#when bo Katan opens her mouth

[amywritesthings]

CHAPTER 16: PEACE

The POINT A TO POINT B Series

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader ( The Mandalorian ) Word Count: 2.7K Summary: You and Din take a travel break for a wintery surprise. Tags: Sensuality, Anxiety, Wintertime themes, Helmetless!Din, Kisses A/N: Welcome to The First Day of the Twelve Days of Amymas! It's been a while, Mando. Enjoy this fluffy, feel-good winter-themed update as our fearless Duo get cozy one week after last chapter's events.

Previous Chapter. / Next Chapter. | Series Masterlist.

CHAPTER 16: PEACE

.

“I told you not to look.”

The modulated voice catches you before your hand can touch the cockpit’s steel ladder.

On a ship as small as the Razor Crest, you're not surprised the Mandalorian has caught you in the act of defying his request:

Stay in the belly of the ship until his say.

(As if there is anywhere to go.)

Don't look out of portholes.

(As if there are any.)

Don't peek at the cockpit.

(As if you're constantly lounging in it.)

But his request, as silly as it may seem, comes with a caveat.

It's a surprise — whatever that may be.

At first, you're worried that the end is closer than you thought.

Maybe, just maybe, he's decided to beeline straight to Coruscant. After all, everything came to a head last week.

You still haven't spoken about the incident on Trask. Your run-in with Bo-Katan and her crew. The freighter.

Too close of a call; you thought you'd lost him, and in turn, he thought he'd nearly lost you.

Such turmoil could convince him to finish the job faster, if only for your best interest.

However, it isn't like either of you have tried talking in the last several days — not when your mouths are busy elsewhere.

(Blindfolds, eager kisses, sweat-slicked skin, fumbling hands, whispered promises.)

You could chalk up his sudden change in gear to finally sleeping with you, though with the amount of hours you've laid lazily in his bed rather than your makeshift closet, you very much doubt he regrets the change of pace.

(You sure as hell don't.)

Still, the worry festered the longer he keeps this 'surprise' from you.

Had something gone wrong?

Was he trying to keep you ignorant from growing danger?

Had he caught wind on Moff Gideon's location?

So many variables.

So little time.

Din, of course, reassured this is a good surprise the second he saw that thousand-yard stare begin to surface on your face.

(You're still not used to calling him Din, not really.)

Instead of spiraling, then, you listen — for the most part.

Clearly he overestimates your patience when saddled with scrubbing blasters for the day.

Now you're here, caught red-handed at the cockpit ladder.

To keep the growing smile to yourself, your chin drops to your chest.

“I thought you were up there," you begin, airy in tone, "so I thought I’d come to say hello.”

“Really?”

The punctuated syllables tells you he’s unconvinced.

“Really,” you lie.

The clanking of shifting beskar armor moves closer to your back. You stay staring forward at the ladder to avoid the budding laughter in your throat.

Then an orange-tipped glove reaches past you to tap twice against a little red knob on a square console.

"Funny you say that," he begins, and you snort with suppressed laughter, "because a steady red on the occupancy indicator usually means—”

“Okay, okay,” you relent with an amused sigh. "I knew you weren't up there."

"Thought so."

Guilty as charged: he calls out your white lie with a little joke of his own.

You've noticed he's more at ease these last few days. Lighter. More open to this, whatever this is.

The heel of your boot finally turns clockwise until you're approached to face the Mandalorian in full. His armor gleams under the faint overhead lights of the Crest. One hand sits square on his hip while the other drops to his side.

“Maybe I wasn’t looking for you, but you have to understand: I’m restless, Mando. You’ve had me cooped in cargo for hours.”

“Din,” he corrects, “and it’s barely been an hour.”

“Feels like it’s been four, Din,” you quip, cheekily chirping his first name back to him.

Din Djarin; the name rolls off your tongue, more intimate that a kiss.

He clearly loves hearing it.

Both of your hands raise in surrender. The white flag has been raised.

“What’s so special about where we’re going, anyway?”

The chin of his helmet tilts ever so slightly to the left.

“I told you: it’s a surprise.”

“So much of a surprise that I can’t even look? You know, even if I did look, I couldn’t tell you which planet is what anyway.” You tap your temple. “Memory’s gone, remember?”

Din chuckles, disengaging.

“Be patient, Princess. We’ll be landing soon enough.”

You want to keep asking questions, but a curious coo from a blanket-bundled nest breaks both of your concentrations.

The Child stares up from his comfy cocoon, observing you both with bleary, beady eyes. He's only half awake, clearly only checking to see if all is well in cargo.

“Right, kid? You agree with me,” you tease, pointing to the Mandalorian as he passes you.

Din gently pushes your index finger out of his way with a filtered huff, before his boots clank against the metal ladder.

“He tells us not to look then expects us to actually listen." You lean into towards the Child when he coos happily, seemingly on your side even if he's sleepy. "The nerve of this guy.”

“I heard that,” he calls back to you once he reaches the upper level of the ship.

Then an exhale of a door sounds above, only to seal seconds later with a clean zip.

The red dot on the occupancy indicator flashes green.

"Cute, Mando, very cute," you mumble under your breath.

For an hour you pace the tin can of a ship with little restraint.

Every time you round the ladder, you're half-tempted to climb up yourself and remind him that you don't have to point towards the window of the cockpit if he simply lets you sit on your knees to—

In a flash, everything shakes and wobbles.

You can tell you’ve breached an atmosphere, but the lack of portholes in the cargo belly makes it impossible to see exactly what's going on.

It’s a slightly bumpy descent — not enough to warrant seatbelts, but you do hold onto the cargo straps near the Child’s bedding to make sure you and the kid stay put.

"Everything okay up there?" you call to him, but Din doesn't respond.

The mouth of the ship, however, does.

Slowly the mechanics wheeze to detach from their locks, detaching from the Razor Crest's frame to open the cabin to something blindingly bright.

You wince and take a step back, shielding your eyes with your left forearm from the outside light as the landing pad continues to lower from the ship.

A foreign freeze meets you, chilling you to the bone.

Cold licks and clings to your body.

The landing ramp begins to extend, revealing... a sea of white.

Wait.

Your arm drops like lead, eyes widening when you realize a belated breath too late what stands before you.

Or really... falls.

Gentle white flakes float from the sky to a pillow-soft ground, covering any grass that could have been in sight.

Large trees are littered with slippery domes, solidified from the cold.

Ice.

What covers the tree branches are what they call icicles.

One foot in front of the other, you're slow to investigate the mouth of the ship.

Even if you hear heavy boots descend the ladder in decided clunks, you cannot look away from the scenic atmosphere ahead of you.

Then you remember:

I know there's planets out there full of oceans.

Two nights ago, you'd been lying in bed naked with the Mandalorian recovering from another round of exploring what it means to be alive.

Your black blindfold was discarded carelessly across his bare chest, sheets barely hiding the patch of hair trailing under his belly button.

You'd chosen to lay over the sheet, too overheated from the night's activities.

His breath puffed gently through the modulator while his naked thumb absently stoked your bare shoulder.

As he came back down from his high, he let you talk to fill the silence.

About anything.

Everything.

Legends of cities born underwater, forests that survive through endless white… it's silly, but I'd love to see them all. To travel the galaxy and then some.

He never interrupted you.

He just let his fingers explore, dance, along your skin like his need for discovery ended right here.

Maybe once I'm there I'll remember that I've been there before, but experiencing that sort of stuff for the first time?

He hums with acknowledgement.

Content.

I hope to see as many as I can before I’m back to Coruscant.

(The unspoken caveat was three words: Only with you.)

"Forests that survive through endless white," you whisper to yourself, cautiously walking down the ramp closer to the flurry of white.

You reach out a palm to catch the tiny flecks as they descend.

One hits your palm, cold to the touch, and you draw your hand back to your chest in surprise.

“Naboo isn’t always covered in snow.”

Your attention finally breaks from the woods ahead to look back.

Din finally reaches the bottom of the ladder.

The metal jostles as the bounty hunter drops his arms and makes his way towards you.

“This is Naboo?” you ask, unable to hide your excitement.

Din settles beside you, his metallic helmet tilting high to watch the gray sky above the ship.

“I thought Naboo was full of cities. This looks deserted.”

“Naboo is densely populated, yes, but it also has its untouched biomes,” he explains. "The entire planet doesn’t experience snow, but some parts do. It isn’t an endless white, but—”

You can't help it.

You rush towards the forest floor.

The bounty hunter’s voice cuts with concern when your boot slips a little at the bottom.  

“Careful, Princess.”

“I’m fine, Mando!” you call back once you’ve found your footing, invigorated by the sights and sounds before you. "Sorry — Din!"

You grin from ear to ear, feet walking in a circle to take it all in.

He listened.

He really detoured from the original travel plan to bring you here.

Something cold and wet hits your cheek, your chin, and you flinch on impact.

The flecks from the sky — you gaze up into the cloudy, cold gray with palpable wonder.

Snowfall.

You twirl again in pure joy, giggling softly.

“Mother of Moons, this is… I’m…”

Perfect.

Maybe you had visited a snowy planet in your past life.

Maybe the old version of you would have found something so miraculous to be so trivial.

Yet here, now, you cannot think of anything more perfect that this: the crunch of snow under your boots, the blanket of silence that seems to envelope the forest around you—

And him.

The Mandalorian willing to offer such a gift when so much is already at stake.

“What do you think?” you finally ask, spinning back to face him. 

The Mandalorian is no longer staring at the sky.

His chrome visor simply watches you.

“It’s beautiful,” he answers quietly, contemplative.

Your heart swells.

"How long can we stay?"

"An hour," he replies. "Maybe two. Not long."

"That's plenty of time," you reassure, already feeling the cold swell on your fingertips.

For what feels like forever you step around the blankets of snow, admiring how the fluff crinkles under your boots. You shift back and forth, toe to heel, to memorize the sound.

You're well aware that your clothes, your hair, are quickly becoming damp.

It doesn't matter.

Eventually the circle you've created with your feet takes you back to the Razor Crest. The shoulders of your tunic are quickly turning a peppered tan and white.

Din is also covered head to toe in the gentle flurry, though the little specks melt on impact against the beskar armor.

You grin.

"Hold still."

"Hmm?" He listens nonetheless, straightening his posture at your command.

Reaching with chilly fingers, you wipe away a rogue snowflake from his visor and laugh under your breath.

"Did that make it worse?"

"I can't feel the snow," he responds. "I'm not cold."

"No, I meant your vision, Din Djarin," you reply with a snort.

"Oh. I..."

"Here, let me fix it."

He drops his chin obediently when you pull at your tunic sleeve to wipe the streak of water from the chrome visor.

After a moment passes, you drop your arm back to your side and stare into his helmet.

“...thank you, for taking me here,” you murmur. “You didn’t have to stop here just because I wanted to see—”

“I did,” he interrupts with complete certainty.

His hand rises, mirroring your motions. Din crooks his orange-tipped index finger and lifts your chin to meet his visor.

“No need to thank me.”

You can’t help but melt like the snow between you. 

Always so chivalrous and thoughtful; something has changed in the Mandalorian since that fateful day. Where he once looked at you as cargo now sits a warm aura in a profoundly human way.

And it's touched you, too. He isn't just a bounty hunter, but an ally.

A partner.

A lover.

His quiet considerations have only wanted you to become a better person.

(And for the Razor Crest to never make its final destination.)

You could spend all of your days, you realize, traversing the galaxy just like this: with a bounty hunter and his ward and this imperfect ship, with no final point of descent.

“Close your eyes.”

The modulated command is but a whisper.

Without delay, you obey — your eyelids flutter closed, allowing the silence and light scent of frozen water to overtake you.

Then you hear a mechanical wheeze overhead.

You continue to keep your eyes shut, but the smile that grows on your lips is telling:

You know exactly what Din Djarin is about to do.

Although you cannot see him shifting above you, you imagine the way he lifts his Mandalorian helmet just over the bridge of his nose. The strong lines of his jaw, peppered with bits of facial hair…

You have never seen his face yet Din is a crystal-clear image in your invisible sight.

Then something warm tinged with ice presses to your lips.

The tip of his thumb drags along your lower lip, tugging it away from the seam.

You can’t help but huff a breath of anticipation. "Do I have something on my face?"

"Something like that," he replies in his noncommittal way, unfiltered by his helmet. "Let me help catch it."

For seconds it’s just this: sensation, feeling, trust—

And then his lips brush against yours, pressing plush and eager.

He is drastically warm compared to you, and you press back to soak up his heat.

Your cold fingers glide along his chest plate, blindly searching for that cowl of his. Your fingertips quickly snag and curl around it, pulling him closer.

The message is loud and clear — his free arm encircles your waist, dragging you into his armor.

Din’s kiss is adoring, gentle, and you linger in the high of his boldness.

His trust.

(The blindfold never left his pocket.)

Desperate to feel him, you keep your eyes shut tight and meet his deepening kisses, unable to stop the breathy noise in the middle of your throat when his tongue flick against your lower lip.

Then he pulls away, and you find yourself tumbling closer.

A naked laugh, smooth as velvet, vibrates through your whole body.

"Easy."

"Come back."

"We have to go," Din murmurs, and you lift your chin to follow the sound of his bravado.

"Can we warm up together, at least?"

"Was that not always the plan?"

You grin, eyes still closed.

A beat passes, and his gloved hand gently runs along your chilled cheek.

“Happy?”

His voice is so small.

You nod, brushing your bare nose with him, and reply just as small.

“Very.”

And you could be, for all of your days, if he chooses to never let you go.

.

#din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando x reader #din djarin x reader #mando x you #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fluff #fic: point a to point b #twelve days of amymas

[clonesimpextra]

Rough and Sweet

Pairing: Bo-Katan Kryze x Fem!Reader Rating: 18+ ONLY Word Count: 1.3K Summary: Mandalorian Season 3 Ep 1 SPOILERS. When Din leave Kalevala, you and Bo-Katan have a ... discussion on the throne. A/N: The chokehold this image has over me ... going to be thinking about it for DAYS. YEARS. Also available on AO3

Bo-Katan was different lately. 

You noticed the changes slowly at first: a few more hours lying in bed in the morning, a bit later to sleep at night.

As, one by one, her once loyal followers abandoned her in search of something more, things only got worse. The hours in bed grew longer, her time sulking in the throne room became more frequent.

In the dawn of the New Republic, the galaxy was moving forward, towards a new purpose. But Bo-Katan’s purpose had always been, would always be, Mandalore. 

With the Darksaber lost to a person she actually respected, a person she refused to fight, that purpose was diminishing. You knew because you watched it happen, continue to watch it happen, from your place beside her on Kalevala, the only person who has never left her side.

Bo-Katan’s purpose is Mandalore, yes, but your purpose is a Beskar-clad red head who is currently lounging on the Kryze throne, wallowing in a self-hatred that has become all too familiar to your eyes.

“You’re doing it again,” you sigh as you watch Din Djarin’s starship disappear into the atmosphere.

When she doesn’t answer, doesn’t so much as move, you turn to face her, eyebrow raised. Bo-Katan only leans further into the throne, avoiding your gaze.

“I told you. If you cannot accept this is how I am now, then you should leave.” She lays her head back, red hair such a stark contrast to the dark of the throne. “Leave like everyone else has.”

You roll your eyes as you walk toward her. This attitude of hers is nothing new. She gets like this when she’s reminded of the promises she hasn’t been allowed to keep, of the world and the people who always seem to slip just past her grasp. No one loves Mandalore like the stubborn, frustrating woman before you. It just doesn’t always love her back.

That is exactly where your work is needed.

“And I told you that I would follow you anywhere.” You place a hand against her cheek, lean down to whisper against her lips. “Even if it’s only to remind you of who you are.”

For a single moment, Bo-Katan stiffens under your touch. You wonder if she’ll turn away from you the way she has so many times since her mission with Din. But just as you’re about to pull back, she raises one hand to keep yours close, another to grip onto your hip and guide you forward to straddle her muscular thigh. 

Her voice is strained when she speaks, as if reigning herself in. “And who am I?”

“You are Bo-Katan Kryze.” You sit down fully, grind your cunt forward and back with just enough pressure to momentarily satiate the ache between your legs. The action results in you only wanting more. Still, you have more to say.

“Mandalore runs through your veins.” Bo-Katan’s hand grips harder onto your hip, her fingers pressing bruises into your flesh and you gasp your next words into her mouth, just out of reach. “You are its protector. Its redemption. Its—”

“Look at me.”

You blink your eyes open, uncertain when they had even slipped closed. Bo-Katan stares up at you, her head tilted, a fire in her gaze you haven’t seen in quite some time. Your hand, long since fallen from her cheek, rests on her armored chest. Bitting your lip, you trace the edges of the Beskar plate to the side, unfasten the clasps. 

The only movement Bo-Katan makes is in the push and pull of her arms as they continue to grind your cunt harder onto her thigh. She doesn’t help you with the armor, but you don’t need it. This terrain is plenty familiar.

When her breasts are free from the armor, the steady thrusts of her arms pushing them together then apart under her tunic, Bo-Katan finally moves. She pulls you forward just enough so that her chest is pressed firmly against yours. Her thigh jerks up in the process, ripping a ragged moan from your throat at the jolt of pleasure piercing up your body.

Normally you like to take your time with her breasts. Cup them in your hands, suck their nipples into stiff peaks as you force your name to tumble out of her mouth — tit for tat, really. But its been so long since Bo-Katan has wanted you like this, you’re not about to complain.

“You want to remind me of who I am?” Another jerk, and this time you almost cry. “Answer me, love,” she whispers against your cheek, her breath and her words sending warmth straight to your core.

You nod frantically, breathing out a “yes” that sounds more like a whine.

“Then show me what I do to you.” One hand lets go of your hip to lay a stinging slap across your ass. “Show me how well I take care of you with nothing but this fucking thigh.”

Your pace increases, the vast hall echoing your desperate pleas back to you.

“Fuck,” you grit your teeth against a particularly strong wave of heat, grinding harder, searching for it again as it fades. “Bo, fuck.”

She watches you squirm, eyebrows pinched like she wants to remember this, you begging for her. “That’s it, mesh’la.” 

You nearly come right then.

Bo-Katan hasn’t spoken in your native tongue in a while now, resisting every time you try to coax it out of her. If letting her let you ride her to orgasm is what finally gets through to her, you’ll never let her live it down. So typical of her arrogant ass.

But that’s something to think about later. Much later when you’re not so close to the brink of devastating pleasure. When you can’t feel how soaked your pants are, can’t see the darkening patch on Bo’s thigh when you look down.

You clinch around her, entire body shaking as you creep closer and closer and closer until Bo pushes your face into the crook of her neck and says on a taunting chuckle, “Such a good girl aren’t you?”

You lose track of your movements, lose track of time and space as you grip onto Bo’s shoulders, her words repeating in your mind. Good girl good girl good girl. 

You grind down once, twice. On the third thrust you cave forward, her arms keeping you safe on her thigh, your vision full of fucking stars. It’s a blinding light so painfully and wholly perfect you almost don’t realize that you’ve bitten down on Bo’s neck until she’s gripping your hair on a hiss and pulling you back.

You stare at each other, chests heaving, and you try to resist the urge to grind down on her again. She smirks, raisies a hand to trace the mark you’ve left on her neck.

“I didn’t tell you to bite me.”

“Poor thing,” you rasp. “Do you want me to kiss it better?” 

It’s a sarcastic response to a sarcastic comment, but it gets you what you want nevertheless. Bo moves her other leg, finally sitting all the way up so she can jerk you across her lap instead of just her thigh. She runs her hands up your sides and places a kiss of her own to the hollow of your throat. Rough and sweet all in one measure.

“Don’t you think Mandalore’s redemption deserves more than just a kiss?”

It was the closest she would ever come to begging, to admitting you were right, and you relish in it, carding your fingers through her short silky hair. “Would a fuck suffice?”

When she carries you into another room where there’s a bed and a shower and more space to play, you wonder if you’ve finally seen the return of one Bo-Katan Kryze.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian season 3 #mando spoilers #bo katan #bo katan kryze #bo katan kryze x reader #bo katan kryze x fem!reader

[dino-fart]

The Princess and Her Galaxy | Chapter 1: Unexpected Visitor

Summary + Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

Pairing: Bo-Katan x Female!Reader x Din Djarin

Genre: Romance, SMUT 18+ Only

Summary: You are a medic who served Bo-Katan and her team. When Bo-Katan lost the darksaber, you stay by her side even when her team left her. Now in Kalevala, the two of you keep each other company, that is until The Mandalorian shows up. 

You walked out of the shared bedroom in a royal blue backless, plunging neck, split thigh dress, and silver high heels. You had your hair open and loose in it’s natural defined wavy texture, your bangs off to the right side of your face. You sauntered over to the throne room and approached the throne from behind. And there she was, your princess, your strong and beloved Bo-Katan...Sound asleep on her throne in her armor, you found it odd that she found the cold stone throne was more comforting than the bed. 

You gently moved to straddle her lap and your hands roamed over her breastplate and up to her shoulders. You began to gently massage her shoulders and gasped when you felt her hands grip your hips quickly. “Mmm, and what are you doing, my love?” She mumbled and slowly opened her eyes. 

“You looked tense, maybe it’s from sleeping on the throne?” You teased. 

“Probably, perhaps my medic should do something about it~” Bo-Katan smirked and slapped your ass. 

You gasped softly and grinned, “Maybe I should but you are too stubborn.” 

“You love that about me.” 

“Do I?” You smirked. 

“Seems like I need to convince you...” Bo-Katan said in a low voice and sat up. Her gloved hands roamed your bare thighs and she dipped her head between your breasts. You moaned softly and ran your fingers through her red hair. She pushed the fabric of the dress that covered your breasts to the side. Your nipples were hard as the cold air hit but you didn’t have long to react before Bo-Katan began to suck on one nipple and groped the other. 

“Fuck, Bo...” You threw your head back and rocked your hips against hers. 

Bo-Katan chucked and pulled back to run her tongue along your breasts and up to your neck. She kissed along your jawline and moved her hand to slip into your panties. “You knew exactly what you were doing coming here in this sexy dress.” Bo-Katan slapped your ass again. 

“I-I need you, Bo...Please...” You begged, rocking your hips faster. Bo-Katan moved her hand from your ass to grip your hair and kissed you roughly. She slipped her tongue in your mouth and danced with your tongue. You groaned and your hands moved frantically to find the clasps of her armor.

She pressed her breastplate against your bare back and nipped your ear. “Bounce on this cock, my star. Show me how much you need me.” She cooed and moved her head to your neck and bit down roughly. You moaned loudly, the sound echoed throughout the roam. You bounced your hips against the strap-on and fucked yourself. Bo-Katan sucked on the bite and chuckled in your ear. “Good girl.” She cooed and turned your head with her hand in your hair and kissed you passionately. 

A few moments later, you were face down, ass up on the throne with your hands gripping the edge of the arm of the throne to keep yourself steady as Bo-Katan thrusted her blue strap-on, that was hooked over her pants, deep inside of you. The fact that she still had her armor on drove you nuts. Yet you on the other hand had your panties off, the skirt of your dress pushed to the side to show off your ass, and the straps of the dress moved off of your breasts completely. You needed to feel her bare skin on yours. “Bo...” You panted and yelped when Bo-Katan’s hand slapped your ass hard. She gripped your hair again to pull your head back. 

When she pulled back from the kiss and smirked seeing your lips red and puffy and tears of pleasure streaming down your face. “My little whore.” She whispered against your lips and moved away from your face. She sat back up and pushed your face down against the stone and her other hand on your hip. She adjusted her hips and began to pound into you mercilessly. 

“FUCK!” You screamed in pleasure and Bo-Katan was getting wet at your moans. 

The entire room was filled with the sounds of the strap-on slapping against your ass. You were close to your orgasm but you knew you couldn’t let yourself be exhausted. You had your princess to serve after all. You came hard on the strap-on but Bo-Katan didn’t stop her thrusts. You were an overstimulated, sobbing mess as Bo-Katan didn’t let up.

In the midst of Bo-Katan fucking you, the footman droid walked into the room. “I am sorry to interrupt, your majesty, but you have a visitor arriving soon.” It said. 

“N-Now? Who is it?” Bo-Katan grunted as she continued to fuck you. 

“I am not sure, but the ship should be landing soon.” The footman droid said. 

Bo-Katan groaned angrily and slowed her movements. “I need to find out what fool is coming here. Then I’ll finish what I started.” Bo-Katan slapped your ass hard. 

You nodded and Bo-Katan gently pulled you up to sit up on the throne. She took off the strap on and tucked it under the blanket that had her helmet on it. You pulled the straps of the dress back over your breasts and grabbed your panties. You stuffed them in Bo-Katan’s pant pocket and kissed her greedily. Bo-Katan smirked and cupped your face as she kissed you. “You can stay if you want, but if you tease me I will punish you.” She smirked. You bit your lip and nodded. Bo-Katan cleaned your legs up with a small towel she had under the blanket which made you wonder if she had planned this...

“Your majesty, your guest is here.” The footman droid announced and stepped to the side as the infamous Mandalorian stood there with the small pod floating next to him. 

“Why are you here?” Bo-Katan snarled. 

You were sitting on your knees on the throne behind her. Your fingers ran through her hair and you looked over at the silver-armored bounty hunter. “I, uh, I’m sorry to interrupt.” The Mandalorian said distracted by your beauty. 

“If you were sorry, you would’ve called.” She glared. 

You leaned close to Bo-Katan’s ear, “My love, what is that?” 

“Hm?” 

“The little creature in the pod.” 

“That’s the little foundling that the Mandalorian refuses to let go.” Bo-Katan smirked at the Mandalorian. 

“His name is Grogu.” The bounty hunter corrected. 

“He’s cute.” You smiled. 

“You’re welcome to come up to him.” The Mandalorian offered.

“Bo, can I?” You asked your princess softly. 

“You may.” Bo-Katan nodded and you kissed her cheek gently. She smiled watching you walk over to the pod. You tickled Grogu’s hands and played with him while Bo-Katan and Mandalorian talked. Toward the end of the conversation, you stopped playing with the child and turned to Bo-Katan. You heard her tell him that she has no interest in going to the Mines of Mandalore. 

You sighed in relief, not wanting to lose the love of your life. You could hear the determination and disappointment in the Mandalorian’s voice. You gave him a small smile, “I wish you luck in your journey and may the force be with you.” 

“Thank you...” The Mandalorian simply said and watched you walk back over to Bo-Katan. His gaze lingering on your form and your beautiful face.

You stood next to the throne and watched as the Mandalorian continued to stand there. Why was he still here? 

Bo-Katan raised a brow at him, thinking the same as you. “Do you still need something, Din Djarin?” She eyed him. 

Din Djarin...So that was his name...

You watched him look at Grogu and then back at the two of you. 

“If your majesty would allow it...I’d like to rest here for the night.” Din asked. 

Bo-Katan turned to you, “Are you alright with that?” 

You smiled kindly at her and moved your hand to gently brush her hair back, “Yes, my love.” Bo-Katan turned her head slightly to kiss the palm of your hand and turned back to the bounty hunter and child. “You leave in the morning.” She said. 

“Thank you.” Din nodded his head. 

Bo-Katan gestured the footman droid to escort him into the depths of the castle where the bedrooms were. You waved goodbye to the two of them and turned to your princess. She was now standing a few inches from you with a big grin on her face. “Looks like we’ll have to be very quiet.” Bo-Katan pulled you close to her by your waist and kissed you tenderly. 

Tagging: @deepbatched​, @vikingqueen28, @leonkennedyslefthand, @stewardofningishzida, @icytrickster17, @onlinecemetery, @marki-moo0, @absolute-not-original, @creamecafe, @scrubb, @nightingal3-tales, @alliethedaydreamer, @strangesthirdeye, @alexa-33, @zombiedixon89, @sunnsettee, @deliciousfestsalad, @kiaradaniell, @freyafriggafrey, @criticalroleobssedperson, @avengersfan25, @lunamoonbby, @androgynouspersonapricotfan, @foxcantswim, @namorkawaiiwife, @starkiller-queen, @kyuupidwrites, @luciamajer, @renatas10, @ayamenimthiriel, @gaiagurl05, @dipsylou, @pinkthick, @hansai, @andywinter16, @iambored24601, @3-cheese-tortellini, @cumbrbatchbenedict, @ironstrange1991, @aribas-stuff, @rianumochi, @vibaracal, @lostpirateinwonderland​, @thealleydog​, @greensabereyesforcevictim​, @persephonehemingway​, @mimikkyu778​, @the-bad-batch​, @jasearney​, @screamsin-gay​, @introvertedmegalomaniac​, @eliaparadiso​, @katzuhkat, @belliedellie​, @jaguarthecat​, @plainwhitegirlll​, @cherrylovescherries​, @riaraccoon​, @98bluecalisky​, @spiritedawayagain​, @struggling-author​, @fuckoffpls00, @snow30285, @ameliadraws​, @v4mpyr3-1791​, @mandosmuse, @littlefatmjolnir12​, @simpsforbuffwomen​, @screaminverito​, @xoxotorii​, @sisgotdemons​, @rhiannon-russo​, @x-bakudeku-x​

#bo katan x reader #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader

[dindjarindiaries]

Security - Chapter 57: Redemption

summary: Din receives his redemption from the covert and finds a way to thank Astra for her companionship and strength.

warnings: non-descriptive sexual content, angst, emotional hurt/comfort, fluff

rating: M

word count: 6.424k

previous ⟸ masterlist ⟹ next

chapter 57: redemption

Din exhales a breath of relief when the familiar planet comes into view. Despite the rather quick trip through hyperspace, every minute spent apart from his family has been torturous. It had been too close of a call back on Kalevala. While Bo-Katan had every right to want to attack the TIE Interceptors for what they did to her home, Din couldn’t stop thinking about Astra and the kids being at the heart of the conflict. He was lucky his pleas worked.

As Din leads their descent onto the planet, he decides to reach out to Bo again via the comms. “I’m bringing us to a Mandalorian covert,” he informs her. “This is how we have survived in exile.”

Bo’s response is flat. “I’m familiar.”

“It’s a secret location and you are our guest,” Din goes on. He aches when he glances back and sees Astra’s empty seat.

“They still live by the old ways,” Bo reminds him.

“Yes,” Din confirms. “It will go smoother if you keep your helmet on. Trust me.”

Bo-Katan scoffs, but Din’s not listening to her any longer. He can hear high-pitched rambling in the background, no doubt the voice of his daughter. His heart does a backflip in his chest just at the thought of her. Being somewhere safe after their tumultuous journey has made Din feel as if he can finally be a proper father again, though he’s certain Astra would scold him for having such a thought. You’re always an incredible father, she would insist. But Zora’s wailing is loud within his haunted mind and all he wants now is to hold her and remind her they’re all safe.

