch for so long.

A soft cry when her mouth returns to your breasts, the ache as she makes a mark that will be hidden by your bodice. Something just for her - later, before she’s tasting herself on your tongue again.

Swallowing your gasps as you squirm, her fingers pounding and crooking against a place that steals your breath. Pinning you down with a thigh that straddles yours.

Her own soft growls as she sees you start to come undone - the glazed look in your eyes. Remembering how sweet and eager you were for her - wanting to return that feeling a million times over.

“Want to make you come, princess.” Her mouth is against your ear, as your hands fist in her surcoat, “Let me feel you, sweet thing.”

Fennec’s elbow presses into the bedroll as she leans over you. Her fingers keeping their pace as your vision grows hazy. Your senses filled with her and only her, as she presses kiss after kiss to your trembling lips.

Humming low in her throat as your fingers pinch harder into the cloth. A tiny, wrung-out gasp of her name, as something builds and builds - pushing you past a point you didn’t know you had.

And then, it snaps. Pleasure and relief pounds in your veins, the thud of your heart drowning out the sounds of your cries as she catches them with her mouth.

Her fingers unrelenting, dripping with you as she fucks you through the tight pulses of pleasure. Her palm slapping against slick skin as she draws it out, until your fingers untwine. Reaching down to catch her hand, unable to take it any longer.

Thoroughly worn out, overcome with your pleasure. Unable to do more than press a hand against your face as she leans over to look at the mess you made.

Another soft groan at her cat-like smile - fingers tracing against your damp thighs as she revels in this new discovery.

“Gods. I can’t wait to watch you do that again tonight.”

Kissing away your embarrassment, with soft encouragement peppered between each press of her lips. How it slowly fades as she wraps herself up with you, curled together on her bedroll.

Grateful for the way she had pulled your skirts up and out of the way - always looking out for you. Watching over you as you doze, the red and gold speckles of sunlight warm against your face.

It’s easy to forget then, about your worries. Wondering how this story between you would end. How this love that had blossomed between you could ever fully flourish in the sun.

Instead, it’s just a glorious day. An evening to bask in, and celebrate.

Staying sleepy and content until her name is called, and she’s throwing you a look - quickly helping you lace your bodice up. Smoothing down her own clothes while she steps outside.

Coming back with her arms laden with gifts - a sack of gold, a basket of fresh fruit. A heavy bottle of spotchka, tucked under her arm.

“My winnings,” She smiles, with a happy lilt to her voice, “And here I thought I’d already had them.”

You know that right now, your smile mirrors hers.

As she leans down to kiss you, once again.

purple roses can symbolize love at first sight! it can also mean adoration and fascination with someone (& used the term ser in a very ‘ser brienne of tarth’ sort of way)

and lastly - thank you Jey, for hosting this challenge! Such an awesome idea, I was excited for the chance to contribute a fic. 💖

#fawpride2023 #fennec shand x reader #fennec shand x you #fennec shand x f!reader #fennec shand

[flightlessangelwings]

Kinktober Day 18- Bondage

Fennec Shand x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count- 1.2k

Warnings- smut (18+ only), dom/sub, restraints, crops, edging, overstim, established relationship, safe signals are in place

Notes- I’ve actually had this idea in my WIPs forever so I’m happy I finally got to write it! I may even expand on this and make it longer and add more to it too if there’s interest! List provided by the lovely @the-purity-pen​!

To say up to date on when I post, follow my update blog too and turn on post notifications @flightlessangelwings-updates​​. Reblogs highly appreciated!

~

“I hope you’ve been a good girl for me.”

“I have,” your voice was breathy as you obediently replied.

Fennec narrowed her eyes at your figure, “We’ll see,” she purred.

She stood before you, still fully clothed, while you laid spread out on the bed. Your hands were tied to each of the posts, leaving you completely open and exposed for Fennec. And you knew there was no escape; she was a master at tying people down. Still, you strained under her piercing gaze as you tried to wriggle free. It was all part of the game.

In her hands she held a crop, and she cracked it in her hands to get your attention. At the sound, you stopped and stilled yourself. You looked up at her with wide eyes and baited breath. The anticipation was eating you alive as you laid there, bound and helpless. A small whimper escaped your lips as you waited for her next move.

Fennec’s gaze held an inferno of passions, and the blaze only burned more when her eyes landed on your dripping cunt. For the briefest moment, her facade faltered and you saw how much she held herself back with you like this.

“You know the rules,” her tone was low as she positioned herself at the foot of the bed, right between your spread legs.

You nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

“And you have your signal if you need to stop.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She smirked, “Good girl.”

Suddenly, Fennec used the crop in her land and landed a hard slap on your pussy with it. You threw your head back onto the bed and screamed as tears filled your eyes. She watched your reaction with titillation as your breasts rose and fell with your heavy breaths.

“Thank you ma’am,” you panted.

Fennec grinned at you as she watched you regain your composure. She knew the trust it took for you to do this, and she didn’t take it for granted. But, she also was so turned on just by the sight of you tied up that she wasn’t sure how much longer her composure would last. So, before she lost it, Fennec snapped the crop against your pussy again, even harder this time. 

Again, you screamed in ecstasy before you breathed a soft, “Thank you, ma’am.”

Fennec slid the tip of the crop along your folds, teasing you with it as you whined and bucked your hips as much as you could. Your eyes fluttered shut, but she allowed it. She rubbed the leather end of the crop against your clit and her breath caught in her throat when you moaned loudly at the feeling. Your arms and legs strained against your restraints as you squirmed under her expert touch.

As much as Fennec wanted to toy with you more, she reached a point where she couldn’t restrain herself anymore. Between how tempting you looked when you were helpless like that and the sounds you made, something within Fennec broke.

She tossed the crop aside and slid off her gloves before she knelled on the bed between your legs. You gasped when you felt the bed dip and your eyes shot open to meet her gaze. Without a word, Fennec ghosted her bare fingers along your inner thighs, and you squealed as she tickled you.

Still tied to the bedposts, you couldn’t move very far save for rolling a bit. You let out a mix of a moan and a laugh as Fennec’s hands made their way to your core. When she reached her destination, she cupped your pussy and clenched her jaw when she felt how wet you were. Before she could help herself, Fennec landed a slap on your cunt with her bare hand, and she clenched her thighs together at the beautiful sound you let out.

“Thank you, ma’am,” you whispered as you strained in your binds.

Fennec let out a short laugh, “You have been a good girl,” she purred before she dove two fingers into your pussy.

You screamed at the sudden intrusion, but you swam in the pleasure that it brought you. For a moment, you forgot you were tied down and tried to wrap yourself around Fennec, but you couldn’t move more than an inch or two. Being bound and helpless for her brought you even more pleasure and you cried out even louder as she pumped her fingers in and out of you.

“Does that feel good, love?” she purred as she added a third finger and thrust even harder.

“Yes… ma’am…” you found it more difficult to find your words the more she worked you.

“Good,” Fennec’s tone dropped as she rubbed your clit with her thumb and leaned forward so that she hovered over you, “Now, keep being my good girl and cum for me,” she thrust her fingers once, “Can you do that?”

“Y-yes,” you sighed, “Please… Make me cum… I want to cum.”

“I know you do,” Fennec groaned as she felt your inner muscles clench around her.

You wriggled in your restraints as she pumped her fingers harder and faster, hitting every spot that made you scream. Fennec watched with a hungry gaze as you fell apart for her while still bound. You felt like her binds were the only thing keeping you together as your body and mind swam in bliss. 

“Oh fuck… Fuck… I’m gonna cum…”

Fennec only thrust her fingers harder, determined to watch you as you lost yourself in your release. And it didn’t take much longer for her to get what she wanted. Just as Fennec hit that sweet spot inside you, you let out a loud scream and trembled in your bounds as your orgasm crashed through you.

Wave after wave of pleasure hit you as you strained against the binds that held you down. Every muscle in your body tensed before letting go. Tears filled your eyes as you rode out your climax on Fennec’s fingers until you had nothing left to give. 

Or so you thought.

She didn’t let up, and Fennec took advantage of your restraints to keep going even after your orgasm. You looked up at her with wide, teary eyes, but she didn’t stop. Her fingers continued to pump in and out of you and your mouth dropped open to let out another loud moan as another climax quickly snuck up on you.

You dropped your head back down as you came again, this time gushing into her hand. You screamed her name as you tugged at your binds while your second orgasm ripped through your body.

Once Fennec decided you had enough, she gave you mercy and slowed down her thrusts before gently pulling her fingers out of you. She moaned when she saw how much they glistened from your juices and when she looked past her fingers at you, the sight took her breath away.

You looked a mess, but, still bound, you looked so beautiful and delicious. Fennec whispered your anime and watched for you to open your eyes and meet hers before she made a show of licking her fingers clean of your juices. You couldn’t help but moan as you suddenly wanted more, even after you came twice in a row.

She, of course, noticed, “You want more already, darling?” Fennec asked in a teasing tone.

You swallowed hard as you tugged at your restraints, “Yes ma’am,” your voice was hushed and shy, yet the lust was still palpable.

Fennec smirked, “Good,” she leaned forward and hovered her lips over yours. She gave you one short, taunt of a kiss before she murmured, “Because I’m not done with you yet…”

#fennec shand x reader #fennec shand x you #fennec shand #fennec shand imagine #fennec shand x y/n #fennec shand x f!reader #fennec shand fic #fennec shand fanfic #fennec shand fanfiction #ming na wen #star wars fanfiction #star wars fic #star wars imagine #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the book of boba fett fic #the book of boba fett fanfic #tbobf fanfiction #tbobf fanfic

[oonajaeadira]

LOSING MY RELIGION: CHAPTER 13: THE EXCHANGE

Rating: Mature for series, lighter for this chapter.

Pairing: Post Season 2 Din Djarin x force sensitive reader (fem, post-Order 66 Jedi). Soft, slow burn on both sides, internal struggles and feels. Alternating POV.

Warnings: A little bit of angst, culture shock/differences, Din pushing authority a bit, jealousy, and a whole lot of private feelings burning hot in a public place. A/N: If you’re still reading, thank you so much for your patience. I had to do a little soul searching and make the decision to let Din and Little Bird follow the path that the story calls for. It took me a while to let canon go, but this chapter hit me very unexpectedly. There are beats in this story that weren’t there when I first mapped it out and surprised the hell out of me when I realized where it was leading. The road ahead is a little twisty for Din and LB, but the story always goes where it needs to, when it needs to.

Senaar’ika = Little bird.

There’s more Mando’a spoken, but the translation is eventually given in the storytelling.

Summary: You and Din broker a very important exchange.

TAGLIST: you can always request to be on the taglist for this or any of my work. If you’d like to be on taglists for upcoming fic, please sign up at my MASTERLIST

←-Previous Chapter 12: The Camp

________________

PART 1: DIN DJARIN

Your helmet stands out among the others down below and Din tracks your path through the Tusken camp from his perch on an outcropping of a cliff face above. You’re not going to like this, but it’s the best solution he’s got.

“We’re on a mission here to acquire some resources and take someone into custody,” he explains to his comrade. “The negotiations aren’t something I can hurry along. How much time can you give us.”

Fennec sits with one knee popped up and stares into the distance out over the dunes, her eyes squinting more in calculation than from the bright suns on the sand. She’s a warrior he’s come to respect–a renegade turned team-player--even beyond her capabilities that could land her easily among the best of Mandalorian soldiers and make her a queen among bounty hunters, she’s evolved beyond her need for the Empire. Her ready repayment for a life saved, her loyalty to Boba Fett–and, by extension, himself–is noble in a way he can truly admire. “I can hail at first light tomorrow.”

“The whole day? That’s generous.”

With a half chuckle, the ex-assassin absently tosses away a stone she’s been rolling between her fingers, letting it clack over the clifftop. “What can I say? One of my many qualities.”

Even as his mind works, Din’s absent focus stays on you in the shadow of the rock face, sitting with the child he assumes is the force-sensitive. For some reason, he thought the child would be smaller, but he looks to be halfway to adulthood by his height. Definitely not gonna fit on the speeder with both of you. “The mechanic. Peli Motto. She’s unharmed?”

“Fine for now. They’re keeping her under lockdown but they’re not torturing her.”

“Good,” he huffs with a sardonic laugh. If Peli has guards set on her, then they’re the ones who are probably begging for release right about now. Tapping a few buttons on his vambrace and checking his nav for coordinates and distances, he calculates the time it will take to pack up, get to the drop off, and arrive at the Palace. Of course there will be a pit stop to refuel the speeder, get in a midday meal, exchange pleasantries, ask for favors….

“This would be a whole lot easier if she’d come out to us.”

“Wouldn’t it though. No dice, Mando. Boss hailed back–Bo won’t open herself up to attack. Insists on meeting at the Palace.” Her black eyes glitter behind the open slice of her helmet. “If you want to get in some target practice, we could stash your partner and the quarry somewhere in town and take down the garrison, grab the ship and go. Avoid her completely. Could be fun.”

“It’s only dragging this scenario out. She’s not going to let this go. She’ll just follow us somewhere else; somewhere I don’t have options.”

“I suppose the boss wouldn’t like me disobeying an order either. Ah well,” she sighs back onto her elbows, “buys your friend a little vacation, hm?”

Dank farrik. You’re not going to like this.

To be honest, he doesn’t either.

“You didn’t catch the name of her companion? And it’s not Koska?”

Laying back onto the sun-warmed rock and closing her eyes as her head lands in the cradle of her hands, Fennec hums in thought. “No, it sounds like Koska might be leading the garrison at the docking bay. The Mando that came with Bo Katan definitely isn’t her.”

“Hmm. First light then. I appreciate your help.”

Stretching out like a cat, content to take in the morning suns after a cold evening in the desert, Fennec has nowhere to go and nothing to do as long as Din isn’t following her back to the Palace. “Patience is a virtue. Bo Katan can use the lesson.”

________________

PART 2: YOU

“That’s good, Uli-ah. Now can you do both stones at once? Try to swap their positions.”

Taking refuge in the shadows by the cliff face and sitting in the sand across from the Tusken foundling, you watch as two pieces of desert shale lift from their positions by the boy’s knees, come together in the air and bump only a little awkwardly before passing at nose level. One of them drops and breaks while the other makes its way to its new spot.

It’s hard.

“Yes, it is, and you almost did it. That’s actually very very good. You must practice often.”

No. I’m not allowed. It frightens the mothers. I make things dance for the other kids sometimes if the mothers can’t see.

“You keep bringing up ‘the mothers.’ Is one of them yours?”

They all are.

“The children are raised by the clan.”

Drawing his knees up and under his chin, Uli-ah hugs himself in tight, burying his face, becoming a little desert-colored ball. It’s not that he goes silent as much as he shows you ideas, images, emotions, everything you need to understand that he is not assigned to one family like the other children are. Uli-ah does not answer to one set of parents or any one mother or father in particular. He is protected by everyone but advocated for by nobody. He learns as part of a group, but is never given wisdom as passed down from parent to child.

He is alone in a crowd.

It’s a wonder that the child hasn’t grown to be dispondend or wild, surprising that he’s quiet and respectful. But it isn’t that he’s neglected or uncared for. Din’s words from the night before begin to stir. The Tuskens aren’t like Mandalorians. He’ll never be paired and never asked to join the fire. He will never truly be one of them.

“How old are you, Uli-ah? How long have you lived among the clan?”

He doesn’t lift his head, his fingers only dig into the cloth of his leg coverings.

Five years I think. There have been five water cycles.

Only five? This tall, gangly, capable child? The answer slams into you and before you can control your surprise it rebounds on him, his hands balling up in fists as yet another adult finds him strange and unusual.

“Hey, hey, hey, friend,” reaching over to his shaking shoulder and laying a warm hand upon it, “it’s okay. That’s a good answer. You’ve learned so much in your young life, I’m only surprised you’re not a little older. You’re very smart and talented for your age.”

The touch, your tone, your praise causes him to bring his head slowly up, his helmet shielding his expression, but his sinking shoulders telling you all you need to know.

“I know some other younglings like you, with abilities like yours. They go to a school for people like us. I could take you to them if that’s what you’d like. But you’d have to leave your home behind. Everything will be new. It’s a long way from here.”

I don’t know what a school is.

“It’s a place where you learn. A training place where someone teaches you how to master your skills. Would you like that?”

Stillness. You can sense a little turmoil, all his thoughts tumbling around without a good tried-and-true way to organize them. This is why the Jedi used to take them as babies; it’s a lot to ask any child. Too young in their development and they’re bonded to their family. Old enough to make the decision and it may be too late to hone their abilities. Five though. Five is so young for such a big decision.

I...would like that. Except….

Uli-ah’s helmet spans slowly, taking in the camp, the sands, the wavering heat at the horizon…

Is it…hotter there? It’s so hot here. Sometimes I can’t breathe.

Is that what he’s worried about? “It’s warm there, but there’s water. Green things. Trees. I suppose you’ve never seen trees. They’re hard to explain–”

I remember trees.

Something about this violently shifts your heart. To be so young and still have fleeting memories of a different place, perhaps a home he once knew….and you find yourself putting your arms around the young force-sensitive, taking no offense to the fact that he does not have any experience of how to embrace you back. ________________

“Well? What did you find out, Captain?”

The midday Tusken meal is taken in the privacy of their tents and that means bringing two bowls of black melon gruel back to your campsite. Din’s made a makeshift lean-to out of your blankets and the speeder–a place to have a little shelter from the high suns and to remove your helmets for the meal–and you hand the bowls off under a flap so that you can crouch and crawl through to the snug space, taking a seat knee to knee with him in the cooler patch of shaded desert.

The surprise is that his helmet already rests in the sand by his hip. His jaw is set, his eye determined. He holds the bowls patiently, waiting as you remove your own bucket.

Something tells you you’re not going to like what he has to say.

“Bo Katan Kryze is here on Tatooine. She’s holed up in the local tradelord’s palace with some of her followers and she has others posted at our docking bay with the Crest in custody.”

“Peli–” you start, but he shakes his head, handing your bowl over.

“She’s okay. They’re just not letting her leave the terminal.”

Suddenly, you couldn’t be less hungry. “Why is Kryze here? For you?”

“Mmyeah,” he says, smacking his lips and squinting after a sip of the bitter broth. “Technically, she’s probably here for the Darksaber. Been tracking us for a while.”

“I thought you told her you weren’t going to fight her.”

“I’m not. But I have to go. She’s causing trouble until I get there. I’m not going to inconvenience my friends over this. I’ve got to go and deal with it.”

There a quick spike of bitterness in your gut from something other than the melon gruel. But you don’t need to feel anything from him to sense his irritation as a valley forms between his eyebrows and he downs more of the broth.

Joining him in your silent meal, watching him as he keeps his eyes on the bowl, you know him too well. There’s something he’s not telling you; it’s best to just keep sipping until he gains the courage. It takes longer than you expect and it’s not until he puts down the empty bowl that he meets your eyes. “You’re not coming with me.”

“What? You’re just going to leave me here? Din, the Darksaber–”

“No,” is what he says, but what he means is Quiet. Let me speak. “The kid you’re talking to. Tell me what’s happening there first.”

Damn. You can sense your Mandalorian is begging you with his whole being to cooperate, and the last thing you want is a fight. “You’re right. He’ll never be one of them. They’ve adopted him into their numbers but not into a family. He’s got an astounding amount of ability and talent for his age...and that’s another thing. He says he’s only five.”

“What?” Shock washes over him in a mirror of your own. “Huh. So. Not human then.”

“No. Being so tall, I thought maybe Kaminoan, but too many fingers. Maybe Weequay. Possibly Wookiee, but I can’t imagine living under all that covering and fur besides. Although he did say it was too hot here…” Stay on topic. “He’s open to going to Luke’s school.”

He sighs. His eyes close and squeeze. The news is expected, but not favored.

“That means we’re back on the clock,” he grumbles as he locks his gaze to yours again. “So it’s my job to make sure you’re both safe. I’m not leaving you here with the Tuskens and I’m not bringing the kid into a palace crawling with power hungry Mandalorians. We’re taking a detour to a mining settlement. I have a friend there. Maybe he can give you two a place to stay for a night or more.”

“Din, why–”

“Speeder won’t carry us all, so Fennec’s gonna help us out. We head out at first light. I’ve already spoken to the elders about that pearl–”

“Wait. You need me with you. That saber–”

“Senaar’ika.” Din doesn’t speak Mando’a often. His whisper stills your tongue. “I’ve spoken to the elders about the pearl. They have an imperfect one they’re prepared to trade if you’re willing to build a saber for them.” When you blink incredulously he explains, “I showed them the Darksaber and what it can do. They can use it for cutting. For defense. It makes glass from the sand and lights fires. It would be a valuable tool for them. I know…” he swallows, “I know it’s an insult to your order. To make a lightsaber for…base reasons…”

It’s risky, putting such a powerful weapon in the hands of those not trained to use it. They could badly harm someone. Or wield it to embolden an attack on innocents. But perhaps you could temper it, shorten the blade, make sure it can’t be used to cause too much harm….

“I’ll do it.” It’s a rough trade, but it will do. And you’re glad to see that he nods, relieved, quick to take up your offer. “Depending on the size of the pearl, a shard of it could power many lightsabers. And I’m happy to make something that’s useful to them.”

“Good. Then while you’re doing that, I’ll negotiate for the child.” He holds up a hand when you open your mouth to protest. “I know. But the women of this clan don’t have final say and you’re not allowed to talk with the men. Trust me. I know what they need to hear.”

If the burn in your cheeks didn’t signal frustration as he takes the lead away from you, then your frown most certainly does. But he’s right. He’s right about everything. Except…

“I don’t want you to leave me behind in the mining settlement. I know you can wield that saber, Din, but my being with you will boost your power with it. It feeds so highly on your emotions. Having someone you love nearby can only help…”

“I understand,” he says, softly. He’s already replacing his helmet, readying himself to go retrieve the pearl so you can get to work. “But you don’t have to be standing next to me to be the one thing I can’t stop thinking about, Little Bird.”

And he slips out of the makeshift shelter, leaving you with cold broth and a pounding heart. ________________

The pearl is about the size of Din’s fist, definitely from a young krayt, and it takes you a little time to figure out how to fracture it without wasting any. Your own lightsaber is up to the task to hew a sliver of it away and you’re able to ascertain that even this small portion holds enough force energy to power a short blade. It will be more unstable than your own kyber, but less mercurial than the Darksaber; a fine beginner’s blade if not a tad loud.

The new utility saber is a good tool, sturdy, powerful. You’re adjusting the final resonance when Din rounds the speeder bike. He’s been gone a good part of the day and the suns sit on his shoulders, winking off his armor, causing you to squint up at him even through your visor to ask, “Well? How’d it go?”

Settling into one hip, his hands come up to rest on his belt and he juts the chin of his helmet at the weapon in your hand. “You got enough to make another one?”

“That’s their offer?”

“That’s their offer.”

Now it’s your turn to sigh as you lock in the final calibrations, your neck and shoulders aching from working half the afternoon on a blanket in the baking sands. “Yeah. More than enough parts. Time though, that’s another issue. I just,” one last twist of the mico-spanner, a click as the final panel fits into place, you toss the finished hilt to him, “I can’t believe that a little boy is worth the same amount to them as a dragon’s gut rock.”

Din catches the piece, ignites the blade, turns it, twists it through the air to hear its low feral howling, then hits the power switch, dimming its vibrating emerald light. “Well, not even as much. Pearl cost us one of these and the rest of our water.” When you make a face he adds, “We should be fine until we reach Mos Pelgo. We can get more there.”

“The water’s not the detail I’m unhappy about.”

Taking a quiet assessment of the mess in front of you–the scattered scrap metal and bits of pearl, the wires and tools and sand, always so much sand–the realization that you’ll have to start all over again and work into the evening is suddenly exhausting.

Even if he's not a force-user, you can see that Din picks up on this and you close your eyes as he moves around and takes a seat on the blanket behind you. After removing your pauldrons, his gloved fingers work into your shoulders and neck, deliciously limbering you, stretching out all the constriction, smoothing down all the coils. Even if it is more military restoration than it is gentle relaxation, it’s what he knows, his way of giving care.

A water bladder lands in your lap. “You haven’t been drinking.”

He’s right. And you take a long draw as his hands pull and prod your muscles, untangling the mess you’ve made of them, letting him heal you and do his bit to protect you from as much hurt as he can.

It isn’t the touch you truly long for–his gloves and your flight suit keep his fingertips from gliding over your skin, your helmets prevent his lips from kissing the back of your neck, beskar and leather cover the chest you so badly would like to sink back into. The way he has twisted your fingers in his own, or dragged his nose behind your ear, or leveraged your thigh with one of his own… It seems a sin that you are being given the gift of his touch and his care and yet, greedy and selfish, you would wish for more.

But perhaps you’re not the only selfish one here. His hands finally flatten out, firm kneading becomes gentle soothing, palms eventually sliding down to cradle your elbows as the ting of his helmet meets the back of your own, and you feel the broad frame behind you slowly fill with air and expel it in a fashion that, had it carried sound, may have been a soft whine.

How gracefully your hearts dance together. How far you’ve both traveled to meet here in this place.

“You should take a break; get up and move around.” Flaying himself from you, Din stands and holds out a gentle hand, beckoning. “Come on. I’d like to meet the kid.”

________________

Uli-ah works with a few of the other children, almost completely swallowed in bantha fur as they hold up one of the beast’s feet while a herder inspects it. Once that foot has been deemed healthy, the children race to the next foot, jostling and braying laughter as they vie for space to help pick up the next paw while the bantha merely shifts its weight and chews its cud.

Din sits by your side in the hot sand, waiting quietly while the children and the herder finish their task, and then Uli-ah runs your way, ending in a skid on his knees as he comes to a stop almost in your lap.

The elders say I’m going away with you.

“That’s right. We will be leaving at first light tomorrow. Are you ready for an adventure?”

The child bounces on his knees, braying his own kind of laughter, not quite Tusken, but certainly not human.

“I guess that’s a yes,” you laugh, then point to Din. “This is our Captain. He’ll be with us. He flies the ship and protects us.”

The bouncing stops then, and Uli-ah makes a half move, as if he’s going to hide from the Mandalorian behind you, except that Din’s hands cut through the air as he speaks.

“I’ll make sure. You’re safe.”

There’s a slow, renewed interest from Uli-ah as he realizes that he can communicate with this stranger and he raises his own hands into gesture.

You can speak with your hands.

Din chuckles, signs back. “Yes. I’ve talked with your people. For a long time.”

There’s a wave of relief that comes over the boy, some kind of calm knowledge that “his people” are changing, that you and Din will be his people soon.

Then his hands clap and flutter excitedly–

I’m going to go to school!!!!

–before he tosses himself backward onto the sand in a moment of youthful glee.

You don’t know what lifts your heart more, this display of joy, or the sound of Din’s quiet laughter–light and welcoming and calm–coming through the comm.

In the morning every mother in the clan will touch the child’s head as they pass by him in a line. All the men will gather in a group and shout a message of farewell before turning back to their herd. But on the back of the speeder, it is you that Uli-ah will hold tightly. And even before that, it is Din who will help him get situated on the seat, check him over to make sure he’s secure, pat him kindly on the back, and tell him there’s nothing to fear.

