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hyperactively-me · 3 months

Text

tension

You've seen his face countless times, but every time the helmet comes off, it's as though you're seeing him for the first time over and over again. His expression is more than it's normal stoicism; it's vulnerable, raw. His big brown eyes come into contact with yours as you reach up, your fingers gently brushing through his messy curls. Din closes his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the contact. "Hi there, handsome," you murmur softly, allowing your fingers to linger on his strands of hair. "You clean up well, don't you?"

massaging din’s sore, aching muscles ... leads to ... yeah. I'M SORRY (not sorry at all) PUT ME IN HORNY JAIL FOR THIS IDC. it started off so innocent but then the horny monster came out and took over.

tags: smut, OILED UP DIN DJARIN, I REPEAT, OILED UP DIN DJARIN. established relationship

Din has no issue praising and worshipping you with nothing but love and adoration. In fact, it feels like second nature to him.

When he's the object of your praises, though, he doesn't know how to act. He's caught off guard by your doting attention, your quiet praises, your gentle touches.

The gruff exterior that comes so naturally to him becomes a bit more pronounced when faced with compliments and affection.

His usual response was to deflect and downplay, wanting to be the one in control, the one doing the praising rather than receiving it. It's not that he didn't appreciate your words; it's just that the vulnerability of accepting them was difficult for him.

In those moments, you read his body language like the back of your hand. You could see the conflict in his eyes, a mixture of gratitude and discomfort. He had been alone for most of his time in this cruel galaxy, had spent so long being self-reliant, not needing validation from others, that being on the receiving end of such genuine affection challenged his identity of being the stoic, impenetrable Mandalorian.

So, when he finally comes back to the Razor Crest after catching an elusive bounty, you know exactly what to do to put him at ease, to show him how much you love him, your riduur.

You catch his hand before he can take any of his armor off.

"Don't. Let me do it," you say gently, tugging his hand away.

He stares at you with that ever stoic expression you know he has on his face right now beneath the helmet. A few beats pass, and he relents, letting his wrist fall limp in your grip.

"Thank you," you whisper quietly, now running your hands up his shoulders.

You start with his baldric and belt, catching it in your grip as you unfasten the clasps. It's surprisingly heavy in your hands, and you're already a bit weary to take off the beskar.

Next, you slip his worn brown cape off his shoulders, the rough material scraping across your fingers. You can still feel traces of warmth around the part that was settled around his neck and shoulders.

Din stands before you, now with his baldric, belt, and cape out of the way, the beskar armor still encases his form. You take a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship of the beskar, tracing the shiny metal with your fingertips. The material is cool to the touch, a stark contrast to the warmth of his body you can barely feel radiating off his form. Din still stands rigid, hands flexing at his side.

His gaze remains steady, a silent acknowledgment of your request. You take charge again, delicately unfastening the clasps of his shoulder pads and removing the plates, and you can feel just how tense even just his shoulders are.

You set them gently to the side and start to work on his chest plate, easing it away from his torso with careful precision. The beskar plates release with a loud clinking sound, revealing the fabric of his flight suit beneath. You can clearly see Din's chest rise and fall with a steadiness that betrays the controlled exterior he presents to the world. With a small grunt, you ease the heavy beskar chestplate to the side, shooting Din a look when he tries to take it from your grasp.

"You said you would let me do it," you whisper, a playful yet stern glint in your eyes.

He sighs through the voice transmitter, yet allows you to continue your process of taking his armor off.

His shoulders sag forward ever so slightly as the weight of the chest plate is removed from his body, grunting with relief as he rolls his shoulders back a few times.

Next, you move on to his vambraces, unlocking the beskar from his arms. As you work on removing the vambraces, the sleeves of his flight suit ride up and you notice the subtle scars and markings on Din's forearms. You're careful to not drop the one loaded with bullets and other small weaponry.

Your hands move with a practiced gentleness, and you can sense Din's quiet appreciation for the care you're taking.

As the small pieces of armor joins the growing collection of beskar beside you, the room is filled with a sense of intimacy, a shared vulnerability palpable between you two.

Din stands before you now, the upper half of his body free from the encasement of armor. The warmth of his skin is more perceptible, and you can see a slight relaxation in his demeanor.

You move lower now, unfastening the straps securing the beskar that adorns his thighs. Your hands brush against his skin, and that's when he starts to shift side to side. You smile to yourself as you set the pieces to the side, letting your hands drag from the back his knees down to his shins to remove the final pieces.

Beskar greaves protect his shins, and you get on your knees to remove them. You don't miss the way his breath catches in his throat at the sight of you on your knees before him, but he refuses to move a muscle.

Carefully, you unfasten the straps securing the beskar greaves, allowing them to slide down his shins. Your hands move with a deliberate gentleness as you catch them, setting them on top of the stack of armor. Now that all of his armor is removed, you can clearly tell Din is now more relaxed, not as rigid.

His head his angled directly at you, the black t-visor of his helmet piercing through you. You smile softly up at him, pushing yourself to standing but not without him grabbing your hand to help you up.

You know what he's thinking. You know what he wants. He'll just never say it.

You press up onto your toes, placing your hands on his shoulders. His hands finally move, coming to rest on your waist as you lean into where you think his ear would be.

"Later," you whisper seductively, and he firmly squeezes your waist in his grip.

You take a step back, now turning your focus back to his leather gloves. Taking his left hand in yours, you spread his fingers out so you're able to slip his glove off his easier. The leather glove comes off smoothly, revealing his calloused yet gentle hand beneath. You set the glove aside, repeating the action on his other hand.

Din watches you with that unyielding gaze, his helmeted face betraying no emotions, and the tension in the air does anything but subside.

As you remove the second glove, you can't help but admire his hands; how large they, how strong they are. They're the tools of a warrior: skilled and precise, calloused and graceful. With his hands now bare, you step closer to him, your fingers tracing the lineaments of his palm. The warmth of his skin contrasts with the coolness of the beskar that once covered him. His hands are strong, yet there's a gentleness in the way he allows you to explore them.

You finally look up to his helmet, clicking your tongue with disapproval. You couldn't really get his shirt off without stretching out the neck over his helmet, and we can't have that, can we? Poor shirt, all stretched out. Oh well! Looks like we have to see your beautiful riduur's face!

You run your hands on the underside of his helmet, tracing the hard edges with the pads of your fingers. Suddenly, you latch onto the edges and slowly start to pull it up and off his head. Din's breath catches as the helmet is lifted, his nose twitching ever so slightly.

The helmet comes clean off, revealing his face, his dark hair tousled from the snug fit. You're met with his intense gaze, and for a moment, your own breath catches in your throat.

You've seen his face countless times, but every time the helmet comes off, it's as though you're seeing him for the first time over and over again.

His expression is more than it's normal stoicism; it's vulnerable, raw. His big brown eyes come into contact with yours as you reach up, your fingers gently brushing through his messy curls. Din closes his eyes for a brief moment, savoring the contact.

"Hi there, handsome," you murmur softly, allowing your fingers to linger on his strands of hair. "You clean up well, don't you?"

His lips twitch in a hint of a smile, eyebrows quirking at your playful comment.

"Are you going to finish, cyar'ika? Or are you going to finish undressing me with just your eyes?"

You roll your eyes at his remark, fighting back a laugh at his nonchalant comment.

"I guess I do have some unfinished business," you reply, hands tugging at the hem of his shirt.

You guide his shirt up and over his head, pulling it off his form and letting it fall to the floor. You're met with his tanned, toned chest, marked with scars, the silent stories of the battles he's fought.

You run your fingers lightly over the contours of his chest, savoring the feeling of his tight muscles and soft stomach. He shivers under your touch at the way your nails drag across his skin, pressing into it ever so slightly. Din watches you closely, his gaze never leaving your hands. With a soft smile, you lean in, pressing a gentle kiss to his skin between his shoulder and upper chest.

Din's fingers find their way to your hair, but you pull back, now grabbing the waistband of his pants. You tug them down quickly, helping him step out of the pant legs, but leaving him in his loose boxers.

You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers with his, and guide him to the bed. There's no rush, no urgency. For both of you, it's a moment to savor, to appreciate each other in a quiet, peaceful moment. Before he lies down, you pull him down for a chaste kiss, savoring the way his lips taste, the way his patchy mustache tickles your face. As he finally moves to lay down, you wordlessly motion for him to lie on his stomach, and he complies. He settles onto the bed, propping himself up with his forearms.

You retrieve a bottle of oil from a nearby table, and the gentle scent of lavender fills the air as you warm the liquid between your palms. You straddle his lower back, and immediately Din is biting his tongue to withhold any premature sounds.

The moment your hands come into contact with his broad shoulders, he's a goner. Your touch is firm yet tender, your fingers finding all of his knots and tension, coaxing them to release.

The room is quiet, save for the occasional satisfied hum or grunt from Din. As your hands move down his back, tracing the contours of his muscles, you slowly feel the tension in his body dissipating.

Your fingers trace the faint lines of his scars, and you can't help but marvel at the beauty of the man beneath you. He finds solace in your touch, a promise that in this moment, he can let go and just relax.

Din's body responds to your touch, his tension gradually melting away. Your hands move with a soothing rhythm, exploring every inch of his back and shoulders. The oil makes his skin glisten in the soft light of the room, and you revel in the way his body looks as though it was carved by the Maker himself.

As your hands work their way down his spine, you occasionally lean down to press soft kisses on his back. The combination of your mouth and hands on him causes Din to shudder, the sensations pulling him into a deep state of tranquility. The rise and fall of his breath shifts into something more rapid, yet you don't catch on quite yet. You lean down, pressing a soft kiss to the nape of his neck, and he responds with a soft hum of contentment

Shifting off his back, you move down to his thighs and calves, continuing to massage his muscles with the same deliberate care. His fingers twist into the thin sheets of his bed, groaning as you knead into his thighs. The tension in Din's muscles seems to subside even more as you move farther down his legs, the oil dripping from your hands creating a smooth glide as you knead his skin.

As your hands move down his legs towards his feet, you notice the subtle tremor in his muscles, a sign that your touch might be affecting him more than he's letting on. You can't see that he's biting the inside of his cheek, stifling every pathetic groan he wants to let out.

You reach the soles of his feet, and he reflexively curls his toes at the sensation. A small chuckle escapes your lips, and you gently press your thumbs into the arches of his feet, eliciting a low, appreciative groan from him.

With a soft smile, you decide to shift the massage to his upper back and shoulders again, allowing your hands to linger in the areas that are the most tense from his heavy beskar. As your fingers work their magic, you lean in close to whisper in his ear.

"Almost done," you murmur, your warm breath sending shivers down his spine. "Does it feel good?"

Din responds with a throaty, affirmative noise, and you can't help but smile at the effect you're having on your typically stoic Mandalorian.

Your hands trace patterns over his skin, kneading, massaging, and occasionally trailing higher than expected. His breathing becomes more uneven, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body.

The atmosphere in the room drastically changes from innocent and relaxed to something more sultry, the air thick with repressed tension. You can sense Din's arousal, the subtle shifts in his breathing, the way his muscles tense beneath your every little touch. A playful smile crosses your lips, realizing the effect you're having on the usually composed man.

The occasional brush of your fingers against more sensitive areas elicits involuntary reactions from Din, his groans growing more audible.

"Enjoying this, aren't you?" you tease, your voice a sultry whisper as you lean down to place soft kisses along his shoulder blades.

"Teasing me, aren't you?" he growls back, looking back at you with a heated expression.

"Maybe a little." You smile innocently. "But the best things are worth the wait, aren't they?"

Din responds with a low, husky chuckle, a sound that reverberates through the room.

"Yes," he states simply, his voice catching in his throat when you slide off his back.

You beckon him to turn over onto his back, and he complies. Once again, you straddle him, now sitting directly on his hips, over his crotch. Taking more lavender scented oil, you lather it onto your hands and start to knead into his chest. His hands reach up to grip your ass, squeezing your flesh.

You feel Din's chest rise and fall faster as your hands start to work over his toned muscles. The oil slicks up his chest, and your fingers glide smoothly over his skin. You can practically feel his desire for you that simmers beneath the surface, threatening to boil over. Din's gaze is intense, and you meet it with a playful yet innocent smile.

"Fuck, cyare," he groans as his hands trail up your sides, the touch possessive yet gentle.

As your hands continue their ministrations on his chest, you lean down to capture his lips in a searing kiss. The taste of his mouth is intoxicating, and Din responds with a hunger that surpasses your own. His hands tighten on your hips, pulling you to grind you down over his crotch, and you can feel the pressure of his cock against your core.

"Easy there, Din," you murmur as you pull away from his lips. "We've got plenty of time."

The sound of his name rolling off your lips never gets old to him, and he shudders at the sound.

You sit back, your hands now trailing down his abdomen as you move to sit in between his thighs. Grabbing his hands, you knead into his palms with your thumbs, maintaining an eye contact that you know drives him absolutely crazy. Din's eyes are dark with arousal, and he watches you with a hunger that sends shivers down your spine.

Eventually, you finish the massage after you feel the tension fully dissipate from Din's body. He lies there, relaxed and content, basking in the afterglow of your touch.

Without waiting any longer, you finally give the man what he wants. You bring his hand up to your mouth, and without hesitation, you stick two of his fingers in your mouth. Your tongue swirls around his thick digits as you maintain eye contact with him, eliciting a low growl to escape from the depths of Din's throat.

"You- you fuckin' tease, mesh'la," he growls as he starts to sit up. You take your free hand and push him back down, not letting him sit up.

You push his fingers deeper into your mouth, sucking them harder as your tongue runs over the pads of his fingers. Your other hand comes up to his thigh, resting dangerously close to his now fully erect yet still clothed cock.

After a moment, you release his fingers with a wet pop, a mischievous glint in your eyes. Din's breathing has become more ragged, his chest rising and falling rapidly with anticipation and arousal.

"Feeling better?" you ask innocently, sliding your hands up and down his thighs.

Din nods, swallowing thickly as he locks his eyes onto yours. Without breaking eye contact, you start to slide off your shirt, slowly revealing your skin beneath. Din's gaze intensifies as you slowly lift it up and off your form. Once your shirt is fully off, you let Din rove over your form, and you revel in the way he looks at you with a thirst that mirrors your own.

He tries to reach out for you again, but you stop him.

"I'm still not done. Be patient," you say gently, wiggling your eyebrows at him.

"Mesh'la, how can I be? I have to reward you; you've been so good to me, too good for me—"

You press a finger up to his lips, silencing him.

"Please, let me make you feel good. Please. You always take care of me. Let me take care of you. 'M gonna make you feel so good."

He takes a beat, studying your face with his mouth slightly agape.

Finally, he nods in agreement, his eyes on fire. You remove your finger from his lips, giving him a sickeningly sweet smile.

Your hands trail over his shiny, slick chest, down to the waistband of his boxers. Din's fingers twist in his bedsheets, a silent reaction for what he wants: more.

With deliberate intent, you dip your fingers beneath the waistband, teasingly close to his cock. His arousal is quite evident, straining against the fabric, and your fingers brush over his length; a feather light, teasing touch. He watches you with a hunger that's impossible to ignore, and you can't help but feel giddy at the way you make him feel so good, so appreciated, so loved.

Din inhales sharply, his knuckles going white at the grip he has on his sheets. You move your hands back up and delicately hook your fingers into the waistband, pulling it down slowly. The boxers slide down his legs, revealing his cock, and you discard the fabric on the floor.

You take a moment to appreciate your Mandalorian naked in front of you, vulnerable, and yet as powerful as ever in his raw masculinity. What a sight for sore eyes. Every square inch of his skin is coated in the lavender oil, his skin shining under the dim lighting of the Razor Crest. His body is sculpted perfectly, strong and lean, the power of his muscles evident from one look. The scars that span his skin, small and large, have their own story. You reach out, tracing the lines of a particularly prominent scar on the side of his abdomen with gentle fingertips.