Din lands the N-1 just outside the mouth of the covert’s cave, urging Bo-Katan to do the same with the Gauntlet. He’s quick to open his canopy and stand in his seat to survey the area. Paz’s shadow looms by the cave, but otherwise, the rest of the covert’s chosen to remain hidden for now. Din glances over at the Gauntlet and a weight falls off his armored shoulders when he sees Bo-Katan leading his family down the boarding ramp.

Din all but jumps out of his ship and walks as quickly as his boots can take him over to them. He sets one hand on Astra’s shoulder and the other upon her cheek. “Hey,” he breathes, his voice hushed. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Astra assures him with a smile and a nod. She lifts her hand to cover his. “I’m glad to see that you are, too.”

Din returns her nod. His visor shifts to the closed pod at her side. “And the kids?”

“As happy as ever. I told Grogu to keep the pod closed for now.” Astra takes his hand from her face and laces her fingers with his. She gives the cave a nervous glance, and when Din’s own gaze follows it, he can see more of the covert emerging. “Are you ready for this?”

Din gives her hand a squeeze. “More than I can say.” He keeps Astra’s hand in his even as he steps aside and faces Bo-Katan. “Let me handle this.”

Bo nods, allowing Din to take the lead. The three of them make their way across the sandy shore, the pod following them. The distance between them and the covert closes more and more without the Mandalorians’ grips on their weapons loosening. Frustration starts to boil within Din’s chest as Paz steps forward. “Come no further.” Paz’s voice hides no disgust. “You are an apostate, Din Djarin.”

Din stops and rests his weight on his hip. He’s aware of the way Astra draws herself closer to his side. “No longer.” He nods for further assurance. “I have been to the mines of Mandalore.”

“Impossible.” Paz approaches Din even more. “The mines were collapsed in the Purge. The planet is cursed.”

Din composes himself with a quick breath. He gains the faith to drop Astra’s hand and take one more step forward. “These are lies meant to keep us in exile.”

Paz’s cuirass rises and falls in a heavy breath he doesn’t try to hide. “How do we know that it is not you who is lying?”

“He speaks the truth,” Bo-Katan speaks up. Din turns over his shoulder to look back at her. Her gloved hand rests on Astra’s shoulder as if she’s stopped his wife from making an approach at Paz. Din can’t help chuckling to himself at the thought of it. “We were both witnesses.” She gestures to herself and Astra.

“And who are you, Nite Owl?” Paz inquires.

Bo hesitates with a tilt of her helmet. When she answers, she steps closer to Paz. “I am Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze.”

Paz all but scoffs. “Your House has fallen from the Way. You are both apostates.”

Din’s patience begins to run out, especially with the desperate weight of his family’s weariness behind him. “We have been to the Living Waters.” He lets the Mandalorians whisper amongst themselves as he takes the canister off his belt. He offers it to Paz. “I bring proof.”

Paz considers Din’s words, his helmet tilting as his visor looks Din up-and-down. He starts to back away as he responds. “We shall see.” He stands aside enough to let Din pass through.

Din doesn’t hesitate. He starts to make his way inside the cave, intent on ending this as soon as possible. Astra walks quickly enough to join him at his side once again. Din looks over at her and observes her expression that’s written in frustration and anger of her own. He sets his free hand upon her back and leans close to speak quietly to her. “It’s all right,” he assures her. “Paz doesn’t have the final say. The Armorer will verify this proof.”

Astra’s jaw hardens as she glances back at the blue-armored Mandalorian. “Well, someone’s got to put him in his place,” she mutters.

“While I usually wouldn’t protest,” Din huffs to himself, “we don’t want to make more of a scene right now.”

Astra’s hands tighten into fists at her sides. “That’s the only thing holding me back.”

Despite the tension surrounding them, Din can’t help smiling at his wife’s protective words. He keeps her close as their children’s pod floats on his other side. They lead the way into the Armorer’s makeshift forge, where she stands with her back turned to them as she heats something over the flames. Din and Astra stop with the crowd of Mandalorians at their back. Bo-Katan stands a few steps to their side.

“Din Djarin claims to have bathed in the Living Waters,” Paz announces to the Armorer. Din doesn’t miss the side-eye Astra gives him at his choice of words.

The Armorer doesn’t turn as she responds. “Is this true?”

“It is,” Din assures her. “I have proof.”

The Armorer considers his words as she starts to face him. Din offers the vial of water to her once she reaches for it. As he closes the distance between them to give it to her, Bo-Katan speaks up. “I was witness.” Din keeps his focus on the Armorer as she goes on. “He fell into the depths and I pulled him out.”

“I also was witness,” Astra adds. Din moves back to her side for comfort, both hers as well as his own. “I started to go into the depths, but…” she hesitates, “I wasn’t as well-equipped.”

The Armorer listens and makes her way over to another part of the forge. Tense silence blankets the air as she opens the vial and pours the water out. Din holds his breath and hangs on to every word she has yet to say. Astra shifts her weight at his side.

“He speaks the truth,” the Armorer finally announces. “These are indeed the Living Waters.”

Din exhales and every weight he’s carried ever since Morak goes with his breath. His quest is complete. His vow to the Creed is restored. His family is together, and safe. At long last…

“Din Djarin, you are redeemed,” the Armorer finishes his thought for him. “This is the Way.”

The Mandalorians repeat her words. “This is the Way.”

Din looks over at Astra, who returns his glance with a gaze full of pride and relief she doesn’t bother hiding. “This is the Way,” she whispers just for him. He can’t resist taking a gentle hold on her chin to pull her head to his helmet for a quick Keldabe kiss, despite their audience.

It nearly makes Din miss what the Armorer says next. “And Bo-Katan Kryze, by Creed, you too are redeemed.”

Din and Astra separate fast enough to look over at Bo. He goes still and tries to read their ally, but she’s also gone frozen. “But I do not walk the Way,” Bo reminds the Armorer.

The Armorer starts to approach Bo. “Did you bathe in the waters?”

Bo nods. “I did.”

“And have you removed your helmet since?”

Din and Astra share another glance while Bo pauses. “No, I have not.”

“Then you may join our covert and live as your ancestors once did.” When Bo offers an uncertain tilt of her helmet in response, the Armorer goes on. “You may leave anytime you wish. Until then, you are one of us.” The Armorer nods. “Welcome, Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. This is the Way.”

“This is the Way,” the Mandalorians chorus once again.

“Astra Djarin,” the Armorer addresses Din’s wife. Din watches Astra’s eyes widen as the Mandalorian faces her. “You also entered the waters?”

Astra nods. “As much as I could manage before Bo-Katan stopped me.”

“Then you, too, have become one of us.”

Astra furrows her brow while Din’s chest tightens with an admiration he can’t begin to process. “But I don’t have a helmet, or any armor at that. I didn’t take the Creed.” She shakes her head and shifts her weight, her voice and her gaze lowering. “I’m not a Mandalorian.”

Din wants to gently scold her for saying such a thing, but the Armorer beats him to it. “You took Mandalorian vows the day you wed Din Djarin, did you not?”

Astra looks back up at her, the knit in her brow loosening as she nods.

“You vowed to share all with Din Djarin. That includes his redemption.” The Armorer returns Astra’s nod. “You are one of us. Welcome, Astra of Clan Djarin.” She looks between both Din and Astra as she finishes. “This is the Way.”

The Mandalorians chorus together one last time. “This is the Way.” They all start to approach Din, Astra, and Bo-Katan with celebratory pats on their shoulders, but Din’s not paying any mind to them. He can only look at Astra Djarin, his wife. His Mandalorian wife.

She’s more precious to him than any redemption could ever be. If that’s not something she’s already aware of, he’s going to make sure she knows it.

“There’s no doubt your journey has left you weary,” the Armorer breaks through Din’s short yet sweet reverie. “Paz Vizsla, show Din Djarin’s family to their quarters. I will escort Bo-Katan Kryze.”

Paz nods and turns to Din and Astra. “Follow me,” he directs, his voice low.

Din takes Astra’s hand once again as they follow Paz through the tunnels of the cave the covert’s managed to hide within. It reminds Din of the ones on Nevarro, though these are more spacious. It’s as if they’ve been carved into the stone to support families like Din’s own. It relieves him, even if he wishes to provide his family with something even better. At least they’re starting their new forever somewhere that isn’t inside a ship’s walls.

“Here.” Paz stops at a curtained-off entrance that’s isolated from all the others. “This has been reserved for a family of your size.” He gestures with his gloved hand for them to enter. “Someone will be by shortly with a meal.”

Din nods at Paz. “Thank you,” he says, his voice strained with genuine gratitude. Paz returns his nod before he walks off, leaving Din, Astra, and the pod at their sides. Din turns to his wife and pulls the curtain aside for her. She smiles and presses her hand upon his cuirass as she passes him, stepping inside the space made just for them. Her touch lingers as a ghost of warmth upon his chest as Din follows her inside.

The stone’s been carved into three separate rooms, with a large living space separating the other two along with thick-woven curtains. Lights already illuminate the area amidst the darkness of the cave’s structures. It’s been furnished enough to provide a place for eating meals, and when Din takes a quick look inside both the bedrooms, he sees makeshift beds that put to shame anything they’ve had to sleep on since leaving Mos Espa—aside from Nevarro’s inn.

“It’s like they knew we’d be coming here,” Astra says, an edge of amusement to her voice. Din looks at her and his stomach flutters at the pure joy in her brightened gaze. “I love it.”

Din’s lips start to curl up into a smile. “You do?”

Astra nods and shares her own grin. “I really do. And you know why?” She approaches him and wraps her arms around his waist, resting her chin upon his cuirass. “Because it’s ours.”

Din doesn’t know what to do in his amazement of her. He brings his gloved hands to the sides of her face to at least ground himself somehow, watching as her eyes blink slowly up at him. “It is,” he manages to respond through the sweet lump in his throat. The events of this journey and all the ones that came before it replay in his mind as he goes on. “You deserve this.” He shakes his helmet. “You deserve even more than this.”

“I don’t need more.” Astra turns her head to kiss the leather on one of his gloves before she rests her cheek against his cuirass, her eyes closed in content. “I have everything I need right here.”

Din can’t compose a response to that. All he can do is wrap an arm around her and secure her head in place against him. There’s still much left to discuss about their journey and what’s to come now that it’s over, but in this moment, none of that matters. They’ve accomplished what they set out to do, and now, they have a place with Din’s people—their people—to call home.

It may not be much, but it’s theirs. Without Astra’s loyalty and strength, none of it would’ve been possible. Din’s going to make sure she knows that.

The moment is only broken when the pod suddenly opens. Astra lifts her head from Din’s cuirass and his visor follows her gaze. Grogu coos and points at Zora as if he’s blaming her. Both Din and Astra laugh before their daughter starts to wave her arms around.

“Mama!” Zora exclaims with glee. “Papa!”

Din’s very chest goes aflame when he can finally, at long last, enjoy hearing his daughter call for him and Astra in such a way. Din looks at Astra and she nods at him, beaming. He steps away from her to approach Zora, his smile only widening as he bends down to pick her up. “Hey, Zozo,” Din greets, setting her on his hip and rocking her a few times. She bubbles over with hearty laughter and plays with the lip of his helmet. With no audience other than his family, Din doesn’t try to stop her. “I’m so, so proud of you, baby girl. You’ve been so brave.”

Zora coos and taps her forehead against Din’s helmet. She turns and points at Grogu. “Gogu!”

“You’re right.” Din keeps Zora secured on his hip as he kneels down to Grogu’s height inside the pod. “Grogu was really brave, too.” Din runs a hand over one of Grogu’s ears. “Thank you for all you did, buddy.” Grogu coos with delight as Din nods at him. “You helped to keep your family safe, especially your sister. That’s the best thing a Mandalorian could ever do.”

Din feels a hand on his shoulder and he turns his helmet to look up at Astra. Her gaze is full of the same admiration he feels for her, a wordless representation of what grows more and more in his heart with each passing day. I’m proud of you, too, Din wants to tell her now. You are strong, brave, loyal, beautiful… The list doesn’t end in his mind. But he keeps these words held to his chest for later, when he can use his actions to reinforce them.

Knocks on the stone outside the curtain draw both of them from their reveries. Din stands and hands Zora off to Astra before he walks over and pulls the thick material aside. One of his fellow Mandalorians stands there with a hovercart of food. “A meal for your family before you retire,” he announces.

Din nods and takes the cart from him. “Thank you.”

The Mandalorian nods. “This is the Way,” he says before he turns and walks away.

Din pulls the hovercart inside and secures the curtain back in place. He pushes the cart to the makeshift table and turns to face his family. “All right,” he begins with a smile, “who’s hungry?”

Both Grogu and Zora squeal with delight. Din chuckles while Astra laughs and brings Zora over to the table. Grogu takes it upon himself to flip from the pod onto one of the wooden stools. Din’s about to remove his helmet and sit with them when Astra stops him, her hand wrapped gently around his wrist. “I can get the kids fed and off to bed,” she assures him in a soft voice. “If you want to freshen up and get comfortable,” she gestures to the armor he still wears, “I can fill you in on everything while we eat.”

Din nods. He knows better than to say no to her after everything they’ve just been through. “Sure.” He glances at his children and smiles at their excited faces when Astra starts to set their plates in front of them. “I’ll say goodnight to you two when I’m back. Okay?”

They coo in acknowledgement, though their focus remains on their food. Din huffs to himself with amusement. True warriors know the value of nourishment, and his children are right on track to follow that path.

Din forces himself to leave them and push his way past the curtain that leads to his and Astra’s makeshift bedroom. It’s quite spacious given the circumstances of their living situation, with one bed and another curtain behind which lies their refresher. Din’s still impressed by the way the covert had a place like this prepared for them, especially when he sees the functioning water supply meant for freshening up. Din doesn’t take his time, instead going fast in hopes of being back with his wife and family. He’s spent enough time away from them and he has to make up for it.

The safety of their quarters allows Din to leave his beskar cleaned in the corner of their bedroom and his shirt folded on the bed for Astra. He emerges and finds the living space empty. Din continues on to the bedroom that’s across the way, pulling aside the curtain to find Astra tucking Grogu and Zora into their own little beds. She turns her head to face him as he enters, her gaze brightening as she observes him.

“Looks like that meal was satisfying,” Din says as he sits on the side of Grogu’s bed. Both his eyes as well as his sister’s are only half-open in drowsiness. “Are you two ready to get a full night of rest?”

Grogu and Zora respond with quiet coos of agreement. Din chuckles and pats Grogu’s head. He stands and kneels beside Zora’s bed, bending down and placing a gentle kiss in her tiny curls.

“We love you both very much,” Din assures their children as he stands and extends his hand to Astra. She takes it and lets him help her off Zora’s bed. Her hand laces with his own and she rests her head against him as they make their way back to the living area. Din makes sure the children’s thick curtain is secured to provide them with as much peace and quiet as possible. He exhales a soft breath as he finally focuses on his wife. “If you want to freshen up, I can take our meals into our room. I left my shirt for you.”

Astra beams and nods, her head lifting from Din before he starts to turn towards the hovercart. “Hey.” She draws his attention again before he can focus on his task. Din faces her and lets her take his face between her hands. Astra rests his forehead against hers, the dim lights dancing in her eyes as she smiles at him. “I love you.”

Din can’t help returning her smile. “I love you, too.” He cups her cheek as he draws her in for a kiss, one that’s briefer than he’d like as he forces himself to pull away. “You’ve been taking care of our family very much on this journey. I’d like to do the same for you, now. Okay?”

Astra closes her eyes with relief and nods. “Okay.” Her voice is as light as air.

“That starts with you freshening up.” Din gestures with his head to their bedroom. “I’ll be ready whenever you are.” He kisses her forehead to send her off, his gaze never leaving her until the curtain of their bedroom hides her from view. Din takes a deep breath and smiles to himself. In front of him are the cleaned-up remnants of his children’s meals with them fast asleep in their own room. Meanwhile, his wife’s refreshing herself for an evening they can steal for themselves.

These are all things Din never knew he wanted, and now that he has them, he needs them for good.

Din continues to beam to himself as he takes his and Astra’s meals into the bedroom. His shirt’s since disappeared from the bed into the curtained-off refresher with her. It only feeds the enamored flame within his chest. Din focuses on making the setup neat for her. They’re small details, but she deserves the best. She deserves everything he can offer her, if she’ll take it. But he can’t let it bubble over just yet; The shadow of their upcoming conversation still needs to pass.

Astra emerges with the same quickness Din had shown before. He openly admires her as she takes her belongings and stores them near his beskar. Astra raises an eyebrow at him with an amused grin as she joins him on the bed, sitting with her legs folded just as Din does.

“I hope your stomach is as hungry as your eyes,” Astra jokes.

Din’s face flushes, though he plays it nonchalantly with a shrug. “You can’t blame a man for loving his wife.” He takes a plate in his hand along with a piece of tip-yip that he offers to Astra. She lets him feed it to her. “His Mandalorian wife.”

Astra shakes her head and waits to respond. “That was quite a shock,” she confesses with a chuckle.

“It was well-deserved, and long overdue.” Din feeds her more. He pauses and rearranges the food on the plate. “Especially given everything that happened on this journey.”

Astra takes a deep breath and Din’s pained at the way she visibly deflates. Her gaze starts to avoid him even as she continues letting him feed both her and himself bite-by-bite. “There really isn’t much you don’t already know.” She crosses her arms over herself, her hands hiding within the long sleeves of Din’s shirt. “The droid emerged and I didn’t see what happened because of…” she gestures to her shoulder, “but Grogu was able to tell me that it had injected you with something.”

“I figured as much.” The food has started to go down heavier in Din’s throat. “It was all a blur.”

“Grogu put Zora to sleep to keep her quiet.” Astra’s words become a stream of consciousness that threaten to tear at Din’s very heart. “He led me to the cyborg’s cave. It had you in some kind of trap on a spit.” She exhales a heavy breath. Din reaches forward to take one of her hands in his own and she holds on tight to it. “I was too injured to rescue you myself. I had no choice but to ask Grogu to get to Bo-Katan for help.” Astra looks at Din with worried eyes. “I didn’t want to make him do it.”

“I know.” Din runs his thumb over her hand. “He knows that, too.” Din nods at her. “And he’s safe.”

Astra nods, swallowing hard before she goes on. “Zora and I just stayed and waited for Grogu to return with Bo. I wanted to keep an eye on you. She was asleep for a while, but then she woke up, and…” Astra hesitates.

“She called for me.” Astra looks at Din with disbelief. “That’s one of the only things I remember. I… just wasn’t sure if I had been making it up.”

“She did. She said all our names.” Astra takes a break from retelling the story when Din feeds her again. He knows well how quickly a pit is growing in her stomach and he needs her to be well-nourished. “We kept watching over you. It wasn’t long after that the cyborg stuck those tubes in you, and you were turned on your side, and something started pumping out your blood.” Astra sets her jaw and shakes her head. “I didn’t care about my injury anymore. I attacked.” She gives Din’s hand a squeeze. He returns it. “Thankfully, Bo and Grogu were right behind me.”

“Good.” Din doesn’t allow himself to think of what could’ve happened had they not been there.

“Bo and I fought it together. The cyborg had disarmed you and that’s how Bo got her hands on the Darksaber. She took it out the first time.”

Din’s brow wrinkles. “The first time?”

Astra nods. “It attacked again. You were the one who warned us.”

Din looks down at their hands and shakes his head. “I don’t remember that.”

“That’s all right.” Astra squeezes his hand and continues. “Bo and I fought again, but the cyborg managed to disarm Bo of the saber. It was near me, so I picked it up and I finished the thing off.” She clears her throat and meets Din’s gaze with her usual strength. “That’s really it. Bo helped you get to the place where you woke up. And as for what happened at the Living Waters… you already know.”

“Yeah.” Din takes a deep breath and sets the empty plate of food upon the floor of the room. He runs his free hand over his head. “Astra, I can’t imagine how hard that was for you—how hard it still is for you.” He takes both her hands in his. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Astra shakes her head. “It’s not your fault.” Her words are quiet, but meaningful. “You warned me that this would be a dangerous quest. I knew what I was signing up for by being there.” She smiles and frees one of her hands to brush her knuckles over his cheek. “Look at us now. At long last, you’re redeemed.” Her eyes shine just as bright as before, despite the darkness she just had to share. Din leans into her touch. “I would do it all again to make you feel this happy and free.”

Din composes himself with a soft breath. His heart is already racing at the proposition he hasn’t even made yet. Everything that threatened to overflow earlier is returning now with the sweetest vengeance. “Cyar’ika,” he begins, “ner kar’ta, ner oyay, there isn’t a single thing in this galaxy I wouldn’t do for you.” He wraps his hand around Astra’s wrist to lower her hand from his face. He instead cups the side of her face, his gaze never once leaving hers as he goes on. “I told you I’d make it up to you and that I’d take care of you. Is that something you want?”

Astra lifts her hand to the Mythosaur necklace Din’s decided to leave on tonight. She uses it to gently tug him closer to her, his forehead and nose pressing against her own as she smiles at him with admiration she doesn’t bother hiding. “That’s something I need.”

Din returns her smile and nods. “Okay.” Both his and her own breaths have already started to become heavier in their heavenly haze. “I was forced to be silent for much of our journey. But now…” Din brushes his lips against hers, “I’ll make sure you hear me.”

Astra’s the one who closes the distance between them, letting their smiles and desperate breaths become one in the way they know best. It always feels better like this, when Din’s lips are parted for hers and they’re slowly melting into each other. As Din gently lays Astra down underneath him, she traces each line of muscle upon his back that Din knows she’s come to memorize, as familiar as the scars they both bear for each other. Din is eager to explore her in return, but he takes his time, wanting her to absorb every touch.

Din’s lips break apart from Astra’s as his hands settle on the hem of the shirt she wears. “I know exactly what lies beneath this,” he tells her, his voice as soft as her fingertips that dance over his back. “But you know what, rid’ika?” Din begins to lift the material higher and higher, inch-by-inch, making Astra sigh in sweet desire. “I can never convince myself it’s real.”

Din remains gentle as he finishes removing the material and sets it aside. His hands become tools of reverence, running along every curve and dip with the very same admiration he did the first time he ever saw her like this. Astra pulls him closer in a silent plea for more, but Din doesn’t rush anything. They finally have time on their side and he’s going to take advantage of it.

“I’ve traveled all over the galaxy, cyar’ika, and I’ve had yet to see anything or anyone as beautiful as you.” Din leans close to her again, kissing her and trailing his lips down to the warmth of her neck. “I know I never will.” He stays where he is when Astra’s hand gives his hair a fond tug, letting his work there produce a seraphic song that spills from her swollen lips. “You know that, too, don’t you?” Her only answer is a sweet sigh of his name. Din smiles against her smooth, bruised skin. “You know how your beauty affects me. I don’t try to hide it.”

Din allows one of his hands that had paused at her waist to continue its exploration. The soft dance of her fingers upon his back becomes a desperate grasp for him to be as close to her as possible. Astra hides her face within the refuge of Din’s neck and he welcomes her there, though he longs to see her again.

“You don’t have to hide,” Din assures her. He presses soft kisses to the side of her face and head. “You’re safe here. We’re safe here.” Din leans his forehead against her temple. “I told you that you’d hear me. Let me hear you.”

Astra complies as she lets her head fall back, the beauty of her gaze meeting Din’s own. It becomes a catalyst to the burning fire of desire within himself, along with the way she pushes his name through the beautiful mess of every sound that escapes her.

“There you are,” Din praises her, his lips pressing against her forehead. “Good, cyar’ika. Very good.” He kisses the pleased knit in her brow. “You sound as lovely as you feel.”

Astra’s hands bury themselves into his hair as they urge him to lift his head and face her again. “Din,” she calls for him, a mixture of pleasure and severity. “Please…” she pulls his forehead to hers, “don’t make me wait.”

Din stops and nods, not wasting a moment in complying with her request. “Okay.” He lifts his hands from her to prepare the two of them as best as he can, until they’re both left vulnerable to each other in the dim lighting of their safe haven. Din laces one of his hands with her own, their constant tie to each other in these beautiful moments, and wraps the other around her waist. He returns his forehead to her own and keeps his gaze locked in hers. “Astra.” Din smiles as he goes on. “Astra of Clan Djarin.” He gives her hand a gentle squeeze. “Will you have me?”

Astra wraps herself around him and returns his smile. “I'll have all of you.”

Din grins wider. “Then I won’t hold back.”

Din kisses her and obeys her gentle command, the feeling of her with him more familiar than any place he’s ever called home. Astra’s lips pull away from his as she cries out for him in the sweetest way. Din presses his lips to her cheek as he hums with content.

“That’s it, rid’ika. Leave it all here.” Din swallows past the lump in his own throat that yearns to be freed. “I’m here with you for good.” He presses his forehead to hers and lets a whimper slip in his effort to keep speaking. “I’m right here with you.”

Din continues to follow through with his wife’s command as he gives her everything he has to offer. He lets his words pause only for a moment to share in Astra’s same passionate song, an exchange of breaths and sounds that need no translation. She moves with him every step of the way, her hand kneading his own with reciprocated desire.

“I hope you feel as beautiful as you are,” Din says when he’s able to, his voice now nothing but a soft breath. “Because I… I can feel how beautiful you are. And you are so…” he pauses to free the sounds trapped in his throat, “fucking…” a shaky breath for composure, “beautiful, Astra.”

Astra lifts her hand from the display of art upon his back to touch the side of his face. “And I’m all yours,” she assures him, her voice just as soft and tight in her own struggle. She takes the Mythosuar that hangs from his neck and kisses it. “Forever, riduur.” Astra’s eyes close as she tugs on the necklace, bringing him even closer to her as her body and her voice plead for him. “Oh, Din… ner Din…”

“Ner rid’ika,” Din pleads with her, unable to resist burying himself within her. He listens to her sweet song. “Your loveliness.” He muses on the intensity of their connection. “Your passion.” He growls with delight at the way her fingernails have since returned to his back. “Your strength.” Din starts to become overwhelmed by his pure admiration for her, the woman who vowed herself to him and vice versa. He can’t believe it. Even after all these years, he can’t believe she’s real. “You’re perfect. And you’re mine.”

Din gains the faith to lift his head and face her. Her gaze meets his and Din can feel the galaxy around them stop.

“And I’m yours, Astra.” He leans down to kiss her. “Forever.”

Their kiss is as much the seal of this promise as their actions, a perfect culmination of a love that could never be described by mere words. Din utters whatever praises he can for Astra as they become one in the most beautiful and perfect way possible, both of them eager to remain in this safe haven they’ve created as long as they can. But Din loves to care for his wife, to hold her close and whisper in her ear of how proud he is of her and how much he loves her.

Their chests are still heaving when Astra urges Din to lay beside her. He obeys, his quickened heart softening when she moves on top of him and rests her cheek upon his warm chest. Din secures her there with a hand upon her head, the other running his fingers over her back. They’re safely hidden beneath the sheets of a bed they can call their own, but even in the dim lights of the room, Din can still see the sparkle in his wife’s gaze.

“Din?” Astra calls for him once she’s caught her breath once and for all.

Din smiles to himself. “Yes, cyar’ika?”

Astra traces one of Din’s scars with her finger. “You’re beautiful, too.”

Din’s face flushes and he struggles not to smile wider. “Thank you.”

“Also… we’ve got our hands full with the two children we already have.” She props her head up on her hands to look at him. “Let’s not try too hard for a third just yet.”

Din laughs, nodding as he runs a hand over her head. “Understood, ner kar’ta.”

Astra laughs with him, lifting herself higher only to kiss him once more. She keeps herself close as she whispers to him. “I love you so very much, Din Djarin.”

Din’s gaze couldn’t break away from hers even if he wanted it to. “I love you too, Astra Djarin.”

Astra’s smile melts against his as she kisses him again. She lets her lips linger before she returns to her previous place, her cheek pressed against his chest as her breaths soften. Din only seeks his own rest once he’s sure she’s found hers, his mind never more peaceful than now.

For once, Din doesn’t have to worry about what else is raging in the galaxy. His family has a place to call their own with people who will protect them. At long last, Din is certain that he can keep them safe from whatever the galaxy might try to throw their way, no matter how heavy the Darksaber’s hilt continues to weigh on his belt.

previous ⟸ masterlist ⟹ next

security tag list: @themilkface​ @heyitsjaybird​ @theindiealto​ @maryan028​ @lamnothome​ @taman-a​ @tmnt-would2​ @valeecruz16​ @awesomefandomsunited​ @maajikcrossing​ @notawhitegirlblog​ @mrsparknuts​ @ezraslittleblondestreak​ @hoodedbirdie​ @nerd-without-a-cause​ @daffodin-blog​ @vernon-dursley​ @remmyswritings​ @rintheemolion​ @angelbabymed​ @myguiltypleasures21​ @whats-a-blog-again​ @lv7867​ @salty-sith-bitch​ @lifeisapitch15​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @blackcupidangel​ @irishfaulk97​ @kaelyn-lobrutto24​ @creating-constellations​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @mermaidbrina​ @lanie103​ @elizabethren​ @stardustandkyber​ @t3a-bag​ @dxnxdjarxn​  @orneryscandalousevil​ @simpfordin​ @magicrowiswritingstuff​ @myheart-pedro​ @bewitchedbodyandsol​ @marvelous-glims​ @mostclevermiss​ @peachyaeger​ @mrs-djarin-89​ @murdertoothpick​ @jackiereadsfics​​

all star wars characters: @hugmekenobi​ @themarvelousbee​ @nembees​ @amneris21​@wildmoonflower​ @bombshe77​ @harriedandharassed​ @againstacecilia​ @ladykatakuri​ @bludyl​ @erin-is-sky​ @tanzthompson​​ @murdertoothpick​​ @mandoloriancookie​​

din djarin: @swol-bear​ @notagamersdey​ @les-ingenue​ @booksaremyyoga​ @hp-hogwartsexpress​ @dheet​ @mccn-bcys​ @alwaysdjarin​ @reader-without-a-story​ @cyaredindjarin​ @toobsessedsstuff​ @unofficialavenger90​ @tizylish​ @your-slutty-gf​ @untitledarea​ @pedropascalmyloveee​ @mildlyhopeless​ @lexloon​ @jellybeanstacey0519​ @uwiuwi​​ @lake-145​​ @burningcoffeetimetravel​​ @hello-th3r3​​ @jackiereadsfics​​

↳ add yourself to a taglist here!

#all i'm saying is that astra is a very lucky woman #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin fic #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fanfiction #security #dindjarindiaries

[dindjarinandlysakane]

The Sweetest Taste | Chapter 36 -Home

When Din Djarin meets a beautiful cake seller from Nevarro, do you think he’s just going to stand back and let her suffer at the hands of her abusive boyfriend? After a lifetime of heartache and pain, Lysa Kane realises she’s not on her own any more and finds an unlikely friend in the Mandalorian. And Din Djarin does not like men who treat women like that, not one tiny bit. Friendship/comfort and maybe something more…

Masterlist

Chapter 36 - Home

————

***(This chapter contains NSFW content. 18+)***

It was late by the time Din Djarin set his N-1 Naboo Starfighter down, just twenty feet or so from his small dark cabin, set amongst the lava flats of the Nevarro desert.

