#why must din be so shiny

[chaotic-iguana]

Acting out

(Din x f! reader one-shot)

Summary: You thought it would be fun to tease Din on the comm link while he was hunting for a bounty, expecting it not to take too long. But it takes longer than you thought - and it turns out your distractions were partly why it took so long. Mando’s back now though, and he’s not happy…

(basically just a brat tamer! din x bratty-till-shes-drooling-on-his-cock reader)

Wordcount: 2.7k 

Pairing: Din Djarin/ The Mandolorian x fem! reader (no use of y/n) 

Warnings: dacryphilia, dom/sub dynamics, overstimulation, edging/denial, crying, mean!mando, pussy slapping, spanking, daddy kink (mild), dumbification, crying (during sex bc it feels good), aftercare. MDNI

ao3 // masterlist.

Din stalked back to the ship, dragging the bounty behind him, aggression pouring off him in palpable waves. His seemingly easy bounty had taken triple the time it normally would have, thanks to the fact that every time Din got close enough to catch him, you’d picked up the commlink out of boredom, and moaned, whimpered and whined into it till he was so painfully hard under his beskar that The Mandalorian was forced to jerk off in dimly lit alleys. With the shiny armor on. 

14 times in three weeks. Fourteen times in three weeks you disobeyed his direct command to not touch yourself while he was gone, practically taunting him every time he threatened to punish you on his return. He could hear the smirk in your voice as you bit out each one of your witty little replies. ‘S okay, he was gonna wipe the smirk off your face, along with every other thought in your pretty little head. 

Since it was going slowly anyways, Din had gone a bit off-route and into a shop he’d rarely been to before. The package was now tucked in his holster belt, and had been spotted by the quarry who had been guffawing the whole way here. Must have been his happiest damn quarry yet, the rate at which his boisterous laughter was reverberating in Din’s skull. He whirled, slamming the Twi’lek face-first into the side of the Crest in warning, relishing in the string of blood and spit beading from his mouth as he spat out a tooth and snarled. Din snarled right back and hauled him inside, throwing him into the carbonite chamber and freezing him before he had a chance to do much else. 

Once that was out of the way, Din began hunting for you. He found you in the hull, giggling with the child over something adorable, no doubt, but he was so infuriated by you he didn’t care. He just walked over to the child, gave him a Keldabe kiss, and tucked him away in the crib fondly before fiddling with his vambrace to close the sphere. At the sound of your protests, Din turned to you and cocked his head in your direction, watching you trail off nervously as he offered no explanation. You took a step forward, reaching to put your hand on his chest and ask if he’s injured - but before you could even open your mouth - Din gripped your elbow and whirled you around. His chest connected with your back as he crowded you forward. 

A knot of anticipation and nervousness grew in your stomach. You were a brat, but you had never pushed him this far before. Never during a bounty, either. Despite your anxiety, you trusted him to take care of you; the combination of unpredictability and trust making your head dizzy with molten need before he even touched you. 

“Stand in the corner and face the wall with your arms up.  Don’t lower them unless I give you permission to.” His modulated voice ground the words out in a monotone, but he was close enough for you to be able to hear the whisper of rage in his words, making your hands tremble as you pressed them flat against the cool metal wall. You heard a rustle and telltale clink of metal armor behind you and tensed in expectation before a large, warm hand settled just above your hip, covering the expanse of your back. Another made its way around your torso and both began working in tandem to rip the clothes off your body. 

You gasped as you stood shivering and bare in the hull within seconds, testament to the strength he hid in his gentle touches with you. You opened your mouth to beg him to hurry up before his hand came down on your ass and a smack echoed in the ship. Your lips parted, and a cry of surprise worked its way out as Din began slapping both your cheeks in a random, but equally devastating order. He gave you no time to recover, barely letting the sting fade before he repeated the motion and the pain increased tenfold. 

Tears began pooling in your eyes as Din kept going, and when your legs began shaking from the ache you couldn’t take it anymore. “S-stop. Please. ‘M gonna be g-good” you could barely get the words out between the sharp, jagged breaths bursting out of you. Din chuckled behind you before leaning in to rub your swollen, reddened skin in a soothing motion. 

“Are you now? You forgot to count, though, cyar’ika. Good girls count. Let’s try again from one, no crying.” His tone dripped with condescension as he began again, practically reveling in each gasp and broken sob that spilled from your lips, taking pleasure in each time you stuttered on a number. Your eyes burned but you blinked rapidly to stop any tears from falling. You had submitted completely to your submissive headspace, and Din knew it too.

Finally, as you gasped out “25”, Din stopped to soothe the flaring bruises again. You whimpered and tried to move your hips forward, but realised the wall gave you no space to do so. Turning over your shoulder, you met his visor with pleading, tear-filled eyes. 

“S-sorry daddy. Won’t tease you next time, ‘m sorry for being bad. Please no more, it h-hurts,” sobs wracked from you, and you wrapped your arms around his midsection before burying your face in his chest. Gloveless hands began smoothing over your hair as Din began muttering praises and assurances to you from behind his helmet. 

“That’s okay, baby, I know it hurts. You teased me all the time, hm? Gotta make it right, no?” he paused as you nodded into his chest. “Then you gotta take your punishment, too, honey. You think just 25 strokes is enough to make up three weeks worth of misbehaving?” you shook your head, sniffling and looking up at him with such a sincere apology in your gaze that Din debated abandoning the punishment then and there. 

But the package sat on the floor next to his armor, tempting him, and he gave into the wrecked visions of you his mind was conjuring. Tapping your thighs lightly, he urged you to jump before adjusting your knees on his waist and cradling your head in one hand to reach down and pick up the inconspicuous white bag from the floor. Carrying you to his chair, Din pulled some rope out and began typing your hands to each of the chair’s handles; your feet spread wide in position. He reached his hand into the paper bag and pulled out a bullet-shaped, neon-pink toy as your eyes widened in alarm. 

You whined, tugging against your restraints fruitlessly as you looked at Din, who just tilted his helmet at you before kneeling and running a knuckle down your folds - chuckling when the contact makes you hiss and buck your hips. Din’s fingers leave you for a second before his hand comes down again - this time on your bare and swollen cunt - leaving you jolting away and yelping in surprise as you suppress a shudder. The snap of his rough hand on your clit leaves you breathless as stuttered pleas and whines come tumbling our of your throat. Din just brings his open palm down in another slap in response, the wet sound echoing throughout the room. 

“We’re done when I say we are. Ask me to stop again, and I’ll add another punishment after this one.” You squirmed, tugging against the ropes binding you to the chair. Din reached for the toy, pressing a button on its side and holding it snug against your clit. Your hips bucked of their own volition as you choked on your needless babbling, the warmth in your belly growing to a crescendo just as Din slid two fingers into you without warning. 

Just as you felt the first waves of your orgasms within reach, suddenly everything was gone - his fingers, the toy - pulled away cruelly, leaving you rolling your hips while the restraints chafed your skin. You sobbed out a whine as Din tutted at you in mock sympathy, stepping away from you until your release faded away before returning the toy and thrusting three fingers inside you in a single, swift motion. 

He repeated this cycle endlessly - bringing you to the edge only to pull away again, watching your trembling body rut in midair mindlessly; too far gone to even beg properly. Broken syllables poured out of your mouth, interrupted by wanton moans and sobs as tears stained your flushed cheeks. Eyes rolling back and slick running down your thighs, you furled and unfurled your fingers as the need to touch Din overwhelmed you. A steady chant of need to cum, need to cum, please, please, please, i’m sorry began taking over your mind, rocking your hips forwards and backwards in an attempt to chase any friction at all in the haze that had flooded your mind. 

Din could see you crumbling, your frustrated tears falling harder as time went on. He pulled the vibrator away from you again, turning it off to set it aside this time, untangling the ropes and opening your binds while rubbing at your sore wrists. You sobbed as you reached your shaking hands out for him, and he gathered you in his arms before turning to sit with you in his lap, rubbing your back as he cooed praises into your hairline. 

“You wanna come, honey?” You nod feverishly into his chest. “Okay, baby, okay. Took your punishment so well for me. You deserve a reward, okay? Let me take care of you.” You sniffle and look up at his visor before resting your hands on either sides of his helmet, waiting for your riduur to nod to tug it over his head and smash your lips to his desperately. You needed to feel him so badly, to breathe the air he was breathing, to be one with him again. Hands reaching up to tangle in his hair, your fingers began to claw at him urgently as you deepened the kiss. 

Breaking away from your mouth to grasp your chin, Din’s eyes met yours, an unguarded question in them. You want this? Instead of responding verbally, you stood to your feet to help rip off his boxers and undershirt before returning to straddle his thighs. Din leaned back in his seat before grinning at you. “Go on, take what you need. You’ve earned it. Just wanna hear a thank you when you’re done.” he drawled at you before resting his hands on the rests of the chair. You leaned in closer, rolling your hips to grind your cunt against his length; his moan rumbling against your pressed chests as his tip caught at your clit, making you hiss and jump from the sensitivity. 

You sunk down onto him, nails digging into his biceps as your toes curled and you both groaned from the stretch as you met in a rough, sloppy kiss. Eyes rolling back, you bounced in his lap whining his name over and over like a prayer as a cocky grin made its way onto his face. Wet, smacking sounds and the repetition of your wrecked “Din, Din, D-Din…” echoed throughout the hull. Din planted his feet, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise, thrusting up and nuzzling your neck as his tip battered your cervix with enough force for your vision to black out; back arching as you screamed soundlessly and felt yourself hurtling towards your orgasm. 

You tipped your head back as your eyes fluttered shut, unable to do much more than take the pleasure he was giving you. A hand wrapped around your neck and clamped down as Din spoke into your ear with an edge that had you suppressing a shiver. “You look at me when I make you feel good. Let me see those pretty eyes cry on my cock, mesh’la. Cum.” The words of endearment in Mando’a were the final nail in the coffin, and suddenly your whole body was locking up -  walls clamping down around Din as you finally got to come - eyes filling with tears as Din’s movements didn’t so much as stutter, drawing the high out to the point of pain and over-sensitivity that had you jolting with each thrust. The steady repetition of thank yous began surging from your lips, eager to please him, keening for his praise. 

Scratching your nails along his scalp and curling your fists into his hair, his stubble leaving burn marks down your neck as he began rolling your flesh between his teeth before sucking bruises into it. Gasping, you felt your legs shake slightly as the onslaught continued, barely able to form sentences in your head as the white hot bliss wiped your mind clean. A particularly punishing press of his girth inside you caused a shriek to bubble up from your throat as you pushed weakly at his chest to slow him down, making him laugh at you. 

Tilting your head down to level your eyes, he brought his face close enough to make your noses touch. “My poor-” leaning in, he pressed a kiss to your now slack jaw, pulling back to look at you again, “poor, baby.” Twin brushes of his lips over your eyelids, which threatened to shut at the fatigue coursing through you now. “Fucked so dumb she can’t even tell me to stop.” A kiss to your cheek this time, his tongue flicking out to taste your tears. “‘S that what you want, sweetheart? Want me to stop?” you shook your head frantically, too desperate to feel him in you to remember your pain. 

“W-want you to cum, daddy.” You whispered it as you buried your face in his neck, body twitching with his relentless motions and reveling in the slight hitch in his breath at your words. Before you knew it, a steady slew of please cum and please trickled into your half-gasped, rambled vocabulary, just as Din’s thrusts sped up slightly. Your eyes did close then, arms wrapping around his neck to wrap yourself in his safety as he reached a hand down to thumb at your clit, making you lurch in his secure hold as he began tracing rapid, tight circles on you while rutting up into you with renewed vigor. 

“Give me another, baby. That’s it. That’s it, good girl” his words kept you grounded as you began wailing, trembling like a leaf as he thrusted a few more times before he came with a low, animalistic moan and spilled inside you. 

Heaviness and fatigue began weighing down your body and mind in his arms, your breathing evening out as you tucked your face in his shoulder. His arms wound around your midsection, pressing soft kisses and murmurs into your hair as he used one hand to smooth the hair away from your face. You felt him pick you up and walk you somewhere - turn on some water and the glorious feeling of his hands running down your body to scrub his soap into your skin. 

You had the distinct memory of his lips ghosting over each blotch of blue or purple, taking the time to kiss it softly before moving on to the next, before he wrapped you up, dressed you in his shirt and panties, and lay you onto the bed. Swooping down to kiss your forehead and smiling at the sleepy grumble you let out before reaching your arms out blindly for him, he turned the lights out and crawled into bed to hold you. Watching you burrow into him in your sleep, the irritation of the hunt seemed to melt away now that he was with you again. For the first time in days, Din let sleep take him; feeling completely safe and at home with you pressed to his chest.

hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist: @imherefordeanandbones 🫶

#din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin smut #din dijarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin/reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #the mandalorian x female reader #brat tamer! din djarin #husband! din #dom! din x bratty! reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin/you #dom/sub #mild daddy kind #daddy dom! din djarin #soft dom din djarin #cool-iguana

[lowlights]

Recalibration

Din Djarin x f!reader / 1k

Warnings: Established relationship, medical diagnosis, reader is not able to have kids, lots of feelings, insecurity and worry, Din being just the absolute sweetest, comfort, reader has a uterus but this can actually be read as a gn! reader I think.

Last year, a cancer diagnosis robbed me of the choice to have kids. It's been a journey to grieve and process this, even when I thought I might not have kids anyway. This story was written in response to an ask to @haylzcyon who gave me the permission and strength to write this. This is dedicated to that anon, and anyone else who has gone through something like this.

---

You sat in a stunned silence outside the medcenter, wide-eyed and stone-faced. The people of the town bustled in front of you as they went about their day, buying fruits and textiles, laughing and arguing and living. 