Your Mandalorian’s come to understand that there are some who can see through the beskar to the good man underneath. And you can see he’s starting to believe it himself.

Some beliefs, it seems, can take a long time to crack. But belief can also nourish a man in the desert and show a warrior that his milder moments can house another form of strength.

Ahsoka really did choose well for you. And the Darksaber chose well for itself.

________________

It’s taking all of your concentration to keep the speeder bike at a steady velocity as you whip through the canyon. What you wouldn’t do for a cup of caf.

The second saber build had gone smoother than the first since you had duplicates of many of the same pieces and were able to put something together more easily, but you’d still worked past twilight and then there was packing up the speeder and joining the group for evening meal….

After that, you’d lain awake, curled into Din, listening to his shallow breathing, trying to come up with a valid argument for going with him, each excuse a play more desperate than the one before it. You actually entertained the thought of removing the kyber from the Darksaber while he slept--your most clever plan yet. Except for the fact that the weapon was entirely sealed and getting into it would cause more damage than your honor would let you make.

He’s the Mand’alor. The High Leader. Whether he likes it or not, if he won’t fight or let anyone best him, then he must take up the mantle. If the Mandalorians are gathering, he can’t fail to steer their ship. There’s so much he has to learn about the weapon. Also so much he has to learn about asking for assistance. You think there has to be someone who can tell him this, make him understand how much his level head and moral compass and loyalty to his people are needed. Someone who can teach him to wield the instrument of his leadership….

But your hour of denial is over. Because there is someone.

It’s you.

But who are you to him? You are not his advisor. Not a member of his sect. Not even his…for lack of a better word…queen….

“Used the wrong word. Called you my queen instead of woman. I tried to correct myself and they asked me who you ruled over.”

“Ah. And you said, ‘just me.’”

“Yep.’”

“What did I say about burning out the repulsors, Little Bird?” Din’s voice cuts through your thoughts into your earpiece, bringing your focus back to the task at hand, and you ease off on the throttle so Fennec’s speeder can catch up to yours.

From the moment the suns broke the horizon, Uli-ah has been attached to you–literally refusing to loosen his clutch of your flight suit–the realization sinking in that he’s leaving behind everything he’s ever known and keeping close to the best constant he has. So it only made sense that he’d ride with you, and Din would pair with Fennec.

She’s an intimidating one, Fennec Shand. Din mentioned that she’d been an assassin for hire in the Imperial days, that he’s never known anyone who can beat her skill or match her tenacity. And you believe him; she has eyes like a lothcat and a body like a loaded pulse rifle, always watching, seemingly always ready to strike. But there’s a sparkle to her too, an allure that draws you in like bait for the snare.

He’s known her longer than you. The bond between them is strong. A bond between friends, between warriors. You can sense his high regard for her. He’s holding onto her waist so nonchalantly…

Well this is a new feeling. You shake it off and find a constructive distraction.

“How are you doing back there, padawan?”

This is fun! It goes so fast! What’s a padawan?

“It’s an old word. It means you are in training to be a master of the powers you have. The old word for those powers was ‘force,’ and they called the masters Jedi.”

You are Jedi?

“Well. Something like that.” Leaning the speeder around a curve in the canyon, you similarly bend the subject. “You’re going to join other kids like you. I can’t wait for you to meet Shiari and Grogu. They’re gonna be so happy to have a new friend.”

It would be easy to miss it over the whine of the speeder bike–a soft sigh. You keep forgetting that the comm is open. And any mention of Grogu is always bittersweet for Din.

He misses the little one so much. It’s evident that he’s happy that Grogu’s safe and learning, that he’s where things are best for him. But it still twists your heart. Din went from being alone to being a father at hyper warp–taking to it like a Gungan to water–and something about that makes you smile.

Grogu’s ability to charm the mighty warrior. Din’s sleeping heart opening for him, blooming like a hundred-year codaflower in Grogu’s warm spring. Except for the danger of his lifestyle, Din makes a good father. Any kid would be lucky to have him. Even beyond your feelings for him, his devotion makes it an honor to be serving the mission with him.

“Little Bird.”

Oops. “Sorry. Just wanna get there, I guess,” your excuse is accompanied  by the return to a manageable speed. Again.

“We’ll be hitting Mos Pelgo soon. Don’t tear up the town on your way in.”

“Telling me what not to do only tests my willful streak, Your Highness.”

“I’m aware.” There’s a low warning in his voice, but also a smirk. “I’m willing to make it an order if that’s the motivation you need.”

Slowly swiveling your visor in his direction, you watch as he does the same to you. A playful tease.

“You. Wouldn’t. Dare.”

And without turning away, you punch the throttle, defiantly taking the lead, Uli-ah roaring in excitement behind you even as he holds on for dear life. ________________

Mos Pelgo is a quiet settlement, barely big enough to be called anything other than an outpost. Moisture farms flicker in and out of the distance through the waves of heat in a constellation surrounding a one-street center, a short line of earthen structures topped in domes and rods, connected by a boardwalk lifted off the dusty path. The few dust-coated people out and about stop and stare as you coast by, involuntarily shrinking back away from the path. Not that you can blame them. They seem peaceful and it’s not surprising that they might be startled by a band of armored strangers coming in, a Tusken in their mix. Din mentioned that the townsfolk might be wary of Tuskens, but assured that his friend Cobb would vouch for the kid.

What he didn’t tell you is that once they saw his armor, they would lift their hands in a friendly wave. It seems they know him here.

Pulling up outside a cantina, the four of you peel yourselves from your seats with varying degrees of stretching and sighing, your spine aching to be upright and your feet thankful for a chance to be on solid ground. Din and Fennec head up the stairs and you start to follow, but there’s a tug at your elbow.

Is this the school?

“Not yet. We have to travel a long long way, but the Captain has to do a job first and he can’t protect us for the next couple of days. We’re going to stay here with a friend where it’s safe.”

If a Tusken mask can look baleful, Uli-ah achieves it with a long, slow look up and down the settlement path.

“Hey. I promised you a school and you’re going to get one. We might not get there for a while, but you’ll be with me the whole way and guess what.”

You’ll teach me?

“You bet I will. I told you you were smart. You wanna go inside and see if our new friend is there?”

Yes.

Steps are a new concept and Uli-ah takes a cautious step up, and up again, bringing one foot up to meet the other before continuing onto the next. At the top, he considers the short flight of two whole stairs, then steps back down and down. Then he takes the steps one at a time, up and down. Once he runs up a third time you catch him around the shoulders before he can give it another go and give him a playful jostle, guiding him inside as he squeezes his fists in victorious joy.

After the glare of the desert, it’s comparatively dark in the cantina, so you instinctively pull off your helmet.

This is your first mistake.

And sets off a chain of events.

Uli-ah, not accustomed to your helmetless face, stops behind you in the entryway.

Mother, you’re–

He shrieks.

It’s unsafe, mother!

Before you can course correct–calm him or apologize for shifting culture so quickly or even take the time to correct his default of name for you–the Weequay behind the counter reacts fiercely to the the child, pointing and shouting–

“Out! We don’t want trouble here! We have a pact! Out!”

“No, wait–” Din turns sharply to the barkeep, but the damage has been done and the child bolts awkwardly from the cantina out into the light, smashing his shoulder against the port frame as he goes and wailing his way down the boardwalk.

You make a quick gesture to Din as you follow–it’s okay, I’ll get him–and leave your Mandalorian to locating his friend.

By the time you get eyes on him, Uli-ah’s a couple of buildings away–poor boy must be so confused right now–when a tall, old man steps out from one of them, seemingly summoned by the commotion, and the two collide, the boy falling off the boardwalk into the dust, then trying to scramble backward, all heels and palms and elbows.

The man’s good natured, going after the boy and trying to help him up, but it only scares him more. “Whoa there. Hey. Hey there, kid, it’s alright. I’m not tryin’ to hurt you.” Once he gets the boy up and starts dusting him off, Uli-ah struggles to break free, but the man easily holds him, kneeling down to the kid’s level to keep from being a threat. “Hey hey hey. It’s okay. You lost son? Where’s your tribe?”

“I’m so sorry. He’s under my care.” As you converge with them and take Uli-ah’s hand, the child turns and slams into you, hiding his face in your side, holding on with shaking hands. “It’s okay, padawan. Nothing’s gonna happen to you if you stick with me, okay?”

Your second mistake was assuming the man is elderly on account of his grey hair and beard, but when you hold a hand out to help him up, you’re greeted by lively dark eyes and a particularly wry and charming grin. Oh yes, he takes your hand, but puts no weight on it as he stands, only holds it firmly, a handshake that is warm but…unending.

“Ma’am,” he says respectfully, but with a rather rakish sparkle to it, and you catch sight of the stripes on his belt. A Republic Ranger. A welcome sight out here for you, but might cause problems for Din. “You and your friend are new faces around here. I’m the marshal. How can I assist you?”

“I’m, ah, I’m,” stars, that’s some smile. ”I’m here with my partner and his associate. We’re looking for a friend of his. There was a misunderstanding at the cantina and my charge here got a little scared.”

“Well, let’s go see if we can sort this out. If I might escort you…” Instead of releasing your hand, he draws it smoothly under and around his forearm, and in your shock–a little bemused, a little offended–your final mistake is allowing it. And so in this manner, you arrive back at the Cantina, arm in arm with the marshal, pulling Uli-ah along by the hand.

“There he is,” the Weequay nods to your trio as two helmets turn.

“Heard there was a misunderstanding in here with this pretty lady and the young one, is that the way of things, Weequay?”

“Yes, Marshal, my misunderstanding. Won’t happen again.”

The marshal, nodding, turns his attention to Din and Fennec. “Welcome back, Mando. These two belong to you?”

Ah. So you’ve run into the man Din was looking for. All should be well, but something feels off. Din stands still, squared to the three of you, feet in a wide, stable stance. His answer is taking a long time to come. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was in confrontation mode, as if he was going to have to make a tactical move at any second. It’s easy to assume for a moment that perhaps these two aren’t as friendly as you were led to believe.

But the assumption and the tension break as the Mandalorian steps forward to the marshal, each clasping the others’ forearm in a brotherly handshake, “Vanth” and “Mando” exchanged with nods, and a bonus smile on Cobb’s part. Friends indeed then.

Stretching out with your feelings though, there’s an anomaly rolling around in Din, something faintly protective. Something that’s bitten off by his terse, “Yes. These two are mine.”

When the marshal drops your hand and swaggers loose and lanky over to a nearby table, it’s only then that Din’s muscles relax, that he shifts slowly to one hip, that his hand leaves off the habitual hover near his blaster and hooks itself into his belt.

It’s all you can do not to gape.

You’ve never seen Din jealous before.

But that seems to be melting swiftly as he takes a seat by his friend. Cobb Vanth orders a full round from the proprietor, and leans forward over the table, grinning a whole galaxy full of teeth in the mirror of Din’s visor and declares, “Sure would like to know what skugbunny you followed to find yourself all the way out here again.”

________________

Fennec stands in the light, her svelte figure like a knife stuck in the sand, finding less commotion outside where she can send a communique to her boss. You can hardly blame her; Cobb is a loud talker and Uli-ah has found distraction in a pair of sabacc dice which he throws over and over, clattering across the table as he plays a game he’s making up on the spot, cheating against himself every once in a while with a subtle force push of a die, although you’re the only one who notices.

After his economical explanation to Cobb, Din passes his glass to you, something he does often now in public places, allowing you to drink what he cannot. “What I’m looking for is shelter for my partner and her charge here. Refills on supplies. Fuel. I’m willing to pay.”

“So what’s the favor then?” The marshal squints, taking a swig of his spotchka.

“I want no harm to come to these two,” Din says, tilting his helmet in your direction. “I’m bound to protect them, but I need to go take care of something. Should be back within a day.”

“So you’re looking for a security detail,” he says, finishing the cup. “You got it. No problem. I’ll look after them personally.” A cheeky wink punctuates the offer.

That odd twinge rises in Din again, like smoke from a too hot fire, and you lay a hand on his knee under the table. “Uli-ah and I won’t cause you any trouble, marshal. This seems like a peaceful place you keep here. We should be able to manage alright.”

Cobb misinterprets your polite decline of babysitting as an act of humble courtesy. “It’s no trouble at all, ma’am. We don’t have any public lodgings here in Freetown, but I’ve got a room. It’s yours. Nowhere safer.”

There’s nothing to say that wouldn’t seem rude.

“That’s…very generous. The boy and I are grateful for a place to stay.”

“Right then,” Cobb slaps his hand on the table, using it to push him up off his chair. “I’ll go scare up some water reserves for your journey.”

There’s silence at the table when he leaves, broken only by the rattle of dice on its surface as Uli-ah tries over and over again to break his top score. Din stares off after the marshal, but hesitates to follow. Something’s on his mind.

You wager a guess.

“Din. We’ll be okay. There’s nothing to be jealous of.”

“I’m not…jealous.”

You squeeze his knee. “This could all be avoided if you let us come with you–”

“No.” He finally draws in a long breath, exhales, and turns the visor to you. “I want you safe. You’ll stay here. That’s an order.”

“An…order?”

“We’re on the job and I call the shots when it comes to your safety.”

“Yes, but–”

There’s movement outside at the speeders, a woody thud and scrape as a water camtono is deposited and then picked up from the boardwalk.

He doesn’t let you finish, standing and holding out a hand to help you up. “I’ve got to get the supplies packed in.”

Something’s turned off in him. The courtesy’s there, but he’s doing his best to control his emotions....

To hide them from you.

“Come on, Uli-ah. We’ll see the Captain off and then we’re going to stay with Marshal Vanth for a couple of days, okay?” By the time you tear the youngling away from his new toys, the corner of Din’s cape is disappearing out the door.

Kriff. This is bad. Something’s wrong and he can’t leave like this. He can’t take this uncertainty with him.

Taking a seat on a crate while they prep Fennec’s speeder, you just stay out of the way and observe. Cobb chatters cheerfully at the assassin, bringing out supplies from the storehouse, exchanging old tarps for new, handing over a fuel hose. But Din keeps out of the conversation, silently busies himself with a last minute tune up of the vehicle.

He’s removed his packs from Fennec’s bike–both to facilitate a more strategic repack and to access a panel behind one of the side compartments–and they sit propped up against the boardwalk nearby.

That’s it.

There’s something you need to do.

Sidling over to his packs and reaching out with your feelings, you search for the thrum of kyber. There it is. It’s easy to locate the Darksaber and extract it from the pack. You place it in your lap, covering it with the end of your tunic.

Uli-ah’s found some whomp rats living under the boardwalk and you watch as he plays with them, running to one side when they do, and trying to beat them to the other side when they change course.

After a short while, Din closes up the hatches and reattaches the spanner to its flank seating. Then he makes his way over to you, silently retrieves his packs, and returns to the speeder, taking a long time tying them down.

It’s only when everything’s ready to go and there’s nothing more to keep him away, he comes back and lays a hand on your cheek. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

Leaning into his hand and trapping it with one of your own, you hold up the Darksaber with the other. “You need to concentrate, Din.” His short, frustrated sigh only pushes your resolve further. “You’re not the only one with a duty of care, mister. This blade is tricky and you need all the help you can get.”

“I’ll be okay, Little Bird.”

“Not if you leave in the state you’re in. I know you’re not angry at me, but you’re uncomfortable leaving me here and you can’t leave like that. This weapon,” you whisper urgently, pressing the hilt into his palm, “won't listen to you unless your feelings are sharp. You’ll need its emotional boost to tap its whole potential and gain mastery over it. I can’t send you off like this. I won’t. I need you to know you have nothing to worry about.”

He’s silent for a moment, choosing his words. “I’m not worried. Not about you.”

He means it, you can hear it, but he’s still not content with leaving you. It’s not just another man finding you attractive, there’s something in him that’s warring. Not quite fear, something closer to insecurity, confusion…

...and you realize that he hasn’t grappled with feelings like this before.

Then it’s time. Set him up for success.

You’ll do anything to help him, to protect him.

To ensure he uses this weapon with love.

This won’t be difficult.

On the contrary, it’s the easiest decision you’ve ever made.

Placing one hand over his on the saber, and the other on his breastplate right above his heart, you look him calm in the eye and pour all your confidence and affection into the words–

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.”

________________

PART 3: DIN

The way you bravely face challenges. How you deftly handle your weapon. The way you inject a sense of playfulness into his orbit, your entry into his world a lively ignition to what feels like a whole new epoch in his life.

Life before your arrival, and life after. Not many have affected him like this. Changed his mind and heart like this. He can only think of one other.

But this connection is different from the bond he shares with Grogu. This one is unique, it comforts and calms him, makes him feel worthy as a man and a Mandalorian, meets him as an equal and captures his wonder in ways he wouldn’t have anticipated.

You never cease to amaze him. Even now.

He has witnessed Mandalorian courtships out of the periphery of his everyday life, seemingly never taking much notice, believing it was never meant for him.

But he did take note. Secretly. Resigned. He noticed those who grew up together and took their time. He noticed couples that seemed to range from rivals to friends to bonded in the matter of days. There didn’t seem to be a pattern, no guidelines on the right way to find your partner, or how long it might take to declare a joining.

With you… he doesn’t know what you might expect from him. Din doesn’t quite understand your old creed–the rejection of attachments–how tightly you hold it and how much of it you’ve already broken for him.

Because he loves you. In a way that’s perplexing. Your love came to him, and his to you, meeting in the middle of the battlefield. But there was no skirmish, no treaties, just a foregoing of pretense, and open arms.

Simple. Beautiful. Like everything you do.

Perhaps he felt like he was betraying that simplicity–that openness, that trust–when Vanth rounded the doorway wearing you and your new foundling on his arm. It wasn’t as simple as jealousy and a twist of the heart, but the hot flash of possession that flamed behind the beskar, growling from deep within him.

Attachment.

Mine.

While he was grateful and happy to claim you as his own as far as you gave yourself, to protect you and serve you, to meet your affection with his own, he had no right to chain you to him, to claim you so thoroughly that you could not be free in order to flourish. He would never ask you to form an attachment that would fracture your faith.

He didn’t and doesn’t think for a moment that you have any interest in Vanth. Or anyone but himself.

But the flash of emotion was dangerous. Selfish. Not the kind of love you deserve.

And yet, you still accept it. You perceive it because you know him. And you accept it.

And now you’re speaking words that are not only true…they’ve been true from the beginning of this whole damn venture.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” You repeat the words, only a little worry sneaking into your voice now because he hasn’t answered you, hasn’t spoken…dank farrik, how long has he been standing here in shock?

How long has he believed he would never receive those words?

All that’s necessary is a repetition.

It’s only words.

But it’s everything.

Which is what he’s always wanted to give you.

So he makes the exchange. Quietly. Simply. Sincerely.

"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors."

And he can feel it. He can feel the love and concern you have for him. He can feel your trust. It pushes into him like a warm wave, flowing through all the way back to the beginning. The throughline of that first night he walked you home–I’ll be your armor–to the moment when he outfitted you with some of your own, to now as you use your whole self to send him off with armor more resilient than beskar and a reminder when he wields the saber just who gave him that gift.

Clutching your hand at his chest, he squeezes tightly as the wave washes back through him, gritting his teeth behind the visor, the emotions silently taking their toll.

To everyone else, the armor says he is a stoic warrior, his silence is his strength.

But standing here, now, in front of you, he might as well be unmasked, might as well be naked and screaming; he knows your heart can sense the riot in his, even if you can’t see his face.

There’s quiet on the street. Uli-ah’s stopped playing with the womp rats and stands staring from a distance. Fennec and Vanth are waiting for him at the speeder. And yet, he can’t seem to move, can’t seem to leave you.

So you lay hands on his helmet and pull him closer, gently tapping your forehead against the cold metal. “Go. The sooner you go, the sooner you come back to me.” ________________

They’ve lost a little time, but by the position of the suns, they should still make the palace by nightfall.

“So Fett’s taken over the crime syndicate?”

“Not quite,” Fennec shouts over the roar of her speeder and the rush of the wind. “Boba’s interested in striking a deal with Madame Garza in Mos Espa. Going to set up protections. Territories. Wants to undo some wrongs he’s made in the past.”

That’s noble. He’s an odd man, Fett. Unpredictable. But there’s no reason Din can see for saying it out loud, and so he reserves his words, focuses instead on the shifting sands.

“That was a tense parting with your partner back there,” Fennec pokes, taking advantage of the silence.

“Yeah. Riduurok.”

“Is that serious?”

“From what I’ve been told, it can be.”

Fennec deftly maneuvers the speeder around a small minefield of rocky outcroppings before turning her head over her shoulder and side-eyeing him curiously through the slit in her helmet, “From what you’ve been told–?”

“I don’t know,” Din says, his vocoder barely audible over the slur of the world going by, not caring much who hears it other than himself, “I’ve never heard anyone else actually speak those words. There aren’t usually witnesses at a Mandalorian wedding.” ________________

To be continued.

#losing my religion #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #soft din #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #tusken raiders #fennec shand #cobb vanth

[sprout-fics]

Yk what I’m thinking about? Rough, jealous sex with Fennec😙

(I am constantly thinking about getting my shit wrecked seven ways to Sunday by this woman, thank you anon)

“F-Fennec please-!”

Your voice is a choked, whiny cry into the red silk sheets, hips trembling and fists clutching the fabric like a lifeline. It’s ruined, you’re sure. Fennec has you leaking all over the bedding, slick pooling through your folds and squelching with every press of the toy inside you.

You’re breathing hard, each pant tasting like spotchka and red lipstick and her. When you brace your head against the mattress with a groan it’s her lips that are ghosting the shell of you ear, whispering a torrid promise there.

“I think you have another one in you, sweetheart.”

You can’t deny it, can’t protest because suddenly Fennec’s hips snap sharply and the smooth, blunted tip of the strap-on is driving further into you. You gasp, but the sound is broken, desperate.

Her weight settles low across your hips, hands splayed across the sensitive skin in your waist. She’d dragged you back here after seeing you flirt with one of the roaming mercenaries looking for work- a young upstart with a holo-star smile and days numbered on his fate. You’d done it out if curiosity- wondering if the huntress would actually rise to take the bait of the envy you were trying to provoke in her.

You had gotten your answer far too quickly.

A whimper bubbles up your throat as she scrapes something inside you, soft and spongy and almost painful in its pleasure. She finds it again with a soft but precise roll of her hips. You can hardly hear her voice past the blissed out state of your thoughts, mind lost to a haze of unyielding, overstimulated pleasure.

“You think you can make me jealous, sand mouse?” She husks, and her own voice is short in her chest as she watched you come undone under her with keen, coal dark eyes.

A hand smoothes down the bare skin of your spine, loosing a shuddering exhale that gives her more space to further press you into the mattress below.

“You can sleep with whoever you want-“ Fennec murmurs, voice a low, rumbling purr. “But none of them can do what I do.”

“Yes, yes, yes-“ You chant as you feel yet another orgasm blooming inside your veins- seeking room to unfurl its wings. The head of the strap is nudging against the curve of your cervix, it’s passage eased by the copious amounts of slick from your previous climaxes. “Fen-Fen please-“

You’re not sure what you’re begging for at this point. For release, for rapture, for rhyme or reason- you can’t tell. Overstimulation clouds your senses, legs quivering under her weight and hands clenching and unclenching into the sheets.

“None of them can make you come the way I do.” She whispers, and when your orgasm ascends you feel the works reduce to shades of coal and vermillion until there’s nothing left at all.

#fennec shand x f! reader #fennec shand x you #fennec shand x reader #fennec Shand #fennec x reader #smut #18+ only #minors dni #drabbles #my writing #my fic #GOD THE THINGS ID DO TO GET PEGGED BY HER #anyways have this midnight filth thanks

[unhinged-summer-fun]

mesh network - Chapter 5

Chapter 5 - bit decay Boba Fett x Din Djarin x Fennec Shand x F!Reader (22+)

series masterlist

Chapter warnings: Feelings, I feel like Lando needs his own warning hehe, the unhinged-summer-fun special on hilarious dinnertime shenanigans, overt foreshadowing for chapter 6 and 7, group sex, cockwarming, subspace, erotic choking, consensual possessive behavior.

Word Count: 7416

A/N: I know it’s been.... a minute, lol. Besides overarching creative block, there’s been a lot of personal issues going on in my life the last month. Huge fuckin thank you to @ezrasbirdie​ and @pedrosedibles​ for their support and beta eyes, can’t kiss you enough.

< Chapter 4 # Chapter 5 # Chapter 6 >

“There’s an important business meeting on Tuesday night, I want you there.”

Boba had spoken to you in passing while he had been walking back from the pool, still dripping wet around the shoulders, a fact which distracted you from the actual words he spoke for so long that he tilted his head to the side in amusement.

“Feeling alright, kitten?” He smirked when he saw you fluster, and you nodded quickly.

“A meeting? When?”

“Nine sharp.”

“I’ll have to get up early.”

“Nine in the evening, kitten. It’s a dinner with an associate. He insists on doing these things casually, I’m afraid.” You were confused. He said it was a meeting, but then it was a dinner, and—

“But tomorrow is Tuesday.”

“Indeed it is.”

With that, he walked away, leaving you bewildered in the hallway, your mind a jumble of broad, strong shoulders and wet skin. When Fennec walked by, her heels clicking across the marble, the realization that you only owned athleisure and pajamas hit you mercilessly. You gawked at her easy beauty. Her hair remained down, flowing backward in a cascade of raven locks that blew spicy perfume your way.

Just like Boba had, she turned on one of the aforementioned heels and cocked her head to the left. “What is it, kitten?” She asked, bringing a hand up to brush an eyelash off your cheek. Your face burned with the attention. She towered over you like this, and you got the feeling she liked that fact.

“I don’t have anything to wear for tomorrow.”

Her sharp smile softened a moment, and her hand cupped your cheek kindly. “Of course you do. You think we’d let you show up naked?”

“Yes,” you said bluntly.

She rolled her eyes but smiled at you. “That’s fair. Don’t get cheeky. And don’t worry about it. You’ll have something.”

It only took three hours for you to get impatient, eager to spoil the surprise. Even throwing yourself headfirst into work wasn’t working.

The network was really growing itself, using a (stolen) AI framework you’d taken off of Collegiate University’s computer sciences department a few weeks back. You’d earned some dirty looks from the other members of the tech team, but you’d also earned a smile from Din, who called you his clever girl.

You were determined to keep earning that praise, to make yourself irreplaceable here. You worried that any minute where you were found idle would be met with scorn and disappointment from the higher-ups. Cobb came to check on you here and there, mostly using the big fluffy armchair in your room to nap in while you worked, typing and clicking and grumbling at code for hours on end.

You noticed the worried looks Din gave you when you’d get up from bed to go work on some epiphany about the security walls. He looked guarded, but in a sad way; like the hunch of your shoulders shrinking past the edge of the doorframe was the worst sight to see.

It was difficult to ignore. His stares were the heaviest of all. But it was difficult to ignore a lot of things in the Palace. One couldn’t stick their head in sand if only marble and imported hardwood lay beneath their feet. Whatever was transpiring between you and Din and Boba and Fennec wasn’t spoken of during meals, nor midnight trips to one another’s rooms, nor even the lazy days where the only order of the day was lounging in front of a radio.

