#The Mandalorian One Shot

[hyperactively-me]

tension

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I love you."

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

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

A thank you, if you will.

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

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

. . .

Din Djarin (The Mandalorian) Masterlist

#➶-͙˚ ༘✶ din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #din dijarin x reader #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin one shot #din dijarin fanfiction #the mandalorian one shot #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fan fiction #mando x reader #mandalorian imagine #hyperactivelyme

[peterparkersnose]

Sucks to Suck

pairing: Din Djarin x senator!reader

word count: 2.7k

warnings: near death experience, sexual references, sexual thots, not smut but sensual i guess?, alcohol consumption and drunk reader, respect of consent, SEXUAL TENSION and description of weaponds and snakes, tiny bit of body dysmorphia, swearing, takes place in between S2 of the Mandalorian and The Book of Boba Fett

The Mandalorian Airs Tomorrow!

a/n you guys see my padme reference there? huh? enjoy the tension the not angst but angst i loved writing this (it is 1am help i started writing this at 10pm) the sighing gif is literally din giving into his intrusive thoughts this whole story it was too perfect not to use (also i make up star wars planets lmao wut) my favorite mandalorian fic of mine besides secret

summary Din is Senator Y/N’s bodyguard and helps her after an attack

masterlist

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read time: 10 mins 1 seconds

The Mandalorian your father hired to protect you while you were visiting planet Elaeia was less than ideal.

The same one who also came back to accompany you to a senate meet where there was a threat made against your life.

And the same one that followed you around your whole beach vacation.

Somehow he turned in to an on call babysitter for you. Every time you saw him waiting outside your ship you began to loathe the trip. And soon, he began to show up around your house. Didn’t your father trust you? You were way past the age for need of a babysitter. You were a young adult, you could be the babysitter. And you were a damn senator. But as always, you sucked it up and tried to make the best of the situation.

“Don’t you ever get tired of the suit?” you asked, trudging up the stairs of your luxury apartment you rented for the week.

“Never.” Din lied. He couldn’t count the countless times he had wanted to rip it off and spent a night with you. Chills sent down his spine as he tried to think of something different to ease himself into the long week ahead.

But you were work. Your powerful father was paying him more than any bounty could. He needed the credits more than he needed you, right?

“What do you wear under there anyways?”

He hesitated to answer. “Clothes.”

“Really?” you asked sarcastically.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” he muttered, almost barely enough for you to hear.

“Where are you going to crash tonight?�� you asked him, placing your bag on the ottoman in front of your bed. “Not tired,” he lied again. The way he wanted to hold you in that comfortable bed was-

He had to stop his thoughts there.

“What time is it?” you asked him. “Around 7.”

“Shit! I’m going to be late.” you panicked. “I’m sorry, I thought we had some time to rest.” you apologized, knowing Din was exhausted from the trip.

The dress that was already hung in the closet for you was what you were going to wear to the banquet tonight. Without even caring, you opened your bag and pulled out the bra you were going to wear for the night. Without hesitation, Din stepped out of the room. Not today.

The dress was a deep blue and was form fitted. It jutted out at the bottom, complimenting your shape. It had long sleeves and a low neckline where your necklace was going to rest that night. You tied your hair up into a large bun with a braid around the base.

“Your train is here…” Din said, stepping in the room carefully. “Thank you. Wait- Mando?”

His heart skipped a beat when you said his nickname. You had known his name for a while, but he still enjoyed it when you called him Mando. Din was stunned at how you looked. I mean, you always looked good. But he could imagine standing next to you at the banquet in a suit, your arm draped over his and a ring on your finger.

The armor didn’t exist in that world.

“Yeah?” he asked. “Can you get this for me?” you asked, handing him the necklace you were going to wear that night. It was gold. Large and resembled tree roots. It was to sit along your chest and clip under your breasts along with behind your neck to stay put.

He handled the necklace carefully. His arms reached up and placed the necklace in front of you as his fingers trailed up the back to clasp the neck clasp.

“Dank farrik,” he sighed. His gloves were in the way of handling the tiny clasp. “Hold it for a second,” he told you. Din sighed as he made the decision. He slowly slipped off each glove and set them down on the bed.

You seemed to tense when his hands brushed your shoulders. You turned your head and saw his gloves sitting at the edge of your bed. The skin was cold and his hands were surprisingly soft.

Din hadn’t touched a woman with his bare hands well… ever. Sure he had brought in bounties who could identify as female. But nobody as elegant and beautiful as you. He would never forget the oddly intimate encounter.

“Thank you,” you said smoothly, adjusting the necklace around your ribcage. “You could call this more of a corset,” you huffed, smiling as you caught a glimpse of his skin as he slipped his gloves back on.

Standing in the mirror, you struggled getting the bottom clasp closed. You turned your body, trying to see if you had gained a bit of weight since you last wore this piece.

“Din,” you called sweetly, almost with a bit of song in your voice. He turned around on his heel as you saw from the mirror and it made you smile. “Yes?” he asked in the same tone you called him.

The way you called for him made him think about one of the rare memories he had of his parents. How one called out to the other. It was a brief moment but gave him deja vu when he heard you speak his name. Speak his name like a wife would call to her husband.

“It won’t-”

The sigh from his modulator was hard to miss.

“Can you help?” you asked, eyes looking up into his viser.

“I’ll hold them, don’t worry.” you smiled, your hands branching down lifting up your breasts.

Under the mask his eyes widened at the comment.

Din got down on his knees to try to get a better angle of the clasp. No other reason. He tried his best to focus on the clip but he couldn’t keep his eyes off the way you held yourself. Thank the gods for the viser, or he would have died of embarrassment.

“How’s it going?” you asked him. You could feel him struggling again with the gloves.

“What if I…”

You attempted to hold your breasts with one arm and had the other hand come down to help him, but the plan failed. Your boobs folded over on his hands without fail.

His hands quickly retreated from your ribcage. You noticed the stress in his demeanor, his breathing quickened.

You thought he was upset with you. Possibly disrespecting his creed, you felt horrible. Guilt knit tightly in your stomach as you knew you were going to think about this event the whole night. The embarrassment was enough for a lifetime.

Din couldn’t care less about his creed at the moment. He had never felt boobs before.

“Oh god! I am so sorry,” you said in horror.

“I can have someone at the banquet do it, let’s just forget-”

You were silenced by the sound of his gloves hitting the ground. Once again, his hands were at your service.

“Let’s get this done. We’re going to be late.” he said.

Grabbing the chain once again, he clasped it on the first try.

He escorted you to the train silently. He held one of your hands in his. The other hand held his pair of gloves.

Din hadn’t even notice you grabbed his hand. And to be honest, you didn’t really either. It was an instinct. Trains always freaked you out and he knew that. The gap between the ground and the train car, the speed they went at. Commercial trains were filled with unsuspecting people. Thankfully, the banquet event sent out personal trains for some of the local senators.

Finally you only noticed when he pulled away to put his gloves back on as you pulled closer to the event.

Had he really been holding your hand the whole time?

Meanwhile back at the apartment you had rented, you expected it to be empty. There was no need for a guard, you had only just arrived. Your location to be revealed to possible rebels wasn’t likely, you were stationed there for only a short time. A guard would follow you home along with Din.

You knew Din was capable of protecting you, he had every time. Something about a man in armor killing in your name just did something to you. But the uncertainty of almost everything about him made you push that idea to the back of your mind. And anyways, you were bound to marry for a political reason some day. It was coming eventually you assumed. Dates were never nearly as exciting as an adventure with Din.

The guard honestly was a joke at this point. It gave your advisors a piece of mind though, so you allowed it.

The seemingly empty apartment was carefully broken into. The sliding glass door from the balcony was opened, no fingerprints left and promptly shut as the rebel left.

Poisonous snakes were left slithering in your sheets.

It was something you would later recognize as a similar thing had happened to a senator many years ago. Poisonous bugs left to crawl in her bed.

Din walked you off the train platform and back to your apartment as quickly as he could. You, on the other hand, we’re being difficult.

“Don’t you ever take vacations?” you asked him, barely able to stand upright. He ignored your strange drunken question and kept holding on to you. “You didn’t answer meee!” you yelled, breaking free from his grasp and raising your hands to the air. The mist had accumulated from the oncoming storm.

“No. I don’t.” he sighed, grabbing your arm gently and guiding you back to the lobby with a hand placed on your lower back.

“Din,” you slurred, holding on to his armor in the elevator. Your fingers marched up his beskar chest plate as you asked him this.

“You ever had a girlfriend before?”

He blinked furiously under his helmet. What the fuck?

“Y/N, let’s get you to bed. Hm?”

“But Dinnn,”

“Come on,” he sighed, placing his hand on your back. The guard was stationed at the door. Din gave him a nod.

“I’m not sleepy!” you insisted, angered that you were being forced to end this wonderful night.

Din threw his gloves on the kitchen counter. He was getting sick of the things. After all these years in gloves, his hands never felt as uncomfortable and sweaty as they did that night.

“Here,” he sighed, steadying you by the shoulder and unclasping the clasp by your neck. The heavy necklace seemed to fall off yourself, only slightly catching at the waist.

“Thank you mister.” you said, letting it drop to the floor with a shake of your hips. Along with that you left your heels.

He saw you face dive into your bed and chuckled a bit as he was picking up after you. That necklace was probably worth more than the beskar he was wearing.

Din eyed up the couch, exhausted after watching you all night. He stood in the balcony of the event and watched you drink yourself almost to the point of embarrassment until he decided it was time for you to return home.

He had just began to settle in when he heard you scream.

It wasn’t like he had heard you scream before. He was used to all the rage screams when an article came out portraying you negatively. He was used to all the screams over the phone with your friends. He was used to the muffled screams he heard as he hid in his quarters when you would have dates over and prayed it would end.

But he would never forget this one.

He knocked over the vase on the coffee table, but didn’t really care.

The prolonged scream attracted the interest of the guard who busted in, spear ready.

Din had made it in the room first. He drew his blaster watched as you simultaneously chucked a snake in his direction. His blaster shot, killing the thing.

“Are you okay?” he asked, grabbing you immediately. You wrapped your arms around his neck and cried into his armor.

The guard ripped back the sheets and found three more slithering in the sheets. The sight of that made you shriek more.

Din’s hand ran across the back of your head. His fingers hadn’t felt hair like that in forever. His own locks didn’t match up to your softness.

The guard removed each snake and silently killed them.

“Cardillian Greybecks,” the guard sighed, now bagging the snake carcasses. “I’m going to bring these down to the base, are you two all right alone or should I call someone?”

“We’re fine.” Din said sternly, praying for the man to leave.

He calmed you enough to sit you back down on the edge of the bed. “Everything is okay. No more snakes, see?” he says, shaking out a blanket.

“Fuck,” you sighed, your hand running down the side of your leg. “You alright?” Din asked, shaking out the pillows just in case.

“I must have scratched my leg in the scuffle, it really fucking hurts.” you slurred, rubbing the side of your leg. Of course the alcohol was still there.

“Oh gods,” Din sighed, asking for your leg immediately. Laying back against the bed, you lifted your right leg in the air for him to inspect. If he wasn’t so worried he would have thought the pose was somewhat provocative.

“Shit,” he sighed. You were bitten.

“What?” you asked eagerly, pulling your leg back. He held on to it though, staring at the festering wound on your leg.

“It hurts. Please,” you begged, pulling your leg back. Din was scrambling on what to do.

“This…” he sighed, hating the only option available. There wasn’t enough time to get you to a proper medic.

“Hold still.”

He slowly lifted his helmet up to the bottom of his nose to reveal his mouth and chin.

“Din!” you yelled as his lips made contact with your skin. “What the-” you began, but immediately soothed as you felt the venom leaving your bite. A needy moan escaped from your lips.

Din spat out the first round of venom. It stung his lips. It wasn’t enough to kill him, it wasn’t in his bloodstream. It tasted bitter and artificial.

“Oh my god,” you whined as his lips continued to suck on the wound. “Din, holy fuck.” you moaned, squirming in his grasp.

Even though you just had been on the brink of death, this was one of the most sensual things you had ever experienced in your opinion. The thought of his lips teasing you drove you up the walls.

He spit out another round. “One more, I’m sorry.”

You gasped at his voice. No mask, no modulator. “Oh gods, don’t stop.” you begged. Your back arched as he took in the final round, finally tasting blood to indicate the venom was gone.

He spit it out on the ground and slipped his mask back on.

“What?” he asked out of breathe. He had convinced himself he didn’t just hear what he thought he did. His ears were muffled by the mask in its awkward position.

Sitting up in bed, you patted the mattress. He sat down.

“That was so hot,” you whispered near his ear.

He didn’t say anything to you. You had prayed he would rip off his mask and take you then and there. Din wanted the same thing too, he would feverishly re play this night over and over in his mind for years.

But you were wasted. And he had a creed.

Even though after each passing day without Grogu his allegiance to his creed drew weaker, he still had his limits.

Din knew you would regret those words in the morning. But the phrase Cara told him many moons ago rung in his brain.

“Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

“Talk to me when your sober.” he replied. He stood up and removed the base of the helmet once again. You embraced his body as he kissed you on the top of your head.

“Din,” you feverishly whispered. Without a second thought, you stood up. His body pushed against yours as you passionately kissed his lips. Your nose bumped the mask up more, but neither of you cared. His nose brushed against yours as you kept your eyes shut. The urge to look was strong, but you respected him too much to take a peek.

“One day,” he smiled, breaking the kiss. “Are you sure I can’t see more?” you asked. He shook his head as he pulled the mask down again. “One day,” he repeated, his voice now modulated again.

“Thank you for saving my life.” you said. “Any day,” he said sarcastically.

He placed the blankets securely over you.

The room was dim enough where he was sure if he was ever caught he would have an excuse. And you would lie for him, he was certain of it.

“Just one more thing-” you asked as his silhouette made its way through your door. He turned and looked at you.

“What color are your eyes?”

He had the widest smile on his face. The thought of you trying to form his face in your mind was almost comical for him.

“Brown. Good night, Cyare.”

“I knew they were brown, I knew it.” you whispered to yourself, convinced Din couldn’t hear.

He smiled as he retreated to the couch, unsure if sleep would visit him after his eventful night.