Din felt the humidity and heat of the night hit him the moment he jumped down from the ship, a sleeping Grogu nestled sweetly in his arms, where he had been, for practically the entire duration of their journey home.

Chasing down the rogue TIE-fighter had taken a little over a day, with Din’s pulse wave rifle coming in very handy in taking down the ship and its smuggler pilot, leaving them in the capable hands of Bo Katan and the other residents of Mandalore to deal with.

Bo Katan had of course offered him a place to stay for the evening. But she had smiled knowingly as Din had told her he wanted to return to Nevarro promptly, under the obviously-false pretence of ensuring that all was well on the planet he now called home. When the truth of the matter was, all he wanted to do was get home and see Lysa. As if his very life depended on it.

He had been aching for her since he’d left Nevarro just two nights ago. And returning here now, there was only one person on his mind.

Strolling up the steps towards the small house, Din approached the door as it slid open before him.

The cabin was dark, with Din knowing that with the lateness of the hour, Lysa was likely in bed, perhaps asleep.

As he entered into his small home, he made straight for Grogu’s bedroom, noting a fresh and appetising loaf of bread sat upon the dining table, as he passed it.

The door to Grogu’s small sleeper slid open, to reveal his son’s cosy bed, illuminated by the satellite viewport situated above it.

Din placed the still-sleeping Grogu neatly down onto the bed, not bothering with any covers considering the heat, and pressed a button just below the viewport accusing the shutters to slide closed. The room instantly fell into complete darkness. Din hovered for a moment, considering this, before turning and leaving the room.

Back out in the living space, all felt quiet, not a sound being made in the dark-room save for Din’s heart thumping in his chest as he made up his mind on where to go next.

If this had been just a week ago, Din would not have hesitated to remain out here, settling himself on the stiff couch for the night, or perhaps even declining sleep altogether. All to ensure Lysa was not disturbed by him.

But now he wanted to disturb her…and he knew that she would want that too. His mind flitting back to the last words she had said to him before he’d left…

“I need you.”

That was all it had taken for Din to know that she felt as strongly for him as he did for her.

Those three words with so much meaning behind them, the look in her eyes and the way her hand had touched him, filling in the gaps so easily.

And so now, he would no longer linger out here alone, offering her space. Instead he wanted the opposite. To close the gap between them until there was nothing left at all.

And so taking a deep breath, Din placed his hand to the switch, causing the door to his sleeper to side open with a hiss.

Seeing movement, Din blinked as his eyes settled upon the gorgeous figure of Lysa, propping herself up onto her elbows suddenly, her lips parting in a look of surprise at his sudden presence.

Dank Farrik.

She looked utterly mouth-watering. Her long honey-coloured hair, loose and tousled around her shoulders, and her eyes lidded and sultry-looking as she stared back at him.

He noticed at once that she was wearing very little except for a pale white loose blouse, tied low over her breasts, and which seemed to skim down to the very tops of her legs, which were now pressed together, knees hitched up, feet shifting against the sheets below her.

A thin sheen of perspiration seemed to cling to her tanned collarbone now, reflecting against the starlight from the viewport to her left.

To Din she looked like every lustful dream he had ever had all wrapped up in one.

And all that Din Djarin knew at this very moment, was that he wanted her.

------------------------

Lysa pushed herself off of her elbows, coming to sit upright. Staring now at the very familiar figure, standing there in full beskar armour in the doorway to the sleeper.

She had been dozing when she had heard the engines of Din’s ship land outside, and had lay there awake and hopeful. Wondering if the tall Mandalorian would come to see her now…in the quiet of the night.

To anyone else, the sight of a Mandalorian at the end of their bed would have sent fear into the hearts of even the bravest of fellows. But for Lysa there was no worry to be had. No apprehension about what he wanted with her in this late an hour.

Lysa could feel her heart hammering inside her chest, breathing hard, her eyes on him and nothing else.

“I’m glad you're home,” she uttered in a soft voice, feeling her cheeks tinged in the slightest shade of pink as he gazed at her, wolf-like and stoic.

She, all of a sudden, felt quite vulnerable, lying before him in nothing but her single loose undergarment and nothing else.

It had been such a hot night, Lysa was unable to bear anything more, not realising that Din would be back so soon.

“I should take the chair…” murmured Din in a low, husky voice through his modulator, gesturing with his head back towards the living space behind him.

But Lysa gave a small smirk now, lifting her chin slightly.

“This is your bed, Din Djarin, you should take it,” she replied. There was no way after a journey as long as his, she was going to let him sleep out there. She was already a guest in his home, she could easily take the couch if that was what he wanted.

But did he want that?

Lysa felt a pull of nerves in the pit of her stomach.

Had she read the signals wrong?

But Din spoke before she could worry further.

“In that case, would you consider sharing the bed with me again?” he asked in a low, firm voice.

Lysa felt a smile of relief try and tug at her lips, but she played it down, her breath catching in her throat.

She gave a gentle nod.

Din was unmoving for a long moment, his eyes still on her, before she suddenly saw him press his hand to the switch, closing the door behind them.

Shutting out the world.

Leaving the two of them utterly alone now.

Lysa felt her breathing shallow, watching now as Din slowly began to remove each piece of beskar plating one by one.

He had slept in his armour the last night they had spent together in this sleeper. So this was a step that Lysa had hoped for, but never had expected.

It was a slow process and Lysa was still not quite sure what to do. Unsure if he would prefer her to look away.

But as though entranced, she merely sat there, in silence, hearing the hiss of each plate as they were removed, and placed at Din’s feet one by one.

The starlight from the shuttered viewport beside her, seemed to shroud him in a blue shadowed light.

Piece by piece the beskar disappeared, followed swiftly by his boots. Leaving Din looking far less stiff, as he stood there finally in just a dark tunic and black pants.

Lysa’s eyes travelled up and down his lean and tall form, unable to stop her curiosity.

It was the first time Lysa had ever seen him without his armour. And despite her only being dressed in a thin blouse and nothing else, Din might as well have been stood before her naked. The gesture far more intimate than anyone would have realised.

But Lysa did.

She could almost feel Din’s nerves now. Obvious that this was not something the Mandalorian did often, as he stood at the end of the bed, turning to face her once more.

A silence filled the room, as both adults merely gazed at one another, Lysa’s heart hammering inside her ribs.

She wasn't sure what to say, caught completely off guard by the entire situation. She hadn't expected him home tonight, and so the idea of sharing a bed with him after what felt like several long torturous days without him, sent her head spinning.

Lysa’s chest rose and fell, as her green eyes lingered on the last piece of beskar upon his person.

“If you want to take off your helmet I can turn away,” she murmured. Her voice was honest now. She knew that if that was something Din wanted, then she would make sure she would comply.

After his long journey she wanted him to be comfortable. He had been kind enough to let her share his bed, so whatever she could do to not put him out any further, she would do it.

“It doesn’t work like that,” came Din’s sudden reply.

Instantly Lysa felt crestfallen, but her eyes lingered on him for a long moment.

“If you were here alone, you’d take it off to sleep?” she asked gently. Watching as the Mandalorian gave a nod.

“Yes.”

“Then I should sleep out there, on the couch,” Lysa said quickly, with a shake of her head, her tone serious. “You’ve travelled so far, you need rest.”

It was not what she wanted at all. But he was her priority, and she would do what she could to help him.

But Din spoke suddenly, his voice low through his modulator.

“If we close the shutters. Shut out the light then…I could remove it….with you here.”

At his words, Lysa felt her entire body become warm, her breathing becoming suddenly laboured.

She gave a hurried nod, swallowing hard, as she glanced at the button situated just below the viewport.

A nervous energy seemed to pass through her entire body, as with one final glance back to Din, her fingers grazed over the button…

…suddenly plummeting them both into pitch darkness.

Lysa could see nothing now, not even her hand in front of her face as she retracted it from the window. 

Anxiously waiting for Din to join her on the bed, she slid across the mattress slightly to make room. And it was a few moments before she felt him sink down onto the edge of the sleeper…

…and the sudden hiss of a seal being broken. A telltale giveaway that he had removed his helmet, with Lysa hearing the clunk of beskar against the wooden floor boards as he placed it down at his feet.

Lysa felt her heart rate quick even further, hearing him give an audible swallow, as his fingers fumbled at the buttons on his tunic.

It was a strange sensation, being denied any sort of visibility. With Lysa feeling like all her other senses were suddenly heightened. As the sound of Din peeling off his tunic followed, hearing it get dropped to the floor with a resounding whump.

A moment later, she felt the sheets move slightly beneath them, feeling Din shift up the bed, coming to sit facing her…

…with Lysa suddenly aware of the heat of his skin close to hers.

Oh kriff.

She could hear Din’s ragged breaths. The sound faint, but enough to drive Lysa utterly wild. With him sounding as utterly tormented as she felt.

She could feel him now, so so very close, feeling a torturous desperation flood her every pore.

She knew she wanted him badly. Every moment they had shared since meeting had been leading up to this moment.

With her heart racing, Lysa gently tilted her face close to his in the darkness, feeling him do the same. His warm breath suddenly dancing over her soft lips.

She had to stop herself from moaning out, her eyelids fluttering closed as she bathed in the intoxicating feeling of his mouth so very close to hers.

And suddenly, unable to help herself any longer, Lysa reached out a hand, suddenly feeling warm skin beneath her fingers, as she slid her palm over a broad shoulder a mere two inches from her. Far closer than she expected.

At the contact, she heard Din’s breath quicken, her own following suit soon after, as she ran her hand over his shoulder, feeling his muscles tensed beneath her fingers.

Lysa feeling completely drunk on him.

His nose brushing hers…

…followed by his lips. 

Just the lightest graze.

A gesture so gentle and delicate.

Kriff…

Feeling his bare hand reach for the small of her waist, as their lips brushed for a second time.

But at the feeling of his mouth ghosting over hers once more, Lysa couldn't stop herself any longer…

Her hand sliding up to the back of his neck…pulling him into her...kissing him desperately.

And it took less than a second for Din to react to her, giving a gentle groan into her mouth as he parted his lips, his warm tongue finding hers.

His lips were softer than Lysa had expected, having thought on them far more over the past few nights than she would ever tell.

They kissed each other with such need, it was as though they had waited years to get to this point. 

Starved lips lapping at one another, as Lysa let out a pleasurable moan as they separated for a brief moment. Din noisily huffing into her mouth at the sound.

He sounded frustrated, with Lysa sensing that his brow was deeply furrowed, with a need and intention laced over his expression.

Taking a moment to catch her breath, Lysa moved her hand up to the back of his head, her fingers feeling that his hair was tangled and unkempt, but very soft, as she threaded her fingers through the short curls at the very nape of his neck.

After enjoying exploring him for a long few seconds, Lysa reached up with her other hand, instinctively grasping for his jaw as, unable to stop themselves, their lips met again.

Lysa felt a smattering of facial hair running over his chin and up his angular jaw, feeling such an intense emotion coursing through her. Such longing she had never felt for another as long as she lived.

Despite not even seeing his face, Lysa knew that Din was everything that she could have ever wanted. Although deep down she knew he could have been a Bothan and she still would be feeling this way. Din’s actions leading up to this moment telling her all she needed to know about the brave and kind and funny Mandalorian, that brightened her days and warmed her nights.

Suddenly now Lysa felt Din’s hand travel from her waist and up the length of her spine, rumpling her thin undershirt as he went. With her knowing that he could likely feel that she was wearing nothing underneath. As his hand slid down her back once again, tugging her waist towards him powerfully.

Lysa could have moaned out at this possessive gesture.

It was indeed an odd thing, to have spent so long unable to look upon Din’s face, to now be so close to him. To feel his skin pressed to hers, and his face a mere breath away.

Lysa pulled back from him, pressing a sudden kiss to his cheek, before kissing at his jawline, two then three times.

She wanted him to feel her lips against the skin he constantly kept hidden away from others. Wishing him to know how truly wanted he was.

As she kissed him, she felt Din give a groan, letting his head fall back in utter enjoyment of the sensation. 

But he only allowed himself this pleasurable feeling for a small moment…

…his face quickly moving back to hers. His lips catching her own again. His kiss suddenly forceful and wanting.

And at this, Lysa could not help herself, tugging Din down on top of her, as she settled herself back against the pillows behind her.

He moved over her now, with Lysa feeling one of his hands press down against the mattress beside her shoulder, keeping the majority of his weight off her. But his other hand, Lysa felt slide up the outside of her bare thigh, grazing up her skin, hitching up her knee and settling his hips over hers. His erection evident, with his hard length pressing against his pants with intent.

The sensation of him drew a gasp of air from Lysa’s lips. The contact, causing a creamy wetness to pool between her legs. A further step in her arousal flooding her veins.

Their kisses now were meaningful. With both adults knowing now what they wanted. With wet lips parting and meeting again and again. Their wet, delicious noises filled the small sleeper. Growing more and more heated with every second that passed.

And Lysa could only gasp out silently, as Din tugged his lips from hers, pressing kiss after kiss to her neck, and then to her collarbone, before stopping suddenly at the top of her breasts.

Lysa lifted her head a little, feeling him hover before her for a moment, before his hand moved over, grazing the ties at the very top of her blouse.

She knew now that he was almost looking for permission to undress her, with Lysa feeling an intense adoration for the man before her, right at this very moment.

She caught his lips in another kiss, as her fingers fumbled for the ties, helping him to undo them, feeling the covering fall open, revealing her flushed breasts beneath.

It had been a long time since Lysa had experienced such euphoria with another. Basking now in each moment of sexual pleasure Din gave her, no matter how seemingly insignificant.

She felt his thumb ghost over her erect nipple, before his lips met with that exact spot, his hot tongue swirling over it expertly, before his mouth began to inch south once more…

Lysa let her head fall back against the mattress behind her, gasping out at the sensation of Din’s mouth moving down her body. Lips and tongue lazily kissing at her, soothing her burning skin.

It seemed now as though Din was taking his time, enjoying himself, as he kissed lower…

…and lower…

And Lysa could only let out a frown, her mouth dropping open.

“Din-” she murmured breathlessly.

But she was cut off, by the sensation of his tongue suddenly meeting with her core.

She let out a hard moan, feeling all the breath leave her body.

It had been a very, very long time since she had felt such pleasure and it was hard not to collapse over the edge, as his warm tongue began to dance over her.

Did he do this often? Surely she hadn’t been the first person he had removed his helmet for. But Lysa pushed thoughts like these from her mind as she felt him press his flat tongue to her soaked slit and lick oh-so slowly, causing her to moan again, clutching at the sheets beside her with desperate hands. 

But Din’s own hands were set on a different course now, wrapping themselves around both Lysa’s thighs, giving her a sudden sharp tug into him, as his tongue deepened its exploration of her soaking wet entrance.

“Oh…kriff, ” she breathed, feeling Din press a chuckle into her core at her words.

Lysa tried to remember now if she had ever cursed that badly in front of Din before, but her thoughts were clouded by the waves of pure pleasure rippling through her entire body.

Din carried on, flicking his tongue over her, kissing open mouthed…

…until finally Lysa collapsed over the edge, arching her back, feeling an earth-shattering orgasm pulse through her.

“...kriff…Din…oh…ohhhh…”

She cried out, her thighs clenching around his head. Feeling Din’s hands on her hips, holding her steady. Ensuring she was fully spent before his lips left her.

Lysa held onto the moment tightly, riding the pleasurable wave for several long seconds until it was over. Her chest rising and falling raggedly, the white blinding light of her orgasm slowly fading back to the darkness that surrounded them.

Kriff.

It took Lysa a long moment to compose herself, feeling Din begin to kiss his way back up her body slowly, and with purpose.

And despite Lysa having been fully satisfied by Din’s tongue, that did not mean she was ready for any of this to be over… still aching for him. His ability to pleasure her, only serving to show her how much she would be missing if she was to stop now.

She could feel his erection pulsing against her soft thigh as he slid up her body. And as he reached her, she kissed him again, tasting herself, sweet, like honey, on his tongue.

His hard body moved over hers, and as her hands met with his broad shoulders, Lysa could feel him trembling beneath her grasp.

She pulled away for the briefest of seconds at this, wishing she could see him now in the darkness. Her green eyes still trying to search for his.

She wondered what colour they were, trying to picture him in his entirety, but knew it would be wrong to ask such a question in a moment like this.

Instead she lifted a hand running her thumb over his bottom lip, before kissing him again.

Din’s gave a hungry groan into her mouth, as he pressed himself into her, his kisses becoming intense, his tongue massaging hers keenly.

Meanwhile Lysa slid her hand down between them quickly. And, reaching Din’s pants, she hurriedly began undoing his buttons, as Din shifted a little. Helping to remove the tough material from his legs, until they were hastily shoved to the floor.

Lysa tore her lips from his, breathing hard, as Din hovered for a moment before repositioning himself over her. Her thighs sliding up around him, his stiff length pulsating against her soft thigh, so close to where she needed him now.

But pressing his hand flat to the mattress beside her head, Din held off a little.

Lysa licked at her lips, moving her hand into the space between them, brushing her fingers over his length.

But all of a sudden Din grabbed her wrist gently, stopping her in her tracks.

“Stop.”

Lysa gave a swallow, at the sound of his voice, so clear to her now without the modulator.

But he sounded concerned.

“Are you sure you want this?” he continued. Lysa could almost hear that he was frowning now.

But Lysa merely kissed him again, her lips pressing against his gently, in a reassuring gesture, before pulling away after a long few seconds.

She lifted her hand to his jaw, her fingers sliding over his stubble-lined cheek.

“I do…” she replied in a soft tone, before feeling suddenly nervous. “...d-do you?”

She worried now that Din had changed his mind, her cheeks immediately flushing pink.

But to her relief, Din spoke again a second later, his voice firm.

“Yes. I want this. More than anything,” he said, his voice filled with an honesty he so so often carried with him.

She heard him swallow hard.

“...but it’s been a long time since I’ve-”

Din suddenly stopped mid-sentence.

Lysa felt a wave of realisation suddenly wash over her. Understanding now what Din was trying to tell her

“I just…I might not last that-”

“It’s ok,” said Lysa quickly, cutting across him.

He didn't have to tell her. To her it was not an issue. All she wanted was for Din to enjoy a pleasure so pure, akin to the one he had just given to her.

“It’s ok, really,” she reiterated, before kissing him again. Both of them instantly deepening that kiss, tongues lapping at one another. Lips meeting and parting in a heated dance as Lysa felt Din grind his hips into hers suddenly.

She gave a moan, feeling his length slide over her aching clit teasingly, gliding through her soaking wet lips.

Immediately Din let out a grunt at the sensation.

Kriff, that felt good.

He pulled back, rutting against her again.

There was no penetration now, but from the sounds being emitted from Din’s lips, Lysa knew he was enjoying the teasing feeling of his erection gliding through the creamy slick of her orgasm so easily.

Though Lysa wasn't faring much better, for the sensation of Din’s hard cock slipping over her clit over and over, was causing that knot to tighten within her lower belly once more.

“Dank farrik, that feels…” Din huffed, but he trailed off, grunting once more, between ragged breaths.

Their pace building.

“Din…”

“Dank farrik…”

Neither of them making any sense with the jumble of illicit sounds being emitted from their mouths.

Din huffed out a hard breath, with Lysa knowing that if they carried on with this teasing, she would no longer be able to hold on.

“Stop, stop…” she breathed out, pressing a hand to Din’s broad chest.

Lysa could feel his heart thudding in his chest. Feel his breathing ragged.

She knew that, like her, Din was barely holding it together.

And that was not how she wanted this to end…

And so, wetting her lips audibly with her tongue, she moved her mouth to his ear, feeling him shudder at the contact of her lips against his earlobe.

And a moment later, Lysa uttered five words, that, although she didn’t realise it, would cause something to snap within Din Djarin. A burning need for her, that he had never felt for anyone as long as he had lived, igniting. 

“I need you inside me,” was all that Lysa Kane managed to breathe, before Din’s lips were on hers, his free hand grasping at her upper thigh, his fingers pressing into her flesh lightly as he urged her thighs apart for him.

A moment later she felt that same hand slip down between them. And feeling him take his length within his grasp, she hitched in a breath, as she felt him press the tip of his swollen cock to her soaked entrance.

Lysa immediately gripped at his taught bicep with one hand as her other hand slid up to his neck. As Din’s length, already sodden with her juices, slid into her, filling her up entirely.

Lysa sucked in out a shaky gasp at the sensation, as Din gave a hard groan, huffing a breath into the space between her neck and shoulder, his bicep flexing and trembling beneath her grasp.

They both lay there for a moment, both adjusting to the position and the feel of each other, as Din pressed his lips to Lysa’s neck sucking on her skin. Before pulling back and finding her mouth…warm and welcoming…

…as he drew his hips back and then buried himself deeply in her once more…

Lysa’s mouth dropped open, giving a moan into Din’s mouth at the feeling of him sinking into her, her fingers tugging at his hair…

…which only seemed to spur him on further, feeling him slowly begin to set a pace, pounding his length rhythmically into her soaking entrance again and again and again.

Kriff.

Lysa felt like she was quickly losing control, hitching her leg up over his hip, her fingernails raking over his back greedily, as she kissed at him, moaning as she went.

Din let out a low growl, which seemed to rumble through his broad chest.

Everything around them disappearing. Leaving only Din and Lysa. Almost fused into one.

They pulled back from one another, as though in sync, foreheads pressed together, sweat beading over their bodies, as they moved against one another.

Lysa could hear his grunts and groans, coming quicker and quicker.

With her feeling her own bliss rippling, like a tide edging into the bay.

She moved her hand to Din’s jaw, her thumb running over his bottom lip as she drew his mouth to hers. But they did not kiss.

Merely huffing moans and grunts into each other's mouths, Din’s lips, slick and swollen.

His hips snapped into her several times more, before his thrusts started to become far more harsh.

Lysa felt the spring in her abdomen begin to coil tightly, as her eyes fluttered closed, her fingers slipping down Din’s shoulder, pressing into his flesh letting him know that she was close, without words needing to be spoken.

She let out a moan dropping her head back against the pillows, her spine arching slightly, as above her Din dropped his lips to her throat.

Kriff, she was close…

Kriiiifff…

Din’s pressed a long open-mouthed kiss to a spot just below her jaw, as she felt his thrusts become suddenly sloppy, and uneven, delivering one final snap of his hips which splintered through Lysa like a bolt of lightning.

She cried out hard, fingernails scraping over flesh, her thighs trembling, the walls of her soaked slit convulsing, sending a ripples coursing through her entire body over and over again.

And feeling her clench around his soaked cock, Din gave a sudden drawn-out groan of his own, his arm pressed taught against the mattress becoming suddenly rigid. His head dropping to her shoulder.

“Dank farrik, I-“ 

But Din found himself rendered mute, crashing into his own pulsating orgasm. Lysa feeling him spill himself inside her, triggered by her own earth-shattering climax.

And like that they stayed, both breathing hard, with Lysa’s thighs and Din’s arms shaking. Both lying there, utterly spent, for a long minute.

Lysa wanted to sink into this moment and never leave. Riding the high of her blissful comedown, feeling Din start to shift against her, his lips finding her neck, pressing a gentle kiss to her burning skin.

She let out a gentle exhale, feeling Din’s heart rate begin to finally steady, his chest still flush to hers. Running her hand slowly up, tangling her fingers in his damp hair, she drew his face to her own.

Despite it being dark, Lysa knew now that he was staring at her. A longing still between them, despite what they had just done.

“I’m glad you came home,” Lysa whispered, her nose grazing against his gently. Ending this just how they had started it.

A second later, she heard Din let out a hard yet satisfied-sounding huff.

“I am too,” he replied, his lips ghosting over hers, before taking her in another kiss. 

His lips moved against hers gently, as she reacted in turn, smiling into his mouth.

They broke apart after a long and enjoyable few seconds, as she felt Din separate himself from her, and collapse down onto the mattress at her side, shifting onto his back.

He gave a groan, before reaching out an arm, in the darkness, sliding it around Lysa’s shoulders. And with another contented smile, feeling utterly exhausted, Lysa settled herself against him. Coming to rest her head on Din’s bare shoulder, pressing her free hand to his chest, as Din’s tugged her close.

There was so much she wanted to say but for some reason no words seemed to come…

…as Lysa felt sleep begin to wash over her…

…slipping into a comfortable dreamworld as Din did the same. Both of them wrapped up in one another, basking in the afterglow of their union. 

Both happy. 

Both content.

Both happy to be back with one another once more.

--------

Ok so what did you think? I really hope someone out there likes it.

I'm all about the angst and fluff, so writing smut makes me worry I'm totally off my game. So hope that was ok!

@its5-15wakeup @thecraftyartist @crazypaine @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @marysucks-blog @siimiasoi @livinxdeadxgrl @midwesternwitchery @the-divine-taurus @handspunyarns

#the mandalorian #din x oc #pedro pascal #din djarin #din smut #din djarin masterlist #mando #mando fic #din Grogu #Mando smut #star wars

[wanderingjedi77]

The Armorer x Fem!Reader x Bo Katan (Always)

Summary: Things on Mandalore are changing, but your happy to be by their side. Sequel to House of Three.

You sigh into the arms of Bo as she sits on her throne, tilting your head back as she holds you close. You hadn't had much time for this, you realise. Cuddling with your now Mand'alor. Ever since Mandalore had been taken both, both her and the Armorer had been busy.

Bo with ruling and The Armorer with fixing the great forge with care.

That wasn't to say that you weren't busy keeping track of the foundlings and trying to establish a school. You had picked the perfect spot for it, too. Overlooking the water on what you hoped would soon be a grassy hill.

And, you thought blissfully. You were married.

It had been a small ceremony, with Din and Paz residing. Grogu and Ragnar. It was nice, simple. You felt more complete than you had in ages as you recited the vows. You felt like your heart couldn't get any fuller.

"What are you thinking about?" Bo mummers from behind you. For now, it was just the two of you in her throne room.

"Us. The future that we are building." You reply softly. You turn to kiss her arms tighten around your waist as the doors open and then shut gently. The heavy footsteps tell you it's the Armorer, and your thoughts are confirmed when you hear her helmet come off and her hands settle on your shoulders, kneading the stress away.

"Hello cyar'ika." The Armorer greets softly. "Have you both started without me? That's rather rude, you know."

You break away from Bo to give her an annoyed look, though your not really mad. "And you like to tell me what to do."

"Don't act like you don't enjoy it." The Armorer replies lowly. You sighed and tilted your head against her armored chest, and the Armorer laughed. "Good girl."

Bo watched, leaning back on her throne. "You know, sometimes I think you two do this on purpose."

"Never my Mand'alor." The Armorer replies and leans over you to give Bo a quick kiss. They smile at each other when they pull away, and you relax.

"I was wondering something?" You pipe up. They both look at you, the Armorer dropping her hands from your shoulders as she moves to sit on the arm of Bo's throne.

"Yes?" Bo replies, reaching out to hold your hand.

"How do you feel about kids? Because there's this orphaned foundling..." You trail off, embarrassed. Was it too soon? You had only taken back Mandalore recently, you thought. What if they didn't want children?

"I've thought about it." The Armorer admitted, "Bo?"

"So have I. I need an heir." Bo smirks at you and puts a hand on your stomach. Thinking about what you would look like with a child in your belly. "There are a few ways we can have a child, I'm sure. Adopting a foundling is a good step." She agrees. "But if it's agreeable? Would you be willing to carry a baby?"

Your mouth goes dry. "I... maybe?" You squeek. You bite your lip and look at both of them. "But I just wanted to know if you would want children. We never discussed it before."

"No. But we have a lot of clan building to do." Bo teases. "I'm fine with little ones running around."

"As am I." The Armorer leans down to kiss you, and you feel Bo put her hands around you, keeping you in place.

"Glad we've got that figured out." You pull away, breathless. "Thank you. It means a lot." You tell them, happy.

"Anything for you, sweet girl." Bo replies softly. "But there are a few other things we should taken care of?" Bo suggests and you glance at the Armorer.

"Like what?" You ask softly. You had built a home and were now planning a family. What else was there to complete?

"Why don't you let us show you." The Armorer smirks at you. "Can you be patient for just one moment?" She slips off the throne and walks toward the doors, slipping on her helmet. "Make sure she listens Bo."

You look at Bo, and she grins.

"What?" You ask. "Is going on?"

"Patience." Bo replies.

"But-"

Bo frowns. "Don't disobey an order, sweet girl." You sigh in response, and wait.

Patience is a virtue, after all. And whatever they have planned next will surely be worth it.

#star wars #the mandalorian #bo katan kryze #star wars mandalorian #the armorer #star wars the mandalorian season 3 #nitearmor #bo katan x the armorer #bo katan x reader #bo katan x female reader #the armorer x fem!reader #the armorer x reader #the armorer x bo katan x fem!reader #the armorer x bo katan x reader #anon request

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Forty-One)

Summary: The scouting team, made up of Mandalorians from both tribes, lands on Mandalore and begins to explore its surface, but they soon end up encountering an old enemy and uncovering a villainous plot.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 6.5k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: Yeah, the ending on this chapter’s gonna be pretty rough so buckle in! Thank you for reading, I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Forty-One The Trap (Previous Chapter)

All through the morning, (Y/N) kept herself busy by helping the Mandalorian mercenaries tune the engines of their starfighters and load supplies onto the light cruiser, and although they were grueling tasks for a sleep-deprived woman to complete, they worked to distract her from the feeling of foreboding that stubbornly persisted from the night before. The moment that she boarded the Gauntlet alongside Din and Grogu, however, there was nothing to divert her attention away from the inexplicable anxiety weighing on her mind; she didn’t have the N-1 to pilot or even her sewing supplies to keep herself busy, and there were only so many times that she could disassemble and clean her already spotless blaster. You’re just thinking about all the bad experiences we went through the last time we were on Mandalore, she reminded herself as the heel of her boot continued to tap against the floor and her fingers fiddled with a loose thread dangling off the hem of her coat’s sleeve, wishing that she could give in and forget about the ominous sensation filling the pit of her stomach.

“No.”

(Y/N) shook herself out of her reverie and a smile played on her lips when she saw IG-12 standing in front of her seat. “Hey, little guy. Whatcha mean, ‘No?’” Grogu cooed and operated the droid’s hand to take hold of hers and gently guide it away from the loose thread, making (Y/N) chuckle and look back up at the child with pride. “That’s right: pulling the thread will only cause more damage to the garment’s stitching. You’d make quite the seamstress’ apprentice, Grogu.”

He giggled when she tickled the patch of skin beneath his chin and pressed a clawed hand against one of the console’s button. “Yes.”