Rage boiled up inside of you. How could they just run their errands like everything was normal? Like your whole world hadn’t just been upended? The feeling was misplaced but you couldn’t find it within yourself to care. Anger was easier than the unnameable monster that was eating at you from the very pit of your stomach. You clenched your hands into fists, knuckles white and aching. 

“That deal took much longer than I wanted, I’m sorr- what’s wrong?” Normally the shiny Mandalorian was hard to miss - unless he wanted to be invisible - but you hadn’t noticed him walk up beside you. His hand went to his belt as he glanced around the crowd, his other hand protectively gripping your shoulder. 

His touch shocked you out of your resentment of the world. “No, it’s- nothing’s wrong, Mando. Can we go back to the ship? Now, please?” You inwardly cringed at how high your voice was as you tried your best to be fine, and you knew that he clocked it immediately as well. 

With a silent nod, Mando guided you back to the ship that you both called home. His left hand never left the small of your back as he parted the crowds for you wordlessly. At first, you found comfort in his presence but dread slowly seeped into your bones as you realized that you were going to have to explain what the doctor had just told you. 

Mando’s helmet was off almost before the door of the ship had whooshed closed. “Cyare, what’s wrong? What happened?” His deep brown eyes bore a hole into your soul, and as soon as his hands cupped your face you broke down in tears. The ugly sobs poured out even though you wished them back into your body with every ounce of your being. 

“I-I just went in to get my meds refilled and get some more bacta patches for the ship, right? I hadn’t seen a doctor in a while so he ran some…some tests.” Mando nodded along even though he knew all of this already. His thumbs stroked your cheeks as he tried not to rush you. The worry was clear on his face, though. You needed to just spit it out. 

“He said I can’t, well I shouldn’t…I can’t have kids, Din. I can’t give you kids. I’m s-so…I’m so sorry. And I didn’t even know I wanted to have kids but now I can’t. I’m so sorry.” You collapsed against him as the sobs returned. He immediately wrapped his arms around you. Stars above, he must be so upset. What if he was angry? What if he didn’t want to be with you now? All you could think was the worst. 

Mando murmured sweet, soft things to you as he softly kissed the crown of your head. As your tears subsided you could make out what he was saying. 

“I love you, I love you, I love you. Please be alright, I love you.” 

Your heart fully cracked open. “You’re not mad?” you asked with a shaky voice, finding the courage to look him in the eyes. 

“Mad?” he asked quizically. “Why would I be mad?” 

The assumptions you had made in your head spilled out of you.“You’re just…you’re such a good dad! And I can’t ever give you that. You deserve someone who can give you kids and the life that you want. I’m so sorry.” 

“No!” Mando said firmly as he hugged you to his chest again. “Don’t apologize again. There is nothing to be sorry about.” 

Relief rushed over you and you finally wrapped your hands around his waist. “Okay,” you whispered into the beskar chest plate. You stood there with him - your protector, your love, your Din - and said nothing as your breathing finally returned to normal. When you pulled back to look at him, you saw that his face was still twisted in worry. 

“Are you- please, cyare, tell me if you’re well. Are you sick? Is it..is it bad?” 

The realization that you had totally skipped over the why of this made you mentally kick yourself. “I’m fine! I’m- well, it’s not a terminal illness or anything. I’m so sorry- no, let me apologize for this,” you chided when he opened his mouth to protest. “It’s not something that will hurt me, so long as I don’t get pregnant. But I’m alright, physically I’m alright.” 

Din felt his own relief with that reassurance and settled you both down on your shared cot so that you could fill him in on every detail. He held your hand the entire time and wiped away your tears when they came again, never rushing or prodding. When you were finally done explaining you looked at him with expectant eyes. What would he say now that he knew the finality of it all? 

Din wasn’t a man of many words. This had certainly been the case when you met him, and he still was more likely to sit back and listen rather than speak. He cleared his throat and you held your breath. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what it is like to lose the choice to have children. But listen- we have a kid. We have Grogu. You’re my family. You’ve given me everything I could want.” 

You bit your lip. “Swear?” 

He nodded. “I swear. Down the line, if we want kids, we can adopt them as our own. I was a kid who needed a home, and so was Grogu. But as long as it’s the three of us, that’s all that matters.” 

You believed him. The look in his eyes, the way he held you to him, the way he has always protected you with his life. You believed him. 

Din kissed you, long and slow, and you melted into each other. “Speaking of, it’s time to go pick up Grogu from Greef. He’s probably destroyed his office by now,” he said with a chuckle. “You okay?” 

“I’m okay,” you sighed. You knew you would be, even when it got hard again. 

You both stood and Din led you by the hand to the cockpit. It was time to go pick up your child. 

#din djarin #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #tw medical #tw medical diagnosis #tw fertility #tw pregnancy talk

[thewriterowl]

Grogu stars levitating out of no where so Din goes to Luke and is like "hey wtf is this?" and at first Luke has *no idea* so being the favorite grandson of the Force, he meditates on it......and finds himself floating as well.

That's why Din has a child leash for Grogu and Luke MUST hold his hand at all times now. Mando has had enough of this Force BS

Din has a BIG investment in child-leashes of all sizes, honestly. Both Luke and Grogu need them. Not only do they float away, they wander.

Something shiny? Oh, there goes Luke. Something smells good? Off goes Grogu. Din is just standing in the middle, keeping them both at bay and not causing mayhem.

#owl inbox #dinluke #he loves them both dearly

[oonajaeadira]

For the Love of Fic: May 30

It’s been a slow reading time...a slow everything time. But it’s okay. That means there’s always a good fic waiting to curl up with when you’re ready.

Here’s what I’ve been loving lately!

🪐 = Year of Themed Creations work!

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JOEL MILLER

In the Light They Both Look the Same by @insomniamamma  I love seeing J take on new characters because she always sees them through a lens of truth. Never paints them too soft or too hard, ever better or smarter or stronger than they already are, sees their potential and works with what they are. Such is the case with Joel and this sex worker reader character. He pays her for her services honestly, but pays her for her compassion a little less honestly and a lot more satisfyingly. And I love him for it.

The Safest Way Into Tomorrow by @writeforfandoms  Short and sharp and hard hitting. A good explanation for why Joel doesn’t sleep much. Or well. Or avoids it purposefully. And the reasoning is so very very Joel. Love a good internal character dissection...

Surrender Chapter Five and Chapter Six by @ezrasbirdie​ These two idiots are finally admitting to themselves that they can allow themselves to be loved and taken care of and thank gods because they both just need something sweet in their lives. Looks like they’re both gonna allow themselves to take it. 

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TIM ROCKFORD

Rockford & Roan Pt. 2 by @littlemisspascal  This chapter is a lovely bath of environment and character building, letting us sink cozily into our new home with an interesting new roommate to observe. If this was a chapter in a book, I would not be able to keep from reading “just one more” before I headed to sleep...and I bet it would become a chorus and I’d be up all night just wanting to know more...

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DIN DJARIN

The Man in the Shiny Mask by @all-the-things-2020​ This Mandalorian and Futurama crossover  (in shoot script form) is so fkn funny and I can totally see and hear this whole “episode.” Grogu fits so well with the Futurama universe and there’s a storyline going with him and the Hypnotoad and the consequences of their meeting that had me giggling. I really really applaud this crossover. Sophie knows the Futurama characters and voices and timing so well and really makes the pairing work!!!

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JAVI GUTIERREZ

Darklight by @psychedelic-ink  Not so sure I breathed through this drabble of Javi being your boss in a bookshop and coming to the rescue when a box is too unwieldily. It’s not so much what happens here as the possibility burning in the air between the two... Did I breathe? Unknown.

First Meeting by @hopeamarsu 🪐 I could think of a lot of worse ways for a meet cute, and not a lot of better ones than forced proximity when all the other seats in a movie house are taken. Brushing of thighs, stammered apologies, being given the power of an acceptance? Yes please. Talk about a meet CUTE.

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PERO TOVAR

Flowers by @toomanystoriessolittletime  Am I a sucker for a shop AU? Yes. The thought of rough and tumble Pero caring for plants? Yes. Being a flower shop owner AND a neighbor AAAAND a grower of sunflowers? SIGN MY SOFT ASS UP.

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DIETER BRAVO

C is for CNC by @butchmandalorian 🪐 That’s it. I’m calling Tori for all my kink needs. Not a really kinky girl m’self, but the absolute trust their reader characters share with the boys is totally my jam. In this one, you NEED to read the warnings, because consentual non-consent is not for everyone. But the thought of negotiating a night out with Dieter that he will never forget but you will? And him taking care of you through it? Dang. DANG I SAY. I do have a kink. And my kink is trust. And this is IT.

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EZRA

Budding Moon by @grogusmum 🪐 I think there is a prerequisite that selkie stories must get a large part of their beauty from a foundation of longing and bittersweetness, and Hazel’s Seven Tears AU is often no different. In this one, selkie!Ezra is asked about his first love, which is sweet and sad...but also hints at the fear that his current love could end the same way. After all, when you come from the sea, you must one day return to it...

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SPECIAL GUEST CORNER

KILI (THE HOBBIT)

The Best Gift by @ironmandeficiency 🪐 While reader’s husband (Kili) is away, he writes to say he can’t be home for her birthday. But then, there is a rather large box waiting for her on the day. Also, I want a messenger raven please.

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#for the love of fic #tlou fanfic #joel miller #merge manor fanfic #tim rockford #mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #futurama fanfic #tuwomt fanfic #javi gutierrez #the great wall fanfic #pero tovar #the bubble fanfic #dieter bravo #prospect fanfic #ezra #the hobbit fanfic #kili

[razorcrestgrogusnest]

Hard as Beskar

By BadWolfLoki

Din is on Yavin Prime to collect a bounty: You. You're cocky and stubborn, which made you easy to catch.

Din Djarin X Female Reader

Tags: vaginal sex, anal sex, bondage/restraints, gags, knifeplay, bloodplay

The Mandalorian drags you onto his ship kicking and screaming. He’s a lot stronger than he looks, you’ll give him that, but you’re cunning. You’ve used your mouth to get yourself out of sticky situations before, why should now be any different?

The Mandalorian tosses you rather unceremoniously into the small hold. You take a look around the rust bucket and scoff. “You’d think with that shiny beskar, you’d be able to afford a better ship.” Din ignores you, but he’s proud of the Razor Crest. “Stop talking, quarry.” He chains you to a support beam in the hold and makes sure the cuffs are extra tight. You growl a low rumble as the cold metal bites your skin.

“Or what? You’re gonna toss me around some more?” You smirk and rake your eyes down his sturdy frame, then back up. Din ignores you once more, stashing his weapons away. “My carbon-freezer may be broken, but if you keep running your mouth, I’ll bring you to Kriebo cold anyway.” Din’s tone was flat and even, but you detected the tiniest edge to it. He would get a bounty for you either way, but significantly more if you were unharmed. Well… alive, anyway.

“So what’s your deal, Mandalorian? I’ve heard of you. You don’t take off your armour?” You shrug “Must get lonely… no one to touch you…” You bite your lip. “It must be... hard.” Din tries his best to ignore you. “Stop talking.” You smirk coyly. You can’t see his face, but you like to imagine he’s sweating under that helmet. “Would you like that? Someone to stroke your cock every night? I bet you crave… yearn for someone’s touch. You wake up every morning and jack off… probably do it quickly to get it to go down, but it doesn’t mean anything anymore. You spurt a weak, pathetic cumload, and it all feels so… pointless?”

Din growls and, in a flash, has his thick gloved fingers around your throat. He growls a deep rumble in the back of his throat. “I said shut up, rude girl.” A lewd moan escapes your lips before you can contain it, your pussy throbbing. “Make. Me.” You stare down his visor. He grunts and moves to the other side of the hold, and starts dragging a large, metal crate towards you. You look at him curiously as he works. Silently, the attaches a strap around the crate, then moves to you. Without a word, he temporarily uncuffs you long enough to spin you around, then cuffs you around the beam once more. “Is this how you like to play, Mandalorian? Funny, I hoped you’d be a little more interesting than this, but oh well. Maybe you are just a stiff-lipped, limp… boring-“ Din growls loudly and hoists you onto the crate, spreading your legs wide, and straps your ankles into the strap.

“What-“ Din shoves you forward so that your breasts touch the crate, and forcefully rips your pants off. He makes quick work of ripping off the final shreds of what was once clothing. You whine in arousal, your pussy absolutely dripping onto the top of the crate. “I said shut up!” Din quickly pulls out his rather thick, throbbing cock. The head is nearly purple from arousal, and already leaking pre-cum. He rips off his gloves and reaches around to your mouth, shoving three fingers into your mouth. “You want to run your mouth? I’ll teach you when to keep your tongue to yourself.” He pulls his fingers back, coats the tip of his cock with your spit, and runs his fingers up and down your pussy. You whine unceremoniously, no longer caring about keeping face. All you can think about is how badly you want this masked man to wreck you.

Din rather aggressively rams his cock deep into your pussy, and groans loudly at how tight your pussy is around his cock. Din grabs the back of your neck and holds you down while he sets a brutal pace, stretching you open with every thrust. You grip onto the beam for dear life as Din rails you to within an inch of your life. “Oh… mmmmm… kriff…” Din wraps his gloved hand around your mouth forcefully, while the other still holds your neck down. “I said stop talking! I don’t think you’re learning your lesson.” Din pulls out of you with a grunt. You whimper at the suddenly empty feeling, your raw pussy pulsing for more.

Din pulls out a small knife that was sheathed on his belt. You try to keep a cool face, but your heart rate is increasing rapidly. Is he really going to bring you in cold? He clicks the vibro-knife on and it starts thrumming loudly and rapidly. He cocks his head and growls deeply. “Are you going to shut up now, rude girl?” You swallow and nod sheepishly. He hums satisfactorily and brings the thrumming vibro-knife towards your thigh. He very delicately drags it along your upper inner thigh. You whimper as the blade slices into your skin, just enough to draw blood. You should be scared. You should be terrified of this Mandalorian. But… the only feeling your body is capable of is intense, tantric desire for his cock. He slowly scoops up the dribble of blood with his fingers and bring them to your lips. He teases your lips, tugging at your bottom lip. “Suck.” You don’t question your orders. You eagerly dive onto his fingers, sucking on his fingers and licking up the blood with a fervour Din hasn’t seen in a long time. He hums contentedly as your tongue swirls around his fingers.