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#peterparkersnose #pedro pascal #din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin masterlist #din djarin fluff #din djarin one shot #din djarin angst #din djarin headcanon #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin imagine #din djarin x senator!reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian one shot #the mandalorian angst #pedro pascal angst #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal x reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin smut #din djarin bodyguard #din djarin body guard fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fluff #the mandalorian masterlist #star wars #pedro pascal the mandalorian #star wars fanfiction #star wars the mandalorian

[honeyedmiller]

Close | Din Djarin

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

warnings: so much fluff, like literally this whole thing is just pure tooth rotting fluff and din and so soft in this, helmet comes off, reader and din are in LOVE

word count: 5.1k

synopsis: the man in shining beskar armor is one of mystery, and you were determined to get close to him.

based off of the song “close” by nick jonas

not revised (go figure) so sorry if there’s mistakes.

divider by @saradika

“‘Cus space is just a word made up by someone who’s afraid to get too… close.”

He intrigued you from the moment you set your eyes on him. Tall, broad, glinting in beskar, and a complete mystery underneath the helmet.

You often passed him and his little green apprentice in the marketplace. It started off with you glancing at him. It then turned into small smiles on your end, and a curt nod on his.

The spring air was fresh the first time he spoke to you. You were picking out some fruits for your home, when you turned around and saw him standing behind you. You gasped softly, beaming up at him.

“Those are Grogu’s favorite,” The masked man said, tilting his visor down at the fruit you had in your hand. “I was going to get him some, too.” His modulated voice was deeper than you expected, but had a warm tone to it nonetheless.

“They’re my favorite, too.” You respond with a smile, splitting the fruit in half after quickly peeling it and handing it to the small creature.

“Oh, no, you don’t have to—” He starts, but you shake your head.

“I insist.” You grin as Grogu coos up at you, his ears perking up.

“He likes you.” The Mandalorian says, and you give him a small smile.

“Well it’s nice to officially meet you to, uh,” You pause, not knowing what to call the man.

“Mando.” He says, and you nod.

“Mando.” You repeat, holding out your hand. He looks down at it for a second, like he’s contemplating on shaking it or not. After a couple of beats, he extends his hand to shake yours.

“What’s your name?” He asks you, and you just grin up at him before slowly backing away from him.

You knew Mando obviously wasn’t his real name, so you decided to be a mystery to him all the same. You didn’t know much about Mandalorians, but you did know they had a creed they followed. It was strict and hid their identities, and you respected that. You just thought it’d be a bit fun to mess with the man in glinting beskar for awhile.

He knew it, too. He knew you were playing a little game, and honestly, he thought he’d hate it. He was a straight-to-the-point kind of man.

But he didn’t.

He saw it as a challenge. He asked people around to see if anyone knew your name, and no one did. Maybe you were just a private person. Which, in all honesty, you kind of were. You minded your own business on Nevarro. You were friendly, just not very talkative.

You on the other hand had went to the local library to find any books you could on Mandalorians. There weren’t many, but you did find one that explained some of their history and their language. Next time you saw Mando, you’d surprise him with your newfound learnings of his culture.

That wasn’t going to be for a few months, though. He ended up getting a job that sent him to the near other side of the galaxy.

He thought about you every single day. He didn’t know what it was about you that had you in his mind stuck like glue. Maybe it was the way you smiled up at him, how you were so friendly to his son, how you remained a mystery to him. Maker, it was just you in general. Your sweet voice, your kind eyes, your beautiful smile.

Mando felt strange about the way he perceived you. He barely even knew you and he was already thinking about you nearly every waking second of the day. He’d never felt this way with anyone, except for one other person.

Omera.

When he was on Sorgan, he almost thought about risking revealing his identity for her. He’d started to feel strongly about her, but he whisked those feelings away quickly.

He never knew how to connect with someone. His lifestyle always prevented him from settling down and allowing himself to actually get close to someone for once. He had a hard time expressing his feelings, and when they overcame him, he just shut down. He’d go into panic mode and close himself off completely so nobody would be able to experience the softer side of the man underneath all of the armor.

He couldn’t help but wonder from time-to-time what life would be like if he’d just settle down. Sure, he had a house to come back to now, but he had no home. Someone he could come back to after a long journey to ask him how it went, assure him everything will be okay, be there for him when he needed someone.

He craved that so badly, but he knew he just couldn’t get it.

The next time he saw you, it was the peak of summertime. He spotted you first. He was in the marketplace trying to restock on food for him and Grogu, when he saw you talking to the spice vendor. You had that same pretty, kind smile on your lips as you shook the vendor’s hand, putting your purchase in a bag you had slung over your shoulder.

You wore a black sleeveless shirt with a floor length green skirt. You looked even more beautiful than when he left.

You turned your body in his direction, saying your goodbye’s to the vendor as your eyes snapped to the familiar shine of beskar in front of you. You halted for a split second before approaching him slowly.

“Mando.” You greet, smiling up at him.

“Cyar’ika,” He nodded down at you, and your heart skipped a beat. Sweetheart. He’d called you sweetheart.

“It’s been awhile.”

He nodded.

“It’s nice to see you again, Mando.” You softly grabbed his bicep for a second, not wanting to overstep your boundaries. You let go of it quickly before walking off into the opposite direction, leaving each other to wonder about the other for the rest of the day.

That day, Din made it a point to stop by Greef Karga’s office.

“What can I do for you, Mando?”

“What can you tell me about this woman?” He pulls up a hologram photo of you from his glove, feeling nearly guilty about what he’s about to ask his old friend.

Karga quirks his brow at Din. “She’s not a bounty, is she?” He strokes his chin as his stance goes wide, gaze flickering between the hologram and Din’s visor.

“No, I just–” Din pauses, not even knowing what to say. “It’s to babysit Grogu. Need a sitter next time I go out to hunt a bounty.” Din lied, and Karga laughed knowing he was.

“Sure, Mando.” He chuckled, and Din’s face was hot under his helmet. Luckily, Karga didn’t press any further and gave him your name and where you lived. Din thanked the man and headed out for your house later on that evening.

You were hanging your freshly washed clothes up with clothespins, humming an unfamiliar tune. Din approached you carefully not wanting to startle you, but he did anyhow.

You jumped as you turned and saw him, putting a hand over your heart.

“Stars, Mando. You scared me.” You huffed, clutching your tunic against your chest.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s alright. What brings you on this side of town?” You hang up the tunic in your hand, turning to face him.

“Just… strolling through.” He shrugs, but he knew he couldn’t lie to you.

“Uh huh.” You grin, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I actually, uh, asked Greef where you lived.” He admitted, visor tilted down toward the dirt crunching underneath his boot as he scuffed his foot.

“Do I have an unknown bounty on my head?” You half joke, and Mando tilts his helmet.

“You do anything that could make you a bounty?” He retorts, and you laugh. Oh, how he liked that sound.

“I may be wanted for making the best pog soup in town,” You joke. “Wanna join me for some? It’s almost finished.”

“I can’t.” He shakes his head, and you give him a small, sad smile. You wish he would, but you respect him and his wishes.

“Sure. Would you like some to-go?” You ask, picking up the woven basket that previously contained your freshly washed clothes. You popped your hip out and held the basket to it, tilting your head at him questioningly.

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You’re not, Mando, I’m offering.” You softly chuckle in disbelief.

He wondered, for a second, how his real name would sound rolling off of your tongue. He bet it would sound like honey. Something sweet, something pure.

“Sure.” Was all he said, and you coaxed him to follow you into your home.

It was cozy and comfortable, walls decorated with artwork made my locals that they sold at the marketplace. The place was perfect for a small family, but since it was just you, you had more room than you knew what to do with.

You pulled out a container and ladled the soup into it, cautious not to burn the pads of your fingers. You packed the container nicely in a bag, handing it to Mando.

“Here you are.” You push the bag into his hands, and he looks down at it before presumably looking at you.

“Thank you, cyar’ika.” His voice is soft behind the modulator, his heart filling with that unfamiliar warmth once more.

“You have to let me know how it tastes. You know, once you try it.”

A small laugh is heard behind the modulator, and your heart swells at the sound.

“I will. I promise.”

Din went home that night, warming up the soup again after he put Grogu down for bed so he could eat in silence. He was used to it; it was comforting. But it also made his heart strings tug with the wish that he’d have someone to share a meal with. He was scared to join you for dinner, so he quickly said no. He was scared you’d turn around to try and look at his face; he was scared of you not liking what he had to say; he was scared you were going to find him mundane.

Even with all of the stories he had, he was afraid you wouldn’t find any of them interesting. He was terrified you wouldn’t be into him. So, he pushed and pushed and pushed himself away until he was so certain all of his feelings were detached from you.

But, when he took his first sip of your pog soup, he knew he was doomed. Maker, that was the best soup he’s ever had in his life. Usually, he’d scarf down his meals. It was a habit he was trying to unlearn. But with your soup, he savored the taste on his tongue and enjoyed each and every flavor it had to offer.

It easily became his favorite meal in the whole universe.

Weeks went by and you’d make him the soup, even when it was the peak of summer and sweat would glisten on your forehead. You did it for him, because he intrigued you, and you wanted to get to know him.

That opportunity finally came one night when he knocked on your door in the late hour. You were surprised to see him standing at your door with his son fast asleep in his arms.

“Hi.” You said softly, motioning for him to come in. He stepped inside, only allowing himself a few inches into your home.

“Sorry to come by so late,” He starts, “The water went out at my house, and, uh, I was wondering if I could borrow your shower.” He explained.

This was the first time you heard a more shy tone behind the modulator. It was sweet, and you could tell it must’ve taken him a lot of courage to even come here and ask you such a favor.

“Of course. Let me, um, get you a towel.” You walk over to the hall cabinet and take out a towel for him, going into the bathroom and hanging it neatly on the towel rack.

“Thank you.” You felt his visor linger on you for a little longer than you were used to. You looked down at your attire and finally noticed that you were wearing a sleep tunic that barely covered the top of your thighs. Your cheeks heated in embarrassment, and to shift the awkward ambience, you held out your hands.

“I can watch him while you shower.” You gesture to Grogu, and Din hands him to you carefully. The little creature coos, nuzzling into you as a tiny hand clings onto your tunic. You smile down at him as you settle down on the couch in your living room, rocking him softly.

“Thank you.” The Mandalorian says, turning swiftly to the bathroom.

He didn’t take long, and you tried to not let your mind wander to what he looked like underneath his helmet. You tried to guess his features deliberately, weighing the options of dark or light eyes, hair, skin, everything. You bet he was gorgeous underneath the beskar. It was a shame no one got to see him, but you respected him and his privacy.

You wonder how many people have seen him with his helmet off. If anyone’s ever gotten to touch his face. Oh, that man was probably so touch deprived. The thought made your heart sink a bit.

Your thoughts dissipated into thin air when the bathroom door opened, steam coming out of the room as he stepped out in his flight suit. The only piece of armor he had on was his helmet. You frowned softly in the darkness, thinking that must be insanely uncomfortable for his wet hair to be sticking to his helmet like that.

“Here,” You stood up, careful not to wake the baby. You gestured down to a basket that was empty, and motioned the Mandalorian to put his armor in there. You took a piece of armor for him and gently set it in the basket, and he followed suit with the rest of it. “I can wear a blindfold, Mando.” You told him. He looks at you, tilting his visor.

“I know other people can’t see you. I presume Grogu here already has, but, I can wear a blindfold so your hair can dry properly. That helmet must be awfully heavy.” You explain, and he thinks about it for a moment.

“Okay.” Was all he said, and you smile as you head into your bedroom and set Grogu down on your bed before rummaging through your clothes for a blindfold. You found one tucked away in a corner of a drawer, and you held it out to him.

“I’d feel more comfortable if you put it on. You know, so you don’t think I’m trying to get a peak at you or anything.” You smile softly at him, and Din’s heart clenches. You respected him and his creed, and he was so thankful of that. You drop the satin material in his bare hands, which you noticed were tan. That was just one piece of the puzzle that is this man before you.

You turn on your heel so you’re facing away from him, and he takes the material and wraps it gently around your head to cover your eyes. His fingers accidentally brushed your neck as he pulled back after tying the blindfold onto you.

Goosebumps raised onto your skin, and he noticed. Even in the dark and with the tint of his visor, he noticed. He felt it, too.

He wasn’t a man of many words. That was something you both knew. But in that moment, he wanted to tell you you were the most beautiful person he’d ever seen in the galaxy. He wanted to tell you everything there was to know and take you to every single planet that he think you’d like.

But, as always, he was at a loss for words. Too many thoughts and emotions trying to claw their way out of him, and he wouldn’t let it surface. He wouldn’t let himself fall for someone as beautiful and smart and kind as you. He just couldn’t.

You felt yourself being spun around as Din waved his hand over your face. “Can you see how many fingers I’m holding up?” He held up four, right in front of your face.

You shook your head. Everything was pitch black.

“Good.” Was all he said, before you heard a hissing sound of pressure being released.

“You can stay in here awhile and, I don’t know, talk if you’d like. If not I set out a blanket and pillow for you on the couch out there.” You pointed in the wrong direction of the living room, and Din’s lips curled up in the slightest.

“What would we talk about?” Din’s unmodulated voice rang through your ears, and you gasped. His voice was beautiful. Almost shy sounding, but deep and smooth.

You shrug your shoulders. “Whatever you want to talk about. I don’t get company, ever, so… it’s up to you. Or we can just go to bed and we don’t have to talk at all.”

“I can… tell you about some stories of my adventures across the galaxy.” He offers, and you grin toward the sound of his voice.

“I’d love that.”

And so he does. For the next couple of hours, you sit on your bed with your arms enveloping your knees to your chest as you listen to him talk about these intense days hunting a bounty, battling Moff Gideon, running into Jedi, the fact that he gave Grogu to Luke Skywalker, how he won the darksaber and gave it rightfully and respectfully to Lady Kryze, and how the Mandalorians retook their home planet.

He even went as far as telling you that he wasn’t originally born a Mandalorian, that they saved him after a droid killed his biological parents, which is why he absolutely despises the bots. Well, besides IG-11 and R5-D4.

You soaked in every single detail he chose to give you, finding himself loosening up over time while he talked to you. He found you very easy to talk to, and he could tell you were attentive as you followed along with his stories.

“I’ve never talked this much to anyone, ever.” Din chuckles, sighing softly.

“Really? I could listen to you go on for days. You’re an amazing story teller, Mando.” You smile softly, and his heart skips a beat.

He contemplated on telling you his real name, too. After all, you two’ve been acquainted long enough. He knew your first name so it was only fair that he told you his.

“It’s Din.” He says in a near whisper. He saw your brows thread together in confusion, so he elaborated.

“My name is Din.” He says, and he saw your body go rigid.

Your heart melted at the fact that he was willing to give up a part of his identity to you. That he trusted you enough to even tell you everything he’s said thus far, including his actual name.