For one who spoke their opinions quite freely a lot of the time, you were uncharacteristically quiet regarding how you felt about this whole thing. On one hand, the sex was fantastic, mind-numbing, and never the same. On the other, the feelings you were having were just as mind-numbingly new, and that left you scared. This was one of the oldest relationships known to mankind, and not a single book or film or show or piece of art could encapsulate what you were feeling right then. There wasn’t a song that explained it enough where you felt steady.

So you lost yourself in lines of code and hoped things would work themselves out without needing to talk about it.

And we all know how well that mindset works out.

##

“You told her we picked something out for her to wear?” Din hissed as he grabbed the keys. Fennec pushed a hand through her hair and shrugged.

“I thought you had, honestly.”

The noise Din made could only be diagnosed by a seasoned mechanic.

“I was thinking we start brainstorming in the car,” she mentioned later in the elevator.

“You’re killing me.”

##

“Come in, kitten,” Boba called from his desk. You poked your head around the heavy door you’d just knocked on.

“How’d you know it was me?” You asked.

“You’re the only one who knocks.”

You took a seat in the closest lounge chair by his desk, folding your legs up under you with your laptop balancing on one thigh. You poked around in the virtual machine for a few minutes, stealing glances over at Boba. With the blinding brightness of the day shining in behind him, you couldn’t make out his eyeline, which was probably why the room was positioned this way.

“Put that down, come over here.” His voice was smooth, but snapped across the hardwood as if he’d shouted. An order, then. You felt your body respond, heat pooling in your gut as you did as you were told, pulled to him like he was tugging on a string.

When you were close enough, he pushed out from the desk for a moment, patting one thigh. Sit here, the move said. You took your spot, hands on your knees as he curled you up in his arms the way he liked. More often than not, this was how he wanted you, not just in arm’s reach but already captured. One large hand rested on your thigh, keeping you secure to his lap. The other came up to stroke at the back of your neck softly. You felt tension bleed from muscles you hadn’t known were tight.

Just as your mind was turning to mush, as you were about to slip off into that numbed place he brought you to, he spoke again. “What’s on your mind?”

“Huh?” You said dumbly, blinking up at him. He waited patiently for you to recover and think of what to say. Boba Fett, you realized, valued taking the time to do things right the first time, and recognizing limits when they presented themselves. You appreciated that about him, and never felt shame for taking a second to gather your thoughts when he asked a question. “Why do you want me at the meeting?”

He’d involved you in his business, yes, but you’d been mostly peripheral to the actual dealings of his company. You were there to ensure those dealings went through securely and covertly. The most you heard about the actual happenings in The City and beyond was usually long after the fact, seeing an arrest here or a busted syndicate across the river.

Part of you preferred not to know. If you found out Boba and the others dealt in affairs you couldn’t abide by, things that hurt innocents or caused undue harm to those that helped others, you didn’t know if you could stay, and if you weren’t secure in that fact, you wouldn’t be allowed to walk away alive.

Boba, for his part, didn’t have as much hand-wringing over this as you did. His answer came swift, with a smile ghosted over the corner of his mouth where an old scar pulled it slightly upward.

“Because I think you’d like it. And you’d like Lando.” The way he said it gave you the impression you’d be more annoyed than charmed by this Lando creature, and that amused him. “Fennec and Din wouldn’t let me bow out at a moment’s notice just because I didn’t want to talk to Lando anymore.”

“Ah. And you think I would?”

“I think you’re a perfect distraction for a business meeting that’s doomed to be boring and full of small talk.”

You scoffed out a laugh and shook your head. “Are those the only reasons?”

Again, his answer was instantaneous. “Yes.” The conviction behind his affections, the simple truth of I enjoy having you around, and you make every moment more bearable rang across your bones like fingers on a harp. You felt thoroughly strummed by him.

“Okay,” you whispered, leaning back into the hand at your nape. Boba took the opportunity to guide your head forward, capturing your mouth in a furious kiss. You had no clue what the fervor and passion was for, but you certainly weren’t complaining.

After he’d had his fill of your mouth, he asked you how your projects were going, like he hadn’t just had his tongue down your throat and his teeth around your lips a moment prior. Once more, you needed a second before you could respond. Even then, you were breathless.

“I’m not sure if it’s ever going to be done,” you said.

Something dark - concern - flashed behind his eyes, like a cloud blowing over the sun. The look was gone before you could think to ask about it.

“Perhaps you should be redefining success. Would you make your team work as long and round-the-clock as you?”

It felt like a bucket of cold water on your head when he said it. You shook your head tentatively. “But I work this hard so they don’t have to.”

“If that were true, would I have asked? Have you ever taken a vacation before?”

The answer was no. You had never held down a job for more than a few weeks, and even when you were unemployed, you couldn’t just magically afford to stop being unemployed for a few weeks of the year. Your body and mind had been running in survival mode for several years, and you were afraid of what was going to happen when that stopped. In truth, the only time you remembered feeling relaxed was when you were with the others, whether in their bed or just holding their attention. The moment they looked away, however, you were back to being just as anxious as before.

“I don’t think I’d even know how to take vacation here.”

“You just have to ask.”

##

Din and Fennec arrived back at the Palace, having overspent quite a bit after Boba had sent a message about his plans. The dinner dress had been decided very early in their shopping, but everything else had taken all day, and they didn’t return home until late in the evening. Din hauled the bags up to his room while Fennec strutted about the penthouse, looking for you.

She found you sitting on the pool deck, face illuminated by the soft blue glow of your laptop. You were haloed by the moonlight reflecting off of the bay, looking like an angel lost in their heavenly tasks. She took a seat on the lounger next to yours and crossed her long legs over one another.

“Nice night,” she said, startling you from your concentration. When you looked over at her, she could see your eyes were a bit red, bloodshot from strain more than emotions.

“I didn’t realize it was so late.”

Fennec finally saw the plate of untouched food on the table to your right. Boba must have at least attempted to feed you, but you’d been so lost in your work that it’d gone cold long ago. You were still in shorts and a shirt, but the weather had chilled considerably since you last looked up. You gave a full-body shiver and flexed your fingers. From where she was sitting, Fennec could hear your joints pop and crack from overuse.

“Surprised you still have battery power on this thing,” she said, snatching your laptop while your hands were off it. You had some heat rashes on your thighs from your device, which Fennec tutted at. With deft fingers, she saved your work and logged you out, shutting the laptop down in record time. You stared at the machine blankly, unsure of what to do. You could feel the anxiety returning like a swarm of locusts at your back, encroaching on your peace with every flap of their wings.

“I’m sorry,” you said, looking up at her for a split second before looking away. Fennec reached out and caught your chin between her fingers, making you look up at her again.

“Your worth, your place here, is not judged by the amount of hours you log on that computer, nor the hours of sleep you deprive yourself of, nor the time you spend worrying about any of that. Your place is here because we want it to be. You could choose to never look at a screen again and we would still want you. Do you understand?”

“No,” you croaked, feeling your eyes well up with tears. “I don’t understand.” Her fingers faltered on your face for a moment, and you gently pulled from her grasp. “I don’t understand what I can give you, give all of you. I don’t understand.”

Her hands fell limp by her side, and for the first time, she looked lost. “But we’re not asking anything of you.”

“I know, I just… I can’t let this go.” You closed your eyes, and she brought her arms around you, pulling you into an embrace. Fennec never shied away from an uncomfortable situation, and she never let you feel like that for long. As you quietly wept, she held you close, keeping you grounded until you could breathe again.

“I’ve got you. I won’t let you go.”

##

Din slumped across the deck chair on the top floor while Boba performed his nightly routine, lighting candles at the corner shrine and settling his body down for rest. The two reveled in the quiet, the sounds of the city kept far below them on this rare calm night. After about twenty minutes, Din noticed the new candle, pink and blue, on the ledge next to the candles Boba kept for Cobb, Din, Fennec, and The Tribe. They sat highest on the shrine, whereas the candles of those who had fallen sat in cascading tiers all the way to the ground.

This one is for my father, Boba had explained several years ago. These for my uncles, though I did not know them more than passingly, as a child. This, for my godmother Zam. This for Aurra and these for Bossk, Dengar. 

When did they die? Din had asked.

Some, long before they were laid to rest.

“That for her?” Din asked, once the memories had faded and Boba had completed his routine, fixing him in his sights.

“Of course.”

It was pretty serious, then, if Boba lit a candle for her safety and wellbeing. Even Fennec and Din hadn’t gotten their own candles until after La Città. You had not so much invaded as you had situated yourself in their lives, filling the spaces between every broken edge of each other and pulling them closer.

Why couldn’t you see that?

“You’re deep in thought. Dangerous pastime to keep,” Boba said, blowing out each candle and replacing them on the small shelf bolted to the concrete wall. The lower floors had glass railings, showing off the splendiferous views of The City and its harbor, but on the private level, they preferred to keep things as protected as possible. That meant bulletproof glass, reinforced concrete walls, state-of-the-art locks. It was a funny metaphor, then, that you were able to bypass all of that just as easily as their digital security.

Din finally spoke. “I’m worried about her.”

“In what way?” Boba asked, though if Din knew one thing, it was that Boba already had this conversation with himself, and already knew each answer Din would give him.

“She’s overworking herself. She hasn’t stopped to take a break unless we literally tie her down. I think there’s some anxiety there about her place with us, she doesn’t know how to reconcile why we brought her and why we kept her. I heard her talking with Fennec earlier. She does not understand.”

Silence followed his words, and Din followed Boba back inside. Without the ambient sounds that came with being this high up, the interior of Boba’s suite was deafening. The shadow of the anxiety Din had once shared with you whispered in the back of his mind.

“I believe that she is under the impression that things like this resolve themselves through willful ignorance and avoidance. To properly enter into a relationship, she must learn that honesty and communication are more important than temporary discomfort.”

“So we let her fail?” Din asked, feeling his chest tighten.

“Of course not,” Boba said, leveling a sharp look his way. “No amount of pleading or instruction or demands will make her learn. She is far too independent and used to a life of low reliance on others. We can offer her trust and attention until the moon falls, but it will never ever sink in properly unless she comes to this realization herself.”

Din saw the logic play out like a chessboard before him. He felt thoroughly chided, and averted his gaze abashedly. Soft steps approached him, and a hand tilted his chin upward.

“Cyare,” Boba murmured. At one point, Din could not hear a single word of that language without shivering, remembering his terrible childhood. Somehow, Boba had fixed that instinct in him, and he could take the affections without flinching. “Your worries are not unfounded. Your concern is good, and natural. You know that she will fall, but for now you need her to know you’re just there to catch her.”

##

Your access to the internet (and the intranet) was revoked about two hours before the dinner. You spent all of fifteen minutes trying to type and skip your way around the block, but it seemed like someone (most likely Fennec) had simply turned off the routers entirely. It was possible there was a signal jammer involved. The point was, you were well and truly offline for the first time since you’d been taken to the Palace, and it filled your brain with bees.

Pacing the room only did so much for your mood. A knock at the door reminded you that you had a whole four-story penthouse to stomp around in, not just the corners of your room. Opening the door revealed Din, dressed down compared to his usual work clothes but still undeniably vogue. He held a garment bag in his hand, one with a name that drew your eye.

“What’s this?”

“Fennec told you we’d gotten you something for tonight, hadn’t she?” he asked, stepping inside and invading your personal space. You didn’t mind, as it broke up the monotony of the last thirty minutes of pacing. “Go shower and get yourself ready for dinner, pretty girl. I’ll lay all this out for you over here for when you’re done.” He sealed his order with a kiss to your forehead and a squeeze at your waist. It made your mouth go dry in a heartbeat.

You forced yourself to actually take your time, twisting your hair up into something more put together than the unruly mess it liked to be every morning. Din had left everything you needed for tonight, by his standards, so when you came out and only saw a slinky green dress, shimmery and almost black under the lights, you wondered what the hell else they had planned for the evening.

Four could play at that game, you thought. You slid the dress on and zipped it at the side, wearing nothing beneath it but your skin. You took your hair down, leaving it messy and rumpled. If you were to attend a casual business meeting wearing nothing but silk, you would look the part wherever you could.

The elevator ride down to the living spaces was a little awkward, the slap of your bare feet on the pristine marble announcing your arrival long before you reached the formal dining room. Fennec was in a new pair of black stilettos, a striking bloodred dress contouring her body into severe and sexy geometries. Her hair sat pinned to her head in a complicated braid pattern, the details somewhat lost in her black tresses from a distance. You felt your body wanting to drift closer in curiosity. She looked you up and down, pleased with what she saw.

Din had undone another button since you’d seen him, leaning casually by the entrance with a tumblr of something dark amber in his hand. The glass dangled precariously over the ornate parquet, pulled between the gravity of his touch and that of the world. You knew the feeling intimately. He, too, looked you over, quirking an eyebrow as if to ask if you’d taken his unspoken dare. When he got to your bare feet, the ghost of a smile flickered over his expression.

“There you are, kitten,” Boba said, stepping out from the bar area in the corner. He handed you a julep of some kind, black mint muddled throughout the ice. You thanked him with a duck of your head. “What a picture you make with that drink in your hand. Spin for me, let me see.”

Three pairs of eyes watched you spin in place, quickly at first to see the skirt flutter and then slowly to catch your balance. Boba’s hand came to your waist before he leaned down and kissed your cheek. His hand drifted over your hip, your ass, to the top of your thigh. With the fabric so soft and thin, he could tell what Din and Fennec already knew. You felt him smile against your face.

“Sir, Mr. Calrissian’s car has arrived.” Cobb’s voice spoke from just beyond the entrance, a few steps behind where you’d been stopped. You hadn’t heard him come up.

“Very good. Let’s get this over with.” Boba’s tone had shifted into a more serious, detached pitch than before. The authority it resonated with was unmistakable. You could feel your nipples hardening behind the silk, and could only hope the cowl-like drape of the fabric concealed them.

It was little use. At this point, you were the starter, the entree, and the dessert.

“It seems he’s brought Mr. Karga with him,” Cobb said, finger to his ear as he relayed information. Boba rolled his eyes and made a waving motion.

“Of course he did. Another setting, then.” Two waitstaff appeared out of nowhere to accommodate the request, but Boba ignored the hubbub. “Sit here with me, kitten,” Boba said, pulling your chair out near the head of the table. Behind it sat a large stone fireplace, unlit for the balmy spring evening. You sipped your julep after getting settled. Din held out Fennec’s chair for her, and Boba remained standing for the next few minutes.

A boisterous noise - laughter - carried across the marble floors outside in the hall, signaling the approach of the guests. You felt a heel press against the top of your foot. Fennec overemphasized a deep breath, to get you to relax. You nodded and withdrew your feet, calming down.

The guests did not signal outrage that others were seated when they arrived. Handshakes were exchanged, and if you didn’t already know how little Boba cared for social niceties, you wouldn’t have known he was uncomfortable. The group caught up just a little before Boba pushed them to the bar. You sipped your drink a little faster to steel yourself.

“I see we have a new resident at the Palace,” one of the men said, a dashing older man with a broad chest and a confident upward tilt to his chin. Your face heated with the attention, and it took everything in you to not duck and hide from it. He approached and introduced himself. “Greef Karga. I run the—”

“Ahem.” Karga’s companion across the room, presumably the promised Lando, coughed.

Karga didn’t look bothered by the chiding. “My apologies. Business is meant for the table.”

“I’ve heard otherwise,” you said before you could stop yourself. Karga’s eyebrows flew up in amusement before he laughed. It was an infectious sort of laughter, one you couldn’t help smiling at. You offered your name and your hand, which he repeated and shook politely.

“Your setting is over here,” Din said rather severely from across the table. “That’s my seat.”

So you were to be protected on all sides by your lovers. The thought comforted you instead of stifled you.

“Very well. We shall have to get to know one another from a distance, then.” Karga excused himself to take a seat, and Din sat where he was promised. Fennec talked quietly with Karga once he sat, which brought your attention to the other two men approaching the table.

“Kitten, this is Lando Calrissian. We’ve known one another a long time,” Boba said by means of introduction.

“Lost track of who owes who this many favors,” Lando said, clapping him on the back. You’d find out later that the incident in La Città would have ended in four graves had Lando not stepped in to save them all. Those kinds of loyalties were common here, it seemed.

You offered your name and hand again, the other man - just as handsome - meeting your eyes with a businesslike smile. He still had the same curiosity that Karga had at your unannounced presence, but he had a bit of a better poker face. The group sat, and the waitstaff returned with plates for everybody. You tried to focus on your food, but the sudden shift of atmosphere dragged your attention up and down the table as everyone began to talk.

“Heard about something happening in Medina this week.”

“Something isn’t happening anymore, your intel is late. What are you here for?”

“I was in town and figured I’d get the news from the source myself. We haven’t met in a few months, Boba.” Lando had a shit-eating grin on his face as he brought a blini with gravlax to his mouth.

“Things were busy,” Boba said, his gruff side coming out.

Lando’s eyes flickered over to you for a moment. “I see that.”

Din’s hackles raised enough for you to reach out and grab his leg to pull him back. He looked a little dumbfounded that you would stop him from protecting you. It probably wasn’t every day that happened.

You realized all of the attention was on you now, and had to think fast.

“Why do you prefer to do business at mealtime? Seems a bit unproductive.”

“Lando insists on casual settings for business arrangements. It’s gotten him out of most of his run-ins with the law,” Fennec shared. It made sense, less paper trail and more vagaries.

“And why do you have run-ins with the law?” you asked bluntly. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Boba full-on smirking. Lando’s bravado faltered a moment, obviously unprepared to get an interrogation from a barefoot woman he’d never met before.

“I think we all have…” Lando said, looking for support from the others.

“I haven’t,” you said with a shrug. “Perhaps I should think bigger, then?” you said, looking to Boba.

“Easy, kitten. Eat your food.” His tone was back to playful and amused, but you knew you’d successfully swerved the conversation back to the intended guests. It felt a bit thrilling, and your food tasted even better as a result.

Through the next three courses, you caught snippets of things that could actually be business in between triple-entendres and well-crafted codewords. You half expected there to be a contract, signing things at the end, but after coffee and dessert, there was nothing but a handshake shared among the guests, kisses pressed to cheeks, and a sense of exhausted relief at having to hold your tongue the entire evening.

It was strange, as strange as things even could be with your new life here. The entire time, you didn’t have a single thought about the security system, even when Lando asked very lightly what your job was in the business. Boba had defined your role as Subject Matter Expert in Cybersecurity, Network Integrity, and Whatever Else Sounds Nice to You, Kitten, but he’d called you a lifesaver. 

The feeling of being wanted, needed here, sat in your gut like warm chocolate, and did not leave. You spaced out for a moment, only coming back to yourself when you felt two warm, heavy hands fall on your shoulders. “Time to go to bed, kitten,” Boba said from behind you.

“I’m not that tired…” you said, looking up.

“Who said we were sleeping?”

##

“Strip.”

Boba’s order came as soon as the elevator closed on all four of you, and without looking to see if it was meant for anybody else, you shrugged out of your dress, letting it pool at your feet before you kicked it to the corner. Instantly, three sets of hands were on you, Din latching his mouth to your shoulder and Fennec twisting her fingers in your hair to allow the former more room to work. Your mouth was claimed by the man in charge.

Boba stood before you, one hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other coming up to wrap around the base of your throat. As he kissed you, you fell apart into a mess of whines and moans. Your partners didn’t let this faze them, instead pressing their advantage and moving their hands lower and lower. Din reached down to grab at your hip, while Fennec boldly gave you a spank that made your knees go weak.

“Good girl, making it through dinner for us.” Boba spoke into your mouth, drowning your lungs in praise until it was all you wanted to breathe. “What shall we do with you tonight?” he asked, and you felt a smirk against your shoulder, followed by a playful nip at your ear from Fennec.

The elevator came to a stop, and opened onto Boba’s suite.

You’d seen a few glimpses of it, here and there. Boba wasn’t exactly in the “tour guide” mood whenever he brought you here, and you’d certainly never seen it all lit up as it was now. Deep brown wood with thick, almost-black grain lined every wall and most every piece of furniture, like every piece and panel had been made from the same tree. You were lifted into Din’s arms, forbidden from walking so long a distance as twenty feet to the bed. When he set you down across the black silk, you got the perfect view of your three lovers sizing you up, something like predators, but you loved nothing more than to be hunted by them all.

To prove that point, you spread your legs wide to show off, to entice your hunters home.

“Din,” Boba said without looking away. At once, Din dropped to his knees and pulled you to the edge of the bed, hurrying forward to press eager, sloppy kisses on your thighs and all the way up to your cunt. At the first touch of his hot, wet tongue against your clit, you stuttered out a gasp, your vision sparkling for a moment like you’d been shocked. Din moaned directly into you, pulling your attention down to see Fennec’s hand fisted in his curls, her knuckles gone a violent shade of white.

But you could hardly focus on that any longer, because the sight of Boba undressing before you made your mouth go dry and your brain go numb with desire. Piece by piece, he shed his layers until he stood bare before you, nothing but scars and strength and an unfailing masculine energy you always found yourself breathless around. Whatever accident he’d been in several years ago, it had been a rough one, leaving most of his body covered in scars at various stages and qualities of healing.

When you’d kissed one for the first time, the spiderwebbing map of pink and brown tissue stretched across his chest, he’d paused. You didn’t think he breathed for several moments, and you were worried you had offended him until he pulled you up for a kiss, keeping you occupied for the rest of your time together. It had been curious, but you’d still felt less than confident with your permission to ask about it.

He would tell you eventually, right?

Boba joined you on the bed, lifting you by the shoulders to place your torso in his lap. From there, he could observe you better, and leave you accessible to his hungry, wandering hands. He reached down to rub his calloused palm over your breasts, the other hand resuming its place on your throat. Din added a finger to the mix down below, and your answering moan sounded insensate when Boba squeezed.

“Such a good girl for us, letting us play like this,” Boba murmured. Your eyes drifted closed, entranced by the praise and sweetness. It was sweet at the bottom of it all, though the sweetness left you tired and unable to move in some cases. “I think we should see how long you can last.”

That was a loaded question. How long, as in how long will you be good? How long, as in how long will you let us do this before you pass out? Or was it how long, as in how long will you be ours, how long will you last in the embrace of our affection and forgiveness? How long will you last if we threw you to the curb?

The hand around your neck released once more. “You’re rather in your head tonight, kitten. Care to share your thoughts?”

You blinked, sucking in a shaky breath as you came back to yourself. “I’m sorry,” you whispered on reflex alone, looking around at the paused scene around you. The desire and electric tension was still present, and in no danger of dissipating, but your state required a checking-in. “I’m… I don’t—”

“Do you want this?” Fennec asked simply, her voice a low rasp by your hip. Her eyes blazed seriousness. “If the answer is ever no, we will respect that, but I need an answer from you when I ask you.”

You blinked, a fire in your belly from her authority alone. “I don’t know what I need, but I know I want this with you. With all of you.” It was a miracle how your voice did not shake, and you credited that victory to you speaking only the truth.

“Will you trust us to know what you need?” Boba said, the thumb across your pulse coming up to stroke over your jaw. It made you shiver despite the heat building in your body.

“Yes,” you whispered, looking up to meet his eyes. He allowed the moment to sink in for just a few seconds before smirking, an eyebrow raising.

“Yes, what?”

The heat built to a fire within you. “Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

What Boba felt you needed tonight was to get out of your head. So many parts of your time in the Palace had been tinged with thought and worry, anxiety gripping you like Boba did now. With those two distinctions made, yes I want you and yes I trust you, it was like your mind had permission to drain, and you felt your body follow suit, melting into Boba’s thighs and sticking there like honey. Din resumed as well, you could feel his smile against your legs where his cheeks touched. Fennec came up to kiss at your belly, lightly scratching against your sides and making you gasp aloud.

“Good girl.”

Boba let that go on for quite a while, until Din had made you cum all over his face and hands. You weren’t allowed to catch your breath before being flipped over to your front, hands pulled across your back. Boba shifted a little until you were face-to-face with his cock again, just like that first time but entirely different all the same. “Go on,” he taunted, smirking at the shiver you gave when his voice got that low. “Keep that nice and warm for me, won’t you kitten?”

You nodded, warming yourself up before him. With this task at hand, you barely had room to worry about whether they wanted you in return, you couldn’t think about anything but giving them pleasure. All of them.

From somewhere off your peripheral, you registered movement to your side, though with Boba’s massive thighs surrounding your head, you couldn’t tell what was happening. You could hear Fennec’s gasps though, her taunting teases. You could hear Din breathing harshly through his nose, how he did when he wanted to make it last. You could infer and paint that picture based on sound alone.

You’d get to see it, one day. You felt that, even if you couldn’t yet quite believe it. Fennec was murmuring something to Din, and from what you knew of his… proclivities… you were certain there was no short amount of praise involved in his struggle to remain in control. It always thrilled you to realize you shared in the same desires as your partners, and it made you feel like you were deserving of your preferred pleasure.

Something told you that the lovers you shared this bed with had much lower standards for what you did or did not deserve in this life.

Vibrating down from his chest to his belly, to his cock and into your mouth, you could feel Boba speaking to them, approving and instructing in an effortless way he did everyday. It made you moan around him, though you had no clue what he was saying. The simple radiant authority was getting you off, a fact you were both surprised and not at all shocked to realize.

A heavy hand came down to rest on your head, pulling your hair just so that you looked up at him through tear-clumped lashes. He cooed to you, thumbing at your stretched lips and smearing spit and tears over your face. It was still a caress underneath it all, and your eyes fluttered a little before you remembered to look up at him.

“…ahead, darling. Why don’t you get me off like a good girl.” The shiver down your spine told him you’d heard him, and instead of attempting to answer, you got to work, letting your mouth wake up again as he filled your throat, hardening past the point of comfort, but you knew he liked to see you squirm, and you liked the way he looked at you when you did.

The world centered onto that one point where you connected, hands on your head to keep you in place as he fucked your throat, your hands on his thighs to keep you grounded among the ether. You felt nothing but the throb of him against your tongue, the head of his cock dipping in and out of the back of your throat. There were no thoughts in your head but him.

It’s that relief of thought that pushed a few tears from your eyes, dripping onto the webbing between his thumb and index finger. He made a strangled sort of noise, then the taste of him cumming burst across your tongue, flooding your senses and making you swallow on impulse. You didn’t miss a drop, continuing to suck and bob your head until he pulled you off, spit-wet and hazy.

He didn’t kiss you, which your tired tongue and lips thanked him for. Instead, he hauled your body up his, pulling you down on top of him for just a moment before he rolled you beneath him. That trancelike feeling returned, the one that felt like the world shrinking to the span of his touch alone. His hands were unable to anticipate, everywhere and nowhere at once. When his fingers found you wet and wanting, you nearly shrieked at the stimulation, despite not being touched once since the elevator ride up.