Din studies you with a soft intensity, his eyes holding a warmth that he reserves for you, and only for you.

Your eyes trail up to his face, studying every lineament and pore, every little hair and freckle. He's so extremely handsome you could pass out.

How he chose you, you're not sure. All you know is that this man who has promised to be your protector, stay by your side, and be your partner loves you, and you love him.

"You're beautiful," you murmur, pure admiration coursing through your veins as your fingers now trace the curve of his jaw and the contour of his lips. "Absolutely perfect, in every single way. My big, strong, handsome riduur."

Din's mind goes blank, face and ears heating up as his mouth falls agape. He just studies your eyes, your lips, your nose, every little unique feature you have. Swallowing thickly, Din nods his head just a fraction of an inch, but you catch it; he's acknowledging your words, accepting them in his own way.

Your fingers finally find their way down the shaft of his cock, shifting your attention to his member. His breath hitches as your hand wraps around the base, and you begin to move in a slow, teasing rhythm. His eyes flicker to the sight of your hand wrapped around his cock, staring at the way you pump your fist up and down. Your thumb brushes over the sensitive tip, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Din.

You lean in, pressing a tender kiss to the base of his neck, then to his chest. You start to kiss down further, from the top of his chest to his happy trail.

"Kriff..." he mutters, his hands loosely grabbing at your face.

You keep moving, now pressing kisses on the length of his member. His grip becomes sloppier as your lips trail down his cock towards the tip, pressing a feather light kiss on his leaking slit. He grunts as the sensation, sensitive and aching for your pretty lips to be wrapped around his cock. You give a swirl of your tongue around the tip, earning a sharp, deep moan from Din.

"Kriffing- perfect," he groans, his hips bucking a few times at your touch, begging you for more. His fingers weave through your hair, a silent encouragement.

With that, you finally lower your mouth over his cock, eliciting a long, drawn out moan from the man. You rest your hands on the base of his cock, pumping the bottom half of his length while your mouth takes the top half. Din absolutely revels in the way your mouth feels against his cock; hot, wet, and velvety soft. His head rolls back against his pillow as your hands squeeze tight around the base, stimulating every inch of his length. You take him in your mouth inch by inch, sucking his cock gently at first, but providing more pressure the farther down you go.

"Fuck— fuck- ing perfect, pretty girl," he groans breathlessly, making you hum in satisfaction. His hips involuntarily buck up as he feels the vibrations from your hum, causing the tip of his cock to poke the back of your throat. You choke on it, but you steady your breath enough to keep going down.

Din fights the urge to fuck your mouth, gripping onto his sheets tightly with one hand as his other hand tugs at your hair. You release a quiet moan of your own when he pulls your hair, encouraging you to take him deeper.

Din's eyes are half-lidded now, a primal need burning within them. He watches you with an intensity that makes your own desire flare. His sounds of pleasure, the way his hands feel on you has yourself throbbing with need, your core painfully clenching around nothing. Your panties are surely soaked through by now, your arousal having built up just by making him feel good. You press your thighs together, alleviating the throbbing pressure in your pussy.

You continue to move with purpose, lowering your hands to knead his oily thighs as you take his entire length in your mouth, the tip of cock hitting the back of your throat with each bob of your head. You suck your cheeks in, running your tongue along a prominent vein with each stroke.

His ragged breaths and the soft squelch of your saliva and mouth on his cock fill the room, and suddenly, Din is pawing at you. The need for more becomes undeniable, and Din, unable to restrain himself any longer, pulls you up with a sense of urgency.

"Wanna- come in you—" he gasps, pulling at your neck.

You press your thighs tighter together at his admission, moaning on his cock.

"Kriff, cyar'ika, j- just, please," he grunts, and you lift your head off his cock, saliva dripping down your chin.

When you finally look up at him, his eyes are blown wide with need, and he's fully sitting up now. You feel the sudden shift as he drags you onto his lap, his still erect cock pressing into your stomach. You push up onto your knees as Din's hand desperately claws at the hem of your pants, yanking both your pants and panties off at the same time as he mouths the tops of your still covered breasts. Once your bottoms are off, he unclasps your bra expertly, letting it fall to the side.

Once you're bare in front of him, he laps his tongue over your breast, sucking at your nipple as his other hand squeezes and massages your other. The sensation send an electric jolt through your body, and a soft moan escapes your lips. Din's touch is both possessive and tender, his free hand coming to knead the flesh of your ass.

In one solid motion, Din is lifting you up high by your hips, positioning you over his cock. Utterly desperate and aching for your cunt around his cock, he slams your hips down, splitting you open on his cock inside your dripping cunt. Your hands fly up to his shoulders, a warbled scream and moan slipping from the both of you as he plunges deep inside of you, filling you up perfectly. You give yourself a moment to breath, steadying your breath. When he rolls his hips once, you whimper.

"Maker, y- you feel so good," you moan, biting your bottom lip in pleasure.

You squeeze his cock tightly, back arching as you feel every ridge of his cock inside you. His hands squeeze your hips tightly as your hands run down to his chest, and you start placing open mouthed, messy kisses on his jawline and neck. He lets you adjust around him, giving you some time to feel his cock molded perfectly inside you.

"Take me so good...s- so kriffing p- perfect, my beautiful riduur," he growls, fondling your breasts as you sit on his cock. Your thighs press against his as you try to clench your thighs at his words, darting your tongue out to give his skin kitten licks.

Ever so slowly, you start to roll your hips against his, moaning at the sensation. Din hisses, forehead falling on your sternum, his hot breath fanning against your breasts.

"Riduur," he groans again, darting his tongue out over the tops of your breasts again. "Ride me."

Your hands find their way into his dark curls, tugging at them lightly as you start to lift yourself up his cock. The drag of your pussy against Din's cock makes him shudder in pure ecstasy, moving his head to rest in the crook of your neck.

"You- you're the best thing that's e- ever happened to me," you whisper in his ear, then you sink all the way back down on his cock.

He moans, sucking bruises onto the junction between your shoulder and neck. Din's face is flushed from your words and the way you feel on top of him. You lift yourself up a few inches and drop back down, relishing in the way he feels underneath you.

"Never thought I'd find s- someone like you, cyare," he admits in his gravelly voice, tightening his grip on you. "Someone I- I could c- come back to."

"You're m- my home, Din," you reply, your voice a breathy whisper.

You start to set a steady pace, rocking and grinding on his cock. Din grunts at the sudden change in pace, helping you up and off his cock as his broad hands help lift you up and down by your hips. With each bounce, his cock stretches you out deliciously, dragging along your slick walls with ease.

You move your hand down to your catch your clit, circling the bud slowly, building up the pressure bubbling in your core. Your back arches as you start to tease yourself, pussy clenching harder around his cock. Din's head is thrown back in pleasure, hands firmly on your hips as you keep bouncing, reveling in the way you squeeze slightly tighter around him.

Your walls start to flutter around him at the stimulation of your clit, picking up the pace as you chase your orgasm. You lock eyes with his, the rhythm of your hips against his causing him to paw at every square inch of your body.

With your free hand, you guide his strong jaw towards your face, capturing his lips in a searing, passionate kiss. You don't stop moving on top of his cock as you slip your tongue into his mouth, sucking and nibbling on his bottom lip with each kiss. His lips are warm and demanding against yours, responding with a fervor that has you leaning back.

The taste of Din is intoxicating, yet something you can never quite put your finger on. His low growls mix with your soft moans, your hands threading in his curls.

Din breaks the kiss, but rests his forehead on yours. His pants mingle with yours, warm breath tickling your nose.

"Can't believe I'm so lucky," Din grits, and without hesitation, he deftly maneuvers you until you're lying on your back.

You admire the way his chest heaves with a controlled intensity as he hovers over you, his cock still fully sheathed inside you to the hilt. Moving his hands, he presses your legs up against your chest, angling them in such a way to allow for a deeper penetration. The newfound angle sends waves of pleasure coursing through each of you, each movement building up the pressure in your lower muscles.

"Maker, Din," is all you can say as his cock reaches deeper inside you. You're utterly engrossed in everything about him; how perfectly he fucks you, how he protects you, how he always puts others before himself, how he never backs down from a challenge.

You watch as his mouth drops open when he starts to move again, pounding into you with a slow, measured pace. Every motion has your hot, soaking walls sucking him in greedily.

"Fuck me so perfectly, you're perfect," you murmur as Din pulls your legs up onto his hips, effectively spreading you wide open. His whole chest presses flush against yours, kissing your words away when he leans in.

Your hands fly down to grip his forearms that cage you under his body, nails pressing into his skin as he fucks you slowly. Each thrust is met with a soft whimper into Din's mouth as he takes his time, relishing the way your chest feels against his own. The measured pace of his movements builds a heavy tension in your core, drawing out the pleasure and anticipation with each deliberate stroke.

Din's hand finds your clit again, pressing his thick digits against your swollen bud. The added pressure sends electric pulses through your body, and your back arches involuntarily as the pleasure intensifies. Your pussy clenches around his cock, drawing a throaty groan from Din, who revels in the tight embrace of your walls.

"So strong, s- so good," you gasp, your words punctuated by your unrestrained sounds of pleasure.

"S' perfect, cyare," he murmurs against your lips breathlessly, pressing a kiss on your lips once again. He nips and bites at your bottom lip relentlessly. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling his face closer to you as you mewl into his mouth. Your fingers find their way back into his soft hair, scratching your fingernails on the base of his scalp.

With each enthusiastic response from you, he quickens his pace, the unforgiving rhythm pushing you both closer to the edge.

The feeling of his cock moving inside you faster and harder elicits a cascade of moans and whimpers from your lips, your clit being stimulated nearly to the point of your impending release. He's fucking you hard into the mattress, unrelenting in the way he wants to feel every part of you.

Din, ever the attentive man, knows you're about to cum just from the way your face contorts, from the way your body reacts to the slightest touch.

You can also feel him nearing the edge, the tension in his body reaching its peak with each stroke. His skin is warm and still slick with the lavender-scented oil, intoxicating your senses and making your mind go blank.

"Please, come in me," you beg, wrapping your legs around Din's waist to pull him closer to you. "Please, please, Din."

His skin glides against yours, your hands travel across the expanse of his back, feeling the flex of his muscles as he moves with unrestrained strength.

Din's eyebrows are pinched in pleasure, mouth parted open as he pants. His fingers find the sweet spot of your clit, causing you to nearly scream in pleasure.

"That's it," Din encourages, coaxing your orgasm out of you as he maintains the pressure around your sweet spot.

Before you know it, you're cumming around Din's cock. The first contraction of your cunt around his cock has Din shuddering from his own orgasm, the feelings of your muscles spasming around him pushing him over the edge. His breathing is erratic, hot against your skin.

You writhe underneath Din, whimpering his name as you ride out your orgasm. Din pulls you in for a messy kiss as he cums inside of you, cupping your jaw with one hand as he guides your lips to his in a searing kiss.

Settling down from his orgasm, Din falls on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

Your hands run up and down his back, soothing him with the light scratching of your nails against his skin.

The gentle scratching of your nails against Din's back seems to lull him into a state of relaxation, his body going lax on top of yours. His breath and mustache tickles the sensitive flesh of your neck.

Both of you are still panting, trying to catch your breaths from your shared climax. Din's weight atop of you feels grounding, a comforting, welcoming presence that reminds you once again that he is yours.

"Feel better?" you inquire softly, your hands coming to rest around his neck.

Din lifts his head, his eyes meeting yours with a tenderness he reserves only for you.

Din mumbles in agreement, his body completely pliant in your hands. His chest rises and falls in a steady rhythm, the remnants of his panting gradually subsiding.

"Thank you," he murmurs, eyes studying your face intently. "Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum."

Your fingers move from his neck to gently trace lines over Din's flushed cheeks, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

"I love you."

Din's eyes soften even more. His hands, calloused and strong, come up to gently cradle your face. Thumbs brush over your cheeks in a tender caress, as if he's committing the feeling to memory.

He pulls you in for another kiss, a sweet, tender meeting of your lips in the aftermath of your care for him.

A thank you, if you will.

As Din's lips part from yours, he rests his forehead against yours, and you can feel the warmth of his breath mingling with yours.

You snuggle close to him, the scent of lavender surrounding you both. In the quiet aftermath, the only sound that remains is the beating of your hearts.

. . .

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) Masterlist

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beskarandblasters · 7 months

Text

A Good Friend to Have

Sub!Din Djarin x Dom/F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author's note: So this fic was actually written by my boyfriend! (& edited by me) This is the first fic he's ever written and it's honestly so fucking good. @wannab-urs and @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin can attest to that! He came up with the plot all by himself!! I'm so proud of him!! He let me post his for y'all during my little break🖤

Summary: You and your friend work at a brothel on Coruscant, while work is slow she reveals that she owes a debt to a loan shark who is willing to pay out a bounty to anyone who brings her in. When a Mandalorian shows up at the brothel you do everything you can think of to distract the bounty hunter and buy her time to escape.

Word count: 4k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, sex work, edging, orgasm denial, dom/sub dynamic, masturbation, vaginal sex, helmet stays on, helmet riding, disrespect of the creed, no use of y/n

It’s a cold, rainy night on Coruscant and you've been working with your friend, a twi'lek named Sorrana, at the brothel since sundown. Work has been slow tonight, you don’t think much of it, chalking it up to customers warming themselves with drinks at the local cantinas. To kill some time you exit your chambers and check in with Sorrana, who you find in her chamber acting nervous. You catch her holding the tips of her cones resting on her shoulders while she paces the room.

“Hey I just wanted to stop by and maybe see if you wanted to make plans for after work… Is everything okay?” you ask.

“Uhhh…not really, I don’t think I can go out tonight, sorry.” she replies.

“I understand, is there something wrong?” you ask, concern laced in your voice.

“Yeah I'm pretty stressed out, but you don’t need to worry.” she says, still racked with a nervousness that’s impossible to miss.

“We’re friends! You can tell me anything.”

After a short pause for consideration she utters, “I needed credits a couple weeks ago and I got a loan, but with how slow work has been I haven't been able to pay it back.”

“Oh no,” you interrupt, “If you needed credits you could’ve asked me. I understand how stressful debt can be.” you tell her.

“I wouldn’t want to be a burden on you, but between us, that’s not all… I borrowed the credits from a shark on one of the lower levels because nobody else would consider lending them to me,” she chokes out.

Tears well up in her eyes and her voice cracks. You’re heartbroken for her but you choose to stay silent to let her continue.

“Earlier today some of the shark's thugs told me that I better have the credits together by the end of the night or they’d be sending someone after me” she cries, no longer able to hold back her tears.

“Oh no, Sorrana! I’m so sorry. You must be terrified... Is there some way I can help? How many credits do you owe this guy anyway?” you ask, searching for a way to console her.

“It started at five thousand but each week he’s been raising the balance higher and higher. I hoped to pay it back that first week… but with the interest he’s charging it’s impossible. I only came in to work tonight because I have no way to get off the planet and his thugs know where I live… I was going to sleep here.” she sobs, burying her face in her hands.

Suddenly you hear a knock, the two of you shift your eyes to the source of the noise and hear your boss speaking through the door.

“Sorrana? Are you in there? I’ve got a customer that requested to see you. It’s someone new, a Mandalorian, shall I send him in?” she calls.

You and Sorrana exchange glances with the understanding that this Mandalorian was probably hired by the shark, who must have sent for him to take her in for a bounty. You make a split-second decision.

You make a motion for her to come closer and in a rushed whisper you say, “Take my keys and some credits. Get a taxi back to my place, okay? I’ll handle this. Hide in the closet and when we leave, go out the back.”