“Din.” You repeat, and him hearing you say his name felt so right. Like it was a secret of yours to keep.

“Just… do me a favor, please. Don’t repeat my name to anybody, and only use it when it’s just us two together.” He gnawed on his bottom lip as anxiousness overtook his body. He was never vulnerable with people like this, and not having any of his armor on in a place that wasn’t his home furthered his anxiety.

You reached out in front of you, successfully finding his warm hand as you gave it a soft squeeze before pulling away. “Of course, Din. You have my word.”

After that night, you two seemed to get closer. People noticed and talked, but you didn’t really pay any mind. Neither did Din. There were many more nights of him coming over to your place to talk and eat delicious meals with you, which he finally allowed himself to do. You ate with your backs to each other as you talked about your days, another brief mission Din went on, and how Grogu is finally getting along with the kids of Nevarro City.

It wasn’t until the fall time that you realized you were starting to fall for the man in shining armor. It’s ironic, really. The one person you’d told yourself was off limits, you found thinking of nearly every minute of the day. The one that you were sure of just being strictly friends with.

You were falling in love, and you were falling hard.

There were some days you felt you couldn’t even face Din, because you genuinely feared total and complete rejection. It wasn’t fair. You didn’t have something to cover your face to hide your feelings or the soft sparkle in your eye every time you looked at him.

Whatever affections or strange feelings Din had for Omera a few years ago, he had for you much stronger. He found himself wanting to be the source of your beautiful smile and laugh. He wanted to be near you as much as he could, and the times that he couldn’t, he found himself spending every second thinking of you.

Some might say it was an unhealthy obsession at that point, but truthfully, you both were just lovestruck fools. You didn’t need to see Din’s face to know that he was a loyal, trustworthy, honorable man. He had a heart of gold that he only reserved for you and his son.

He never thought that with his old lifestyle he’d be able to settle down somewhere. Now that he’s here in Nevarro with his son, he wanted a family. Not that Grogu wasn’t his family, of course, but he wanted to settle down. Start some family roots here. Find a wife, have a (human) child, grow old with his family here.

He saw that life with you.

The times he thought about it in depth, he truly thought he might’ve actually been going crazy, but he didn’t care. He was so content with just him and Grogu in his cozy little home, but ever since he finally allowed himself to grow close to you, he feels as if the house isn’t a home without you in it.

Come winter time, those feelings from you both never dissipated. If anything, they grew stronger.

It was a busy day at the market one particular chilly day. Vendors were selling caf and pastries, which you gladly indulged in. You were looking at a new painting to buy for your house when you heard your name being called. You whirled around to come face-to- well, helmet, with Din.

You smiled up at him.

“Mando, you’re back!” You cheer, going to give him a hug, but you stopped short. You suddenly remembered you were in a very public place, where wandering eyes could clearly see you both.

Din felt your hesitation and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into his chest plate. The metal was cold, sending a shiver down your spine. You relaxed in the familiar embrace (you two may’ve cuddled from time-to-time when he came over to talk with you), looking up at his visor.

“Wanted to surprise you at your house, but you weren’t there. Figured you’d be here instead.” He explained, and you grinned up at him.

“Was a short trip, hm?” You asked, walking with him through the market. He kept his hand loosely wrapped around your hip as you walked.

“I needed to go back to Mandalore for something.”

“What was it?” Curiosity overtook you, and he looked down at you.

“Not here, cyar’ika. Let’s go back to your house.”

You both made your way back to the warmth of your home, shucking off your three top layers so you were left in just a long sleeve and pants. You kicked off your boots before you made your way to the couch, sitting down as you waited for Din. He sat down next to you after checking to see Grogu was fast asleep in his pod.

“I went to Mandalore to ask the Armorer for something. Something I want you to have, something very significant and dear to me. But I want you to know this first,” He begins, leather-bound hands grabbing your own. “Cyar’ika, you’ve been nothing but a light in my life. I spend every day thinking of you and how much you mean to me and Grogu. You’re brilliant, kind, brave, beautiful, and so many more things that I couldn’t even begin to cover. You’ve made me fall in love with you the past near year that I’ve gotten the privilege to know you. You’ve got me, cyar’ika, and nothing would make me happier if you’d become my riduur, my wife, my partner for life.”

Tears are flowing out of your eyes now, and a happy sob escapes your throat. He untangles one of his hands from yours to take something out of a pocket he has, and he presents you a shiny necklace with Din and Grogu’s signet as the pendant. A Mudhorn.

Your free hand flies over your mouth as you cry, looking down at the beautiful necklace and back up to Din’s visor.

“Din.” You choke out a whisper, moving toward him to embrace him in a hug. He hugs you back tightly, resting his helmet against your forehead. You take both sides of his helmet and lean back, sniffling as you smile in pure adoration.

“I would love to join your clan, Din. Become your riduur. Be your wife. Partner for eternity. I love you.”

“Cyar’ika.” Din’s modulator barely caught onto his whisper. You two held each other like that for awhile, your sniffles finally dying down.

“You know, Mandalorians have an oath we follow our whole lives after we’ve been sworn into the creed,” Din starts, breaking the comfortable silence. He pulls back from you and brushes your hair out of your face. “Honor is life, for with no honor one may as well be dead. Loyalty is life, for without one's clan one has no purpose. Death is life, one should die as they have lived.”

“That’s beautiful, Din.” You whisper, hands moving back down to your lap. He takes off his gloves and grabs your hands into his once more.

“Mandalorians also don’t do wedding ceremonies. We just say a short vow together, and that’s it. Once we’re married, you get to see my face.” Your breath hitches in your throat, and your heart pounds rapidly.

You completely forgot about ever wanting to see him, let alone being allowed to see him. The thought of him showing his face to you made you both nervous. He was worried what you’d think, and you were happy you could finally put a face to the man you’re deeply in love with.

“So, we can just say the vows right now, and that’s it? We’re married?” He gives you a short nod, and you mirror his actions. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. Let’s get married.” You smile at him, giving his hands a squeeze. He chuckles softly, wanting nothing more than to kiss you right in this very moment.

“Okay. We need to say them at the same time, so I’ll say them to you and then we’ll say them together,” He instructs, and you nod to signal you were ready.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde. Got it?” He asks gently, rubbing his thumbs over the top of your hands.

You nod with glossy eyes and a drumming heart.

“Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde.” You both say synchronously, and a tear falls from your cheek once more.

“We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors,” Din says, unclasping the necklace so he can put it around your neck. “My riduur. I’ll love you forever.”

“I love you, Din.”

“Are you ready to see me now?” His voice wavers a bit, and you can tell he’s nervous.

You’re his wife and you’re part of his clan now and he wants to spend the rest of his life loving you so tenderly and sweetly as you deserve, and yet, the nerves coursing through his body at the thought of revealing himself to you are in full force.

“Whenever you’re ready, riduur.” Your voice is sweet and patient. Even if he wasn’t ready to show his face to you now, you’d be completely okay with it. You fell in love with him for his loyalty, honesty, kind heart, and protective nature.

Even so, he removed both of his hands from yours before moving them up to his helmet, taking a deep breath before slowly lifting the heap of beskar up and over his head. He set his helmet down on the ground, eyes moving back to your face.

You were in complete awe with what you saw before you. He was simply the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life. Tan skin, brown eyes you could easily get lost in, strong nose, pink lips, and some scruffy facial hair along his jaw with a mustache to match. His brown curls sat messily atop his head, and you just couldn’t stop staring.

Before he could speak out of nervousness, you moved both of your hands and held the sides of his face gently. He closed his eyes in pure bliss, never being touched by another like that in his life. His eyes slowly blinked back open to look at you, brow creasing as he waited for you to say something.

“Meshla,” You whispered, and he inhaled sharply. He had no idea where or how you learned a word of Mando’a, but hearing you speak the language of his people made his heart swell with absolute pride. “You’re so beautiful, Din.” You lightly trace the tips of your index finger over the curves of his face, resting your hand on his cheek once more.

You swept your thumb over his cheekbone, moving closer to him to press a kiss onto his forehead and his nose. You leaned your forehead against his and closed your eyes, rubbing your nose against his gently.

“I love you, my riduur.” He whispered, and you smiled as you leaned in a little more.

“I love you too, Din.” And finally, your lips connected. The kiss was soft and sweet, but passionate and full of promise and want and need.

Falling for and marrying the beautiful woman from the market in less than a year was not on Din’s agenda, for his fear of getting too intimate to someone overtook his whole being. But, stars, he was so glad he took that leap of faith.

And, maker above, was he ever so eternally grateful that the person he chose was you.

Someone who made him unafraid.

Someone who allowed him to get close.

tag list: @cool-iguana ; @party-hearses ; @amanitacowboy ; @angel-in-beskar ; @pamasaur

#din djarin x f!reader #din djarin imagines #din djarin imagine #din djarin fluff #din djarin one shot #din djarin #din djarin x female reader #the mandalorian one shot #the mandalorian imagine #pedro pascal imagines #pedro pascal imagine #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x female reader

[papurgaatika]

All The Quiet Nights You Bear

Pairing: din djarin x gn!reader

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

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

word count: 1.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[thirstyforcharacters]

*The Hunter and the Hunted (Din Djarin x Bounty! Reader)

Summary: You were a master thief who, even when captured, always managed to escape. Maybe, that was about to change.

Warnings: smut!!! 18+ only!!! enemies to (sort of) lovers, hate sex, vaginal fingering, orgasm denial, p in v sex, unprotected sex, slight sir kink, humiliation/degradation, mean (ish) mando

WC: 1941

Notes: The Din Djarin fic is here! I had originally had something totally different planned that I ended up hating lmao, and this is fic number two, which I think turned out much better! Enjoy the filth😈

Stealing was second nature at this point. It was all you knew. At first, it was just a piece of bread from a food stand to feed your hungry sister. During the war, it was smuggling secret plans to either side; you got your paycheck regardless of who you did the job for. Now, it was taking large sums of money, treasure, and other important items from the rich. You were always on the run, though you were used to it by now. You had been caught before, but escaped every time.

This time, you were hiding out in the dense forests of Dantooine, far away from the settlements in the grasslands and hills. It was the same routine. Steal, hide out for a month or so until law enforcement and bounty hunters forgot about you, then steal again. You kind of enjoyed when you got to lay low; it gave you time to rest and plan your next move. But it was now sundown, and the lack of electricity on the planet meant that you couldn’t do much after the sun had set. So you quickly checked your traps, meant to ward off potential intruders, then settled down for the night.

You woke up to the sound of one of your traps going off. Silently, you climbed down from your bed, peeking through the window. You could see a tall figure outside, but they didn’t appear to be trapped. Instead, it seemed he purposefully set it off. Cursing under your breath, you knew this was one of the rare instances that you would have to flee. You quickly and quietly gathered your things and slipped out of the back door, clutching your blaster tightly.

Only for you to be slammed into the ground!

You pushed the figure off of you, purely running on instinct as you fired a shot at them. But the shot bounced off of the armor that you could now see. Beskar.

You cursed lowly again. Of course it was a Mandalorian. Though your traps had fooled many, and your fighting prowess defeated those you couldn’t outsmart, a Mandalorian was a completely different beast. One that you weren’t sure you could beat.

In a flash, he shot flames at you, which you skillfully dodged as you fired a few more shots at him. Annoyingly, all of your shots missed as he moved out of the way. Unexpectedly, he shot a whipcord at you. You leaped to the side, almost dodging the attack, but the cord snared your leg! You shot at him a few times in an attempt to keep him away while you tried to cut off the cord with your vibro knife, but he was too fast, pinning you to the ground and using the excess cord to bind your hands.

“Let me go,” you hissed, trying to kick at him.

But he held firm, binding you practically from head to toe. He dragged you behind him, forcing you to leave behind your temporary home and all of your epic traps (which was sad, you spent a long time making those). Though you struggled, he was stronger, and he pulled you all the way to a very old ship. He pulled you up the ramp and shut it behind you, finally letting you go in favor of going to start up the ship.

Manipulating your body within your binds, you managed to grasp your knife and cut yourself free. But it was too late to truly free yourself, for the ship took off before you could open the door. Cursing seemed to be a common theme for you today as your fist landed on the side of the ship in frustration.

Footsteps clambered down from the ladder that you assumed lead up to the controls until the Mandalorian was in front of you once more. Though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel him glaring at you.

“Listen, we both know I can’t go anywhere right now,” you reasoned, trying to get him not to tie you up again.

But he grabbed a pair of manacles and approached you, forcing you down onto a bench. You knew better than to resist.

“You’re the fucking worst,” you spat as he chained you, “I literally can’t do anything to escape.”

“But you could still try to kill me.”

For some reason, the deep timbre of his filtered voice, as well as his close proximity and the way he was able to pull you around like you weighed nothing was doing it for you. You clenched your thighs instinctively, hoping he missed it. But as the rest of your evening had proved, luck was not on your side.

He wrenched your thighs open with his large hands, and you were sure he was smirking when he said, “Is this doing it for you?”

“Of course not,” you lied, trying to pull yourself away from him.

But the Mandalorian held you steady, “You’re lying. Tell me the truth and this might end in something we both want.”

Your thighs tried to close again, but he held you open, fingers brushing higher on the clothed flesh.

“It might be doing something for me,” you mumbled, knowing that this wasn’t a situation you wanted to get out of.

Sure, he was going to turn you in for a pretty large sum of money. But why not enjoy yourself while you still could? Besides, you knew you were going to break out anyway.

“Yeah? You want this?”

“Yes.”

With your affirmation, he yanked your pants down your legs, not bothering to fully take them off.

“Not much time, we’re almost there,” he muttered, pulling off his gloves and shoving two of his fingers into you.

You cried out in pleasure as he groaned, “Fuck, you’re wet. Good thing you are, need to keep things moving.”

“Then just put your cock in me!” you snapped, “don’t waste your time with this part.”

He shook his head, “Have to. I’m too big, I’ll hurt you a bit too much if I try now.”

“Didn’t care much about hurting me when you were bringing me to your ship,” you hissed.

He sighed, curling his fingers and prodding a spot that had you arching off of the seat, “That was different, and you know it. Now shut up and let me open you up for me.”

He punctuated his sentence with a sharp thrust of his fingers, adding a third as you writhed in his grip.

“Shit,” you gasped, “fucking close.”

As soon as the words left your lips, he pulled his fingers out, making you groan in frustration.

“Have to be nice in order to get what you want.”