“I’ll take care of you,” he breathed, a vow pledged to your skin a moment before he bit the spot he blessed. His thighs nudged your thighs apart, but he didn’t sink in the way you thought he would. Instead, he kept his hand where it was, teasing your slick entrance and barely brushing over your clit. You whined a little, unable to control yourself. “Poor little kitten, we haven’t been neglecting you so much as to make you forget your manners, have we?” He asked, a hand coming up to circle tight around your throat. It made your blood sparkle with need.

“No, Daddy,” you whispered hoarsely, watching his fiery eyes go darker at the sound of how wrecked you already were. “I can behave.”

“I know you can.” He kissed you softly, on the cheek. “But Fennec is going to make sure for me.”

The moment his hand left your throat, a smaller, cooler one replaced it, squeezing tighter where Boba’s hand had sat broader across it. A sharp nip to your shoulder told you exactly who had joined you, because your brain hadn’t really been processing everything that had been going on.

Then Boba’s tongue touched your clit, and all thoughts were back to being off the table. At the same time, he pushed a thick finger into you, meeting no resistance but a flutter of your walls around him, welcoming him back home. Fennec’s hand punned you to the bed, keeping you flat so you couldn’t see what Boba was doing. The restriction was tantalizing and distracting enough to let Boba push another finger into you, not quite a stretch with how active you’d all been.

“Think she needs more?” Boba asked, and you could hear Din hum from somewhere around where Boba’s voice was coming from. There was a wet smack of lips, a filthy kiss, followed by a pleasured groan as Boba shared your taste with Din. Fennec’s teeth curled around the mark she was leaving in a feral smile.

“Yes,” Din panted. “Give her three. She likes the stretch.”

Oh yes, you did. Boba had the thickest fucking fingers on anyone you’d ever met, and he knew how to use them expertly. The burn in your core was barely soothed by the feeling of Boba’s tongue laving over your skin. He didn’t always focus on your clit. He would move to suck on your lips, leave a kiss here, a biting bruise there as you got used to the feeling of him filling you up.

He moved without a hurried purpose, not like when he wanted to get you ready to fuck you. He stretched you open just for the pure pleasure of pleasuring you. Fennec’s teeth and bites even dulled to lips and kisses when she sensed you going under, getting softer and sweeter in the way they loved to get you. Even the burn of the fingers inside you faded to a distant throb, your orgasm muted yet all-consuming at the same time. You registered yourself curling into Boba’s side, three arms settling over top of you as you came back from the stratosphere.

##

When the three around you finally feel you fall asleep, they sigh in relief. So many times, you would hardly wait for the afterglow to fade before hopping up and finding your place in the project you had been distracted from. The trio share a wordless conversation of worried, tense expressions and shared looks. Who knows how long you’d stay asleep?

Deciding to make the most of it, Din extricated himself, as he was on the outside and could slip away easiest, returning with a few warm cloths to clean everyone up. Fennec disappeared for a minute while Din carefully cleaned your face, clearing it of smeared and ruined makeup and fluids alike.

He knew the difference between bruises and smudged mascara, and left the former to bloom. He knew you liked to trace the shapes of their hands and love when you thought no one was looking. The truth was that there was always someone looking.

And when you eventually did sneak out of bed with nothing but a guilty backwards glance an hour or two later, one set of eyes watched you leave, and the mind behind them planned a new project of their own.

#boba fett x din djarin x fennec shand x reader #boba fett x reader #din djarin x fennec shand #f!reader #unhingery #pedro pascal fanfiction #mesh network #din djarin x reader #boba fett/reader #din djarin/reader #fennec shand x reader #fennec shand/reader

[djarincore]

To Touch Darkness

summary: Din is possessed by the darksaber, forcing all of his darkest fears and deepest desires to manifest in a way that threatens to consume you.

pairing: haunted!din djarin x f!reader

word count: 4.8k

warnings: dark, dubcon, biting, blood, oral (f and m receiving), hair pulling, rough sex, overstimulation, possessive behavior, name calling, dirty talk, breeding kink, breath play, degradation, unprotected PIV, manhandling, mainly smut, please read tags carefully and do not read if anything could be potentially triggering!

a/n: there's something so sexy about an emotionally closed off man who gets possessed and all those locked up feelings surface in the worst way possible and he becomes obsessed with his desire hehe

There was something wrong with Din.

You wanted to believe in logical explanations. Grogu was gone, training with Luke Skywaker and shrinking your clan of three to two before you could process your goodbyes. The Razor Crest was ashes—the only home the two of you had known for the years you’d been together. And Din’s creed was broken, leaving him an apostate with an uncertain future. Not to mention he was now in possession of an incredibly powerful weapon, the darksaber, and he didn’t even want the responsibility of its power. 

The world was crashing down around him; it made sense for him to change. 

But, you were wrong—so very wrong.

Your slow realization began the first night without Grogu. The two of you had gone back to Tatooine with Boba Fett and Fennec Shand, finding an inn to stay at before planning your next moves. 

Exhausted, as you laid on your side in bed together, his bare hands wandered over your skin, hot and needy, his mouth trailing down your neck in search of the spot that made you melt beneath him. He knew it well, having spent hours ravishing you in the dark of his bunk long before Grogu was ever in your lives.

You craned your neck to face him with a frown. Maybe now wasn’t the best time; after all, you both just lost a son. “Din, I don’t think-”

With better access, his lips sealed yours in a passionate and frenzied kiss as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pants. 

“Need you,” he grunted, yanking your pants down along with your underwear, “Now.” 

“But, Din,” you attempted to protest, but it died on your lips when his hand pulled your thighs apart and another wrapped around your waist. His rough palm came in contact with your clit and a finger ran up your folds. You shuddered and gasped when he ground his palm against your clit, urging you to grind against it. You could feel him growing stiff against your ass as he rutted against you. 

It was unlike him to be so desperate; Din was all about calm and collected control. When the two of you were in bed together he would never fully lose himself to his desires, a part of him always held back, too afraid to hurt you. His hands would only ghost the column of your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh of your skin but never sinking in and taking what he wanted. 

But, you were tempted by that locked up part of himself, by what he could do and how well he could ruin you if he’d just give in. 

Both your emotions were running high from your newfound loss; you slowly allowed yourself to succumb to the pleasure he offered to forget your feelings for a night. 

Din turned you on your back and his lips returned to your neck, trailing down the slope and through the valley of your breasts. You moaned when his tongue ran over your nipple, building it up to its peak and then moving on to the next, teasing lightly with his teeth. 

His finger worked over your clit, massaging circles around it until you were writhing and soaked. He cursed as he stuffed two fingers into you without warning, curling his fingers in your heat. “So tight ‘n wet for me.”

You cried out, shocked by the sudden feeling of fullness. You weren’t quite used to how rough he was being, the words he spoke. As much as you loved his praise and gentle whispers, you couldn’t deny how wet you became from hearing the rasp in his voice or the way he commanded your body with rough touches. 

You shifted your hips to adjust to his fingers, but he clawed down on your thighs, forcing you open. 

“Stay still,” he growled. 

You struggled to comply. Hips jerked in response to his thick fingers pushing and pulling through your slick heat. You whimpered his name, curling your fingers around his bicep. You could feel the tension in your belly building. 

Din huffed, his fingers slipped out of you and he manhandled you onto your stomach, propping you up and ready for him. 

Your eyes widened. He never liked taking you in this position, said it was too impersonal. He always wanted to see you, kiss you, watch as your face twisted with pleasure, to see your eyes open again and know they were filled with love. 

He leaned over, pressing himself against your pulsing heat, allowing you to feel just how badly he wanted you. He whispered low in your ear, rough and heated, “What’d I say, mesh’la?” 

“S-Sorry,” you panted, pushing against his cock. You were throbbing, aching to be filled again and again. 

“Think you can take me yet?” 

You only nodded into the pillows, too distracted by the rustling of his pants sliding off and being discarded somewhere in the corner of the room. His thick cock dragged against your entrance, soaking in arousal.

“I need an answer,” he demanded, pulling your face from the pillows. He cradled your jaw. The tips of his fingers trailed down to brush against the column of your throat. 

“Yes! Please, Din,” you begged, pushing your aching cunt against him. 

When he slid in, molding you around his cock, you clung to the pillow and moaned. He grunted once he was all the way in, already pressing against that perfect spot that made your entire body tremble. He just knew your body all too well and when he began grinding into you just the way you liked, you nearly fell apart with a cry.

“Such a good girl,” he groaned when you opened around him, adjusting his grip tighter on your hips to control you. His thrusts started shallow, allowing you to adjust to his size, until you begged for more. “Ready, cyare?” 

“Yes, please, I need it,” you mewled, rocking your hips back. 

The first heavy thrust nearly pushed you against the headboard. He continued at that pace, drilling into your tight cunt. The slick dripping between your thighs was messy and your walls fluttered around him, pulling him deeper until he was groaning and snapping his hips harder. 

You swore you were going to break. The angle was different; he was pressing against you in all the right places, filling you to the brim. The building pleasure in your stomach grew and grew. His hand wandered away from pressing bruises into your hip and brushed against your swollen clit. 

You jerked away with a pitiful yelp, but his other hand held you down, moving from your hip to the back of your neck once again, pressing your face into the pillows.

“You’re okay,” he soothed. “Doing so well for me.”

“Ah, Din, feels so good,” you whimpered, sinking deeper and deeper under the waves of pleasure as his finger continued moving on your clit, sending strong pulses throughout your body. It rocked you to the very core until you threatened to snap. 

The fingers around your neck pressed gently, reminding you he was there, completely in control of your pleasure. The added pressure only served to bring you closer to your climax. 

“Close?” 

“Mhm,” you managed through your breathless pants.

With a few more thrusts of his hips, you shattered completely with a sharp cry, squeezing his cock until he followed soon after. You rode your highs together, his chest against your back and his mouth to your ear, whispering praises. 

As you eased yourself onto your stomach, Din slipped out but continued to hover over you, ghosting fingers up and down your spine to soothe you. 

“Did I hurt you?” His concern and guilt took over his exhaustion. Two hands roamed your body, tracing the marks and bruises he created. 

You cut off his on coming apology, “I’m fine, Din. I-I actually liked it.”

“Really?” His fingers pressed into your skin. “Are you sure?”

You laughed, turning over to grab his head and pull him down, attacking him with a flurry of kisses all over his face. “I’ll say it one more time—I’m fine, Din.”

Din pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, cradling your cheek in his palm. “You won’t leave, right?”

Your brows furrowed. It was a sudden question, but you had a feeling you knew what brought it out. “No, Din.”

A shadow passed over his eyes, so quickly you swore you imagined it. 

“You’re mine?” 

Your worry faded into a chuckle. “Last time I checked, we’re married. Of course, I’m yours forever.”

Din pulled you into his chest, an arm draped over your waist, his fingers pressing into your back. He peppered kisses over each splotch of color along your neck. He was clearly satisfied with your answer. 

As you drifted off, you faintly heard a whisper.

“Mine forever.”

Din’s behavior only declined after that night. He rarely allowed you to leave his side or wander too far out of sight, claiming it was better this way, safer. 

Who knew what kind of enemies he had made after capturing Moff Gideon? There were people after him; they were enemies shrouded in shadow and ghostly whispers he couldn’t explain, but they were there—he was sure of it. 

And the only place you could be safe was by his side as he viciously tore his enemies apart. Bounties were no longer given the choice to be taken in alive. 

You witnessed Din slice a man’s hand off with the darksaber simply because he grabbed your hand as he begged for his life. And when you asked him why he’d done that, he only shrugged and polished off the darksaber’s hilt. 

“He touched what’s mine.”

His words burrowed into your skin for weeks to come.

Mine. Mine. Mine. 

Every time he held the darksaber you wanted to shy away. The ominous glow surrounding its dark void pulled you into its haze and clouded your rational thoughts. 

His words were no longer spoken with adoration and devotion—there was only obsession. He needed you, craved you so desperately. His frenzied hunger consumed you every night. He was rough, needy, as if every second you weren’t wrapped around his cock would turn him into a starved beast. You were never without splotches coloring your skin, never without his touch burning onto every inch of your body. 

And you craved him all the same, falling into his arms when he opened them. The need was insatiable, almost painful. To be without him created an ache deep in your heart, a pounding in your skull, and throbbing desire for him to be buried in your weeping cunt. 

So, you continued to follow him because you loved him and needed him. 

He often talked about Mandalore, not just when it came to bathing in its waters to be redeemed but reclaiming it, becoming its rightful ruler. You didn’t understand where the desire came from. He was so adamant about giving the darksaber to Bo-Katan after winning it from Gideon, not wanting anything to do with the responsibility.

His determination led the two of you to find the Armorer, hoping she’d give him the support and guidance he needed. When you ended up on Glavis, where the Armorer and Paz set up a new forge, you were glad to see them. 

It almost felt normal. For the past six months all you knew was Din. Seeing familiar faces brought back a sort of clarity in your mind; the world was more than just Din.  

That night you laid with Din in a bed offered by the Armorer in the new covert. You stayed up, haunted by your thoughts. Your recurring dreams, more like nightmares, were plagued with panic and danger, blood and death. 

The nightmares started after Din’s change in character and always surrounded him, whether it was him washed in the blood of his enemies or lying in a pool of his own. 

Fresh air would do you well. You had to untangle yourself from Din’s arms. Carefully, you slipped his arm off and rolled yourself out of his grasp, replacing your body with a pillow. He didn’t stir and you crept out of the room without a sound. 

You hated stumbling around in the dark. Before things with Din began to change, you had no problem with it, but now it felt suffocating to be trapped in the darkness. 

The new covert was smaller, made up of narrow walkways with no railing. One small misstep and you’d tumble over into the abyss. A small part of you wanted to turn back, stay with Din where it was safer, where he could protect you, but that thought shrunk the longer you walked down the familiar path toward the forge. 

The light in the room beckoned you inside. Paz was sitting on a bench cleaning a few blasters with a rag. 

“Come in,” he invited, not taking his focus away from his task. 

You slipped into the room and sat on a bench situated against the wall. 

“Trouble sleeping?” He asked.

“Sort of,” you said. It was odd to be alone after so long by Din’s side. You almost felt empty. 

After a long silence, Paz finally spoke.

“The darksaber is dangerous,” he spat. “The apostate should have never brought it here. It craves power and control. It draws strength from fear and desire.”

You sat, dumbstruck. You felt a moment of clarity, something you hadn’t felt in weeks. Were you truly so blind to the darksaber’s influence over your mind and body? But it all made sense—the lust, the possessiveness. The darksaber was to blame. 

You missed Din, the man he used to be and the life you had. 

“There has to be a way to help him, right? We can take it away, destroy it,” you spouted off. 

Your speech was growing frenzied, your mind desperately raced for solutions to fix a problem you didn’t understand. 

“We have to help him,” you begged. You stood and rushed to Paz, grabbing his arm. “Please-”

“What’s going on here?” 

Din appeared like a ghost at the edge of the shadowed doorway. Darkness seemed to consume his outline, pulling him further into the abyss. 

You slipped your hands from Paz’s arm and stepped away, afraid of what Din might do if you clung to him longer. The sound of the darksaber igniting and echoing screams rang in your ear.

“Nothing,” you were quick to say, but Paz thought differently. 

“You’ve changed.”

Din’s low, dark chuckle made your shoulders tense. Confidence seeped in his stance, his posture lax and head cocked. “Have I?” 

“You scare your own riduur, brother.”

“She’s not scared.” 

Paz stepped in front of you, shielding you behind his large body. “You do not get to decide that.”

With your face no longer in his sight, the confidence slipped into rage. “Stay away from her,” Din growled. 

Paz shifted his feet, igniting his vambrace shield. The tension began to rise as both men reached for their weapons.   

“Din, stop,” you demanded, stepping from behind Paz. You didn’t want bloodshed—you just wanted him to be free. “We just want to help you.”

“Come here,” Din commanded. 

The feeling was undeniable. The heavy push toward him forced your feet toward him. Though your mind wanted to fight it, your eyes gravitated toward the darksaber clutched in his fist. It screamed and called for you, distorted and clear all at the same time. 

“Din,” you begged, as if his name would be enough to rid him of the darksaber’s curse. 

“I did not ask.”

Like metal grinding against metal, a trilling noise reverberated in your skull, calling you to him with more than just words. 

“You do not deserve that weapon nor your riduur.” 

Paz’s harsh words were enough to push Din into igniting the darksaber. A pitch black saber with a glow of white and a hollow ringing as it raised, the sight brought a tremble in your legs. The confrontation would only end one way if you didn’t defuse it. 

“They belong to me.”

It was like Din’s voice was not his own. 

“The darksaber was forged by my ancestors. It does not belong in the hands of an apostate.”

“Then come get it.” 

The threat was evident in his words. A new challenge for the darksaber was approaching, one that would only end in death to mark the true keeper of its power. 

Paz stepped forward. The ringing became louder, unbearable. 

“Stop!” You threw yourself in the middle, arms outstretched. “That’s enough!”

You carefully stepped toward Din, hoping your wavering smile would make him sheath the darksaber and forget Paz’s words. “Let’s go to bed, okay?”

Din grabbed your arm and tugged you away. When Paz stepped forward again to follow, you stuck your hand out to shoo him away. He had the best intentions, but you didn’t want to see him dead.

When Din returned the darksaber to his belt, the ringing didn’t stop. You wanted to run, but you wouldn’t leave Din to be consumed by the darksaber’s influence. 

Din dragged you back to your bedroom; the silence was tense. His grip around your arm burned and he squeezed until you let out a whimper. “He’s turning you against me, trying to take what’s mine.”

He threw open the door and pulled you inside, kicking the door shut behind him. 

“It wasn’t like that,” you whined, clawing at his hand. Maker, your head was pounding. “He only wanted to help.”

“Help?” He scoffed. His other hand came to grip your jaw, his nails digging into your cheek, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “Don’t fucking lie to me. Just admit you want to leave me too,” he all but roared.

It was fear speaking. His hand trembled as he held you. Like a caged tiger lashing out. 

Your eyes burned as both of his grips tightened. “No,” you managed to squeeze out of your puckered lips. “Never.”

“Prove it.” He released you with a shove, sending you tumbling to the floor, and sat on the bed. He began to unbuckle his pants. 

You stared at him wide eyed, slightly dazed from the fall. He was never this rough or demanding, even when he was buried deep inside your cunt, taking you over every flat surface available.  

“Don’t sit there and look dumb.” 

His words brought you back. Your legs clenched and shame flooded through you. 

It wasn’t right. You were supposed to be convincing him to get rid of the darksaber, not getting aroused when he threw you around with impressive strength. 

Your head was screaming; the pounding against your skull made you fear something would burst out of it. You couldn’t focus. 

You needed to…

Your hands were on him. You freed his cock easily and got to work without a second thought. You just wanted to—needed to—please him. 

Stroking his thick cock with your hand, your thumb brushed over the weeping tip and smeared pearls of precum over him. You felt saliva begin to pool on your tongue as you leaned forward to take him into your mouth. Your lips wrapped around his cock, taking as much as you could until you reached halfway. You stroked the rest of him with your hand. 

“That’s it,” he sighed, a hand reaching to press against your skull to guide you. 

Your head bobbed, tasting the saltiness of him on your tongue. You moaned when evidence of your arousal began seeping into your panties. You attempted to shift your hips and angle your heel against your core to give yourself some stimulation. Your clit rubbed against your heel, a weak pressure but managed to send a shudder through you. 

When Din sensed you were more interested in getting yourself off, he forced you down his cock until you choked. Tears pooled in your eyes as you tried not to gag. Your hand clawed at his hip, begging for air. 

“Take it,” he ordered, his voice nothing but a harsh bite. He could feel your throat fluttering around him perfectly—a mouth made just for him.

You blinked away your tears and tried breathing through your nose. 

“You want to come so bad you’re going to fuck yourself on your heel? Heh, what a naughty little slut,” he said, clicking his tongue. 

You nearly jolted at that word, eyes widening. It was always mesh’la or cyare; on rare, gentle nights it was riduur—never slut. Your brows furrowed, but he paid no mind.

His hand guided you along his length, deep and quick. His breaths came ragged as he used you. He pulled you off at the height of his pleasure, biting back a groan. 

“Get up,” he demanded.

You gripped the bed for support as you stood on weak legs before his seated figure. The throbbing in your core grew stronger when his hands came to slide up your waist, beneath your shirt, to cup your breast, running both thumbs over your hardening nipples. 

“This is mine,” Din rasped, pinching one of your nipples until you yelped. Another hand trailed down, slipping into your panties and cupping your leaking cunt. “And this is mine. Every fucking inch of you belongs to me.”

He dragged a single digit through your folds, gathering your arousal on his finger before dipping into your warmth. Your hands flew to grip his shoulder pauldrons when he began moving his finger and grinding his palm against your clit. 

“There is no running from me,” he growled. He ripped his hands from your body and stood in a mass of intimidating silver armor. “I’ll make sure you remember that. Take your clothes off.” 

You were pushed on the bed before you could blink and Din was removing the rest of his armor and clothes. Each plate clashed against the floor, the sound of anticipation. You followed his orders, quickly shedding off your clothes, revealing yourself to the cold night air.

By the time you were naked, his helmet was all that was left. He revealed his face, finally. The eyes you loved were void of any emotion other than lust. Dark eyes scanned your body as he stalked toward you and slipped onto the bed. 

Laying flat on your back, you awaited his next demands. It would be wise to listen. There was no telling what kind of beast you’d unlock with one wrong move, yet you were shamefully eager to discover it. 

When he knelt between your legs, devouring your glistening pussy with his starving eyes, he pushed your legs wider, bending your knees up toward your chest. 

Din lowered himself onto the bed without tearing his gaze from your cunt. He wet his lower lip before kissing along your inner thigh.

“Stay.” Was his only command before he dove into your sweet cunt. He dragged his flat tongue slow up your slit and against your clit. 

You held onto your trembling legs, pulling yourself open for him, as he delved into your folds. He devoured you, using his hands to spread your lips wider as he fucked you with his tongue, eating you like he was starving. 

You clawed at your knees, trying to keep your legs open, as breathless pants slipped through your lips. Your orgasm was approaching fast and if he didn’t let up or give you a break, you’d come all over his face. 

Maybe that’s what he planned. Once he began to rub your sensitive clit, ignoring your whines, you knew it was over. 

“Ngh, Din,” you gasped, giving up on holding your legs when the overwhelming rush of your impending orgasm flooded you. Your legs locked around his head, fingers tugging his hair as your hips moved to reach your high. 

“That’s right,” he moaned into your cunt, encouraging you to ride his face further, clawing your thighs. 

You met your peak with a sharp cry, grinding against his face as his tongue lapped up your release. His hunger was insatiable; he cleaned any drop of your arousal that leaked from your cunt. When he finally emerged, he swiped his thumb over the corners of his mouth and sucked that off as well. 

“No one else can make you feel like this, huh?” 

You caught your heaving breath. “No one.”

Hands slotting beneath your knees, Din spread you open once again. Your body was still shuddering, sensitive, when he slotted himself between your legs. His cockhead caught against your opening and you groaned, still twitching from the aftershocks of your orgasm, “W-Wait, Din.”

“Quiet,” he growled, grabbing your neck. His hand squeezed, cutting off your breath, leaving no room for any more argument. 

The usual loving gaze he kept was gone, gentle hands and loving gestures, replaced by something darker—a locked away desire bubbling to the surface. 

You hated how much his voice and his complete control made your body tremble. You needed him to satisfy you.

He entered you without another warning, forcing himself into your cunt despite the resistance of your tight walls. He didn’t give you the chance to adjust to his thick cock filling you. 

You yelped, clawing at his arm. The lack of oxygen and his rapid thrusts made your mind spin. There was nothing but Din as darkness crept into your vision—it would only be him forever. 

“Gonna fuck a new baby into you,” he grunted. 

That would have given you pause if you weren’t so caught up in bliss, trapped in the haze of pleasure he gave you. You only moaned, words were lost to you, your tongue nothing but a heavy mass.

“You want that, don’t you?” He cooed, “To be swollen with my kid. You’d never be able to leave my side.”

He released your neck and you gasped for air, grateful with each breath you could gulf down. His hand slid down your chest until he reached your stomach and pressed down; he could feel the bulge of his cock moving inside you. 

“Right here. Feel that?” 

The pressure from his hand brought tears to your eyes. He was relentless—he fucked you until you cried, helpless under his strength. Your body was nothing but a doll for him to break and mold beneath his touch.

Your sobs were silenced by his lips, rough and heady, devouring every gasp and cry. You tasted blood, felt the sting of your lower lip from where he bit. Din trailed kisses and sucked marks onto your neck as you writhed beneath the attention you were too weak to deny.

His hand slid lower, his thumb grazing your sensitive clit. You came without warning, arching into his thrusts and clawing at his back with a sob. 

He continued, unphased by your cunt clenching around him, allowing you to ride out your high to the point of almost painful overstimulation. 

Your chest heaved, begging for a break he would not offer. Your legs fell limp against the bed. “C-Can’t,” you choked.

It was too much, too sensitive. And when he hit that perfect, spongy spot inside you, your back arched with a violent cry escaping you.

“You can take it,” he encouraged, hands slipping beneath your thighs to push them to your chest, spreading you wider and letting him go deeper. “You’re gonna be good for me, yeah?”

All you could do was nod through his punishing movements as he worked closer and closer to his release. He muttered breathless promises until they trailed off into nothing but grunts and groans.

“Give me another one.” 

“Maker, I could stay buried in you forever.”

He was lost, taking all the pleasure for himself as you laid there whimpering, twisting your hands around the sheets or running them down his back. You ached all over, but you could feel another climax building, twisting inside you. 

Din cursed, the harsh groan came before he sank his teeth into your shoulder. You weren’t sure if you screamed or not, too consumed by your orgasm and him filling you. Your hands desperately clawed down his back the deeper his teeth dug. 

“D-Din,” you stuttered weakly, eyes falling heavy under the pain; your face twisted. 

He let you go after his teeth made their mark on your skin, a sign for anyone else foolish enough to challenge him for you. He pulled your limp figure close to his chest and held you in his arms until your breath evened. 

You were fading, succumbing to your exhaustion and his warm embrace. Though there was a thought floating around in your meddled brain, something important. 

Din shifted inside you, not pulling out yet. You could feel the mixture of your cum stuffed inside of you and slowly leaking between your legs. It was just the two of you, lost in the aftershocks of your orgasms. 

Whatever the problem was, it must not have been important if you couldn’t remember—it could be dealt with…eventually…you just…wanted to…sleep. 

Lulled by the sound of vibrations, like a strange ringing, you slipped into a deep slumber, wrapped in Din’s arms, and were pulled into darkness. 

Nothing was wrong. 

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin smut #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x reader smut #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction

[saradika]

STAR WARS - 2023 FIC RECS

this year has been filled with so many beautiful fics, I wanted to make a rec list to share & support everything I read. please check these out and support these creators, they are all incredible! 💖✨

ANAKIN/VADER X F!READER

— Breathe Me In by @moonlight-prose

the jedi fell and darth vader rose to power, but there’s a secret he hides even from his own master.

— When Midnight Calls by @ladyxskywalker

anakin steps into the refresher, noticing how you left the door open for him, the steam filling the room inside from the misty hot water.