She opens her mouth to protest but you hold your hand up and motion for her to go. She nods and whispers, “Thank you so much” while hugging you tightly before another knock at the door echoes in the room.

“Be safe,” you urge her before she hides.

“She's not here right now,” you tell your boss as the door opens.

“Then what are you doing in Sorrana’s chamber?” she pries.

“Nothing, I just ran out of perfume and I know Sorana doesn’t mind sharing so I just came here to freshen up… You said there’s a customer here?” you say quickly.

“Oh, yes. A Mandalorian is here asking for Sorrana but I suppose I’ll have to tell him to return another time since she’s gone for the night,” she says, still slightly suspicious of you.

“Let me talk to him. Maybe I can be of service to him tonight, since he’s already made the trip here,” you suggest.

Your boss shrugs her shoulders and waves for you to follow her back into the main lobby of the brothel. You see the Mandalorian clad in shining armor under an earthen toned cape, hands placed on his hips as he waits for your boss to return with Sorrana.

“I'm sorry sir, I've been mistaken, Sorrana isn’t here tonight. However, this lovely lady has assured me that she can take care of whatever you may need,” she explains, gesturing to you.

He turns to you as he examines you through the black visor of his helmet.

“Do you know where I can find Sorrana?” he asks.

“We can discuss that and anything else you want back in my private chambers,” you reply, dancing a fine line between appearing like the flirt your boss expects you to be while still tempting the Mandalorian with the promise of information.

He pauses for a minute before following you to the back of the brothel to your room. You spend the short stroll to the back of the building with your mind racing, trying to think of ways to lead him on and buy as much time for Sorrana as you can. This man is on a mission, and just from his demeanor in the lobby you can tell he’s only here for that purpose– so simply trying to have sex with him probably won’t be enough to distract him. He'd just lose interest the moment he believes that there’s no information to be gained from talking with you and write you off as a sex worker angling for a payday.

The two of you enter your room and you instruct him to take a seat in the bed while you press the button and close the door. When you turn around he’s still standing in the center of the room.

“Where's Sorrana?” he asks, getting straight to the point just as you predicted.

“Take your cock out” trying to throw him off by getting straight to your point.

“Excuse me? No, I won't be doing that. I’m here because you told me we could speak in private,” he replies before adding, “If you have nothing to help me find her, I’ll be on my way.”

“I can give you the information you need, but first I want you to take your cock out. I’ve never seen a Mandalorian’s cock. Satisfy my curiosity and I’ll satisfy yours,” you tease.

There's a long silence before he utters, “It’s easier than a shootout I suppose,” before unzipping the fly of his flight suit, revealing his cock. You spend the next few moments taking in the sight, you didn’t expect him to actually do it; let alone so quickly.

“Satisfied?” he asks as he begins to put it away.

“Not yet. I want to see it hard,” you snap back.

He stops reaching for his fly and gazes up at you before replying with, “I want information”.

“Sorrana was here earlier but she left. There’s some information for you. If you want more, get it hard.” you say, trying to string him further along.

You can’t help but notice how broad he is, and truthfully, you had never seen a mandalorian’s cock before. It’s a sight to behold but you remind yourself of your goal to prevent yourself from getting distracted.

“Fine, but I'll want something more specific than that in exchange” he sighs, before reaching down to slowly stroke himself hard for you.

A silence fills the room for a few moments before you hear him let out a low, muffled, groan and see his cock begin to rise. You notice his dark visor fixated on you, taking in your form to help himself get hard quicker.

“Does staring at me like that help you out?” you tease.

“Yes… It does,” he says, almost moaning the words out.

“How adorable,” you play, before instructing him further, “Hands off.”

“I'm only half hard though?” he replies, letting his hands fall to his sides. “I thought you wanted to see it hard?” he says, seeming almost frustrated with the missing sensation.

“I do, but I want to watch it get hard and with your hand on it I won't get the whole view,” you explain to him.

“Humor me, I want to watch your cock rise and you said that looking at me is getting you there,” you continue.

“So? …You want me to get hard just looking at you?” he asks

“Exactly, hands behind your back now. I don’t want anything in the way, let me see that cock get hard with a clear view,” you say, taking a more dominant tone.

This will buy Sorrana more time as well, you assure yourself.

He follows your instructions and takes the stance you described, “Like this?” he asks, with his cock hanging in the air. You can sense a slight feeling of nervousness or maybe even embarrassment coming from the Mandalorian in his exposed state.

“Exactly, stay just like that for me,” you say as you stroll to the other side of the room before taking a seat on the edge of the bed and crossing your legs.

He stands there, in the center of the room with his cock out, and hands behind his hips with his erection growing as his visor scans you from top to bottom, and back up again. You lean back, placing your hands on the bed and notice the visor is fixated on your cleavage. You stand up in front of him, and slip off the rest of your clothes before sitting back on the edge of the bed, this time you spread your legs and expose your cunt to him. His cock twitches more with the new visual stimulation. As you begin gently touching your clit with one hand, and lightly tug your nipple with the other, his cock grows even harder in front of you. When he achieves a full erection a few drops of precum leak from the tip.

“There, are you satisfied yet? Where is Sorrana?” he groans.

“Alright, don't get so… worked up,” you reply in a sultry tone.

As you finish your sentence you notice the head of his cock is wet with precum, the dim light of the room reflects off of his glistening tip, as well as his metallic chestplate and helmet, illuminating his thick shaft.

“She was nervous when I saw her, that was maybe an hour ago?” you add, attempting to mislead his investigation by giving him a false timeline.

“Did she say where she was going?” he asks.

“Stroke it,” you tell him. “Stroke it for me and I’ll tell you more.”

“This is ridiculous,” he begins, reaching down for his fly once more before adding, “I’ll find her myself.”

As he bends to cover himself, you extend your bare leg forward, tapping the tip of his member with your foot, causing him to freeze.

“Just stroke it for me. Trust me, it’ll be so much easier than starting your search from scratch… And I’ve kept my word so far, haven't I? Besides, wouldn’t it feel nice to stroke yourself to my naked body?” you say with a smirk.

He silently grasps his cock once again, and begins stroking the length of it while holding back quiet moans beneath his helmet.

After a few minutes of obeying your latest set of commands, he asks “How long do you want me to continue this for?”

“Until I tell you to stop of course… Now stroke it a little slower for me. I don't want to miss anything,” you tell him.

At this point you begin to pick up that he’s building up toward climax, which is perfect for you because you need his focus on that instead of continuing his line of questioning. You can’t deny that this situation has you turned on, too. You admit to yourself that you’d like to feel him inside of you, but you shouldn’t. You have to stay focused on buying time, by keeping him horny and distracted.

He slows his pace just as you told him to, his cock now dripping precum onto his pants. This pace must be so frustrating for him, his hips begin pushing forward into his stroke as his hand meets his base.

You cut the silence, “Did I say you could fuck your fist?”

He stammers for a few seconds, realizing what he had been doing in his aroused state.

“I-I… No, you didn’t.”

“That’s right, I didn’t. So why did you start? Getting a little carried away? Follow my instructions to the word, or I won’t be sharing any other details with you. Understood?“ you snap at him.

“Yes, I understand,” he replies in a soft tone.

“What do you understand?” you ask him.

“I will follow your instructions to the word, and you’ll give me the details I need to find Sorrana,” he says with shaky breaths.

“Good, I’m so glad we’re finally on the same page, now stroke it faster for me,” you demand.

“Yes, of course,” he submits.

He begins pumping his fist up and down his hardened cock, his visor shifting from your eyes to your chest, and down to your legs, but never averting from you. You stand up from the bed and tell him to drop to his knees. He hesitates for a second, as if processing everything that’s happened so far and how he got in this situation, but drops down in compliance.

“I hear that you’re not allowed to remove that helmet, is that true?” you ask.

“It is. It’s part of my creed,” he answers, looking up at you still stroking himself at a quickened pace.

“That's a shame,” you tease, stepping toward him. You lean forward and press your chest against the mandalorian’s dark visor, wrapping a hand around the back of his head to press him further into you.

“I’ve noticed that you’ve taken a liking to my chest. Too bad this is the best you can hope for with your creed holding you back.”

You hear him almost growling from within his helmet.

“So close, yet so far away,” you continue teasing.

His growls turn to moans and his pace increases even faster, he’s desperate. You can only imagine the frustration he must be feeling at this moment. You pull away from him and turn around, pausing with your ass in front of him.

“Well we know how you feel about the view of my chest, what do you think of this?” you playfully ask.

“I…enjoy this, too.” he admits.

“Oh you can do better than that, what do you enjoy so much about it?” you tease.

“I…think you have a nice… backside,” he says, feeling a bit embarrassed.

“Oh yeah?” you chuckle, “Come on, what do you like about my backside?” trying to hold back your laughter at the formal term he used for your ass.

“You have a nice waist, and I like the curve of your hips,” he pants, stroking quicker than before.

“Is that all?” you reply.

“No… You have nice legs too. I think the shape of them is… attractive,” he answers.

His praises make you tingle with excitement. And the unique sense of power you wield over him in this moment is almost intoxicating. You can feel yourself getting wetter with each command he obeys. You’ve had submissive clients in the past from time to time who’d pay for a kinky night out with you, but this is something different. Not only because you promised information he urgently needs, but because he needs this; he’s starving for it.

“Hands off. Now,” you tell him, glancing over your shoulder. He’s panting, his chest rapidly rising and falling as his cock twitches for you.

“Such a good listener, I want you to get on the bed. Lay on your back with your arms above your head.”

He obeys your instructions once again. As he situates himself you tiptoe over to him and take his cock in your hand.

“Fuck it,” you order.

He pauses for a moment, as if trying to think of a snappy way to respond to you but his mind is blank. Then, he begins thrusting in the palm of your hand, moaning as you tease him by changing between a more firm, satisfying grip and a much lighter, looser, almost feather-light touch. His orgasm is building up as you relentlessly tease him and his mind becomes lost in a fog.

“How does that feel?” you ask, already sure of his answer.

“It’s frustrating, but at the same time…the building tension is unbelievable,” he admits.

“I could tell. Be a good boy and keep fucking my hand. Show me how much you enjoy it,” you say, becoming more amused as you pull out this Mandalorian’s submissive side.

He follows your orders and continues sliding his cock against your palm. It’s thick, and long, too. He’s so turned on by you, thrusting into your hand and panting beneath you.

“I’m going to cum,” he tells you.

“No, you’re not,” you say, letting go of his cock completely, “Not yet, at least,” you add.

“Why?” he almost cries out, “Why did you stop?” he asks, gripping the sheets in with fingers as his cock pulses on the brink of orgasm.

“Hold it. Control yourself if you want to hear any more information,” you hiss.

He calms himself, regaining control of his breathing and transitioning from desperate panting to drawing slow shaky breaths. You see his hands relax as he releases his grip on the sheets.

“Very good. Now, let’s see how you handle this.”

You then crawl over him, positioning yourself above his cock. You touch your cunt gathering some of your own wetness and spreading it over his length before touching the tip to your entrance.

“Please,” begs.

“Please, what?” you tease, rubbing his tip back and forth against your wet cunt.

“Please, sit on it,” he whimpers.

You lower yourself onto him, sensation is intense as you stretch to fit him inside. He moans in frustration as you sit still on his eager cock. He begins making short thrusts up into your cunt before remembering he must only do as you say and forcing himself to stop.

“Good boy,” you giggle, “I bet you want to cum so bad,” you whisper to him.

“Yes…I do,” he moans, no longer able to feign any sort of self-control.

“Then wait for instructions, if you feel yourself getting close to the edge you need to tell me. Understood?” you say, as you place your hands on his cool metallic chestplate and begin rocking back and forth.

“Understood... and then you’ll tell me what I need to know?... Right?” he pleads.

You give him silence, leaving his mind racing in as you look down at him and continue rocking your hips. You feel your orgasm building up as you’re hit with wave after wave of pleasure, each one more intense than the last. You lean forward on your hands, giving him a clear view of your chest as you pick up your pace. The feeling of being full is beyond belief. Your cunt feels like it’s melting around his cock and you come undone. You ride the high out until you sit still on him, catching your breath as he twitches inside you.

“I’m on the edge… Can I cum now?” he asks with anticipation in his voice.

“Not so fast... I’m not finished with you yet. Beg me for it.” you reply, with a devilish grin on your face.

“Seems a little… unfair,” he points out, still throbbing inside you, fighting to hold himself back as your release runs down his shaft onto his balls.

“Do you want my pity?” you ask, as you reach back and take his balls in your hand, gently fondling them to keep him right on the edge.

“So big and full, been a while, hasn’t it?” you say, adding. “Beg me to let you cum,” with a serious tone underlining your command.

“Is it that obvious?…I travel a lot for work. It’s not often I get the chance to be physical with someone,” he says between breaths, struggling to hold himself back as you play and tease his balls

“Sounds lonely,” you say, almost feeling bad for him at the moment.

“It can be,” he says, letting out a sigh.

“What can I call you? I know we’re well past introductions, but you must have a name,” you ask.

“Mando is fine,” he replies in a monotone voice, as you roll his balls in your fingers.

You feel his balls tighten and his cock throbbing even more and he breaks, “Please… May I please cum now?” he begins begging.

His serious demeanor fading away entirely as he turns to putty in your hands.

“How bad do you want it?” you question.

“I…need it...please…give me permission to cum,” he begs, even more desperate than before.

You raise your satisfied cunt off of him, and the vexed Mandalorian lets out what can only be described as a whimper in the absence of the feeling you gave him just moments ago. Then you crawl forward and hover your soaked cunt over the dark tinted visor of his helmet.

“So close, but so far away, it must be so aggravating for you, Mando. Stroke yourself to the sight of my cunt pressed against your helmet until you cum. Then thank me,” you command.

“Yes, of course, thank you,” he replies, thankful to hear that command but wishing he could have filled you with his release.

He begins reaching for his cock, just as you ordered, but you interrupt him when he wraps his hand around his cock to issue one final instruction.

“One more thing, Mando. I want to hear you say something, I want to hear you telling me that my cunt is your creed as you stroke yourself over the edge,” you declare in a cold tone, before lowering yourself against his visor.

He almost shivers with anticipation at the sight before replying with a whining, “Do I have to?”

“This is the way,” you say, mocking his creed.

“Okay, fine… Anything else?”

“No, you can go ahead, you’ve earned it,” you say, finally permitting him his climax.

Then he begins stroking himself, slow at first building up speed and rhythmically thrusting his hips into his hand as his grip meets the base, over and over again until you hear him moaning beneath you.

“Your cunt is my creed,” he whispers.

“Again, louder, or I’ll have you stop,” you threaten.

“Your cunt is my creed,” he quickly moans out, this time projecting his voice to avoid being denied by you any more.

“Now cum for me,” you order, as his release shoots out, covering his hand, cock, and lap in a glistening mess.

“Thank you,” he pants, repeating the phrase over and over again in total gratitude, still stroking his throbbing length as his high comes to a close and he catches his breath.

You climb off of him and step off the edge of the bed, quickly slipping into your clothes and darting for the door. Before you make your exit, you take one look back at the scene of what just happened. The sheets bunched, Mando’s cock out, the trail of his precum leading to the bed, his cum stained flight suit, and your release smeared across his visor.

As the door seals behind you, you hear the muffled sound of Mando calling out for you after the realization clicks.

“Wait a minute, you still haven’t told me where Sorrana is!” he shouts.

You don’t respond, you’re already long gone, having quickly made your way out of the back of the brothel while he puts himself back together. You sneak into a taxi, leaving him behind.

You’re such a good friend to have.

End note: Everyone say ✨thank you David✨

Follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post a new fic!