The remark simultaneously made your blood boil and your pussy wet. Especially when he started pulling off some of the armor that clad his legs. You tried not to gasp when he shoved his own pants down his thighs. You hadn’t believed that he really needed to open you up until this moment: he was fucking huge. The Mandalorian climbed on top of you, lining himself up with your entrance, but making no move to push in. You tried to pull him closer, but your hands were still bound.

“What the fuck are you waiting for? You said we didn’t have a lot of time!” you exclaimed, hooking your feet around his thighs in an effort to pull him closer.

The filtered chuckle that sounded from his helmet made you shiver, “Remember what I said about being nice?”

Your eyes widened, “Are you serious?!”

He pulled away from you, sending the horny parts of your brain into a sex-depraved panic, “Wait, please! Don’t go!”

He stopped his movements, but made no move to come closer. You could feel his eyes boring into you in silent triumph. He knew he had you, the sly motherfucker.

You sighed, slightly in humiliation as you caved, “Need your cock, please, sir.”

“That’s a little better,” he crooned, enjoying the way you squirmed slightly in embarrassment as he lined himself up again, “keep going.”

You cursed under your breath as you begged, “Please fuck me, sir. Never been so wet in my-oh!”

You cut yourself off as he pushed the tip into you. Even that felt big to you, and you knew it was just the beginning.

“That’s a good slut, begging for me,” he growled in your ear, but his voice softened as much as it could as he continued, “tell me if it hurts, though.”

“I will,” you promised, “please keep going.”

It felt excruciatingly slow as he filled you up. You could feel every inch, every ridge, and every vein as he entered you, and you couldn’t help the impatient, yet desperate noises that spilled from your lips.

“Told you I was big,” he remarked as he was fully sheathed inside of you.

“Guess I’ll see if you’re all talk-”

Any further insult you could’ve come up with was cut off with a sharp gasp as he pulled out almost the whole way and slammed into you.

“Oh fuck!”

Each thrust was just as intense as the last, driving you up the bench until your head was almost hitting the metal wall with every thrust. It was almost animalistic; the way his hands crushed your thighs in his strong grip, his grunts into your ear, and the way your eyes couldn’t help but roll into the back of your head. You buried your face into his shoulder, trying to muffle your moans.

“Don’t hide from me, slut,” the Mandalorian growled, one of his hands tangling in your hair and yanking you away from his shoulder.

You sobbed out in pleasure from the pain now pricking your scalp in tandem with his harsh thrusts. You honestly couldn’t speak even if you tried, your mouth permanently stuck open with your whimpers and moans.

“Not so mean when you can’t speak, hm? Maybe you would’ve been more willing to come with me if I had stuck my cock in you first,” he taunted, but you knew he was right.

You couldn’t tell him you were about to come, but the way your thighs trembled and the increased volume of your moans told him everything he needed to know.

Two of his skillful fingers rubbed your clit as the hand in your hair moved to your throat, squeezing slightly as he held you down.

That was all it took, your body spasming beneath him as you came harder than you ever had before.

“That’s it,” he murmured as you fell apart, “look so pretty like this.”

The soft compliment was unexpected, but it added to the pleasure of your orgasm. You didn’t really notice him pulling out and fucking his fist until he spilled onto your thighs. Surprisingly, he disappeared and returned with a scrap of fabric, cleaning the both of you off as best he could. Even more surprisingly, he unlocked your manacles, and you rubbed your wrists where the cold metal bit into your skin.

“Think it might be good to keep you around,” he offered simply before disappearing into the cockpit.

You felt the ship turn in a different direction as you smirked. Once again, you had avoided capture, though this time, you had a feeling you wouldn’t stealing anything else.

He came back down the ladder, having placed the ship on autopilot.

“You know, it might be good to have a business partner. Someone who knows where the criminals hide out so you can get a few more bounties,” you offered.

“I was thinking the same thing.”

You had a feeling you’d enjoy this partnership very much.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian x reader smut #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian one shot #the mandalorian blurb #the mandalorian writing #din djarin #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x reader smut #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x you #din djarin fic #din djarin one shot #din djarin blurb #din djarin writing

[ilovepedro]

Space Cowboy | din djarin x f!reader

Main masterlist

Summary: Before Din became one of the most notorious bounty hunters in the galaxies, he was in love with you. The two of you shared a wonderful life together. However once he joined the Guild, things between you two shifted. Din became increasingly dedicated to hunting quarries, pushing you to the bottom of his priorities. Thus, leading you to make the hardest decision of your life. They say if you love something, set it free.

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Word count: ~4k

Warnings: kissing, probs inaccurate star wars lore, Din Djarin is referenced as Din in this and i’m not sorry, very little fluff, fools in love, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, desperate!Din, angst with no happy ending, flashbacks, POV switching, Din unintentionally shuts reader out, reader is neglected, this is just sad 🥲

A/N: This idea is loosely based off Space Cowboy by Kacey Musgraves. I was with my bff and we both agreed that whole album is extremely Din coded while we listened to it. She actually inspired the idea for this one shot! so full creds to my twizzy ily 👯‍♀️ i cranked this out in 2 hours before falling asleep, Din has been rotting my brain as of lately. let me know what you think! please feel free to send me asks or leave your thoughts in the comments 🫶🏼 not beta’d, all mistakes are my own.

Divider by the lovely @saradika 🩵

“Din, my love,” you stir from your slumber, calling out to him in the Razor Crest. No answer, as usual. He’s been on this bounty for a week now when he said it’d take no longer than 4 days. Your comm link had broken, not having time to grab another before you two set off on this journey. Sighing, you rise to your feet and make the bed. Wandering through the ship, you open the door and watch the ramp descend. You begin your usual, mundane walk around the forest in which the ship is parked.

Since joining a year ago, Din has grown increasingly distant as he establishes himself in the Guild, set in his dedication to them. While you’re happy your partner has found a burning passion, you do miss him. Never really around and when he is, his mind is somewhere else - not with you.

Lost in thought, you don’t hear the rustling in the bushes. “Cyar’ika!” Din’s voice pierces the air, startling you. “Oh! My love! You’re back,” sighing, relieved to see him. “I told you to stay on the ship. We don’t know what’s out here,” he says, short and curt as he lugs the quarry to the ship.

Stealing a glance at the quarry, mindful not to use his real name. “Mando, you can’t possibly expect me to stay confined to that ship for days while you’re off doing stars knows what!” Anger courses through your veins, his words sending you into a fit of fury. He shoves the quarry up the ramp, you following in tow. “He not treating you right, pretty lady?” Din tightens his hold onto him, the quarry yelping in pain. “What?! I can’t ask a question?!” “No. You can’t,” Din grits as he tosses him into the cargo hold, freezing him. Din closes the ship door, bringing the ramp up.

“Din! Do you really expect me to stay inside the ship for days at a time?!” You shriek. “Yes! I do! I already have enough to worry about, I don’t need to add you to the list too,” he spits. “Your list? So I’m one of your quarries now?!” He scoffs at your words, grumbling as he ascends the ladder. “I don’t have time for this.”

“Of course you don’t. You never do,” you mutter as he walks away. He freezes, climbing down the steps. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Your chest heaves, words forming on your lips before you even realize. “You never have time for me anymore! I never see you! You’re constantly away on these hunts, while you stick me in here like I’m some sort of doll! And even when you are here, you ignore me half the time! It’s been a year, how long do you expect to me go on like this?!”

“Go on like what?! You know I’m working my way up in the Guild, you knew this was going to be a big adjustment. I told you this when I joined.” You fight back tears that threaten to spill over, battling to keep your composure. “I know that, Din! I do! But I’m lonely, I miss you! Is that so hard to understand?” You plead. “I’m here with you when I’m not out on a hunt, how could you miss me?” He asks, oblivious to your pain, your needs.

“When you’re here, you stare out the window the majority of the time! Tracking your quarries, talking to Karga, finding who you need to pick up next, only ever acknowledging me when you return or before bed! You don’t even sit and have dinner with me anymore,” you explain exasperatedly. “So because I’m busy doing my job and not sharing a ration pack with you every night, you’re upset?”

It takes every fiber in your being to not let your tears fall. Blinking them back, you swallow them down. “That’s not what I mean, Din.” Your voice wobbled and hushed. “Then what do you mean, cyar’ika? I’m trying to provide a better life for you, for us. A life where you have all the things you deserve,” Din says. “I don’t care about any of that, Din. My life will always be better with you in it, no matter where we are or what we have, or lack.”

“You said you’d support me when I joined the Guild.” “And I do! It’s not that I don’t support you, Din, I-,”

“Then what is it?” “Please, stop twisting my words. We never argue like this. My love… please.” Despite not seeing his face, you know your words have gotten to him. He lets out a modulated sigh. The silence hangs heavy in the air until it’s interrupted by an incoming call from Karga on Din’s comm link. “I’ve gotta take this, cyar’ika.”

Fighting back tears is a losing battle. “Okay,” you whisper, pushing past him and into the refresher. Din sighs as you shut the door behind you. He doesn’t know what’s worse - the fact that you didn’t slam the door or that he wishes you did. As he ascends the ladder to take the call, he hears a sniffle from the refresher. Torn between you and the call, he continues his way up the ladder.

Silently sobbing into a towel on the floor, your body rattles as you attempt to control your breathing. It’s no use, he refuses to see why you’re upset. He used to be so empathetic with you, so open and tender. Now, it’s like you might as well be his colleague, one that he barely speaks to merely out of obligation. Your heart shatters at the thought, wondering if his love has also faded away along with the Din you once knew.

Picking yourself up, you splash water on your face - grateful for the icy chill to revive you. You open the door, tip toeing out into the ship. Peering around the corner, you check to see if Din has gone to bed. The bed is empty and made, seemingly untouched. A defeated sigh escapes your lips. You quietly ascend the ladder, peeking inside the cockpit. Din sits in the pilot seat, as the ship moves through hyperspace, the blue light reflecting off his armor.

Fighting an internal war, deciding if you should stay or give him space, you ultimately decide on the latter. You clear your throat before leaving. He whips around in his seat.

“Where are we going?” “Back to Nevarro. I’ve finished for now. Karga wants to meet with me for a special bounty.” Your chest aches. “Oh. Okay. How long until we get there?” “About 2 days.”

“Okay. I’m going to bed.” Thick, heavy silence ensues again. “Okay, cyar’ika. Good night.” You flash him a pained, small smile. “Good night, Din. I love you,” you say, voice unsteady. There’s a beat before he speaks. “I love you too.” It’s silly to even hope that he’ll join you, but hope is all you can hang onto to stay sane for the next 2 days.

You descend the ladder and climb into the small cot you two normally would’ve shared. It feels so big despite its size. Burying your face into his pillow, fat tears fall from your eyes again. Your chest on fire as your lungs burn from heaving. You tire yourself out from sobbing, falling into a deep sleep.

You wake after stars knows how long, eyes burning as you crack them open. Swollen and puffy, it hurts to keep them open. You stretch and climb out of bed, rubbing your head to soothe the intense ache. Climbing up the ladder, you see Din isn’t in the seat anymore and you’re no longer in hyperspace. Stepping down, you hear the refresher door hiss as it opens. Din steps out, adjusting his helmet. He smells clean, like his piney soap. He must’ve taken a shower. He freezes as he sees you standing in front of him.

“Cyar’ika,” he nearly whispers. “Din.” He winces at the use of his name, not used to it tumbling from your lips as you typically call him your ‘love.’

“How’d you sleep?” “Good. How long did I sleep for?” “About a day.” You’re taken aback a bit. You’ve never slept that long before. “Oh.” “I didn’t want to wake you. You looked peaceful.”

I definitely didn’t feel that way, you silently think. “I wish you had joined me,” you can’t help but admit. “You also know sitting in that chair isn’t good for your back.” He sighs at your words. “I know, cyar’ika, but I didn’t know if you wanted me there.” Your brows scrunch, lips turning into a frown. “I always want you next to me, Din. Even if we have a disagreement beforehand, I’ll always want you by my side.”

“I’ll always want you by my side too, cyar’ika. Which is why I need your support as I advance in the Guild,” he says. “Din, I do support you, I can’t stress that enough. I just wish you’d hear what I’m saying - see where I’m coming from,” you sigh. “This job that Karga wants me to take pays very well. It’ll greatly assist us in buying a house somewhere one day. A house where we can raise a family.”

“Din, what part of ‘I don’t care where we are just as long as we’re together’ do you not understand? A house doesn’t mean anything to me if you’re never going to be home. That’s no life for a family. You are my home. All I’m asking for is more time with you, my love. You haven’t kissed me in over a week,” you ramble.

“I need you, cyar’ika. I always will… but right now, I need to take this job. To set up our future for success. I’ll give you everything you ask for very soon, cyar’ika, I promise,” he says, completely disregarding everything you’ve just said.

“How soon, Din?!” You ask, your throat burning. “I don’t know, but soon!” Fat tears cascade down your cheeks, taking in a deep breath.

“Aren’t I enough, Din?” You hiccup, your cheeks soaked in sorrow. “Of course you are enough, cyar’ika! More than enough, why would you ask such a question?” He asks offendedly. “Then why do you keep making me compete with the Guild? Why is this job so important? Why won’t you listen to me? Why won’t you talk to me anymore?” You shout, through your tears, voice crackling.

“I’m not making you compete with the Guild. I’ve told you why this is important. It’s for us, for our future children,” he says, growing impatient. “No. This is for you. You’re trying to prove yourself for whatever reason you won’t tell me,” you grit. “I am not trying to prove myself to anyone. I’m the one who is trying to provide for us, trying to make sure we stay afloat. Someone has to. I’m sorry I don’t have time to play house. We need to have one of those first in order to do that,” he spits, frustration boiling over as he raises his voice.

You’re frozen in place, feet glued to the floor. He’s never raised his voice at you. He’s never talked at you before. Your tears pause, body going into shock at his reaction. He’s gone. The Din you fell in love with is gone, floating around in the stardust somewhere in one of the many galaxies you two have traveled through.

“Cyar’ika, I-,” you hold a hand up to him. “No. It’s fine,” you whisper as you walk past him. “Cyar’ika, I’m sorry, that’s not what I-,” You turn around to look at him. “It’s okay, Din. Really,” you whisper, stepping into the tiny chamber that contains your cot, shutting the door. You’ve never shut the door before, but you need to get away from him somehow as you’re confined to this small ship.

Tears drip from your eyes until there are no more, unable to cry anymore. You know what you have to do when you reach Nevarro. With nowhere else to go, you curl into a ball and desperately try to sleep. You drift off, grateful for the painful headache which forces you into sleep.