Din rips off his other glove and rolls it up into a tight ball. “Open.” You eagerly open your mouth and he stuffs the tight roll of leather in your mouth. You lean forward more, resting your head on the top of the crate, knowing you’re about to get it. Din carefully slides the vibro-knife in the small space between your pussy and the lid of the crate, so that it is flush with your clit, pointing forward towards your stomach, and he flicks it on. “Move even a fraction of an inch and the blade will cut you. Do you understand?” You whimper loudly as the vibro-knife vibrates aggressively against your clit, and nod. You hear a hiss and the clunk of metal as he sets his helmet down on the crate beside you. You pinch your eyes shut. You enjoy getting him riled up, but you’d never actually insult his religion by looking at him.

Din spits a large dollop of spit onto his cock and rubs the head of his cock up and down your pussy. “Your pussy is so gorgeous, rude girl.” You whimper as the vibro-knife inches you closer and closer to the edge. “But…” Your ears perk up when he says this. Din groans loudly as he slides his cock slowly but steadily into your asshole. You moan lewdly as he stretches you open once more. His cock is so thick, but it feels so amazing as it hits deep inside of you. “That’ll teach you to open your mouth without permission.” Din’s thick cock provides the tightest friction against your hole, as the vibro-knife thrums away at your clit. “Don’t cum yet.” Din’s voice is becoming shaky and weak as he rapidly careens towards an orgasm. He groans louder as he fucks your hole with a hard, brutal pace of a man desperate for ecstasy.

His large, strong hand grips your neck and he sinks his teeth into your shoulder as he shoots huge ropes of hot, creamy cum deep inside you until it gushes out around his cock. “Cum for me, rude girl.” It doesn’t take long for the vibro-knife to finish the job that his cock started, and you start gushing all over the vibrating handle of the knife with a loud cry. Din rests his head against your shoulder for a long time, catching his breath, before he pulls out with a groan, and pulls his glove out of your mouth. “Dank Farrik, that was incredible.” You barely manage to get out in between heavy pants.

Din tucks himself away and you hear the mechanical hiss of his helmet sealing on his head once more. He uses his glove to wipe the mess of cum dripping out of your hole, and he hums contentedly. He steps back. “Are you going to untie me?” You say breathlessly. “No.” You lick your lips and try to get your bearings. “Will you at least turn off the vibro-knife?” Din walks away towards the ladder to the cockpit, before turning and looking at you over his shoulder. “No. I’m not done with you, rude girl.”

Find my AO3 below

#din djarin #the mandalorian #star wars #fanfic #pedro pascal

[thesoundofrainbirdwings]

POV You are a Rando Mando from the covert part 2

Part 1 below

Somehow it seems Din managed to escape from captivity and the princess sort of expected him to do it...? You are puzzled but you get it, she had faith in her husband.

She has to leave him behind to retreat and you can only imagine what they are feeling right now. But in the confusion, you realise the baby has gone missing. Princess must be panicking internally but keeping it together for the sake of the group.

You then end up in a cave with plants. The pretty flowers are calling your name. This is where you also realise some lovestruck fool (Din) would totally pick those flowers for a girl he likes.

Apparently Axe got reinforcements and they're coming down. You totes thought he was doing a runner until he sent everyone else over.

You see the princess ignite the Darksaber. It's the first time you have seen it and you like how shiny and flashy and noisy it is. You want one too so you can wave it around and hear the brmmmm brmmmm brrmmmmmm of it.

Eventually the others join up with you. You have never been so happy to see and join up with Nite Owls of all people. Everyone goes and attacks those filthy lmps and their bastardised armour.

The princess spots her hubs down below fighting Gideon. You think it's fair she goes straight down to save her husband. You'd do the same for your spouse too, whomever that may be in the future.

Eventually you are all given the order to clear out of the cave because Axe is crashing a ship into the base. Problem is you don't see the princess and Din. You hoped they were OK but such thoughts were not needed because they turned out fine. Why even bother worrying at this point?

You have no idea what just happened but what in the world is going on? Din adopted Grogu but princess didn't? Weren't they married? You have never been so puzzled by something in your life. Were they married at all? Everyone assumes they are! And he's leaving without her? What???

However, you remember the traditional vows of marriage. They will still be one when parted. You suppose it will work out.

Eventually you get to the forge ceremony. Princess looks so sad, like a part of her is missing. It's the face of someone who had everything they wanted from when they were younger but lost something on the way. You realise she loves him as much as he clearly loves her.

Things have been happening around you so that leaves your mind quickly. You've been getting to know another one of the Nite Owls quite well and have gotten very close...

#Bodin #bo-katan kryze x din djarin #the dinbo agenda #din djarin x bo katan kryze #Rando mando #they're the most married but not together couple ever #anyone would assume they're married ok #Rando mando series

[noxturnalpascal]

WIP Wednesday (Cold as Ice)

Thank you to @xdaddysprincessxx for the tag!!

This is a WIP I have been working on for a while and I'm too nervous to share it. It features the Mandalorian Din Djarin and a mysterious beskar-clad soldier hiding on a moon in the outer rim. This is a snippet of the nearly 20k words I currently have written. This is unedited, unbeta'd, and idk if it's good but I like it.

CW: Self-harm, cutting

Luck is on your side, as the moon you call home is currently in the shadow of its nearby planet, reflecting no sunlight for the evening, bathing it in a rare darkness. You know your environment well enough to be able to stay camouflaged, but this darkness has made your approach nearly effortless.

You now stand behind a large boulder, having made it to within easy firing distance of the old gunship’s open hull and the shiny asshole on board appears none the wiser. Still, you’re not the best shot even from this short distance. You don’t want to miss this shot. You can’t miss. Your lack of confidence in your aim combined with your over confidence in your close-combat skills presses you forward eagerly.

You round the boulder to close the distance and freeze. He’s cradling that little green thing in his arms. The fucking adorable creature with the huge eyes. He’s trying to shove some kind of - food? - at it while it begins to wail in his arms.

“Fuuuuck… It’s a baby. It’s a fucking big-eared, wide-eyed, too cute for words baby. FUCK. What now?” Realizing you’re standing out in the open with your gun raised in front of you, you step back behind the boulder. “What are you gonna do now? Run over there and kill the Mandalorian in front of it? Kill it too? OBVIOUSLY NOT. Kill the Mandalorian and… take the baby back home? Raise it yourself? I mean…. Slightly tempting, but no, not feasible. You have a lot on your plate, you don’t have time to snuggle and smooch that adorable green face, why are you even thinking about that? Fuck.”

You peek your head out over the top of the boulder, watching the baby take the food and stop crying. You keep watching as the Mandalorian continues to rock the baby for a while longer before setting him down in a tiny hammock at the front of the hull. The baby is quiet and still now, he must be asleep.

“Why are you still watching this? Why haven’t you gone over there yet? He has been distracted this whole time. This is your chance. You’re wasting your opportunity.” You don’t move. “He is taking care of that baby. If you kill him what happens to it? Who will feed it? Who will rock it to sleep and tuck it into its little hammock?”

You remain statue still behind the rock while you watch the Mandalorian stand at the ramp, looking out as the hull door slowly closes. “This is your LAST chance. Shoot him. FUCKING SHOOT HIM, HE’S LEAVING!!” You don’t move an inch.

Moments later the engine roars to life and the ship begins its ascent back into the atmosphere. You watch it lift into the sky and continue to stay tucked behind the boulder long after it's out of sight. “You’re so fucking weak. You couldn’t even put down one man accompanied by a tiny, helpless baby. He knows about you. He knows about your armor. He knows where you are. He wanted to take the armor. What else did he want to take?”

You shake your head, hoping to rattle loose the poisonous thoughts circling around your brain. It doesn’t work. “He could come back. He could send other people here. Your secret isn’t safe. He’s going to get you killed. You’re going to get yourself killed. You’re so fucking weak. You failed. Again.”

You rip your glove off and push up your sleeve, revealing skin covered in lines. You unsheathe your dagger and drag it across the inside of your forearm, silencing the voices in your head. You watch the red line form and slowly drip onto the ground. After a few quiet minutes, you resheathe your dagger, push your sleeve back down, and put your glove back on. You force the ache in your chest down deep and focus on the pain in your arm.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you head back to your home built into the ridge nearby. “A fucking Mandalorian. It’s always a fucking Mandalorian.”

#if you'd read this let me know #Mandalorian Facfic #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader

[burnwater13]

Greef Karga could be a very silly man. Just because Grogu had a mouthful of beautiful, shiny, pointy teeth, the gigantic human thought Grogu, Grogu mind you, who barely didn’t even come up to the tall man’s knee, or even half way up, truth be told, would try to eat him! It was laughable. 

At least that made Grogu giggle. The Mandalorian and the other people who had survived the Reptavian attack had laughed. Of course they stopped laughing as soon as Grogu actually healed the leader of the Nevarro chapter of the Intra-Galactic Bounty Hunters Guild, LLC. Unfortunately for those people they didn’t last long enough to laugh with or at Grogu or Greef Karga about anything else. 

But getting back to the whole eating things that are a lot bigger than you and many things were a lot bigger than Grogu, you really had to have a plan. You had to have time. You needed the right tools and equipment. And, you have to have a place to store it all. This was critical when you considered how big Greef Karga was and how small Grogu is. Or if you replaced Greef Karga with a big critter like a Reptavian or even an actual Womp rat. 

Grogu had none of the tools and equipment. He didn’t have a storage space that was adequate. He didn’t even have the time to perform a task like that. Sure, he’d made a plan. He always had a plan. When you spend so much time on the run from the Empire, you get pretty good at planning. He was surprised that Greef Karga and his friends weren’t better at it. 

Sure the Mandalorian seemed like a loner and very focused on just one thing, but that was actually Karga projecting his thoughts on the other bounty hunter. Greef must have figured that to be as good at bounty hunting as Din Djarin actually was, the Mandalorian must be just like him, only more so. Nothing could be farther from the truth. 

Din Djarin made friends everywhere he went. He didn’t just collect bounties for the credits that he would hand over to the Foundlings’ Fund. Nope. He also cared about the ethics of what the people he collected had exhibited. He gave them a chance to be honest. To enjoy their freedom. To be honorable. If they couldn’t manage to do that… well, then he brought them in cold. Living, but cold. Grogu wasn’t sure that he could manage that moral tight rope, but he knew that his dad could. 

Now of course the Mandalorian didn’t take foolish risks. He was thoughtful and had plans. Oh so many plans. He could have been called the Planalorian, which Grogu found quite funny. And even when Din Djarin’s plans didn’t work out, he just moved on to the next plan in his pocket. He didn’t sit on Nevarro and whine that a little tiny person like Grogu was going to eat him just because he’d had the misfortune to get injured during his own nefarious plot to trick the Mandalorian into giving Grogu back to the Imps. 

The first time Grogu had tried to heal his dad, the Mandalorian had just put him back in his pram and continued to try to close the wounds he had with that strange electric thing. Now that thing had looked like an eating utensil and not a device for healing wounds, but the Mandalorian hadn’t accused him of trying to eat him. Far from it. 

Well, Grogu hoped that one day Greef Karga would learn all the lessons he had obviously missed during his education. You had to make friends in order for your plans to work. You had to be honorable to have your friends cover your ‘6’, whatever that was. You had to care about something more than credits to gain both satisfaction and contentment in life.  And you had to find your family. Wherever they were and protect them like your life depended on it, because sometimes it did. 

It was good for Greef Karga that Grogu found him silly. The next thing you knew he’d be asking Grogu to do ‘the magic hand thing’ again and Grogu only liked doing that when it made a difference, which is why he preferred eating frogs. They were a lot less trouble. 

#calendar prompt a day #the mandalorian #grogu #din djarin #Greef Karga

[lawrites]

Chrome & Chemises

A Star Wars/Pride & Prejudice Story

Din Djarin x Plus Size! Gender Neutral Reader

Part 2

CW: bit of body-shaming, slightly down inner thoughts, reader IS gender neutral but DOES wear a dress. Also pants at some point tho! I promise! I won't describe your body besides general softness and maybe a tummy 🙂. Society is gender-neutral but does hold power in riches...and sometimes outdated talk/etc because P&P.

Also unfortunately, Y/N will be used. I have no idea how to get around it in this story, so I apologize. It will be used only when I have to. This story mainly follows P&P 2005 to a T, but in space with Mando. 🤷

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single Man(dalorian) in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a partner. However, you are certain that Mando, whatever his real name is, would be the last man you would every think to choose as your own, and you are certain he thinks the same after your brief interactions at the ball.

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

It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single person in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a partner. However, as you listen to your mother enumerate every grace you must "take care" to follow around such people, you find yourself instead glancing away and up through slightly wavy glass panels and towards the many ships that glide overhead. You have to hold in a sigh as you consider your options, the unspoken ones that even your mother won't say plainly.

You want to see the stars, the planets beyond, the entire galaxy. Your station, however, would prohibit you from following that dream, as your father did not make enough in a year to keep a ship that could take you beyond your port, let alone your planet. A shiny, chrome-covered one slowly moves into your visage, and you sigh seeing the glittering lights below reflected in its hull. You have never seen one of its like before in your little spaceport, most others being expensive but older ships, relics of the past. This one has the finest and best of modern technology.

Being brought back to the present, you hear a brisk knock at the door. Your mother shoots out of her seat to creep over and spy on Betsey as she answers it. You look back to your window to steal one final glance at the hulking beast made of chrome before it disappears behind the Lucas's abode nearby.