Part two

Tag list for David lol: @wannab-urs @toxicanonymity @dark-scape @kirsteng42 @kewwrites @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @theywhowriteandknowthings @jksprincess10 @dins-riduur-anthe @tightjeansjavi @pr0ximamidnight @diversemediums @planet-marz1 @cool-iguana @yamomma19 @basicoccult @pedroshotwifey @pedritosdarling @readingfan @yourlocalmerchgirl @gingaaaaa @xxhypersomnia @pascalpvnk @angel-with-a-heart @love-the-abyss @greensabereyesforcevictim @bluestar22x @beefrobeefcal @josephquinnswhore

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin one shot #din djarin smut #the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #starwarsficnetwork #star wars #mando x reader #mando x you #din djarin x you #mando smut #pedrostories

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starjedi86 · 2 months

Text

Make a wish

Summary: You and Din enjoy a peaceful night wrapped around each other’s arms.

Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader

Warnings: None

Word Count: 882

Authors Note: Hi everyone! This fic was inspired by a picture I saw on Pinterest the other day. I hope you enjoy it!!

As the night progressed, Din lay in the grass outside his small cabin, his helmet resting beside him and his gaze fixed upon the twinkling stars scattered across the night sky.

Finally, he found a moment of peace and relaxation. Having to spent most of his life as a bounty hunter, always on the move and alert to any threat that might arise, he cherished this much-needed break. And now, in this quiet corner on the outskirts of Nevarro, he could finally breath freely, escaping the constant danger he was always faced.

However, despite the risks and distressing circumstances he had faced as a bounty hunter, he knew he would never regret his past. It was through that life that he had crossed paths with you, the person who had brought light and love into his life.

It had been a few years since you started dating, he couldn’t even remember how his life was before he met you. He was sure it was dark and cold, as he wasn’t used to having someone by his side. It was only when Grogu came into his life that he started to realize how much you meant to him, and that’s when he found the courage to ask you out.

Lost in his thoughts, Din didn’t realize that you were walking towards him until you settled beside him, your comforting presence in the stillness of the night. As he turned to you, a soft smile broke across his lips at the sight of your familiar and beautiful face.

Reaching out, he pulled you into his embrace, wrapping his arms around you and drawing you closer to him. Feeling the warmth of your body against his, he savored the moment, grateful for your calming and comforting company.

Leaning into him, you rested your head against his chest, listening to the soft and steady rhythm of his heartbeat as you looked at the stars. Taking his hand in yours, you gently intertwined your fingers with his, feeling safe in his presence.

After a moment, Din finally broke the silence, raising his hand to stroke your hair. “Is the kid finally sleeping” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm against your head.

You nodded softly, a small smile forming on your lips as you thought about that small little cutie that managed to steal your heart. “Yes, it took some time, but he’s out like a light.”

Din exhaled a quiet sigh of relief as his expression softened, a playful hint of amusement appearing in his eyes. “Seems like he has started to enjoy your company more lately,” he remarked, a gentle teasing tone in his voice.

You shook your head and chuckled softly, a tender smile gracing your face. “I don’t think he prefers me over you,” you said, reaching out to gently touch his cheek. “You’re his father, Din. You’ll always be his favorite person in the entire galaxy.”

Din’s heart swelled with affection at your words, reassured by your understanding and support. As he gazed at you, an intense sense of gratitude washed over him, knowing that he was blessed to have you by his side.

"Thank you, cyar'ika,” Din said softly, his voice filled with affection as he gazed into your eyes. "For everything you’ve done for me, for us."

You smiled back at him, warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "You don't have to thank me, Din," you replied. "I'm just happy to be here with you."

In response, Din gently squeezed your hand three times, a silent declaration of his love for you—a gesture you both had used since the begging of your relationship. It was a way of saying “I love you” without needing to say it out loud, a silent promise that you’ll always be there for each other, no matter the circumstances life brought.

You returned the gesture, matching his action with three gentle squeezes of your own, your heart overflowing with love and affection for the man you were lucky to call yours.

As you both gazed up at the stars, a shooting star streaked across the sky, causing you to gasp in excitement. “Look!” you exclaimed, shaking his arm with your hand. “Make a wish!”

You closed your eyes eagerly, a smile tugging at your lips as you made your silent wish. Din watched you with love, a small chuckle escaping his lips at your enthusiasm.

When you opened your eyes again, you met Din’s gaze, a curious expression on your face. “What?” you asked, raising your eyebrows in confusion.

Din's smile widened as he shook his head, his eyes shining with affection. "Wanna know something? I don't need to make any more wishes," he said softly. "Because everything I ever wished for is right here with me." He gestures towards you and the child, his heart overflowing with love for the two of you.

Touched by Din’s words, you leaned over and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, a silent expression of the love and affection you had for him. You couldn’t be happier, the love you had for this man grew stronger day by day, and you knew that he felt the same way. After all, you were lucky to have him by your side.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin one shot #mando #mando x reader #pedro pascal x reader #mando fic #the mandalorian x reader #din #star wars #star wars the mandalorian

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thefrogdalorian · 5 months

Text

din djarin + dramatic entrances

#he's the most dramatic man in the galaxy #he looks good and he KNOWS IT #imagine being in a cantina and that beautiful gorgeous tin can walks in i'd be up like a SHOT crawl over to him throw myself at his feet #din djarin brainrot #din djarin #din djarin edit #the mandalorian #mando #mando edit #pedro pascal #my edits #*#din #NEED HIM BIBLICALLY #grogu #like look at the little guy with him in the bottom one ahhhhhh #i miss them #din edits

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beyondspaceandstars · 1 year

Note

Hey babes, can you do a Mando x reader where the reader is a bounty hunter and leaves the ship to complete a mission and is only supposed to be gone a few hours but they’re gone all night and Din starts to panic and the next morning they show up slightly injured sand Din completely loses it and he was so scared then feels guilty? (fluff and ANGST) (sorry this is long!)

Safe With You

Relationship: Din Djarin x Reader

Warnings: fluff and angst, as ordered

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: Thank you so so much for requesting!! I haven’t written for the Mandalorian in so long, it feels so great to do again. And the new season was wonderful, I loved the ending so much, so thank you for requesting this fluffy, angsty thing! (P.S. I am very aware of the fact that we just learned the mandalorian’s first name is not actually his first name however, I am a woman who is set in her ways and this was written before finding that fact out. He’s "Din" throughout this, I’m sorry.)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

"You’re sure you’re going to be okay?" He asked you for what felt like the millionth time. You had to force yourself to stop rolling your eyes as you finished packing your supplies.

When you came back to the make-shift base you two had set up and told Din you picked up an easy job while in town, you had expected him to maybe ask a couple of questions, just so he knew where you’d be. What you hadn’t expected was for him to practically pester you. Not to mention, he’d already offered to come with about a dozen times now.

"Honey, I was working alone way before I ever met you," you replied, "I think I’m going to be able to handle myself."

He sighed. "I know, but this planet… Can you at least tell me what the job is?"

You shook your head. "I was paid extra for my discretion and the last thing we need is to lose a couple of credits, right? Besides, there’s worse in the galaxy, I’m sure of it. It’ll be fine, I’ll be back before you know it."

Din peaked up at the dimming sky. It would be getting dark soon.

"This still doesn’t feel right to me. Can you be back before nightfall?" He asked.

You shrugged. "Maybe." You felt his hard stare from behind his helmet. You sighed. "I’ll try."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

****

When you two make promises, you kept them. There were no if ands or buts about it. You both had demanding, dangerous lives, and promises were a foundation you thrived on. It kept you whole, loyal.

So, when night fell on the planet and the only thing he could make out was the fluttering nocturnal bugs, Din grew worried beyond belief. The night was ticking on and he was still alone. You had promised. He shouldn’t have this worry in him right now. He should be holding you tight, hearing you give a recap of the job while you two lay snuggled up, slowly drifting off to sleep.

He should be listening to your dream about what you’d want to use the credits for. Realistically, you always put it toward food and medical aid, but he knew you liked to save just some to the side for when you two found little markets throughout your journeys. You liked buying textiles for crafts in your downtime, jewelry from the local women…

Din was losing his mind. His head spun with thoughts and worries about you. Unable to do much else, he grabbed some supplies and made his way back into town, hoping on the off chance he’d be able to find whoever offered you the job. He decided he’d do whatever was necessary to get them to tell him where you were. He didn’t care what it would take or who he’d have to hurt.

This was you. His other half. His adorable, fearless, bright, charming, funny, caring significant other. And now you were gone…

Well, everyone was gone. In the pitch black of the night, just the faint hint of stars now guiding his path, Din found the town to be completely closed up for the night. It was a stark contrast to the hustle and bustle of the afternoon. It was like everyone just up and left but he knew better than that.

Most of the dusty buildings were used as shops, he remembered, but the flickering glow from some windows on the taller buildings points him toward some of the residents.

Din didn’t hesitate to knock on some doors. It would’ve been more powerful had it ended up working. He pounded on them. Kicked. Yelled. But all of his fits fell on deaf ears. He had half the mind to start breaking in through windows and backdoors but he had to reel himself back. It would do neither of you any good if he was restrained.

When it was growing more and more evident no one in the town would cater to him, Din forced himself to give up. He had to put some faith in you, he knew that. You were incredibly skilled—almost as much as him—and if you weren’t worried about something, he should be trusting of that.

And yet, he couldn’t help himself. Worry and defeat overcame him as he made his way back to where you two were staying. Din decided he’d make himself comfortable and then just wait for you to come back. Surely, that wouldn’t be so bad. He could keep himself awake. You’d probably be back any minute, he tried telling himself. It’d be fine. It’d be easy, right?

Nope. Wrong. So very wrong. Din only realized how foolish he had been when he felt a hint of warmth on his body and light trying to break through the visor of his helmet. Slowly, he blinked his eyes open, forcing himself awake.

It was morning. The next day. It was the morning of the next day…and he was alone. The realization hit Din like a ton of bricks. He shot up from his slouched position, and a new kind of worry came over him. Not only had he fallen asleep, but he had also done so without you, and it still didn’t appear like you were here. Worry shifted into guilty. He thought was going to be sick—

"Over here, darling." Your voice rang out in a scratchy tone from behind Din. He whipped his head around and your slumped, exhausted form came into focus. You were sitting in just your undergarments next to the nearby, splashing water over what appeared to be fresh wounds. A stack of wraps and aid supplies sat next to you. Most of your clothes were tossed to the side and turning brown from dried blood. Din felt every part of him seize up.

"Cyra’ika, what…" Din’s throat felt like it was on fire as he slowly stepped toward you. He knew he should’ve rushed to your side, gave you all the attention and care you absolutely needed, but he had never seen you in this state before. "What happened?"

You shrugged. "Mission was a little bit rougher than anticipate but don’t worry, I finished it and we were paid."

You had the nerve to flash a smirk at him. Din thought he was about to lose it all over again, maybe even worse, as he had the previous night.

"I’m not worried about the funds," he snapped. His sudden and typically unusual harsh tone made you flinch but he didn’t seem to care. "You’re… You’re bleeding. You’re pale. Oh my… You need— We need—,"

"To calm down," you snapped back. "We need to calm down. Honey, I’m okay, really. It was just a bit more difficult than the employer had made it out to be. That was probably my fault, I guess I didn’t ask the right questions, but it’s alright. Brought them in warm and everything. It just took slightly longer than anticipated."

Din groaned. "You said you’d be back by nightfall."

"Well, that didn’t happen."

"I’m very aware that that didn’t happen."

You rolled your eyes and turned your attention back onto your injuries. You patted one of the wounds dry and began trying to wrap it gently but firmly. Every movement made you flinch. "

"I don’t understand what the big fuss is about," you muttered. "I still returned and the mission was complete. What’s the big deal?"

"The big deal is I thought you were dead," Din replied harshly.

"Well, I’m not!" You yelled back, your own fuse nearly at its end. But losing your temper wasn’t the smartest idea you realized as a sharp pain tore through your side. You let out a frightened yelp. You had expected bruises but the one that covered more torso was a ridiculous one.

"Cyra’ika…" Din sighed as he rushed to kneel at your side. He inspected the bruised skin you were gripping. "You need to rest. Let me bandage the rest."

"No, I’m fine," you gritted. Your anger still simmered within you despite Din’s gentle words.

"No, you’re not," he replied. "And… And I’m sorry for being upset with you instead of helping." He pulled at the wrap you were holding in your hands. You forced yourself to give in. You leaned into his touch as he finished drying your wounds and began bandaging them.

"I tried coming back by nightfall," you murmured. "I really did but it was harder than I intended."

"I don’t doubt that for a second," Din said. "You promised and we try to keep our promises but I was… I was so scared." His helmet-distorted voice cracked slightly and that was more painful than any wound some bounty could ever inflict upon you.

"I was scared, too," you admitted, "but I didn’t want to make a big deal of it because I’m finally back here, safe, with you. That’s all that matters." Slowly, you raised a bruised hand to his helmet. You wanted nothing more than to cup his face and promise him you were okay but you knew this was as close as you were going to get.

"You’re right," he agreed, "and that’s what I’m trying to remind myself as I wrap your injuries."

You shook your head. "They’re not that bad, really. I’m sure you’ve had worse."

"This isn’t about me."

"Okay," you sighed. "But the next time you come back all bruised and beaten, I get to reprimand you."

Din hummed. "Maybe we should just start taking jobs together."

"Yeah?" You chuckled. "Wanna be my partner in crime?"

"I think I just want to be wherever you are."

"Good because I want you there with me," you said with a wide smile creeping up on your face. You knew if you saw Din’s face he would be blushing. "Hey, do you think one day we’ll be able to leave all this behind and just live a…normal life together?"

Din’s focus stayed on the bandages. "Is that what you would want?"

"Of course," you replied with no hesitation.

"Then, yes." Din nodded. "I’ll make sure of it."

A good kind of warmth spread throughout your face and down your body. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Din responded. "Always."

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papurgaatika · 3 months

Text

All The Quiet Nights You Bear

Pairing: din djarin x gn!reader

summary: Din Djarin is not warm, he does not drink hot drinks, or sit in steamy baths. But for you, he can try.

Tags: angst, din djarin my sweet boy,, bathing, yes this is just giving Din a bath, fluff, hurt/comfort but I'm hurting all of you and comforting him, mention on Din's mother, angst with a happy ending, tooth-rotting amounts of intimacy, non-sexual nudity, no use of Y/N and no description of reader

word count: 1.8k

A/N: Before I start! This is my first official fic that wasn’t a bullet-pointed list I keep in a locked notes app on my phone so I am begging y’all to please be gentle with me. I want to give a MASSIVE shout-out to @joelsdagger for not letting me off the hook and making sure I stick with this, literally would not have been able to do this without her. So the fic: basically I got in the shower one day and thought about Din just being soft, and thus this was born! Fair warning that I Will by Mitski was in heavy rotation while writing this. I literally love him like a real person and he makes my heart hurt and I want to take care of him, so I got self-indulgent. I also don't really know the star wars universe so this is me making shit up as I go!! Anyway!! Peace and love from me I hope y'all love it as much as I do!!

Din Djarin is cold. He slept under the thin sheet he kept in the bunk of the crest for years, his beskar was always cool to the touch, he took cold showers. The idea of warmth never put him at ease either. It seeps into him, clinging to his body under his armor, reminding him of his blaster right after setting it off. He wants to crawl out of his skin anytime he finds himself on a dry planet, sweltering under its suns.

Din wasn’t used to just how quiet life ended up being on nevarro. Grogu was in school most days, there was relative peace in the area, yet he still found himself clinging to his old self. Never relaxed, always on edge like he was waiting for a fight to break out. You find yourself watching him more closely, recognizing his routines, wanting to put his mind at ease. But how could you? He still took cold showers, quick and precise about it. Never lingering to enjoy the feel of water on his skin, never stopping to relax.