A knock on the door wakes you from your slumber. “Cyar’ika, we’re landing,” Din says, modulated voice muffled from the outside the door. You wait until you hear his footsteps climb up the ladder and into the cockpit. Opening the door, you grab your single bag and quickly pack what little belongings you have on the ship and hide it under the blanket on the cot.

You hurriedly climb up into the cockpit and situate yourself in the passenger seat, acting as if last night didn’t happen. Painful silence clings to the air. The ship descends and the two of you sit in silence in the process. As soon as the ship lands, you swiftly unbuckle your seatbelt and scurry down the ladder, desperate to get off this ship.

Din follows suit and opens the door, waiting for the ramp to descend. He goes to the cargo hold of the ship. While his back is turned, you grab your bag from under the blanket and hurry out the door and onto land.

Making your way to the cantina, you search for Greef Karga. Spotting him, you wave him down. He greets you with a smile. “Ah! Mando’s girl! How have you been? Where is Mando?” He kindly asks, oblivious to your hastiness. “Uh, he’s still on the ship. Unloading the quarry. Do you think you could help me with something?” He grows concerned at your question. “I’ll do my best. Is everything alright, young lady? Are you hurt?”

You wave him off. “No, no. I’m fine. I just, um. I just need a place to stay while Mando continues working,” you explain. Karga raises a brow at your statement. “He’s not… hurting you is he?” Your eyes pop out of your head at the accusation. “Stars, no! He would never do that! I just need some space to myself rather than stay confined to the ship.” “Okay, okay. I just wanted to be sure. We can arrange something, perhaps you can bunk with Cara. In the meanwhile, I have a spare room you can use as we figure something out.” You smile, relieved that you get to stay here.

“Thank you. Thank you so so much, Karga,” you say, shaking his hand. “Does Mando know you’ll be staying here?” You avoid the question, letting go of his hand. “Are you leaving Mando?” You swallow the lump in your throat. “I can’t do it anymore, Karga. I’m so lonely. It’s for the best,” you whisper, not wanting to air out all the details of your relationship. He frowns, “If you’re lonely, imagine how lonely Mando will be after you leave,” he says. “Please don’t. Don’t do that. I have to choose myself. I’ll choose me first if no one else will,” you say through your crackling voice. Karga just sympathetically nods.

He takes out a ring of keys and removes one, placing it in your hand. “The key to my house. You know which one it is, right?” He asks. You furiously nod. “Go ahead and let yourself in. Don’t forget to lock it after. Take your time,” he says. “Thank you,” you sigh as you firmly shake his hand one more time.

You exit the cantina, heading in the direction of Karga’s house. “Cyar’ika!” You stop walking, whipping your head around at the sound of his modulated voice. Din is running up to you, weapons clanging against his worn armor.

“Where did you go? You rushed off the ship so fast, I couldn’t ask where you went. I was worried,” he huffs. “I came to see Karga,” you say flatly. “For what?” Confusion lacing his voice. “I needed help with something.” “Something I couldn’t help you with?” “Yes, actually,” you explain. “Cyar’ika, what did you need that I couldn’t have helped you with?”

You glance away, unable to bear the sight of him despite his face being covered. Biting back tears, the words begin to form on your lips. “I’m staying here, Din,” you whisper, careful not to say his name too loudly.

“What? Cyar’ika, wait,” Din says. “I’m staying here, Din. There’s nothing that could change my mind. I’m so sorry, my love,” you tell him quietly. “No, no, cyar’ika. Don’t do this,” he pleads, scrambling to grab your hands. “I have to Din,” you quietly rasp through your tears. “No you don’t. Please, cyar’ika. Don’t leave me, I need you,” his voice trembles from behind the helmet. “And I need you too, Din, but until you get what you want out of the Guild, I’ll never have you.” You shake your hands out of his.

“Cyar’ika, please stay. I’ll do whatever you need me to do. I’ll change for you. Whatever it is. Don’t leave me please,” he begs, tears evident in his voice as he collapses to his knees and hugging your middle. A sob wracks your body as you look up to the dreary sky, searching for strength.

“I know you won’t decrease the amount of quarries you take. You’re too stubborn, and that’s part of why I love you. I never want to change you. I love you the way you are, even though we have our differences now. Din, we’ve simply outgrown each other’s needs. My place is no longer with you, at least for now it’s not,” you explain, shaking in the process.

“Your place will always be with me, cyar’ika. I love you, mesh’la,” Din sobs. “And I love you too, Din. I always will. But I need to let you go, let you finish what you need to do. I’ll be here on Nevarro so I’ll see you around whenever you drop by. My love for you will never fade. Who knows? Maybe one day, you’ll come back to me,” you choke. He embraces you even tighter, afraid you might disappear.

“This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, my love. I’m so sorry,” you whisper as you lean down to press a kiss to his helmet. You struggle to unwrap yourself from his grasp. His hands fall to his sides as he looks up at you. “I love you,” you whisper before running off.

Din kneels there for what feels like eternity. “Mando?” Karga’s voice pulls him out of his trance, causing him to rise to his knees. “You knew,” Din says. “I only found out today,” Karga says, clapping a hand on Din’s armor. He shakes it off as if he’d been shot. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t work with traitors,” Din huffs. “I’d be careful of the next words you choose if I were you,” Karga threatens. Din grumbles under his breath.

“Come on. Let’s go talk about that special bounty. Don’t let her departure be for nothing,” he says, holding a hand out to Din. Begrudgingly shaking it, the two men walk off to the cantina to discuss the quarry at hand.

Back on the ship, Din inputs the coordinates for the most-wanted quarry in all the galaxies. His heart shattered into dust, chest feeling hollow in your absence. The ship roars to life as it ascends, Din navigating through the galaxies. Once on track to Arvala-7 and at a steady pace, Din puts the Razor Crest into hyperspace.

He descends the ladder. He’s never felt so empty before. Not since before he met you. Removing his helmet, he trudges into the refresher splashing ice cold water on his face. Stepping back into the ship, he rounds the corner and plops himself onto the cot. A deep sigh rumbles from deep within his soul. He attempts to get comfortable until he feels something hard underneath the pillow. Lifting his head, he reaches under the pillow and feels around for whatever is poking him. Grasping a hold of something, he yanks it from underneath.

His heart stops and his ears ring, deep silence pierces the ship. It’s a note with something enfolded inside. “My love” the front of the note reads. He opens it, a gasp shuddering from his lips. It’s the bracelet he gifted to you after capturing his very first quarry on your first hunt together, the one you wore daily since then. The two of you, younger and more spry. So in love, you looked like a pair of fools. He unfolds the note.

“I love you, Din. I always will. Please don’t ever forget that. This bracelet is a reminder of the moment I knew I loved you. The day we said it aloud. I love you forever. -Your cyar’ika.” He can’t contain the sob that rattles in his soul. Call him selfish, but he hopes he can come back to you one day - hopes he can make you his forever. He lost you once, he won’t lose you twice. Clutching the bracelet, he recalls the sweet memory.

“Cyar’ika?” Din called out to you, your sweet humming rings through the ship and out into the open air, penetrating the barren planet. You insisted on keeping the ramp open, the scorching heat of the planet you stayed on growing overwhelming in the sealed ship.

“In here, my love!” You call out to him from within the Razor Crest. Grunting catches your attention, making you drop the ration pack you were just about to open. Din lugs a quarry up the ramp and into the cargo hold, freezing it in carbonite.

A smile plasters your face as you praise him. “Your first quarry! I’m so proud of you, my love!” You cheer, applauding him. His modulated laugh is like music to your ears. “Thank you, mesh’la,” he says, wiping his gloves on his flight-suit before walking over to you.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you flushed against his rusted armor. “I couldn’t have done it without you, my cyar’ika,” he says huskily in your ear. Your smile grows even wider. “I’ll always be here to cheer you on, my love,” you say, toothy smile adorning your face. He brushes a gloved hand against your cheek.

“Close your eyes,” he whispers. You quickly do so, excitedly puckering your lips for what typically comes next. You feel him shift around a bit, fiddling with his sides, making your brows and nose scrunch in confusion. “Open them, cyar’ika.”

You crack them open, confused as to why he didn’t kiss you until you see what he’s holding in his hand. A silver bracelet, a small single charm dangling from it. You gasp as you realize what the charm symbolizes, tears welling in your eyes. It’s Din’s signet - a mudhorn. “Where did you get this? How did you get this? This must’ve cost a fortune, Din,” you whisper through your tears as you gently caress the bracelet in your hand.

“I’ve had it for a while, cyar’ika. And don’t worry about the cost, I’d buy you every galaxy if I could. It’s what you deserve,” he tells you. “What did I ever do to deserve this, my love?” He caresses your cheek once more. “You put up with me.” Your lips pull into a frown. “I don’t put up with you, Din. I love you.” The words leave you before you realize you’re saying them.

Stunned silence punches the air. “Close your eyes,” Din says. “I-,” He cuts you off. “Close your eyes, cyar’ika,” he says more firmly. You do as he asks. The hissing of his helmet rings in your ears. Suddenly, you feel a familiar pressure on your lips, the one you’d waited for earlier.

Din crashes his lips onto yours, capturing them in a hungry, ferocious kiss. You gasp as this one feels different than the rest. His tongue slips inside your mouth, moaning into him. Your knees buckle, but Din catches you before you can fall. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, desperate to be consumed by him. His large, thick gloved hands roam your back, sending chills up your spine.

You pull back, chest heaving as you gasp for air as you keep your eyes closed. He presses his warm, sweaty forehead against yours. “I love you too,” he whispers. You can hear the smile in his voice, giggling at his words.

“Say it again,” you ask. “I love you,” he says, pressing a peck to your cheek. “Again,” you giggle. “I love you,” pecking your other cheek. “Again.” “I love you,” pecking your nose. “Again,” you laugh louder this time. He muffles it with a firm kiss to your lips.

“I love you, cyar’ika,” he says, pulling away and scooping you up, spinning you around in his arms. You squeal with laughter as you throw your head back, holding onto his head and eyes remaining closed. He laughs with you before setting you down.

“I love you, Din Djarin. Forever, my love,” you sigh. “Forever, my cyar’ika.”

this was my first time writing angst with no happy ending and omg, as a hopeless romantic, it hurt! 😭 but i did enjoy writing this! i’m super proud of it 🥹

i do have a happy din djarin one shot in the works, i promise! it’s a slow burn full of fluff and mutual pining 🤭

should i write a part 2 for these two? perhaps a reunion and they live happily ever after… or another sad ending? 🫣 wondering how Cyar’ika would react when she sees Din has adopted a son… hmmm… 💭

thanks for reading! 🫶🏼

tag list: @gracieheartsspedro @undrthelights @jenispunk @nostalxgic @mandoisapunk @amanitacowboy @bastardmandennis @party-hearses @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @tinygarbage

#din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin one shot #the mandalorian one shot #din djarin angst #din djarin fluff

[kaminokatieemoved]

Insatiable || Din Djarin

Synopsis - After seeing you with Grogu, Din realises he's in love with you.

Warnings - NSFW. Breeding Kink. Inexperienced!Din. Experienced!Reader. Fingering (F! Receiving). Unprotected P In V Sex.

Fancy Buying Me A Coffee?

Commissions are OPEN.

You had only known Din for a short period of time, no longer than five weeks, but the chemistry between the two of you was unrivalled. The actions between you were just so natural, it was as if you had known each other forever. You had met during his time apart from Grogu, and had heard stories of his previous travel companion as you lay in bed, bodies intertwined as Din played with locks of your hair between his gloved fingers. You would always admit that you wished you could have met him and Din would always exclaim that Grogu would have loved you before bending down to press his helmet against your exposed forehead: a Mandalorian kiss. You'd fall asleep like this only to wake up a few hours later alone, wishing Din was still by your side.

When Grogu returned to Din you knew he was happy, elated even. "Grogu, this is Y/N," Din introduced you, as all three of you boarded the Razor Crest. It was safe to say that Grogu took an instant liking to you, making a simple 'patu' noise and jumping up onto your chest.

"Hey there Grogu," you cooed stroking his little head under your fingers gently. You heard Grogu 'patu' once more and a modulated chuckle come from Din.

"I think he likes you," he said. You couldn't see his face, but you knew he was smiling underneath his helmet. You nodded in agreement as you gazed into Grogu's black eyes, a smile gracing your lips.

That was a few weeks ago. Now you sat on the floor of the Razor Crest playing with Grogu. You were hoping to have him show you and Din some of The Force abilities he had learned during his time with the Jedi, but he was rather shy about it. With that being said, you opted to just rolling around the small, shiny metal ball Grogu seemed to love so much. Din watched from the corner of the Crest. He was lounging against the wall as he watched the two of you, his heart swelling bigger as he saw the smile on your face grow with each passing of the ball. You occasionally cooed at Grogu, hoping he knew you were praising him for doing such a good job, and Grogu did his usual 'patu' back to you.

As he watched you, Din's mind began to wonder. Seeing you act so loving and caring towards Grogu made him think of how perfect a mother you'd be. He had no doubt in his mind that you'd be so maternal towards another baby. His mind then began to wonder further, where would another baby even come from? Unless you and he... No, that was a stupid idea. Sure, you engaged in the occasional flirty banter with each other and slept in the same bed, cuddling like an old married couple, but you had too... right? You had too. Din nodded to himself slowly and found his gaze lowering to your stomach. He couldn't help but think how perfect you'd look all pretty and big with his child.

Din cursed himself mentally and turned away from the two of you, squeezing his eyes shut to try and get the image of you pregnant out of his head. Alas, it was no use. He had barely heard you call to him. "Din? Are you okay?" Your smooth voice came from behind him.

Din panicked, turning around quickly to see you stood in front of him with Grogu on your hip. You bounced the youngling up and down as if soothing him whilst he toyed with the metal ball you had been playing with. Din coughed to himself before answering. "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" You asked, placing a hand on his shoulder. "I don't need to see your face to know when something's wrong, love."

It wasn't unusual for you to use pet names for him like love and sweetheart. They were terms of endearment you had used your whole life, and so Din opted not to look too much into them for the sake of his own sanity. Shaking his head visibly this time, he changed the subject. "We're changing course."

"Oh?" You questioned, looking down at Grogu before looking up into his helmet. "Where are we going?"

"Mos Eisley," Din replied. Before you could even ask why you were headed to Tatooine, he continued talking, answering your question before it even left your lips. "The ship is in need of some repairs, and I have a friend that will be happy to see Grogu."