AXE WOVES X F!READER

— The Lady and the Merc by @flightlessangelwings

“The pleasure,” the leader took your hand, but instead of shaking it, he brought it up to his lips and kissed the back of it tenderly, “Is all mine,” he gave you a wink as you felt your skin burn under his touch, “And call me Axe Woves.”

BRASSO X F!READER

— Steadfast by @uwingdispatch

He pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead before pulling back to look at you in that way only he could, with those bright eyes. “I think we should stay,” he said.

BOBA FETT X F!READER

— Be With Me by @imarvelatthestars

"It's late," he says.

— Boba Fett is in Love With You by @janghoefett

He’s known for some time now.

— Ex Libris by @daimyosprincess

There's much to be learned from the handsome professor Boba Fett, both about yourself and your pleasure.

— Kinktober Day Five: Virginity by @sinfulsalutations

You’ve never felt this small before.

— No Mercy by @daimyosprincess

Fennec Shand is many things, markswoman, assassin, the daimyo’s right hand, but merciful is not one of them. That's why she's the only one Boba Fett trusts to take care of you when he's away.

— Sound Asleep by @moodymisty

You swore you hadn’t had a nightmare since your childhood years; But even then, you couldn’t remember one like this.

— Small Favors by @daimyosprincess

The day Boba Fett called you a hellion, you were pretty certain it altered your brain chemistry.

— The App by @maybege

The App tells you who your perfect match is. But when Josh, your perfect-match-alpha, introduces you to his boss, you start to realise that the numbers are not always right.

DARTH MAUL X F!READER

— Dread by @bits-and-babs

a strange creature visits your dreams, promising to satiate a yearning body he heard call to him across the force. |  incubus!maul

— Serenity by @eloquentmoon

lord maul interrupts your nighttime stroll in the woods

ELIA KANE X F!READER

— Eat Your Young by @imarvelatthestars

It's the way she looks at you that does you in, the blatant hunger that glints in Elia's eyes, the knowledge that she always has you just within reach and that you'll always fall for her time and again. 

GALEN ERSO X READER

— I Didn't Know The Time by @ladyxskywalker

an unseasonable rain causes an unexpected shift in your new year’s plans, but, as it turns out, both of you wouldn’t have it any other way

GRAND ADMIRAL THRAWN X F!READER

— Amuse Bouche by @bits-and-babs

A state dinner leaves the Grand Admiral wanting far more than was offered.

— Show of Good Faith by @bits-and-babs

grand admiral thrawn has a unconventional way of convincing neighbouring planets to pledge allegiance to the empire.

KINO LOY X F!READER

— I Want You to Show Me Weak by @tarabyte3

You're pretty sure Kino Loy hates you. He screams at you, grabs you, and shoves you against the wall, and it's becoming a problem because, well...it shouldn't fluster you as much as it does.

— Ownership of Mine by @amywritesthings

The Empire has integrated their prison systems, with you as one of the few women now incarcerated at Narkina 5. The unit manager takes you under his wing – but for reasons you didn’t anticipate.

OBI-WAN X F!READER

— Dust to Dust by @avarkriss

A generous gift bestowed upon a very pretty desert hermit

—Kinktober Day 5: Table Sex by @flightlessangelwings

“You wished to see me, Lord Kenobi?” you asked from the doorway to his office where you stood at attention.

— Serve My Worries Away by @friskynotebook

In which Obi-Wan gets in a fight with a printer and the printer wins.

— Sweetend Craving by @moonlight-prose

“he’d want the last thing he ever heard to be the sound of you tipping over the edge, falling into a bliss you both craved.”

— What’s The Harm? by @obixwan

Quinlan set Obi-Wan up with a friend and now, Obi-Wan can’t help himself.

POE DAMERON X GN!READER

— Because You Left by @againstacecilia

“What happened? With us?” / “We just… Grew apart. That’s all.” / “No, I don’t think that’s it. Not entirely.”

THE CLONES X F!READER

— Better Than The Universe by @sinfulsalutations

Rex enjoys the mindlessly affection-filled morning he deserves

— Kinktober Day 15 by @samspenandsword

Overstimulation with Daddy Rebels!Rex

— Keep In The Heat by @sinfulsalutations

Wrecker is cold. His girl knows a solution

— Return To Sender by @keravnos-kori

halla has been alone for the past three years. as it turns out, relocating to coruscant and attending a prestigious university hasn’t been as glamorous as she originally expected - but when a new opportunity comes along for her to prove the republic’s injustices committed against clone troopers, she might get more than she bargained for when the power structure suddenly collapses and is replaced by something far more sinister…

— Strategies in Fliration by @floral-force

When you take a risk and join your friends for a night out, a handsome stranger sets his eyes on you. You boldly approach him and ask him what war tactics he has in his arsenal. | captain rex

— Sweet Thing by @starrylothcat

Wrecker has a crush on you, a local sweet shop owner. Will he find the courage to ask you out? 

— Some Rex and Relaxation by @daimyosprincess

After a hard week, Rex makes it his mission to see that you forget all about it.

— The Coffee Shop by @samspenandsword

You own a coffee house on Coruscant famed for its especially strong and rare brews. One day, you find yourself meeting the Marshal Commander for the Coruscant Guard.

if you haven’t read these, you need to! and please support these amazing fics & writers by reading, reblogging & commenting! 💕

#fan fic recs #fic recs #please support these creators! #boba fett x reader #captain rex x reader #obi wan x reader #darth maul x reader

[fandom-friday]

PART 1 OF 2 (FICS ONLY)

Thank you so much to everyone that submitted recommendations this week! There was SO MUCH content, I have to split this week's summary into two parts! A comprehensive list of this week’s fic submissions can be found under the cut! Recommendations are organized by show/media, and any main pairings will be listed after the title.

✨ = 18+ content 🪐 = contains spoilers of a currently running show

Fics:

The Clone Wars: ✨ Rooftop Reunion (Commander Fox x f!Reader) by @wings-and-beskar ✨ Sweet True Lies (Commander Fox x OC Keeda Ionza) by @sleepingsun501 I Fits I Sits (Captain Rex x OC Mira) by @kimiheartblade Cyare (Clone Trooper Sister x f!Reader) by @imarvelatthestars It Happened Quiet by @mercurydancer An Unexpected Chance by @mercurydancer For This Republic I Will Bleed by @captora

The Bad Batch: ✨Stars Beyond Number (Echo x Riyo Chuchi, Gregor x OC Cerra Kilian) by @dystopicjumpsuit ✨ Exigency (Captain Howzer x f!Reader) by @the-rain-on-kamino 🪐 (TBB S3) She Walks in Starlight (Clone Trooper Sister x f!Reader) by @imarvelatthestars A Dead Traitor is a Good Traitor by @hellowkatey 🪐 (TBB S3) Revelation by RheaShay (AO3)

The Book of Boba Fett: ✨ Golden (Garsa Fwip x Fennec Shand) by @btwxsixesandsevens

Star Wars Prequel Trilogy: Shattered Sunrise (Mace Windu x OC Danica Morrow) by @pickleprickle Sahuldeem by @inonibird Agwe by @jedi-valjean

Batman: Home Is Where the Heart Is by LittleLadybugs (AO3) The Lone Ranger Never Had To Deal With Bruce Wayne by @theskeptileptic Your Hands Are To Loud by BatFamily_shenanigans (AO3) Have We Met Before? by @lulurythmea Soft Robin, Sleepy Robin, Little Ball of Trauma by @iselsis Surprise by Racoonwriter (AO3) Patty Cake, Patty Cake, My Brother Ran Away by That_Hippie_Chick (AO3) Play it Again by @jazz020 The Cold (My Burning Promise) by BlueKappa (AO3) Brotherly Wisdom by @olivia-anderson-fanfic Late by breathingsentences (AO3) Not Him by @animemangasoul

Hetalia: Axis Powers: A Matter of Time by @cultureandseptember A Matter of Course by @cultureandseptember TELL ME A PIECE OF YOUR HISTORY by @cultureandseptember

Crossover AUs: Tanjiro & Kagome: A Taishō-Heisei Friendship (Demon Slayer X InuYasha Crossover) by Splashpointparabox (AO3) Life Anew (Batman X Detroit: Become Human Crossover) by BrickSheep (AO3) Steer Yourself (Any Direction You Choose) (The Clone Wars X The Murderbot Diaries Crossover) by antonomasia09 (AO3) The Five Tenets That Mandalorians Must Follow (and the One Thing Worth Breaking Them For) (The Mandalorian X The Murderbot Diaries Crossover) by @urisarang

#ff weekly summary #fic recs

[flightlessangelwings]

What Was Unspoken, And What We Finally Said

Din Djarin x fem!reader

Word count-3.6k

Warnings- s.mut (18+ ONLY!), sexworker reader (respectfully), mutual pining, reader is said to have been with both men and women but her sexuality is up to you, unprotected sex, hj, finering, oral (f receiving), protective!Din, soft!Din, feelings, no description of reader other than body parts and no use of y/n

Notes- This is part a bonus Valentines fic and part a thank you for 5,000 followers fic! I would have liked to do a full follower celebration but since I'm low on writing time lately, I'm doing 2 gift fics for y'all instead. I just want to say thank you each and every one of you for following and supporting me all these years!

Since this is Star Wars, I looked up if there was anything like Valentine's Day and while there isn't one canonically, there is a "Lover's Day" that the fandom kinda agreed is equivalent so I used that here but it can be read any time of year since it's Star Wars and we can say it's any time lol! Enjoy!

@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so please also follow that and turn on post notifs to stay up to date on when I post new things!

~

You were exhausted.

If you were honest, you weren’t even sure what day it was… or even what time of day at all. Things had never been busier at the brothel the last couple days, and you weren’t sure why. Especially today it was back to back clients for you. The extra credits were nice, and much needed, but by the Maker were you wiped out. But it wasn’t all bad. The brothel you worked at was safe and respectable and the clients almost always tipped well. You even had a lengthy list of regulars, which was nice. Many of them even came by today too.

The day started with a visit from one of your favorite bounty hunters, Fennec Shand. She was usually more quiet and stoic, but today she had an air of playfulness about her, and the smirk she wore on her face made your heart flutter. Later in the day, Axe Woves came by, and seemed more flirtatious than usual. He always left you with a wink and a kiss on the back of your hand, but today he left a lingering kiss on your cheek… and extra credits in tip. 

But there was one person you looked forward to seeing more than anyone else. And he hadn’t come by in some time. 

You let out a heavy sigh as you flopped down onto the bed. Wrapping your robe around yourself, you closed your eyes as you finally got some time to rest after a busy day. Just as your body relaxed into the plush mattress and you felt yourself about to doze off, there was a knock at the door.

“Coming,” you sighed as you pushed yourself up, ready to turn away whoever was on the other side of the door. You just wanted to rest for the rest of the night. “Listen, came you come back tomor…” you froze mid word as your eyes landed on the one person you had hoped to see, “Din!” you breathed.

“Did I come at a bad time?” he asked, tilting his helmeted head to the side, “I had a bounty in the area and I thought I would come by.” Since it’s been awhile, he thought to himself, and I missed you.

“No, no,” you ushered him inside before he could walk away, “Come in.”

The Mandalorian walked past you, entering the room while you closed and locked the door, “Everything alright?” he asked, noticing the exhaustion in your voice.

“Fine,” you replied as you crossed the room and sat down, motioning for him to sit next to you, “It’s just been really busy here the last couple days. Not sure why,” you shrugged. 

“Want me to come back another time?” he asked plainly, his tone hiding his true disappointment especially after having not seen you in so long. Din truly looked forward to the days when he could come by the brothel and spend time with you.

“I think I can muster up some energy for my favorite client,” you replied with a flirty wink. It took everything you had to not sound like you desperately wanted him to stay, and even if you couldn’t even pull yourself off the bed you would do it for him.

Din tilted his head to the side slightly as a soft amused huff escaped his lips, “Your favorite, huh?”

You heard the smile in his voice. Biting your lip and subtly shimmying your shoulders, you closed the gap between your bodies and traced the chestplate of his beskar armor with your finger, “Don’t tell anyone else. They might get jealous,” you purred as the room started to warm around you.

Din reached in his pocket, pulling out a generous amount of credits and placed them on the nearby table before he leaned in closer to you. He cupped your face, tenderly caressing the side of your head in his gloved hand, “Your secret is safe with me.” Din gently rubbed his thumb against your cheek while his large hand cradled you softly while he pushed his body against yours.

“Din…” you breathed as your eyes fluttered shut and you allowed him to guide you back until your legs hit the bed. 

“I’ve got you,” he murmured as his hands moved down the front of your body and tugged at your robe. 

A gasp escaped your lips as the cool air hit your skin. But, you didn’t feel cool for long. Even through the darkness of his vizor, you could feel Din’s gaze on you, and you could tell he eyed you hungerly. The way his breath hitched whenever he saw you bare for him, the way his helmet tilted slightly, the way his hands gripped you just a little bit tighter… you knew all Din’s tells by now. And you craved the feeling of being under his touch.

“Beautiful,” Din sighed as he guided your body down onto the bed. He stood in awe over you for a moment as your robe fell open and framed your figure. His pants felt tighter as his cock reacted to the way you settled yourself, spreading your legs wide for him. Din let out a low groan as he tugged his gloves off. They were the only thing he ever removed, and he only ever took them off with you.

“Din,” you whispered again as the bed dipped as he hovered over you, “Let me…”

You ran your hands down his chest once more, imaging what it would feel like to feel his bare skin under your touch instead. You bit your lip when you reached the hem of his pants, and you expertly unzipped and freed his cock without letting any other sliver of skin show. You knew the trust he put in you, and you never took it for granted. You felt honored that he even trusted you with his real name- something else you held near and dear to your heart. 

Savoring the groan he let out, you stroked his length slowly. You made sure to squeeze right where he liked it, and you let out a whimper every time a louder growl escaped his lips involuntarily. But you let out another whine when you felt his thick fingers cupping your pussy, and you mewled when Din pushed them inside you.

Pumping his fingers to the same rhythm as you stroked his cock, your moans harmonized with his grunts as you both prepped the other. Heavy breaths filled the room as you fought to keep your eyes open and locked on his vizor. Din rested his helmeted forehead against yours as he thrust his fingers deeper inside you, causing you to cry out louder. But, being a professional, you kept your wits about you and squeezed his cock harder in response.  

Din groaned and let out an amused laugh, “Are you ready for me, mesh’la?” he cooed.

“Always,” you whispered back with a smirk of your own.

Another short huff echoed from his helmet as he murmured your name and pulled his fingers out of you. At the same time, you let go of his cock, your hand brushed against his as he reached for it to line himself up with your pussy. The two of you froze for a moment as your gazes met, and for a breath, time felt like it stopped.

A whirlwind of emotions ran through both of you as you stared at each other. It was as if you could both sense the other had something to say, and if you both had a secret you kept buried. Yet, it remained unspoken between the two of you. Your mouth dropped open and a deep breath escaped your lips, like you were about to put into words what neither of you would say.

Before you could, though, Din thrust his hips forward, driving his cock into you in one swift movement. Your head dropped down into the bed as you let out a loud, obscene moan as you felt the familiar stretch of his cock. 

“Din!” you cried out as he reeled back and thrust forward again.

“I know,” he grunted as he felt his skin sweat underneath all the armor. You had an effect on Din that no one else did. He lost all control when it came to you, especially when he was inside you. And the way you moan with every thrust of his hips only made him come more and more undone.

You cried out in ecstasy as Din rocked in and out of you in a fast and steady rhythm. Tears filled your eyes as you clutched the sheets. He made you feel something you had never felt before. And every time Din visited you, it became harder and harder to deny your growing feelings for him.

Passions ran wild as Din picked up his pace, thrusting deep into you harder and faster. He growled from under his helmet as he felt your warmth engulf his cock. Grabbing your hips, Din gave one harsh thrust, driving his length as deep inside you as he possibly could.

The gasp you let out when he did that made his cock twitch, and Din knew neither of you would last much longer. Din kept a strong grip on you as he repeated the action, changing his thrusts to slow and deep and deliberate.

“Fuck… Din…”

“I know,” he grunted.

You moved your grip from the sheets to his arms as you clung to him for dear life. With every slow, deep thrust, you felt your climax inch closer and closer and closer until you finally spilled over the edge. With a loud scream and trembling legs, you came hard on his cock. Squeezing your inner muscles as you gushed between your bodies, wave after wave of pleasure pulsed through your body as Din continued to thrust into you, hitting your sweet spot over and over again.

With a low groan of your name, Din came right after you. He spilled himself deep inside you as he drove his cock as deep as he could once more. Din kept his pace as long as he could, riding out both your orgasms as you moaned and groaned together, clawing at each other in desperation as you did so.

After one last thrust, Din pulled out of you. He watched as you collapsed onto the bed while he regained his composure. Heavy breaths filled the room as you both came down from your highs, and Din rested himself on the bed next to you in silence. His breath hitched in his throat as you immediately rolled close to him and nested yourself comfortably against his body.

“Hey,” you breathed, breaking the silence, “Is your bounty urgent or do you want to stay for the night?”

Din let out a short laugh, “He’s frozen in carbonite,” he sounded pleased with himself, “He’s not going anywhere.”

You smirked against his beaker chestplate as his unspoken acceptance lingered in the air like a comforting blanket between the two of you. Together, you laid in silence as Din wrapped his strong arms around you. Your heart pounded at the feeling of being in his arms, and you wished that it could be like this every night. But, he was a Mandalorian bounty hunter, there was no way that was in the future for you.

Suddenly, an explosion of fireworks echoed from outside, making you gasp and jump up with fright. Din tightened his grip around you, pulling you even closer and going on high alert. The two of you looked out the window as another color firework lit up the sky in the distance. More and more fireworks continued as the show went on, and in the distance you heard a crowd ooh and ahh at the marvel of the show.

Then the realization hit you. “Maker…” you breathed as you burst into nervous laughter, “Do you know what today is, Din?”

He turned to you but said nothing.

“It’s Lover’s Day!” you laughed more to cover the nerves. You just spent the evening of Lover’s Day with Din…

He seemed to mull over for several moments, his gaze moving down before he finally said, “So it is,” Din was quiet again as he turned back to you. 

Even without seeing his face, you felt your skin warm under his gaze. Somehow, you felt all his emotions just in the way he held you, and as Din moved his hand and cupped your face your world felt like it was spinning. You savored the warmth of his touch, and you let out a deep breath as you leaned into his hand and closed your eyes contently.

“Since it’s Lover’s Day,” Din was the one who broke the silence this time, “Let me take care of you…”

“Din…”

Carefully, Din rolled your bodies so that you laid on your back while he hovered over you. Looking up at him, your breath caught in your chest and your heart fluttered as he pushed himself down and settled between your parted legs. 

You let out a whine as heat rushed through your body. All you could do was swallow hard and moan in anticipation as you watched Din lean forward so that he hovered over your exposed pussy.

He murmured something incoherent before he rested his hand on your hips, gently pinning you in place. Not wanting to let go of you, Din used the leverage of your body to tilt his helmet up while he positioned his face over your folds.

A gasp escaped your lips when you felt his breath on your skin, “Din…” you whimpered as you closed your eyes tightly.

Din growled as he licked his lips before diving into you. The cry you let out sent a jolt through his veins, and combined with tasting you, Din almost lost all his composure. “Fuck,” he groaned against you before he lapped at your cunt again.

His hips bucked against the bed as he savored the sweetness of your pussy. Din groaned into you as his hands gripped you tighter, as if he couldn’t get enough of you. And the way you moaned and cried out in pure bliss only added to the overwhelming sensations and emotions he felt.

Not having expected this, tears quickly filled your eyes and your mind and body floated in the pleasure that Din’s tongue brought you. With every lap of his tongue, you felt a shock of pleasure tingle through your veins. And it wasn’t because he physically made you feel good either. It was the act itself, Din putting himself into a vulnerable position just to lick and suck at your pussy, and doing this for you.

It had to mean something, right?

“Fuck… Din…” you whimpered as you moved your grip from the sheets to his wrists, finding just the tiny sliver of skin under his armor.

Din grunted into you as he pushed his face more against your body. His hands shifted slightly so that his fingers curled around yours, holding both your hand and your hips at the same time. As much as he wanted to murmur soft words of encouragement, to tell you to cum in his mouth, he also couldn’t tear himself away. From the first taste, Din was addicted to you, and he already knew he wanted more… Wanted you.

Your legs trembled on either side of his helmet as you felt your body warm as your climax was about to hit. Without warning, you came hard with a loud scream, arching your back off the bed and gushing into Din’s mouth as your cries of pleasure filled the room.

He slurped and sucked at your folds as he tongue hit your clit over and over again, allowing you to ride out your orgasm on his tongue. And Din greedily lapped up every drop of your release, swallowing as much of you as he could. His grip on you tightened as he moaned against your body, lapping at you until you couldn’t take any more.

With one final gasp, you flopped down limp on the bed as Din broke away from you with a huff. His helmet slid down to cover his face in one smooth motion as he sat up and licked at the corners of his mouth from under the cover of his armor.  He watched you with captivate fascination as your breasts rose and fell with your deep, heavy breaths as you recovered from your intense climax.

There were so many words on the tip of his tongue. So many things that Din wanted to tell you. The tension in the air was so thick that it almost overpowered the smell of sex in the room. Din ran his hands up and down your body, gently caressing you and letting his touch speak for him instead.

“Din,” you murmured as you broke the silence and blinked your eyes open to meet his armored figure in the low light, “I…”

He moved his hand to the side of your face, not covering your mouth but the motion itself paused your thoughts. He said nothing as he pushed himself up to your face, stopping for a moment to rest his helmeted forehead against your own. As the two of you sat like that for a few moments, he brushed your cheek with his finger tenderly. Din whispered your name as he broke away, moving his hand to cover your eyes as he did so. 

Your lips pasted with a gasp, yet you stayed still, fully trusting the Mandalorian. With your eyes covered by his large hand, your world went black. Faintly, you heard a hiss in front of you, but before you could ask what was happening, you felt something on your skin. His breath.

Din pulled his helmet up just enough to uncover half of his face. His lips felt cold as the air hit his skin, but he was instantly warmed again when he pressed his lips to yours. He swallowed the moan you let out as he kissed you for the very first time. Tightening his grip on you, Din pushed himself even closer against you, desperate to feel you as close as possible.

You surrendered yourself to him willingly. Tilting your head, you were mindful to keep your eyes covered as you deepened the kiss by parting your lips for him. Din eagerly accepted the silent invitation, and you both moaned into the other when you tased each other for the first time. The fireworks continued around you, but the only explosions either of you cared about were the ones happening between you.

“I know,” Din murmured against your lips when he reluctantly broke away from you.

You let out a deep breath against his face, and you knew he felt your smile against his skin. Din placed one last kiss on your lips, lingering on yours for several moments before he pulled away and dropped his helmet back down.

Blinking your eyes open, you grinned when you were met with the familiar silhouette in the darkness once more. A soft smile lit up your face, and it made Din’s chest tighten with the sincere look in your eyes. Just as you were about to say something, though, a knock at the door made both of you jump to attention.

Din was quick to stand and shift into attack mode. Out of pure reflex, his hand reached for his blaster, ready to protect you.

“Wait,” you grabbed his wrist with one hand as you reached for your robe with the other, “It might be another client. Hang on,” you slid the robe over your shoulders and wrapped it around you as you moved around the Mandalorian.

He didn’t stray far from you, hovering behind you as you opened the door and recognized the man who stood on the other side, “Hey, I’ve got an overnight tonight,” you told him in a kind voice, “Can you come back tomorrow? I promise I’ll leave a time open for you.”

The man stuttered as he suddenly felt nervous as the Mandalorian glared at him from over your shoulder, “Y-yeah,” he finally said, “Sure… Sorry,” he mumbled before he turned and left.

Closing and locking the door, you turned back to Din and shook your head as you grinned, “He’s a nice guy,” you explained to him, “One of my best tippers too… So please try not to scare away my source of income.”

“Sorry,” he mumbled an apology as he visibly relaxed. Din had no issue with what you did for a living, he only had your safety and best interest in mind. He had seen you mistreated once before, and while he knew it was a rarity, Din never wanted to see you hurt ever again. Especially not if he could prevent it and protect you. 

“Let’s lay down,” you said softly as you reached your hand out to him. Your heart fluttered for a moment as he took your hand and allowed you to lead him back to the bed where you both made yourselves comfortable. Din immediately pulled you in close and held you in his embrace. 

Settling down for the night, you never felt more safe than you did right now, in Din’s arms. Yawning heavily, you felt the exhaustion start to overcome you once more, and you knew soon you would be sound asleep, “Hey Din,” you muttered sleepily, “Happy Lover’s Day.”

Din’s breath hitched in his throat as you quickly started to snore softly. He looked forward to nights like this, nights with you. And it was pure coincidence that he happened to come to you on Lover’s Day. But perhaps it wasn't a coincidence. Perhaps he was meant to be here tonight… with you. As Din listened to your steady breaking while you slept, he leaned in and whispered, “Happy Lover’s Day, cyare.” 

#x reader #reader insert #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x f!reader #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal cinematic universe #the mandalorian/reader #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #din djarin x y/n #mando #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x y/n #star wars imagine

[echoedcrosshairs]

His Queen ~ Boba Fett x F Force User Reader

Summary: You and Boba use to be a thing before he fell into the Sarlacc pit and since returning he hasn’t reached out so you decided to make the first move to see if the flame still burns.

Warnings: smut, mild talk of violence, unprotected sex, PiV, dirty talk, gloved fingering (f), creampie, age gap if you squint, cockwarming, exhibitionism, jealousy, mild breeding kink if you squint, possession if you squint, regret, helmet kink, dom/sub/switch play

Word count: 6.2k

You leaned back into the large throne noting that it needed some serious pillows and padding. Two Gamorrean guards walked in with their weapons draw advancing towards you. Your lips curled in annoyance but you allowed them to come to the edge of the throne before extending your hand and making one fall before you used him as a foot rest.

"Make yourself useful, get me something to eat and tell the Great Daimyo that The Queen is here," you purred making yourself as comfortable as possible.

The other guard ran off and the one under you stayed still, it's probably been a long time since they seen a force user let alone a women who wields it like a weapon. You're kind trailed off remembering Boba and how long it had been, anger trying to boil over that he survived and didn't try to contact you or even let you know. You tilted your head back against the throne assuming the other one wasn't coming back with food. The quiet foots drew you out of your memories, you looked up to see a woman with a bright orange helmet pointing a rifle at you. You rolled your eyes but then you saw the dull shine of green beskar approaching. Your heart fluttered but you restrained yourself to keep from jumping up.

"How does my milady like the throne?" He said helmeted taking the knee before you, his hand motioning for the woman to lower her blaster, "Does the Queen request a tour?"

"New pet?" you said eyeing the woman with annoyance, she was a little older then you but definitely his type.

"No, my body guard and dear friend."

"You? Need a body guard? Tsk. Fine you may rise," you said with a small smile pulling your feet off the guard, "I am simply known as The Queen," you said offering a small courtesy to the woman, "You are?"

"Fennec Shand."

Boba walked up and took your arm in his, "You didn't answer the question about the throne," he teased.

"Pillows, lots and lots of pillows."