He thinks that the last time he truly took a hot shower was before he took the creed, when his parents were still alive, when he was only Din Djarin the boy, not a mandalorian. It hurt him to think about it, to picture his mother. Her face had grown fuzzy in his memory after decades without her, but he could feel her. The way her eyes were always soft and warm, her voice like the gentle rain that lulled him to sleep when he was young. He missed her. He missed the way she used to hum while warming the water for his bath, the smile on her lips when he would run up to her. He had tried once, to take a warm shower, to try and remember the oils his mother used to use when he was young. It had ended in him slouched over in the bathroom, the steam almost too much, silent sobs tearing through him. So no, din djarin did not take hot showers.

But you? You were warm. So warm he felt like he was melting every time he even thought about you. The way you kissed his fingers, the gentleness you have while holding Grogu, the look in your eyes when you lay with him. You were all warm showers. The steam that tumbles after you when you open the door lingers around you like it's trying to surround you, to crowd your senses, to be all over you. Everything that din wants to do to you. He would chase after you throughout the whole galaxy if it meant you would say his name, soft and sweet like he was being saved just by hearing it.

You were the only warmth that he craved. The only heat he allowed himself to enjoy, to truly want. And so when you call him over to the bathroom, voice soft and gentle, he comes. He will always come to you. You smile when he enters the room and takes in the scene in front of him. The bathtub full of water, steam rising from above it. You, with an expression warm enough to rival the water, eyes locked on his. “Come here,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours. He was uncharacteristically slow to move towards you, but you stood there, hand still waiting for his. Your hand took his, your thumb tracing over the side of his fingers so soft he could barely feel it. “Din-” you whisper looking up at him, “let me take care of you, sweet boy”

That was your boy. The one you were working so hard to melt, to make him soft around the corners. It was rare that he wore the armor anymore, his days usually spent at home with you and Grogu, the need to hide no longer necessary. You bring his knuckles to your lips as a silent promise to be gentle, to not let him break. “Is that okay?” you ask, hand still holding his.

He nods, not trusting his voice nearly as much as he trusts you, and you smile. God that smile. Din Djarin would live in that smile if he could. The only smile he thinks will be in his mind like his mother’s. You reach for the hem of his shirt, not pulling at it yet, just letting your fingers rest on top of it waiting for any indication that he was okay with it coming off. You hear a small hum leave his throat and you help him take it off. This was a sight you would never tire of seeing. Tan and broad, his tummy soft under your fingers likely because of your cooking, and god was he beautiful. “Always so pretty to look at” Your fingers trail on his chest. You place a kiss over his heart, a gentle reminder that it was yours and that yours was his.

You watched as he removed the rest of his clothes, admiring the vision that he was. Yours, yours, yours. You nudged him to the bath, waiting for him to get in. He didn't think he could do it. It was hot. It was like the ones his mother gave him. It was not like him. He was not soft or warm, he was cool and hardened from years of fighting. But it was like you. It was for you. And for you, he could do anything. He let out a soft hiss as his feet hit the water, the temperature still taking him by shock slightly.

“It's okay, just relax. I've got you” Your words pulled him from his thoughts, looking over at you with a tilt of his head.

“You’re not getting in cyar’ika?” he sounds disappointed, almost like he wants to beg you to hold him, but you shake your head at him.

“This isn’t for me din, just want to help you relax okay?” You move to sit on the stool you put behind the bath, grabbing the basket full of oils and shampoos and letting them fill both of your senses. You use a cup to grab some of the water and pour it over his curls, the strands dampening and sticking to the back of his neck. You take the time to press a soft kiss to his head, nose and lips wet with the water. You pop open the bottle of shampoo you had fought to find. Din rarely spoke of his life before the creed, but you knew enough to set out on a search for it. The aroma of the shampoo grew easier to smell when you poured it into your palm, sandalwood and something almost citrusy being massaged into his hair. Your nails rake over his scalp and press into his forehead where you know he gets headaches. A soft groan leaves his lips, his eyes fluttering shut.

“Is this alright my moon?” you whisper, not wanting to disturb the peace that had settled into the room along the steam of the bath.

“It’s perfect my sun,” he replies, words uncharacteristically soft for him. A small smile finds its way to your lips as you continue to massage the soap into his hair before rinsing it out, taking care to not get it in his eyes.

“Scooch up, I'm gonna do your shoulders” You dip your toes into the water, legs resting against his thighs before grabbing the soap and a washcloth.

“So pretty for me Din,” a kiss on his neck “always so perfect,” another one above his collarbone “don't know what I would do without you.” a third kiss on his shoulder, right above a scar he had gotten over the course of his career. You let the soap run down his back gently, watching the bubbles drip down and hit the water. You rub small circles into his skin with the washcloth, running water over it to rinse off the soap, before moving to his arms. Even before you had seen his arms, you had known that he was strong. Hunting bounties all day, fighting, piloting the crest, had led to his arms and hands being known for violence, for having blood on them. But not to you. To you they were the ones that draped across your body at night, the ones used to hold your son while you were out in the markets, they were warm and strong and perfect. They shielded you and protected you, and while you didn’t think you could do the same for him, you were willing to try. Your fingers trace patterns over the scars and freckles he has, goosebumps forming on his skin. He is sitting in front of you in the bath, the water so hot at one point, that his skin is a little red. Your hands are in his hair taking time to wash it, to truly wash it. Your nails rake against his scalp as the shampoo lathers, before you rinse it out taking care to not get it in his eyes. You massage the conditioner into the ends of his hair, before leaning down to press kisses onto his shoulder.

“Thank you for letting me do this for you my moon” you murmur resting your chin on his shoulder. He lets out a soft hum that you can feel as you’re pressed up behind him. “Thank you for doing it, my sun.” you can feel the water growing colder than you would like under the two of you, so you make quick work of rinsing the rest of the conditioner out of his hair, lightly curling a few strands around your finger as you finish. Neither of you wants to make a move to get out, the warmth of each other making the water’s temperature almost obsolete, but a sneeze betrays him getting a giggle from between your lips, and din swears it’s the sweetest sound he will ever hear. He can feel your lips curled into a smile as you let your forehead fall to rest on the back of his shoulder and shake your head.

“Time to get out I think,” you say, reaching over to grab a towel for yourself before stepping out and pulling it around yourself. Din stands next, taking his towel from your hands and wrapping it around his waist before pulling you into him, a surprised “oof” leaving your mouth as he holds you against his chest. You blink up at him, eyes twinkling at just the sight of him and raise an eyebrow waiting for him to speak.

“Thank you cyar’ika,” his words tremble slightly as he takes a deep breath “Really, this was amazing.. Thank you.” He presses a chaste kiss to the top of your head before letting one of his hands capture yours, interlocking your fingers together. “Anything for you my love” you whisper back before nodding softly to your shared bedroom “Come now, let’s just rest for the day.”

#din djarin #mando #the mandalorian #din dijarin x reader #the mandaloria/reader #star wars fanfiction #the mandolarian fanfiction #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian one shot #din djarin x y/n #the mandalorian x y/n #papaya writes <3

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greenandsorrow · 17 days

Note

Could you write an Xreader- Pedro Pascal smut with age gap and daddy kink

Also riding and praise kink

disclaimer-> this was requested by an irl friend, so I just had to write it! (about requesting; click here)

this is just porn, no plot at all. pure filth, unrealistic for our favourite cinnamon roll but idgaf. i drew my inspo from this photoshoot!

You are new to this... being a photographer in Hollywood. So the excitement of meeting your celebrity crashes is still very much alive in you.

Today you have a scheduled photo shoot with the José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal. Obviously, there's a team accompanying you, but everything seems to disappear when you lay eyes on the masterpiece of a man that Pedro is.

Pedro's eyes widen slightly when you approach him to introduce yourself. He chuckles awkwardly, shaking your hand heartily.

Before you have time to wipe away the idiotic smile that has formed on your face, you are holding your camera and guiding his poses.

It quickly becomes clear that Pedro is fun to work with. He cracks the best of dad jokes and the way he looks at the lens has you soaking your panties.

The shoot is taking place in a motel somewhere outside of LA. During lunchbreak everyone parts ways, leaving you alone with your camera and naughty thoughts. Pedro is inside one of the motel rooms, getting changed into the next outfit the team has picked for him.

Now that the ice has been broken after working with him for hours, you feel confident enough to knock on the door of the room he currently occupies.

The sun outside is bright and when he lets you in, its rays make his frame glisten slightly. He's still shirtless. The air is heavy with desire, mixed with soft notes of lavender from the room's fragrance.

Inside his mind there's a dilemma. He's twice your age, but all he can think about is your perfect curves, your cleavage, your sweet smile.

Pedro bites his lip as he imagines you against him.

"Um... could I help you with anything kid?"

"Don't call me that."

"Fuck~"

The grown man in front of you has become tomato red, hands instinctually covering his crotch.

"You don't have to hide that..."

Your eyes are seductive and your tone makes Pedro swallow audibly.

"Y- you don't understand sweetie. I haven't.... haven't... in a while."

"All the more reason to do it now~"

That would be fucking incredible. His hardened cock twitches in anticipation at the thought of being buried deep inside you...

A moment of staring at each other with intent passes.

Pedro locks the door and you close the curtains.

The room starts to feel even hotter now that your shared desire has been revealed. Pedro's hands start roaming across his body, tracing patterns over his abdomen before cupping his balls through the fabric of his underwear. He groans softly, a thick bead of precum forms at the tip of his throbbing cock, yearning for your wet heat.

You grin. The sweet and shy man is gone. Pedro is pure dominance and power now.

"Be a good girl and take off your clothes for your da- for me."

"What did you say?" you teasingly ask while playing with your breasts.

He mumbles something under his breath.

"You're gonna take your clothes off now, for your daddy."

"Now we're talking."

And so you give him a little strip show. You begin by taking off your shirt, tantalisingly slow...

Pedro cannot wait any longer when your breasts bounce after taking off your bra.

The actor leans in, capturing your lips with his own, shoving his tongue deep into your mouth as he moans against you. Your taste sends shivers of pleasure through him, tongues dance and tangle while his hands roam further down your body, cupping your plump ass cheeks roughly before delivering a sharp slap that leaves a hot sting followed by pleasure.

He is quick to undress himself while you do the same with your remaining clothing.

As the intensity builds between you, Pedro whispers filthy things in your ear... promises of what he'll do to you once you're fully impaled on his thick shaft, describing in graphic detail how good it will feel.

You can't help but giggle playfully... In a swift motion, you put a hand on his wide chest, pushing him back until his calves hit the couch.

Pedro sits with his legs spread. His fat cock (slightly bent) is rigid against his lower stomach.

He's a sight to behold, that's for sure.

"...agh~ it's been a long day mi vida..."

Pedro can't help but groan when his cock twitches impatiently.

He pulls you close and helps you straddle him. His heart melts as you do so, his erection pressing against your wetness.

"Oh that's it darling. Take care of daddy... C'mon ride me baby, don't be shy~"

You are too turned on, too lost in the delicious haze of lust and desire.

You slowly sink down on Pedro's surprisingly girthy member.

To your delight he lets out a strangled moan, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He feels every inch of you surrounding him.

"Fuck yeah, that's it princess. Ride your daddy hard and fast."

He's breathless, hungry... but still patient enough to let you adjust to his size... before thrusting up to fill you completely with his cock.

You moan loudly against his chest.

(On top of everything, why does he have to smell so frickin' good?!)

You haven't even started moving on top of him and Pedro reaches between your legs, rubbing your clit with his thumb.

"Such a pretty baby girl. Let daddy feel that sweet pussy of yours squeeze him tight."

Pedro's eyes roll back in ecstasy as he feels the warmth of your tight pussy enveloping his cock, as you finally begin to move up and down. Each inch you take feels like heaven, making him bite his lip to stifle moans and profanities.

His hips jerk upward involuntarily, trying to drive deeper into your welcoming heat.

"Ah... oh... it's too good... your pussy~"

"You play with my clit so nicely handsome..."

Your voice doesn't sound like your own in your ears. But the shocked and flustered expression on Pedro's features boosts your confidence.

You pick up the pace, slamming down on him harder and faster, chasing maximum pleasure.

He growls, his cock throbbing inside of you. Your shared moans and gasps fill the room as you both give in to passion.

"Fuck yes, babydoll... you're so damn tight!"

The actor's hands find their way to your hips, holding on tightly as he begins to move in unison with you.

Heavy breathing and the slapping sounds of your flesh meeting as you lose yourselves in the ecstasy is what could be heard if someone was to go knock on the door.

Pedro hasn't had sex in a while so he soon gets overwhelmed. He can feel himself being consumed by the pleasure your tight walls provide him with. As he nears his peak, he slows you down by grabbing your hips, prolonging his time with you.

He tries not to panic by the fact he almost came. Pedro starts nibbling on your neck and earlobe... regaining some sense of control.

"Shhh... baby doll," he whispers breathily into your ear. "You feel so fucking amazing around me... J- just slow down for a moment~"

You feel Pedro's grip on you tighten slightly as he fights against the impending orgasm that threatens to consume him. You indeed make your pace lighter, more shallow and slightly slower.

Even in this new pace, Pedro's orgasm is building rapidly within him despite his attempts to hold back. He knows that he needs to make this last. He wants you to remember him, to leave a long lasting impression on you.

Your moans and whines don't help, making him all too excited. He doesn't continue pounding into you, determined that if he does so, he'll cum immediately.

"C'mon princess... You gotta cum for daddy~"

The way you move your body, riding him slowly and sensually, has you seeing stars. You have never experienced anything like that.

You giggle playfully... the laboured expression on his face is both sexy and adorable.

"P- Pedro... I~"

Feeling your body tensing up, Pedro knows you're close. He leans in and kisses you deeply as he starts to meet your movements with his own, hips thrusting eagerly against your own.

You moan when you feel his cock hit that spongy spot deep inside you. You shiver and grasp at his arms for support, fingernails pressing into his skin.

So, with a final growl of effort, he pushes through the waves of ecstasy, filling you up completely as he cries out his release. His cock throbs violently inside you, spurting load after load of hot cum deep into your hungry pussy. The feeling is indescribable... It's raw and primal.

You're trembling more now, your skin is covered in a thin layer of sweat but you still haven't cummed. A little more stimulation is all you need. He did come but doesn't plan on giving up until you do too.

"Oh, baby doll!"

Pedro feels a pang of emotion in his chest. The man's heart races, concern etching lines onto his handsome face. What if he can't make you orgasm?

Noticing his apprehension you cease riding him for a moment.

"Need to catch your breath?"

He simply nods.

His cock is already starting to harden again as he looks at your flushed face.

"Oh yes, baby girl. Daddy just wanted to recover real quick."

Running his fingers through your hair, he smirks mischievously.

"I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk straight tomorrow, my little whore. Do you understand?"

This sudden burst of dominance has you reeling. His goal is simple. He cummed. Now it's your turn.

Pedro starts thrusting into you hard and fast, his cock hitting all the right spots. He leans down to bite your neck, leaving a mark as he claims you as his own.

"You're mine, baby girl. All mine."

Your moans echo in the space you two occupy.

Feeling your body respond to his roughness, Pedro picks up the pace even more. His hips slam against yours time and time again.

"Tell daddy how much you love it when he fucks his little slut!"

You start writhing, tremblingly, as your own climax consumes you. You stutter his name. Only his name.

"Pedro... I- I love... I love it!!!"

Feeling your tight pussy squeezing him as you cum, Pedro knows you lost control as well. He slams into you, this time erupting without shame or guilt.

"Fuck yes baby! That's it! Take all of daddy's cum!"

"Oh... Oh God~"

"Did my little slut enjoy that? Did she cum hard for her daddy?"