You nodded and looked down at Grogu once more who yawned. "I'm going to put him to bed," you said softly, motioning down to the green life form who's eyes were slowly fluttering closed. You turned slowly on your heels before walking to the cockpit to put Grogu in his carrier. Din slammed the wall of the Crest frustratedly and muttered under his breath once he knew you were out of earshot. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about you like that, shouldn't be thinking about breeding you, but how could he not when you were so so good to him. After a few moments of sitting with his thoughts, Din decided to follow you up to the cockpit and man the controls until you reached Mos Eisley.

The trip itself didn't take long, but to be honest you were asleep for most of it. You had settled Grogu down and taken a seat next to Din's piloting chair and before you knew it, had drifted off. "We're here," Din said placing a hand on your shoulder, snapping you out of your light sleep.

"Already?" You asked as your eyes fluttered open. You rubbed your eyes with your fists to gauge the remaining sleep out of them before standing up. Grogu was stood next to your chair, looking up at you as if waiting for you to stand up. "Hey little guy," you smiled standing up when you were ready. Din watched from the corner of his eye as Grogu lifted his hands up to you, signalling that he wanted to be picked up. You giggled and obliged, picking the youngling up and placing him on his new favourite position: your hip, before walking out of the Razor Crest with Din.

When you exited the Razor Crest, you were met by a handful of droids all walking around the ship. "Mando!" A woman's voice came. Her voice oozed surprise and excitement. "Here for some repairs?" She asked, coming into your vision. She didn't spot you at first since you were walking behind Din, but when she did her eyes immediately dropped to Grogu on your hip. "Oh my stars! He's back!" She said excitedly, running over to you. You hadn't met this woman before, but if Din trusted her then so did you.

"Do you want to hold him?" You asked politely.

"Boy do I ever!" She grinned, holding her arms out for Grogu to go to her. He did so quickly, but looked at you first for reassurance. "My name is Peli Motto. It's lovely to meet you."

"It's lovely to meet you too. My name is Y/N," you said with a smile, watching as Grogu cooed at the woman.

"I was hoping you could do me favour," Din said suddenly, stepping in between the two of you and interrupting your pleasantries. Peli opened her mouth to ask what the favour was, but Din beat her to it. "Could you watch the kid for me? Just for a day." You looked at Din with a confused facial expression. You were about to ask why you couldn't watch him, feeling slightly rejected, but Din held your hand and squeezed it lightly. "I want to show Y/N something."

Your eyes widened and a blush spread across your cheeks as his gloved fingers laced with your own. Peli didn't miss this detail and smirked knowingly. "For this little guy, I'd do anything," she said before blowing raspberries on his stomach.

"Great, thank you Peli," Din said softly before dragging you away.

"Din, I really should say goodbye. What if he thinks we're not coming back?" You said worriedly as he dragged you along and out of the view of Peli and Grogu.

"Don't worry. He know's we're coming back," Din replied. As he guided you outside the spaceport, there was a speeder conveniently placed. "This will do," Din said to himself. "Sit on the back and hold on to me tightly. I don't want you falling off and hurting yourself."

You nodded and sat on the back of the speeder, waiting for Din to climb on so you could wrap you arms around his beskar covered torso. As soon as he climbed onto the speeder, you were zooming off across the sands of Tatooine with no idea where you were going. You couldn't help but think about Grogu. This was the first time you had ever been apart since you had met and you found yourself worrying. You knew he was in safe hands with Peli: if Din trusted her with the kid, then so did you.

As the speeder bike slowed down outside a tavern, you eyed the place suspiciously before looking to Din. "This is what you wanted to show me?" You asked, unimpressed. You couldn't hide your annoyance as he stepped off the speeder and pulled you close to him, helping you off.

"Yeah," he said gruffly, taking you by the hand once again and leading you in. He walked up to the bar and flashed a few credits at the bartender. "One room please."

"Double or single bed?" The bartended asked, eyeing Din up.

"It doesn't matter," Din replied. He wasn't planning on going to sleep tonight.

"Room 204," the bartender said, handing Din over the key. He nodded thankfully and dragged you to the stairs, leading you up them carefully.

When you arrived at room 204 Din opened the door and dragged you inside, slamming the door behind you. You jumped in shock as you looked around the room. It wasn't much to look at. It was fairly run down and the furniture was obviously old and tattered. There was a rather small double bed located in the middle of the room, pressed up against the wall, and on either side were worn nightstands. You turned around to chastise Din for bringing you here, but came fave-to-face with his beskar breastplate. You looked up to meet his gaze, knowing he was looking down on you and you couldn't help but feel your face heat up. As intimidating as he was, you always felt safe around him.

"You wanted us to have a night away from Grogu?" You asked, tilting your head in confusion. "Why?"

"Not a night," Din shook his head. "Just a few hours, unless you want to stay here all night."

"I want to go back to Grogu," you replied honestly. You were getting antsy not knowing how he was doing.

Din noticed your uneasiness and placed his gloved hands on your shoulders, massaging them softly. "Relax Y/N, he'll be fine." With those words, he placed his helmet against your forehead and gazed longingly into your eyes, trailing down to your lips. Oh how he yearned to kiss you, even if it was just once.

"What are we doing here Din?" You asked quietly, looking into his visor. "What did you want to show me?"

"What are we doing Y/N?" Din asked suddenly after a few seconds of silence. He disregarded your questions with his own as he slowly massaged your shoulders.

You blinked up at him in confusion. "What do you mean?" You asked.

A modulated sigh came from his helmet. "How long are we going to pretend there isn't something between us?" He said suddenly, forcing your face to heat up in embarrassment. He began walking forwards, causing you to back up until the back of your legs came into contact with the edge of the bed. You dropped down onto the bed and propped yourself up on your elbows as Din stared down at you. He was breathing heavily and you could see from the way his chest was rising and falling. You couldn't deny what he was saying though and you certainly couldn't deny your feelings any longer. Especially not when he loomed over you like this. "Do you know how crazy it drives me to see you with the kid?" Din asked, tilting his head to the side. He waited patiently for your answer, but your answer never came. "You're just so perfect Y/N. Can't you see that I'm in love with you?"

"I-I couldn't be sure of it," you whispered softly. Your heart was beating so hard in your chest as Din pushed you down onto the bed so you were lay flat on your back. He crawled on top of you, straddling you. "I didn't want to say anything in case you didn't feel the same."

"You think I wouldn't feel the same about you?" He asked, sounding almost surprised. "Every little thing you do drives me crazy. The kid was the line in the sand."

"What do you mean?" You asked, breathing heavily.

"Seeing how you act with the kid," Din started. "It-It does something to me."

"Oh yeah?" You asked, biting your bottom lip slightly. "What does it do to you. Tell me."

Din thought for a moment before speaking. "It makes me want you," he whispered huskily. "Badly."

"Oh really?" You questioned, your voice low and sultry. "Is that why we're here, Din? Because you want me?"

He couldn't help but gulp as your hands made their way up to his beskar breastplate, smoothing over the cold substance. "I do want you," He whispered, his hands shaky and hovering just above your breasts.

"It's okay Din," you cooed softly. "You can touch me." Your voice was confident and strong, almost demanding that the Mandalorian lower his hands onto your breasts. He gave you a small nod before slowly lowering his hands onto your chest, earning a slight squeak from you. His hands were so large, they cupped your breasts with ease. He began kneading them softly, watching as your mouth opened wide relishing in the feeling.

"Is this okay?" Din asked softly, glad you couldn't see his face at the current moment in time. His face was red, his mouth opened into an 'o' shape and his eyes were glued to his hands on your chest.

"This is fine," you smiled at him gently, but your eyebrow raised as the Mandalorian continued his movements. You grabbed one of his wrists with your hand and moved it away from your chest, before pulling your shirt down to expose your bra. Din felt his mouth dry up as he admired the way your flesh filled the padded item of clothing. "Go on Din, touch me."

"Are you sure?" He asked wearily, after all, he didn't want to force you into doing anything you didn't want to do. Truth be told, he was surprised the two of you were in this situation - even though he dragged you here with the full intention on admitting his feelings for you. You simply nodded to him and puffed up your chest, Din's hands caressing your breasts once more. You let out a soft sigh as he kneaded your mounds slowly. "Feel good?" He asked.

You nodded once more and smiled up into his helmet. "You can squeeze them you know," you pointed out. Din acknowledged your critique and began to squeeze at your flesh in-between kneading. You let out a slight moan in response to his squeezes. This was nice, yeah, but you wanted more. You heard Din's modulated shaky breath as he continued his motions, his eyes glued to the way your tits filled the palms of his hand. Without warning, he pulled your bra up above your chest and began to play with your stiffening buds, twirling them and tugging them between his fingers. You arched your back and let out a gasp of his name. "Din."

"Do you like that?" He asked, voice shaky with arousal.

"Yes," you whispered biting your bottom lip and looked down to watch as he played with your nipples. "Feels good."

"Good baby, good," Din whispered to you. He rested his helmet against your forehead as he continued to pull, pinch and squeeze. You could feel your core getting wetter by the second as you gazed into his helmet. You bucked your hips up against Din's, desperate to gain some friction between your legs. He seemed to get the hint and trailed one of his hands down to between your legs, palming at your trouser-covered crotch.

You smirked and decided to tease the Mandalorian, pushing him away from you lightly. "Are we just going to do over the clothes stuff or are you going to put your hands down my pants and touch my pussy?" The words just slipped, you never meant them to be so crude.

Din wasn't expecting you to say something like that either and coughed nervously. "Is that what you want?" He asked, hoping you would say yes.

"If you don't, I will," you replied, rolling your eyes playfully. Din took a gloved hand and manoeuvred his way through the tight constraints of your pants, not daring to dip inside your underwear yet. He could feel the heat radiating off your cunt through the thin fabric and his mouth couldn't help but water. His gloved fingers circled your cloth-covered clit and you arched your back in response, a groan emitting from your throat. "Oh Maker."

"Do you like that?" Din asked soothingly. His modulated voice always put you at ease no matter what situation you were in. You nodded quickly, bucking your hips up again. "You're eager, aren't you? Don't worry princess, we have all night."

You moaned at his words and rolled your eyes back into your head. He sounded so delicious. "Can Mandalorians have...sex?" You asked suddenly.

Din let out a chuckle as he continued to circle your clit slowly. "Of course, as long as my helmet stays on."

"Oh," you replied. You weren't sure what you were expecting him to say. "Have you ever...?"

Din shook his head in response, burying his helmet covered face into the crook of your neck as he dipped a finger around the crotch area of your panties. He slicked a finger up your folds and groaned at how wet you were. "Maker Y/N. You're dripping."

"It's what you do to me," you laughed. Din took your laugh as a comfort and plunged his gloved finger inside of your cunt quickly, a moan escaping your lips. "Oh Maker," you whined. While one of Din's hands still worked at kneading your breast and playing with your nipple, the other began fingering you slowly, curling his fingers deliciously at your sweet spot. It wasn't long before Din was inserting a second finger into you, his pace speeding up. "Oh Maker Din, if you keep going I'm gonna cum," you warned him.

"Good," he grunted, fingers pounding into your cunt relentlessly. You let out a cry as you came, vision spotting white as your orgasm washed over you. Your legs began to shake violently underneath Din. He let out a little chuckle as you grasped onto his shoulders, almost as if you were grounding yourself. When your body stopped convulsing, Din removed his fingers from your cunt with a pop and trailed his hand up to your mouth. "Open," he whispered softly. You obliged, opening your mouth. Din placed his two fingers into your mouth. You sucked slowly, staring into his helmet seductively. Din groaned as your tongue lapped up the juices off of his fingers, his eyes rolling to the back of his head with pleasure. "I need you Y/N," he said slowly as he removed his fingers from your mouth.

"I need you too Din," you whimpered.

He nodded at you before climbing off of you, quickly removing the bottom part of his armour. His codpiece fell to the floor with a thud, and you squeezed your legs together tightly in anticipation. You watched with wide eyes as his cock came into sight. Boy was he big. Bigger than you had ever imagined and definitely bigger than you had ever had. His plush-pink tip breaded pre-cum and he stood to attention, watching as you marvelled at him. "Is it okay?" He asked somewhat nervously.

"Perfect," you managed to whisper. You shifted yourself so you were on your knees in front of him and were about to slowly lower your mouth onto his cock, but Din moved back slightly shaking his head. "Is everything okay?" You asked, tilting your head to the side.

"Yes, I just want to be inside you," was all he said, pushing you back onto the bed. You fell backwards with a slight thud and giggled as Din crawled back on top of you, his cock hitting the side of your thigh as he did.

"I want you Din," you whimpered as he slicked his tip up your folds, collecting the wetness to lubricate his cock. He continually nodded at you as he slowly pushed his way into your tight cunt, a string of curse words leaving his lips. He had settled half-way, almost too nervous to continue on. But your soft whimpers of pleasure had swayed him, forcing him to push into you completely. Now fully sheathed inside of you, Din remained still, unsure of what to do next. Should he give you a moment to adjust? Should he move his hips? As if you read his thoughts, you spoke softly. "You can move Din." Your voice was a whisper, a husky whisper as your legs wrapped around his covered torso. Obliging your request, Din began to move his hips slowly as if testing the waters. Almost instantly you began to moan, signalling that whatever he was doing, he was doing it right.

Din continued his languid movements, relishing in the feeling of your tight cunt around his cock. This was better than anything he'd ever felt in his entire life, and he was letting you know it. Din wasn't being quiet, he was moaning as he rested his head into the crook of your neck balancing himself on top of you as he thrusted into you. Your hands wrapped around his neck keeping yourself steady as you bounced forward from the force of his thrusts. "Oh Maker," Din moaned loudly, throwing his head back before looking down on you. He enjoyed watching you through his helmet, without feeling insecure. It had been a long time since someone had seen his face - what if you didn't find him attractive? Alas, he didn't have to think about that right now, if ever.

"Faster Din, please," you begged as you bit your bottom lip. He listened to your plea and began to quicken his pace, rutting into you faster than before. "Yes, oh Maker yes!" You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut tightly. The pleasure was all consuming as Din's pace sped up.

"Feel good baby?" He asked confidently. Although your moans were telling him how good he was doing, he wanted to hear you say it.

"Yes," you moaned, throwing your head back. Nails digging into the beskar across his back as Din continued to pound into your spongy walls. "Going to cum if you keep going Din, going to cum!"

"Oh yeah pretty girl?" Din cooed. You just nodded rapidly in response, earning a chuckle from the Mandalorian above. One of your hands dropped from his neck and lazily began to circle around your clit. You were desperate to cum again, to cum on his cock. "Cum for me baby. I know you can do it," and just like that, you were cumming undone. Your legs once again shaking as they loosened around Din's waist. "Oh Maker yes. I can feel you cumming."