"Why do they call you The Queen?" Fennec asked curiously following several paces behind both of you.

"I am kind yet cruel, authoritative yet yielding, and because of this," you said moving a finger bending her rifle chamber up and then straightening it.

"A force user?" She said looking at her rifle.

"One of her many talents," Boba chipped in, "Quiet the bounty hunter, gave me a run for my credits time to time." 

"And thankfully you decided I was benevolent enough to partner up time to time," you winking holding his helmeted gaze, knowing his perfect brown eyes were staring at you, "but someone's noticeable absence has left me quiet malevolent," the softness in your face faded to an icy glare.

He pulled you closer "It might have escaped My Queens mind that I have been quiet busy."

"Getting wise in your old age," you purred, "thankfully for you it was not a crime that I could not forgive with time," you felt his gloved finger under your chin, his other hand ripping up his helmet just enough to expose his lips.

"Forgive me, My Queen. You should have known I would eventually have set every ship at my disposal to find you and bring you back to me," he said bringing your mouth to his allowing his lips to apologize, "I am sorry," he finally whispered, your name fall silently from his lips like it was the most guarded secret in the world letting his helmet fall back into place.

"So have you given up bounty hunting?" you said looking out the grand windows to the endless sand, "and the code?"

"I'm a simple man making his way through the galaxy," his whisper seemed to echo against the stone, "I'm not ready to give it all up, a man has to remain battle ready until his prime has long since faded and mine has not," he said walking again, "but this is home and where I belong now."

"I've missed you, Boba," you whispered the sentiment betraying your demonstrative cold behavior, "but how dare you say you would not come for me yourself."

"You were never far from my thoughts," he said squeezing your hand, the leather's warm embrace made you smile, "but I did have obligations here to attend to first"

You pouted, annoyed but understanding what little you knew of him now coming to rule clearing it of the spice trade and other criminal notions. "No massive fire pits?" You purred, "I'm almost disappointed however I do feel the rancor your bonded too, it almost makes up for it," you said letting your free hand trail up his arm touching the cool beskar.

"I have yet to renovate since moving in, hopefully I can have more of your input if you stay maybe a fire pit or two for old times sake although I don't think there are many enemies left to char."

"There are always enemies in the shadows, you know that well. But we'll see I am quiet the busy Queen places to see, people to kill, credits to collect."

"A Queen whose only ever been ruled by me," he whispered leaning towards your ear, "or do you need a reminder My Queen?"

"You have Mos Espa yours to rule now instead," you hissed back but he knew you liked it, Boba always knew when something suggestive landed but he would never tell you what the tell was.

You watched him give Fennec a small dismissive nod to Fennc, she offered a small bow to us before leaving. Boba grabbed your arm tighter guiding you in a new direction. The smell of a kitchen tickled your noses. The dining room was grand lined with empty tables and chairs with an ornate engraved table designed for four at the very back overlook everyone.

"A feast tonight in your honor?" He asked.

"Showing your beautiful guest off to your subjects? How bold."

"No one would dare try to steal you from me," his gloved finger traced down your cheek towards the back of your neck, grabbing it, "I'll make sure of it."

A heart beat fluttered in your lower extremities pulling with excitement over such a delicious threat. You couldn't see into the visor but you knew by heart where his eyes were and you stared at the positions where they were wishing you could see the look on his face and the intensity, "What if I wanted them to dare as punishment to you."

Boba sighed knowing he wasn't going to win this. He knew you were hurting because he hadn't sent for you or tried to reach out while both of you were never spouses before due the nature of the job there was always a spark and undeniable tension both of you tended to give into after a bounty but now time had gone by and he had never bothered to speak his heart. Boba could sense the sand in the hourglass trickling, you coming and teasing him back after all this time was a silent offer of chance to atone and amend his mistake. "If that is what The Queen deems a suitable punishment so shall it be," he said cautiously removing his hand from your neck and tilting his head forward in offering, "A suitable punishment for this fool of a man for losing so many glorious opportunities to enjoy time with such a lovely creature such as yourself."

"My thoughts exactly," you said resting your forehead against the cool metal of his beskar. It made your heart flutter at the sentiment and meaning of it, he gave your forehead a little tap with his and a smile broke out across your face, "Going soft on me?"

"Never," he replied taking a few more deep breaths before pulling back, taking your arm and guiding you in another direct, "I assume you have plenty of sinfully tasteful fitting dresses with your luggage or do you want to see how Mos Espa looks on you?" he stopping at a crossroads in the hall.

"I had one especially made before coming in case I needed to get your attention " you teased, "I can't think of a better time to test in."

"How wicked" you heard the smile in his voice finally picking a direction a direction "You've never needed anything to get my attention Mesh'la," he added, "Do I get to see it before the feast?"

"What would be the fun in that?" You laughed.

"It must be some dress then."

"You have no idea my dear Daimyo."

Boba guided you back to his two main guards, listening your muffled giggle at the one you used as a foot rest. The sound of it reminded him of another time another Boba. "Go with them, they'll carry your luggage back for you and provide a room for you. I'll get the word out about today," Boba said with a small bow dismissing himself not waiting for a response. His mind was exceptionally sharp but it was clouded when you were around and he desperately needed some fresh air. When he reached the throne room dias he disappeared behind a small door to a balcony that oversaw the city below still semi shrouded from view.

"Lover?" he heard Fennec ask behind him.

"A life time ago, yes."

"Don't let her distract-"

"I always trust your wisdom, my dear friend but I don't think she's here to distract me. It seems she's here to see if the spark is still there or if it's time to move on."

"Is it?" she asked.

"I hope so. Invite everyone for a feast tonight. Get the best cooks and musicians, please."

"Please? I like her already," Fennec chuckled starting to make a mental list and those to contact some help for such a last moment event, "Why haven't you taken your Helmet off? I haven't seen you wear it so long."

"I've gotten old and forgotten what it means to wear it. Not sure if I'm ready for her to see that."

"So you do have doubts?" Fennec smiled.

"I haven't lived this long without being prepared."

Fennec nodded, Smart Man, she must be one hell of a Bounty Hunter to put him on edge like this. Fennec excuses to herself to start making preparations for the eventing contacting the Mods to help her spread the word.

You watched the guards pick up the two very heavy trunks and fling them over their shoulders with ease. Smiling you closed the ship after wondering around it once more and followed after them. You took in the sights on the way back, the sand, the people, the peace. You remembered what this place was like, the fear and iron fist but now it seemed people were actually happy and living life. While the sand was not something you cared for you, it could be home or at least a place to dwell between bounties. Your mind trailed back to Boba, the roughness of his voice and how different it was from when you last heard it, it made you wonder what had happened to him in the time apart.

The guards took you to a room past the Daimyo's at the end of the hall, the room was luxurious dripping in finery. They put the trunks at the end of the bed and left you to explore in silence. Their was a beautiful vanity lined with fragrances from through out the galaxy. Then you saw it the small fragrance box in the back unopened, no dust clung to and it was obviously new. You sliced the cover with your nail and opened it, revealing a translucent blue bottle labeled The Queen, you smiled at the limited edition perfume knowing you were really on his mind. You opened the balcony to look at the city below, your hands trialed the railing the cold metal reminding you of him.

You tapped the back of your knuckles on the railing frustrated. Should I have even came? There's plenty of other bounties hunters would would be worth the time of day, several of which are Mandalorians or equally rough around the edges. Boba's obviously retired, could I? Your mind trialed to the stacks of your stashed credits, the adrenaline running through your veins and the electricity dancing throughout your nervous system on a bounty, the reeling feeling of being alive and then back to him. You groaned pulling yourself away from the railing, sensing the approaching person coming to your door. You opened it before they had time to knock, finding Fennec standing in the door way.

"Ms. Shand, how can I be of assistance? Someone you need to talk?" you smiled.

"No, I came to escort you to the Daimyo bathing room if you wish to use something a little more luxurious then your own."

"Let me grab something to slip into for the time being," you said turning and rummaging through the trunk to find the floor length black slip at the bottom, "How many hours until the feast?" you asked curiously.

"Three."

Short and simple, "How is he...? Really I mean," letting your voice dropped to a hush tone.

"He's a better man."

"Thank you for watching over him," your voice dropped even lower.

"That's what family does," she said pushing open the large door revealing a steamy chamber with several bathing soaps and assorted towels, "Enjoy, I'll leave you to it. You can go back to your room when ever your done."

You walked inside pulling the door shut behind you, admiring the long tub with steam rolling off of it. You dressed down and submerged yourself in, the heat engulfing you in a warm embrace. You dunked your head back and let the warmth touch your scalp.

"Little one," you heard the smirk in the tone echo in the chamber.

You looked around not seeing anyone but you felt his presence nearby, "Can I help you?" you asked innocently running your fingers through your hair.

"Can I come in?"

"I'm not going to stop you," you said sinking yourself further down into the tub.

Your eyes caught sight of a small door opening, assumingely connected to Boba's room. He was still armored but he strode in and took a seat next to the bath.

He watched you sink even lower into the bath, "I don't remember modesty being one of your strong suits."

"I don't remember being an observing prude being one of yours either," you snickered back lathering your hair, "nor one for wearing so much black," your eyes danced around his body back up to his helmet, "or secrecy."

Boba sat slightly watching you lather and wash your hair, "Stand," he said once you were done.

"What if I don't want too," you teased, standing just enough to were the water still covered your nipples distorting them. His silence maddening not taking the bait, you moved the the side of the tub he was sitting on, pressing your against the wall and standing so nothing was visible. You noticed the small adjustment he made while sitting knowing it was getting to him. You let your arms go up to your head and squeezed some of the water out of your head letting the top of you be exposed to him, "Satisfied?" you asked lowering your arms covering yourself again.

"Come here, My Queen," his voice was husky with lust, motioning you forward with a finger.

You painfully took the stairs out of the tub one by one so he could trace your body with his eyes. You could feel his gaze shifting the impression leaving warm spots up your body. You stood in front of him crossing your arms under your breast to prop them up, "You are interrupting my bath," you said simply.

"I could give you a reason to get back in," he said suggestively placing a gloved hand on your waist noticing the small goosebumps appear.

"I don't think that is the point of the punishment," you said turning letting your back and ass be in view.

"I didn't say I would get pleasure from it," he smiled.

"If it would hold you over until after the feast," you relented smiling down at him, "One wouldn't hurt."

"Of course, My Queen," he said pulling you down on your knees before him.

You could already feel your slick starting to coat you and he wasn't even touching you yet. He leaned down putting his helmet in your face letting two fingers trial up your side to your breast and pulled gently on the physical reaction it caused. You let out a small pleasurable hiss at the feel of the semi rough leather, he quickly stuck one finger in your moan to silence you as he brought his free hand back to your breast. You let your tongue stroke the leather teasingly, you opened your mouth wide letting his finger escape visibly coated with drool. You heard a small groan escape him and his legs shift again. You smiled wiping the little bit of left over drool off from your lip.

You watched him lean forward more dropping his hand between your legs circling your clit. Your slick coating the rough leather. You heard his breathing hitch and a small growl escape him. He cautiously  twirled one gloved finger around your entrance gently pushing it in.

"Fuck," you moaned as the leather breached you.

"You are so tight," he groaned shoving it further into you, "So tight."

"Boba," the filthy moan escaped your lips, he shoved his finger further up without restraint to the spongy button stroking faster.

His finger stretched you as it curled into you, "My Queen," his voice was huskier, lust was taking over and he was doing his best to restrain his need. 

You started grinding into his finger clenching around it with every movement. You gasped as he  inserted another finger stretching you out further, "Bobaa," you said fucking yourself harder with them bringing your hand to your hair  and the other hand to his arm.

"Careful My Queen, I only have so much self restraint," he said being rougher, his other hand holding his cock to keep it from stroking itself in his flight suit. He desperately wanted to take it out and stroke himself.

You stood, his fingers popping out without warning causing you to shutter but you shoved him back in the chair and undid the pants of his flight suit, "Boba, now," you pleaded watching his mass spring up, the tip coated in precum more pulsating out at the command.

"What about my punishment?" He said shakily watching some of your slick fall on your thigh. 

"You don't want me?" You teased exposing your thigh to him but forcibly shoving his cock back in his suit and zipping it up, "I'm going to bathe, your excused," you said turning back to the bath and taking a step off the ledge into the water, wiping your thigh off.

You heard his breathing quicken, "Yes, Milady," he panted standing up.

"Next time just give me your cock, or I might be tempted to get my fill else where," you threatened not looking at him.

"I'll kill him. Slowly," you heard the anger break in Boba's voices, you smiled knowing he was going to think of you ever moment until tonight. 

The moment Boba reached his room he walked into the refresher gripped the counter trying not to relieve himself. He was so turned on and ravenous didn't notice your footsteps sneaking up on him until you did his flight suit again. You pulled him around and put the engorged member between your thighs holding it in place.

"It was almost just as fun watching you punish yourself," you purred, letting your hands move to the green chest plate, "but I really really want you right now. I won't asked again."

Boba picked you up like you were weightless and plunged his cock into you, "Fuck, Boba ," you screamed, as he started plowing it into you. He was forcibly stretching you out around him, his fingers dug into your hips the tightness nearly making him cum right there.

He was relentless and didn't stop as he put you on the bed, "My Queen," he moaned. The heat of being in his armor was bugging him, he quickly undid it tossing it to the ground. Your fingers went to his helmet, "It stays on," he growled being rougher cause your hands to move away.

Your fingers moved to his body, the muscles were quite was defined but you could feel he was definitely stronger. His cock was threatening to split you in two with every thrust. The heat of you engulfing every carnal urge within him turning them up. Boba felt you start shaking under him, "I've missed you" he groaned being rougher grabbing your legs and splitting them further his fingers digging into your ankles feeling you tighten around him, "You're so beautiful," he added staring down your beautiful face.

You felt his cock starting to twitch, you wrapped your legs around his ass pulling him closer and putting your hands around his neck, "Fill me, Boba. Please," you let your thumb trial up under his helmet to his jaw rubbing it matching his strokes. His arms shot down to catch himself, both of them placed on either side of your neck. Your felt him start shaking inside you, you let out cries of his name. Boba's never fucked you this hard, every thrust spearing you like it was the last. Your toes curls and your fingers dug into him harder piercing skin. You make the mistake of looking down watching his cock slide in and out of you, "Maker," the visual sent you over the edge. The pleasure coursing through you making every limb twitch but heavy. Your cunt quickly violently tightening around him when you felt him finally spill his warm release into you, his name falling from his lips like a prayer. You clenched again feeling some of its vast amount spill out.

He groaned the movement causing his sensitive cock to release what little was left in him, "Mesh'la," moving one of his hands gently to your embracing face. He kept himself situated between your legs and his cock slowly softening, massaging your twitching muscles, "Did I hurt you?" he asked tenderly.

"Boba Fett, the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy worried about hurting someone?" You cooed, your heart still shaking and your high finally coming down.

"Only you milady," he said slowly trying to pull himself in but felt your heels dig into his ass and pull him back in.

"Done already?" you teased.

"I'm not as young as I use to be," Boba said leaning his helmet on your forehead.

"Just leave in me for as long as possible," you said pulling your hands from his face and resting them on his neck, "Why won't you let me take it off?" You whined.

He tipped it up and kissed you, pulling your bottom lip between his teeth and lathering your neck in soft kisses before putting the helmet back on, "Believe it or not but self consciousness. After the feast, you can take it off."

You wiggled your hips a little bit cause him to growl, "Fine, but come down here I'm cold."

Boba tucked his arms at your sides laying his head on your shoulder and his body on your chest covering you with his own heat. He could feel himself hardening again, he stiffened a small groan knowing you felt it too.

"Leave it," you said stroking his back feeling the muscle.

"Trying to have my heir?" he chuckled.

"In your dreams Fett," you laughed back.

"I'm in my dreams" he leered slightly thrusting in.

"I would have to be way fuller to even consider it, old man," you teased.

Boba's cock twitched eagerly, "That an offer? Maybe I'm not as old as I thought"

"Maybe after the feast and you've endured my torment," you teased, "besides it would be my heir," you tsked at him.

"An heir for each of us?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Hmm, I'll have to think about it," you said trailing on finger up his spine feeling him tense again, "Perhaps-"

Fennec knocked on the door knowing better then to open giving the noises coming from it a little bit ago, "One hour." She quickly turned away grinning hoping his mood would be improved.

"Rain check," Boba said finally allowed to pull out staring at his seed oozing out of you, "Me'copaani ba'jurir ti ni?" his mandalorian was rusty but it still rolled off his tongue.

"I said after the feast," you said with a giggle watching him twitch, "Maybe you could make up my mind," you teased spending your legs further for him, tempting him.

Boba shook his head scolding himself, "After the feast," but the roughness in his voice told you it worked. He handed you a towel. He watched you hold yourself above it watching it dripped out. He groaned but grabbed his discarded clothing and walked into the bath room his self control slipping.

You followed after him with your clothing laughing and you still managed to beat him into the water, "You're going to close your control when you see the dress, might as well lose it now," you winked it him beckoning him into the water.

"I am a disciplined warrior, I have perfect control."

"And how many times did you take me while flying because you couldn't wait?"

"Get clean," he said lathering you in wash and than himself.

You rolled your eyes and finished leaving him in the bath by himself, "Send for me when your ready for your torment."

Boba watched you leave before taking off his helmet to washing his face and neck. You wrapped your hair up to finish drying while you opened the trunk to pull out the dress, your hands felt the silky fabric perfectly matching the red shade on this helmet fading to the green of his helmet and chest plate, cut to perfectly put everything on display and two side slits going all the way down to put your body on display. You smile pulling the open backed gown on and releasing your hair. Let's see how long he can keep his hands off me or see me with another man. You went to the vanity and looked at the new one smiling, you gave yourself several sprays of it. You were almost finished getting ready when a soft tap came at the door, "Enter."

Fennec walked in with the corner of her lip pulling into a smile, "A statement?" she offered.

"A question," you smiled, "hopefully one he'll finally answer."

"We're ready," she said.

You slipped your shoes on and quickly followed after her and the music. When you both entered the dining room it fell silent except for the music, all eyes on both of you. Fennec escorted you up where Boba and two empty places were. Both when both of you took your places the chatter started back up again. You side eyed Boba who didn't even turn and look. Maybe I should have done green to red then. Then you noticed Fennec eyeing him. So I did get under his skin.

You watched the Daimyo stand up and have it fall silent again, "I welcome you all to eat, dance and live. This feast is in our a dear friend, The Queen, who came to visit. Let's show her how Mos Espa now flourishes, free of war, spice and tyranny," he said raising a glass, sipping it and back down. He saw the few men eyeing you and was doing his best to quell his anger. Boba saw one eyeing you and you giving him the quick flash of a wave. So my punishment has started... Is that my perfume? He tighten his jaw, the dress was the perfect allusion to him yet perfectly opposite of his scheme. To him it signified you as his and as he equals, along with the perfume being another jab at the thought of seeing you with anyone else.

You saw Boba's free hand ball into a fist and his gloves tight against his knuckles, knowing your legs were covered by the table cloth you run you your foot up his leg with a smile between delicious bites. Everything about the feast was delicate yet stood out by its own, no two dishes tasted alike and every drink offered was vastly different. The desserts was one of kind. Maybe I would stay here just for this. You eyed the man heading to the dancing area, alone. You wiped your lips and excused yourself falling after him.

"Not eating?" Fennec said looking at the dessert, "I would have assumed you worked up at appetite earlier," she added scooping up a piece.

"Just waiting for her to be gone," he admitted tipping his helmet up and eating finally.

"She's really having an effect on you," Fennec said watching.

"We all have that one personal bounty that got away. She is a huntress personified."

"Why did you wait so long?"

"I assumed she moved on and I am a relic of the past."

"Boba for being the smartest people I've ever met... you sure are always the stupidest when it comes to the heart," Fennec said putting down the spoon full of dessert spotting her dancing with some guy, "A woman like that doesn't move on. Why are you dealing with this punishment," she said with a small chuckle.

"Ever defy a Queen before?" He growled, "I'd disintegrate him just for touching her, but I'm assuming this is her way of testing me and her way of asking me what I've been doing with others since."

"Have you?" Fennec asked raising an eyebrow.

"No," that was the question that unscrewed the final bolt. Boba tipped his helmet back down and wondered down the floor towards you.

The man spun you around, it was a silence dance.  It seemed almost like he was on autopilot. Then you noticed the man eyeing him in the corner, it was the look of a lover pinning. OH, you giggled and grabbed his hand dragging him towards the balcony.

"Did I make your boyfriend made?" You asked jumping up swinging your legs over the rails and sitting down.

"You know?" He asked confused.

"I am The Queen, there's little that escapes my eye. How are you enjoying the changes to Mos Espa?"

Boba found both of you outside, he leaned against the shadows in the door way listening. His temper calming after the admitted statement noticing the lover too also watching and listening. Boba smiled.

"The new Daimyo is a kind and stern man, he yields his influence only in the most respectful ways," the man said leaning against against the railing.

"Has the Daimyo ever shown interest in... any woman?" you asked cautiously.

"No, he spends all of his time making the town better or helping friends."

"Would you consider him a good man then?"

"Unlike anything this town has ever seen before. War broke out here, even when it looked like certain defeat he did not back down trying to protect this town. No other would have done that."

"Maybe I don't need to punish him as much as I thought," you said looking at your nails before taking in the city again, "Loyalty is the way, without a clan you are empty," you muttered, "You may go, have fun," you said looking at the city.

Boba stepped out the shadows and put his arms around your waist, “What was suppose to be the punishment?”

“The punishment would have came if you didn’t come after me,” you purred rubbing his arm, “you never disappoint.”

Boba lifted your legs and spun you around on the railing, putting himself between your legs, “Don’t get any ideas little one, we have company,” watching your hands wander to his abs, “as much as I want you and for you to be off limits.”

“So I’m not yours nor off limits? Good to know,” you said disappointed, “I guess I will be on my way then,” you said your heart starting to aching, you tried standing but he pushed you back down on the railing

Boba growled pulled away, walking over to the blinds and pulling them down and shutting the door. He ferociously pulled up your dress and rutted himself against you his cock desperately wanted to be released from his flight suit and cod piece, removed the piece and unzipped his flight suit moving your soaked underwear to the side and piercing your warm harshly making you moan his name.

“Mine,” he growled, thrusting, “My Queen,” he added thrusting again.

“Boba… Do you want me… ahh to stay,” you panted trying to be quiet.

He thrust again stopping for a moment, “You don’t have to give up Bounty Hunting for now,” he said gently running his hand over your stomach, “I’d prefer if you stayed here with me.”

“Boba, do you lo-“

“Yes.”

You smiled taking off one of his gloves, “You should have told me.”

“I know,” he admitted sourly.

“Now, get back to work,” you winked putting the glove in your mouth, both of you knowing damn well the music was to loud.

“Yes, My Queen,” he said holding your face rutting into you.

Your head went back, his cock clinging to your walls splitting you with every stroke. “Maker,” you moaned muffled by the glove and you could feel him twitch.

“Do you want me to cum into you,” he said wiping your cheek with his thumb, slowing down for a moment, “or I could use that pretty mouth,” you heard the smile on his voice.

You wrapped your leg around him shoving him further into you feeling more of your slick coat him, “Little one likes her filling,” he groaned picking the speed back up. The base of his cock was violently rubbing your clit engorging it with desire, “Don’t worry I’ll take care of my mess,” he said looking down at the union. He buried his other hand into the flesh of your ass using it to stabilize himself as he spilled into you. He clenched his jaw holding back the noise his throat was trying to maybe, he continued to pump himself until he felt like everything was out. He pulled himself out tucking himself back in. He let two fingers glide in and felt you arch forward, he pulled the glove off leaving it inside. Bringing his rough calloused hand to your throbbing clit, stroking it gently. Your thighs closed around his hand, he ripped them open using one leg to hold on side open and brought his other hand to your legs shoving it open, “I’m not done yet.” He worked your lips between his fingers putting his thumb on the sensitive tip.

You wildly started moaning as he worked you with his fingers and you could barely breath, your legs kept trying to clench shut and your cunt was clenched tight enough that it was trying to push out the glove. He shoved it back in “push out my load and you’ll be the one getting punished.” You moaned again at the comment. He said stroking faster setting your body on fire, every inch bouncing electricity limp to limp numbing every other sensation, “That’s it, cum for me.” Your face started burning at the command and roughness in his tone. He removed his hand from your leg and brought it to the back of your neck. You could’t stand it anymore you flipped up a finger causing his helmet to come off. You stared into half lidded dilated eyes, you pulled the glove out of your mouth grabbing him and kissing him letting his mouth muffle your orgasm.

“I almost forgot how handsome you were under there,” you breathed putting your arms around his neck, pulling him back to your mouth. You pulled back tracing the small scar across his face, “Am in trouble aren’t I,” you smiled.

He smiled pushing the glove in more pulling away and closing your legs picking you up, kneeling to pick up his helmet and opening the door guiding you back inside, “I’m going to enjoy filling you until it spills,” he smirked, “won’t mind a princess or two if they as strong as you.”

“Or as loyal as you.”

The rest of the towards Boba’s room was silent he gently set you on the bed pulling up your dress and pulling out the glove with a delish little liquid popping noise and tossing it to the ground. He stripped himself of everything but stopped at his vambrace pulling out the grappling line before discarding it to the ground, “I didn’t teach you everything,” he smiled grabbing your hands putting the line around them, “Now I’m going to spend the rest of night reminding you who’s really in charge here.”

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Dunecat Chapter 8

Masterlist

(Read here on Ao3)

Rating: Mature Word Count: 3.4k Tags: Slow Burn, First dates, Shopping excursion, Sugar Momma Fennec Shand, Biker Butch Fennec Shand, Thinly veiled excuse at being a bodyguard, Teasing, Flirting, Possessiveness, Mutually unrequited pining Warnings: Mention of assault from previous chapter A/N: Happy Pride Month to Lesbian Queen Fennec Shand

The twin suns had just begun to peek over the horizon of the Tattooine desert, painting the sky a vivid orange through the dust laden atmosphere. The haze murmured of a distant sandstorm, one that darkens the skies to a gritty, blinding bister. You could imagine the sand, gritty and dark, blistering your eyes and embedding in your skin with the unerring power of the planet’s violent atmosphere. For now, the searing red and pinks of sunrise cast stark but emollient morning shadows long across Boba’s palace.

Despite the early hour, the temperature had already begun to reach the point of discomfort, laying hot against your skin like an oven's breath. The wind picking up over the Jundland whispered of the forming sandstorm. You could feel the growing wind of it flutter under your clothes as you stood in the morning light, pants tucked tight into your boots so avoid the sand and day pack strapped tight to your back where sweat already begins to pool between your shoulders.

Yet you paid no attention to the wafting breeze or the promise of storm or the relative silence of the palace before the day’s activities truly commenced, instead feeling your eyebrows arch into your hairline at the scene in front of you. A certain black-clad, master assassin leant on a speeder bike and observed your surprised expression with a smug smirk splayed across her red lips, arms crossed and hip canted suggestively.

"...Morning." Fennec offered after a beat, balancing against the seat of the bike as it hovered a foot or so off the ground.