Pedro kisses you passionately, his hands roaming your body. He holds you close as he slowly pulls out of you, his thick cock still pulsing with each jet of cum that shoots out and lands on your flat stomach and legs.

"Shhh... baby doll," he soothes softly, kissing your temple before nuzzling into your neck with newfound gentleness.

"I didn't mean to be so rough you. It's just that you're so fucking perfect... It overwhelmed me for a moment."

this hasn't been proof read, so some errors are to be expected. hopefully they don't take away from the experience.

as a struggling young adult tips are highly appreciated 🩷

my masterlist

49 notes · View notes

inklore · 2 years

Text

safe haven

premise: you’re his special girl, he doesn’t like hurting you. but he will if he needs to.

pairing: cultleader!din djarin x (f)reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: eighteen+ content, spanking, unprotected p in v, ownership kink, all of the messed up things that come with cults, so murder mention and violence, gaslighting and possibly manipulation, dubcon when it comes to the spanking and staying in the cult, threats, tiny bit of foreplay, pain kink.

etc: soo uhh i actually love this idea and wouldn’t mind revisiting it, so if anyone would be remotely interested in that let me knowww.

kinktober 07 | kinktober masterlist

There��s disappointment in his eyes, mingled in with the look of betrayal. Like you’ve taken away something precious to him, something that belongs to him, something he owns.

His usual quiet and hard exterior—what makes him a good leader—washed away with the furrow of his brows as he holds your cheeks in his hands, inclining your neck so you have no other place to look but at him.

“Why would you run?” He inquires, his tone holding no trace of the feelings in his gaze that are like missiles to your insides. “I thought you were my special girl,” the way his eyes move down to your lips, the pad of his thumb tracing the scheme of your bottom lip, making your breath come out shaky. Your already accelerated heartbeat—from being dragged back, from fighting a hold that is too tight to run from—hammers faster in your chest, “have you lost your way?”

“N-no, I–”

“The girl I know would never leave us behind, abandoned her post, her oath. Me.” Din’s eyes hold yours, not soft, not questioning. It’s a challenge. A dare to continue to disobey. To answer accordingly or you’ll end up like so many others have before; lifeless, buried behind the compound, dirt filling up the hole in their chests.

“No,” your head shakes, tears burning your eyes as fear sits like acid in your belly. “I’d never do that–I wouldn’t–I’m sor–”

“Why do it then? Why leave your home behind? You belong here, nowhere else. This place, this way, is all you need. All you should want. You’re running away from the haven we’ve all spent so much time building.”

The word haven sits heavy in the air, in your mind, in the acid in your insides. The word makes you shake at the memories of your life before this place, of this so-called haven draining you of that life and turning it into something dangerous, deadly; a devotee to a man as shiny and hard as silver—as alluring as a metal prize that you cheat to win.

You know the truth won’t set you free.

The truth only gets you killed, only gets you punished by the hands of the man staring down at you. Punishments that will leave you marked or used as soil.

And the truth to why you ran, the need to escape a nightmare you no longer wanted to be a part of. To free yourself from the hold of Din Djarin, was a freedom worth risking your life over.

You thought.

The blood along your hands and knees from running and falling through the woods proof. A testament to how badly you wished to leave this place. To not look up into those dark eyes and see the evil in them and still shudder and preen when he touched you. When he favored you. When you were the only one who occupied his bed when so many others before had tried to get the spot.

You were his special girl.

You were a blind devotee, enforcer, the perfect sheep herder for a wolf.

It was a plague you needed to shake. To save yourself from.

You were not a bad person, and yet you’ve seen so many bad things. Had held Din’s hand as he did those bad things.

Escaping was your only option.

But now as you look up at him, the tears come and streak your cheeks and his palms. As your chest shakes and he pulls you to him rubbing your back, sweet coos of “it’s alright, I forgive you. we all get confused, you know the way.”

Sweet words laced with barbed wire that only make you shake more. Sob into his chest with how sorry you are.

Once your cries have settled down, once you can breathe without shaking, Din pulls you back by your shoulders, wiping away the stray tears left on your hot cheeks with his thumb; your stomach sinks.

Because you know that look, the one he’s giving you right now. A look that only ends in harm.

There’s no point in fighting it, it’ll only make things worse for you. Only turn the punishment into something that’ll take longer to heal. So you don’t fight him when he drops to his knees and pulls down your cotton panties from your trembling legs.

You don’t fight him when he lays you across his knees and pulls up your dirty dress. Not even when you feel that first strike, the hard slap of his palm against your ass cheeks. You just lay there and take it.

One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six—Ten. Twelve. Thirteen—Nineteen. Twenty.

The tears rolling down your cheeks feeling as hot as your burning backside. Like molten lava that can’t be dispensed. Can only be built up and up until the only release is from the raw tear of your lungs from screaming so hard.

“How many do you think you deserve?” Din’s voice is low, something luftfilled laced in the mix of it. The hardness in his pants pressing into your stomach. Your body shakes when his palm smoothes across your reddened ass, a calming action that doesn’t feel calm. When you don’t answer quick enough he grabs the back of your skull, pulling your hair and bending your neck back far enough you think it’ll snap. “Answer me.”

“M-more,” you say weakly through sobs. “I deserve more.”

His smile makes your insides churn. Your nails digging harder into his pant leg when another hard blow is brought down to your raw cheeks. The more you squirm the harder they come. The harder Din breathes, grunts as you rub against his hardness.

“I don’t like punishing you,” another smack. “You’re too beautiful to bear the marks of someone who doesn’t know the way. Who doesn’t know where they belong. Who they belong to.” Another smack. His palm smoothes over your skin again, “no matter how pretty you sound in pain.”

When another smack doesn’t come but instead Din’s hand travels between the bottom of your cheeks and to your pussy, to where you’re embarrassingly wet, a whimper muffled in your cries as he runs his fingers through your wetness.

“Tell me who you belong to.” The pad of his index fingers presses to your clit, runs slow circles against it. “Remind yourself.”

You try to snap your mouth shut, try not to make any more noises. Try not to give any more this evil man and the evilness that runs off of him like poison and onto you—into your veins completely consuming. But his fingers are making quick work to have your hips gyrating against his lap, to have relentless whimpers and gasps land against your closed mouth.

You’re weak and you know it.

Maybe you do deserve to be here. Belong here. With him.

“You. I belong to you, I’m sorry.” You cry out.

“I know, I know.” Din kisses the top of your head. Pulls you up by your arms and splays you over a dirty table, kicking your legs apart with his foot and undoing his pants. His cock pressing to your entrance. A muffled noise of both pain and pleasure coming from your mouth as his hand comes to the back of your skull to push your cheek into the wood. The first thrust of his hips hard, making your ass slap against the fabric of his pants, the friction making your legs shake in agony. “You’re my special girl. You can’t leave. Next time I won’t be so kind.”

#din djarin smut #mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mandalorian x reader #din djarin x y/n #mandalorian smut #din djarin x female reader #mando x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x reader smut #din djarin imagine #din djarin one shot #din djarin fic #mando smut #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fanfic #kinktober #kinktober 2022

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midnightdjarin · 10 months

Text

just thinking about how in this scene din was probably thinking he might d!e and the only thing going through his head is how he’ll never see grogu again srry I just needed to feel something

#din djarin #mandalorian #pedro pascal #the mandalorian #din djarin one shot #din djarin x reader #din djarin mandalorian #the mandalorion spoilers #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian and grogu #grogu #din dijarin x reader #din djarin and grogu #the mandalorian season 3 #pedro pascal mandalorian #pedro pascal mando #pedro pascal pictures #star wars

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hyperactively-me · 10 months

Text

sharing a bed

He turns his head at your suggestion, clearly thinking of it. “Or I could leave” you mumble, leaning on the side of the wall. He’s still on the ground next to his bag diverting his gaze from your form. “Mando, I can just find a different place to stay–” “No.”

just wanted to ask you guys to please read this

(asks are open)

happy reading

warnings: none

“So…” you draw out, unsure of what to make of the situation.

Mando lets out an awkward cough, readjusting the heavy bag hanging over his shoulder.

The single bed stands out in the room like a bantha on Hoth, imposing on the comfortable, distant relationship between you and him.

He steps further into the room and drops the bag on the floor of the room. He looks back at you with his ever-stoic expression, unmoving.

Suddenly, he bends down to the floor, fumbling with the zipper on the bag. You watch as he slides it open with ease, large hands digging through the bag, rummaging around for something. You’re sure that he was only going through his bag because of the awkwardness of the situation, to divert from the topic.

“I’ll take the floor” he grunts out, voice strained. You gulp quietly, still standing at the threshold of the door.

“Uh, no. Mando…I don’t think that's going to be comfortable at all” you watch as he turns his head to you, an unreadable expression dons his demeanor. He continues to stare at you, silence permeating the air.

“Why don’t we share it, it's obviously big enough for the both of us” you suggest casually, not wanting to instigate tension in the already tense atmosphere. He stiffens at the thought, hands abruptly halting from their movement.

Well this is just great! You’ve made him uncomfortable, way to go! you think to yourself, internally beating yourself up over your words.

“Unless it's the helmet…” you stumble out, timidly stepping through the threshold and into the small bedroom. “I can cover my eyes somehow” you twist your hands together, unsure of what to say.

He turns his head at your suggestion, clearly thinking of it.

“Or I could leave” you mumble, leaning on the side of the wall. He’s still on the ground next to his bag diverting his gaze from your form.

“Mando, I can just find a different place to stay–”

“No.”

You stand there, gawking at him. His sudden, forceful tone shakes you to your core, his authoritative nature coming out in full force. Your face reddens a bit from this singular word, your brain racking through all of his meanings and insinuations.

“No, I mean…”

He clenches his hands together, his leather gloves creaking from his actions. He stands up abruptly, a small sigh crackling through the modulator of his helmet. You push the door behind you closed and lean on it gently, waiting for his response. He watches you carefully, studying your movement. He slowly walks up to you, bringing his hands up to his belt. The broadness of his shoulders eclipses your vision. You gulp nervously, awkwardly standing in front of him.

“I- ‘m fine with it” he draws out, fidgeting with the belt loops around his fingers.

“All right then” you say matter of factly, brushing past him quickly, averting your face from his view.

You kick off your shoes and shed your jacket, tossing it carelessly on top of Mando’s bag. You pull back the covers of the bed and plop down onto the mattress with a sigh. Mando slowly moves his way towards the bed, shedding his own armor and boots, methodically and thoughtfully. He concentrates on the way he handles his chestplate, gently placing it down near his bag. He does the same for his shoulder plates and leg armor, again placing it quietly next to his chestplate. You lay back slightly, watching him as he strips down to only his underclothes, a soft black shirt and dark pants.

“About the helmet…I have a cloth for your eyes–” he articulates, jumbled by the premise of the situation.

“Oh, of course, I’m sorry–”

“No, it's not your fault–”

“Really, I could just, if you’re uncomfortable with removing the helmet I could–”

“No” he presses out once more, his voice assertive and strained. “Just, put this on. Please” he nearly begs, internally crumbling from the awkwardness of the situation.

He holds out the dark cloth in his now bare hand. His hand is calloused, skin a tanned, golden honey. Your hand brushes his as you take it, skin brushing against skin. You meticulously tie the dark fabric around your eyes, blocking the world out from vision, plunging into darkness. You lean back fully in the bed, your legs straight as a pin under the covers.

You hear the hiss of his helmet disengaging, a sound you’ve only heard once or twice before. Your breathing speeds up, afraid of breaching his trust by somehow messing up, even with the blindfold on. The helmet sounds heavy and hollow as he sets it down. The mattress dips underneath you as he climbs into the bed, his breathing shallow. You hear him gulp, his muscles tensing under the sheets. Keeping your eyes open becomes a battle of its own, and you succumb to slumber as you hear the steady breathing of Mando beside you.

When you open your eyes, you feel something heavy draped over your back. As you stumble into consciousness, you remember the night before, Mando reluctantly climbing into bed with you. Your breathing picks up, shaking any ounce of sleepiness from your mind. As you begin to sit up, his arm shifts around your torso, pulling you towards him and into his side.

“Mando” you hiss out, face reddening at his unconscious actions.

“Mando, wake up” you say louder this time, feeling extremely uncomfortable in this position. His grip on you tightens slightly, your face smushed into his side.

You hear him groan out in acknowledgement, stuck between the state of dreamland and consciousness. His hands flex, a sharp inhale escapes his unmodulated lips. You begin to struggle under his arms, thinking of all the accusations he could make up, thinking of the awkwardness to follow from this night, thinking he might just leave you behind at some outpost after this whale incident. All of a sudden, he shoots straight up, shoving you away from him with a strong force.

You’re nearly thrown off the side of the bed, a small shriek escaping your lips at the unanticipated action. You grip onto the sheets, holding yourself steady near what you presume is the edge of the bed. The blindfold only heightens your anxiety, the darkness providing no insight on what he was doing in the moment. You hear his breathing begin to even out, your own breath slowing down from the past few moments.

“Are you okay?” he huffs out, his voice so very clearly unmodulated, and it sounds wonderful.

You stutter out “Uh, yeah,” gulping at his words.

You hear the sound of his helmet engaging, a hiss emitting from the machinery. Your heart sinks a little, yearning for the sound of his voice to grace your ears for just a little longer.

“I’m sorry– You can take off the blindfold now” he stutters out, floundering around his words.

“Oh” you say stupidly, lifting your hands up to remove the cloth. Your eyes adjust to the bright light of the room, and you see Mando lifting himself out of the bed. You watch him as he hurriedly puts his armor on, rushing to fasten the clasps around his shoulders. He yanks his gloves on then picks up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. You’re still sitting in the bed, a vacant expression hanging over your face as you watch him.

He looks over his shoulder and mutters out a quick “I’ll be ready outside when you’re ready” before throwing open the door and walking straight out of the room.

“...Okay then” you say, pushing yourself off the bed, a shade of red painting your face.

- - - - -

You lay in bed, eyes drooping, drowsy from sleepiness. You turn onto your back, stretching your legs and arms, a soft groan eliciting from your lips. Your eyes open a bit wider as a figure enters your vision.

Din.

A smile erupts from your face and you stretch your arms out towards him as he stalks over to the edge of the bed. You look up to him, your eyes raking over his form quickly. He’s wearing a soft black shirt with matching pants, and a small smile paints his face. The mattress dips under his weight as he gently climbs into the bed.. He crawls into your open arms, laying partially on top of you. You clasp your arms around his torso, drawing a contented sigh out from Din.

You bring one hand up to his hair, raking your fingers through his dark, curly locks, slowly and methodically. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath spanning your skin.

“You’re so soft” Din groans out from your neck, his hands tightening around your torso.

A warm feeling washes over you, your cheeks slightly blushing from the low timbre of his voice. His stubble scratches the skin between your neck and shoulder, tickling your skin. You bring your hands down to his face and lift his head up gently, forcing him to stare straight at you. His eyes are lidded, chin now resting on the soft skin of your stomach.

“Hi” you whisper.

“Hi” he whispers back, a lop-sided smile on his face.

A soft look washes over his face, and he drags himself up to lean in closer to your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he mutters, eyes darting back and forth between your lips and your eyes. You blush, a smile creeping up on you. He’s only a few inches away from your face, you can see every lineament and wrinkle of his skin, the gruff stubble on his face, his wiry mustache, his deep, dark, beautiful, brown eyes. He smells like sandalwood and greenery, the scent peppery and strong.

You lean in, closing the small gap between you two. You press your lips to his, inhaling at the contact. Your hands come up around his shoulders, tugging on him, trying to pull him up your body. His stubble scratches your chin in the finest way, his lips are so soft. Din draws his body farther up yours, pushing you deeper into the bed, the mattress pressing down on both sides of your form. He bites your lip, slowly pulling away as he breaks contact.