“We’re coming out of hyperspace,” Din announced, walking up to the pair and tilting his helmeted head to the side as he considered them. “Are you ready, alor’ad?”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to reply, but Grogu and his vocabulators beat her to it. “Yes.”

The Mandalorian heaved a weary sigh and shook his head in exasperation. “Yeah, I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that.”

“It’s beginning to grow on me but I won’t lie, that meiloorun incident wasn’t exactly a glowing endorsement of Greef’s…generous gift.” Standing, (Y/N) rolled her coat’s sleeves up and patted her husband’s beskar-clad chest. “Now, let’s go and reclaim your people’s home.”

Din leaned down to connect their foreheads in a brief but meaningful Keldabe Kiss and while (Y/N) forced herself to pull away from his comforting touch, she could hear Bo-Katan call into the starfighter’s communication radio, “Scouting party descending to surface.” As she piloted the Gauntlet down through the tempestuous upper atmosphere of Mandalore, the Nite Owl spared the trio a brief glance over her shoulder. “We’ll lose comms shortly.”

“I’ll go and check on our drop troops,” Din volunteered and gave (Y/N)’s hand a brief squeeze before turning and disappearing into the starfighter’s bomb bay.

“I wish you could’ve seen Mandalore before the Purge.” (Y/N) tore her eyes away from the bomb bay door to look at Bo-Katan, whose grip was tight on the controls as she piloted the Gauntlet out of the raging storms that encased her homeworld. “The songs that were written could hardly do its beauty justice.” The Nite Owl cleared her throat and gave her head a small shake. “And now, I can hardly recognize my own home.”

(Y/N) hesitated a moment before reaching out and giving the unarmored section of Bo-Katan’s shoulder a comforting pat. “It’ll take time, of course, and nothing can ever live up to your memories of your old home, but under your leadership, Mandalore will become a hospitable planet again. You’re all Mandalorians, Bo, and Mandalorians never give up without a fight.” Her lips curved into a small smile. “This is the Way.”

Bo-Katan’s expression brightened with a smile of her own as she nodded once. “This is the Way.”

The bomb bay door slid open and Din stepped through to stand beside (Y/N). “They’re ready.”

“Secure infil zone.” Bo-Katan flipped a switch and a moment later, the sound of the drop troops launching into their free-fall filled the cockpit. “And now we wait…”

(Y/N) peered down at the planet’s crystalized surface and watched the tiny beskar-clad figures survey their charted landing zone with bated breath, the tension leaving her shoulders when the voice of Axe Woves came through the starfighter’s communication radio. “Gauntlet, landing zone secure.”

The Nite Owl engaged the landing sequence and when the starfighter touched down onto the barren stretch of land, (Y/N) accompanied Din and Grogu as they followed Bo-Katan and the Armorer down the ramp. A series of panicked beeps forced her to glance back and watch R5-D4 roll after them; the astromech droid, despite his less-than-happy memories of Mandalore, was too afraid to stay behind on the Gauntlet and despite Din’s grumbling, she gave him a commlink and told him to contact them the moment he needed any assistance. All of the Mandalorians that made up the scouting party wore their beskar helmets, but the stiffness in their stances and the way they gripped their blasters told (Y/N) that being on their people’s ancestral planet was making them uneasy.

“Somewhere below is where our ancestral capital once stood.” Bo-Katan’s gloved hand held tight to her helmet as she addressed the scouting party. “We’ll survey the surface until we find the Forge and create a safety zone. Only then will we begin to bring down the settlers.” (Y/N) gave Bo-Katan an encouraging nod and the Nite Owl pointed towards the horizon. “We’ll start scouting in that direction.” She strode through their group and slipped on her helmet before calling out, “Form up!”

The Mandalorians followed her command and filed after her, leaving Din and (Y/N) walking at the back alongside Grogu and the Armorer. They hadn’t made it far when a low rumble joined the thundering high above them and the crystalized ground began to shake with deep tremors; (Y/N) hovered her hand over the hilt of her blaster as Din pointed towards the distance. “There, on the horizon.”

A cloud of dust and debris had formed in the distance and was only growing larger as it neared them and when the shape of a massive langskib became visible, (Y/N) and Din drew their blasters while Bo-Katan and the Mandalorian mercenaries lowered their helmet’s rangefinders in synchronization. “Nite Owls.”

“Flanking left,” Axe called, moving into a defensive formation alongside his fellow Mandalorians and crouching behind the rock formations that emerged from the crystalized surface.

Din held a gloved hand out to keep Grogu behind them and (Y/N) spared the concerned child a brief smile. “Everything’s gonna be okay, little guy, don’t worry.” She returned her focus to the langskib and tightened her grip on her blaster as the craft slowed to a stop. “If they’re not friendly, then we’ll handle them.”

The tension-filled silence that filled the clearing was finally broken by a man’s voice emanating from the deck of the langskib. “Do you have food?”

“We do,” Bo-Katan called back, lifting her rangefinder while the rest of the scouting party continued to hold their weapons at the ready.

“You wear the crest of the Nite Owls?”

Bo-Katan seemed taken aback by the man’s pointed question. “I should hope so.”

Out of the corner of her eye, (Y/N) saw the Armorer take a curious step forward. “They’re Mandalorians.”

(Y/N) exchanged a look of surprise with Din and murmured, “Mandalorians have been living here since the Purge?”

Her husband wordlessly shook his head as another man’s voice called out, “Is that the voice of Lady Bo-Katan Kryze?”

“…It is.”

Immediately, three Mandalorians flew down from the towering langskib and gracefully landed in front of them; the Nite Owl signaled to them to hold their fire, but several members of their scouting party had already lowered their blasters by the time the Mandalorians removed their helmets and bowed their heads in respect. “We knew you would not forsake us, Lady Bo-Katan,” The first Mandalorian humbly spoke. “We have failed you, but our blasters remain in your service.”

The rest of their scouting party slowly relaxed and holstered their weapons as they lowly talked amongst themselves about their new discovery, but (Y/N) carefully watched Bo-Katan and took note of the unusual caginess in her posture; perhaps there’s something that she hasn’t told anyone about the day Mandalore was decimated by the Empire, she thought to herself, a troubled frown forming on her face while she followed Din, Grogu and the rest of the Mandalorians as they trekked to the well-worn langskib in the distance.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“They intercepted any ships they saw leaving…” The former Mandalorian captain explained later that evening, after they’d welcomed their unexpected guests onto their langskib with a meager but much-appreciated meal. (Y/N) was seated between Grogu and Paz Vizsla at the long table extended across the upper deck, tearing strips of salted meat into pieces and handing them one at a time to the child while she listened to the Mandalorian’s story with rapt attention. “They took no prisoners. They bombed every surface twice-over. They punished us as a warning to the whole galaxy, because we refused to surrender.”

“That’s not true.” Everyone seated at the table looked to its head and saw the shadow of guilt that graced Bo-Katan’s features. “I did surrender.” (Y/N)’s heart sank as the Mandalorian survivors began to murmur amongst themselves and when Koska opened her mouth to defend her old friend, Bo-Katan gestured for her to stand down and swallowed thickly before continuing. “After our forces were annihilated in the Night of a Thousand Tears and defeat was imminent, I met with Moff Gideon. The ISB had reached out to me to negotiate a cease-fire; in exchange for submitting to the Empire and disarming, all remaining cities and Mandalorian lives were to be spared.” The Nite Owl looked down at the scuffed surface of the table to avoid the gazes fixed on her. “This is how Moff Gideon came to possess the Darksaber. I didn’t trust him, but it was the only chance I had to save our people.” Grogu let out a sad coo and (Y/N) rested a hand on his small back for comfort. “And then, he betrayed me and we were helpless to resist the Purge of Mandalore.”

The Mandalorian scout took in Bo-Katan’s explanation and looked across the table at Din, Paz and the Armorer. “How did these others survive?”

“We were hidden on the moon of Concordia,” The Armorer explained and Din nodded in confirmation.

The former captain’s brow furrowed in distrust. “Are you Death Watch?”

“Death Watch exists no longer. It shattered into many warring factions.”

Bo-Katan struggled to keep her emotions in check as she addressed the Mandalorians seated around her. “Our people have suffered time and again, from division and squabbling factions. Mandalore has always been too powerful for any enemy to defeat; it is always our own division that destroys us.”

While everyone seated around the table took in her regret-filled words, Bo-Katan quietly stood and crossed the deck to stand at the langskib’s bow, leaving the gathering of Mandalorians to awkwardly converse with one another as they finished up their meal. The mercenaries and the covert members volunteered to help nurse some of the surviving Mandalorians back to health and since she knew that they’d have a long day ahead of them in the morning, (Y/N) coaxed Grogu out of the IG-12 suit and worked on rocking the stubborn child to sleep while Din absentmindedly rubbed his thumb across the back of his wrinkled head.

“Hearing what really happened after the Night of a Thousand Tears…what Bo-Katan was forced to do, only for Moff Gideon to betray her and initiate the Purge…” Din shook his helmeted head and quietly sighed. “I can’t imagine being put in that position and living all those years with the weight of the consequences on my mind.”

(Y/N) waited until Grogu’s eyelids finally stayed closed to look up at her husband and whisper, “Bo’s had a pretty rough start to this scouting expedition; if I was her, I could really do with a few words of understanding right about now.”

She tilted her head towards the bow of the langskib and after a brief moment of hesitation, Din nodded once and slowly approached the morose Nite Owl, pausing only to affectionately bump his forehead against hers; as Din slowly approached Bo-Katan, who was looking out at the desolate wasteland that had once been her home, (Y/N) perched herself on the edge of a nearby cargo box and listened in on the Mandalorian’s modulated statement. “I had no idea. We were taught that everyone but us had forsaken the Way, that you were selfish and uncaring. Now, I understand.”

“You were right.” The Nite Owl’s back was to them both, but (Y/N) didn’t need to see her face to detect the pain that laced her every word. “I was selfish, and this is what it wrought.”

Din glanced over his shoulder and when (Y/N) flashed him a small smile of encouragement, he turned back around and took a step forward. “We’ll rebuild it. Isn’t that our history? For thousands of years, we have been on the verge of extinction and for thousands of years, we have survived.”

Bo-Katan whirled around to face him, her swirling emotions finally getting the better of her. “I don’t know if I can keep everyone together. There’s too much animosity, and this blade-” She reached for the hilt of the Darksaber fastened to her utility belt. “-is all I have to unify our people.”

“I only know of this weapon what you taught me. To be honest, it means nothing to me or my people, nor does station or bloodline; why do you think they’ve so readily accepted my riduur and our foundling into the covert? What matters more to me is honor. And loyalty, and character. These are the reasons I serve you, Lady Kryze.” Bo-Katan looked up at Din, and the cautious hopefulness that glistened in her eyes made (Y/N)’s heart clench in sympathy for all the hardships she’d endured since the Clone Wars. “Your song is not yet written…” The Mandalorian held his clenched fist against his chest as a mark of respect and bowed his helmeted head. “I will serve you until it is.”

(Y/N)’s heart swelled with pride for her husband and as he made his way over to where she sat, she watched Bo-Katan take a steadying breath before crossing the deck to join the other Mandalorians, her confidence returning with every sure-footed step she took. “I know that you never truly had any interest in leading the Mandalorians, sweetheart, but believe me, you would’ve made one hell of a leader.”

Taking a seat on the cargo box beside her, Din took a sleeping Grogu from her and cradled him against his beskar-covered chest with one arm while wrapping the other around her waist. “With you by my side, it would’ve been a slice of uj’alayi; any leader would be lucky to have an advisor and confidant only as half as skilled as you, alor’ad.” Instead of answering, (Y/N) pressed a soft kiss onto the beskar covering her husband’s mouth and leaned against him, the both of them listening in as Bo-Katan’s insecurities gave way to her natural leadership skills.

“We’ll rest tonight and continue at first light.”

“These here are too weak to continue,” The Armorer countered and gestured towards the cots occupied by the injured and sick Mandalorian survivors. “We must return to the Gauntlet, and I will ferry them back to the fleet in the morning.”

Bo-Katan nodded. “Agreed.” She looked over at the former Mandalorian captain, who was preoccupied with treating an unconscious warrior at a nearby cot and only looked away when the Nite Owl addressed him. “Captain? Those of you who are well enough can join us in the search for the Great Forge.”

“We can do better than that.” The ghost of a smile formed on the former captain’s lips. “We can bring you there.”

Although (Y/N) should’ve been thrilled that their scouting expedition was receiving substantial aid from a group of loyal and honorable Mandalorians, the only thing that she could focus on while she and Din drifted off to sleep later that night was the resurgence of the foreboding weight in the pit of her stomach.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning – much like the morning before on Nevarro – was filled with a flurry of activity, with the Armorer piloting the sick and injured Mandalorian survivors up to where their fleet was located in Mandalore’s orbit in the Gauntlet and the langskib making its way across the planet’s crystalized surface towards the Great Forge. Unlike the previous morning, (Y/N) found herself putting her uneasiness aside as she busied herself with repairing tears in the langskib’s sails and braiding new lines of rope. The work was challenging and far from the sort of work that a former seamstress was used to, but (Y/N) was happy to share her knowledge with the Mandalorians and offer them assistance; she was able to dabble in her old trade and as a bonus, she found a task that kept her lingering worry off her mind. Maybe I should consider expanding the services I’ll offer when I open my shop someday, she thought with a tranquil smile and continued to expertly weave the bundles of fibers together with skilled fingers.

The sound of a scuffle breaking out was enough to shatter (Y/N)’s concentration, and she looked up from her complex work to see Paz and Axe engaged in a vicious duel on the lower deck. “Oh, for Maker’s sake…” Setting her half-finished rope down, (Y/N) got up and moved to stand between Din and Bo-Katan at the railing with a weary sigh. “I’d like to say that I’m surprised, but what’s the point in lying?”

Din nodded in agreement and looked over at the Nite Owl. “Should I step in?”

“Neither side can stop it,” Bo-Katan explained, but her brow was furrowed in concern as she watched the Mandalorian men struggle over a vibroblade. “Like the Captain said, it was bound to happen sooner or later.”

(Y/N) pursed her lips as Axe held back Paz’s vibroblade and the larger Mandalorian knocked him onto the ground, and she winced when the mercenary activated his jetpack and used his locked arms to trip Paz, taking advantage of the distraction to scoop up the vibroblade before they both staggered to their feet. The other Mandalorians wore matching looks of exasperation while they watched both men continue their fight but just when (Y/N) was preparing to return to her rope braiding, she spotted Grogu approaching the fighters in his IG-12 suit and her heart nearly stopped at the sight. Before either she or Din could say or do anything, the child stepped directly between the charging Mandalorians and held them both apart with the droid’s strong arms.

“No. No. No. No. No. No. No.” Grogu pressed the vocabulator’s button over and over, only stopping when Paz and Axe stood down and walked away from one another.

“You taught your apprentice well,” Bo-Katan remarked with the barest hint of a smile.

Din merely shrugged his armored shoulders. “He didn’t learn that from me.” (Y/N)’s face warmed at her husband’s sweet reply and after giving his pauldron a brief kiss, she shot Grogu a proud wink and stifled a giggle when he promptly nodded back.

A sharp whistle was quickly followed up with a shout from the langskib’s crow’s nest. “There, on the starboard bow!”

On the lower deck, Mandalorians gathered their weapons and helmets on their way to the bow of the ship and as (Y/N) looked towards the right of the langskib, the sight of a crumbling mountain of crystalized earth made her wet her dry lips and hesitantly remark, “I don’t think that’s the Great Forge…”

Her suspicions were confirmed when she noticed the Mandalorian survivors slip their helmets on and sprint to their battle stations, and she was quick to follow Din down the steps to get a closer look at the creature breaking through the mountain; it was a trinitaur, a reptilian beast with a pointed outer shell and a club-shaped tail, and they all paused in horror as it opened its jagged beak and released an ear-splitting shriek. The langskib attempted to swerve out of the creature’s way but its hull snagged on the broken shards of earth and pitched to the side, sending warriors stumbling into one another and dragging them closer to the flailing beast.

The shadow of the trinitaur’s tail blocked out the dim afternoon light as one of the Mandalorian survivors cried out over the din, “Abandon ship!”

Mandalorians activated their jetpacks and took to the skies, and (Y/N) was swept into Din’s arms with only a second to brace herself before they flew away from the doomed langskib; her panicked eyes spotted Grogu being carried off by Axe and Paz, but the explosive impact of the trinitaur’s tail smashing the langskib to pieces forced her to bury her face in Din’s singed cowl and tighten her grip on his shoulders. When their boots made contact with the ground, they began sprinting alongside the rest of the Mandalorians towards a small opening half-hidden amongst an outcropping of rock.

“This way! This way!” They came upon the sunken entrance of a cave and after Din jumped down, he helped (Y/N) down and tightly gripped her hand so that they wouldn’t become separated. “Hurry up! Faster!”

The last of the Mandalorians made it into the hidden cave and when they spotted Grogu’s IG-12 suit, (Y/N) breathed a deep sigh of relief as Din pulled her over to where he stood. “You good?” Grogu cooed in fear but when (Y/N) kissed the top of his head in comfort, the cave shook and showered them in rocks and debris. “We can’t stay here with that creature right outside.”

“What about the Great Forge?” (Y/N) asked as she brushed errant strands of hair out of her eyes and frantically looked around the cave for an exit.

“We’re not far, we need to go further down!” The former Mandalorian captain shouted and while the cave continued to shudder around them, they followed one another through the narrow tunnel that the Mandalorian survivor directed him towards. “Go, go go! Go!”

The flashlights affixed to several Mandalorians’ helmets illuminated their path through the winding tunnel, and they only slowed their pace when the tunnel opened out onto a cliff overlooking a cavernous chamber filled with metallic machinery. Several of the Mandalorian mercenaries removed their helmets and after catching sight of the reverent looks that crossed their uncovered faces, (Y/N) knew that they were standing in the middle of someplace deeply sacred to them.

Din fell into step beside her and quietly asked, “Where are we?”

“This is what’s left of the Great Forge.” Axe stopped walking and swallowed thickly. “This was once the heart of our civilization, but the fires have been extinguished since the bombings.”

Paz’s helmeted head tilted in curiosity. “You lived here?”

“We all did,” Koska replied, a glint of sadness filling her dark brown eyes.

The former Mandalorian captain wearily sighed. “We never left. Survived by migrating along the surface until the war ended. Some tried to explore below, but none survived.”

(Y/N) rubbed the spot on her neck where the cyborg injected her with sedatives, but the distant sound of approaching fuel-powered machinery gave her pause and caused her to glance over at her husband in confusion. “Jetpacks?”

Axe arched a skeptical brow. “More survivors?”

A dark look crossed Bo-Katan’s face as she slipped her helmet on and drew her blasters. “Those aren’t Mandalorians.”

It didn’t take them long to catch sight of the two dozen figures flying towards them, and the atmosphere quickly shifted when they realized that they were all encased in the recognizable white armor of Stormtroopers. “They’re Imperials!”

“Take cover!”

Din managed to tackle (Y/N) and Grogu behind a pile of rocks just before blaster bolts flew through the air and after checking that the child was unharmed, (Y/N) drew her blaster and joined the Mandalorians in returning blaster fire. Carefully taking aim, (Y/N) fired and watched in disbelief as the red blaster bolt bounced off the chest of the Stormtrooper; she’d shot countless Stormtroopers before, during and after the Rebellion, and never once had she encountered one who wore armor strong enough to successfully deflect blaster fire. Unless…

“They’re wearing beskar armor!” Axe shouted over the chaotic sounds of the gunfight.

The Stormtroopers took up positions along the cavern’s walls and on the abandoned machinery that had once been the Great Forge of Mandalore, taking advantage of the high ground and sniping the defenseless Mandalorians whenever they took aim at the chinks in their armor. “We’re pinned down!” Din called out to the others while he continued returning blaster fire. “We need back-up!”

“I can make a run for the fleet and get us reinforcements!”

Bo-Katan whirled around to face Axe and shook her helmeted head. “No, it’s too far!”

“I can make it, it’s our only shot at taking the planet back!” The Mandalorian mercenary insisted.

“There’s a split in the ceiling there!” They looked up to where Paz pointed and saw the narrow opening in the ceiling, just large enough for a single flyer to pass through and make their way to the planet’s crystalized surface. “I’ll lay down cover!”

Paz aimed his blaster cannon at the remnants of the Great Forge across from them and fired, the power of the massive weapon succeeding in downing several Stormtroopers and forcing the rest to scramble for cover; the brief moment of distraction allowed Axe to activate his jetpack and speed through the split in the cavern’s ceiling without their enemy realizing. They were quick to recover from Paz’s attack and a dozen of them flew down to attack their right flank, forcing Paz and several other Mandalorians to return blaster fire. (Y/N), realizing that Stormtroopers were descending on their left flank, shook Din’s shoulder and gestured to the breach in their defenses with her blaster. “C’mon, let’s go!”

Using his beskar-covered body as a makeshift shield, Din led (Y/N) into the fray and defended her as she took advantage of their closer proximity to aim her blaster at the crevices in their armor, slamming his fist into a hovering Stormtrooper and shooting the downed Imp until they stopped moving. All around them, the Mandalorians were beginning to seize the upper hand; they used their whipcords to yank Stormtroopers out of the sky, slashed at the exposed sections of their bodies with vibroblades, detonated hand-held charges slapped onto their jetpacks to disable their flight capabilities and kicked the screaming Stormtroopers off the cliff. The onslaught of well-trained warriors proved to be too much for the remaining Stormtroopers to handle, and they quickly retreated on foot through a tunnel leading away from the Great Forge.

“They’re retreating!”

Bo-Katan finished off her opponent with a blaster bolt to the neck and gestured to her fellow Mandalorians. “Advance!”

A battle cry rang out through the cavernous chamber as the Mandalorians thundered after the charging Nite Owl. After checking that (Y/N) was uninjured, Din led her over to where Grogu was pressed against the jagged rock wall and placed a gloved hand on IG-12’s metal shoulder. “Okay, kid. You’ve gotta keep up.”

“Stay close to us, all right, little guy? Everything’s gonna be okay.” When Grogu gave them both a firm nod, she turned to the Mandalorian standing beside her and flashed him a determined smile. “For Mandalore.”

Din tightened his grip on his blaster and mirrored Grogu’s confident nod. “For Mandalore.”

Together, the three of them ran alongside the charging Mandalorians and followed them into the tunnel. While (Y/N) stayed by Grogu’s side and helped his IG-12 suit navigate the suddenly flat tunnel floor, Din ran ahead and helped Paz and Bo-Katan battle the Stormtroopers unsuccessfully attempting to rally themselves against their pursuit; the blaster bolts whizzing past their heads coupled with the frantic shouts of fleeing Stormtroopers meant that it took (Y/N) longer than usual to realize that they were all sprinting down a hallway, and her footsteps began to falter as she struggled to think of why the gun-metal grey walls and polished floor looked so familiar to her.

The Mandalorians charged around the next corner in time to see the remaining Stormtroopers take flight and speed upwards through what appeared to be a hangar; they fired their blasters at the fleeing Imps until they disappeared through the jagged crevice high above but when the shooting ceased, an uneasy feeling settled over the scouting party as they took in their surroundings. The hangar looked far too sterile and technologically-advanced to be a remnant of Mandalore’s great army, but it wasn’t until (Y/N) looked up and saw the dozen TIE Fighters suspended high above them that she realized where they were standing. “Oh, no…”

Bo-Katan refused to lower her blasters as she agitatedly looked around the Imperial hangar. “What is this place?”

Suddenly, the doors behind their group slid shut while a blast door lowered from above, separating several Mandalorians and – to (Y/N)’s utter horror – Din from the rest of the scouting party. “Din!” She pounded her fist against the blast door’s window and a terrified gasp tore itself from her throat when she saw the remaining dozen Stormtroopers descend onto the platform. “Din, behind you!”

“It’s an ambush!” He yelled over the sound of blaster fire coming from both sides of the thick door; the Stormtroopers were firing upon the small group of Mandalorians without prejudice while Bo-Katan and Paz fired their blasters in a desperate attempt to break down the door. The four Mandalorians trapped alongside Din were shot down one by one while he unsuccessfully attempted to hold the beskar-clad Stormtroopers back by firing his vambrace’s flamethrower at them.

The Stormtroopers landed on the platform and despite the concentrated stream of fire aimed their way, they advanced on Din without a moment of hesitancy in their actions. A whipcord wrapped itself around the wrist controlling the flamethrower but when he simply burned through it, another Imp fired a whipcord that tightly seized him around the neck. “No!” (Y/N) cried as she pounded on the window and helplessly watched her husband being roughly detained with more whipcords and forced onto his knees through tear-filled eyes; Grogu was wailing somewhere behind her, but all she could focus on was the heart-stopping sight of her brave Mandalorian at the mercy of a dozen heavily-armored enemies and the fact that she was powerless to help him. “Din! Din!”

While several Stormtroopers fought to hold a struggling Din steady and the others aimed their blaster rifles at him, a trooper dressed in pitch-black beskar armor akin to what the Mandalorians wore and a crimson cloak descended onto the platform, clenching their gloved fists tight at their sides; (Y/N), realizing that the trooper’s visor was fixed onto her husband’s thrashing form, doubled her efforts to try and break through the door but was stopped by Bo-Katan when she attempted to shoot out the glass with her blaster. “There’s no use! The metal and glass are too thick!”

“I can’t just stand here and watch them kill him!” (Y/N) shouted, trying and failing to wrench her arm out of the Nite Owl’s grasp. “Din!”

“Disarm him,” The Dark Trooper ordered and with tears streaming down her face, (Y/N) watched a duo of Stormtroopers remove every single weapon hidden among Din’s Mandalorian armor, leaving him defenseless at the feet of the mysterious Dark Trooper. When they were satisfied that he was unarmed, they strode forward and removed their horned helmet in one swift motion, revealing the smirking face of Moff Gideon; he never made it to the New Republic War Tribunal, (Y/N) silently lamented, thinking back on the moment Din had had the Imperial commander at his mercy and regretting that he hadn’t killed him when he had the opportunity. “Thank you for gathering the Mandalorians into one place.” Moff Gideon mockingly bowed his head in Din’s direction before looking up at the Mandalorians trapped behind the blast door. “You were a talented people, but your time has passed. However, as you can see, Mandalore will live on in me; thanks to your planet’s rich resources, I have created the next generation Dark Trooper suit, forged from beskar alloy. And the most impressive improvement is that it has me in it.” He held his arms out and gestured to his armor with a dark grin. “As the daughter of a talented seamstress, I’m sure that you can appreciate the thought behind my new armor’s design, Captain (Y/L/N). Oh, and congratulations on the wedding; I hear that the Lake Country of Naboo is a beautiful venue for wedding ceremonies.”

(Y/N)’s blood boiled in rage but Paz’s large hand on her shoulder stopped her from surging forward, and his modulated voice lowly warned, “Hold fast, Captain.”

“You see, every society has something to offer: the cloners, the Jedi, the Naboo, and even the Mandalorians. By aggregating the best of each, I will create an army that will bring order to the galaxy.” The corners of Moff Gideon’s lips curved into a twisted smile as he continued. “Why don’t we take your fleet off the board while we still have the element of surprise? Activate the interceptors and bombers!”

“No!” Bo-Katan cried and the Mandalorians frantically searched for a way out but throughout the hangar, alarms blared and Stormtroopers boarded their ships to carry out the Imperial commander’s orders.

Their panic only seemed to encourage Moff Gideon, who chuckled and shrugged his armored shoulders. “In but a few moments, the Purge of Mandalore will be complete.” He looked over at the two Stormtroopers detaining Din. “Take him to the debriefing room.”

“No, no!” (Y/N) screamed, desperately pounding her fist against the glass as the two Stormtroopers hauled Din to his feet and began dragging him away. “Din!” Her husband struggled against his captors’ tight grips, but he managed to throw her one final look before they wrenched him out of sight.

Bo-Katan’s modulated voice was laced with venom as she addressed her old enemy. “I should’ve killed you when I had the chance.”

Turning around to face her, Moff Gideon’s villainous smile only widened at her threat. “Bo-Katan. We have to stop meeting like this!”

“I’ll make sure of it.”

“Let’s skip the pleasantries, shall we? I believe this is the part where you return the Darksaber to its rightful owner.” Slowly, Bo-Katan unclipped the weapon from her utility belt and held it up for the Imperial commander to see. “Now, surrender the Darksaber, and tell these people that this planet is mine.”

Bo-Katan glanced over at (Y/N), who clenched her jaw tight and gave her a near-imperceptible head-shake, and then at Paz, who swung his blaster cannon around and aimed at the blast doors before them. “This is the Way.”

Chaos erupted as the Mandalorians opened fire on the door and together, (Y/N) and Bo-Katan skidded across the room to the sealed doors at the opposite end; the Nite Owl activated the Darksaber and thrust the illuminated blade into the center of the doors, and (Y/N) clamped her hands around hers to help her cut a circular shape into the thick metal. Behind them, the blast door finally slid open and red blaster bolts whizzed through the air, nearly hitting both women as they worked together to carve out an escape route. Bo-Katan pulled the glowing Darksaber out of the doors and (Y/N) kicked the circle of cut metal out to reveal a human-sized hole. “Move out!” Heeding their leader’s order, the Mandalorians started their retreat through the still-sizzling hole in the doors while the warriors closest to the Stormtroopers covered their brethren by laying down heavy blaster fire. “Move out!”

“Fall back! I’ll cover the rear!” Paz called out over the deafening noise of his blaster cannon.

“Go, go, go!” (Y/N) helped Mandalorian after Mandalorian step through the escape route they’d created and after helping Koska, she all but shoved Grogu’s IG-12 suit through next. “Go, I’ll be there in a sec!” She looked up at Bo-Katan standing across from her, realizing that there were only three of them left. “That’s everyone, Bo, let’s go!”

Bo-Katan turned to where Paz had stationed himself to defend them and called out, “We’re clear, fall back!”

(Y/N)’s brow furrowed when the larger Mandalorian made no move to follow them and continued to fire his blaster cannon at the nearly-invincible Stormtroopers. “Come on, Paz, we’re not leaving you behind!”

Instead of answering, Paz slammed his hand against the nearest control panel and sealed the blast door, leaving him alone to battle a countless number of Stormtroopers on the hangar platform. “Go! There are too many!”

“No!”

Paz glanced over his shoulder at them through the glass of the blast door, and (Y/N) sensed the respect in his pointed gaze as he gave them a firm nod. “This is the Way.”

They watched in stunned disbelief as the Mandalorian fearlessly laid down blaster fire against an enemy that easily outnumbered and outgunned him, all so that his brothers and sisters-in-arms could escape and save their fleet from Moff Gideon and his ruthless Imperial forces. A moment later, Bo-Katan’s visor turned to her and when she nodded her helmeted head, (Y/N) climbed through the hole in the doors and waited for Bo-Katan before running alongside her down the hallway to where the smooth floor transitioned to the uneven dirt of the tunnels.