"Er...morning." You replied automatically, eyeing the huntress skeptically. Fennec's eyes had that tell-tale twinkle in them that told of her being up to no good. You had learned that look by now, and you knew that, if anything, it meant mischief.

"I- uh...thought you were still off planet." You supplied after silence fell between you both, stammering awkwardly. "Lord Fett didn't say when you'd be returning."

Not that I was paying attention. You wanted to add and bit your tongue instead.

Fennec gave a small shrug, her eyes never breaking yours. "Flew back in last night." She returned simply, not elaborating on the conquests of her secretive adventure. Things you weren’t privy to, like so much of her you were yet to understand.

You shuffled on your feet, feeling a bit awkward in even hinting that you had anticipated her return, feeling a strange bashfulness at the idea Fennec might somehow perceive you as being clingy.

"W-was it a good trip?" You asked at last, scuffing your boots against the dusty entrance to the hangar side door you had eased through before the rest of the palace could wake. The dust clouded at your feet between you, and you watched it if only to avoid the assassin’s peering gaze.

Fennec hummed a note in her throat, and for some reason that alone made you suppress a shiver, the sound almost amused. Your eyes were drawn up again as Fennec shifted, standing up off the bike and sauntering over towards you, hips swaying. The sudden motion makes you freeze, uncertain if you should approach her as well and yet wanting by some instinct to retreat when she looked at you with that stare.

Hungry.

"Did what I had to." She replied noncommittally. "Though it sounds like you had more fun than I did while I was away."

You cringed automatically, remembering the scuffle with the visitor who had leered at your work-mate and had assaulted you. The sound of Boba's blaster shot still rung loudly in your ears, even a day after the incident.

"...You could say that." You muttered, frowning down at your feet and feeling your hands wrap tighter around your bag's straps. "I...wouldn't say it was fun."

Fennec chuckled, and you blinked as a leather clad touch tipped your chin up so you would meet her gaze. The touch alone had a shudder tremble through your frame, body remembering the same way she drew you into her bed, had your crying out for release.

Fennec didn't speak, instead gazing down at your astonished expression almost as if she was searching for something there. You fear she might see the memory, make warmth flood to your face as she tilted her head knowingly, eyes twinkling.

You took the moment to let your own gaze flicker across her face, eyes darting down to her lips and then back up to her eyes once more. Fennec must have noticed this, as the smirk on her lips tugged upwards for just a moment. A forbidden glimpse into her thoughts.

For a moment you thought -wished- she would kiss you, even if it was just a small peck against your lips. A bold and daring taste of her, there and gone before you truly had the chance to savor.

Yet Fennec merely hovered over you for several long moments, eyes dark and searching. You had just thought to let your eyes shut, hiding yourself from her keen, unrelenting stare when her touch vanished from you completely.

"Going into town?" She chirped as she turned and paced back over towards the bike, and for a moment you couldn't respond because your heart was beating so loudly it deafened any other thought.

You took a moment to simply start breathing again, trying to recompose yourself after the dizzying force that was her.

"I- yes." You replied at last. "Fett gave me the day off."

"Odd, he offered me the same." Fennec hummed as she swung a leg over the bike, hitting the starter and letting it hum to life.

One hand seized her helmet from the other side of the vehicle, and she shrugged it on it hid all but her eyes underneath it. You watched her form briefly lay low across the front, figure lean and agile like a panther. Then Fennec turned towards you, and through the gap in her helmet she raised a slender eyebrow at you in question.

"Coming?" She inquired, almost strangely cheerful. "Unless you want to walk, that is."

You gulped.

You had been intending to walk, a trek though it was. You even had enough credits to flag a ride back if need be. It wasn't a pleasant prospect, slogging across the desert, but it was a necessary one. The thought of riding behind Fennec, however, was as alluring as it was intimidating. The thought of your form pressed close up against her back, arms wrapped around her front...

You didn't trust yourself to not become a flustered mess in the process.

"Suns are rising, sand mouse. Better get a move on." Fennec quipped, eyes intent on your hesitating form. Again, you shifted a bit uneasily on your feet, before at last letting them carry you to the bike and gingerly set yourself behind the assassin.

Fennec waited for you to settle, and your hands carefully reached out to settle on her shoulders, clinging to her jacket in an effort to balance yourself properly.

“All set?” She tossed over her shoulder, as if to question your gentle touch- a warning that you may careen off the bike.

“Mhm.” You offered quietly in response, fingers tracing the synth-wear edges of her jacket.

Without a word Fennec let the engine purr to life, and you remembered to take a breath before you both went shooting off into the desert, faster than you could think to gasp. Instantly, the speed at which the bike launched across the dunes made your clothes flutter and legs cling tighter to the speeder below you.

No sooner had you zoomed down the hill leading the palace did you immediately reconsider your notion of not trying to cling to Fennec. With the leaning of the bike, the wind and sand whipping in your face and your hair flying, your hands instantly drifted down to Fennec's waist, where they secured your form by wrapped around to her front so you could lean further into her back.

Fennec's form shuddered for all of a moment, and if it hadn't been for the roar of the engine and whistle of the wind you could have sworn you heard her laugh.

You pressed your face in between her shoulders, telling yourself it was to avoid the sand, and ignoring your smile at the feeling of her firm, lean form tucked against yours.

----

The journey towards town ended far too soon for your liking. Yet you couldn't deny a twinge of relief as Fennec slowed the speeder to a stop just outside the city gates. The dust cloud the bike had kicked up on your abrupt entry floated over you both, beige and gritty, catching in your eyes and clothes.

You coughed once, trying to expel the dust from your lungs despite having buried your face against Fennec's jacket the entire ride to prevent just that. The assassin huffed, and you couldn’t decide if it was her clearing her lungs or being amused at your small plight.

Fennec dismounted in the moment it took for you to look up at the familiar streets, filled with bustling crowds and all shades of strange characters. Mos Espa seemed to not have changed despite the weeks you had spent working at the palace. The rebuilding efforts after the battle between the Fett cartel and the Pike syndicate had progressed, but otherwise the city seemed to remain the same. The townsfolk seemed unbothered by the standing piles of rubble and neatly stacked bricks intended to replace them, or the construction droids that scaled the destroyed tower with rancor claw marks still embedded in the stone.

Various passerby chittered in almost every language you could understand, and several of those you couldn't. Moisture farmers haggled with vendors in the entrance to the market, and Jawas skittered across the street, eyeing the speeder bike you sat on greedily. Several pairs of eyes glanced at you, and then to the dark-clad enforcer standing beside you, heads turning as Fennec’s reputation proceeded her, with your subdued figure sitting behind her.

You were so distracted you almost didn't notice the black leather gloved hand extended to you. Blinking, you looked up at Fennec, who had her helmet again tucked under her arm and a hand held out to you to help you off the bike. You took it gratefully, feeling a small, pleasant flutter in your stomach at the strangely chivalrous gesture from the assassin.

"Where to first, sand mouse?" She quipped as soon as you were on your feet, then paused to send a scathing look at the Jawas who had wandered just a step closer to the bike, sending them scattering.

You felt a smile tug at your lips at the stern disapproval that flittered across her expression, then blinked at her in surprise, noticing the unspoken meaning of her words.

"I thought you had business in town?" You asked, confusion tinting your words.

"I do." Fennec replied instantly, her eyes snapping back to yours brightly, a smile hidden under her gaze. "It's right in front of me."

…Oh.

As if the heat of the twin suns wasn't enough, you felt yourself flush under her gaze, heart stammering in girlish infatuation. Even now, despite all the time you had spent with Fennec, it was always the simple words of hers that managed to always catch you off guard.

Unable to keep her gaze, you lowered your eyes to your lap, leaning back until the backs of your knees bumped the bike. Yet Fennec merely crowded closer, and when your eyes flicked up to her face you could see that damned smirk playing across her face again, as if amused by your chaste bashfulness.

"A-are you sure?" You tried, voice weak despite your valiant attempts otherwise. "I'm sure you have plenty to do, after all, being Fett's enforcer."

You were practically sitting back on the bike again now, sideways on the seat. Yet Fennec only managed to press closer, and your heart thrummed loudly as one of her knees slipped between yours.

"Even enforcers get days off." The huntress hummed low, words soft enough for only you to hear despite the number of passerby that had begun to notice her blatant gestures towards you.

This was unlike her, you thought. To be this blatant with her affections. You were practically in the middle of the street, but here she was pressing you into the bike she had driven you here on, practically gleeful at your squirming.

Eyes wide, you looked down stubbornly at your lap, feeling your lips twitch in a somewhat pleased smile at the thought of those passing by and seeing Fennec clearly stake her claim on you for all to see.

You inhaled a stuttering breath, trying vainly to compose yourself despite the rush that Fennec's flirtations brought you. Yet inside you wanted nothing more than to hide your face in your hands shyly, feeling the eyes of the market pressing down on you both.

"...Okay." You breathed at last, both hoping and praying that Fennec would and wouldn't give you some space.

Oddly, she didn't. It was only once you looked up at her, her dark form blotting out the sunlight and letting a shadow fall over you, that you saw why.

In a single heartbeat Fennec bent down, planting upon your forehead a fleeting peck before straightening once more.

Any other thought you could have harbored came to a screeching halt, with you spluttering just as Fennec’s laughter rang tinnily in your ears.

“Keep up, sand mouse.” She offered to your embarrassment, even as you lifted an arm to shield your face with your bashfulness.

As she donned her helmet, you could almost see a dusting of pink across her cheeks, pleased and strangely demure. The sight alone made a smile spread across your lips, and briefly you ducked your head to hide your widening grin before trotting to catch up to the huntress.

---

The bazaar was bustling as you two made your way through the tented vendors and various stalls lining the wide street. Calls rang out in every direction, spoken in Hutteese, Basic, Jawa, and possibly every other language you could name off-hand. The suns had passed the horizon now, shining brightly down on the square and letting the sand and stone under your feet bake in the heat.

Despite the wide street, the market was already becoming packed, and more than once you felt yourself jostled or pushed aside as another, larger shape moved past you. You mumbled a series of apologies for bumping people, despite not even being noticed most of the time when you yourself were shoved partly aside. Still, you made your way forward, trying to get to the part of the market with the soaps and shampoos you had saved your wages for, longing for the sweet floral scents of other planets.

Fennec trailed behind you, seemingly happy to let you lead the way as you weaved through the crowd ahead of her. Yet if you ventured too far, walked too fast, it was a gloved hand on your shoulder that would draw you back, ensure you stayed close to her side. A glance towards her showed her expression remained indiscernible under the helmet coy eyes sliding to you and signaling once more for you to lead the way.

It’s an endearing gesture, one you couldn’t help but smile to yourself at, your huntress so intent on ensuring you didn’t stray from her sight. You tried to ignore the inclination to tell yourself it was almost possessive. Territorial, allowing others to see who you belonged to.

You blinked as you realize the sentiment gently revealed to you, with your mind occupied by thoughts of the woman who also occupied your bed.

Her.

Perhaps not yet, but in a way you so desperately wanted to be. In a way you hoped you’d be to her some day too.

You considered it further as you bent over the vendor stall packed with various tins of cream and soap, ogling the vast array of goods. Expensive though they were, you wanted desperately to indulge, knowing your scarce water supply was something to be enjoyed to the fullest extent possible. The thought of bathing with deluxe conditioner and bath soaps, of floating around Boba’s palace smelling of desert roses and feeling the wanting eyes of others looking after what they couldn’t have admittedly thrilled you.

“-and this one will ease those sore muscles after a long day at the moisture farm, eh?” The Duros woman before you offered, shoving yet another container in your direction. You lifted it up to your nose, inhaled the deep, rich scent of a flower you didn’t recognize, a bloom from a distant world you might never see.

“Or…” and now a small bottle offered in your direction with a strange amber liquid that smelled sweet and musky as you lifted it to your face. “Add this to your wash basin in the morning and your skin will be as smooth as Mandalorian beskar! Glowing like the three moons!”

“How much for both?” You asked quietly, just loud enough to be heard over the bustle of the market, and the Duros vendor rubbed her hands greedily at your question.

“Two-hundred credits for the batch!” She announced gleefully, much to your dismay. “I’ll even toss in a bar of bantha soap to boot.”

You looked despairingly down at your wallet, eyeing at the meager one hundred and fifty credits that twinkled from the purse. Frowning, you looked back and forth between the bottles, biting your lip as you tried to decide.

Fennec, who up until then had been idly watching your transaction with a mildly disinterested gaze, shifted beside you. You had nearly forgotten she was there with how still the huntress held herself. Like a cat crouching in the ferns. You saw her out of the corner of your eyes as she leaned over the vast array of perfumes and soaps, feigning interest before reaching into her pocket to withdraw her own credits.

“Two hundred?” She asked, amusement flitting through her voice at the seemingly paltry sum. “What does three-hundred get her?”

You blanched.

“F-Fennec.” You tried, aghast at her sudden display, even as the credits clinked down onto the counter. “T-that’s-“

“Sabbacc change.” She finished for you, head tilting and eyes sliding over to yours to regard your flummoxed expression. “My treat.”

The vendor, for what she was worth, seemed as surprised as you are. Yet her shock lasted only a moment, for soon she scrambled to push even more containers and bottles in your directions, stammering out her offerings.

“I-if that’s the case-! T-then maybe try this moisturizer, with water distilled from Bespin city-“

“Done.” Fennec interjected bluntly, shoving over the credits and swiping your purchases up into her hands, making a point to spin you around in her arms and deposit them in your rucksack before you could so much as protest.

Even as you spluttered, Fennec merely fastened her hand around your wrist, her eyes crinkling with glee and mischief as you were dragged off away from the stall, the vendors tinny ‘Come again soon!’ ringing out behind you.

“F-Fen-“ You tried even as you stumble after her, giddy and confused and in disbelief all at once. “You didn’t have to-“

“I did.” The assassin returned simply with a shrug, and despite her nonchalance you found delight dancing in her gaze as she glanced at you. “Now let’s get you some clothes to match. I can’t have you running around in rags, little sand mouse.”

You thought you heard your heart thump in your chest, skipping helplessly as the sun burned down onto you both. Yet the brightness there wasn’t nearly as dazzling as the glimmering twinkle in her beautiful dark eyes, the sight alone akin to laughter that bubbled up your throat in helpless delight.

Yours. Your heart murmured again as it called out to her, the warmth of her gloved hand spilling against your wrist and setting your tender heart aflame.

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Lovers' Crest | Chapter 19: The Bloodied

Din Djarin x f!Reader

Masterlist

Summary: In this time and place, as war descends, it all changes.

Word count: 5.6k

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, slow burn, non-canon (the Razor Crest never gets destroyed, it also gets upgraded with a cabin), post season 3, Big Epic Battle, return of the Razor Crest 💙, violence, blood, passing allusion to post-traumatic stress, ho so much action, and so much lore bullshitting just go with me here.

A/N: The walker described in this isn’t any specific canon version. Somewhere between an AT-AT and an AT-ST let’s say. I dunno, picture whatever you want. Thanks for reading!

--

The room fills for the final muster. 

It’s a scene similar to the first time you’d been in here, but now you’re witnessing it from the other side. Armoured and armed soldiers file into the chamber, an audience gathering before the conflict begins. 

This time though, rather than hiding in the shadows by the forge, you’re among the congregation, seeing the Armourer up front waiting as everyone files in. You stick to the back, find yourself shuffled along a row to stand uneasily by Fennec Shand. She leans a shoulder against yours, a gesture of staunch reassurance.

We got this.

Your eyes move over the backs of many helmets, scanning until you spot him. The man you miss more than you would breathing air must have been first in here. Front and centre, Din stands with his back to you and just a little side on. From your vantage point, you can make out the edges of the familiar heat sig sensor on his helmet’s right side. You can’t see any of the T visor, so he wouldn’t spot you staring at him unless he turned full to the right.

He must know you’re in here though. Whether he cares or not, you have no clue anymore.

Over the many broad shoulders between the two of you, you can’t tell if Grogu is with him.

Still, you whisper a silent entreaty, ‘please let them both be okay…’

Footsteps and shuffling whittle down to silence. Everyone waits. The striking figure at the front of the procession pushes her shoulders back, runs a gaze across the crowd, and speaks. 

‘War is here,’ she says. ‘And we are ready.’

The room fills with the beating of wrists. You and Fennec join in, tapping your comms cuff to your new wrist guard. As the sound fades to quiet again, the honorary battle commander continues.

‘We stand on the frontlines to defend our homelands. Mandalore. Concordia. Every place Mandalorians have come together to build a future. Every place the old, dead empire has tried to take from us.’

You can tell her words are meticulously chosen, because the room swells with an earnest pride and a thrum of determined energy.

‘As the Watch,’ she continues, ‘we’ve nurtured foundlings, raised warriors, and preserved our cultures. We have long held true to the words of the Creed. And it has led us through the dark. Now, we each of us have stood in the Living Waters. By the miracle of liberating Mandalore, we grow brighter. The bonds we forge and the strength we gain from them will continue to lead us.’

‘And it is with this revival that we must learn to reach into new space. We honour the Creed, as it speaks of ourselves and our past.’

She reaches behind her and once again draws out that familiar device. The one containing the texts of the Creed, its originals, its translations. The controlling lore of the people collected here. She places it down on her table.

‘Yet we have come to learn that there is more to our ancient Way than we knew. Now we have learned that the Creed goes further. It speaks of our future. And with the royal Clan Kryze guiding us, we have the way forward to meet it.’

The air pulses like a beating heart. The flames of the forge dance across the ocean of beskar. Everyone holds.

‘Bo-Katan Kryze is our leader, and she is also our guide, it is time we followed her on the path to walk both worlds. Each and every world.’

You’re puzzling over what this reverent monologue could possibly mean – what worlds? – when the woman standing before her people does something that beats the breath from your lungs and sends dizzying electric shocks through your body.

The Armourer, the devout and steadfast leader of almost every person in this room, reaches up and – with a soft hiss that echoes over the hushed crowd – lifts her helmet up, and off. An angular face, large eyes and a wide mouth. She nestles the golden mask under an arm and watches.

It remains deathly quiet for a long, agonising stretch. 

Slowly, just one at a time, and then a few, and then everyone in the place is lifting their hands to their own faces. The air is filled with the sounds of unclasping, pressure releasing. Beskar sings against itself as removed helms are cradled and caressed in gauntleted arms.

You look side to side with eyes wide and mouth agape, in crude contrast to the stoic and steady facial expressions of those around you. The unknown features of people you’ve lived and worked with for weeks are still and focused. Like they knew. Like they were prepared.

Then you’re searching. Over the arms raising and heads shaking out hair and sweat, you strain to see it. The helmet you’d held between your own hands and the man behind it. But he’s obscured. Too far away. You’re just not tall enough. Desperate, you raise onto your toes, craning your neck over the crowd.

‘Here,’ Fennec grabs your wrist and drops to a knee. You gawk for a second but she smacks her thigh with the other hand. ‘Up,’ she mouths.

This is ridiculous but you don’t even pause. You accept her boost, grasp her shoulder and let her hoist you up above the heads of the group. Fortunately everyone is distracted, some unspoken rule that no one looks around rippling across the congregation. They all stay focused front and centre, where the Armourer looks at each and every one of her people in turn.

Not at you yet though. From the very back, toppling a little, shaking violently, you sweep your gaze over to the spot you know him to be standing.

And you see it. You see him.

Dark curls. Damp and sticking to the nape of his neck and around his right ear. 

Huh. He has dark, brown hair. The sight slots into the image you’ve tried to hold in your head all this time. The sketch you’d traced out with your hands. 

Din is holding eyes front as well. All you can see of his face is the slight edge of a sharp jawline and nose. The fuzz of a scruffy beard. Hardly enough. Not enough.

Despite yourself, knowing it to be futile, you will him to look around. Look, I’m here, Din. Please, I’m here.

But you have to drop down before the Armourer, or anyone else, spots you. Giddy and a little nauseous. The grip on your forearm tightens as Fennec stands again. She leans in.

‘See what you needed to see?’ she asks.

You just let out the breath you’d been holding, hold up a trembling hand and stare hard at it. Try to steel yourself.

You hadn’t. Not at all.

A long, high-pitched siren cuts into the reverie that had engulfed the room, sweeps across the people who had just taken a step to change forever.

The Armourer speaks, clear voice projecting to every corner of the room, ‘Go, and bring glory to Mandalore.’

The whole room moves as one, helmets going back on and everyone proceeding to their assignments. Perfect, regimented, united.

Fennec Shand claps a hand to your shoulder and peels off, going to her mission, whatever that may be. Jolted back to reality, reminded of your mission, you cast about for Ari Wren, knowing you have to follow her into whatever comes next – no matter what. You spot her helmet first as it lifts up and over her head, spy just a hint of short cropped blonde hair as the mask locks back into place. She sees you too and strides forward.

‘This way,’ she instructs, fully composed like she hadn’t just uprooted her whole identity. ‘Stick with me.’

You let her guide you, all the while still looking back over your shoulder, just trying to get one more glimpse, one more look, just one.

You don’t see him again.

The first phase of the attack is nothing more than a battle of attrition. The enemy throws waves of ground troops at the Mandalorian defences. You stick with Ari Wren, barely holding onto awareness as pure adrenaline and instinct course through your veins and grant you unimaginable speed and strength. 

‘Stay in step,’ she yells. 

Shoulder blades pressed to the hot metal of her jetpack, you move as she moves. Your footwork is doing double-time to keep up with her rapid twists and lunges, the sword and shield seemingly featherlight in her hands. Each time laser fire comes at you, she’s there – shielding and deflecting.

In turn, you incapacitate anyone that gets under her guard. The close quarters lets you take soldier after soldier by surprise, sending them screaming to the ground clutching at ruined limbs.

The two of you make your way across what’s become the battlefield, move through the acrid air and across the ash-soaked scorched earth. Smoke rising all around, you position yourselves in the anticipated trajectory of their ultimate weapon. It hasn’t emerged over the embankment yet, but it’s only a matter of time.

You remain dimly aware of the rest of the battle – cover fire soaring overhead, the other fighters moving in your forward lines, and a pitched dogfight rending the sky above. But for all the chaos that has erupted since the imp forces descended, the world may as well be you and the Mandalorian yanking you out of the path of an oncoming pulse blast.

But then disaster strikes. It’s your fault. A trooper comes at your duo wielding a bayonet-clad phase rifle, the long nasty blade on its barrel glowing red hot with energy. They lay down attack fire on approach and, as Wren deflects each shot, move in to take a swipe with the sharp, searing edge. Your companion bats it to the side. She brings her own sword around fast, but the enemy manages to parry, twisting side-on.

Seeing an opening, you duck under Wren’s extended arm and take aim at a kidney. But she wasn’t expecting it and you’ve moved under her centre of gravity. You stagger each other and the split second of imbalance is enough for your foe to rend a long slice up Wren’s outer thigh, carving a line along the outside edge of her beskar.

She falls to a knee, then slumps back with an agonised cry. The assailant squares up as you stumble to regain balance. Before you can do anything, he’s drawing his rifle up to your face.

‘N--!’ Your cry is cut off by the soldier in front of you jerking sideways, a violent twist as he drops dead to the ground. Behind him, two more troopers are sprinting toward you, weapons drawn. But again, first one then the other jolts as if struck and falls.

Whirling and twisting, scanning the perimeter, your eyes finally look up and you see it. The long barrel of a sniper rifle and the curved sights of the assassin’s helmet peak over the far ridge.

Fennec Shand.

You stare for a moment until Wren barks your name. It pulls you back and you see you’re being surrounded by a rank of attackers, all sporting savage-looking shock batons. Some are already being taken out by Fennec’s pinpoint cover fire. But if you don’t fucking move soon, you and Wren are doomed.

One of the squad lunges in to attack.

Reaching back, the gaffi stick slung across your shoulders swings free and you connect it with the on-comer’s chest plate, the slugged end caving it in and sending him flying backwards. You spin to slice the barbed spear across another’s throat, blood making a crescent streak across the air.

Fennec hits one in the knee and, as he drops, your weapon rises to meet his face. The helmet shatters and your blood roars.

One after another, you never stop rotating. Cries of pain from your weapon and grunts of shock from the impact of a rifle blast work the group circling you down to the ground.

When it’s clear, you look back to Fennec, hoping she can see your nod of acknowledgement through the scope. She raises an arm to you.

Then you fall to Wren’s side, where she’s gripping her wound and cursing in fury.

‘Wren,’ you start, dropping your weapon and trying to assess the damage. ‘Hang on—'

An ear-splitting siren rips the air apart. Its meaning runs your blood cold. The walker is incoming. Wren tugs at your arm, a ‘help me up’ gesture. But you shake your head, lay your own hands over hers at the top of her thigh where blood spurts from the edge of the armour plate. 

‘No, no,’ you urge her back. ‘Don’t move.’

‘Have… to…’ she grits through her helm. But even the small movement she just made causes red to well between your fingers. 

‘Shit!’ you cry. ‘Gods, Wren. Hang on… Help!’ You look around frantically, yell into the deafening chaos of battle. ‘Help!’

Hells, think clearly, would you? You shake yourself and smack your comms. ‘I need help! Wren is down.’

Within moments, two Mandalorians have landed on either side. One, in medic garb, shoves you aside and begins to tend to her leg. They tap the ground to indicate she needs evac and you hear her grunt in abject frustration. Tries to wave them off.

‘No…’ she moans. ‘Need to…’ She tries to sit up but jolts with a cry of agony. She grips a fist tight before shaking herself and slapping her own comms, muttering into her helmet. You can’t hear who she’s talking to – why is she on a different comms channel?

Another siren has you whirling, then craning your neck up, back. A huge mechanised leg raises over the first fortifications only hundreds of feet in front of you, stomps down with a thundering crash.

You cradle your ears. Terror shoots through you. Whipping around, you look for another jetpacked fighter who could get you up there. Someone, anyone. But they wouldn’t know where to place the charges. How to time it. You sense your plan being blown to hell and panic sets in. This is it – that thing is going to wipe you all out.

Another gargantuan limb brings the monster closer and sends a garrison into full retreat. The horrifying sound of the thermal cannons warming up fills your ears with a sickening buzz. There’s no way to stop it. You look up to the heavens with defeat heavy on your chest. 

That’s where you see it. A pinprick at first, but growing larger. The gorgeous old gunship streaks across the sky, threading the needle through cannon fire and laser blasts. In a sharp nosedive, the Razor Crest is on full burn on its approach to you. It turns to make a low bank and passes over your heads. A figure drops from the hold, in a rapid descent to the field of battle not far from you.

Din hits the ground with a forward roll and releases a salvo of his whistling birds into the waiting war troopers. He’s incapacitated them in a matter of seconds as you sprint toward him. Up and fighting any and everything between the two of you, he makes his way to meet you in the middle. You can’t stop yourself from barrelling into him.

He just plants a hand on your waist and pulls you close, ‘Hang on!’ he yells.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and try to stifle your cry as his jetpack engages and rockets you both upwards, soaring toward the body of the walking terror. Nothing but empty air below and laser fire raining all around, you bury your face into his neck. Through the haze of fear and adrenaline, you feel him pull you tighter.