Your sister, Jane, lightly taps your arm to get your attention. Her voice is clear as a bell but softened to a whisper as she moves her head so only you can read her lips, "Why would you be looking outside when we have a guest?" Her shining blue eyes catch yours, full of just the slightest hint of mischief and no more as she continues, "This is behavior I would never expect from my most beloved sibling."

You do your best to suppress a chuckle and smile as you answer back, "Yes, entirely unlike me to be bored by Mama's lessons with a want to escape." You roll your eyes in an exaggerated manner to show your distaste at what seems to be your mother's fiftieth lecture about proper behavior for young people looking to marry.

Her joyous shriek suddenly cuts through any thought you previously had, causing Jane to close her mouth and lose her reply as your mother barrels into the room, all aflush and breathing heavily.

"Oh wonderful news, my dears! Wonderful, wonderful news!"

She stops, seems to try to gather her thoughts, and then hurries out the door again. You can hear her footfalls lead her to your father's study, where the door opens and shuts finally. Your younger siblings spring up, already moving towards his door to see what has your mother all aflutter. With a secret glance to Jane, you both follow, propriety unable to convince you to stay still.

With your ear pressed against the door, you can hear the slightly muffled voices of your father and mother.

"-Netherfield has been let at last! Can you believe it, Mr. Bennet?"

You can almost see his expression as he no doubt readies a retort, but your sister Lydia interjects.

"A Mr. Bingly has just arrived in a chrome ship!"

Your sibling Kitty is practically bouncing up and down as they stage-whisper, "He has five thousand a year!"

Lydia and Kitty look to each other and finish their description with a unison, "He's single!"

Jane looks to you with a guarded expression, but unable to hide the slightest bit of hope in her eyes from your own which know her so well. Her beautiful face flushes as she bashfully looks down to the floor, her hands clutching her skirt.

You hear the muffled voice of your mother continue through the door, "...what a fine thing for our children!"

A creak signals that your father has gotten up from his chair, a low chuckle begins his response. "How could it affect them?"

You bring your siblings back from the door, shushing their giggles as your mother starts to rant about her nerves and his teasing. "You know he must marry one of them!"

The study door opens to reveal the face of your father, who meets your eyes with a knowing look first, almost as if he knew what you were all up to only moments before. "Oh! Heavens! People!"

He trudges away and calls back to your mother's following form, "Oh! So that must be the only reason he settled here?" All of the Bennet siblings, yourself included, rush after them, returning to the drawing room where your father collapses into a chair with a huff, folding his paper.

Your mother presents herself directly in front of him, and if you knew her worse you may have thought she would abandon propriety and stomp her foot in frustration. "You just need to visit him!"

Your father looks past her, meets your eyes once more, and with a subtle nod, he looks to your mother. "Not to worry my dear," his eyes twinkle in mirth, "I already have."

It seems as if the room explodes with the voices of your siblings, or at least Kitty and Lydia, and your mother asking questions. Mary sits primly at her piano bench while you and Jane patiently wait for your father to continue. He holds up a hand, "I give my consent for him to marry whichever of you he may choose."

Your mother is practically exploding in excitement as she asks, "...will he come to the ball tomorrow?"

"...he shall."

Suddenly the two youngest Bennets pull both you and Jane to them, spitting off rapid-fire requests to borrow this and that. As they promising chores for weeks and months your Mother almost cries in relief, your father laughs at the scene, and Jane tries to placate your easily excitable siblings.

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

The ball finds you and Jane standing to the side as your younger siblings find any partner who will take them for the first dance. You look to your breathtaking sister, her hair somehow falling in perfect curls that frame her angelic face. Your own is fairly beautiful, with your hair passable for a ball, of course.

"If every eligible person in this room does not end the night in love with you, then I am no judge of beauty."

You sister laughs, her cheeks pink with joy, "...or people!"

Surprised at her teasing reply, you let a smile take over your whole expression as you start your own sentence with an answering laugh, "Oh no, those that are able to choose whom they can marry are far too easy to judge."

You see, your progressive, "modern" society determined eventually that keeping women and those outside of the gender spectrum from having a place at the table, so to speak, was putting a halt to progress. However, though the patriarchy was supposedly demolished, that doesn't mean that there weren't still systems of power in place. Riches could still buy you more than anything, and your family was not rich.

You did well for yourselves, of course. And thank whoever decides fate that you never experienced hunger or hardship at all growing up, but...once your father dies your mother will have to live on his income, having no job or trade for herself. With that in mind, your childhood home, Longbourn, would follow the money as most things do. It would go to the next person in your family that has a trade, which would be a distant cousin as far as you know.

Your siblings and yourself had been raised to be married off, as your mother was traditional. Though you argued, there was no way to start a trade at a young age as you wished. Oh no. Your mother made you sit and work on grace, propriety, beauty.

While Jane is lithe, slender, and seems to just glide across the room, you have always had a bit of extra weight. You exercise regularly through target practice and walking, and you even eat the same portions as everyone. Your body is just the way it is, and you have worked hard on accepting and loving it.

Though that unfortunately doesn't stop society, especially high society, from having its opinions. Even if you have done your research and accepted your body, you have also convinced yourself that others most likely will not do the same. And you refuse to marry for anything less than love and passion, so...you have resigned yourself to never marry. But that doesn't mean you're jealous of beautiful Jane. In fact, she is so agreeable that it would be criminal to hate her in your eyes. Her agreeable nature seems to win through her own response. "They are not all bad, you know."

"Oh! Those rich people who lord over us? Humorless poppycocks in my limited experience. They think that they have a special quality only due to the authority of some money they haven't even earned."

Jane, unable to be swayed in her optimism, holds onto your arm as she giggles. "Oh, one day someone will catch your eye and then you'll have to watch your tongue."

Almost in response, the metal doors of the Lucas's house slide open, seemingly sucking the air out of the room with them. You and Jane crane your necks to glance over the heads of those in front of you, seeing the dance floor part as everyone stops moving and the musicians halt their tune. Eventually, you catch a glimpse of three figures.

One figure is an admittedly handsome person, their ginger hair and clothes styled in the latest fashion though slightly rumpled. They good-naturedly try to look over the crowd, reaching the eyes of everyone they can. Next to them is someone in a dress sharing his same hair, though theirs is longer and made up in a style you've never seen before.

As you look at their outrageous fashion and their beautiful face that is marred by a scowl, you can tell exactly the kind of person they are, unfortunately. Your eyes, desperate to move on from the unhappy character, finally glance to the final figure, taller than the others. But you find you don't see a face, but instead an expressionless helmet.

A shiny metal encompasses virtually the entire body of this person, their figure seeming to be one of strength. Every step they take brings authority with it, and you can see at least two weapons in plain sight on their person, with more undoubtedly hidden somewhere else. You know exactly who this person is, and can only think of one word as they near you.

Jane whispers almost in shock. "Mandalorian."

The Mandalorians are revered for their battle prowess throughout the galaxy, making them not only highly sought-after as warriors and protectors, but also incredibly wealthy. Though they are few in number after the horrifying destruction of their homeworld, they are still well-known due to the tales whispered of their battles late at night, hushed voices laced with fear. They win almost every fight, leaving with the riches of those they had conquered or with the riches given to them by their clients. They are sell-swords, warriors, dangerous, unknowable...but also very sought after as marriage prospects by those who only see riches.

You are initially stuck to your spot, but then you can see your reflection in their shiny metal helmet and you can't keep yourself from making a slightly silly face. Jane sees your antics and you both giggle lowly, trying to hold it in but unable to keep the joy from showing on your faces. All at once, both the ginger-haired man and the Mandalorian look in your direction.

Jane looks bashfully down, but you straighten and hold the state of the Mandalorian, your cheeks still flushed with joy. They turn away once your eyes meet the T of their visor, and you almost swear you can see a small shake of their head. Once they reach the front of the room, Mr. Lucas welcomes them, and you all seem to start to talk at once. The dance floor fills up as the band starts up again, and you feel a slight smack against your arm.

You look to the side to see your friend, Charlotte Lucas. She glances just over you to Jane. "It appears someone has caught Mr. Bingley's eye." So absorbed in your interaction with the Mandalorian, you failed to see how Bingley reacted. Turning to your sister, you assume that he must have given her the stare most people get when they first see her. Her cheeks are flushed and she stutters, "W-well h-he could have been looking to anyone."

You grab her hand gently and know that she hates being the center of attention, so you move the topic of conversation along. "So...Mr. Bingley? Which one is he?"

Charlotte looks to you with mirth and says, "Of course Bingley is the man with the ginger hair. We have dined with him already and found that he is very agreeable." Charlotte looks over to Jane, most likely wanting to tease her once more, but you quickly jut in.

"And what about the person in the dress and the Mandalorian?"

Charlotte responds lowly, leaning in as gossipers do, "The person in the dress is Mr. Bingley's sister, Caroline. And the Mandalorian? I am told his name is unknowable for now, but he prefers to go by just 'Mando.' He is Mr. Bingley's dear friend."

You look, admittedly without stealth, towards the man in question. Though you cannot read his expression, you read his body language. His hands are resting on his weapon, and he stands straight as a board, with discomfort quite visible all throughout his frame.

You giggle. "Oh, poor soul."

Charlotte pretends to look affronted, "Oh, miserable he may be but poor he is not. On the contrary, he has at least ten thousand and year and owns half of Derbyshire on the other side of the planet!"

You cannot keep yourself from throwing in a retort to tease the man, his inability to blend in or relax so apparent. "Oh? The miserable half?"

You receive a surprised laugh from Charlotte, and you in turn laugh along with her. Jane smiles, but then grips your hand hard to get your attention. You turn to see Mr. Lucas and the rest of the party approaching you through the mass of gathered people.

You straighten, and the three of you arrange in a line facing them almost automatically. Out of nowhere, it seems, your mother appears with Mary in tow. You have to keep yourself from telling her to leave, as you want Jane to make a good first impression.

Mr. Lucas reaches a hand out to Charlotte, primarily talking to Bingley. "My eldest daughter, you already know." Charlotte curtsies slightly. "And this is Mrs. Bennet, Miss Jane Bennet, Y/N Bennet, and Miss Mary Bennet."

Your mother responds. "It is truly a pleasure. I have two other children but they are already dancing, you see."

Mr. Bingly manages to tear his eyes away from Jane to look to your mother, "Delighted to make your acquaintance." Bingley gestures to his side. "This is my sister, Caroline." She curtsies as well, her face unable to mask her displeasure. Though you all respond with curtsies and bows in kind, as propriety expects.

Mr. Lucas turns slightly towards the metal man to his side. "And may I introduce The Mandalorian. Mando, as I am told you prefer. He is of Pemberley in Derbyshire."

You all curtsey and bow, and you give him a smile in welcome. His own stiff bow and lack of greeting or expression causes the smile to drop from your face. Though the lack of expression may be due to his helmet, you cannot believe that he would be so rude as to not at least say something in greeting.

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

Only slightly later, Mr. Lucas and the other older relatives left. This left you, Charlotte, Mr. Bingley, Caroline, Mando, Jane, and Mary to talk. Though it seems that Mano and Caroline refuse to reduce themselves to your station to do so, in your observation.

The conversation has been mild so far, and you find yourself more amused by Mr. Bingley's inability to disguise his interest in Jane. You decide to question him.

"And how do you like it here in Hertfordshire, Mr. Bingley?"

Bingley does not manage to hide his shy look to Jane before responding, "Very much."

You search your brain for a topic to continue the conversation until you stop on Netherfield, the beautiful abode that Bingley now resides in.

"The Library at Netherfield, I've heard, is one of the finest in the country."

Bingley looks almost ashamed, "Oh! Yes...it does fill me with guilt." He looks to Jane as a blush starts around his collar. "Not a good reader you see. I like being out of doors." He seems to realize something and he rushes to get the words out of his mouth, "Oh! But I mean, I CAN read..."

Your sister, ever the graceful and kind person, steps in. "I wish I read more, but there always seems so many other things to do."

Bingley's eyes widen and he practically beams at Jane, "Yes! Yes that is precisely what I meant."

You are distracted momentarily by what appears to be shouting and joy, with the word "regiment" being heard over the din of the crowd. You look to see Kitty and Lydia being too rambunctious in their joy with your mother, and you almost move to scold them before you hear the words you've wanted to hear all night.

"Miss Jane Bennet, may I have the honour of this next dance?"

You turn quickly and see Jane blush as she takes his hand, the both of them moving to get in place. As they start, the joy apparent in both of their faces, you look to the group you are left with. You decide to try and get to know Mando better, and decide to talk about what you are currently all observing.

"Mandalorian, or Mando, as I have heard you prefer." You see him give a slight nod in affirmation. "Do you dance at all?"

He does not even glance to you as he responds quickly. "Not if I can help it."

The finality of his tone shocks you, and makes you feel awkward in your own body. Though you weren't necessarily trying to get to dance with him, you were hoping the conversation could lead you that way, or at least continue to another topic. But you suppose a warrior like him would look upon you with anything but intrigue, and he wanted to not even give you the hope of it. You manage to stand in silence for only a few more moments before you have to leave the side of your group, Charlotte and Mary in tow, unable to keep your own thoughts about your body from racing and causing you to cry.

You and Charlotte bring Mary to your mother, who is doing very little to disguise her satisfaction and bragging at Jane and Bingley together, and move to a secret space under the stairs. When you were younger, the both of you would steal here to spy on the ball. Now that you're grown, the both of you will return if you need to rant or talk out of sight.

The both of you start to lay out all of your frustrations with the night so far. Your mother's impropriety, both of your inability to find a dance partner, and especially Mando's rudeness. You almost think you could have continued long into the night if you had not heard heavy footsteps approach, the two of you quieting your tone.