“Grogu!” (Y/N) quickened her pace when she saw the child’s IG-12 suit positioned by the mouth of the tunnel and skidded to a stop before him. “Are you all right, little guy?” She scanned his tiny body for any injuries and breathed a shaky sigh of relief when she found none; his large eyes shone with unshed tears and the grief written across his wrinkled features broke her heart. “I know, Grogu, but your dad’s gonna be okay. You wanna know how I know that?” He let out a cautious coo and (Y/N) mustered up a small smile for his benefit. “Because we’re gonna rescue him. Together.” She spared Bo-Katan a brief look and nodded towards the tunnel. “The Mandalorians need you, Bo, and Din needs us. We’ll see you on the other side of this mess.”

Rather than arguing or trying to reason with her as she’d done with Paz, Bo-Katan bowed her head in respect. “This is the Way.”

The Nite Owl turned and sprinted down the tunnels after the retreating Mandalorians and (Y/N) tightened her grip on her blaster’s hilt as she met Grogu’s determined eyes. “Are you ready for this?”

“Yes.”

While the horrific memory of Din being overpowered and dragged away from them played on a loop in her mind, a vengeful feeling took hold inside (Y/N) and only burned brighter when she squared her shoulders in preparation for the brutal fight ahead and stared down the Imperial hallway before them. “You’re right, little guy: This is the Way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Mando’a Translations:

Alor’ad-Captain Riduur-Spouse Uj’alayi-dense, very sweet flat cake made of ground nuts, syrup, pureed dried fruit and spice

A/N: A pissed-off Alor’ad is a scary Alor’ad lol thank you all so much for reading and commenting! Oh, and I’ve created a Spotify playlist of all my favorite music from the world of Star Wars, so if you’re interested in checking it out the link is down below!

Spotify Playlist: https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2KuSKJhVOPPvxdJ9YHeo4M?si=2977ff31bf0c4bdd

Chapter Forty-Two

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty​ @sinon36​ @seninjakitey​ @thatonedindjarinfan​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @mostclevermiss​ @momc95​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @elinedjarin​ @ccomandercody​ @crowleysqueenofhell​  @goldielocks2004 @wondergal2001​ @groovyqueer​​ @impala1967666​​ @fluffy-canada-pancakes​​ @icee228​​ @siimiasoi​​

#taking care of business #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x f!reader #din djarin #the mandalorian #grogu #the child #baby yoda #bo katan kryze #paz vizsla #axe woves #koska reeves #the armorer #r5d4 #moff gideon #star wars

[anonymousewrites]

Clan of Three (Book 3) Chapter Six

Father Figure! Mandalorian/Din Djarin x Teen! Reader

Chapter Six: The Sparring

Summary: (Y/N) faces a Mandalorian of their age, and Mando actually manages to push them out of a fight.

Mouse Note: Little pause until drama. I hope you guys enjoy!

            “I’m bringing us to a Mandalorian covert,” explained Mando as he descended into the desert canyons he had left not long ago on his quest for redemption. It felt exhilarating to be returning triumphant. He would once again be part of his Creed and covert. “This is how we have survived in exile.”

            “I’m familiar,” said Bo-Katan.

            “It’s a secret location, and you are my guest,” said Mando to Bo-Katan.

            “They still live by the old ways,” remarked Bo-Katan.

            “Yes. It will go smoother if you keep your helmet on. Trust me,” said Mando. “(Y/N) and Grogu have taken no Creed and are my foundlings, so they don’t have to worry, but you are Mandalorian.”

            Bo-Katan scoffed. “Of course.”

            They’re all still hesitant to accept their differences in their beliefs, thought (Y/N). Maybe actually getting to see that they can work together and be friends will help. They sighed grumpily. Why did Mandalore the Great have to make them understand so much responsibility?

            The two ships landed beside a lake and the mouth of a cave. Bo-Katan, Grogu in his cradle, and (Y/N) walked out of her ship as Mando disembarked the N-1. Undoubtedly, their presences had already been noted. Indeed, Paz Viszla was watching them from the entrance of the cave. He walked into the open, and a group of Mandalorians emerged with him. Mando stood next to his adike. He didn’t fear that the Mandalorians would harm two foundlings, innocent of any wrongdoings against the Mandalorians, but he couldn’t help but be protective.

            “Come no further,” said Paz as the group approached. “You are an apostate, Din Djarin.”

            “No longer,” said Mando. “I have been to the mines of Mandalore.”

            “Impossible,” said Paz. “The mines were collapsed in the Purge. The planet is cursed.”

            “These are lies meant to keep us in exile,” said Mando.

            “How do we know that it is not you who are lying?” challenged Paz.

            “Because he is honorable,” said (Y/N), stepping up beside their buir. The desert sun slanted over their eyes, darkening the contrast of their skin and their Ushti markings. They stared firmly at Paz. “Grogu cooed in eager agreement.

            Bo-Katan nodded. “I witnessed it.”

            “And who are you, Nite Owl?” questioned Paz.

            Bo-Katan stood straight as she addressed Paz. “I am Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze.”

            “Your house has fallen from the Way. You are both apostates,” said Paz.

            “I witnessed them both in the Living Waters,” said (Y/N). “Does that satisfy you?”

            Paz faced them, large and imposing. “You are Din Djarin’s Ushti foundling.”

            “Yes,” said (Y/N), standing firm. “And I say Bo-Katan and my bui—Din Djarin are not lying. They have bathed in the Living Waters.” I did, too, but that was mostly an accident.

            Except when you went in willingly in your vision, came an unbidden thought that (Y/N) promptly pushed away.

            The Mandalorians murmured to one another, unsure what to think. Mando removed the flask of Living Water from his hip and held it out.

            “I bring proof,” he said.

            “We shall see,” said Paz. The group of Mandalorians parted to let Grogu, (Y/N), Mando, and Bo-Katan walk in. They would face the Armorer, who would test their proof.

            Mando led them calmly to where the Armorer stood at her furnace, calmly forging new armor.

            “Din Djarin claims to have bathed in the Living Waters,” said Paz.

            “Is this true?” asked the Armorer.

            “It is. I have proof,” said Mando. He extended the flask once more.

            The Armorer turned and smoothly took the sample.

            “I was witness,” said Bo-Katan. “He and his Ushti foundlings, (Y/N), fell to the depths, and I pulled them out.”

            Even through the helmets, (Y/N) could feel eyes turned on them. They were a stranger, just a foundling of an apostate who may have redeemed himself. They had taken no creed, wore no armor, and carried beskar as a weapon. For them to have bathed in the Living Waters, a symbol of Mandalore’s religion, was unheard of.

            The Armorer did not speak, though (Y/N) wished they could see her expression, and turned to a cauldron of water. She poured the sample into the pot, and it glowed in a ripple of blue before calming once more. “He speaks the truth,” said the Armorer. “These are indeed the Living Waters. Din Djarin, you are redeemed. This is the Way.”

            “This is the Way,” repeated the Mandalorians.

            (Y/N) let out a breath of relief and smiled. Mando was redeemed. He was home.

            “And Bo-Katan Kryze, by Creed, you too are redeemed,” said the Armorer.

            “But I do not walk the Way,” said Bo-Katan uncomfortably.

            “Did you bathe in the Waters?” asked the Armorer.

            Bo-Katan nodded. “I did.”

            “And have you removed your helmet since?” questioned the Armorer.

            “No, I have not,” said Bo-Katan.

            “Then you may join our covert and live as your ancestors once did,” said the Armorer. “You may leave anytime you wish. Until then, you are one of us. Welcome, Bo-Katan of Clan Kryze. This is the Way.”

            “This is the Way,” repeated the Mandalorians.

            “And, Din Djarin, your foundlings are, of course, welcome to live freely here,” said the Armorer. She did not question their presence or return. She hadn’t when giving Mando his new quest, and she wouldn’t now. She simply accepted the foundlings were Mando’s Clan of Three. “This is the Way.”

            “This is the Way,” chorused the Mandalorians.

l

            (Y/N) sat beside Grogu as he played with the crabs on the edge of the lake. (Y/N) was turned away, focusing on the Mandalorians training across the beach. There were Mandalorians of all ages sparring, flying, shooting, and working on all the skills necessary to serve the Creed and their covert.

            Mando approached his foundlings, and they both looked up at him from where they sat. “It’s time that you learn with the other foundlings,” he said.

            (Y/N) glanced back at the training teenage Mandalorians. Although they enjoyed fighting, they were unsure of joining the Mandalorians. They didn’t have a helmet, and while Grogu was mentally younger, they weren’t. If they were Mandalorian, they’d have a helmet at this point. More to the point, (Y/N) was worried they wouldn’t fit in and would be an outsider. They were still Ushti, helmetless, and Force-Sensitive. Mando accepted them, but would other Mandalorians?

            “Are you sure?” asked (Y/N).

            “You’ll be alright, Verd’ika,” assured Mando. He picked up Grogu. “Come on.”

            “Fine,” muttered (Y/N). “But if I make anyone mad, it’s your fault.”

            Mando sighed. (Y/N) still reverted to anger when nervous. “Grogu will go first, how about that?”

            (Y/N) shrugged. “You’re gonna make me anyways.”

            Mando sighed once more before carrying Grogu to where a sparring match was just finishing.

            “Next challenger,” said the Mandalorian instructor.

            Mando put Grogu down on the sand.

            “Are you sure this is a good idea?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “If they are ever to rise from foundling to apprentice, they must learn,” said Mando. “Judge,” he called. He nodded to Grogu. “He challenges.”

            “He is too small,” said the Judge.

            “He is my ward. Proceed,” said Mando.

            “What weapon?” asked Judge.

            “Let the challenged decide,” said Mando.

            “Darts,” replied the boy.

            “Bring the training darts,” said Judge, and a fellow Mandalorian nodded and headed off.

            “Why don’t they wear helmets?” questioned the boy, looking between Grogu and (Y/N).

            “He is too young to speak the Creed, and so, too young to wear a helmet,” said Mando. “And them…” He looked at (Y/N), and they shrugged. “Their situation is complicated. They grew up in another culture.”

            “If he’s too young to wear a helmet, he’s too young to fight,” said the boy.

            “ ‘One does not speak unless one knows,’ ”  said Mando. “Is that not the Creed?”

            “Well, I know,” said the boy.

            “Perhaps this lesson is for you, then,” said Mando.

            Grogu, kick his ass, thought (Y/N).

            “The training darts,” said a Mandalorian, handing the container to Judge.

            Judge opened the box and removed the small gauntlets. “Fighters, arm yourselves.”

            The boy took a gauntlet and strapped it to his wrist, and Bo-Katan knelt to help Grogu with his.

            “Don’t worry. My dad was the same way. He’s just proud of you. You take it easy on him,” she said before standing. Poor Grogu just looked around in confusion.

            “Each has three darts,” said Judge. “You may fire the darts in any order. Each direct hit scores one point. A mark must be visible to score. One round. Highest score wins.”

            “Squeeze your fist to launch the darts,” said Mando encouragingly to Grogu. “You’ll be fine.”

            “He doesn’t know how to fire darts?” questioned Bo-Katan.

            “He’s got this. Trust me,” said Mando.

            “Ready. Begin!” said the Judge.

            The boy crouched and fired before Grogu even moved. A paintball splattered on Grogu’s robe.

            “Point,” announced Judge.

            Grogu cooed and looked at Mando.

            “Don’t look at me. Look at him,” instructed Mando.

            “Ready,” announced Judge again. “Begin!” Another hit on Grogu. “Point!”

            Mando crouched beside Grogu. “Grogu, I’ve seen what you can do. It’s okay. Show them.”

            “Come on, buddy. Show them what you’re made of,” encouraged (Y/N).

            Grogu babbled and turned back.

            “Ready,” said Judge. “Begin!”

            The boy threw his hand out, but as he fired, Grogu flipped over him, landed, and then jumped back to the other side as the boy failed to track him. As the boy tried to turn, Grogu fired three darts of paint into the boy’s chest.

            “Three points, Winner!” announced the Judge.

            “There you go,” said Mando proudly.

            “Good job, Grogu,” said (Y/N), and Grogu cooed happily.

            “Did you teach him that?” asked Bo-Katan.

            “Not me,” said Mando.

            The boy sighed in disappointment and walked off.

            “Great job, kid,” said Mando, picking him up.

            “What of your other foundling, Din Djarin?” said the Armorer, and the group’s heads turned to her. She had appeared beside Paz without anyone noticing.

            Oh, great, now I have to prove myself in front of the Armorer, the person in charge of literally everything in the covert. Great, thought (Y/N).

            “They are well-trained,” said Mando, firmly believing in (Y/N).

            “Miyan Nyk, step forward,” said the Armorer.

            A Mandalorian boy, (Y/N)’s age judging by height and how Mandalorian training went, stepped forward. He wore a red helmet and several pieces of red armor, dusty from training.

            “Do you, (Y/N) of the Ushti Hilo Clan, accept a challenge?” asked the Armorer.

            (Y/N) might be uncomfortable about feeling like an outsider, but their pride was worth something. They wouldn’t back down. This was a test. “I accept,” they said simply.

            “What weapons?” asked Judge.

            “The outsider can choose,” said Miyan.

            “Daggers,” said (Y/N). “If that’s acceptable for sparring.”

            Judge nodded and looked at a fellow Mandalorian. “Fetch the training knives.”

            “Close-range combat,” noted Miyan. “That poses risks to unarmored opponents. Are you sure?”

            “I’m not afraid of a few cuts,” said (Y/N). They drew their beskar Ushti dagger from their belt and extended it to Mando. “But just in case, I won’t keep this with me. For your sake.”

            There was a small murmuring in the crowd at the sight of the beskar weapon. It was small but still highly unorthodox. The Mandalorian returned with a box of training knives, and (Y/N) and Miyan both took one.

            “The sparring match continues until one yields or is unable to continue,” explained Judge.

            Mando put a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder and squeezed in encouragement. “Just focus, Verd’ika. I’ve seen you fight.”

            (Y/N) nodded and turned to face Miyan.

            “Ready,” said Judge. “Begin!”

            Miyan lunged, and (Y/N) dodged, spinning the dagger in their hand. They didn’t attack, however, even as Miyan spun. They parried his attack, keeping close as they watched his moves. Miyan struck out, and as (Y/N) moved, he twirled the dagger and slashed at them. They moved their head just enough, and it clipped their cheek. A line of red appeared as the cut opened.

            “No helmet to block an attack,” said Miyan.

            "A single defeat is nothing if you stand back up to fight another day."

            (Y/N) smirked and wiped the blood from their cheek. “A single cut on the cheek doesn’t mean victory.” They liked to imagine Miyan glaring at them in annoyance beneath his helmet since that was a great motivation to them.

            Miyan attacked again, and (Y/N) moved swiftly. They had waited once and allowed him to strike them. But they had been patient, and now they knew what was coming. (Y/N) dodged, and as Miyan twirled the dagger, (Y/N) tossed their dagger into the air. At the same moment, (Y/N) dropped to the ground. They swept Miyan’s legs out from under him. As he fell, he twisted and struck with his dagger, still fighting. (Y/N), like a snake, twisted out of the way, and as Miyan hit the ground and turned to attack, (Y/N) pinned him. At the same moment, they threw out a hand, and their dagger flew back to their hand. They pressed it to Miyan’s neck as they held down him and his weapon.

            “A single cut here would do it, don’t you think?” said (Y/N) with a smile lacking friendliness. “No armor there.”

            “I yield,” said Miyan through gritted teeth.

            “Winner!” announced Judge.

            (Y/N) stepped back and offered a hand. Miyan paused before taking it and allowing (Y/N) to help him up.

            “Not so bad,” said Miyan.

            “Neither are you,” said (Y/N).

            They nodded curtly to each other before turning away. (Y/N) smiled at Mando. He nodded approvingly.

            “I knew you could do it, Verd’ika,” said Mando.

            “Din, they let him cut them to make a point,” said Bo-Katan in exasperation.

            (Y/N) shrugged. “He annoyed me.”

            Mando shrugged as if saying “yeah, he was rude to my kid, so they kicked his ass,” and Bo-Katan groaned. These people were crazy.

            “Your foundlings have been taught well, Din Djarin,” observed the Armorer.

            Mando nodded. “They work hard.”

            “I can see,” said the Armorer. She looked at (Y/N). “Did you fight with a plan or on instinct?”

            (Y/N) shifted. “I…took the advice someone gave me. I tried to be patient and watched Miyan’s moves instead of rushing. I tried to be smart about the fight.”

            The Armorer nodded.

            Before any further discussion, a loud cry echoed. All heads turned to the waterfront where the boy from Grogu’s sparring match was running to avoid a winged beast flying at them. It snatched him up and flew back into the air in a moment.

            Mando drew his blaster, and Paz was quick to push his arm down. “No blasters, it will kill the child. Follow it to its lair.”

            He and Mando jumped into the air with their jetpacks and were off in a shot. Several other Mandalorians followed. Bo-Katan was quick to jump into her ship and fly after the creature as well. All the rest could do was gather the foundlings and children into the cave for safety and watch in worry.

Taglist:

@im-making-an-effort

@gr33n-d00dles

@alexpangender

@painstakingly-juno

@treehouse-mouse

@theurbannoodle

@pedropascalsidechick

@dmitrytherat

@dilfsaremyfavourite

#clan of three #x reader #x gn reader #gn reader #x nb reader #nb reader #x teen reader #x teen!reader #platonic #platonic x reader #father figure #found family #found family trope #mandolorian x teen reader #mando x teen reader #mando x teen!reader #mandolorian x reader #mando x reader #mandolorian x teen!reader #the mandolorian #mandalorian x teen reader #mandalorian x teen!reader #mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x teen reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x jedi!reader #din djarin x teen!reader #din djarin #din djarin x jedi reader

[vanishedangels]

Blunda

Summary: In a Galaxy where the Jedi are almost forgotten, Din Djarin, a young mandalorian, is currently in his final year at Galactic Republic College. At the beginning of his last semester he meets the enigmatic Luke Skywalker, his best friend's estranged twin brother, and he grows obsessed with him almost immediately. He would do anything to win his heart, even when Luke treats him with utter disdain.

Pairing: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker

Characters: Din Djarin, Luke Skywalker, Leia Organa, Paz Vizsla, Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala, Koska Reeves, Cobb Vanth, Bo-Katan Kryze, Axe Vowes.

Rating: Mature (+18) Rating will change

Warnings: Emotional Distress, Manipulation.

Tags: Canon Divergence AU, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Tumblr Prompt, Eventual Smut, Luke Skywalker Whump.

Chapters: 3/?

Navigation: <- Previous Chapter • Next Chapter ->

Excerpt:

The boy squinted and leaned back in the chair, resting his forearms on the table "You know Djarin, I came here to be alone." He said flatly making Din's stomach clench. As Luke started drumming his fingers on the table Din looked down at those hands he found beautiful, observing them, Luke was wearing silver rings, three to be precise, one on the right thumb, one on the right index finger and the third one on the left middle finger, and he was also wearing black nail polish, a little chipped at the tips, and Din had to look away to suppress the impulse to reach out and brush his fingers against Luke's. Now his eyes were fixed on Luke's datapad and he could see what the boy was reading about.

"Tatooine, huh?" He looked up at him, half smiling and raising his eyebrows.

Luke leaned forward covering the datapad with his arms, he hummed.

"Have you been to Tatooine?" Din insisted and Luke shrugged.

Chapter 3: The secret

Leia sat up on the mattress abruptly, breathless, something has roused her from a deep sleep in the middle of the night.

"Luke." She gasped jumping out of the bed as an unpleasant feeling settled in her gut. She couldn't figure out what was exactly causing it, still she was certain that Luke needed her.

When she finally opened the door to her brother's bedroom she could see Luke stirring beneath the sheets even when the only light bathing his room was the moonlight filtered in through the heavy curtains, she swallowed hard taking a few steps forward, her little hands resting on the end of the mattress, and she touched Luke's foot through the sheets "Luke. Please, wake up." She nudged his leg with her hands but the only response she got was that Luke was squirming in his bed now and her heart skipped a beat when the boy started whining.

"Gods, Luke, it's me, Leia." She said walking around the bed to cup his face with her hands and she could feel a low rumble in Luke's chest before he opened his eyes screaming, and before she could say a word something pushed her backwards with such violence that her little body hit the floor. She groaned. She looked up only to find Luke staring at her, still on the bed, levering himself up onto his hands, he was breathing hard, his dark hair plastered against his forehead, he frowned at Leia as realization crossed his features. Leia moved a little and Luke ran towards her trying to grab her by her upper arms, she could feel the way her ankle started throbbing painfully now. She sat up on the floor boring into Luke's eyes "You used the force." She said under her breath, Luke's hands tensed up against her. "You used the force against me."

"No." He said tightening his grip around her arms.

"You have no control over it. You're out of control." She frowned rolling back her shoulders in order to urge Luke to let go of her.

Luke's mouth set in a hard line, not breaking eye contact with her.

Then her eyes softened, she tilted her head "You're in pain." She said as her hand found Luke's cheek and the boy blinked astonished. "Oh, Luke. What had he done to you?" She asked stroking his skin.

"I didn't mean it." He looked down avoiding her gaze and he moved his head slightly, escaping her touch "Are you hurt?" Luke was now hauling her to her feet.

"Luke, please, talk to me." Leia insisted.

"Just answer me, dammit! Are you hurt?" Luke's eyes looked glossy now.

"I'm not hurt, for fuck's sake! I need you to trust me. I'm here. What was that Luke? What happened?"

Luke pouted and crouched down before her, unclasping her walking boot "You're gonna need ice." He caressed her injured ankle "Fuck! I'm so sorry, Leia."

Leia sighed realizing that Luke wouldn't open himself up to her. At least not yet.

~

"I'm screwed Leia, you keep talking about this galactic trade law but I can't memorize jack shit." Din dropped his holopen sighing defeated when he saw Luke entering the living room and he locked eyes with him, casually raising his arms above his head and he leaned back sinking in the big couch, resting the back of his head on his hands, fingers intertwined as he exposed his chest and neck, still staring at the boy pointedly. He heard Luke groaning, it was a subtle sound, almost inaudible but it fueled Din's fantasies in a heartbeat, and now he couldn't stop thinking about Luke making cute little noises beneath him, his body pressing against Luke's, pleasuring him. Then he remembered that Leia was still right beside him and when Luke disappeared into the corridor, he looked at her sideways, finding that she was as lost in thought as he had been a second ago.

"What is it, Lei?" He asked leaning forward and moving his arms to rest a hand on his friend's shoulder.

She shook her head "Never mind. We can talk about it some other time, now, you need to learn this shit." She pointed at her datapad.

In fact Din could have learned by heart that ridiculously long, never-ending law all by himself, but he spent the whole Saturday longing to see Luke again after the Mando party and by Sunday he couldn't withstand the urge to go to Leia's place and wait for Luke, the dark angel that shared a Junipera with him in the privacy of his room, to show up. And Luke showed up, twice.

An hour later Luke crossed the living room wearing a white hoodie that framed his cute face in a way that had Din swooning over him.

"I'm going for a walk." Luke said casting a glance at his sister, Leia nodded and the moment Luke closed the front door behind him, Din was already packing up his stuff.

"Uh-" He said standing up and zipping his satchel "Paz is gonna kill me, I promised him I was going to help him with statistics. It's late." He leaned forward pressing a kiss on Leia's forehead, gently pushing her shoulder down when she tried to stand up. "Don't, I know the way, you should rest, take care of that ankle." He said rushing to the main door, he heard Leia sighing at the distance.

He smiled when he saw Luke disappearing down the corner and headed towards that direction. Still keeping a distance, he followed Luke into a caf shop that Din knew quite well. Luke was sitting alone at a small table, hunching forward, reading and he looked absorbed in his datapad.

Din approached him giving Luke a big smile when the boy looked up.

"Are you following me?" The boy in eyeliner asked.

Feeling completely exposed, Din's smile faded as he pressed his lips together "I saw you from across the street and came to say hi." What a liar.

Luke blinked a couple of times "Hi." He muttered and shifted his gaze to his datapad, Din sat down across from him, Luke looked at him again, frowning this time. Gods! You look so beautiful with that hood on, Din thought, sucking in a breath.

The boy squinted and leaned back in the chair, resting his forearms on the table "You know Djarin, I came here to be alone." He said flatly making Din's stomach clench. As Luke started drumming his fingers on the table Din looked down at those hands he found beautiful, observing them, Luke was wearing silver rings, three to be precise, one on the right thumb, one on the right index finger and the third one on the left middle finger, and he was also wearing black nail polish, a little chipped at the tips, and Din had to look away to suppress the impulse to reach out and brush his fingers against Luke's. Now his eyes were fixed on Luke's datapad and he could see what the boy was reading about.

"Tatooine, huh?" He looked up at him, half smiling and raising his eyebrows.

Luke leaned forward covering the datapad with his arms, he hummed.

"Have you been to Tatooine?" Din insisted and Luke shrugged.

"When I was a kid." He muttered and Din beamed when he finally managed to engage Luke in the conversation.

"I love Tatooine." Din commented making Luke chuckle.

"You're out of your mind, Tatooine is a hellhole." The boy added with a little grin on his face and Din was suddenly experiencing a fluttery feeling in his stomach.

"Then why are you reading about Tatooine? I can see you're reading about Tusken Raiders' culture." Din said folding his arms over the table and Luke scratched his nose and fuck! Din clenched his hands into fists against his own arms unconsciously, because deep inside he was dying to cup that little face of Luke and press a kiss on the tip of his nose.

"It's the language, I'd like to learn Tusken Sign Language." Luke said absentmindedly, eyes on the table, eliciting a little gasp from Din. The boy looked at him again furrowing his brows "None of your business, tho."

Din's eyebrows raised as he leaned back in his seat, groaning, understanding that Luke was putting up his walls once again, but he wouldn't miss this opportunity. He needed to act cool, even when he could feel his heartbeat drumming inside his head, he shifted in his chair trying to hide his effervescence.

"I know Tusken Sign Language." He said pressing a hand to his chest, Luke's eyes flickered to his chest and then he looked into his eyes chuckling. Din was holding his breath.

"For real?" Luke asked giving him a lopsided smile and Din's stomach fluttered more intensely this time.

"Yes!" He leaned forward, hardly containing his excitement, there was Luke's bright side again and he was basking in the boy's gleam, like he was a lonely bounty hunter staring at the moon in the dark night sky reflecting the sun's light in silence. "I traveled through the galaxy when I was a mandalorian apprentice and I learned a lot of languages, it's crucial when it comes to negotiation skills."

Luke nodded "Makes sense." He pressed his lips together.

"I can teach you if you want." Din managed to say as his heartbeat sped up hoping Luke couldn't notice how keenly interested he was in being his tutor.

"That-" The boy sighed rubbing his temple with the tip of his fingers "That would be great."

Din's heart skipped a beat.

He couldn't believe he was now sitting beside Luke, showing him the basic hand shapes and the second he was about to correct Luke, he hesitated, withdrawing his hand, he shook his head smiling "You need to curl the thumb inwards." He sighed.

Luke frowned staring at his own hand and tried to follow Din's suggestion.

"No, just, like this." Din showed him how, gesturing with his right hand and he couldn't hold it back anymore when Luke was still struggling with the proper thumb position, he finally wrapped his fingers around the boy's hand and it felt so right, so good. He lingered there enjoying it more than he should until he finally moved the boy's thumb. Luke's eyes fixed on his hand. "There, Luke, that's good. Like that." He said under his breath releasing his hand. But now his skin was burning and he was very conscious of the way his belly tightened all of a sudden.

Luke looked at him with round eyes and Din tilted his head, lips aching to kiss the boy's next to him. "How-" Luke's voice trailed off.

"Yes, Luke?" He asked taking a deep breath.

"How do you say I love you?" Luke asked frowning and then his eyes flickered to Din's mouth.

Din froze. He parted his lips but the words didn't come out easily "Uh-" Luke kept staring at him with piercing eyes "That. Right. Hmm." He couldn't hold his gaze anymore, finding the wooden table very fascinating now.

Luke was still waiting, in silence. Din blinked shaking his head "I don't know. Like I said, we learned languages in order to negotiate." He sighed.

"And that's not something you need to say while negotiating." Luke replied making Din look at him again.

"But I can do a little research if you want." He said rubbing his hands against his thighs.

Luke considered it for a moment and then he nodded "Alright." He said standing up "I'll see you around I guess." He added and Din's eyes followed him.

"Of course, maybe tomorrow after classes." Din said finally standing up, desperation taking him over.

Luke looked at him over his shoulder "I'm busy."

Din walked behind him leaving the shop "Then, the day after tomorrow?"

"We'll see, Djarin. Besides, you're always around, it's not like I'll never see you again." He huffed a laugh "Good night."

Din swallowed hard staring at him walking away as emptiness settled in his chest, he thought he was finally breaking Luke's shell, but he fooled himself once again. He turned around shoving his hands in his pockets and walked down the street, his heart aching as he thought back to the little intimate moment they shared, sitting so close to each other at that tiny table, Luke's thighs brushing against his own, his hand wrapped around Luke's, so warm and soft. He tossed his head back trying to stop that train of thought, it was only bringing him pain and suffering, wanting something he couldn't have. Wanting him.

~

Something caught Din's attention in History class, this guy wouldn't stop glaring at Luke now and then. Din stared at him and the guy locked eyes with him. Din lifted his shoulder in a half shrug, shaking his head with a scowl on his face making the guy look away snarling.

"What's going on, vod?" Paz asked keeping his voice down, leaning in.

"Nothing." He frowned taking his hand to his lips, holding his holopen between his fingers.

"Seems like you're trying to pick a fight with Axe." His vod insisted.

Din cocked his head sighing, he hated the way Paz could read him, in fact, it was a miracle he hasn't figured out that Din was crazy about Leia's brother already.

Axe. Axe Vowes was a mandalorian just like them, still he was arrogant and Bo-Katan's best friend, Din tried to get along with him in the past, but the guy was unbearable, always belittling Din and Paz' tribe, calling them primitives and such. The man was so full of himself and that irked Din somehow, still he didn't know why.

Although Din ignored Axe systematically since then, he wouldn't ignore the way he was leering at Luke and, clearly, backbiting about him with his friend. They kept chuckling every time Axe found that Din was giving him a death stare.

"Cut it out, vod." Paz intervened again making Din flinch.

"He's picking on Luke." He finally revealed the reason for his behaviour.

Paz turned around to look at Luke, the boy was almost asleep, face resting on his hand. He looked at Din again "Seems like Skywalker doesn't give a shit about it, why do you care?"

"He's Leia's brother." He lied to cover himself hoping Paz would buy it.