"Din!" You cried out loudly, louder than you meant too. Your fingers stopped circling your clit as the feeling became too intense, biting your lip to stop the scream threatening to escape your throat.

"Fuck baby I'm going to fill you so good," Din whimpered into his helmet, his modulated voice sounding like music to your ears. "I'm going to fill you up with my babies Y/N. Please, please mother my children." He couldn't help but beg. You nodded desperately as your cunt clenched around his cock, and that was what sent him over the edge. With a few more staggered thrusts, he came inside you moaning your name over and over again. "Fuck," he grunted, thrusting a few more times before stilling himself.

He stayed inside of you for a few moments as the two of you caught your breath. Panting desperately for air, you began laughing. Din looked at you, tilting his head as if to say 'what's so funny'. You smirked at the Mandalorian and kissed the cheek of his helmet. "This was your plan? Take me to a shitty run down tavern and fuck your babies into me?" You snickered.

"Worked didn't it?" Din smiled to himself, pulling his softening cock out of you.

"I suppose so," you smiled, propping yourself up on your elbows as you watched him dress his lower half.

"Do you want to stay here tonight?" Din asked, watching you intensely.

You bit your lip and nodded. "I think I'd love that," you whispered. "But I'm not getting dressed."

"I don't object," he laughed, sitting down on the bed next to you. "I wish I could kiss you."

You frowned slightly before smiling at him. "I wish you could too, but I understand. Don't worry sweetheart."

Your words soothed him and he wasted no time in relaxing into you, holding you close to his body. You ignored the coldness of the beskar against your skin and closed your eyes, falling off into a deep slumber.

I don't know how I feel about this, but people really liked my last Din Djarin fic, so I thought I'd write another one.

In my feels for brooding Din, I think he'd make a great father.

Requests are CLOSED.

Commissions are OPEN.

#Din Djarin #Din Djarin x Reader #Star Wars #Star Wars x Reader #Din Djarin Imagine #Din Djarin Imagines #Din Djarin One Shot #Din Djarin One Shots #Din Djarin OneShot #Din Djarin OneShots #The Mandalorian #The Mandalorian x Reader #The Mandalorian Imagine #The Mandalorian Imagines #The Mandalorian One Shot #The Mandalorian One Shots #The Mandalorian OneShot #The Mandalorian OneShots #Star Wars Imagine #Star Wars Imagines

[make-me-imagine]

You and I

Description: A collection of moments between you and Cobb

Sensory Prompts: 'Romantic kisses' + 'Resting your head on their chest, as you listen to their heartbeat.' Requested By: Two Anons

Pairing: Cobb Vanth x GN!Reader

Warnings: Kisses, mentions of injuries (nothing graphic)

Words: 932

-

Your first kiss with Cobb came after you had known each other for a few years. You were friends, you were close, and both of you knew there was something between you, but neither of you ever seemed to have to courage to really jump in. Always finding reasons it wasn't the right time, or wouldn't work out.

Until one night, when neither of you seemed to be able to find a reason to stop you.

Everyone was gathered in the center of town, the sky had gone dark, a large bonfire was lit. Everyone was dancing, drinking, and singing. It was the anniversary of the day Mos Pelgo became truly free.

You and Cobb were dancing near the fire with the others. You were grinning as he was spinning you around. Pulling you into his arms, you giggled as you looked into his eyes.

He had a wide, fond smile on his face as he stared at you. Without really realizing, you had stopped dancing as you just stared at each other. You saw the moment his eyes drifted from yours down to your lips. Meeting your eyes again, he pulled you ever-so closer.

There were no words said aloud, but a whole confession was spoken between you as you stared into each others eyes.

Slowly, he leaned closer, and slowly you moved to meet him. Until your lips met in a tender and slow kiss. The first of many.

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

You stared out at the amber glow of the desert before you. The sun was setting and everything was quiet. Most people had gone into their homes for the evening, to relax after a long day.

Hearing soft footsteps coming up behind you, you didn't move. You knew the sound of those footsteps well enough by now.

A smile crossed your face as you felt arms slip around your waist, as Cobb pressed his face against your head.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Just looking. I like the color." You said softly as you leaned back into him.

He hummed lightly as he pressed a soft kiss to your temple. Leaning your head back, you met his eyes and smiled up at him.

His own smile widened as he looked at you, his eyes grazing your face as he studied you. "You look amazing in this light." He mumbled softly.

You simply smiled at him as you quickly pecked his lips.

Leaning down a bit, he kissed you as well. Longer this time, savoring this peaceful moment with you as he held you against him.

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

Your heart wouldn't stop hammering in your chest as you cleaned and bandaged the wound on Cobb's shoulder. You kept repeating in your mind 'He's fine. He's okay. It's not that bad.' But the adrenaline of the shoot out was still coursing through you.

Cobb watched you in silence as you stared with concentration at his wounds. He could see you were still shaken, and guilt sat in his chest. He always promised you he'd be careful, and he usually was, but the second you were in danger, he lost all sense.

He finally broke the tense silence with a soft voice and a light tone of amusement. "So, will I live?"

Just as you finished wrapping the bandage, you let out a soft sigh ad met his eyes "This time."

He cocked his head slightly "And the next, and the next."

"Is that a promise?"

He nodded his head as he lifted his other arm and gently caressed your cheek. "It is a promise I will try very hard to keep."

"You better. I hate seeing you get hurt" your voice dropped a little "especially because of me."

"You think this was your fault?" He frowned lightly as his chest tightened.

You nodded a little "You got hurt trying to protect me."

He sat up, cupping your face in his hand "It wasn't your fault those spice traders decided to cause trouble in town. Y/n, I would die to protect you, but that does not mean it would ever be your fault. Ever."

"And if I asked you not to die for me?"

A soft almost sad smile crossed his face "I'm afraid that might be a promise I couldn't keep."

"Then I suppose I better not be in danger again."

"That would be nice." He said with a soft smile.

You smiled in return as you leaned forward and pressed your forehead against his. "I love you Cobb."

Leaning in, he kissed you softly again and again, before he whispered back "And I love you."

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

You let out a soft content sigh as you rested your head on Cobb's shoulder, his arm wrapped around you. Closing your eyes, you listened to the rhythmic beating of his heart. Your whole body relaxed as he began to gently run his fingers through your hair.

"These are my favorite moments." He mumbled softly.

"Lying in bed?" You asked softly.

"No, not just that. You and I. Just us, together, nothing else to worry about, or pay attention too but each other."

You hummed lightly "I think they're my favorite too. Though, you know what would make it better?"

"What's that?"

Lifting up your head you looked over at him. He looked down at you and quirked one brow. You smiled softly "Kiss me?"

His lips slowly curled into a smile as he leaned his head down a bit. You moved up to meet his lips in a deep kiss.

When you finally pulled away he grinned at you "You were right, that did make it better."

xx End xx

I know this is pretty short, and there is no real plot, but this was all I could come up with for this lol.

General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire, @rexit-mo, @onuen, @witchygagirl, @alexxavicry

The Mandalorian/Star Wars Taglist: @spuffyfan394, @hoeforthefictional, @asgardianhobbit98, @agent-catfish-kenobi, @maellem, @locke-writes, @stargirl-05

#Cobb Vanth #The Mandalorian #Cobb Vanth x Reader #Cobb Vanth/Reader #Cobb Vanth imagine #the mandalorian fic #cobb vanth x y/n #cobb vanth x you #the mandalorian imagine #sw #star wars universe fic #cobb vanth x gn!reader #fluff #cute #cobb vanth drabble #cobb vanth oneshot #cobb vanth one shot #oneshot #one shot #the mandalorian one shot #the mandalorian oneshot #sw oneshot

[talaok]

The carpet

pairing: Pedro Pascal x fem!reader

Summary: You and your husband Pedro prepare for a red carpet, but once you're there you have a wardrobe malfunction, luckily, he's there to help.

Warnings: just so much fluff for no reason

a/n: i havent written something for Pedro that wasnt a request in literally 9 months, but guess what the hyperfixation is hyperfixating lately and I just needed to write down what i've been daydreaming about all day.

"wow" he exhaled, closing the door behind him, his eyes trained on you.

You chuckled, looking at him from the mirror, as a choked "aww" escaped Linda, your make-up artist's, lips at the reaction.

You gave her a look and she just grinned, checking her work one final time before whispering "Seeing you two is better than watching any rom-com, I can't even remember the last time my Mark looked at me like that", making you laugh once more with a playful roll of your eyes.

"you look stunning sweetheart" Pedro breathed, right behind you now, his hands already on your waist

Another dreamy sigh fell out of Linda's lips before she decided it was time for her to go.

"i'll go wait downstairs then... leave you two lovebirds some time alone," she said, excitement piercing through her tone as if she was watching her daughter walk down the aisle.

"thank you Linda, we'll be down in a moment" You nodded, smiling sincerely at her as she started for the door.

But just when a foot was already out into the hallway, she turned around, a serious expression on her all of a sudden.

"And Pedro" she shot him a look "Just this once, try not to mess her lipstick up too much, will ya?" 

You couldn't help but laugh, loudly, wholeheartedly, but Pedro, ever so honest only answered with a "I can't make any promises Linda", before the poor woman groaned and shut the door behind her.

Just as the soft thud of the motion bumped from wall to wall, Pedro turned you around in one swift motion, getting to see your pretty face better.

"hi there" you smiled, placing your hands on his chest, softly playing with the hem of his tuxedo's jacket.

"hello sugar" he grinned, letting his eyes drink in all of you.

"You look handsome" you murmured, your right hand going to his face, feeling the soft stubble of his beard graze your palm.

"mhhh" he hummed, leaning closer already, much to Linda's disappointment "Well you know how it is... if my lady's gonna be the most beautiful woman on the red carpet I gotta step up my game"

You huffed out a laugh 

"'s that right?"

"need to at least try and look like you're not miles out of my league" he cocked an eyebrow, his hands on your waist pushing you flush against him.

"You're a bad man Pedo Pascal" you stifled a smirk "A bad, bad man" you whispered as his lips finally met with yours.

They were softer than usual, but heavenly just the same. 

His hold tightened on you and you melted right into his arms, whimpering weakly into his mouth, before after what was probably a good two minutes, he pulled away.

"we gotta go" you murmured

"I know" he groaned, half-heartedly leaning away.

And as you checked yourself in the mirror one last time, you couldn't help but chuckle, as your gaze fell to your lips.

"Oh Linda's gonna be pissed"

__ __ __

the carpet was booming tonight,

celebrities filled every inch of the crimson rug, and the flashes of the countless cameras pointed at you were so strong you swore they would have blinded you if you weren't so used to them.

You were posing to show off the gorgeous dress you were lucky enough to be wearing, and once you had exhausted all the poses you knew, you turned to your husband on the left as he offered you his hand, which you took with a smile, walking to his spot and leaving a soft kiss on his cheek the photographers seemed more than a little enthusiastic about.

But as you posed together, his arm on your back drawing soothing circles, an almost inaudible pop made its way to your ears, and all the sudden some pressure was gone from your chest, and when you looked down... when you looked down the button that was holding the two pieces of fabric covering your boobs had popped, and said fabric was starting to fall.

"oh my god" you blurted, but before you could do anything, your reflexes slowed down by the shock, Pedro's hand found your chest, salvaging the falling pieces of the dress.

"I-" you stuttered, not knowing what to say, or do as he moved in front of you, his broad build doing a hell of a good job of shielding you from the photographers

"I was about to flash so many people" you finally breathed, your voice faint.

"yeah" he said, trying, really trying to suppress the chuckle down his throat, but failing miserably "Yeah you were sweetheart" he laughed softly, his hand still holding your dress.

"are you- don't laugh!" you gasped, although with one look at your face, you could feel a bubble of laughter making its way up your thoat "It's not funny" you smiled, chuckling too now.

"no" he shook his head, sarcasm spilling out of his every pore " there's nothing remotely funny about this sugar, absolutely" he smiled, making you want to roll your eyes

"hold the dress for a sec" he said, having you do just that as he took his jacket off and instead, put it on you.

"thank you" you smiled, looking up at him.

"you just worry about keeping that jacket closed" he murmured, kissing your cheek "I've already seen too many men's eyes wondering a bit too much"

"oh shut up" you laughed, rolling your eyes as he escorted you off what must have been the worst red carpet of your life.

"Whatever you say flash" he laughed, obviously very proud of his own joke

"god I hate you so much" you sighed, smiling widely into his chest nonetheless.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x f!reader #pedro pascal blurb #pedro pascal fluff #pedro pascal x fem reader #pedro pascal one shot #pedro pascal x fem!reader #Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x female reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal imagine #dad!pedro pascal #the last of us #joel miller #tlou #the mandalorian #javier peña #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #fluff #daddy pascal #pedrohub #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedrito #pedro pascal x gn reader

[ddejavvu]

grumpy beefy mando falling for soft!reader in her “grandma era” - all she wants to do is crochet, bake and frolic around the galaxy with mando and grogu 🫶🏽

"He doesn't like hats."

You glance up at Din from where you're testing a length of crocheted stitches beneath Grogu's chin, ensuring that the hat inspired by the local flora of the forest planet you've found shelter on won't fall off if he gets too rigorous in his play.

Grogu coos beneath the flower hat, but whether it's in agreement or protest you can't tell.

"He likes this one," You decide, when the little green terror before you doesn't fight as you maneuver his ears through their designated slots, "And he doesn't have to wear it if he doesn't want to."

Your fingers slip the little white button through the slot you've left in the band, and the hat is secured around Grogu's chin; the cutest little flower you ever did see.

"Oh, honey," You gush, scooping the child up and tucking him into your arms, "You wanna see your hat? C'mere, let's look."

You crouch in front of the tree stump that Din has settled on, holding Grogu up to the man's beskar chest plate. It's freshly polished, but not completely reflective, so at the right angle, Grogu catches a blurry, slightly distorted version of himself in a very pink hat.

His legs are still too small to kick in excitement, but his arms pick up the slack, flapping about while copious amounts of baby babble streams from his mouth. Evidently he's pleased with your handiwork.

Din stays silent while he offers his armor up for Grogu's viewing pleasure, but the child's hands soon find the soft strap beneath his chin and tug.

"I told you he didn't like hats..." Din murmurs, not to be cruel, but to fill empty space in the air when your shoulders deflate slightly.