Mando somehow manages to station himself right in front of the two of you, your hiding place keeping you out of sight but unable to talk more. You almost consider just leaving again but are unable to do so before Bingley bounds over, obviously thrilled at his night.

"Mando! You must dance! I cannot have you standing here while there are eligible partners."

Mando turns only slightly to him, "You know I prefer not to dance. I detest it."

Bingley continues, either trying not to hear that comment or optimistically moving on. "I have never seen so many pretty people in my life!"

Mando scoffs, and you find your heart sinking. "You are dancing with the only handsome person in the room."

Bingley's face is taken over by a dreamy expression as he quite literally clutches his chest. "Oh! She is the most beautiful creature I have ever beheld in all our travels." He seems to pause for a moment. "Though, she does have a sibling, Y/N, that I find to be very agreeable."

You almost want to reveal yourself from your hiding place and hug him. You get so few compliments compared to Jane that even one that admits you aren't as beautiful is sorely needed. That is...until you hear Mando's deep voice respond, his tone even harder to read through the helmet.

"Perfectly tolerable, I believe. And certainly not handsome enough to tempt me."

Your previous smile drops and you find that you cannot breathe for a moment. But then, you recover as you usually do. How DARE he say this when he has been the one acting without propriety all night? You sniff a bit as you wipe away a tear. You won't allow yourself to cry over a man who clearly has no interest in you, you refuse. In fact, you decide to leave just at that moment, to give Mando a good scare.

Quietly, you and Charlotte open the door to your space and sneak out. Then, you position yourself to appear as if you have been hiding just behind them, moving forward and laughing together. You mention how you would love to dance and Charlotte responds that she will find you a "worthy" partner. You don't see Mando look after your retreating form, and you cannot hope to see the wonder that his brown eyes show at your laugh.

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

Though your heart ached at how Mando refused to see you, you decided it wouldn't keep you down. You found a dance partner that you are dear friends with, deciding to take the next two turns with them. Your eyes cannot help but see how Mr. Bingley is dancing with Charlotte, as you cannot dance with only one partner for the entire night. But you also see how HE can't keep from glancing at Jane and her partner. You smile and continue your dance, happy enough that Jane is going to end the night on good terms with the group.

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

Later, you somehow found yourself in another group with Bingley and Mando, though your Mother's presence slightly lessened the ability to make more proper conversation between you, Jane, and Bingley.

Bingley looks to the dancers to see Charlotte. "Your friend Miss Lucas is a most amusing woman."

You smile and you cannot help but feel pride at your friend's character. "Oh yes, I do adore her."

Your mother cuts in, holding a glass of wine and possibly unable to keep herself from her most inner thoughts. "It is a pity she is not more handsome."

Your eyes widen and you hurry to scold her. "Mama!"

But she continues, to the dismay and shock of everyone. "But Y/N will never admit it!" She looks to Jane, who has already started to try and keep her mother from embarrassing her further. She is unable to do so as she continues. "Of course, it is my Jane who is considered the beauty of the country."

Jane tries to interject, "Oh, Mama, no, I would not say-"

You mother keeps on, "When she was only fifteen there was a gentleman so in love I swore he would make an offer. But he did write her some very pretty verses."

You find your chance and cut in, making sure she can't continue on. "And so ended their affection! I wonder what poor soul first discovered that poetry has the power to drive away love?" You are desperately trying to change the subject to poetry, hoping someone, anyone else, will continue.

Surprisingly, you hear a deep voice answer. "I thought poetry was the food of love?"

You turn your eyes in relief and slight shock to Mando, who had said his first words of the entire conversation in relation to YOU, of all people. You smirk slightly, "Of a fine, stout love, it may. Love that is already strong is fed by everything. Though if the love is already weak, I find that one sonnet can starve it entirely."

Mando cocks his head in what you assume to be interest. "So, what do you recommend to encourage affection?"

You want to respond with your true feelings, but you instead look directly at the T of his visor and decide to let your pride run your mouth. "Dancing. Even if one's partner is barely tolerable."

His helmet straightens and you see his whole body freeze, along with Bingley's. You give your most dazzling smile back and gently grip Jane's hand, asking her if she would like to continue to dance.

She smiles and Bingley quickly asks if she would like to be his partner. You don't give Mando the ability to ask you as you turn to find another, unable to see the blush under his helmet from shame.

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

It is almost the end of the ball, and you have decided to keep active and dance with multiple partners, laughing and teasing your friends. You seem to keep people's spirits up wherever you go, and you purposefully avoid looking to the dark corner where Mando has set up. He appears to be leaning against a wall, Caroline next to him. If anyone looked, they would see an uncomfortable man with no readable expression. Though, again, under the helmet his eyes seem unable to look away from you.

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

I hope you enjoyed it! This is really my first time writing something like this and I hope I did the idea justice. :) It IS just basically Pride and Prejudice in space with Mando. There isn’t MUCH deviation yet from 2005, (apart from the mention of spaceships and the switch in the romantic leads) but there should be more later! If you have any comments/ideas/etc please let me know! 

#prideandprejudice #mandalorian #the mandalorian #plus size reader #gender neutral reader #starwars #fanfic #writing #p&p 2005 #p&p #pride and prejudice #din djarin x reader #din djarin x plus size reader #din djarin #mandalorian x plus size reader #mandalorian x reader

[leofrith]

I saw that a lot of people hated the latest Mando episode but I'm not sure why? It didn't seem to contribute much to the story, like I'm unsure how it developed the characters or relationships, but I wasn't thinking "man this is terrible"

i mean. i think you pretty well answered your own question since the whole point of a show, a movie, a book, whatever is to tell a story of some kind. even episodes that qualify as "filler" will contribute to the story in some way, even if it's not in service of the Big Main Plot. whether in terms of character development or the development of relationships between said characters, filler episodes do serve a purpose, just not in a show that has 8 episode seasons that range anywhere from only 33 minutes to an hour, in which there has been more time and attention paid to meaningless action set pieces than, i dunno, actually developing the characters in any way?

and i disagree with you in saying that this episode didn't contribute anything to the story because it did! din has now given the darksaber to bo-katan! something that was previously established as being impossible because it must be won in battle! but hey, here's a stupid loophole we just came up with to justify wrapping up the "din as a reluctant leader" plot line in the most boring fucking way possible (also, we basically lifted it from rebels. sorry!! we don't do originality here).

honestly, it's really not just about this last episode. this episode was fucking bad, but for me it's just the final straw after a season (more like two, because s2 as a whole wasn't this bad imo but it still wasn't much to write home about either) of mostly awful, incoherent writing. it was 45 minutes of shiny colours and celebrity cameos that felt made to distract viewers from the fact that they have no fucking idea what they're doing with this show (and they have explicitly confirmed that they don't).

pretty well every remaining plot thread from last season has now been resolved in the most boring, narratively incoherent ways possible. din and grogu are separated? let's reunite them on a totally different show between seasons instead of actually exploring how their time apart affects them in any way that is remotely interesting!! gideon has been arrested by the new republic? no!! he actually escaped off screen almost immediately and who knows when we'll actually address that!! din has the darksaber but doesn't want it and bo-katan does want the darksaber but refuses to take it? we've just made up this insane loophole about how bo-katan saved din which means the darksaber should be hers, rather than exploring any of din's internal conflict as a leader or his external conflict with bo-katan over that title. etc etc.

they're even dragging out things that have already been resolved!! like din's dislike of droids, which was ostensibly resolved at the end of season one when ig-11 saved his life, but for some reason came back even stronger than we've ever really seen it in this episode. and for what? the comedic value of watching him kick droids and drop zingers such as "you had me at battle droids"? this show is incapable of resolving any of its plot lines in a satisfying way and is now retreading things that have already been addressed. and they're doing it with a $15 million per episode budget. there are people who are starving, jon.

i'm not even going to get into how shitty the politics of the show are because other people have already articulated that in ways far better than i am capable of, and i also really don't expect amazing political commentary from star wars to begin with. but they apparently can't even manage the low, low expectation of "show that tells a coherent story" for fuck's sake. because the whole show is just a product placement for toys and merch and other star wars shows. so i don't know what i expected.

#i had no expectations and yet i'm still disappointed #if i sound angry it's not specifically directed at you anon lmao #this probably isn't all that coherent but i truly do not have the energy #and also have roughly 182769469124 things i would rather dedicate my time to right now than thinking about this shit show #anyway this is probably the most i'm gonna say on the matter #because i'd rather think about things that don't make me feel annoyed and miserable #answer #anonymous #mando spoilers

[catboydogma]

Boba rescuing Din after he's been kidnapped and tortured

im so sorry this took approximately two decades to get to but here we go!

in the dark of the morning (ao3)

wc: 1189

warnings: torture / aftermath of torture, canon-typical violence, injuries + blood, hurt / comfort

He was cold. That was the first thing Din noticed. The second thing he noticed was there was a draft somewhere, and hands on his bare shoulders and face—

“Easy,” Boba said, and Din went limp again. Input from various sources made itself known: Din let the majority of it filter through his brain, snatches of sound and sensation making it through in static bursts. He was shivering again—not so much because of the cold but because—just shocky little twitches as his muscles tensed and released.

There was a hand over his eyes: warm, rough, broad. He was propped against Boba’s chestplate, half-sitting, legs splayed across hard stone. He was naked. There was blood drying down his chest and back. Sand and grit filled his dry mouth. Stinging lines of pain raked down his back and chest. His ribs were just one big mass of hurt.

Everything hurt.

“Easy,” Boba said again, tone oddly gentle—just for a moment. It passed. “Don’t move. You look like shit.”

Din wheezed out an affirmative and immediately tried to move. Boba growled a sigh that ruffled the blood-matted curls above Din’s ear and let his hand move away, finger by finger. The cell they’d kept Din in—Pykes or Huts or something, he hadn’t been able to tell before they’d started swinging—was only lit by the stark suns outside, yet even that hurt Din’s eyes and he winced back into Boba’s hold.

He hadn’t thought anyone would come for him.

“This is why I call the shots and you stand there and look shiny,” Boba said. Under the gravel was real concern; Din could feel it in the way the words quivered in his throat, the half-choked hitch of breath at the end of the sentence. Boba heaved him up and Din didn’t even try to bite back his groan.

“Access codes,” Din rasped. That was what they had wanted: to the main hangar, into the armory, to Boba’s own room. “Didn’… say anything.”

Another beat of silence passed.

“I know.” Boba dropped Din’s helmet back over his head and briskly wrapped him in some kind of fabric—repurposed cloak, Din thought, but it was surely too soft to be someone’s cloak. Din pushed at the lip of his helmet with clumsy, half-numb fingers. They’d strung him up by his wrists first, for hours on end, and he still wasn’t sure it hadn’t resulted in permanent nerve damage. He tried again to push the helmet up, off—there was no denying he’d broken Creed this time, let his arms and armor be stripped away and defiled by—

Boba shoved the helmet back onto Din’s head and pulled him forward by the lip of it, the backs of his finger brushing Din’s chin and lips. He’d gotten his own helmet on at some point and the two of them clanged together with a bright, loud sound that echoed in Din’s ears.

“Ow,” Din said weakly, and was summarily ignored.

“I killed them all,” Boba said.

“We killed them all,” Fennec’s voice said, crackling into Din’s helmet through the left-open comm channel. That must have been how they found him, Din thought with muzzy relief. He was all to pieces, thoughts coming and going at a bantha’s pace and he was missing—things. Probably.

“Your Creed remains unbroken,” Boba said. He proceeded to hoist Din up over his shoulders like a sack.

“Found your armor and most of your weaponry,” Fennec continued, flat voice soothing something deep within Din. “When we’re out, I call blowing this place sky high. Rest of the building is clear. Status?”

“Alive,” Boba grunted. There was a jostle of steps passing and the hum of Fennec and Boba’s voices in Din’s ears; he relaxed into the sound like a warm fire and let their back and forth wash over him.

Battered. Nothing too permanent, except the nerve damage.

Electrowhips?

Yeah. Stress positions. Fractured humerus. Alone it wouldn’t be bad, but…

He’s been in there for half a cycle.

I know. Feverish.

Infection?

Be surprised if there weren’t.

The MD will take care of him.

That’s what I’m—

“—worried about,” Boba was saying in a low tone. Din let his head loll to the side, peering out through slitted eyes. Boba was piloting, which meant that the lap his head was in was Fennec’s. She had a hand resting on his chest, lighter than it had any right to be, and someone had generously bequeathed him with the spare change of clothes Boba always kept in the cockpit. Everything was simultaneously several inches too short and just a little too wide. On the plus side, he was no longer covered in his own blood. Things, Din thought, were looking up.

“Go back to sleep.” Fennec laid a gloved palm on Din’s visor, covering his field of vision.

He reached up to touch her wrist, barely brushing skin with the tips of his fingers, and Fennec exhaled harshly.

“You’ll be alright,” she said. Only Fennec could make an assurance sound like a threat.

Din went back to sleep.

The next time he woke he must have just gotten pulled out of the bacta; Boba was disconcertingly close and had a naked blade to Din’s jaw.

“Morning, sunshine,” Fennec said from where she was propped up by the door to Boba’s chambers, which meant—he was on Boba’s bed. Fennec was tilted back onto two legs of her chair and was barricading the doors with her own legs; she didn’t look up from whatever she was reading on her pad, but the line of her shoulders relaxed. Bright sunlight streamed in through the windows to paint the sandstone floor golden. It must have been early; Fennec’s hair was half-undone, and her boots were off by the foot of the bed instead of on her feet.

Boba scraped another line of foam and stubble from Din’s cheek, then patted him dry with the towel slung around his neck.

“You were out for seven days,” he said. “Surgery was some of it, and then time in the tank. You will need PT for manual fine motor control and your wrists are even more fucked.”

Din worked his jaw for a moment. He didn’t… hurt. It was an odd feeling. He catalogued it and set it to the side to examine later.