"Okay." Paz nodded clenching his fist over his desk "You know I love when I kick the shit out of people. Count me in." Din stared at him noticing the way his nostrils flared and he was already regretting telling Paz about it. Paz was a war machine, always ready to take advantage of his massive body and extraordinary strength. People used to be intimidated by him, but Din was always right there beside him to talk some sense into him, Din was as violent as Paz but he was more clever than him, only recurring to violence as a last resort. Paz was tall, heavily built, beefy, with tanned skin and dark hair, with hazel eyes and strong masculine features, and above all those things, a big scar crossed his cheek and all the way up to his eyebrow, courtesy of a smuggler that got into a fight with him one night when Paz was completely drunk and trying to stand up for a slave female twi'lek in a sleazy cantina, Din respected him for that.

Luke left the classroom the second the teacher dismissed the class as usual, but this time Din's eyes were on Axe, ready to step in if the mandalorian tried and follow Luke. But Axe didn't, and the tension around Din's shoulders dwindled as he walked towards the door. Axe stood up with a smirk on his face "Hello, Djarin." He pursed his lips staring at Din pointedly.

Din looked away and kept walking giving Paz the side-eye, his vod nodded understanding that there was no need to confront Axe, at least for now.

~

After his last class Din joined Paz and Cobb in the hallway.

"I don't know man, Koska is very smart." Cobb said smiling.

"So you mean she's returning to me soon?" Paz asked while the three of them were walking towards the campus.

"No, I mean that maybe this time she dumped you for good." He burst into laughter as Paz slapped his upper arm, leaving him breathless "Fuck, Paz!" He choked.

"Hey, vod, don't do that, he's too skinny and your hands too heavy." Din bantered and Cobb wrinkled his nose.

"Thank you Din, you're very helpful." Cobb let out a sigh.

Din was laughing shaking his head until he saw Luke walking in the outdoor seating area's direction followed by Axe.

Din started walking towards them without hesitation as rage flowed through him like lava. His heart thumping inside his chest when he saw them disappearing behind the building, he was quivering with anger when he finally made it to the seating area and then he froze. Axe was resting his hands on the wall at the sides of Luke's head, encasing him.

"I know you're Anakin Skywalker's son." Axe said through gritted teeth "Your father is a disgrace."

"Stay away from him, Axe." Din said standing before them as Paz and Cobb joined him.

"Not until this little shit admits that he's son to a murderer, a scumbag."

What?

"Come on, man. You're mistaken, this is Leia's brother." Cobb walked closer to him.

Luke narrowed his eyes holding Axe's gaze "Move away." He said quietly.

"Say it!" Axe insisted, tugging at the collar of Luke's shirt. "Fucking Skywalker! I want to hear you say it!"

"Fuck you!" Luke retorted, his voice thick with anger and something stirred inside Din when he saw the way Luke's expression darkened, making the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

Luke raised his arm between them and Axe stumbled a little until Luke moved his fingers, making a crushing hand gesture, and Axe was suddenly struggling to breathe, taking a few steps back and pressing his hands to his own throat. Luke took two steps forward, his eyes were blazing with fury, his arm outstretched as his fingers twitched a little.

Din was frozen taking in the scene unfolding before him until he noticed the way Axe was rolling his eyes and he understood that he needed to stop it "Luke!" He yelled, finally moving towards Luke "Stop! Stop, Luke!" He was grabbing him by his upper arms from behind "Please, stop!" His voice breaking a little.

He heard Luke sighing deeply as he relaxed his hand and Axe fell flat on his face coughing and digging his fingers into the floor. Cobb rushed to him trying to know if he was alright, but Axe didn't pay attention to him, he looked up at Luke instead, visibly perplexed "Just like your father." He said breathlessly.

Din's hands were still around Luke's biceps, the boy squirmed releasing himself from Din's grip. Din stared at him as he started walking away leaving him behind. When Din looked around, Cobb was already helping Axe to walk towards the building. He looked at Paz, his vod was frowning standing in front of him.

"Can't believe it." Paz muttered. Din's stomach clenched and his chest heaved realizing that Luke almost killed Axe without even touching him. "Skywalker is a Jedi." He added and Din grimaced.

"What?"

"That shit, that shit he used, that's called the force, vod." Paz explained.

Din heard about Jedi but never saw anyone using that thing called The force. He had always thought that the force was actually a myth, until now. He ran his hand through his hair bewildered, he needed answers.

~

Leia listened carefully to every word Din said, he was breathing hard by the time he finished, he was feeling desperate, he was worried about Luke and he was convinced that talking to his twin sister about it was the right thing to do. They were in her bedroom, it was already dark outside and a storm broke moments after he walked into the Amidala's house.

Leia blinked a few times and Din could tell she was trying to hold back tears.

She walked to the window, Din followed her as a bolt of lightning cracked the sky followed by a deep rumple of thunder and he huffed trying to remain calm, but he was very conscious of the way his heart was pounding against his ribs.

"Paz said he was using the force." He managed to say.

She raised her eyebrows "Yes. He's a force-user, Din."

"Did you know about it?" He inquired.

Her expression softened as she tilted her head "We always knew that he was a force-user, and so am I." Leia said and Din's eyes widened. "But I haven't trained since I was a little girl."

"Why you didn't tell me about it?" Din rested his forearm on the wall and leaned in trying to catch her eyes.

Leia shrugged "It's not important to me, it's something that doesn't define me anymore. I'm my mother's daughter, that's all that matters to me."

"And Luke is his father's son." He nodded looking into her eyes. She nodded back with a melancholic smile on her face. "Luke's a Jedi." He said under his breath.

Leia shook her head slowly, sadness in her eyes "Din, a Jedi trains in the ways of the light side of the force."

"I don't understand."

Leia sighed crossing her arms over her chest "What you described, the technique Luke used to hurt Axe, a Jedi can't and won't use it." Din lifted his chin still not understanding what his friend was trying to say. "Din, that's a Sith technique." He could hear the way she choked with emotion "Don't you see? Someone has been training him to use the dark side of the force."

"What's a Sith?" Din asked as a feeling of dread crept over him unexpectedly.

"Someone that has lost their way." She frowned rubbing her hand across her forehead while Din rested his hands on his hips sighing deeply and looking through the window.

"Is it too late?" Din asked afraid of the answer he would get.

"No. I can feel it... right here." She took her hand to her chest "There's still good in him."

Din breathed a sigh of relief.

"Be careful, Din." She said and caught him off guard.

"What?" He looked at her with round eyes.

"I think you know what I mean." She said holding his gaze.

Din looked away, the sound of rain outside filling in the silence. He pressed a kiss on her cheek and walked away knowing that he wouldn't stop by the big couch on his way out that night.

#dinluke #din djarin #luke skywalker #dinluke fanfiction #blunda fanfic #skydalorian

[flowerflamestars]

Red & Gold snippet

“You think I would endow your rule?” Ara continued, fire and ash. “ I will melt your beskar for the chains you’ll wear when we give you to the Republic. I have seen the Uniter’s face, but you will not survive to see grass grow over the glass hills.” Ara dropped her and then, only then, did Quinlan open the door. “You’re a waste,” Bo-Katan croaked. “You are holy. Take it for yourself then. Give it to your fucking sorcerer- Mandalore is dying.” Armor and anger, her chin raised high, Ara turned back to them. Walked away from the woman who’d raised Deathwatch back to a fury, yet another daughter of the Kryze reaching too far. “Mandalore will always survive, so long as there are Mandalorians. This is the Way.” She did not look back. She walked out, her steps slow and measured, seething silent as the door locked, as Quinlan wordlessly pulled her down the hall, past the guards, and down yet another unused hallway, into a storage space like he’d memorized the route. It was only there, alone with them, that Ara breathed. Pressed the heels of her hands to eyes, and said, rough around the edges, “We can’t give her to the Kevalens.” With a gentleness that was visible, Quinlan brush her elbow like he might skin, glancing touch on the armored joint. Fox was not so gentle. “I’ll kill her.” Feeling slammed back into his brain- depth and breath and enough fire to fill the sky, a bottomless wanting, a bright burning haze over everything- Quinlans’s emotions had color and taste and- disappeared again, leaving a copper iron tang in Fox’s mouth not unlike blood. It would have been preferable, a solid hit to the face, than to lose that tiny, infinite thread. Fox gritted his teeth. “She landed on sovereign Vode soil. It stops there." Ara raised her head, dark eyes liquid. “If that peice of shit Duchess is on Coruscant, Kryze here, and Vizsla dead, who ran them all off of Mandalore?” “Who,” Quinlan breathed, tipping forward until his cheek leaned against the dense weft of her braids, “Has the saber?”

#in red and gold these ways of old #hello murder sedition treason and That Bitch Triad #Fox: I would like a MORE INTIMATE RELATIONSHIP ALSO #Ara: that's what this is? murder? yes? #Quin is just like honestly fighting himself so hard its ridiculous #we do not vibe with Bo Katan here sorry

[paz-djarin]

Coffee and Books (Part 1)

Cafe/Modern AU. A bartsia falls for a book store owner.

Rating: General Audience

Authors Note: Sorry for misspelling.

Part 1 | Part 2

Rain pours down on the city, people rushing to their destinations.

A door opens to a coffee shop. The small bell rang, Din looks to see who walked in. A tall young looking man had walked in. He has short brown hair and ice blue eyes. The tall young man wore a mask that covers the lower half of his face. He wore a black turtleneck and black jeans.

He walked over to the corner.

“Hello.” Din said, “What you like to order?”

“Hello. I would like an iced, Ristretto, 10 shot, venti, with breve, 5 pump vanilla, 7 pump caramel, 4 Splenda, poured, not shaken. Oh…I and a plain black tea.” The man said.

Din said, “Alright. Alright. What is a good name for your order?”

“Paz.” He simply said as he pays for the drinks.

Din nods and gets to work on the drinks with the help of his friend, Bo-Katan. Paz steps aside, sitting at the booth and waits for his order. He pulls out his phone and starts texting someone. Din side eyes Paz, this man is perfect and mysterious. His ice blue eyes, you can easily get lost in them… Din sighs softly.

“Watch’a thinkin’ about Din.” Bo said startling him.

“N-nothing.” Din said still making the coffee and tea, “Um…”

“You staring at the customer…Paz.” Bo gently nudges him.

Din’s face went red, “No!’ He whispers shouts, “W-why would I do that!?”

“Because he’s kinda handsome.” Bo tells him.

Kinda!? More like very! “S-shut up.” Din huffs and finishes making the coffee. “Order for Paz.”

Paz gets up where he is and takes the coffee and tea “Thank you. Have a nice day.”

“You too sir.” Din said, feeling nervous.

Paz left the shop. Din felt his heart fluttering covering his face with his hands. God…I feel like I’m floating on air…

“I felt the same way about me wife Din. Remember that.” Bo said to him.

“Right…” Din trails off, great I have a crush on a guy I barely met…

Paz walked quickly to get out of the rain, he is luck he brought he umbrella. He runs into his book store.

“Sorry I’m late. I over slept again.” Paz said loudly.

“About time you arrive.” Axe said.

“I brought your abomination of a drink to you.” Paz said handing him his coffee and he took a sip of his tea.

“Nah, bruh. Your drink is an abomination, you’re only drinking a plain black tea.” Axe points out.

“It’s good. I like how it has practically no flavor.” Paz said heading over to the counter.

“You see! That is what I’m saying!” Axe said.

“If you don’t want me to bounce off the walls I’ll stick to tea.” Paz said.

Axe was about to say something, but he just shut his mouth. Looking away angry. Paz couldn’t help but to chuckle at his friend’s reaction.

The bookstore was officially opened and people began to walk in. Paz and Axe help them. Paz would help the customer get a book from a high shelf, get the book check and bought for them. Axe help them find a certain book or genre.

Din sighs thinking about Paz. He just had to find out more about him. Did have a girlfriend or a boyfriend? Where did he work? More questions filled Din’s head as the day went on. He stay focused, making drinks.

“Din don’t worry we will find your ‘boyfriend’ soon.” Bo said, “Bit not in a creepy way. Just ask him questions the next time he comes in.”

Din sighs “It’s not that easy…”

“How?” She questions him.

“I feel like when I look into his eyes. I would get lost and he is imitating yet not. His gaze is powerful-“ Din keeps talking until Bo interrupts him.

“Easy there. We will get find a way so you can talk to him…without fainting.” Bo said.

Din rolls his eyes blushing a bit, “Yeah, yeah, yeah…”

The day goes by fast. Paz and Axe close up the bookstore for tonight and parted ways. Axe heads home, while Paz heads to the cemetery. Din and Bo also close up the coffee shop for tonight. The two friends parted ways for tonight. Bo heads back home to her wife. Din heads home also, wanting to find more about Paz.

“Finally home.” Din said as he enters his apartment.

Din grads his computer and starts looking up Paz. He finds out Paz is rich. Which is a surprise for Din. He finds out Paz’s father owns his own company, practically an empire. Then he reads something heartbreaking, it was about Paz’s mother. She died to an illness.

Reading more about the Vizsla family.

He finds out Paz owns a book store. It’s just a few miles away from his coffee shop. Closing the computer. He decided he would see Paz tomorrow. Just hoped he wouldn’t be creeped out because he looked him up on the web…

#star wars #the mandalorian #paz vizsla #din djarin #paz x din #pazdin #fanfic #cafe au #modern au #mr pazzie writing

[dino-fart]

The Princess and Her Galaxy | Chapter 2: Caught

Summary + Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Pairing: Bo-Katan x Female!Reader x Din Djarin

Genre: Romance, SMUT 18+ Only

Chapter Summary: It’s a fun challenge that Bo has given you, to keep quiet while the guests sleep. Can you do it? Or will Bo’s actions be too much for you?

The two of you were naked on the throne and Bo-Katan had the strap on over her hips. You were under her in a missionary position as she had a grip on your hip. Your legs were spread and resting on Bo-Katan’s hips. Her hand was over your mouth to muffle your moans as she was thrusting the strap-on in and out of your pussy. Your eyes rolled back at the force of each thrust. 

You loved it when she was rough with you, she always knew how to please you and went out of her way to do so. Bo-Katan smirked seeing this and moved her hand away to kiss you. She slipped her tongue in your mouth and you cupped her face. Her thrusts sped up and her hands moved to pinch and flick your hard nipples. You arched your back off of the throne and bit down on her lower lip. 

She chuckled and pulled back to look at you, “Tell you what, love, if you can keep quiet while I finish fucking you then you can sit on the throne while I eat you out”. 

You gasped softly and gripped her shoulders, “A-And if I can’t?” 

“Then I fuck you under the stars, out in the open, your face buried in the cold stone. And I won’t let you cum.” Bo-Katan smirked. You bit your lip hard to stifle your moans at the sheer thought of it. To be honest, both sounded good except for the no cumming part. Your princess sat up on her knees and pistoned the strap on inside of you. You covered your mouth with your hand to muffle the sound of your screams. “So good...” She whispered softly. 

Din sat there on the bed with his helmet off. He looked over to see Grogu fast asleep. He was jealous at how easily the foundling could sleep. Din decided to take a walk and put his helmet back on. He walked out of the room and quietly shut the door. 

Bo-Katan was so lost in making you cum that she didn’t realize the sound of her thrusts echoed throughout the room. Din walked up the steps that led to the throne room and stopped when he heard the noise. “Bo? Are you...Alright?” He called out. The two of you froze when you heard his voice. Bo-Katan covered your mouth. 

She took a deep breath, “Yes. I’m fine. Why are you awake?” 

“I couldn’t sleep...Guess I’m not the only one.” He chuckled lightly and continued to walk toward the back of the throne. 

“No need to come any closer. Din Djarin. Remember I am allowing you to stay under the grace of my medic. Don’t push it.” Bo-Katan warned. Your eyes were wide at the realization that he made come around to see the scene. You looked to your lover who was also worried. 

“She’s your medic?” Din said and stayed put. 

“Yes.” 

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this...She’s...Very beautiful.” 

“That she is.” Bo-Katan chuckled and gazed at you lovingly. You gazed back and moved up to sit on her lap. You wrapped your arms around her shoulders and brought her head to your neck. 

“You’re lucky...To have someone so kind with you...” Din said. He sounded sad and lonely. 

“If you’re looking for someone to mend your lonely heart, maybe we can have some kind of arrangement?” Bo-Katan said and pressed gentle kisses along your neck. You began to rock against the strap-on and ran your hands through her hair. She thrusted up at you roughly and you let out a soft gasp. Din was silent at her question and began to walk around the throne. When he did, he froze when he saw the scene before him.

You gasped in shock and Bo-Katan sighed in annoyance. “I told you not to come around.” She shook her head and embraced you tightly to cover you as much as possible. You turned as red as a rose as your eyes met Din’s visor. 

Din turned around with his back to the both of you, “I-I’m sorry.” 

“You should be. Sneaking up on us then wanting to take my lover away.” She thrusted up into you again and this time you shouted her name softly. 

“I’m going...S-Sorry...” Din repeated and turned around to walk away. Yet he couldn’t, through his visor, he watched your beautiful face gasp and moan to Bo-Katan’s movements. He found himself standing there, palming his rock-hard erection. You shyly looked at him and saw what he was doing. 

“Are you still here?” Bo-Katan said and turned her head to see what he was doing. She chuckled and gestured for him to come closer. “Tell you what Din, I’m feeling generous. If my lover agrees, I’ll let her take care of your erection.” 

Din’s cheek heated up at the thought and let out a strained answer, “A-Are you sure?” 

Bo-Katan turned to you and you nodded. “The thing is, Din, she thinks you’re cute. And whatever my love wants, I will get her.” She kissed you passionately. You smiled and kissed her back and moved off of her. You walked over to Din and went down on your knees. Din blushed hard seeing your beautiful naked form. 

He felt his heart beat out of his chest as you moved your hands over his belt. Bo-Katan laid back on the throne and took the strap-on off. She began to rub her clit as she watched you. Din removed his belt and pulled down his pants. “You’re sure...Right?” Din asked again. 

“Yes, I am.” You said softly. 

Stars even your voice was heavenly! 

“Cyar'ika (Darling)...” Din moaned when your lips wrapped around his cock. You stroked his shaft while you sucked on his tip. Din moved his hands to push your hair back off of your shoulders. You bobbed your head up and down on the length of his cock. Din let out a loud moan and grinded his hips against your mouth. 

Bo-Katan parted her lips to moan at how wonderful you were sucking his cock. You went faster and he wrapped your hair around his gloved hand as he moved his hips in rhythm of your movements. You swirled your tongue around his cock and moaned at the taste of him. Din felt his face getting hot as he was close to his orgasm. He let out a grunt and looked down at you. “I’m going to cum...” He warned you and sure enough, a few seconds later, he came in your mouth. 

You swallowed every drop and pulled back from his cock. You pressed a few kisses along his shaft and you stood up. You wanted to take his helmet off to see him better but he was quick to grab your wrists. “I-I’m sorry...I can’t.” He said softly and cupped your face. 

“You are so good at denying yourself happiness.” Bo-Katan smirked and sat up on the throne. You gently wrapped your hands over his and leaned in to press a kiss on his helmet where his lips would be. Din panted softly and gazed at you. He knew at that moment, he was wrapped around your finger with just one look. He gently pulled away from you and pulled up his pants. 

You walked over to Bo-Katan and she sat you backward on her lap. Your breasts are in full view to Din and your ass is pressed up against her hips. “Once you decide to stop being foolish, come back and maybe she’ll give you more~” She slapped your ass hard. You moaned softly and looked at Din as her lips traveled up your neck. Your lips parted and you grinded your hips against hers. 

Bo-Katan moved one hand over your breasts and the other between your legs to stroke your clit. Din watched and felt a strong pull to you. But he stopped himself from walking any closer. “Thank you...I will leave you two alone.” Din swiftly turned away and rushed back to the guest room. 

“S-So does that mean I lost?” You moaned at Bo-Katan’s movements. 

“Mmm, I’ll let it go since I was the one fucking you hard.” She smirked and nipped your earlobe. 

You giggled and bit your lip, “I hope Din comes by again.” 

“Mmm, I hope so too, it’ll be fun...Now, my sexy medic, I’m not done with you~” She flipped you over and laid you down on the throne, and kissed you passionately. 

Tagging: @deepbatched, @vikingqueen28, @leonkennedyslefthand, @stewardofningishzida, @icytrickster17, @onlinecemetery, @marki-moo0, @absolute-not-original, @creamecafe, @scrubb, @nightingal3-tales, @alliethedaydreamer, @strangesthirdeye, @alexa-33, @zombiedixon89, @sunnsettee, @deliciousfestsalad, @kiaradaniell, @freyafriggafrey, @criticalroleobssedperson, @avengersfan25, @lunamoonbby, @androgynouspersonapricotfan, @foxcantswim, @namorkawaiiwife, @starkiller-queen, @kyuupidwrites, @luciamajer, @renatas10, @ayamenimthiriel, @gaiagurl05, @dipsylou, @pinkthick, @hansai, @andywinter16, @iambored24601, @3-cheese-tortellini, @cumbrbatchbenedict, @ironstrange1991, @aribas-stuff, @rianumochi, @vibaracal, @lostpirateinwonderland​

#din djarin x reader #bo katan x reader

[amiedala]

SOMETHING HOLY

CHAPTER 2: Fault Line

WARNINGS: explicit sexual content, power play, canon-compliant violence

SUMMARY: "When I say devour, cyar’ika,” he says, pressing down until the stars multiply, “I mean destruction. Can you handle that?”

“Yes,” Nova squeaks, breathless, air taken right out of her lungs.

“I don’t think you can.”

She feels dizzy. This is exactly what she wanted, this devastation. This devastation that loves her. This devastation that’s carved out a place of its soul for her, this devastation that she knows by name.

“I can take it,” Nova whispers, whines, into the shattering green dark of this place around them. “I can take anything.”

Din smiles down on her, bright enough to shatter the stars above. “That’s my girl.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE: HAPPY SOMETHING HOLY SATURDAY!!! a little late, but she's got the spirit ;) hope you love it!

If you're new here, Something More & Something Deeper are the first installments in this series, available on here & ao3!

The fault line glimmers and cracks, swallowing pieces of them all. Nova can feel it—a seismic, vantablack change, desperate and leaching. She grabs hold of Din’s arm, stumbles toward Bo-Katan, just trying to reunite all of them, to hold onto pieces before they fracture.

Ezra Bridger’s frantic message is playing and replaying in front of them, azure, desperate. 

“What,” Bo-Katan states, just as plainly as before, “the fuck.” 

“I don’t know,” Nova murmurs, but the hair on the back of her neck is standing up, full tilt. “Play it again.” 

“It’s playing on a loop,” Bo-Katan hisses, low but not angry. Nova ignores her. 

“If you're watching this,” Ezra repeats, for what may be the tenth time, “that means I’m too late.” He pauses, hair swinging in his face before he looks over his shoulder, “and you guys need to run.” 

Nova swallows. That frantic, frenetic expression on his blue face—she’s worn it. She’s seen it in her head. She’s seen it in the mirror. 

Something moves at the corner of the hologram. Nova watches it blur and obscure, then disappear entirely. A blaster shot, maybe? The sharp gunsmoke of light flits by, fleeting, going, gone. 

Primea is so quiet. The silence is so loud, pressing into their eardrums like an oil slick. There’s no frequency here—like the planet has been glassed and reduced to nothing, yet is still masquerading like there’s life. Nova shivers, even though she’s not particularly cold. 

“‘Too late’,” Din mutters, and it’s the first thing he’s said since they found the hologram. Three sets of eyes find him, silver and reflective, helmet cocked to the side. “What’s too late? To save Ezra’s life?” 

Panic jolts across Nova’s heart, bisecting it, dropping it into her belly. “No,” she says, but it wavers, coming out more like a question. “No,” she repeats, stronger this time, “I would have felt it if he were gone.”

“Was there more with the ship?” Wedge murmurs, hand on his chin, thumb brushing over his bottom lip. It’s a repeated action, one that reminds Nova so much of her father that she has to look away. “Was it just Ezra who… escaped? Or does that mean that the Chimaera and her forces are still out there?” 

“They’re out there.” Bo-Katan’s still staring at the hologram. “But there are no forces. Just them.” 

At this, everyone’s expression shifts. Wedge looks surprised. Nova’s eyes narrow. And Din’s head snaps over to her. 

“I thought you said you didn’t know who—” 

“I lied,” Bo-Katan says, and the word cracks in half. “I—”

But the earth beneath them shifts, and all of them move. Forward, together—tossed against each other like a moorless ship, heaving over the waves. Nova yells as she’s pitched into Din, as the smoking escape pod’s floor cracks beneath them. It’s such a physical manifestation of how she's feeling that at first, Nova doesn’t quantify it as true, as reality. A giant, gaping maw opens up through the steel floor. Nova screams, grabbing an arm, a leg, wrenching her people back, away from the mouth coming out of the silt and salt, suddenly immobilized with fear. 

“Grab the hologram!” Wedge roars, kicking off the sideways wall to reach it, a blinking thing—almost like a bounty puck, Nova muses, like her mind can’t focus on the danger at hand. 

Together, with Herculean effort, the four of them sift through the cracking ship, avoiding teeth as massive as their forearms, running for the opening that once used to be a door. The escape pod is tiny, and they fall out of the wreckage—one, two, three, four, in quick succession—and shoot towards the hills where they came from. Wedge is still holding that beacon in his hand, blinking softly, a satellite unaffected by the seismic change. 

Something is wrong. Nova can feel it in the air, a chittering, screeching pulse coming from the creature behind them—underneath them. Is it entirely from the creature? She can’t tell. The white, salt-cracked ground is fracturing still, and Nova stares down at it shuddering underneath her, completely unmoored. 

“Faster!” Bo-Katan roars through the modulator, and they all try, feeling the earth shake beneath them. Nova isn’t a fast enough runner—her legs are too short, her hips are too full—and the rest of them outstride her. Bo-Katan is built, but lithe; Wedge is still tactically trained from the days the Rebellion was active, and Din—well, Din is an optical illusion, a bullet made of beskar. Hulking, tall, yes, but nimble, still built for running like it’s aerosolized in his blood. 

Suddenly, something wraps around her waist, and Nova shrieks, a loud, guttural yell that splits the air in front of them. 

“It’s me,” Din yells—no, he’s not yelling, they’re just soaring through the air and his voice is cutting through the sound of the wind, propelled up by jet fuel strapped to his back, “it’s me, sweet girl—”

Nova sobs, fractures, feeling completely unhinged, unglued. She sinks into Din’s steel grip, an iron trap, burying her face in the beskar. They’re flying horizontally, alongside where Bo-Katan has plucked Wedge off his feet, trying to gain velocity and move vertically, but her small jetpack isn’t strong enough for two people. 

The monster behind them is sneering, huffing—a scaly, terrible thing, made entirely of shards of ice and salt, a predator designed to blend in with its wasteland. Nova can feel the way the ground is still shaking, even though they’re off of it. 

“Maker,” she says, the word ripped straight out of her mouth, and then panic seizes her again. “Grogu—” she cries, and she pounds against Din’s pauldron. He’s so tiny, so impossibly small—he wouldn’t even register as food to this hulking creature, he wouldn’t even be a snack— 

And then they’re rounding on the ship, Bo-Katan and Wedge lagging slightly behind, and Nova screams out, looking down at the creature again—

“Let everything run out of you backwards.” 

They’re Luke’s words, but in Ezra’s voice, and it’s like the two of them materialize and possess her. The answer is so simple. Nova can’t believe she didn’t think of it back there. She does, closing her eyes, tuning out the rattling of her skull, the fear in her bones. Slowly, carefully, she reaches out a hand from over Din’s shoulder, pointing it at the monster still shaking the ground, and pushes it forward until the earth stops threatening to fall apart.

She’s not strong enough—not alone, not by a long shot—but it slows the creature down, letting the four of them close the distance between them and the ship, enough for Bo-Katan to storm the cockpit and lift them up out of there, enough so that Nova can pry Grogu from his crib and press the scent of his skin to her nose, enfold him in her arms— 

They get out, but just barely. 

It’s a blur. Nova’s heart doesn’t peter back down to a normal range until they’re out of the atmosphere and off of Primea’s surface entirely, and even then, panic still lives inside of her, gilding that fault line, licking at the cracks. 

*

None of them speak for an abnormally long time. Fighting off a monster—a true monster, one made of salt and bone and teeth, not one who walks the galaxy on two legs—was somehow entirely unexpected. Nova’s still cold, clutching Grogu to her chest. Bo-Katan and Wedge are silent in the cockpit. Din’s quiet is otherworldly, pressing—but he doesn’t dare breach that silence, the one that all of them are suddenly slaves to, the hologram of Ezra’s panic still blinking on the dashboard. 

For what feels like seconds—or days, time isn’t solid out here—no one speaks. No one speaks at all. Then, finally, Wedge breaches the barrier between the cockpit and the back, outfitted in orange, lines in his face pronounced. “We have to stop for fuel,” he says, gently.

“Where?” Nova asks, and it comes out pleading. They’re so out of their depth out here. Ezra is nowhere to be found. It’s the five of them against impending doom, and right now, Nova feels like the impending doom is winning. Grogu coos against the swell of her chest, and she smooths a hand over his ears like her mother used to over her hair. 

“Soon.” It isn’t the answer to the question she asked—it was the one to the hidden, obscured question, the one hiding from the light. They’re running out of fuel. They’re running out of time. And the Unknown Regions are a wilderness pit, someplace destitute and unlawful, and there’s no information on where fuel even is, or if this hole of blank space is devoid of anything except crushing, complete darkness.

Nova reads in between the lines. They’re really low. 

She cracks her sore neck to the side to relieve some of the pressure, trying to regain control like she’s in the pilot’s seat on Kicker. She rolls her shoulders back, considering. “I don’t know where to go,” she says, finally, coming up with nothing. “Ahch-To is out here, somewhere, but it’s just… mountains and ocean. What little fuel Luke has, he needs for his own X-Wing.” 

Nova doesn’t miss how Wedge stiffens, blinks, readjusts at Luke’s name. “We need fuel, Nova,” he says, lowly, “soon.” 

Swallowing, Nova regards him in the half-light. That prick on the back of her neck is back, like eyes she can’t see are watching her. “I don’t know where to go.” 

Din’s voice, sighing like honey through the modulator, stops them both in their redundant conversation. “I do.” He exhales, low and despondent. “But none of you will like it.” 

*

They land on a planet called Parnassos. Nova can feel the anxiety, taut against Din’s hulking frame. It’s curled inside his belly in the same way it’s curled inside of hers. The atmosphere is toxic, not enough to kill you, but enough to hurt. Din and Bo-Katan have pressurized air in their helmets. Nova and Wedge aren’t as lucky. 

“You should stay here,” Din expresses as Bo-Katan drives her ship down to the planet’s smoggy, smoky surface. 