The underside streaks toward you. He manoeuvres to ascend up the thing’s body but, just as you come level with it, the rockets on Din’s pack cut out. Suspended in the air, weightless for one terrifying moment, a scream begins to bubble up as you anticipate a precipitous drop. 

But Din fires his whipcord ahead, planting its grapple at the top and swinging your bodies into the side of the massive unit. He twists his weight so he lands squarely against the side, shielding you from impact. Dangling together from the façade of the stalking, swaying machine, he nudges at you.

‘Climb!’ he yells, urging you upwards. 

‘Your jetpack!’ you shout back. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I’ve got it, just climb now,’ he pushes. You reach up and grab the whipcord. His free hand helps you along, grabbing your legs and heaving upwards to give you purchase. You don’t know how his shoulder isn’t being torn from its joint, but he seems to be holding on. So you grit your teeth, ignore the cord cutting into your hands, and climb.

You hand over hand with the cord and plant your knees into the vertical surface. Push every shred of fear away and focus on what’s in front. Halfway up you glance back and almost scream again. Hundreds of feet below, the monstrosity steps through more barricades, nearing the centre of the fray. But you also see Din, who’s holding fast, looking up, watching you. You turn around and keep climbing. 

The second you reach the top, the whipcord whizzes back. You’re already scrambling toward the pilot hatch when Din’s voice crackles over your comms piece. ‘Just like you planned – you take the personnel, I’ve got the undercarriage.’ 

Gods, so he had been listening. 

Wind whips your face and the roar around you is deafening, but you get to the hatch and pop a thermal charge into the lock. Crawling back and shielding your head, you wait for the ‘croom ’ then leap forward, grip the edge of the opening, and swing yourself inside. The smoke and noise from the explosion has stunned your cabin buddies. They only manage a short shout of alarm before both find their necks snapping at unhappy angles.

You surge onto the portal, jabbing at controls and resetting target maps. The walker groans under the strain of turning 180, but the cockpit’s sights swing around until the advancing forces come into view. You set the target locking system and throw the lever into full drive before sending a quick blaster shot into the control panel. The guns below the cockpit begin a continuous barrage. You watch for a moment as squadrons scatter and tanks implode.

You back away and make for the hatch. Scrambling up onto topside, you hit comms.

‘Din!’ you cry. ‘We gotta go! Din?’

Instead of a reply, the Mandalorian rockets up over the edge and plants his feet metres from you. He strides forward, holding one hand to his helmet, shouting at R5 to bring in the Crest, and reaching his other arm out to you.

You don’t pause, moving in and resuming your grip on his shoulders. He holds for a second, then you’re fighting panic again as you launch upwards. This time though, you manage to keep your eyes trained down. 

You see the walker, marching back into its own lines, sending explosions into troopers and hovercannons. Then, perfectly timed, the detonators Din planted on the underside go off, buckling the legs and sending it tumbling into the central armoured column.

Good.

Then your vision is obscured and your momentum arrested. You start in alarm before making sense of the scene. The Crest has sailed elegantly into your line of ascent and Din has cut the jetpack, landing you both on the aft entry of the old gunship. It’s a heavy impact and the only reason your knees don’t collapse is the strong hold he has on you. You both stumble back into the hold of the ship.

As soon as you’re steadied, he lets go and makes for the cockpit. You give in to a brief moment of uninvited despair when he looks over his shoulder and barks, ‘C’mon!’ Then you’re following.

You allow yourself little beats to revel in being on the Crest again, but not for too long. The janky locker door that never quite shut all the way. The peeling paint on the ladder. The access panel that always flickered and whirred. Gods, you’d missed it so much. 

As you enter the cockpit, Din is taking his seat and engaging the controls from R5. You spot Grogu tucked in his pod, which is securely strapped into his flight seat. He looks over at you and waves his arms, burbling in excitement.

The seat on the other side, your seat, sits empty.

Your heart aches at the sight.

As if the ship senses it, the Crest groans and lurches nose down for a moment, forcing you forward. As Din rights its moorings, you flop back into the chair.

‘Get strapped in,’ he yells over his shoulder. He punches at the controls and brings the ship around to witness the skirmish taking place in the sky. The cockpit’s windows afford you a view of the aerial battle, so high up you can see the curvature of this moon and the combat below looking like a crawling insect colony. The fighters up here are intercepting and taking down enemy craft on approach, preventing any from breaking through to attack ground forces.

‘Just in time,’ Din says. ‘The Guild has arrived.’

‘Oh shit,’ you say, pulling the straps around and craning your neck out the window. You spot it. A hefty old transport frigate, Leaf Ghogal’s little army of bounty hunters, plugging a descent toward the edge of the fray, getting ready to drop a mess of bloodthirsty fighters right into the thick of it.

But Din seems unfazed. It puzzles you for a second before he flips the cockpit comms on and speaks to someone on the other end.

‘You’re up,’ he says.

‘Copy that, Mando my man,’ comes a reply – a painfully familiar voice. ‘Our frenemies will be taking a one-way jump to buttfuck nowhere in 3- 2- get goin’ hahaha.' 

Still eyeing the transport a ways off, you have a perfect view of it shuddering for a moment – the hyperdrive straining in the high atmosphere. With a massive shockwave, it shooms into nothingness. The energy fallout from its rapid departure collects the edge of a soaring tiefighter, taking its portside wing and sending it careening to the ground. 

‘Woo! Two fer one!’ The disembodied voice hollers and it hits you. 

‘Wha— Torre? ’ you sputter.

‘Hey dove,’ Torre’s voice echoes around the cockpit. ‘You made it.’

‘What are y-- what is-- what?’ 

‘Making up for my bullshit, hon,’ he says. ‘Or a little of it, at least.’

Din interrupts, like you aren’t in a full tailspin over this little fucking alliance going on right now.

‘Another mercenary outfit inbound,’ he says.

‘On it,’ Torre chirps, the clacking of keys being hit in rapid succession accompanying the transmission. 

You start to say ‘where?’ but Din just points. Another transport carrier trundles just behind where Leaf’s ship was. Your eyes track it as the Crest banks across the range. Huge, fit to carry upwards of two hundred combatants. Worlds, you think. If they land it’ll be a bloodbath.

But Torre’s counting down again and the boat – blip – bends out of existence. Just like that. 

‘That’s cleared,’ Din says.

‘Roger, roger,’ Torre responds.

This is too surreal. ‘Torre,’ you shout. ‘ What-- why are you doing this?’

A long sigh slips from the speakers.

‘Your Mando came and got me,’ he tells you over the comms. ‘Told me about how that fucker Cephlate used me. And how he got to you. Fuck. For that, and for the rest… Well, ‘m sorry.’

A beat of quiet as you absorb that. Then the Crest chimes in with its alert system, alarms blaring around you.

‘And speaking of the Devil,’ Torre says. ‘His craft is inbound.’

‘What?’ you yelp. ‘Cephlate is here?’ 

‘Indeed,’ Torre answers you. ‘Got his private little army in on this shitshow.’

Ice slides up and down your spine and sends cold shards to your extremities. The freeze of a carbonite unit crawls over your skin. Him. Your side aches right where your scar has steadily faded away. But it now throbs as if fresh. Your face, where he’d held onto your chin and threatened you, burns.

The only thing stopping you from succumbing to wild panic is the T visor that’s swung round to stare at you.

‘He’s not gonna touch you,’ Din snarls low. ‘Ever again.’

You lean into your chair, breathing deep into your belly as he turns back to the ship’s controls.

‘What can you do about it?’ Din asks.

‘Not much, I’m afraid. I’ve tried hacking in but he knows my tricks. All I can give you is something to aim for.’

A string of data rolls across the Crest’s targeting system, forms into a ship holo. An ugly, heavy-duty gunner-craft. Cannons and railguns weigh the beastly thing down. The holo rotates to reveal a glowing patch on the underside. Small and tucked against the exhaust latchings. You lean forward to get a good look at it. 

‘The stitch that will unravel his shields,’ Torre explains. ‘Aim for that. And he’ll be done.’

‘Okay,’ Din says. ‘I think you’re good then.’

‘Copy that.’

‘You gonna cause trouble?’

Torre’s chuckle rumbles over the speakers. ‘No worries there,’ he says. ‘Old mate Greef here hasn’t taken his pistol’s sights off me for a single second.’

‘I’ve got him, Mando,’ the high magistrate’s voice follows on. ‘We’ll take him back when the fight is over, won’t we IG?’

‘Bye then, dove,’ Torre’s voice sinks into you. ‘I’ll always be sorry.’

The transmission cuts.

Distracted by the insanity of what just happened, you miss Din’s question. He’s fiddling with settings on the HUD and, at your silence, looks back.

‘Huh?’ you ask.

‘I can’t aim for something like that and fly at the same time,’ he says. ‘So which do you want to do?’

‘Which do I--?’ You notice for the first time an addition to the instrument bank next to the flight chair you’re buckled into. A set of ship controls, twins to the ones Din’s got a hard grip on up front. Protruding just within reach. 

‘Had to get another ship mechanic to help install it, ‘m sorry,’ he says, watching you. ‘It was fiddly. The Crest did not want to cooperate. But we did it.’

‘Wh--,' you’re speechless. You reach over and they glide easily outward so you can orient them in front of you. Giving each an experimental twist, you feel the hefty tilt and take in the trigger buttons just by where your forefingers rest. ‘Oh wow… Din. But- I can’t--’

‘You can,’ he says. ‘I know it.’

Aware you can’t waste time on doubt, you heave a deep sigh. Looking at the ship holo, at the tiny opening Torre’s given you, your fingers hover over the triggers. Something inside you makes the choice. 

‘Aim,’ you say. ‘I’ll aim.’

Nodding, he spins back around and flips a switch. The controls under your palms hum with energy and a HUD blinks in front of you. The Crest shudders as its weapons system primes itself.

Hells, how are you going to fucking do this.

‘I’ll draw him onto us, tell me when you’re ready and I’ll give you an opening,’ he says. Without further ado, he pulls his own controls back and the Razor Crest soars. 

How are you going to do this.

The Mandalorian pilots his ship through a mess of crossfire and the occasional spacecraft trailing smoke and plummeting to the earth. The menacing looking ship of the outer-rim warlord comes into view and Din positions the Crest right in front of it, racing ahead and catching the enemy crew’s attention. Pulls serpentine manoeuvrers to dodge the laser fire that begins a bombardment.

How are you—

Static crackles over the comms and the sickly, savage voice of the figure you’ve had nightmares about fills the space. Delighted, arrogant and bloodthirsty. Cephlate waxes lyrical about finally having the opportunity to ‘destroy you Mando, and all you hold dear’.

But you’re barely taking it in, fixated on the targeting system and trying to fathom how you’re going to do this.  

How, how, how—

Spiralling thoughts are interrupted by a feather-soft tendril of energy nudging at the edge of your mind. It swirls against your consciousness and seems to await permission. 

You look over at Grogu, whose eyes are shut tight and hands twitch with power. The sense of connection within you grows brighter, promises aid. Begs entry.

‘Ready?’ Din calls.

‘We have this,’ you shout. Looking at the child, you let him and the Force flood your mind, whip through your senses and snake into your arms and hands, held firm on the controls. They hum harder, some awareness deep in the bowels of the ship slips into you, a quiet there you are, where have you been? You set your shoulders and shout, ‘Now!’

Din hurls a lever back and reefs on the controls. The Crest drops into a free fall. The rear thrusters cut and tip the boat so you’re looking up into the sky. Laser fire passes overhead as does Cephlate’s ship. The glint in the underside, the break in the shield, is plain as day to your heightened senses.

You, Grogu and the Crest lock onto it and your fingers move of their own volition, releasing a single pulse that streaks ahead. Where it hits home, exactly on target, a burst of crackling, festy grey energy widens from the spot, shimmering over the whole ship. The entire shield system drops away in a few heartbeats.

‘No!’ the warlord bellows. ‘You--!'

Din smacks the comms to another channel over the top of his cries. ‘Move in,’ he commands whoever’s on the other side. To you, ‘Keep firing!’

You’re already setting up to unleash an angry broadside along the bottom of the vessel. He hauls the thrusters back on and gives you a perfect bank for the barrage to take out its engine array. When the Crest clears the front of the ship, it wheels around and you can take aim at the top-mounted cannons.

You see several other Mandalorian jets and fighters move in weapons free, your little T-Wing among them. It and the rest send explosions to impact on all sides of the vessel. Your ship makes another turn and you get to pass again – feeling feral, you zero in on the bridge and send the bow of the ship up in flames.  

It’s not long before the monstrous dirigible is listing, tilting away from the centre of the fight, toward the chordal coast where the imps’ forward party had been encamped. It disappears over the rim of the small mountain range bisecting the landscape. Moments later, a spectacular explosion reaches toward the skies.

You watch it as the Crest’s trajectory evens out, sails across the cleared air. You scan the radar, friendly craft soar around you. 

Only the roar of wind and the groan of the ship fill the cockpit. You loosen your grip just slightly on the controls as a wide grin spreads across your face. You glance up at Din, seeing his shoulders steadily drop as he relaxes. You laugh.

‘Well that, felt incredible,’ you say. He starts to turn toward you.

A burst of static covers what he says back. A boisterous voice thunders over the speakers, declaring glorious victory and the imp forces scattering like baby womp rats, the jet-packed Mandalorians running them down with ease.

You listen, fidgeting a little as a weird pang starts to bother your side. 

The comms cuts to reports of mopping up but Din turns it to low, moving dials and flipping the landing gear into standby.

You keep your hands on the gunner grips in case any last-minute moves are needed, but try to sit up a little straighter to stretch out the tightness that is drawing your abdomen into a knot. The tension of the fight setting in, maybe?

Din leans back. ‘Guess we can head in,’ he says, moving to turn to you again. Your heart beats harder, damn near straining against your chest. ‘And maybe we can t—’

‘Ebbe!’

The tiny, panicked shriek from Grogu causes you both to whip around to him. Your concern twists your guts. A strange nervous vibration is working its way up your spine, into your skull and clouding your vision. Your mouth is filling with icy shards and your ears start ringing. 

‘Grogu?’ you say. ‘Baby, wha—’

‘No!’ Din surges from his chair.

‘Is he okay?’

‘Oh Gods, no, no, no!’

That’s when you realise that he’s not lunging at Grogu but toward you. And Grogu is fine, but he’s pointing to your middle with fear-filled eyes.

Din kneels before you and chants your name. ‘Hang on. Please just, hang on, love. Stay, stay with me, hey! Stay with me!’ His confusing demands grow fuzzy and further away as he talks.

You finally look down. The haze and hot tendrils clawing at your eyes make it hard to see, but that’s definitely something sticking out of your stomach. You move a hand to it. It’s hot, and vibrating with a quiet menace. Your fingers come away bloodied. ‘Ohhhh wha…’ You fade out.

--

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Forgive me.

Thank you so much for reading this weird little story.

#din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #the mandaloria/reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x f!reader

[matchawrites-n-doodles]

To Give Back

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Chapter 6: Angry Mama

Masterlist

A/N: Here it is! Thank you for your patience! :> Reblogs and likes are always welcome, even comments. It’s also not really proof read (>v>)’

Summary: Din losts the kid to Moff Gideon and finds his way back to you.

Warning: Poor plushy :<, angst, swears, Vowldike because he is, if I miss any let me know

Words: 2,684 ____________________________________________________

Chapter 5: The Spruce Blue Armor

It was just a normal, decent morning on Nevarro, except it really isn't.

Your entire body jolted yourself awake, sitting up in cold sweat after a horrible dream.

The sounds of children screaming still ringing in your ears as you cover them in panic. Frantically looking around before realizing where you are, you stared down at your feet as your eyes widen in disbelief when the dream had you focused to one particular child. You couldn't see them but you could hear their cries of help. You gulped, trying to calm your breathing, squeezing your eyes tightly, shaking the empty vision from your mind.

You frown, not wanting to remember the dream you had. Although, there's really nothing to remember about except the screams echoing in your mind. There was just darkness and you standing alone in the middle of nowhere in just your sleepwear.

As your heart starts to calm, your hearing was still muffled by your hands, so you slowly let sounds fill through your ear canals and to your ear drums. This time you could hear actual children screaming, not in fear, but with joy and in childish play. You let out a stifled gasp since you've been holding your breath. Letting yourself breathe in through your nose properly and exhaling out through your mouth. You stared down at your hands as you slowly close and tighten them.

'What the hell was that about...?' You thought.

You sighed, moving to the edge of your bed, getting ready to start your day.

...

Later in the day...

He lost the kid.

His ship is destroyed.

What's worse is that Brenmar Vowldike is alive and works along side with Moff Gideon. But before Din met the holographic image of him, Din had brought Grogu to Tython. A planet that Ashoka Tano had told him to go to. A place where a jedi could locate them.

And through Ashoka, he finally found out Grogu's name.

While in Tython, Din had encountered with Boba Fett for the first time along with Fennec Shand who he thought was dead. They had some misunderstanding but after the attack by the Imperial stormtroopers, the decision was already made to help Din rescue the child.

Unfortunately, Din lost his ship and home, the Razor Crest.

All burnt to the ground but the beskar spear he received when he was in Corvus.

And a metal ball that used to be attached to a lever in the cockpit. Which would later be one of the only play things that Grogu liked so much along side with his plushy.

Only for its arm to be ripped out of its body when Grogu got taken away by force.

Luckily, Din was able to grab what's left of the toy, feeling disheartened to see its condition, knowing that Grogu would be upset right now since he has the arm. Now it's tucked away inside the small, buttoned bag attached to his belt along with the ball.

Lastly, the beskar armor. That spruce blue armor that he'd promised you he would take care of. Feeling slightly defeated when he sees it scattered everywhere, he shook it off as he picked up each part up. Shaking the ash off of the beskar and later tying them all together and slung it over his shoulder.

His worry starts to grow with each step. Grogu is probably terrified right now and since traveling with the foundling, Din formed a strong bond with him and even considered him to be his own. His mind playing back the image of when the kid was taken away from him while one of the droids stayed behind to play a holoprojector and instead of Moff Gideon, it was Brenmar Vowldike who introduced himself to Din.

And when he first saw the man, it was with burning rage Din had felt when he found out what Vowldike wanted. Who he wanted. He had already found out about you and Din and had demanded Din to find you and return you back to him since he's a bounty hunter himself. The longer he would have to wait, the sooner he would have to send other bounty hunters after you.

Like hell Din would let that happen. However, he knew he needed to find you as soon as possible, make sure you're in a safe location. For all he know, bounty hunters are probably after you right now.

Din didn't even need to stress about where to find you because when he arrived to Nevarro with Boba and Fennec, the first thing he saw was your ship.

He'd laugh bitterly at the quick timing and for some reason, he would feel ashamed to face you and to tell you that he had broken his promise in making sure the armor was taken care of. But he reminds himself that he is a Mandalorian. And as a Mandalorian, he must face his fears and conquer them.

Din sighed as he walked down the ramp of the ship. On his way to meet with Cara first to asked about a certain person from the prison registry who can help track down the ship that Grogu was taken to.

After his talk with Cara, who is now Marshal of the New Republic, they are now walking out of the building when Cara had brought you up about how you came over to the town just a few days ago. How you decided to settle down for a bit, give yourself a break after everything you've been through and it's just as what Din had expected when he first saw your ship.

"Wouldn't you like to see her before you go?" Cara had asked when she noticed how quiet her friend is when she mentioned you. Maybe she would be willing to help.

Din took a moment, feeling hesitant but he wanted to see you so he nodded once. "Where is she?"

"Here." Cara handed over your address to Din, smirking, "I'm sure she'd be happy to see you. She talks and asks about you a lot when she first came here. She's a pretty good one." She claimed, patting him on the shoulder.

"Alright, I'll see you in a bit." She elbowed his arm teasingly before setting off, leaving him alone.

Din felt his body froze, watching Cara walk off. You were asking about him? And what the hell was that supposed to mean? He looked down at the paper, suddenly feeling nervous.

...

He continued walking, looking left to right for the right house. Realizing how much farther he needed to go, he picked up the pace as time is ticking. The kid needs him. The kid needs you.

Picking up the pace once more, his hand went over to the small bag that has the plushy when he later realize he's in front of a house. And not just any house. Your house. A pretty small comfy home, located a bit farther away from the other homes. Which seems to suit you actually.

He's hesitant however. Standing in front of the door but his hand refused to move. What's he going to say? How are you going to react once you realize Grogu's gone? Would he have to relocate you? No, you're capable of taking care of yourself, seeing how you took down that thug long ago.

He sighed, letting his shoulders fall back and telling himself to calm down. He took a deep breath and as he was going to knock,

"Din?"

His fist paused mid-air when he heard your familiar voice.

"Din, is that you?" He turned and there you are, holding two bags of groceries. Seeing that bright smile of yours seemed to ease his nerves but the thought of the kid brings it back up. And the fact that the tiredness is shown through your eyes is quite alarming to him as well. However, he's still relieved to see that you're okay.

"Hey..."

Your smile began to get smaller as your eyes fill with worry which caused Din to frown. He didn't like that look but he knew it's going to get a lot worse once he tells you the real reason why he's here.

"What are you doing here? You missed me?" You asked, grinning as you walk up to him. Din's heart skipped a beat. Of course he does, but he didn't want to admit that aloud to you.

You find yourself searching around him and he would noticed.

"Where's... the kid?" You asked, sounding sad and assuming that they must of found a Jedi and parted ways. But as your eyes met with the black visor, your heart starts to thump harder. 

Din felt your eyes meet his. He'd felt speechless and drawn to you by your appearance. Despite how tired you look, you being in a simple outfit and somehow, oddly enough, his mind became elsewhere. He snapped out of it when he noticed the confused look on your face, tilting your head at him for being silent for a while. He cleared his throat, placing his hand over his small bag and you watched, raising an eyebrow.

"I need to talk to you." He finally said.

You bit your lip and nodded. Something was wrong and you can feel that sickening feeling from this morning start to reappear in your stomach.

"Inside." You simply said and he nodded, standing aside to let you pass to your door. He watched as you fumbled with your groceries to one arm, making him grab both of them for you as he mumbled 'here'. You blinked, surprised before giving him a small smile, mumbling a 'thanks' back to him. You hurryingly grabbed your keys from your pocket and opened the door to your house and waltz right in with the metal man following behind.

Once he's in, you closed the door behind him, letting him know he can set the bags on the table.

You asked if he would like something to drink in which he would decline. So you only leaned on your table next to him on his right side. You looked at him and you could tell by his shoulders by how it's slumped that he's stressed out.

You took a second before placing your hand out in front of him for him to take. He took one look at it before grabbing your hand with his gloved one, squeezing gently and tightly.

"I'm guessing you're not here to just visit me, huh? Din?" You asked, despite the worry in your voice, it would always seem to bring comfort to Din, but he reminded himself that right now isn't the time. Grogu needs you. That he knows.

So to start, he pulled out the one armed plushy from his pocket and when you first saw it, you gasped  taking it to examine the damage. If this was a different situation, Din would of chuckled when you mumbled, 'Oh no, Froggy.'  You looked at him, eyes full of questions and concerns, and Din immediately knew what you were going to ask.

"It was Gideon. He has the kid." He looked back at you, starting to get serious and then placing his hands on the sides of your arms, "He has Grogu..."

The unfamiliar name made you tilt your head slightly at him. As soon as it clicked, your eyes widen and if this was a different situation, you would of been beaming right now. Realizing that Grogu is that kid's name.

"Grogu..." you repeated, feeling your heart wrenched. Din nodded.

"—And there's someone else and he's after you." He became hesitant before continuing, "I can bring you somewhere safe if you'd like-"

Shaking your head almost aggressively, you asked calmly, a hint of anger laced in your voice, "Who?" The stern look on your face made Din pause for a moment. You gave a clear message to him that there's no way, he's sending you away to somewhere safe. Not when Grogu's in trouble, that poor lil bean you love so much.

"It's Vowldike." As soon as his name slipped out, you froze.

Your hands tighten, nearly squeezing the plush but you stopped yourself before you damage it even more. This precious plushy belonged to the kid and you wouldn't want to ruin it. You felt raging heat rise from your chest, and instead of the fear you've been having all morning, it was rage. And Din could see the flames in your eyes and how you shook with anger.

"Vowldike's alive. That no good osi'yaim never stops, does he?" You scowled. You looked down at the plushy's dark eyes which reminded you of Grogu's. The way that lil bean looked up at you with a smile on his face.

You imagined the terrified look on his face when he got taken, making you winced and closed your eyes. You unconsciously move your head down forward and onto Din's shoulder. You brought the plush to your chest and cradling it like how you would with Grogu.

He'd froze but hearing you whimper out Grogu's name with worry caused him to wrap his arms around you, pulling you to him. His left arm around your waist and his right hand on your head gently, feeling a little awkward at the new and bizarre contact he would have with anyone besides the kid. Especially with someone like you, but since you didn't pull away, and grabbing hold on to his clothing, it encouraged him to hug you even tighter. "I'll get him back."

Your eyes opened, leaning more onto his shoulder. The rage you felt at the thought of Vowldike even touching Grogu's little wrinkly head never left and hearing Din say that he'll get him back alone, brought determination.

Yes, the thought of the man you despised of scared you... But the thought of him hurting someone you cared about is even greater. If Vowldike ever lays a hand on either Grogu or Din, or both, you going to make sure you'd be the last person he would ever see before his final breath.

"You mean we'll get him back." You let out, making Din look at you to see the expression on your face. A new side of you he has never seen. Anger, determined, hatred all at once.

You're not like the you from years ago from when he first saw you. All broken and beat down by the same man who made your life hell. Or the you who smiled and showed kindness to him and Grogu not too long ago.

No. You're not those all of those things, but you're still all of them. It's what makes you who you are. Right now is the type to give those who deserves what's coming. To give them hell and make them pay.

Din's lips parted at the sight of you, not at all weirded out, but in awed at how beautiful you looked. 

As of right now, you couldn't really tell what Din is thinking. When he slowly loosens his arms around you, you realized what just happened and you looked down, feeling a little embarrassed, thinking about what he thinks of you now. 

You huffed, feeling that enough is enough to feel this way. You rubbed your eyes to get rid of the dried up tears before backing a few inches from him. He tilt his head as his arms fell to his sides to see the pink on your cheeks as you turned your body away to head to your room. 

"What are you doing...?" His words trailed off, hearing you rustling around in your room. 

"We can't waste any more time." He hears that strong, determined tone in your voice, and with the thought of bringing back the kid, he kept his head up high as he crossed his arms over his chest with his shoulders squared.

Then he hears a loud thump from your staff hitting the ground and he watched as you walked back out of the room with said weapon and a satchel sling over your shoulder. Walking towards him with confidence. 

"Let's get our kid back and go wipe the smile off of that rotten, dirty hut'uun and kill him, shall we?" You said with a smirk as you walked past the Mandalorian, patting him on the shoulder. Glancing at him as you do and he would watch.

He likes this side of you. In fact, he loves it.

Also did you just said 'their' kid?

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Chapter 7 Coming Soon…

Mando’a Translations:

osy’yaim: shithead, useless, despicable person

hu’tunn: coward (worst possible insult)

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