“I didn’t say anything,” he said after a moment, voice guttering in his throat. It was more question than not: in the latter half, things had started getting blurry and… twisted. Fever dreams had torn through the veil between conscious and unconscious and Din… he wasn’t so sure he hadn’t let something slip.

Boba pressed a straw to his lips and Din started sipping.

“I don’t care.” Boba smoothed a thumb over Din’s newly-bared cheek, just brushing the edges of where he’d sharpened up Din’s beard. “You’re safe. That is what matters.”

Safe.

“Alright,” Din said agreeably, already starting to sink back into sleep. Boba exhaled, quiet, and leaned down to press his forehead to Din’s. The simple touch warmed him all throughout, following him down into the dark.

#fanfiction #fanfic #fic #dinboba #boba fett #fic recs #the mandalorian #tbobf #bobf #the book of boba fett #din djarin #fennec shand #hurt / comfort #angst #bobadinnec #sw #star wars #a heat rash in the shape of the show me state

[airyairyaucontraire]

Watching S3E02 The Mandalorian, "The Mines of Mandalore"

My reactions and flagrant spoilers are behind the cut.

IS THERE GOING TO BE POD RACING

IT SOUNDS A LOT LIKE THERE'S POD RACING AFOOT

I see Peli hasn't got that tooth fixed, dental continuity on this show

I probably can't hope to see Boba and Fennec and Cobb in this episode, can I? The show's just going to taunt me with being on the same planet and not getting to see them.

nice flip, kid!

"Are you taking out Boba Fett?" Yes, for dinner and dancing.

(It feels off to me when people say BOBA fett and not Boba FETT. It's like the whole PEANUT butter/peanut BUTTER thing. I say peanut BUTTER and Boba FETT.)

"Spelunking? What are you spelunking?" I told you I'm taking Boba out.

okay, so you could just get a canary

and yes... this IS the droid with a bad motivator that Uncle Owen didn't quite buy.

IS COBB AT THE RACES THIS BOONTA EVE

IS HE WATCHING THE FIREWORKS ON A BALCONY WITH BOBA AND FENNEC

ARE THEY ALL WEARING FANCY SILK SHIRTS AND DRINKING FIZZY WINE

ARE THEY AT LEAST HAVING A GOOD TIME TOGETHER

WITHOUT ME

okay, Din sympathetically telling Grogu "I know, it looks scary" is precious. He's interacting with him so much more openly and emotively and it's really sweet. He's entered Full Dad Mode. We have only seen a fraction of his dadliness to date.

what a dump

I mean sorry about your cherished heritage and stuff but... what a dump

you know who you could've brought to help you with this mission?

someone from a MINING COMMUNITY

(someone who also prominently wears red)

this honestly does not bode well for R4

yeah he's toast

and now Din has Darth Vader breath noises

Troglodytes! Morlocks!

I love to see how bad you suck with that darksaber still, Din

listen, just because the air's breathable doesn't mean Mandalore isn't cursed

some pretty accursed shit went down there

(gestures in the general direction of Maul)

So he's just altogether given up on the idea of reviving IG-11? It doesn't matter any more that they were friends? Because he seemed really into that in the previous episode.

yep, figured there'd be Remains

ooh! and a trap

what the fuck is this guy's problem?

THIS IS WHY YOU SHOULD'VE COME WITH A FRIEND YOU BIG SHINY DUMMY

YOUR PLANS ARE TERRIBLE

I WOULDN'T LET YOU ORGANISE A PISS-UP IN A BREWERY

and from inside the giant creepy robot emerges... a smaller, creepier robot

okay, endlessly enjoyable to watch Grogu toddle (or yoddle)

and use the little he's learned from the like weekend (DEFINITELY NOT TWO YEARS) he spent with Luke

"Get to Bo-Katan"

he needs an adult and that's the adult you tell him to go for?

THAT one?

can R4 even understand Grogu? Do droids UNDERSTAND GROGU? Are we going back to the Legends thing that R4 is Force-sensitive (hence he blew out his motivator intentionally so that R2 would get picked instead) and they're communicating that way?

WHY DOES SHE SIT AROUND ON A THRONE

GET A JOB BO-KATAN

well I guess now you've got a job of sorts, Rescue Spelunker

"Let's get rid of him once and for all" "I want to be left alone" "I will immediately drop everything and go to find you on a planet where most of the worst events of my life happened"

Well, when I say "drop everything," she was doing literally nothing

Of course, I get that Bo-Katan must be horribly lonely and really very bored, but jumping into doing this all by herself... well, it reinforces the general, traditional Mandalorian lack of common sense, so I guess she's a credit to her culture

I do enjoy her swaggery walk, good walking work by Katee Sackhoff

More troglodytes and morlocks!

of course he didn't think his dad was the only Mandalorian, and it's a strange line. Grogu's met her before, together with Koska and Axe, and seen them fight (they rescued him from being eaten by yet another monster), so of course he didn't think that, and of course seeing that Bo-Katan is good at this sort of thing shouldn't be a big surprise for him.

What's this jerk even trying to do? Exsanguinate him? What for?

and at least Bo-Katan knows what to do with a darksaber (and since Din lost it in a fight and she picked it up, doesn't that give her dibs again?)

YET ANOTHER, SMALLER, CREEPIER ROBOT

there's just a little eye guy in there, isn't there?

well there was

what was he trying to do there? shall we ever know?

"How did you find me?" "Your kid." The one you apparently don't remember telling to go and find me.

the acknowledgement that Din is Grogu's dad and Grogu is Din's kid is however appreciated

it's not his fucking fault they didn't have your favourite soup where he grew up, you crud bucket

When she says "I didn't embarrass him in front of everyone," is that a reference to Satine?

Interesting how what we expected to be the big season quest, finding a way to the Living Waters in the first place, is apparently accomplished in episode 2.

yeah, naturally there's something ghastly in the water that pulled him down, it's like you idiots don't know you're in Star Wars sometimes

so Bo-Katan has to rescue his doofy ass again

is that a mythosaur? were they aquatic? somehow never pictured them that way!

well, meanwhile Boba, Fennec and Cobb had a simply lovely time at the races, got a little bit tipsy, all fell asleep in a cuddle puddle with Jolene the baby rancor

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian spoilers #the mandalorian s3

[biblicallyaccuratebeskar]

Metal Home

Read Chapter 19 Here

Also on AO3

Chapter 20/22: ~3.3K words

One

Our first stop during our week off, hilariously, was Nevarro.

When Din first suggested it I laughed in his face, assuming it was one of his dry jokes. When he didn’t respond I realized he was serious.

“You’re kidding. Why do we need to go back to Nevarro?”

“I need to check in with the Tribe.”

“Mandalorian business?”

“Mandalorian business.”

I never pried and he never told me why he always slipped away after our meetings with Karga. That part of him remained mysterious to me, the ins and outs of his Creed. All I knew was that it was important to him. I’d still never seen another Mandalorian.

I didn’t like it, but I didn’t fight it. He knew what he was doing and he felt he needed to go.

That didn’t stop me from following him.

He was shiny as hell and walking right into a bounty hunter nest. Virs was off our ass, but it was still unclear if the bounty was officially off my head. I thought it was reckless, so I slipped out after him as he was unaware of my presence. If he needed backup, I’d be there.

I sped after him as he went down a dark side street, disappearing through an open doorway. When I came to it I realized it was a stairwell, and I made my way down. It led to the walkable sewer system under Nevarro. It was dark and smelled of, well, sewage. Where the fuck was he going?

The more we progressed I began to hear something. A hammering noise, metal on metal. It became louder the farther we progressed down the dank tunnel. I saw him slip around a corner and into a doorway. My back slammed against the outer wall when I heard a voice.

“Ah, Din Djarin. Your presence is welcomed.” It was a woman’s voice, elegant through a modulator. Another Mando.

“Thank you. I have returned to apologize for my absence.” His voice was stiff and formal. She must be some sort of superior.

“There is no need for an apology at this time. You are Mandalorian. Those who abide by the Creed and walk the Path remain one with the Tribe, even with distance.”

“Y-yes.” He faltered. She noticed.

“There is something troubling you. Speak.”

“It is nothing.”

“You have abided by the Creed, have you not?”

“I-...”

The silence was thick and tense. She cut through it, her voice a blade.

“Have you ever removed your helmet?”

That’s what made him pause. He’d broken his Creed...for me.

“I have,” he spoke, voice fragile.

Shit. Just like him to run himself into the ground for the sake of being truthful.

“To whom was your face shown?” the woman asked, voice frigid. “It was me.” I jumped into the doorway, hands up in surrender. I didn’t know what she would do to him if he’d broken the Creed, but she wasn’t going to lay a finger on him if I was there.

Din’s reaction would’ve been the funniest thing I’d ever seen if I wasn’t so tense. He spun around, stiffening like someone had shocked him in the ass.

The other Mandalorian looked taken aback too, but had a far less physical reaction. Her helmet was gold, covered in small spikes. A fur wrapped around her shoulders and she held a massive metal mallet. I would’ve died to be her friend if I didn’t just make the situation dangerously awkward.

I could feel Din‘s fierce exasperation as I slowly approached the Gold Mando.

“I’m the only one who’s seen his face,” I told her.

“Hm,” she hummed out with a hint of dissatisfaction. It was mildly offending, but I shook it off.

“And what is the nature of your relationship with this man?” she asked, voice eerily monotonous.

“I’m uh...I’m his...co-pilot. I’m his co-pilot.”

“Yes. Co-pilot.” Din echoed.

“I see,” she responded, walking towards me. “What is your name?” “Larkin Vega, ma’am.”

“Larkin Vega, do you wear his beskar?”

“Uh...”

I couldn’t tell what that question insinuated, but I gathered that I maybe needed to wear his armor to see his face. The only problem was I didn’t. Panic slowly started creeping in when I remembered. The knife.

I flicked it out of my belt and showed her. “Yes, I do.” I desperately hoped that would do the trick to alleviate whatever her concern was. “Bring it to me,” she said motioning to take it. I hesitantly placed it in her hands. She took it over to her workstation and raised her mallet, bringing it down on the blade. A musical clang rang throughout the room.

“Though...unconventional, this is indeed beskar. Was this your intention, Din Djarin?”

He was quiet for a moment. I was so lost, barely keeping up with what was happening around me.

“Yes. It was.”

“Well, then there is no need to fret. You still abide by the Creed.” “Thank you. We will take our leave now.”

She handed back the blade. “Use it well, Larkin Vega.”

I nodded. “Of course.”

She looked at Din. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.”

We both turned and left, and as soon as we passed the doorway Din roughly grabbed my arm and nearly started running out.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

“We’re going back to the ship now.”

“Yeah, I gathered that.”

We scrambled back, not wasting any time. As soon as the hull door closed it seemed we were in hyperspace.

Din was quiet, and not the usual good kind. I could tell he wasn’t pleased with me, but I gave him space.

But the quiet just kept going. He was maneuvering around, so tense, it almost made the air in the Crest hard to breathe.

The silence extended through the rest of the night and bled into the following day. It felt like I had to tiptoe to avoid a landmine that I didn’t even know was active or not.

What had I done?

——

“I have a surprise for you.”

That was nearly the last sentence I expected him to use to break his long period of beskar-ridden stoicism, but it admittedly succeeded in perking me up.

“A surprise. Really.” I smirked at him, watching him close the doors to the weapons closet as I sat perched on our bed.

He put a new blaster in his belt and headed up the ladder to the cockpit. “Have your blindfold on for when we descend. We’ll be there in a short while.”

“So the surprise is a place? Wait, my blindfold?” He didn’t respond as he disappeared up the rungs.

I slowly wrapped the piece of cloth around my head, the action familiar as I’d done before dozens on dozens of times. It had been only a few days since I’d stopped wearing it at night and it already felt bizarre to wear it once again.

The ship lurched as we closed in on wherever Din was taking us. When it shuddered, landing on a solid surface, I heard him land in the hull. A gloved hand wrapped around mine and guided me towards the door. I wordlessly let him lead me, nerves suddenly creeping up my stomach.

The door opened and I felt a delicate gust of warmth blow over my arms. My feet left the gangplank and onto something soft. It felt like grass and soft earth, my boots sinking ever so slightly.

I bit my lip. He’d barely spoken to me at all since Nevarro. Whatever I’d done it wasn’t good. I’d never seen him so frazzled, so quiet.

“I’m sorry about Nevarro. I should’ve said something sooner but-“

“You did nothing wrong.” He wasn’t brushing me off, wholly truthful as always.

“Then why…?”

“Take off the blindfold.”

I took in a deep breath. Right. The surprise. My fingers quickly undid the knot and the cloth slid from my eyes.

And oh, Maker.

We were in some sort of forest, but nothing I saw was green. The sky above was dark and endless, but every leaf, every blade of grass was speckled with glowing pigment in rich shades of blue, pink, and purple. Flowers twinkled like stars. Trees blowing in the wind looked like they were dipped in glitter, like those obscene dresses off Coruscant runways.

Directly in front of us was a pool of water, surrounded by rocks. The water was incredibly clear, ripples emanating from a waterfall and glittering with light as the movement danced across the surface.

My hand fluttered to my lips. It was easily the most beautiful planet I’d ever seen. Words couldn’t even form in my mouth.

“I came here on accident years ago, when I was new to the Guild. Punched in the wrong coordinates and landed here. No population, just…this.” Imagining him as a new and (more) shiny hunter made me snicker. Just like him to stumble across the most beautiful place in the galaxy unintentionally.

“I’ve always wanted to come back,” he murmured, turning his helmet to me, “but I’ve never had a good reason.”

A grin broke across my face. “You’ve just been keeping this in your back pocket this whole time?”

He shrugged, walking toward the pool. “We’re on vacation.”