“Absolutely not,” Nova hisses. 

Din’s helmet is still on, but if it wasn’t, Nova knows that he’d be shooting her an exasperated expression. “Novalise—”

“We need someone to get fuel,” she whispers. “And we need to get food, too. That means two groups of people. And I don’t think any of su should go off alone.” 

“I’ll stay,” Wedge volunteers, nudging his way into the conversation. “I’ll stay here with Grogu. That way, if all of you need a fast exit… I’ll be here.” 

Nova eyes him. There’s a stiffness to Wedge that she hasn’t ever seen before, a rigidity that’s seeped in like poison. Primea was so unsettling—a ghost town with something scarier lurking under the surface—and it’s affected all of them in different ways. This is Wedge the war general, not Wedge her friend. “Okay,” she agrees, softly, wrapping her shawl around Grogu’s sleeping body, swathing him in orange. Reluctantly, she hands him off to Wedge, cooing in his sleep. 

Bo-Katan emerges in the doorway after she’s landed the ship on Parnassos’ rocky, unyielding surface. “Ready?” 

Nova’s breath hitches. If the atmosphere is toxic—they can’t be out there for long. She can’t be out there for long. Not without armor, not without a failsafe—

Bo-Katan tosses a blur of orange and grey through the air. Nova catches it—her helmet. Her Mandalorian helmet, the one she initially said she couldn’t don, the one that made her feel like an imposter instead of a leader. She stares down at it for a second, considering, and then slides it over her head, the airlock hissing her into safety. Din grabs something off the dashboard, blinking. Ezra’s hologram. 

“Wedge, if anything happens—”

“It won’t,” he says, firmly. “Just get out there, get fuel, get food, get back. Four easy steps.” 

“What if we run into something?” Nova asks, her own voice distorted through the modulator. Chills erupt across her arms, down her spine. 

“We won’t,” Din says, sighing, “You’ll see.”  

Parnassos’s surface is war-torn, haunted. It’s the first thing Nova feels—not sees, feels. Visceral and raw, like no one is supposed to be here. 

She shivers, stepping carefully over the terrain, rocks and glass crunching underneath their feet. For what feels like hours, the three of them walk in tandem silence, a multi-headed animal, a desperate triumvirate. Bo-Katan is precise in her movements. Din is walking like he’s hunting something. Nova hangs back, eyes tracking their heat signatures, their movements, trying to forget the feeling like she’s the dividing line come to life, the physical representation of where Din and Bo-Katan stand. 

For miles, they walk, traversing difficult terrain. Large geyser pits spit clouded, toxic steam.The planet is red, but muted, like whatever anger used to be held in the atmosphere left a long time ago. Din steps on ahead, a man on a mission, knowing where he’s headed. Bo-Katan stumbles and Nova catches her arm, latching onto her the second she falters.

“I’m fine.” 

“I’m not.”

Bo-Katan stops to study Nova, cocking her head to the right. 

“What the hell did you mean back there?” 

Bo-Katan clears her throat through the modulator, moving on. Nova walks in lockstep, heart hammering wildly.  “I know that the Chimaera wasn’t fully armed. It was just Ezra and who he disappeared with.” 

Nova blinks, brow furrowing. “How do you know that?”

Bo-Katan doesn’t speak for a long time. “Nova, I wasn’t intentionally keeping it from you.” 

Running her tongue over her teeth, Nova tries to read between the lines. “Why didn’t you say something sooner, then?” 

“I did.” Bo-Katan stops. Nova can feel her stare. “I told you Ezra disappeared in the ship with someone who sounds terrifying.” 

“Who?” Nova asks, pressing down, trying to hit Bo-Katan’s pressure point, to get past the guarded exterior, to pry it free. “I don’t understand—you told us so much back on Mandalore, Bo-Katan. If you know who he disappeared with—” 

“I didn’t know him myself,” Bo-Katan interrupts, “I just…heard stories.” 

“What stories?” Din is so far ahead of them at this point, Nova fears losing him to the smog. “Please, Bo-Katan, I understand he’s…scary, but we have no hope of beating him if we don’t work together.”

“He’s not human. Near-human, maybe, but something completely…different. He doesn’t have a conscience, but he’s not unhinged. He’s brilliant. Ruthless. Taking apart the Rebellion one piece at a time.” 

Nova steps carefully around a geyser, considering. “How do I not know who this man is?”

Bo-Katan steps up over a boulder. Din’s armor glints in the reddish haze in front of them. “He ran in different circles than you did. Orbited your Rebellion, but never touched it.”

“Why?”

“He disappeared with Ezra into deep space before any of the big battles happened.” 

Nova stops. 

“Keep moving,” Bo-Katan says, harshly, “we can’t linger.”

Nova’s legs are so tired. Her mind is exhausted. She wants to rub her eyes, but she can’t reach under her helmet, can’t breathe in the tainted air. She can feel a threat hanging against the horizon, and it’s not just the haunted setting of the planet. She feels watched, like whatever they’re doing is ten steps behind, like someone’s eyes are assessing their every move.

“Everything he’s done, though,” Bo-Katan continues, once they’re through a rock outcropping, “it lived in the Empire. And I can still feel it.” 

Nova blinks. “Wait, what do you mean?”

Bo-Katan stops, just for a second, and Nova can sense the uneasy expression on her face. “I think whatever the First Order is, whatever they’re trying to do, it’s out here. In the Unknown Regions.”

“Bo-Katan—”

“Everywhere we’ve been has been wrong,” Bo-Katan says, finally, gaining speed. Nova can’t keep up, physically or mentally, “and I think there’s something bigger at play here.” 

“Like what?” 

Bo-Katan considers. “Like we’re walking into a trap.” 

A terrible, awful beat of thrumming silence. “Whose trap?” Nova asks, her voice small, scared.

“That’s the problem,” Bo-Katan sighs, “I don’t know.” 

*

They’ve only been out here for an hour, but it feels like days. Nova’s sweating, chilled to the bone by the unsettling planet they’re walking, the threat literally hanging in the air. But she doesn’t dare unzip her jacket, doesn’t try to let any of the poison in. She keeps moving, trudging after her two experienced Mandalorians, thinking about anything other than that feeling of being watched, of playing right into someone’s trap. 

Get out there.

Get fuel.

Get food. 

Get back. 

Four easy steps. Nova repeats it silently, like a mantra, like a salvation. When Din and Bo-Katan finally stop, it takes her a beat to catch up. They’re talking low and hushed. When she approaches them, Bo-Katan raises her helmeted chin. “We’re splitting up,” she declares. 

“No,” Nova answers, immediately. “Not a good idea.”

“You and Din go get food,” Bo-Katan says, ignoring her entirely, “I’ll get fuel.” 

“Bo-Katan,” Nova says, low and desperate, “there’s no edible food here.”

“There’s a town center,” Din says, “and inside, there’s a greenhouse. Right at the center.” 

Nova looks at him. “How do you know?” 

Din shifts uncomfortably. “I… I’ll tell you on the way.” He looks back at Bo-Katan. “Fuel is at the outpost, down the main road, to the left. Be quick. If you run into anyone—”

“Shoot first,” Bo-Katan says, nodding. “Ask questions later.” 

They have an unspoken agreement, one Nova isn’t privy to. She watches as Bo-Katan disappears into the smog, the straight ramrod of her back dematerializing until she’s completely gone. Swallowing, Nova turns back to Din. “I don’t like this,” she says, trying to sound derisive, clear, but her voice shakes. 

He brings a gloved palm up to cup her helmeted cheek. “I knew you wouldn’t.” He sighs. “I don’t either, but the rest of the planets out here are either wastelands or… worse.” He turns on his heel, making his way to the center of the decaying, toxic city. Nova follows him, outlining the shape of the man she loves under the armor, trying to uncover what lurks in his silence, what’s buried underneath. 

“Din,” she chances, after a handful of minutes descending deep into the ruins of the city, “how do you know this place?”

He sighs again, long and languid. Nova waits, patiently. 

“I used to live here,” he says, finally, sourly.

Nova stops in her tracks. “What?”

“It was for a short time,” Din continues, scaling a small boulder. His boots crunch as he lands, lifting up an arm to help Nova climb over the obstacle, visor trained ahead instead of on her. “Back… back when I was with—”

“Xi’an,” Nova supplies, softly. Din flinches. She doesn’t miss it. “You… lived out here? In this wasteland?”

“It was only for a few weeks,” Din says, turning left, right, in quick succession. The buildings around them are crumbled, in ruin. Nova doesn’t know if it was from the atomic devastation or if it was simply from disuse. “I never took my armor off. Her skin—her brother’s, too—they aren’t affected like humans are. It didn’t bother them, living in a radioactive zone.” He huffs a laugh, mirthless, so unlike him. “Guess that’s because they were radioactive, too.” 

Nova looks up at him. “Din,” she starts, completely out of her depth, “how long?” 

He cocks his head to the side, refusing to look at her. “What do you mean?” Together, they twine deeper into the city center, the buildings less and less destroyed. Nova can glimpse glass in the distance—the greenhouse, she assumes, but she doesn’t mention it aloud.

“How long were you trapped here?” she asks, softly, and with that, he turns, abrupt, enclosing Nova against a crumbling brick wall. 

“I wasn’t trapped,” Din spits, and it’s totally unlike him, a crack straight down the middle, that Nova’s breath catches in the hollow of her throat, body slamming into the brick. “I liked it, Nova. I was a machine back then. I wasn’t—I wasn’t who I am now. I loved the hunt. I was as ruthless as they were. I liked it.” He steps forward, body flush against hers, and Nova swallows, her mouth running bone-dry under the helmet. “I am not good, Novalise.” 

Tears spring to Nova’s eyes, warring with the dark plunge of excitement that hungers low in her belly, desperate, unhinged, voracious. “You are now,” she manages, “and whatever you’ve done doesn’t scare me—”

“I did what I needed to survive,” Din snarls, “and I liked it.” 

“Din—”

“Your lover was a killer,” Din croons, and Nova stares up at him, that vantablack, desperate feeling unhinging once more, threatening to consume her like it did in her dream. “Does that scare you, cyar’ika?” 

Nova lifts her chin up to meet his, throwing her shoulders back, stepping forward. “You could never scare me.” 

“Oh, that’s not true,” Din says, and Nova can hear the wicked smile in his voice, “you just like to be scared.” 

Want is a desperate, knifing thing. Nova reaches up, wanting to pull Din closer, needing to have his body against hers, even in this torrential wasteland, even in this place of radioactive air— 

“Novalise,” Din says, but he’s not pressed up against her, he’s not crooning, he’s not haunted. Nova blinks once, twice, then—the smoke clears, and he’s a few feet away, head cocked concernedly, arm stretched out to pull her forward. They’re at the greenhouse, glass gloomy and reflective against the clouded red sky. 

“What—?” Nova looks back, back at the place Din had just had her anchored against the wall, but they aren’t there. Nothing that just happened was real—or if it was, it was minutes ago, not right before—the flash cut scares her, sends adrenaline rocketing through her veins. She shakes her head, trying to clear it, looking back up at the man she loves, warm concern written all over his hidden face. 

“Are you seeing things?” Din asks, low and worried, and Nova’s cheeks flare with heat. “It happens, it’s the air, you need to keep your helmet on—”

“No,” Nova says, trying to sound convincing, pointing up at the greenhouse. “Can we get in?” 

Din nods, leading her around the back of the building. Nova looks over her shoulder, half-expecting evil to materialize, for something horrible to show its face to her, glinting in the awful amber haze. Nothing does.

They’re alone out here, alone with each other and all their ghosts, alone with the fear of something happening. Against a razor’s edge, both hidden and glinting. Alone with want, with hunger, with fear.

Nova doesn’t know what scares her more. 

The greenhouse is exactly what it’s advertised as—green, lush, sprawling. A tiny sanctuary in the middle of a war torn city, a ghost town, a wasteland.

It’s beautiful, the greenness of it, the life growing here. Tiny white flowers dance across the ground, even without a breeze. Nova marvels at that, at the little life still growing here, after all the devastation. 

“Look for things we can eat,” Din says, the toe of his boot softly nudging her calf. “Divide and conquer?” 

Nova nods. “How much should we take?” 

Din looks around, visor trained on the reddish haze of the outside world against the frosted windows. “Everything we can.” 

Nova swallows, looking at the expanse of greenery spread across the floor in front of them. Large vines crawl up a staircase, spiraling up to another level. Those tiny, white flowers, signets of peace, lean back and forth in the windless greenhouse, driven by something other than the breeze. Tall grasses grow every few feet, guarding the pockets of edible greenery, of carrots and radishes and things that grow in the rich, deep soil, undisturbed by the horror here. 

“Shouldn’t we leave something?” Nova asks, “for anyone else who travels here?”

Din regards her for a second. “No one else will travel here,” he says, finally, his voice quiet, “and if they do, they’re someone who deserves to starve.” He turns away to gather his own food, letting that red line tethered between the two of them go slack. Nova swallows.

Her dream was right, she concludes, as she starts to gather—peppers, mushrooms, lettuce—Din is haunted, possessed by something she can’t put her finger on, cannot name. She slips her gloves off to root through the soil untouched, and the glint of her ring catches in the low light. For a second, Nova stares down at it. It’s a testament of love, but it’s more than that—the band made of beskar, the embedded crystal glowing like a Kyber, white and glassy, otherworldly. The engagement belonged to a Nova in another universe, where the only evil she knew was Gideon, where the only love she knew was as Novalise. 

Softly, she swallows a sob, tucks it away for later. It used to be so simple—she fell in love with a Mandalorian who was a bounty hunter, between missions and quarries, out in the crush of space. This life they live now—all this, and heaven too—is desperate, wanting, belonging to forces beyond tangible reach. Before all of this, they were just a Rebel and a Mandalorian—and now the Rebel is the Jedi ruler of Mandalore and the Mandalorian is worshiping the Jedi Rebel. Things have changed—in cosmic, drastic ways—and they’re hunting for something more, something deeper, something holy—something Nova doesn’t even know exists.

She would like it too, though. Stars, she wants it to. 

Tucking her ring with the stone down, she gathers food, stuffing it into the small pack Bo-Katan gave her before they disembarked the ship. She layers the smaller vegetables within the leaves of lettuce and cabbage, unfurling them enough to tuck them in safely. Din has disappeared over the other side of the greenhouse, form rustling in the tall grass. Her section is picked clean, and Nova turns to head up the spiral staircase, metal preserved in this tiny safe haven, but creaking with disuse.

Din doesn’t turn as she rises, but Nova can see him, on his knees, sifting through soil for more food. Love springs to life in her heart as she watches him, the hunter—gathering, bending to the earth below them. She forces herself to keep moving, keep rising, keep going upward—want seizes in her belly again, and she would rather ignore it than find out it was never real at all. 

The second floor is darker, even though it’s closer to where the sun would be, if the sun could shine on Parnassos at all. Large panels cover the roof, but they’re not to let the light in. They refract in the darkness, like a funhouse of mirrors, something Nova’s read about but has never actually seen. She makes her way through the thick vines and trees above them, navigating the haphazard maze of boxed-in gardens, flowers and thorns overflowing and running into each other. Freesia, marigolds, tulips, carnations, rhododendrons—thousands of flower species from planets all over the galaxy tumbling together, hidden from the sunlight but shining just the same. 

Nova’s breath catches in her throat as handfuls of Yavin violets, impossibly purple, spring up from between the vibrant oranges and deep blues, blooming just for her. She leans down to smell them, forgetting that she’s wearing her helmet, forgetting why she’s wearing her helmet—

Nova disengages the airlock, completely focused on the flowers calling her home. She doesn’t think about the toxic air, the radioactive wasteland outside, if the greenhouse is safe enough to breathe in. She touches the tips of her bare fingers to the skin of the flower, the petal recognizing her by name, that ultraviolet light pulsing through the stem, so utterly alive against all this wreckage. 

It calls out to her. It knows her by name. 

Nova falls sideways into a vision. It’s slippage, so seamless that she doesn’t realize it at first—but then that unsettling feeling materializes, slips back in, making itself a home underneath her skin. 

Insidious, Nova recognizes, that’s the word. Creeping into her bones, her marrow, until she herself is tainted. 

A doorway. In the vision, there’s always a doorway. It’s so familiar, something ancient, something brand-new. It knows her all the same. Everything in the greenhouse fades away, shearing into something dark and deep-blue. Laughter echoes in the background, not like a whisper—like she’s too far away to hear it up close. Nova shivers, turning, trying to get back to that open doorway, trying to step back towards reality. 

But she doesn't want to relinquish her grip on this otherness, not yet. She wants to scry into it, wants to find its absolution. 

Nova spins, feeling herself drip through space. Suddenly, everything is black and white. She’s on a dais, but it's not the one back on Jedha, and it’s not the one from the woods in Naator. It’s a reflecting pool, in disguise as a mirror. She looks at herself, expecting to see Andromeda, Novalise, something she’s been before.

She doesn’t. 

The woman staring back to her is Nova with all of her Nova-ness missing. Her eyes are haunted, black, obsidian. The color has seeped out of her face, everything in grayscale. She flickers the fingers on her left hand—in possession or in recognition, Nova’s not sure. She feels her own hand come up to meet her vision, her alter-ego, to touch the looking glass and reconcile the differences.

Her shadow-self pulls Nova straight through the mirror. 

“Hello, me,” she croons, hand traveling up to Nova’s face, skating across the expanse of her cheeks, tucking dark ringlets behind the shell of her ear. “I’ve been waiting for you.” 

“I am not you,” Nova manages. She feels like she’s moving through amber, or honey—suspended in place, unable to run. She has been planted into this black, rotting earth. “I will never be you.” 

Her shadow-self curls those wicked lips up into a smile. It’s devoid of emotion, shattering, a destroyed star, a thousand knives pointed in her mouth, glittering like teeth. “Don’t be so sure,” she whispers, like a hex. She shoves that same left palm into the center of Nova’s chest, sending her spiraling back through the doorway, unspooling the haunting as she goes. 

Nova thuds on the ground, hearing laughter echo and dance in the back of her skull. Like, now, it’s coming from inside her head. When she looks up, she’s in the tall grasses of Yavin, back home. Her parents are smiling down at her—Piper’s long, black hair catching in the sunlight, Arokel’s freckled face tipped back to laugh. 

“We caught you, Andromeda,” they’re saying, teasing, gilded, laughing. “We caught you!”

It morphs, and her mother’s teeth snap into Sparmau’s, clicking so close to Nova’s face. She cries, skittering backward on her hands, needing to get away, to escape—Sparmau’s palm comes up and clutches her ankle, yanking Nova back to her. “I caught you, Andromeda.” 

“You’re dead,” Nova manages, kicking her heel into Sparmau’s stomach, hard, sending her ghost sliding back to the ground, barren and dark under a thousand shining stars, winking in her favor. “You’re dead, and you can’t haunt me anymore.”

Sparmau grins. “I don’t need to. You’re doing an excellent job of it yourself.” Her teeth are so white, so poisonous. She snaps them at Nova again, once, twice. “And he’s coming for you, Novalise. He will destroy everything you love and then some.” 

Nova blinks. “Who?”

“He’s baaaaack,” Sparmau goads. “And he will tear you apart.” 

Nova rushes forward, anger surging in her chest like a live wire. “Who?” She spits again, clawing at Sparmau’s exposed skin with her nails, wanting to scissor her into ribbons, wanting to draw blood. Sparmau slips away like she’s just a ghost, disappearing like vapor in Nova’s hands. 

“You already know,” Sparmau says, her disembodied voice floating higher, higher. “You’re already losing.” 

“I have not lost!” Nova yells, but her voice sounds unhinged, dark. When the vision changes, she’s here. On Parnassos. Confused, she blinks, wiping her sleep-crusted eyes, trying to make the stars fade back into reality. Cautiously, she steps forward. There’s a giant ship in front of her—a Star Destroyer, but decidedly not the Chimaera. She doesn’t know how she knows it, but she does. Nova peers in, stepping through the metal doorway, as quiet as a whisper. 

It looks broken, worn-down. This entire planet feels haunted, she realizes, and this ship even more so. It’s reduced to an exoskeleton, but Nova can sense the evil gathering here in the dark, a schematic of what will be, rather than what once was.

She steps forward, once, twice, and the scene shifts. It’s nothingness, just the crush of the Unknown Region. Nova turns, looking over her shoulder, certain she can feel something lurking, skittering towards her in the dark. Watching her. 

This entire place is haunted.

Nova feels haunted, too. 

It shifts again. Nova peers into a tank, where a creature is curled inside. Like a fetus, but it isn’t—it looks older, a mesh of purple skin, light and violet, a terrible feeling. The tank bubbles and multiples.

Out of habit, Nova looks over her shoulders, and there’s Grogu—terrified, in chains, staring up at the tank, too, quivering. She moves forward, wanting to shield him, to protect him, to cover him from this unsettling creature—

He presses his tiny, three-fingered hand against her temple. Nova gasps, pitching backward. She sees the outline of a vision, something that looks so uncertain it has to be futuristic, has to be something that’s yet to come, not something that once was. She sees the flash of lightsabers—one that effervescent Skywalker blue, one that’s an awful angry scar of red—and that purple creature on the throne, one that’s a grown, morphed mutated version of the tiny thing in the tank, laughing high and angry.

He peers through the vision, this creature, locking eyes with her. “You,” he whispers, reaching out a clawed hand, seeming to rip Nova across the sidelines, bring her across the room to him. “You have something we want.” 

“No,” she manages.

He smiles. “Then we’ll take it from him, instead.” He points that awful hand at Grogu, summoning him—

And Nova shrieks, breaking the scene.

Now, Novalise stares down at her hands, her own hands—she knows them. They have fought off evil. They have belayed threats. They have killed and loved and tortured and saved. They’re imperfect, desperate, horrible, wonderful, a lifeline. She examines her palms, like tracing maps of the stars, finding truth in every ridge, every map. 

Nova has fought off the darkness. She can close the fault line. 

Desperately, she punches forward, trying to get her hands to ignite, to summon light, to feel the grasp of her lightsaber in her hands, to bring herself back down to earth. 

Ezra’s face materializes through the dark. Nova abandons the tether, tripping toward him, arms outstretched. 

“Where are you!” She cries, and she sounds tiny, so little, like a petulant, emotional child. “Ezra!”

“I am in every star,” he says, dreamlike, in a trace. His purple eyes are clouded, like the frosted glass of the greenhouse windows. Like he’s possessed. “I will find my way back home.” 

“Ezra,” Nova says, panting, trying to hold his wrists between her hands. He keeps slipping away, amorphous, liquid. “I need to find you. Please, we’re trying to find you—”

Lucidity snaps back into his eyes, and Ezra snaps his hands, clawed and determined, to Nova’s shoulders. “Don’t come after me.” 

Nova blinks. “Ezra,” she says, as steadily as she can manage, “we already have.”

Panic seized his face. So close to hers, so similar. Close, but not exact. “Then we’ve lost.” 

Fear lurches up in Nova’s chest. “What do you mean?”

“I kept him away as long as I could,” Ezra says, “but he’s back, and that means the galaxy is in danger.” 

Nova swallows. “The galaxy is always in danger,” she offers, trying to get him to smile, trying to coax them back from this cliff edge, back to reality. 

Ezra looks straight through her, onto some other plane of existence. “Not like this.” 

Shivering, Nova tries to move forward. Ezra’s iron grip keeps her in place. “Don’t throw it away,” he says, and all the times he’s said the same four words before are like a shock to her system, defibrillating her panicked heart. 

“I didn’t,” Nova says, gently, gesturing behind her like that can encapsulate everything that happened with Sparmau.

“This is a different kind of danger,” Ezra says, haunting, like a spell. “This is a different kind of danger.” 

Nova feels sick. “Why?”

“Can you feel the evil there?” 

She stares at Ezra, so distant, so close. “Yes.”

“Then you’re aware of what’s coming.” 

Nova can feel herself trembling. This is not what she was expecting—ever since the ground opened up underneath her to reveal rows and rows of awful, giant teeth, she’s had the feeling she’s been pulled into that open mouth, that gaping maw, that black hole. “I don’t know what’s coming,” she whispers, “do you?”

Ezra looks at her, considering. “It’s all connected,” he says, and then he’s spinning her around. A dematerialized blue face appears in front of her, red eyes, dark eyes. Nova is paralyzed with fear. He smiles at her, with the same kind of powerful, awful rows of teeth that Sparmau had, all aiming to kill. 

“Hello, Novalise,” he whispers, his voice rumbling in the dark around them, “I’ve heard so much about you.” 

Nova screams. 

“Not yet,” he croons, “save that until I can hear it for real.” 

“You’re not real,” Nova whispers like a mantra, a litany, something to protect her. “None of this is real.” 

That smile, devastating, dangerous, shines on. The rest of the stars have striked from the sky. Just Nova and this blackness and the terror in front of her. “It’s not real yet,” he says, his voice like a caress, “but it will be.” 

And Nova crashes out of the sky. 

When he grabs her, Nova yells. 

“It’s me!” Din yells, panicked, desperate, repeating himself over and over again until she’s grounded, until she recognizes the voice in front of her. “It’s me, cyar’ika, it’s just me—” 

Sobbing, Nova lurches forward, launching herself into Din’s arms, desperate, wanting, reduced to nothing except herself. 

“What happened,” Din murmurs, hands roving over her body to check for damage, for injuries. “I saw you disappear up here and a second later, you started screaming—”

“A second?”

Din stops, staring down at her under the helmet. “Yes.” 

“I saw everything,” Nova whispers, her voice shaking, coming out chopped through the modulator, “in pieces.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“It’s all connected,” Nova says, shaking in Din’s arms, shivering with the weight of it all, the horrible place that she’s stuck and moored in, remnants of the vision dueling in her head, desperate, fragmented,. “It’s all connected. Ezra, and who he brought back with him. Sparmau, and the man Ezra’s with. This planet, the Unknown Regions, Gideon, the First Order, all of it—” she stops, a sob threatening to rip her chest open, an awful shard of truth, “Maker, Din, there’s so much we have to fight—” 

“We will.”

He’s so resolute. It makes Nova ache. 

“What if we don’t?” she whispers, still so unsteady. She feels disconnected from herself, unanchored, like she’s not fully back yet. “What if we just… leave?”

Din goes deathly still. “It’s not in our blood to run from a fight.” 

“But—”

He shakes his head. “You can’t abandon everything now. You can’t run when it gets hard.” 

Tears prick at Nova’s eyes. “Din, I—”

“I once wanted to protect you from the fight,” he says, voice deep and guttural. “But I couldn’t, because you always throw yourself into it anyway.”

Nova swallows. “I don’t want to fight,” she whispers, “not all of this.” 

Din clutches her tighter, desperate, cloying. “That’s not true,” he whispers.

Nova stares up at him, her ungloved hands grabbing at the rim of his helmet, trying to pry it off. “Then bring me back,” she whispers, and the words sound familiar, but she can’t explain exactly why. “Make me see the truth.” 

“How?” Din whispers, and Nova pulls his helmet clean off, like she’s haunted, like she’s possessed by something else. Want knives through her like it did back at the alleyway, like it did once in a dream. 

“Fill me up, Din Djarin,” she breathes, fogging up the humid greenhouse air around them, “make me whole again.” Concern and desire war in Din’s eyes. Nova knows which one will win. She’s been here before. “Please,” she moans out, hungry, ravenous, nails clawing at the open expanse of his neck, “I need you.”

Three simple, little words, and Din comes unglued. 

He moves forward like he’s been possessed. His eyes flutter closed as he pulls a kiss from her open mouth, ready and wanting, desperate and unhinged. Nova sinks into his skin, leaning back into the green, open ground. This is dangerous, the air in the greenhouse obscured from the wasteland outside but still not safe—and that lurch makes Nova want it more, deeper, stronger, her fingers prying off pieces of Din’s armor as he kisses her, hungry, wanting. 

“More,” she mewls, in the dark, lush danger of the greenhouse, “more, Din, more—” 

“I’m giving you everything,” he hisses, mouth latched onto the pulse point against her neck, making the mirrored glass above them refract and reflect with a thousand versions of Nova’s expression, dressed in ecstasy, eyes rolling back in her head. “Be patient.” 

Something stills, for a second, and Nova decides it’s not enough. She reaches underneath his armor, prying more and more off, leaving beskar littered around their entwined bodies, fearless, heart thumping in her chest. 

“Do you want me,” she whispers. It’s not insecurity—it’s the opposite. But it comes out breathy and high anyways, desperate.

Din stops to stare down at her. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” he says, his voice clipped, almost angry. “I want to devour you.”

“You say that every time,” Nova sighs, bucking her hips up to feel him, to latch around his armored waist. Something about this place is goading her, making her want to hurt, riding that line between pleasure and pain, perfect, determined. 

Din’s lightning-fast. He reaches out to grab her neck, balancing it between the fingers of his hand, thumb pressed down to that sweet pulse point, the curve between pressing against her hairway, sending Novalise back up to the stars. “I would tear you apart,” he croons, “is that what you want to hear? That I’ll be on your scent, ready to destroy the world for you. When I say devour, cyar’ika,” he says, pressing down until the stars multiply, “I mean destruction. Can you handle that?”

“Yes,” Nova squeaks, breathless, air taken right out of her lungs. 

“I don’t think you can.” 

She feels dizzy. This is exactly what she wanted, this devastation. This devastation that loves her. This devastation that’s carved out a place of its soul for her, this devastation that she knows by name. 

“I can take it,” Nova whispers, whines, into the shattering green dark of this place around them. “I can take anything.” 

Din smiles down on her, bright enough to shatter the stars above. “That’s my girl.” 

It was all a trick—to bring her her strength. To bring Nova herself back. She grins back up at him, love pumping through her veins, vital, strong. 

“What if I want you to destroy me anyways,” she whispers, into the hollow of his neck, licking her tongue along his collarbone. “What happens then?”

Din’s eyes flash as she pulls away, smiling up at him, teasing him, testing him. “Is that what you want?”

“I want you,” Nova whispers, “need you, Din, please—”

“Stop talking,” he growls, and she shuts up. 

His lips on her neck feel like devotion, divinity—if this is destruction, it’s desecration. Din moves closer, closer still, pinning Nova’s body underneath his own, pieces of beskar littered around them, the other half still glittering on his body. It’s desperate, it’s reckless, it’s everything Nova needs. He moans out into the dip of her throat as she rakes her bare nails against his back, fingers clenching at the waistband of his pants, begging to pry him free.

It's so different from the wasteland outside, than the wasteland in her dreams. Nova feels that same hunger, that want calling out to her. But what was once vantablack and obsidian is green and honeyed, is her something more. This feels like it’s something else entirely, something saner—but not safer. She can feel her breathing get marred by this wasteland air, by the apocalypse waiting outside. 