It’s like he’s floating above you, the dim light haloing his hair. You’re both breathing hard, flustered from the intimacy of the kiss. Suddenly, he grabs onto you and flips you over, a small gasp erupting from your lips. You’re on top of him, well partly on top of him, and he’s looking at you like you’re everything to him. His eyes widen and your heart flutters, a full blown grin displayed on his face. You put your hands on his shoulders, steadying your position on top of him. You smile back at him, snuggling into his chest. A deep inhale slips away your lips, taking in his scent.

“Hard to believe you’re a big, scary, bounty hunter when you’re so cuddly like this” you beam, staring at nothing in particular.

He lets out a raspy chuckle, hands coming up to rest on your back.

“Yeah, hard to believe” he huffs out, rubbing your back slowly.

You sigh, content, allowing the atmosphere of peace and tranquility, softness and love, to consume you.

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beskarandblasters · 9 months

Note

Girl, I need me some dom! Possessive as hell Din. Maybe him having reader chained up or tied up or something for acting like a brat or flirting with someone else and he punishes and edges her, learning her body and discovering what kinks make her go BRRRRR. Maybe some nipple play? Some choking and breath play? THANK YOU FOR YOUR SERVICE 🫡🫡🫡

Who Do You Belong To?

Possessive/Brat Tamer!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Summary: You and Din are on a random planet for a bounty. You split up to gain intel and he flirts to get what he needs from the locals. You get jealous and decide to give him a taste of his own medicine for the next bounty. He causes a scene and drags you back to the Crest where he makes sure you know who you belong to.

Word count: 2.9k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, established relationship, canon divergent (he’s still got the Razor Crest in this and Grogu is with Luke), Jealous/Possessive!Din, Dom!Din, Brat Tamer!Din, restraints, edging, teasing, nipple play, helmet stays on, fingering, vaginal sex, rough sex, two different positions, choking, creampie, slight breeding kink, no use of y/n

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

You and Din are fighting currently, giving each other the silent treatment. Which is hard to do in a small space like the Razor Crest and when you sleep together on the same tiny cot. The fight started last night while looking for a bounty

You were on random some Outer Rim planet and staking out the local cantina. You and Din decided to split up and chat up some of the locals to gain intel. And that’s when a certain female green Twi’lek got a bit too touchy feely with your Mandalorian. You watched it happen across the room. She touched his bicep and giggled. You could hear her shrill voice above the loud noises of the cantina, marveling at how strong he felt. You saw her scooch closer and whisper something beside his helmet. You could only imagine what she could’ve possibly said to him but that’s when you decided you had enough of this. You walked right over there and stood in between the two of them at the bar. Her smile melted into a scowl at your presence.

With a hand on your hip, you asked, “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Excuse me?” she laughed, “Mando and I were having a conversation and last time I checked you weren’t included.”

“So? He’s with me,” you challenged.

“Doesn’t seem like it, sweetie. Your man was flirting pretty hard with me,” she said smugly.

“Oh you think he was flirting with you?” you laughed, “He’s using you, to get what we’re both after.”

The smile faded from her face. And she knew exactly what your deal was.

“Oh I know exactly what your deal is. And I’m not giving you any information,” she said, turning to face the bar again.

Din sighed and stormed out of there. You followed him outside and as soon as you were alone he said, “Really? Was that necessary? Now the bounty is going to know we’re after him.”

“Well I’m sorry it looked like she was flirting with you,” you said, folding your arms.

“She was,” he said nonchalantly.

“Were you flirting back?”

“Yes, but it’s for the sake of getting the job done. It’s not real,” he shrugged.

“It’s still flirting,” you scoffed.

“It doesn’t even matter now. We’re going to have to get a new bounty because this one is out of the question now.”

You rolled your eyes and followed him back to the Crest. He lowered the exit ramp and you headed inside, climbing up the ladder to the cockpit and sitting down in one of the passenger seats without saying a word to him. He prepared the Crest for takeoff and set a course back to Nevarro. The whole trip back was silent, the tension hung heavy in the air around you. You resigned to staying back in the Crest as he collected a new bounty from Karga. The sun started to set by the time Din returned. You ate your ration separately like you always do but again didn’t speak the whole time. You changed into your pajamas and got into your routine of sleeping pressed against each other every night. He still held you despite the two of you being angry with each other. You drifted off to sleep replaying the night’s events in your head.

That was last night. Now it’s the following evening on some other Outer Rim planet again. This bounty brings you to a cantina… again. The sun is about to set and the town is winding down for the night (except for the cantina of course). You walk through the desolate streets, completely silent. Which you’re honestly getting really fucking tired of.

“I’ll go in first,” he says, stopping you in front of the entrance.

You roll your eyes. “Sure whatever you say,” you respond, deciding to act like a brat. Just to get a rise out of him.

He enters without saying a word to you and you follow soon after, eyes scanning the room. You watch him make his rounds, chatting up some women in a booth. Jealousy stirs in your stomach, along with a bit of rage. But you’re gonna give him a taste of his own medicine.

You spot a decently attractive man sitting at the bar who just happens to have an empty seat next to him. You head straight over there and sit, not saying anything to him just yet. But it turns out you don’t have to.

“Can’t say I’ve seen you here before,” he says, turning to face you. But you don’t meet his gaze yet.

“You haven’t,” you say, flagging down the bartender for a drink.

“A place like this is too rough for a pretty girl like you,” he says, sipping his own drink.

“Is that so?” you ask, turning and placing your elbow on the bar, resting your head on your hand.

The bartender stops in front of you and the man speaks first.

“Put whatever she’s getting on my tab,” he says, winking at the bartender.

“Oh, thanks! I’ll just have some spotchka.”

You glance over at Din in a booth with three women across the room. You could hear them laughing at practically everything he was saying. One of the women said something and Din’s response practically has your jaw on the floor. He’s laughing, like genuinely laughing, which is a rare occurrence.

She can’t be that fucking funny, you think to yourself as you seethe with anger. The man gave you the silent treatment for the past day and these random women in a cantina manage to pull a laugh out of him? Absolutely not.

The bartender brings your spotchka and you immediately start taking frequent sips, needing a little bit of liquid confidence for what you’re about to do. The man starts talking you up, asking all sorts of questions about you. You give him lies of course. This random man on this barren planet didn’t need to know about your life. You learn that his name is Orron. He’s a mechanic on this planet, mainly working on speeders. And he honestly seems like a nice guy. Throughout your conversation with him you glance over at Din, who’s still talking to those women but at one point he meets your gaze. So you decide to turn up the flirting. You start twirling your hair and laughing at pretty much anything he says. You even touch his bicep at one point. Honestly you’ve forgotten completely about the bounty Din’s after and you’re just flat out flirting now. You notice Din looked away from you and has gone back to talk with the women, so you feel a little defeated; defeated that that wasn’t enough to get his attention completely. You resign to letting Orron buy you more drinks and listening to more of his stories.

All of a sudden he goes in for a kiss. And kriff you didn’t mean for it to go this far. But before his lips could make contact with yours you feel a hand grip your shoulder. You look up and see Din, towering over you ominously.

“Hey buddy you’re interrupting something here,” Orron says, the aggravation seeping from his voice.

“Oh, I was? That’s too bad,” Din says sarcastically, “Come on, cyar’ika. We’re leaving.”

“Uh she’s with me, pal,” Orron says, standing and getting in Din’s face (well really helmet).

“No, she’s not,” Din says, grabbing Orron by the collar of his shirt.

“Hey! Knock it off! Go out on the street if you’re gonna fight!” the bartender shouts from behind the counter.

Din lets go and grumbles before storming out of the cantina. You stand and turn on your heel to follow him, not caring about Orron anymore. You try to ignore all of the faces staring at you on the way out before stepping out into the street and the crisp night time air. The alcohol is hitting you all at once, making you stumble a bit.

“What was that all about?” Din angrily asks.

“It was for the sake of getting the job done,” you reply, mocking him from yesterday.

“He was going to kiss you.”

“At least he can,” you snap.

Silence falls between you immediately. He grabs you by the arm and drags you back to the ship despite your protests.

“Let go! Stop it!” you shout but he doesn’t budge, keeping a firm grip on your arm. Thank the Maker the streets are dead or else you’d be getting weird looks. Maybe someone would even intervene.

He drops at the Crest lowers the exit ramp, pulling you inside before closing it behind him. He sits you down on a crate in the storage area of the ship and paces back and forth in front of you. You can tell he’s absolutely fuming under the helmet. You’d give anything to see his face at this moment.

“So you think you can just flirt with another man in front of me?” he says, stopping in front of you.

“So? You flirted with that twi’lek yesterday in front of me, too,” you respond, rolling your eyes.

He takes a step towards you and rests his arm against the wall, towering over you. His voice drops a few octaves.

“Do I have to show you who you belong to?”

“Maybe you do.”

“Strip.”

“Wha-”

“I said strip.”

He removes his arm from the wall behind you and steps back so you can get undressed. The anticipation of what he’s going to do makes your stomach stir excitedly. You rise from the crate you were sitting on and pull your shirt over your head, followed by sliding off your pants. You stand there in front of Din and wait for further instructions. The visor of his helmet trails up and down your naked form.

“Turn around,” he says sternly.

You turn around so your back is facing him. He grabs something off the shelf next to him and he grabs your hands. You feel something cold wrap around your wrist; handcuffs. You feel them fasten and then he pulls you against him, so your back is flush against his chest. The coolness of the beskar is a stark difference compared to the heat radiating off your skin in anticipation of his touch. He brings a gloved hand to your outline of your breast before moving to your nipple. He pinches it, emitting a small gasp from you. His other hand moves down your groin, palming the soft flesh and driving you insane. You ache for more contact, getting sick of the feather light touch.

“Din, please!” you beg.

A low chuckle comes out from under the helmet.

“Cyar’ika, you’re going to be begging all night. Better get used to it now.”

You whine and he brings a finger to the entrance of your cunt, trailing it up and down delicately. He moves his finger painstakingly slow as you grow wetter by the second. He goes to slip a finger in but pulls it away at the last second. You practically cry out at the false sense of hope and stimulation.

“Oh I bet you want it so bad,” he teases.

“So bad, Din. Please,” you whine.

“What makes you think I should give it to you? You were being a real bad girl.”

“I’m sorry, Din. I mean it.”

“Do you know who you belong to?”

“You! Only you!”

Without warning he plunges a finger into you, curling it upwards and working your slick walls. You moan out in response to getting the stimulation you were aching for.

“All this for one finger?” he teases as you writhe against him.

“I need more, Din. Please.”

He pulls his hand away from you and you whine at the absence of touch. But then he pulls his glove off and tosses it on the floor before returning his hand to your cunt.

“Wanted to feel how wet you are,” he purrs.

His other hand continues to pinch and squeeze your nipple, forming into a stiff peak between his fingertips. He slides a second finger in and you feel like you’re already going to cum, thanks to all the teasing. Your walls tighten around him and the muscles in your abdomen tense up in anticipation but before you can cum he pulls his fingers from you once more. You cry out at all of the pleasure that was built up slowly melting away.

“I didn’t say you could cum.”

You whimper. He brings his hand slowly back to your cunt and says, “When I feel you get close you better ask for permission or else I’ll stop again. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes,” you say with a shaky breath.

He returns his fingers inside you and brings you to the edge in no time. Your cunt clenches his fingers like a vice, soaking them completely.

“Please, Din. Can I cum?”

“Hmm,” he says, taking a second to think about it before moving his fingers faster. “Fine.”

And so you finally cum, the relief washing over you in waves after all the teasing and edging. Your release soaks his fingers and his hand, all the way down to his wrist. He leaves fingers inside you as you ride out your high, feeling the way your walls clench and release around him. He pulls them out of you when you’re done and says, “We’re not finished yet.”

He drags you by the arm over to the cot, your legs shaking underneath you. He grabs your hips and moves so you’re facing the cot.

“Bend over,” he says gruffly by your ear.

You bend over and rest your upper half on the bend, standing on your tiptoes and arching your back. He grabs one of your asscheeks and squeezes, pulling you into him. His cock is pitching a tent in his flight suit and you feel it twitch against you. He takes his other glove off and tosses it on the bed before pulling his cock out. His fingers breech your entrance again, gathering your release on his hand. He slicks his cock and hooks his hands on your hips. He thrusts into you hard, giving you no time to adjust to his size.

“Din!” you whine.

“You can take it,” he says sternly, slamming his hips into you.

With each thrust he drives his length deeper and deeper into you, hitting all of the perfect angles. The way he’s plowing into you makes you feral but you also wish you could see your man made of beskar above you. But then he grabs your hair and pulls you upright against him. His other hand returns to your nipple again, pinching it and alternating between the other.

“Can he do this to you?” he says, tightening his grip on your hair. “Can he fuck you like this?”

“N-no,” you choke out.

“That’s what I thought,” he says, slamming into you on the last word.

“Can I cum?” you ask, at the brink of release.

“Go ahead. Let me feel it.”

He pulls a second orgasm from you, this one even more intense than the last. You feel your muscles contract and release in erratic spasms, gripping his cock with each movement. He keeps fucking you through it, making it last even longer. You’re exhausted already but he’s not done. He’s still completely hard and nowhere close to coming. He unlocks the handcuffs and pulls out of you. You’re catching your breath as he spins you around before pushing you down on the cot. He pulls your thighs apart and gets in between them, pushing his cock into you once more. This time he grabs your throat, gripping it with the perfect amount of pressure as he fucks you relentlessly.

“Do I have to knock you up to make sure everyone knows who you belong to?”

“P-please,” you say softly.

“Oh yeah? You want me to fill you up?”

“Please, Din! I need it!” you cry out.

His grip on your throat releases and his hands move to your hips, pulling you into him with each thrust. The head of his cock brushes against your cervix and you cum around him one final time, soaking him with your juices. The sensation of you coming pulls his own orgasm from him and he paints your insides with his cum. This is the first time he’s come inside you and you’re obsessed with the feeling. He slows his pace before pulling out of you and laying down next to you. You place yourself in the crook of his neck as you catch your breath.

“So what do we think?” he asks. “Are we done with flirting for bounties now?”

“Hmm I don’t know. Maybe we should more often if you’ll fuck me like that,” you respond, completely blissed out.

“As long as you know who you belong to,” he says, rubbing your back.

“You and only you,” you whisper, sleepily.

“Good girl… I love you, cyar’ika,” Din says.

“I love you, too, Din.”

And with that you drift off to sleep pressed up against each other like the night before… but no silent treatment this time.

End note: Had to drop a little breeding kink in there lmao. But I hoped you all liked this!! Send me some more Din requests <3

If you want to be notified when I post a new fic follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications!

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fuckyeahdindjarin · 11 months

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Fuck Yeah Shorts

Welcome to my collection of short fics, including one-shots, two-parters and other limited series. Please read tags and warnings listed under each series and chapter before reading.

JOEL MILLER

Butter

Possible two-shot | baker! F!reader | no outbreak AU | moodboard

What if Joel doesn't forget to buy himself a cake for his birthday? But by the time he remembers, all the bakeries in his neighbourhood are closed - except yours.

FRANKIE MORALES

Grays (complete)

Rated E | two-shot | hairstylist! F!reader | includes collection of drabble requests set in Grays universe

Frankie wants you to cover up his grays. You want to knock some sense into his salt-and-pepper head.

JAVIER PEÑA

Letterman Jacket (complete)

E 🔞 | PWP oneshot | DEA Legal Counsel!F!reader

Tensions come to a head between you and Javier on the private jet back to Bogotá after a long, frustrating day. Or rather - after six long, frustrating years of bad blood.

DIN DJARIN

It Would Be (complete)

Rated T | two-shot | angst and yearning galore | F!reader

‘It would be easier if you just married him’.