I laughed as I followed him. He stilled on a rock before, achingly slow, beginning to remove his cape. The Rising Phoenix. Every Maker-forsaken blaster, knife, and anything else that could maim from his belt. Finally, his helmet.

He had a breathless look on his face, also in awe of the scene before us. A childlike wonder. It squeezed my heart, seeing the lack of worry lines in his forehead.

I was distracted like a schoolgirl with a crush, doe-eyed staring at his face, when in one fluid motion he pulled off his shirt and dove into the crystal water. His figure floated underneath the surface, black flexing as he sped through the water like a fish.

Din loved to swim, I realized deliriously.

He was graceful, arms navigating the ripples just like he navigating the ship’s console or a pulse rifle. With ease. And also, while looking infuriatingly hot.

I frantically threw off my boots and socks and hiked up the bottoms of my pants, gingerly sitting on the rock and sinking them into the pool, wiggling my toes in the warm water.

He popped above the surface and swam over to me, leaning on the rock, a small smile on his lips as a droplet dripped off the tip of his nose.

“It’s nice…” he said suggestively, offering out his hand. Something in me deflated.

“I- I’m sorry. I don’t know how to swim.”

His eyebrows raised and he floated over, in between my legs, placing his hands on my hips.

“I wouldn’t let go,” he whispered, for the first time I’d ever seen, asking “please” with his eyes.

Slowly, I lifted the seam of my shirt, crossing my arms as I reached up, letting it fall behind me. A gust of warm wind blew across the bareness of my back, under the straps of my undergarment. I laced my arms around his neck and he pushed off the rock, holding onto my waist.

It felt bizarre being buoyant in the water like that, but any nerves melted away with the warmth of his touch, the firmness of his hold. His strength. The look in his eyes that held hunger, confidence, distant sadness. But most of all, wonderfully of all, happiness.

I smiled softly as I reached a hand up to wipe the dripping curls off his forehead, letting my hand linger on his cheek for a moment.

“You big fucking romantic, you,” I said, rubbing over the stubble. There was barely any room between us, body on body, floating in a pool of stars. “Din, this is…”

Words couldn’t do it all justice. I stopped short, just taking in the scenery once more, the dreamworld fantasy he’d stumbled across and brought me to.

But why? Why now? Why, after all this time?

He must have seen the quizzical look on my face.

“There’s something I have to tell you.” Din’s voice was rich and gruff. Sturdy. But his words were fragile, tense eyebrows and wide eyes giving away apprehension.

“What is it?” I whispered, stomach flipping over itself. There was a reason we were here. What could it possibly be?

“Nevarro. The Armourer…she…”

I tensed. “Din, are we in trouble?”

“No. No, it’s just that…” He was avoiding eye contact, jaw clenched. My thumb rubbed over his cheekbone. “Hey, if you don’t want to talk about it right now we don’t have to.”

His eyes snapped onto mine. “I have to,” he bit out. He was nervous, and my mind was spinning in circles trying to discern why. I just nodded to encouraged him along.

“She held witness to you wearing my beskar.”

I stared at him squinting a little, my mind still desperately trying to catch up. And then it all clicked at once and everything in me softened.

“Din. Does that mean what I think it means?”

His eyes were darker than the sky above, reflecting the particles of light like faceted jewels, big and true.

“Larkin, by Creed we are one. But only if you wish. It can be undone.”

My hand fell off his face in shock and into the water with a small splash. It spattered us in drops but neither of us moved at all.

“Please tell me,” he breathed, chest rumbling against mine, “please tell me if you want this.”

I could’ve laughed in his face but I was too delicate to muster it.

“Want this? Din, there’s no one else in this big, stupid galaxy I’d rather live and die with. I want you Din. I- I need you. I always will. So yes,” I inhaled shakily. “Yes.”

I swear I saw a fuse light inside him then, some dormant light blasting through his skin and rendering him incandescent. He kissed me, fierce but soft, lips cool and wet but like a match, lighting a fire deep in my chest and burning out only the word more.

I dove in deep, water rushing around us as we collided.

One in the Creed.

The whole planet was glowing, but Din Djarin was the brightest fucking thing around.

——

That night I was laying on his chest under the canopy of bioluminescence. We’d dragged out the mattresses and made camp, like children playing house. The covers were warm around us and smelled like him now. A flower he’d picked for me was tucked behind my ear, the soft pink petals illuminating us both as we took each other in. We were bleary-eyed and tired, a little drunk on each other, but neither of us wanted to give in to sleep and have the moment end. He was slowly running his fingers through my hair.

If I could go back and tell the Larkin that was so scared to sleep next to him with a blindfold on what was happening now, I think she would’ve gone into catatonic shock.

“I have a question,” I told him, craning my neck to look in his eyes. They sparkled when he was happy.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Did you know about all of this when you gave me the knife?”

He clammed up for a moment, considering what to say.

“I did.”

A grin cut across my mouth. “No fucking way.”

He winced a bit. “Yeah.”

This whole time? My mind reeled.

“You gave me that knife when I pinned you sparring for the first time. Remember?”

He covered his face with his other hand. “I did, didn’t I.”

I cracked up, laughing loudly into his neck.

“You know if you asked me then instead of giving my a knife there was a good chance I would’ve said yes,” I said softly, voice still bright with laughter.

“Really?” His shock was apparent and innocent.

I cupped his face. “Yeah. You had me from the moment you nearly killed yourself with a jet pack.”

“Oh, so that’s how we’re gonna do this,” he smirked, voice low, heaving up to hold himself above me. His curls fell towards me, the muscles in his shoulders and chest flexing, smile positively evil.

I shrieked as he fell towards me, kissing hard, body pressing into mine.

“You had me from the moment I saw you,” he murmured into my neck.

I took his face in my hands and gazed at his features in awe, knowing he told the truth.

After all, Din Djarin wastes none of his words.

——

When I woke up the first thought I had was of my parents.

It wasn’t a rare occurrence. Often first thing my brain would revert to them. Maybe it was a response in confusion as to why I wasn’t in my childhood bed, or maybe it’s because they’d haunted my dreams that night.

Usually these thoughts came on violently, assaulting me with no warning, creating a tear in my chest that I would need to messily patch up throughout the day.

This morning was different. I thought of them fondly as I moved in closer to Din, burying my face into the broadness of his back.

The love my parents had was something out of the books I read. It was real and raw, my mother and father true in their intentions and honest in their thoughts. I was privileged to grow up in a home built on the foundation of their love. It was a privilege to witness them love each other even if it was for a short amount of time.

Mom and Dad knew the stakes of protecting the books. They knew the stakes of raising me as well. I was reared with the expectation to achieve greatness and goodness if I were ever to be without them. And I was, so soon.

For a while, that loneliness was all I felt. I was stuck in limbo, aimless. Constant survival mode, yet constant listlessness.

Then, things happened. Things changed. And somehow I worried that my parents wouldn’t have been happy about that.

I had rediscovered my power, my connection to the Force, and the fear of myself was beginning to turn into a pain of the past.

I had found a purpose, working with the New Republic. Every day I was surrounded by people who understood the fight my family fought long before the Empire’s end was in sight. My parents’ names were echoes on ledgers and data sheets, and I could almost feel them guiding my hands.

And, maybe, most wondrously of all, I’d found love.

Din groaned softly and rolled over, pulling me into his chest. He gently kissed my forehead before drifting back to sleep, snoring lightly.

Maybe for a stint of almost a year I was a prolific bounty hunter. Maybe I’d made reckless decisions left and right. But at the end of the day, I took solace in knowing that none of that would matter if my parents knew I was happy and loved.

And wow, was I in love.

Every part of Din was lovable to me. Every physical inch and every thought that would come into his head. It was all lovable because it was all him.

It was all so impossible and gut-wrenching that sometimes in the middle of the night I just looked at him, wondering what I’d done right.

When I thought of my parents that morning, I thought of how hard they must have loved each other. They were always under the threat of adversity, but they had each other. I knew what that felt like now. To be each other’s anchor.

As long as we stuck together, there was nothing we couldn’t do.

I’ll be okay, I thought, hoping they’d hear me.

Even if they didn’t, with my Mandalorian, with my Din, I knew it would be true.

[littlepadika]

okay okay what about daddy din with little! reader but she tries to take off dins helmet (they arent married) but shes too little to understand why its wrong and angst ensues (but ends super fluffy) if thats okay ?🥺

stop 😭 this has my heart going boom boom 💕

Warnings: DDLG, gn!reader

You've been playful all day which Din loves but right now it's time to focus on landing the ship. You're running around the cockpit, and jump into his lap.

"Oof!"

"Daddy play!" Blocking his view with your smiling face.

"Not right now, ad'ika." Din says trying to see around your head.

"No now!" You grab his helmet, in love with how shiny and cool it feels on your hand. "Are you watching me daddy?" You can never tell because of the dark visor.

"Wait until we land." Din pulls your hands off him, making you pout.

"No daddy! Play now. I want you to watch me!" You try to take off the helmet, lifting the bottom up until you can see his tan chin.

"Stop, ad'ika! What did I say? Never take my helmet off ever!" He snaps ripping your hand down and pushing you gently off his lap onto the hard floor. You immediately start crying, cowering from his mean words. You had never heard him be so harsh and it scared you. Even when he gave you a spanking he never raised his voice like that.

You run away sobbing loudly and curl up in your bed with your stuffie.

"Why is daddy so mean?" You ask your stuffy. "I jus wanted t' pway. He hates me!"

Din lands the ship, scolding himself for losing his temper. Your little cries hurt his heart. He promised himself when he took you in that he'd never hurt you but he failed. He trusted you. He loved you. It's not like you understood the creed or his duty when you were little like that. He should have handled the situation better.

He walked down, scared for how you'd react. Would you run away from him? Would he lose you? He blinked back unexpected tears. Your tears triggered an empathetic response in him.

He tapped his knuckle on the doorframe. Even though he could see you curled up in there he wasn't going to come in unless you let him.

"Ad'ika?" He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. Daddy's sorry he raised his voice."

"Hmf" You grunt into your stuffie.

He struggles to think of how to explain this to your little self. "Can I please come in?"

"Mkay." You say quietly, scooting up towards the head of the bed and holding yourself in a little ball. Din comes in and instantly feels worse when he sees your tear tracked face. He perches lightly at the end of the bed. You can tell he feels bad about it with how defeated he looks.

"My helmet, ad'ika, must always stay on my head."

"Why?" You ask, but look down in fear you stepped out of line.

"It's okay to ask me." Din comforted you. "I want to explain it to you, baby. No one can see my face. It's a promise I made to my family."

"oh." Your lip wobbles. You feel so excluded when he says my family and it doesn't mean 'you'.

"I want to show you my face, ad'ika, one day." Din scoots a little closer, taking his glove off so he can rub your knee gently. You look up hopefully and Din feels his spirits lift. "I just want it to be special and something I decided to do."

"Okay, daddy." You scoot closer and he happily takes you into his arms. "I sorry." You sniffle. "I didn't mean to bweak your pwomise. Please don't send me away."

"Send you away?" Din is shocked. "Never, baby. Daddy would never do that." You let out a sigh of relief with more tears falling down. "I know you didn't mean it, ad'ika." Din strokes your cheek wishing he could kiss you. "I forgive you so can you forgive me?"

"Mhm." You nod up at him. "But do I have to get spankies?" You wanted to be good and remind daddy if you needed punishment.

"No because you understand right?" Din decides to go easy on you, not wanting to see more of your tears. You nod eagerly and he chuckles. "Good ad'ika. But if it happens again then you will have to be punished. Okay?"

"Okie daddy." You nuzzle his neck, feeling your stress go down.

"And even though you don't see my face that doesn't mean I don't love you so much ad'ika." Din poured his heart into that confession, squeezing you tighter to him.

"I love you, too, daddy." You chirp back.

Din knew you probably didn't understand everything he said but the most important thing was that you knew he loved you and would never turn you away.

"And we landed on the new planet. What do you say we go exploring?"

"Oooh!" You perk up clapping your hands together. You're still a little subdued which Din knows is his fault. He goes above and beyond the rest of the day to bring back your giggles and smiles.

"Look at me, ad'ika!" He twirls in the sun causing light to bounce off his shiny helmet and make disco balls on the rocks. You called them disco balls.