“Life your hips,” Din pants into the shell of her ear. Nova’s entire body erupts in chills. She obeys. She feels it, now, the same crush that he used to pin her down with, the desperate claw he used to use on her all the way back on the Razor Crest, undone, divine. Nova feels air hit her, flush against her exposed skin, at the apex of her thighs. Din pulls everything down in the same yank, fingers scraping against the humidity of her skin, worshiping her in a way that feels sanctified instead of pious. He doesn’t give her a second of give before he pushes inside of her, all give, all take. 

“Oh,” Nova moans, the sound of it ricocheting off the open air around them, off the mirrors on the ceiling reflecting their entangled bodies. “Oh, Maker, Din—”

“Your Maker,” Din grunts, “isn’t here right now. Just me, cyar’ika.” 

Nova moans again, high and refracted back at her. She would be embarrassed if he didn’t feel so good. He’s bisecting her, driving into the hilt, using his cock as a weapon. Devastation yes, desecration—something holy between them in all this sin, all this danger. 

“Give everything to me,” he whispers, like he’s pleading. He’s no longer demanding. Somewhere, buried deep within her cunt, the roles have shifted. Now it’s Nova in charge, even as she’s being speared open by the man she loves, even as they’re doing something. Give and take, this power, this divinity unspooled between the two of them. 

Equality. 

That’s what it’s always been, with Nova and Din—push and pull, ebb and flow—but both of them are equal in measure, in power, in lust, in love. 

“More,” Nova cries out again, and Din obeys. 

“Nova,” he sighs, fisting her hair, yanking her head back. When it opens again, Nova feels her eyes roll back. “Mine, mine, mine.” 

“Yours,” she whispers, as he repeats it like a hymn, a prayer. Something beyond what she’s ever heard before. Something holy, a confessional of the flesh. 

“Gonna cum,” he whispers, and it’s ragged and split down the middle, and her legs shake as she becomes undone, too. “Gonna–”

And then they’re both painted and panting, woven together, inextricable. Nova feels everything in her skin flush, come back to life. 

“What do you want?” Din whispers, “Now that you’ve already had me.” 

Nova runs her fingers over the slope of his nose, the high points of his cheekbones. “To win.” 

Din smiles back at her, the rest of the room fading out. “I know.” 

“We’re going to find Ezra,” Nova says, tracing a finger over his eyebrow, “we’re going to figure out who he’s fighting, and we’re going to win.” 

“There you are,” Din says. “Don’t you dare lose that again.” 

Nova looks over at him, raising her eyebrows before they both put their helmets back on in tandem, ready to face the world outside, the apocalyptic wasteland on their way back to the ship, and the expanse doesn’t seem so terrible. That fault line shifts, cracks, but it right now, it feels surmountable. 

“Lose what?” 

Din reaches forward to brush his hand across her heart. “Hope.” 

He clips Ezra’s holopad to his belt, reaching out for Nova’s hand, ready to descend out of the greenhouse, to meet Bo-Katan, and return back to the ship. 

Neither of them notice the new message light blinking blue.

*

TAGLIST: @myheartisaconstellation | @fuuckyeahdad | @pedrodaddypascal | @misslexilouwho | @theoddcafe | @roxypeanut | @lousyventriloquist | @ilikethoseodds | @strawberryflavourss | @fanomando | @cosmicsierra | @misssilencewritewell | @rainbowfantasyxo |  @thatonedindjarinfan | @theflightytemptressadventure | @tiny-angry-redhead | @cjtopete86 | @chikachika-nahnah | @corvueros | @venusandromedadjarin | @jandra5075 | @berkeleybo | @solonapoleonsolo | @wild-mads | @charmedthoughts | @dindjarinswh0re | @altarsw |  @weirdowithnobeardo | @cosmicsierra | @geannad | @th3gl1tt3rgam3roff1c1al |@burrshottfirstt | @va-guardianhathaway | @starspangledwidow | @casssiopeia | @niiight-dreamerrrr | @ubri812 | @persie33 | @happyxdayxbitch | @sofithewitch | @hxnnsvxns |  @thisshipwillsail316 | @spideysimpossiblegirl | @dobbyjen | @tanzthompson | @tuskens-mando | @pedrosmustache | @goldielocks2004 | @fireghost-x@the-mandalorian-066 | @ka-x-inas always, reply here or send me a message to be added to the taglist!!! (and if you’ve already asked me and you’re not on it, please message me again!!!)

I HOPE YOU LOVED IT!!!!!! i'm so happy to be posting regularly again :') lemme know how you like it <3

Chapter 3 will be up at 7:30 pm EST on Saturday, April 8th!!! <3

xoxo, amelie

#something holy #something holy fanfic #something more series #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x oc #din djarin smut #din djarin x novalise djarin #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x original character #the mandalorian x oc #the mandalorian smut #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #amiedala

[dothedanceofdeath]

The President and I: Din Djarin X Original Black Reader AU

Summary: You are hired to write the biography of President Din Djarin of Mandalore - a job that turns out to be so much more than you could have imagined. A/N: AU, Age gap fic (19 years), Eventual Smut, Slow Burn, Political shenanigans, Pro-monarch resurgence, war-hero Din, writer reader Pairing: Din Djarin  x Black female reader 

I’ve had a fic percolating for a while and I think I might be ready to unleash it on the world.

Din Djarin is the brooding President of the small coastal European country of Mandalore. Reader is the a Pulitzer Poetry Prize winning writer who visits Mandalore when a young girl writes to her, asking her to attend her school’s version of a show and tell - she’s in a slump in her career and she really needed this validation okay. Reader is accosted by the presidential guard on her way home and asked to write the biography of President Din Djarin, whose stoic nature has turned him into an enigma that alienates him from his people.

Reader is hired to shadow President Din Djarin for three months and lemme tell you the slow is gonna be burning my babies. Both these idiots have walls up so high it’ll give you a nosebleed but Din the war hero and reader the depressed wreck are going to find each other amongst the interference of the Djarin Administration and the failed monarchy that seeks to regain power (Did someone say Bo-Katan cameo?).

Also, all the SMUT is coming. I personally love to hate a good slow burn but I really wanted to do something heady and substantial because there is not a lot of Pedro fanfic written for us Black femmes so I wanted to do it right.

A little taste of the fic below. Let me know what you think!

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

“How are things going? Smoothly, I hope.” His tone was earnest. You couldn’t help but notice how he always ended his question with his preferred answer. You smile, wanting to seem amiable. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

“Yes. Smoothly.” You sigh and sits back in the chair dropping your gaze to the intricate engravings on the edge of the large wooden desk. Din nods, watching you closely.

“Is there anything else you need for the book?”

Your eyes shot up to his half listening, before you register the question and shake you head.

“Oh, no no. I think I have everything I need. The book will be readable, hopefully enjoyable. Everyone will be happy and we can all move on with our lives.”

Din’s expression is unreadable but he sits back in his chair.

“What do you mean by that?”

“By what?”

“Everyone will be happy… what does that mean?” He asks you, eyes never leaving yours. You catch a twitch of inquisition on his forehead before his face resumes its neutral stoicism. But his eyes. His dark brown orbs shine with his true curiosity. It felt like eavesdropping to even catch this tell of his. 

I really want to play poker with him. 

“Oh, uh… that everyone will be happy, last time I checked.”

You didn’t intend to be cheeky but you were well past the limit of your bullshit barometer to the point where observing decorum with an entire president just felt trite and unproductive. Din doesn’t move, eyes never leaving your face even though yours try to find any other focal point in the room. It’s so quiet, even for this time of night. You open your mouth to excuse yourself when he robs you of the chance by speaking.

“You do this writer thing where you say something, and mean something else. Stop it. Say what you mean.” He delivers evenly.

Your mouth drops in silent shock at his frank observation. The shock amplifies to the point where you laugh. You actually laugh out loud, boisterous and almost joyous. He can’t hide his confusion, but underneath it, he manages to conceal the awe that accompanies the warm bloom in his chest at the sound.

“Oh God” you huff out, trying to control your breathing. “Uhm... I mean isn’t that what you do as a politician?”

“Im not a politician.”

“Oh no, you’re just a freedom fighter turned president.”

The words hang in the air and you wish he would offer a retort so you wouldn’t have to pass the seconds realising how big of an asshole you just were. Din finally drops his gaze and you feel shit about it.

“Im sorry. I’m so sorry. Jesus, why do you let me speak to you like this?”

“Because I’m not a politician.”

That shuts you up. He never chose this. He was barely out of high school when he lost his entire family. A mere baby fighting someone else’s war. Although he sit across you, dark hair expertly disheveled and salt and pepper patchy facial hair doing things to you, you did not have the time to entertain right now, it was clear that this 47-year-old man still carried the hurts of the boy he used to be.

“You don’t owe me anything.” You offer. He raises his eyes to yours.

“You were 19, fighting on the frontlines of an impossible war the year I was born. You and your administration do not owe me shit.”

“But?”

You take a deep breath, weighing how far down this rabbit hole could still go before you actually pissed him off.

Fuck it.

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x black reader #din djarin x poc reader #au din djarin #pedro pascal #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian fanfic #black girl nerds #black pedro pascal fans

[morganwrites-starwars]

Time is a social construct pt. 21

Mandalorian Time Travel AU

Summary: Din is trying his best, ok? But between trying to find a teacher for his magic kid and learning there were other Mandalorians who follow a different creed, Din is very confused and lost. So when he ends up on a plant that his HUD says is Manda’yaim and encounters two teens on the run from a group of dar’mandas called Death Watch, Din figures he may as well help them. He never meant to adopt them. Or become Mand’alor.

Masterlist

<Back/Next>

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•    

            Din knew this conversation was coming- had known it since Satine pointed out his accidental ‘ade.’ That doesn’t mean he was prepared for it. But when Satine had all but pulled him away after the meeting adjourned, Din was helpless to follow after her. At least the girl didn’t look angry as he led him through the hallways and into her and Bo-Katan’s rooms. Sitting at their private dining table were Bo-Katan, Obi-wan, and Grogu. Din felt an itch in his hands, having never been comfortable being cornered. This, of course, wasn’t a typical situation where he was cornered, but the ade’s faces made it clear he wasn’t leaving until they had all talked.

      Satine sat next to her sister at the round table, leaving Din to sit in the remaining seat. It had a good view of the door to the hall, which Din appreciated. Obi-wan quickly passed Grogu over, and his ad happily snuggled into Din’s arms. Din stroked his fingers softly over Grogu’s ears as he waited for someone to speak.

      Satine lightly cleared her throat. “So, we are here to discuss a situation that caught us all by surprise-“

      “Don’t treat this like one of your meetings,” Bo-Katan cut her sister off. The younger girl turned to Din. “You referred to us as your ‘ade.’” It wasn’t a question, but Din nodded anyway. “Did you mean it?”

      “Bo-“ Satine tried to calm her sister. But Bo-Katan continued on.

      “No, he said it. He either meant it or not,” Bo-Katan said firmly, turning back to stare at Din. “So?”

      Din took a breath, patting Grogu’s head when the child cooed. Din allowed himself to sweep his eyes over the table. Bo-Katan was frowning, but Din could see the tears forming in her eyes. Satine was also looking at Din, but her feelings about the situation were hidden. Obi-wan wasn’t looking at Din, staring at his hands clasped in his lap. Din wondered if Jinn had talked to him and how that conversation went.

      “I-“ Din cleared his throat, voice hoarse. It didn’t help, but the action afforded him another moment before he had to speak. “Yeah. Sorry.”

      Bo-Katan opened her mouth as if to yell- like to rave about Din’s audacity; she and Satine had just lost their buir, and Obi-wan was a Jetii! They never asked for any parental figure, much less from Din, a man from the future whom they had met less than two weeks ago! Satine would undoubtedly back her sister up, if not more gently. Obi-wan would add that Din had done an excellent job preparing them to stop his horrific future, but with his talents, there wasn’t much more he could do. Satine might offer him credits, maybe a ship, so he and Grogu could go start their new, hopefully improved, lives. Din needed to be out of the palace by the end of the day.

      It was what Din had figured would happen as he ran scenario after scenario through his mind during the remainder of the meeting. He hadn’t been able to come up with any good ideas as to what he’d do- his skills lay firmly with bounty hunting, but in this time, he didn’t have the reputation he once had with the Guild. Sure, Satine had managed to get him an official ID again, so Din could theoretically start anew with the Guild, but it would be a pain. Besides, was that what he actually wanted? He had Grogu to think about, and while he had been able to balance caring for the kid and hunting, it hadn’t been easy. They were criminals now, weren’t being hunted. They could settle down. Maybe find a Mandalorian clan open to a traditionalist and his magic son. Din could teach the kids how to shoot, hunt, or whatever.

      But regardless of the consequences, Din couldn’t lie to himself anymore. He had found himself growing fond of these kids- even though they were technically older than him and that Din was like 75% older Bo-Katan had wanted to kill him at some point. It was weird and made his head hurt. But the fact of the matter was that these kids were some of the only people he knew in this time. Din didn’t know what to do if he had to leave them. The worry alone might kill him.

      “Patuu?” Grogu’s voice broke Din out of his thoughts, the gentle smack to his helmet accenting the noise. Grogu was standing on his toes in Din’s lap, eyes wide. Din muttered reassurances to his ad.

      “Sorry, I got lost in thought.”

      “You keep apologizing,” Obi-wan pointed out. Din looked at him and shrugged, biting back another apology. He didn’t want to upset them- it was a new sentiment that Din had gained. Because Din used to never care how other people saw him. But for these kids, Din didn’t think he could handle it if they thought bad of him.

      Din glanced over at Satine and Bo-Katan and saw the older girl wrapping an arm around her sister. Great, Din had made Bo-Katan cry. Now there was no way Satine would let him stay.

      “Please don’t cry, Bo,” Din rasped. Grogu cooed again, looking torn between comforting his buir and Bo-Katan.

      “You don’t get to say you see us as your kids and then apologize for it!” Bo-Katan shouted, whipping her tears away as if they’d personally offended her. “Own up to it!”

      Satine tried to calm her sister down, but she kept staring at Din in challenge. Din didn’t want to know what the girl would do if he failed to act. So Din took a deep breath and said, as steadily as he could, “I have, accidentally, found myself thinking of the three of you as my ade.”

      Bo-Katan slumped back into her seat. Obi-wan sounded almost like he’d been punched, and Satine bit her lip. Satine lightly said, “I’m sure you understand our hesitance….”

      “You just lost your buir,” Din said and nodded to Obi-wan, “and you still have your Jetii buir. I know. Trust me. I know.”

      Satine nodded. “I think this is something the two- the three of us,” Satine corrected as she looked at Obi-wan (who looked reminiscent of a kicked Tooka), “should talk about.” When Din didn’t move, she raised a brow at him. “Alone. Please.”

      “Oh right, yeah, I got it,” Din muttered as he stood up. Grogu slapped his arm.

      “He wants to stay here for this,” Obi-wan translated. So Din set Grogu down on the table. “We can call you when we’re done?”

      “Ok. Just don’t forget to eat late meal.” The reminder slipped past Din’s lips before he realized that was maybe too much of a buir thing to do in this circumstance. The kids just smiled, so he left it at that and left the room.

      Din didn’t move immediately when he stepped into the hallway. He wasn’t trying to eavesdrop- no, he was just confused and lost. Din started walking, trusting his feet to take him somewhere safe. He made it to his rooms and was pretty sure that he had passed Dooku at one point. The older man had looked concerned, but he didn’t stop Din.

      Din found himself sitting on his bed as he took his helmet off. He looked at his warped reflection as his mind raced.

      Din was confused. He was lost. He’d been a great bounty hunter, traveling the galaxy's outer edges with his ward. Now, he was fifty years in the past and in the middle of what was shaping to be a new political movement. The ability to prevent millions of deaths was in his hands. And here he was, freaking out about where some teenagers he’d met a few weeks ago were mad at him. Din set his helmet to the side so he could bury his face in his hands as he hunched over his knees. His fingers wound into his hair- he needed a haircut- and tugged slightly as if trying to pull away his thoughts. It was unsuccessful.

      Because Din was scared. In their time, there had been dangers- rouge Imps, greedy bounty hunters, and the occasional beast. But now they were being threatened by other Mandalorians, dar’jetii, and the looming threat of war. And what the hell was Din going to do? Fight his way through it like every problem he’d encountered before? Even with his pure beskar armor and spear, Din was no match for a terrorist group and magical beings. And what if he did stop these things? What new threat would arise? Din didn’t know every last detail about the Clone Wars and what preceded it. There were bound to be things, people, and events he would miss that would spiral into something worse.

      Where was Din’s place in the galaxy? Before, he was secure in his place- he was the provider of his clan and then later of Grogu. Now, he was a bodyguard for a Duchess who, given certain plans played out well, wouldn’t need him anymore. That would leave Din and Grogu alone in the universe.

      Surely, Din thought with some panic, there was someone better suited to all of this that the Manda, or the Force, or whatever could’ve shot back in time. Like Tano or hell, even one of those Rebellion people.

      Din choked on a sob, his chest aching. That pain, plus the sting of him pulling his hair, pulled him out of his downward spiral. He was crying, heaving, and rasping breaths escaping him. His chest felt tight- crying with armor on was never pleasant.

      Ok Din, get your osik together.

      5 things you see: the floor, the bedspread, his fingers, the ornate wallpaper, his knees

      4 things you can feel: the ache in his chest, wetness on his face, stinging of his scalp, the weight of his beskar

      3 things you can hear: his hitching breath, the whirl of the temperature control system, someone speaking beyond the door-

      What?

      Din tried to focus on that last sound and finally made out a frantic voice accompanied by knocking. “Din? Din, please let us in!”

      That was Satine! She sounded scared.

      Without a second thought, Din bounded to his door, mind whirling with reasons why she was here- was she in danger? Was Death Watch attacking? Din opened the door, hand already on his blaster.

      Instead of distant blaster fire, Din only heard Satine squeak as she and Obi-wan turned around, Satine pulling Bo-Katan with her. Grogu peeked his head over Obi-wan’s shoulder and whined.

      “Uhh…What’s wrong?” Din asked, trying to figure out why their backs were to him? His thought slowly caught up to him, and he realized they must have finished their talk and tried to call him. When he didn’t respond, they’d come to get him- how long was Din lost in thought for? “Ad’ike?”

      “Helmet,” Obi-wan answered. Din frowned and, in a kind of dumb move, patted his face. Which was not covered.

      “Ah.” Din surprised himself by not panicking. His covert didn’t exist, and talks with Jango and Silas showed that wearing your helmet at all times was a rule not commonly followed. Did that mean Din would be walking around the palace bare face? No, that felt too exposed. But in his room with his kids- even if they were delivering news that they didn’t want that? Why not. It felt like the conversation he should show his face for. “Just- just come in. Please.”

      Din backed away from the door and watched in amusement as Obi-wan, Satine, and Bo-Katan tried to walk through the door backward. Grogu, evidently annoyed with their weirdness, demanded to be let down so he could toddle his way to Din. As Din always did, he picked his son up. Grogu patted his cheek, a habit the boy had taken to when seeing Din’s bare face.

      The three teens successfully got into the room and shut the door behind- in front?- of them. Din went over to the small living set up to the side of the room and sat on a chair with Grogu on his lap. His helmet was still on the bed.

      “You can turn around,” Din said softly. He was already taking in as much as he could of the three without his HUD changing the image. “It’s ok, ori’haat.”

      Bo-Katan was the first to turn around. She immediately started scanning Din’s face. Din was hopeless to stop the flush of his cheeks, not having as much practice controlling his face as most people had. When Din didn’t change his mind or say something to Bo-Katan, Satine and Obi-wan also turned around. Having three people looking at him was uncomfortable, but Din would bear it.

      Obi-wan seemed to be able to tell Din’s feelings, however. He tugged Satine and Bo-Katan over to the loveseat and other chair.

      Satine tried to lock eyes with Din as she went to speak but couldn’t stop her eyes from flicking across his face. “Are you ok? You look like….”

      “You were crying,” Obi-wan finished. “Grogu got worried about you, so we came to check.”

      “Yeah, just,” Din hesitated on sharing his thoughts. He didn’t want to stress them out or have them change their choices in any way. “Just thinking too hard about some difficult stuff.” Satine and Obi-wan exchanged glances but let him get away with his lackluster answer. Bo-Katan was still staring at him. “Uh, Bo? Everything ok?”

      Satine lightly smacked his sister’s arm, but Bo-Katan waved her off. “I just thought you’d look more… buir-y.”

      “Buir-y?” Din wrinkled his nose at the word.

      “Yeah,” Bo-Katan said with a nod. “Less scruffy.”

      “Bo!” Satine scolded, poorly hiding a smile. Din didn’t bother pretending not to smile. He was pretty scruffy looking. Never really had to deal with other people seeing him.

      They sat in happy silence for another minute before Din sighed. He hated unnecessary waits. “So, what’s the verdict?”

      Satine sat up straighter. “I can’t speak for Obi-wan, but Bo and I- well, you’re right. We just lost our buir, but….”

      “You haven’t been pushy about it,” Bo-Katan finished. “Bet if you didn’t slip up, you would’ve never mentioned anything.” Din nodded in agreement.

      “Plus, from what you told me, you understand how it feels.” Satine’s voice cracked slightly, and she used her shoulder to rub at her eyes. Din’s hands twitched to hug the girl. Satine composed herself and said, “We don’t know if we are ready, or ever will be, to call you buir and say the vows. But we don’t want you to leave. We don’t want you to change.”

      Din’s heart felt like it had stopped. He looked at Bo-Katan for confirmation. The usually boisterous girl seemed shy, biting her lip as she nodded. Din all but deflated in relief, and Grogu squealed.

      “Oh, thank the Manda,” Din mumbled. “Thought you might kick us out.”

      Din had forgotten he wasn’t wearing his helmet, and his under-the-breath remarks could be heard by everyone else. None of the kids looked happy at that one.

      “What! No, we would never have kicked you out!” Satine said in outrage. “You’ve saved our lives, if nothing else!”

      “Plus, you don’t have anywhere else to go.” That earned Bo-Katan an elbow to her ribs.

      “Yeah, you’re right,” Din just agreed. Obi-wan had a knowing look on his face.

      “Is that what you were thinking about? Getting thrown out, and what’d you do?” he guessed.

      “Partially,” Din admitted. “Nice to know I don’t have to keep worrying.”

      “You don’t,” Satine said with finality. Din nodded and looked back at Obi-wan.

      “Right, ok so,” Obi-wan cleared his throat. “Earlier, Master asked to talk to me.”

      “Good,” Din muttered. He elaborated at Obi-wan’s confused look. “Try to talk to me about it; told him it was more of a conversation for you two.”

      Obi-wan chuckled slightly. “That does sound like Master Jinn. Anyway, he wanted to talk about all of this.” Obi-wan waved his hand between them. “He was worried. His last padawan- well, it’s not my story to tell, but basically, he had contact with his birth family and it sort of resulted in him falling, selling me to slavery, and ultimately his death.” Obi-wan took a breath and made to continue, but Din held a finger up.

      “We are coming back to that,” Din said firmly. It wasn’t the time to push it, and Din figured it was where he’d learned to identify slave collar marks. But Obi-wan wasn’t allowed to drop that information like nothing happened.

      Obi-wan winced. “Ok. Anyway, attachments for Jedi are bad. It can lead you to fall to the dark side. And while the Order doesn’t ban having familial, romantic, or otherwise relationships, it is treated with caution and usually discouraged for padawans since we are still learners. Add that to the Order’s less-than-stellar relationship with Mandalorians. Master Jinn is worried about my future.”

      “Wait, what’s the difference between an attachment and a relationship?” Bo-Katan asked, voicing Din’s exact thoughts.

      “I can be complicated to understand, but basically, an attachment is an unhealthier relationship, at the extreme. You know, possessiveness and all that. Less extreme than that is the idea that a Jedi’s duty always has to come first, no matter what. I can’t stop a fellow Jedi from going on a mission just because I worry about them, and the people who care about me shouldn’t stop me from my duty for selfish reasons.” Bo-Katan still looked a little confused, and Din was sure he did too. “Don’t worry. Like I said, it’s complicated. Some Jedi still don’t fully understand it, and they’ve been learning it all their lives.”

      “So Ji- Master Jinn told you to be wary of me,” Din guessed, the words leaving a sour feeling in his mouth.

      Obi-wan blushed. “Well, yeah. But I sort of told him- uh, you were already becoming a parent figure to me, so whoops.” The words were rushed, but Din was able to decipher them. “So we talked about boundaries and maintaining those kinds of relationships. Also, I signed up to see a mind healer at the Temple, which is pretty common for people forming stronger relationships outside the Temple.”

      Din took a moment to digest everything. He then looked each of his kids in the eyes. They looked happy, and Din smiled. “I’m happy to be whatever you need or want me to be,” he said. “I care about you, ad’ike. I’m going to work to make sure the galaxy is as safe as it can be for you. Haat, ijaa, haa’it.”

      Like a dam breaking, Bo-Katan all but threw herself at Din. Din, of course, caught her and pulled her into an embrace while shuffling so Grogu wasn’t crushed. Satine and Obi-wan moved to the chair’s arms to curl around Din.

      As for Din, he felt content, he was happy, and he wasn’t lost anymore. Children were the future, and Din was determined to change the future for his kids.

•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·•·••·•·•·•·  

Meanwhile: Qui-gon: having a mini-crisis over his padawan Dooku: patting Qui-gon's back, feeling slightly vindicated Yoda, sipping tea: "Ask Mando for parenting advice you should. Perhaps, co-parent Obi-wan, you can." Qui-gon: muffles a scream into a throw pillow

Mando'a translations: ad'ika- plural of ad'ika dar'jetti- no longer a Jedi, a Sith ori'haat: It's the truth, I swear Haat, ijaa, haa'it: Truth, honor, vision - words used to seal a pact.

Masterlist

<Back/Next>  

#TIME IS A SOCIAL CONSTRUCT #din darjin #the mandalorian #grogu #baby yoda #obi wan kenobi #satine kryze #Bo-Katan Kryze #time travel au #star wars

[spectresbase]

Star Wars Day Shorts

Just a couple of quick smutty stories I threw together in celebration of Star Wars Day!

Ahsoka’s Instruction

There had been many things a Jedi was not permitted to do. Things Ashoka was certain had made sense when they were first codified, but that like all things about the old Jedi Order, had become outdated and restrictive, so set in tradition that their purpose and nuance had faded into memory. Memory that she felt certain not even Master Yoda could've called forth at will. Now the old Order was gone, and a new one was being built from the ground up. An Order Ahsoka was helping to shape. 

The first of those pesky prohibitions to go? The ban on relationships. Connection wasn’t the weakness the old Order had thought it was. Oh, it could certainly open an unwary Jedi to the darkside. She knew that better than most. But it also gave a Jedi a reason to care. A reason to engage with the galaxy on an individual level instead of simply in the abstract. Relationships are what had saved Ahsoka when the Order fell. They were what had sustained her through the long dark. And if Luke was to be believed, they were ultimately what had killed the Emperor.

Also, it just felt GOOD! Pulling her hips up off Luke’s, Ashoka spun around on the bed, shuffling backwards before dropping into a squat atop his face. His tongue slid inside her without hesitation, swirling through the mess he’d made of her with his usual attentiveness. She let him eat her for a few moments, his tongue a soft pleasure after the hardness of his cock. It washed over her, smoothing out the jagged aftershocks of climax. Still savoring that softness, she leaned forward, her own mouth opening to wrap around the slowly softening head of his cock. She didn’t want to let him get too soft after all. He tasted like both of them, the saltiness of his cum bringing out the tartness of her own juices. The combination nearly made her drool. Running her tongue around his head, she cleaned off every drop before pushing deeper in the steady bobbing motion Bo had taught her years ago. 

The shift in her position changed his focus as well. No longer able to get his tongue as deep, he switched to licking her entire pussy, starting at her clit and running his flattened tongue up between her folds. She purred around his cock, rolling her own hips minutely, riding his tongue in a purely instinctive reaction to prolong the sensation. Reaching up, Luke got a grip on her ass, fingers dimpling the orange skin as he kneaded it, not trying to control her pace, simply enjoying the feel of her. Ahsoka’s own fingers also joined the activity, wrapping around the base of Luke’s quickly rehardening cock, stroking up to meet her lips then moving back down. She could’ve let them simply go on like that if she’d been trying to cool them down. But she wasn’t. Tomorrow she’d have to blast off this rock, leaving Luke for a while to continue setting up his new Jedi Academy while she tracked down yet another lead on the whereabouts of Grand Admiral Thrawn. Cooling down wasn’t in the cards. 

So instead of tightening her lips around his head and sucking hard in the way she knew he liked, Ashoka instead lifted her hips off his face, squirmed around once more on the bed, and settled herself atop his dick. It was time for round three.

Mandalorian Celebrations

Mandalorians fucked with the same intensity they fought with. While Bo-Katan had known a few who were tender and sensual, they’d been the exception, not the rule. She was alright with that. 

Held down by the hand in her hair, face pressed into the rough fabric of her sleeping pad, Bo threw her ass back against Djarin, growling and snarling as he fucked her. All around them, the surviving members of the culvert and the Nite Owls were doing the same, celebrating their victory over Gideon and their reconquest of Mandalor. Just what they’d do with the planet was a problem for tomorrow. Tonight they drank and they feasted and they fucked.

Turning her head to the side, Bo watched Koska getting face fucked. Hands held up over her head, wrists wrapped in grappling line, the dark skinned Nite Owl was a mess of spit and cum, but was grinning nonetheless. Head bobbing back and forth, she took everything the soldier standing over her could give her, and demanded even more.

A ways to the left of her, the Armorer hadn't bothered removing any of her armor, simply strapping on mechanical cock she now drove into one of the survivors they’d found still living on the surface, her booted foot on the back of his head. Even as Bo watched, cum spurted from the man’s cock, joining two drying lines already painted across his chest and dripping into a puddle beneath him. The Armorer barely even slowed down. 

Returning her attention to Djarin, Bo felt him tensing behind her, his fingerings tightening even harder in her hair. He was close. Good. She’d wanted him to cum first. All she needed to do was hold on a few more strokes and she’d prove to herself something she’d wondered ever since they’d first teamed up to capture that Gozanti on Trask. His growl filtered by his helmet’s speakers, he slammed into her one last time, pushing as deep as he could before unloading. She took the hot rush with a gasp and a groan, hips rolling but not retreating from it. The rush ended and he started to withdraw. She wasn’t having any of that. Twisting beneath him, she brought a knee up and kicked his leg out from under him, sending him toppling to the side. He started to right himself quickly, but not quickly enough. She was on him in a flash, shoving his legs back and squatting atop his cock, pinning him beneath her. He’d gotten his, now she was gonna get hers. This was the way.

#smut #not sfw #written smut #adult fanfiction #star wars #Ahsoka x Luke #bo katan x din #may the 4th be with you