MAIN MASTERLIST

#fuckyeahmasterlist #one shot #two shot #short series #pedro pascal cinematic universe #pedro pascal characters #frankie morales fanfiction #javier pena fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian fanfiction #frankie morales x you #javier pena x reader #javier peña x reader #din djarin x you #mando x you #mandalorian x you #francisco morales #frankie catfish morales

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golddustjedi · 7 months

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one shot requests open! ✨

hi everyone! I haven’t been on tumblr for a while but I really want to come back and revive my account. I’ve decided to start taking one shot requests again to practice my writing and make friends! have a look at my prompt list, pick as many as you want and send in your requests! I can do star wars, marvel, stranger things, harry potter, obx, and more. just ask!

prompts:

1. "I'll show you the dark side."

2. "I told you to stay behind."

3. "You get back here, that's an order!"

4. "Have you been drinking?"

5. "Where have you been? You were with him/her again, weren't you?"

6. "Do you trust me?"

7. "Why are you helping me?"

8. "I've waited so long for this."

9. "Shouldn't you be sleeping?"

10. "We could get in serious trouble for this."

11. "I'm never going to leave you again."

12. "Finally... after all this time."

13. "Are you crying?"

14. "Was that supposed to hurt?"

15. "I could never love someone like you."

16. "You won't." "Watch me."

17. "I don't believe you."

18. "I don't have to explain myself to you."

19. "You have to be quiet."

20. "Why do you always do this?"

21. "You need to leave."

22. "We need to talk about last night."

23. "Let's not make a scene." "No, let's."

24. "How much of that did you just hear?"

25. "People are staring."

26. "Don't look at me like that."

27. "What did you just say to me?"

28. "I've heard enough."

29. "Who was that? Who were you just talking to?"

30. "Is this a game to you?"

31. "I'm sorry, you're just making it really hard for me to focus."

32. "I don't know who you are anymore."

33. "Do you have to be so loud?"

34. "Have we met before?"

35. "Let me help you."

36. "Who did this to you?"

37. "You're hard to resist."

38. "You're cold. Take my jacket."

39. "Don't be afraid."

40. "The code forbids it?

41. "Get out of here while you still can."

42. "Were you ever going to tell me?"

43. "Am I interrupting something?"

44. "You don't scare me."

45. "No, you listen to me."

46. “I loved you.”

47. “Who did this to you?”

48. “I hate you.” “No you don’t.” “No… I don’t.”

49. request your own prompts!

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hes-a-rainbow · 1 year

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My last two brain cells

Should I make this into a t-shirt?

Support my Queer Owned (very!) Small Business

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the-blind-assassin-12 · 11 months

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Tidal Force

A MERMAY ONE SHOT

A/N: Here we are with yet another thing I had no intention of writing but that grabbed hold of my brain and wouldn’t let go - a mermaid au (sort of, you’ll see) featuring Din Djarin. Hence why I am posting this in the very middle of the night (which is actually kind of appropriate for this story... again, you’ll see). I had fun with it, and I hope that you will, too.

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: deep water, brief mention of injury, female reader who is for all purposes a mermaid, departure from canon because if we’re throwing mermaids in we can also throw some canon out. i have spoken.

Summary: You’ve always felt drawn to the moon, you just never really knew why. Until now.

As far back as you could remember, you had always felt the pull of the moon.

It would start in your chest - a slow swell of longing that eventually became impossible to ignore. Not that you ever wanted to. Equal parts ache and bliss, curiosity and apprehension, it would tug you towards the open water with just one thought echoing through your mind:

Maybe tonight. Maybe this time.

You knew it was improbable. Even as you cut through the current, the cool water gliding over your skin and the iridescent scales of your fins, you knew. Even as you rose up, up, up through the depths, and those thoughts repeated over and over again, you knew. Even as you swam with all of your speed and strength towards the source of the pull, you knew what you were most likely to find - nothing but the thick, glassy ceiling that separated your world from the surface, from the topside, from the silver-white glow of Concordia’s kiss.

But maybe.

Maybe it would be the night that the legends were proven true. Maybe you would finally see the sky, feel fresh air, be kissed by the moonlight. A rush of warmth would bubble through your bloodstream. Maybe it would be the night that you left the sunken, sealed depths of the Sundari Sea, shed your tail and stepped out on dry land.

Maybe tonight.

You tried, each time, not to let your hopes soar too high. But the lure of the moon was no match for your will, and each time you rose only to be disappointed by the press of your palm against the crystalized barrier between worlds. You would sigh, curling your fingertips against the semi-transparent ceiling. The swell in your chest would begin to recede as you gazed up through the glass and wondered if any of it was true. If there ever even was a topside. And if there wasn’t, you wondered if you would ever be free of the pull.

Not tonight.

You would return to your home, swimming back into the deep and down through the channels that connected the sea to the underground system of beskar caves and saltwater lakes, where the rest of your kind lived. It was safe there. Secluded, yes, but safe from attack or invasion. You would curl back up in your bed and remind yourself of that, and as the current settled around you again, you recalled the stories from your childhood, falling asleep with your favorites playing through your mind.

The kiss of Concordia. The one who lived in both worlds. The sea maiden who rescued the topside king.

According to the myths you were raised on, Mandalore had once been a very different planet than it was now - one with lush forests that were rich with natural resources, one that was home to the most skilled warriors in the galaxy. These topsiders encased themselves in armor made from the beskar that lined the underwater caves, the very same mineral that the shimmery, chain-link clothing your people wore on their top halves was made from, and an agreement was made between the two worlds of Mandalore - that those above, in their impenetrable suits of steel, would offer protection from outside enemies to those below in exchange for access to the beskar.

For centuries the agreement held, and relations between the Mandalorians of the Sundari Sea and those who lived on land continued to remain peaceful. The legends even told of a sea maiden named Cyare and the leader of the land dwellers who had fallen in love despite not being able to share the same world. The man had been shot down in some skirmish over the sea, and the weight of his armor had dragged him down, fast. Unconscious and injured, he surely would have died had the sea maiden not found him and pulled him back up to the surface.

She stayed with him for days until he woke, tended to his wounds for weeks and cared for him until he was healed. The bond that was formed between them was so pure and powerful, so full of love, that on the night before he was to return home to his people, as the light of the full moon touched her skin, she was transformed. Her scaled tailfin became two legs, and she rose from the water to stand beside her beloved, the final barrier between their worlds broken.

The stories almost always ended with the prophecy that one day, another sea maiden of Mandalore would be called to rescue another Mandalorian warrior, and that their moonlit union would signify another long and prosperous era of peace and protection between the two worlds.

But it was just a story.

You had been trying to tell yourself that for years. Others of your kind let go of those legends as they got older, moved on and accepted that they were nothing but tall tales spun to entertain imaginative children. None of them were pulled from their chambers in the middle of the night by some force of the tide each time the moon was full. None of them longed to have the chance to walk on land, none of them needed to know what the moonlight felt like.

Because it isn’t even possible.

There were other stories that you’d grown up with, but those weren’t ones you liked to remember. They told of war and destruction so brutal and violent that it had ravished the planet, left it stripped and scarred, decimated the oceans. Layers of crust and crystalized vapor overtook the entire surface, sealing the sea beneath them. Any topsiders who survived those wars had long since forgotten that the Sundari Sea had ever existed, and then they, too, had ceased to exist.

The legends told of an event known as the Great Purge - an attack on Mandalore that was meant to erase its people once and for all. That one, though the heaviest and most upsetting of them all, was unfortunately also the one that was most likely true. Afterall, no one had seen a topsider in close to a hundred years.

And that includes the moon. No one has seen the moon since before the Great Purge.

It was that thought that broke your heart the most. Because it meant that the stories and the prophecy were only just that - legends and fables. But even realizing this, you knew that the next time you felt the pull of the moon you would still follow it. Even knowing that it was impossible, you would still seek the open air and the silver light and the possibility that the land dwelling Mandalorians might return one day.

– – – –

“But the mines were destroyed in the Purge.”

How am I supposed to bathe in the Living Waters if I can’t even get to them?

He stood opposite the Armorer, the weight of her visor of her golden helm trained directly on him.

“This is the Way.”

Her reply was one he’d heard countless times before. But that had been the first time that it hadn’t felt like reassurance. Still, he returned the words and accepted the challenge. Because even if it was impossible, it was the only path he could take.

This is the Way.

When Bo-Katan had declined his invitation to join him on his journey to Mandalore, he had been further disheartened. She had once been the spearhead of the initiative to retake the ancestral homeworld of their people. To hear her say that Mandalore was lost, that she had no desire to return to it anymore didn’t make him feel any better about the chances of his mission being a success.

But I have to try. I have to.

“Then I will go alone.”

She glared at him from the throne in the great hall of her stronghold on Kalevala. “Then you’re a bigger fool than I thought you were, Din Djarin.” A mirthless laugh left her lips as she raised one hand towards the door. “Go on. Leave me in peace.”

He did as she asked then, but when he landed safely on the surface of Mandalore several days later and found that it wasn’t toxic or poisoned or blown to pieces like she and others had said it was, he felt far from foolish. For the first time since being told that he was no longer a Mandalorian, he felt something start to swell inside him. Hope. With help from R5 he was able to scan the surface and locate the ruins of the civic center in the city of Sundari, beneath which lay the mines and the Living Waters.

When he was attacked by a pack of Alamites along the way, he hadn’t noticed that one of them had managed to sink its tusk between his chest plate and shoulder pauldron. He’d dispatched them before the pain could register, and that had been further delayed as the last one fell with a thud, clearing his view and giving him his first glimpse at what he’d thought was impossible.

Redemption.

Instead of destroying them, the seismic activity of the Purge had actually deepened the waters, opening up underground aquifers that hadn’t been accessed in centuries. Stumbling forwards, he made his way into the shallows, reciting the words of the Creed aloud in the empty chamber. But halfway through, he lost his step and suddenly the weight of his armor and the pull of the water was too much for his battle-weakened body, and he was plummeting. Down, down, down to the depths.

– – – –

You woke with a jolt, gasping and clutching at your chest.

It had never been so strong. Where it normally began as a gentle pull, that night it was as though a hook had lodged itself in your heart and was dragging you into motion.

Tonight. You thought, and it was the first time that you felt so sure, the first time that there wasn’t a maybe attached. Tonight. Tonight.

You raced through the channels and rose towards the surface, but this time, instead of following the same path you always took, you felt the pull take you a different way.

But this doesn’t lead to the surface. This just leads to the old mines and the…

It was then that you remembered the last detail of the story about Cyare and the Mandalorian king. The pool of water where she was able to stay close to him after rescuing him had since been built around and used ceremoniously as a place of new life and fresh starts.

They called it the Living Waters. That’s… that’s where I’m going now.

You weren’t sure why, because you knew for a fact that the moon wouldn’t be visible from there. But the urgency you felt only grew with each beat of your heart, and you swam faster than ever to find out why. And you didn’t have to wait long.

As soon as you arrived, your eyes doubled in size as you saw him - the figure of a man from the world above, clad head to toe in shiny beskar armor just like in the myths, plunging through the dark, cold water to what would certainly be his demise.

I have to help him!

You couldn’t be sure if the thought came first, or if it was your grip beneath his arms, but once you had him securely in your hold, you darted straight up until you breached the water and were surrounded by the cathedral like cavern of the partially collapsed mines. With a powerful push of your tail, you lifted the man up onto the steps that led out of the water. For a few terrible seconds you waited, watching his chest for the rise and fall of breaths, wondering if you’d been too late. But just as you were about to reach out and touch him again, a cough came from under his helmet and relief flooded your whole being.

“You’re alive!” The rush of joy you felt over that simple statement was almost too much. Another round of coughing and sputtering came as his reply, and then you noticed the blood. Oh, no. Frowning, you looked down at him. “But you’re hurt. Don’t move, let me take a look.”

“Who…” He coughed again as you pressed both hands to the gap between the metal covering his body. “Who are you?”

You licked a few stray drops of water from your lips and told him your name. “I am a sea maiden of Mandalore.” Narrowing your eyes, you peered at his wound and sighed as you realized it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, and that you’d be able to patch it up with paste made from the grasses that grew in the lakebed of these waters. “Who are you?”

He panted out a few uneven breaths and groaned as he sat up slightly. “My name is Din Djarin. I-” He sucked in a breath and you pulled your hands away, sinking further down into the water. When he spoke again, he did so with a small but noticeable shake of his head. “I didn’t know that there were sea folk on Mandalore.”

That actually made you smile. “And I didn’t know that there were any topsiders left on Mandalore.” He tilted his chin, the curve of his helmet catching a reflection from the water, but before he could speak again he flinched and grabbed for his injured shoulder. “Hold on,” you told him, lifting one finger. “I’ll be right back.”

With that you disappeared beneath the water in search of the grass you knew to have medicinal properties, snatching up a handful and rising back up. Crushing it between your fingers and mixing it with water in your palm, you turned it to a paste and held it up. “This will help with your shoulder.”

He didn’t protest, nodding instead, and you moved quickly to apply the treatment. As you drew your hand back again, he said your name. “Thank you. For saving me.”

You smiled at him again, still buzzing with adrenaline from what had happened. “You’re welcome, Din Djarin of Mandalore.”

“Actually…” He sighed and circled the shoulder you had just finished tending to, clearly surprised at how quickly the salve had gone to work. “This is my first time here on Mandalore. I was raised on the moon of Concordia.”

You felt the shock that you were sure he saw on your face, your thoughts beginning to race wildly.

Concordia. The moon. That’s why- He’s why… Why I felt the pull tonight. It wasn’t the moon it was… it was him. He was what I’ve been drawn to. And now he’s here and-

“Are you alright? Did I say something to-” He reached for your arm then, and you realized that one of his gloves must have been lost when he was dragged down, because you felt his skin brush yours, as light as a kiss.

Tonight. Tonight. Tonight.

As soon as he touched you it started - a tingling sensation throughout your body. Looking down at your lower half, you watched in awe as the scales of your tail transformed into the same chain link material of your shirt, lengthening into a dress that covered a pair of legs instead of a tail.

“What… what happened, are you…” He rose somewhat shakily to stand beside you.

You grasped onto him, unsure if it was for his stability or yours at that point, but it didn’t matter. It was all true. The myth. The prophecy. Concordia’s kiss. It was too soon to tell if the rest of the story would ring true - the part concerning the romance and the lifelong bond that Cyare and the Mandalorian in the myth would share - but there would be plenty of time to see how that would unfold now that your two worlds had been joined. Lifting your eyes to the darkened visor you imagined his must be behind, you took a deep breath.

“I have been waiting a very long time for this night.” You nodded and swallowed a thick knot of complicated emotions. “We have to talk. About the future of Mandalore.”

Returning your nod, and gently gripping your forearm, he responded. “This is the Way.”

Thank you for reading! If you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please feel free to let me know or you can fill out the form on my masterlist.

tags: @something-tofightfor @gollyderek @pheedraws @beautifuldesastre @alraedesigns @valkblue @commanderlola @cannedsoupsucks @dihra-vesa @marauderskeeper @disgruntledspacedad @littlemisspascal @mishasminion360 @stevie75 @nyctophiliiiiaaa @practicalghost @tanzthompson @harriedandharassed @woodlandmouth @swtaura @thescarletfang @trickstersp8 @princessxkenobi @imtryingmybeskar @wildmoonflower @mswarriorbabe80 @hp-hogwartsexpress @theredwritingwitch @silverstarsandsuns @competentpotato @pedro-pedrito-pascalito @pedrostories

#mermay 2023 #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #din djarin mermaid au #mando x female reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian mermaid au #mando mermaid au #this is the way #tidal force #din djarin one shot #pedrostories

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