"Daddy!" You chased them around until he scooped you up into his arms.

~~~~~~~~~

DDLG masterlist

Littlespace taglist:

@lafresamilk @dobbyjen @mamacitapascal @prettypedros, @marstheplanet @takochansugoi @oceanablue @iwishtobeastorm @dincrypt, @bac-1, @spacenerdpascal, @cranberrypills @punkerthanpascal @breezythesimp @djarinsimp @mylittlesenaar @bbybunbun @phnyx @xwalltoast @dreadwolfxoxo @xwalltoast @mswarriorbabe80 @bearcina @lokigirlszendaya @pedroslilbitch @star-wars-fan-2005 @din-jarhead @hillgoth @m4ngoj3lly @crabbae @im-a-mcsimp-for-mchotties @girlofchaos

#daddy!din #little!reader #ask padika #anon

[forever-rogue]

okay i don't know about you but i feel mando in this chili's toNITE (lots of valid criticisms about his place in tbobf but all i can see is my shiny metal man); there's something about din and admitting he wants to see his foundling that's giving "[ OPEN ] : sender is openly emotionally vulnerable in front of the receiver, trusting them with this moment of vulnerability" if you're feeling it

AN | Guess who’s back 🤡 Okay, but no, totally feeling the same way!! Him being so soft!! Over Grogu!! I can’t handle it!

Warnings | None

Pairing | Din x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 1.5k

Masterlist | Din, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey,” your voice was soft so you wouldn’t startle him too much. He’d been out here, in the dead of night, for some time, only pale moonlight and softly chirping bugs for company. You’d waited up for him, invested in the little sweater you were knitting for a certain someone, looking outside to check on him from time to time. But after a while you’d dozed off, and even later than that you’d roused again. His side of the bed was still made up and cold.

“Hey,” he turned his head towards you but didn’t meet your eyes as you sat down next to him on the small porch. Reaching over, you gently ran a hand through his dark curls before pressing a featherlight kiss to his cheek. You didn’t have to look down to know the little bundle of fabric with his gift to Grogu was in his hands. You knew you were excited - although excited was hardly the proper term for it - to see him again, but whatever you were experiencing, Din must have been feeling tenfold.

“Were you ever going to come to bed, or were you planning on freezing out here?” there was a teasing lilt to your voice, and you spied the corners of his mouth turning up in a small smile. You scooted closer to him, trying to absorb the heat his large body gave off before resting your head on his shoulder; he shifted the small bundle into one hand and reached for yours with the other, “I know you’re excited to see him again, but there’s something else. What’s bothering you, my love?”

“You sure you’re not some sort of jedi too?” he laughed lightly before inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly. You shifted and folded your legs under you before gesturing for him to do the same so you were facing each other.

“It doesn’t take any special talents to know when you’re brooding and lost in thought, Mandalorian,” you put your hand on his cheek and sighed contentedly when he leaned into your touch, “you must think yourself clever and that you can hide easily, but you can’t hide from me. I see you.”

“You have always seen me.”

“I know,” you smiled softly, “now tell what’s going on.”

“I’ve been thinking…about what the Armorer said,” he admitted as you tried not to visibly cringe. You were thoroughly in the belief that she was wrong; if anyone was a Mandalorian it was Din. You knew he knew that as well, but being cast out by those he had once seen as family still hurt him deeply, “and I can’t help wondering if she’s right.”

“I’m going to go out on a limb and say no,” you couldn’t help reply with a slight bite to your words. You weren’t sure how he would respond but when he nodded in agreement with a stiff laugh, “but…what are you questioning?”

“She made a comment about Grogu and how the Jedi were forbidden to have attachments,” he sighed, gripping the small bundle tightly, “what if we see him again and he doesn’t…remember me or care?”

“I have several qualms with what you’ve just said,” you scooted closer and draped your legs, “and I’ll even give you supporting reasons since I know you’ll want them.”

“Naturally," he finally flashed you one of those dazzling smiles you knew was real.

"Naturally," you grinned back, "the Jedi were forbidden to form attachments because it was believed that this was the only way to focus only on their powers - control - and getting their jobs accomplished. I'm sure it worked for a lot of them, maybe most, but definitely not all. Why do you think Ahsoka left the Order - among other things. She was not the only one with a heart that developed attachments - they were family. Just like Grogu is our - your - family."

"What if he's changed-"

"Grogu is not going to change," you insisted gently, putting your fingers under his chin and tilting his face up to meet yours, "do you really think he's just not going to care about you, silly man? You saved him...you kept him safe and loved him after he'd known neither for so long. You're not just anyone to him, you're everything to him. That's never going to change."

"You're so sure about all of this," he'd perked up, his heart soaring with every word from your lips.

"Because I know I'm right," you shot him a wink, "he's going to be so happy to see you. Just because he's training to be a little Jedi doesn't mean he's not going to be him anymore."

“I hope so,” he sighed lightly with a little half smile; he was so excited to see his little friend again. His heart had ached for him as soon as Luke Skywalker had taken him away. At the time it had seemed like the right decision but he was quickly longing for him again. If he hadn’t had you, he wasn’t sure what he would have done…probably become a complete hermit.

“Well I know so,” you insisted, leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, “Mandalorian culture is all about family, found and blood, no? That’s what you always taught me.”

“Yes, it is.”

“Then makes Grogu a Mandalorian too - and family doesn’t just turn on family,” you slowly stood up and held your hand towards him, gesturing for him to follow, “I know what you’re thinking and this is where the Armorer is wrong. You have not lost the way, not simply because you’ve removed your helmet. You are…honestly, my love, I don’t even know how to begin to describe you. You are so much more than words could ever describe, Din Djarin. You are a Mandalorian and a good man to your core. You would be put out, without a credit to your name or the clothes and armor on your back, if it meant helping someone else and making sure they’re taken of. If that’s not adhering to the creed then what is?”

Din was silent for a few moments as he stared at his feet, unsure of even how to begin to respond. It wasn’t often that DIn Djarin was rendered speechless, and yet it always seemed to be you that managed to do it. You took his hand in yours and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles, “I…”

“You needn’t say anything,” you wrapped your arms around your Mandalorian as well as you could, holding him tightly and rubbing soothing circles into his back. You heard him sniffle slightly before he hugged you back, almost crushing the life out of you with his strong grip, “it’s all going to be okay, my love. I swear it.”

“Promise?” he rested his head on your shoulder as you chuckled lightly. You were sure; and if for some reason you turned out to be wrong, you would have gone to hell and back to make things right.

“I do,” you pressed a kiss to his mop of dark curls, “let’s leave tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” he pulled back, dark eyes searching yours as a shaky smile was on his face.

“Tomorrow,” you agreed, “but not before you get some rest.”

“Okay,” he nodded, a large hand finding your neck as you watched in reverent silence for a few moments, his thumb swiping over your cheek, “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” you promised, “I love you too. You know what else I was thinking - about how the covert is not welcoming you back…”

“Hmm?”

“We don’t need them,” you insisted, “we’ll start our little tribe, Clan Djarin! There’s plenty of others out there like us. Vagabonds and renegades…we all find each other when we need each other.”

“I found you, didn’t I?” he teased as you gently him in the side.

“I found you - bleeding half to death,” you reminded him, “don’t get it twisted.”

“Sometimes fate steps in to rescue the wretched.”

“No,” you shook your head, “we found each other right when we needed to. Soon we’ll find Grogu again, just like we’re meant to.”

“Yeah,” Din closed his eyes as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “just like we’re meant to.”

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x fem!reader #the mandalorian #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

[drasin]

Dinfeld guys! And not just fanart but fic as well~

After drawing, a story popped into my head, so I wrote it extra.

Rating: T

Word count: 1,700

And the big BIG love to @zooheaded who was my beta reader and helped me to improve my work!

Enjoy!

Sitting in the chair, Migs doesn't take his eyes off Mando.

He watches his every move closely while Din works on the ship. With grace and confidence as if the sparking wires were no threat to him. Not a single movement escaped Migs' attention. A flex of a hand and nimble fingers, or helmet tilted gently to one side as he considers the wiring.

There was something so hypnotizing about him that Migs couldn't look away. Such a dangerous and wild warrior now so calm and relaxed in his company. Sometimes he still wonders what he did to deserve it.

What was the most eye-catching was the shiny beskar. Every twinkling light on the ship reflected in its surface, and even though it looked quite nice, Mayfeld's only thought right now was to rip off that damn helmet and throw it into a corner.

The thing is, he's been traveling with Mando for a year now. During that time, a lot has happened between them. They've both been through a lot and changed in their own way. They both gained and lost, until it finally occurred to them that they didn't want to be alone anymore. It all somehow worked out that they ended up together.

And in more ways than one.

Yeah, that was probably the most surprising thing, but this thing had started long enough ago that Migs wasn't going to start overthinking it or worrying about it now. He definitely preferred to live in the moment. That was why he was so eager to see Din's face again.

Mando took his helmet off much more often now. He practically didn't wear it at all when they were alone, which, on one hand was wonderful, but on the other hand it was just as much of a distraction. Djarin was pretty and handsome at the same time. In his armor he was always intimidating, and commanding the others. The black visor would reflect a dangerous flash, and one wrong move would herald death, but when he took that can off, Migs imagined the man was gaining a different kind of advantage. While the appearance of a ruthless warrior would attack his opponent's brain, commanding them to stay away; Din's bare face struck straight at the heart. Or at least it did in Migs' case.

He still remembers the first time he saw that dark hair and those brown eyes; they were burned into his mind so clearly that he saw them in his dreams for weeks afterwards. It was strange 'cause his face wasn't an extraordinary sight by any means. Din was just an average guy. Plain faced, with no real distinguishing features. Migs wouldn't have taken any notice of him if he passed by him somewhere in the city. Guess it was that softer contrast to his usual sharp appearance that charmed him so much.

The lost look in his eyes and his inability to hide his emotions was an extremely pleasant sight; but the more Migs thought about it, the  more he wanted. Not just seeing but feeling. How truly soft his hair was. How it would feel if he slipped his fingers into it. Would the beard scratch him as Migs greedily pressed his lips against his? Would they be soft, or perhaps chapped or hungry? And would Migs see the spark of desire in those big warm eyes? Would Mando even be willing to return his caress? Or would he kill him on the spot.

He must have really been luckier than he thought, because those silly unrealistic fantasies that he repressed for so long finally became true.

Din pulled his helmet down in front of him again when they met alone. He looked at him, and Mayfeld melted under that gaze, and no matter how stupid or foolish it was, he wanted to take a chance, put everything on the line, and put his theories into practice.

And Migs was definitely luckier than he thought, or at least more than he thought he deserved, because as it would turn out, everything was just as perfect as he'd imagined.

They had been traveling together since then. They work, talk, eat, sleep, are there for each other, and teach one another things they had been missing earlier in life.

"It won't work without a new fuse." A modulated voice interrupted his contemplation to make him look at Mando soberly this time, recalling what he was even working on.

"So we're going into town for this?"

"No need, I talked to Boba earlier, he said he had some spares." Saying this Mando didn't look at him, but continued to work on the box, moving the colorful cables away to get to the screws behind them. "He'll stop by later when he gets off work."

"Oh, okay." he replied, taking a moment to wait for something more. Din, however, showed no intention of quitting what he was doing; staying just as busy as he had been for the past hour. At this stage Migs was already bored, and it got even worse when the urge to touch his partner grew stronger. He could easily suppress it and let Mando do what needed to be done, but honestly? Fuck it. After all, he's living in the moment. "Hey Din, show me that metal thing."

Mando turned to examine him questioningly. "The wrench?"

"Nah, your helmet." He quickly corrected by pointing at the beskar. "You look like you could use a little break." A slight playful smile broke onto his lips, revealing his true intentions.

Djarin stood still for a while, so a doubt flashed through Migs' head as to if he surely wasn't too pushy. But then Din took a few steps towards him, and the hands went up, slowly revealing the distinctive stubble and light smile.

"I get the feeling you'd like the breaks all the time." The helmet hit the table with a clatter, and Mayfeld didn't even peek ‘cause his gaze was now stuck in those brown eyes.

"It's hard to want anything else when you're around." The words flowed out almost instantly but Migs wasn't ashamed. He already marked it more than once in the past. Din's face was still fascinating in the same way. This sight never bored him, but always made him feel insufficiency.

He was rewarded with another soft smile, and then the fabric of Din's glove brushed his neck, making a shiver run through his back. Mando lifted his chin gently, and closing eyes, leaned in for a kiss.

Migs stretched his neck, meeting him halfway. And those warm lips with the rough stubble were exactly what he needed. The warmth quickly spread through his body.

Din usually started slowly, even timidly. Migs remembered how awkward his first kisses were; wonderfully adorable. Now as Djarin was gaining practice, the feeling changed, but he enjoyed them just as much.

Migs let him go at his own pace. He was glad when Din himself initiated the need for more closeness, and now the man wasn't pulling away from him, deepening their kiss more and more. He pushed against him and moved his hand to grip his neck more firmly. He kissed with tenderness, Migs could feel it in his every move. Besides, he always put a countless amount of love into every romantic gesture he made. It was so charming about him.

Eventually, Mando pulled away to take a breath.

Mayfield licked his lips and opened his eyes to see how a slight blush managed to cover his partner's cheeks. Din looked warmed up. Yeah, that was the flash of lust, couldn't be mistaken with anything else. He wanted more, and Migs was happy to give him that.

He touched the beskar on his forearm, moving his hand up his arm. He still didn't break eye contact and pulled Mando towards him so that he avoided the small table separating them. Din, reading his intentions flawlessly, settled into his lap and almost immediately dived in for another kiss. He was undeniably hungry almost as much as Migs.

This time two hands were already wrapped around his neck. Encouraged by Din’s boldness, he stopped holding back and took control. He tangled his fingers in the dark curls, drawing him closer.

The kiss became wet and their breaths hot. Mayfeld explored the limits by pressing against him with growing desire. The pauses for breath were short, and each further lips meeting more passionately. He used his tongue and then the teeth to bite his lips gently. His free hand landed on his knee and he slowly traveled higher up on the inside of his thigh avoiding the beskar. He stopped just before his groin squeezing grip tighter.

Djarin shook under his touch, reacting to each action by clenching his fists harder on the material of his shirt. At one point, he began to moan softly into his mouth, overwhelmed by the intensity of the touch.

Migs couldn't help the smile that widened his lips. That was the reaction he was hoping for. He wanted more, he wanted to explore what condition he would be able to bring him to.

"Din, I brought you some spare parts. Stop kissing and tell me where the problem is." The sudden opening of the door as well as Boba's voice were equally startling.

Migs only flinched slightly, not even wanting to think about letting go of his partner. Din immediately jumped up from his lap as if burned. An unpleasant chill got to him at once, and Djarin's face disappeared hastily under his helmet.

"Sure, um... come in." Mando coughed, bringing his voice as well as his breathing to order. The helmet in Fett's case wasn't necessary, but he guessed Din didn't trust his facial expressions. He couldn't hide his emotions well, so he probably wanted to hide himself now.

Mayfeld sighed in disappointment and rested his chin on his hand, now watching the two Mandalorians rummage around the wires.

And it had been so nice... Fett could have at least warned them beforehand.

But he wasn't going to ruin his mood with that now. Migs couldn't be so easily distracted from something he wanted. Especially from Din. They would continue this tonight.

Or as soon as the intruder was gone.

#dinfeld #the mandalorian #din djarin #migs mayfeld #art #fanfic #din djarin x migs mayfled