"I thought he'd like it if it was softer," You hum sadly, helping Grogu take the button out of its clasp so that he can tug the hat off of his head, "I just figured he didn't like the helmet you gave him because it was uncomfortable."

As soon as you've freed Grogu from the confines of his flowery prison his hands slap against the shiny metal of Din's armor. He takes the child out of your hands but Grogu keeps his hat tightly clutched in his fist, and, with valiant effort, pushes the hat into Din's helmet, insistently cooing something that sounds suspiciously like buir.

Your giddiness returns, and you circle Din like a hawk, "Oh, you want your buir to wear it? Let's see," Amidst Din's protests you balance the too-small cap on his helmet, and he stills if only to save the hat from slipping and dying a muddy death on the ground below.

"It doesn't fit me." He grumbles, body stiff as he keeps it balanced on his head. Grogu seems pleased with his buir's new headpiece, squealing and showing off his newly-emerged teeth in a grin.

"I'll make you a matching one!" You declare, snatching the hat off of his helmet to give him the freedom of movement again, "Grogu, baby, what color should Din's be?"

"Bah!" Grogu decides, and your steps still where you're racing back towards your shelter.

"Uh... how about purple?" You suggest, and another resounding 'Bah.' is all the encouragement you need.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin fluff #din djarin scenario #din djarin oneshot #din djarin one-shot #din djarin one shot #din djarin headcanons #din djarin hcs #din djarin fanfic #din djarin fic #din djarin blurb #din djarin drabble #din djarin dialogue #din djarin x reader fanfiction #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you #mandalorian fanfiction #mandalorian fluff #mandalorian imagine

[bits-and-babs]

I imagine Mando is a virgin, do to his cult/religion.

What if fem/afab reader is Mando's partner on something and Din finds himself staring at their ass, their face, anything.

Reader notices and decides to lead Din through his first time?

𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐊𝐀𝐑 — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍

» PAIRING : The Mandalorian x F!Reader

» CONTENTS : exhibitionism, masturbation, p in v sex, unprotected sex (I can hear you all screaming from here, I KNOW), cute, shy Mando. 18+ you N A S T I E S.

» DIN MASTERLIST : here || MAIN MASTERLIST : here

It’s so fucking quiet on the Razor Crest.

The Mandalorian had been suspiciously silent for the majority of your trip to Theed— made even worse by the knowledge that it was such a long journey. He had spent most of his time in the cockpit of the ship, pretending to be preoccupied with the coordinates that he hadn’t changed since setting off.

You didn’t think anything of it at first. The long drags of The Mandalorian's eyes that you could feel pull across your form, settling on your ass like a tractor beam had them glued to you. Of course, you’d just explained it away with exhaustion. For a moment, you even considered that you’d been afflicted with Hyper-Rapture, imagining things that weren’t there, inventing the gaze you felt skirting over your form.

No, you don’t think anything of it at all. Not until you walk into the cockpit of the Razor Crest one evening to find The Mandalorian thrusting into his palm and quietly whimpering out your name.

Mando hadn’t seen you, spilling into his palm and wheezing as though he’d been shot by a blaster in the side. His cum had run down the knuckles of his fingers, the two-tone gloves he consistently wore hanging off the controls.

Stars, you couldn’t shake the image from your minds-eye, nor could you ignore the echo of your whimpered name when you close your eyes at night.

It’s late. Mando has managed to settle the rambunctious Child into his cot, gently laying him amongst the blankets and closing the lid. It hisses softly, the mechanics locking with a quiet ‘click’.

You can hear his boots clang across the durasteel flooring, each footstep pronounced. Heat swallows your face as you stare at the Aurebesh lettering in your book, the lines all blurring into one when you feel him approach you.

Your name rings in your ears.

“He’s asleep,” Mando speaks softly, his husky tone soothing in its quiet volume. Looking up at him through your lashes, you carefully close the book you had pretended to preoccupy yourself with. Mando’s visor stares down at you blankly, an immovable object that makes your hands shake when you reach for him.

“… That’s perfect,” you whisper, voice cracking slightly when your palms touch the flight suit beneath the lip of his breastplate. You can feel his body flinch, his hip bones soft beneath the canvas.

“H-Hey,” he says cautiously, shocked by the sudden contact. You rub gentle circles with your thumb, chewing on the inside of your cheek in an attempt to ease your thumping heart.

“I heard you,” you break it to him gently, watching his body stiffen at your admission, “Why did you hide it from me?”

Mando doesn’t respond, your touch having stolen the breath from his lungs. He shudders, his cock hard already beneath the fabric of his suit. You see it twitch, responsive to your light touch.

You smile to yourself, careful as you unclip his utility belt.

“I can give you what you want?”

You insist upon fucking him in the pilot seat. Mando implores you to allow him to keep his armour on. Of course, you concede. This is outside of his comfort zone; he would want to cling to what makes him comfortable.

Straddling his lap, you feel the sting of cold from his tassets bite into the naked flesh of your thighs. The head of his cock rests against your clit, and your muscles buzz with a mixture of arousal and anticipation. You’re drunk on it, high on it.

“I haven’t-“ Mando speaks, his voice catching in his throat when you dip his cock through your soaking folds. It’s like he short circuits, choking on a thick syllable.

“Mhm?” You hum softly. You’ve taken control, your experience making it easier for Mando to relax into you. He leans forward, pressing the cold Beskar of his helmet against your collarbone.

“I haven’t… Done this,” he admits to you, his tone reserved- shy. Mando’s breath hitches in his chest when you settle the head of his cock against your entrance. He sinks inside you ever so slightly, a groan rattling his lungs at the promise of tight, wet heat.

“I know,” you whisper softly, easing down onto his length as you soothe him. Mando’s back arches against the leather of the pilot seat, a choked moan of your name escaping him— not unlike the ones you heard when you caught him fucking his hand.

You don’t move, your walls fluttering around the stretch of him in your cunt. Mando is choking back curses, his hands gripping the curve of your ass and burying his fingertips into the soft flesh there.

“Oh, fu-ughh- so tight-'' he rambles, pitchy in tone as you bury him to the hilt. He’s touching the deepest parts of you, so thick and long that you’re sure you can feel him settle amongst your lungs.

It’s immediately apparent that Mando won’t last long. His thighs are trembling, cock twitching inside you despite your lack of movement. You don’t mind. This isn’t about you.

“Does it feel good?” You check in with him, smoothing your palms down the reflective surface of his breastplate. Your body heat is so high that the chilled metal clouds with condensation the moment your skin rests against it.

“So fucking tight- Maker-“ he gasps in response to you squeezing around him. “I’m-I’m gonna cum-“

Delicately, you lean your head down to press a kiss to the slither of skin exposed between the neckline of his flight suit and his helmet. You follow it up with a long, slow drag of your tongue.

Mando cums with a haggard groan, his whole body shuddering with the intensity of it. His head drops back against the headrest of the seat, chest heaving as he sucks in laboured breaths. Your flesh aches slightly from the tight grip he holds.

“S-Stars-“

It makes you smile, because you’re sure he sees them dancing behind his eyelids.

END

#꒰꒰ ‧₊˚📁 ─ my works ˚₊· ꒱꒱ #꒰ ‧₊˚ din 🥫 ˚₊· ꒱ #꒰꒰ ‧₊˚ 1k+ notes club ˚₊· ꒱꒱ #din djarin #din djarin x female reader #din djarin one shot #din djarin x y/n #din djarin imagine #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian oneshot #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian drabble #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x reader #star wars smut #star wars #star wars fanfiction #જ⁀➴ mail: received

[hyperactively-me]

sharing a bed

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

just wanted to ask you guys to please read this

(asks are open)

happy reading

warnings: none

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No.”

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

“No, I mean…” 

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh, of course, I’m sorry–”

“No, it's not your fault–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- - - - - 

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

Din. 

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

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

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

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

“Hi” you whisper.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#➶-͙˚ ༘✶ din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x you #din djarin fluff #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin #the mandalorian #din dijarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin one shot #din dijarin fanfiction #the mandalorian one shot #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandolarian #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian fan fiction #mando x reader #mandalorian imagine #grogu #star wars #hyperactivelyme

[peterparkersnose]

I Need You More Than I Wanted To

pairing: Din Djarin x reader

word count: 3k

warnings: needy din, lowkey out of character but idc, pining possibly one sided, lots of begging, angst, description of y/n’s body, masturbation reference if you squint HARD, sappy speeches at the end, arguing, lots of angst (bc angst is my favorite)

a/n i’ve had this idea in my drafts for MONTHS so i’m so happy i’ve gotten around to writing it.

summary Y/N overhears a damaging conversation between Din and Greef Karga

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 11 mins 8 seconds

Din’s heart ached like no other watching you these past few days. The silent suffering, the longing, and the pain he has been observing was hard to watch; the hardest part was that he was the reason for this.

He knew you like the back of his hand. For years the two of you have been traveling the galaxy, searching for as many credits as possible and managing to have a fun time while doing it. Living life with you is how Din preferred it. It was carefree. The two of you made a great team and wanted to live lavishly one day. That was the dream, at least. The two of you saved credits like crazy, but it never seemed to be enough to purchase a palace. Once the kid came along everything changed. The sudden dream of living large seemed to fade over the horizon. Something clicked. The two of you were now parents.

When Greef mentioned to him about you when the two of you visited the new Nevarro, Din was sure he was just messing with him.

“Are you two finally together?”

The question confused Din.

“You know, the way she looks at you. That’s love.”

Din was shocked. Had he really been that clueless?

“That’s impossible,” Din responded. Greef laughed. “You're telling me that if she made the first move, you wouldn’t reciprocate it?”

A strict “No” came from Din. “Never.”

The child cooed and the two men turned around. There you stood in the doorway, waiting for them to finish their conversation. The exact conversation you had just overheard.

Your mouth slightly dropped. The expression on your face was shocked. You quickly blinked and closed your mouth, trying to mask your disappointment. But Din knew. Maybe it was enough to fool Greef Karga, but Din knew he had just hurt the person he cared for the most deeply.

“H-he wanted you,” you said silently, not expecting your voice to quiver. You set down Grogu on the red velvet couch. Din nodded. Your lip quivered as you stared at him through the visor in pure shock. With hurt in your eyes, you excused yourself to the shared quarters the two of you were given for the time of your stay.

“And that…” Greef began. Din scooped up Grogu in his arms. Grogu made a noise and grunted, seemingly wanting to now leave his father and attend to his heartbroken mother. He squirmed in Din’s arms until he let him down.

“That was the look of heartbreak.”

The next few days on Nevarro were filled with a cold distance. Neither you nor Din wanted to discuss the elephant in the room. Simple words were exchanged in the interest of the child, but that was about it.

It was your last night on Nevarro.

Din had been at the cantina with Greef Karga and some of his associates, celebrating the newly liberated Nevarro. You had gone to bed early, staying with Grogu.

You were surprised Din even agreed to go out, he hated outings such as drinking with friends. If things weren’t so heated at the moment, he would have much rather preferred a night staying in with you and watching some stupid show on your datapad and eating whatever your heart desired.

The sun had been set for hours. You were lounging in your satin red sleep robe that was complimentary given to you upon your arrival. The beautiful braid you had your hair up in all day was now gone, your hair was curled due to the all-day friction. The ladies assigned to your care were more than delightful. With the satin robes and braids you could never master, it was like you never wanted to leave. You lay on the king-sized bed you had been giving to Din the last few nights. The couch was beginning to hurt your back, and he was nowhere to be found. 

Grogu, still not asleep, was patting the lavish sheets with his hands. You smiled, watching the curious creature discover the new textures. Your eyes wandered to the marvelous carvings coated in gold paint that covered the pillars in your room. Eyes beginning to droop, you were suddenly awoken by a cold hand on your exposed thigh. 

“Buir!” he squealed. Recognizing the Mando’a right away, your thinned-lip smile turned into a frown. “I know,” you sighed, extending your hand towards the child and brushing the top of his head. “He’ll be back soon.”

Grogu crawled up your legs and onto your torso. Grogu began grabbing some of the strands of hair that lay on your chest, you slowly separated his hands from the grasp. “Good job on speaking, buddy.” you smiled, now sitting against the bedframe. Grogu sat in your lap, reaching for your hair once again. A genuine smile arose on your face as you watched your son rest in your lap. The thought of Din left your mind, but only temporarily. He seemed to haunt your dreams as he haunted your days. You fell asleep with Grogu in your lap. 

Din’s clanky armor trudged up the many stairs to the guest bedroom. It was almost like a full workout, he was ready to get into the shower and then get into bed. 

Din absolutely hated his time out; barely being able to sip his drink and listening to the arguing of men about topics he didn't even care about was not his idea of a good night. He didn't want to admit it though—he yearned to spend the night with you. You consumed his every thought, and with every sip of his strong alcohol, he just kept feeling worse and worse. The image of your face re played in his head all week. With the disappointment and hurt he never wanted to inflict on you, the guilt was building up in his stomach like no other. 

Slowly, his ungloved hand waved against the sensor. The door whirred open. Din hoped he didn’t wake you, it was already almost morning, even though the sunrise was hours away. He could hear the morning bugs begin to chirp on his way home. As his eyes adjusted to the lighting, he set his helmet down on the chair in the corner. He turned around to find you- his heart seemed to skip a beat. 

Laying in the silk robe you were gifted, your legs were parted awkwardly as you slept. You lay on your stomach with your face delved in a pillow. The slow movement of your back going up and down gave Din the confidence that you were okay. One arm lay at your side, the other cradled Grogu against your waist. His breath finally caught up with him once he realized he had been staring for too long. 

The only thing he could seem to think about in his shower was his best friend. The woman who had always been there for him. She was merely a partner until Greef suggested otherwise. The thought of even diving into anything romantic with you never crossed Din’s mind until then. His hand held his seemingly limp body on the wall, holding him upwards as the water washed over him. The thought of you sprawled out on the bed, on his bed was just… 

The thought went straight to his head, making him feel emotions for you he never had before. Your body, the way you lay, how you were protecting his son even in slumber. Everything about you seemed so appealing in a way Din had never felt for another woman. 

“You know, the way she looks at you. That’s love.”

Greef’s voice haunted Din’s mind as he slept. He woke up gasping for air on the couch. You turned to look at him but only for a moment. You made eye contact. It was rare you saw him without his helmet, and even rarer to make complete eye contact. Din wasn’t one for eye contact. Looking down, you continued to fold Grogu’s extra robes that were freshly cleaned and delivered to your room earlier this morning. You were packing to leave. 

Din sat upright, his hand holding his forehead. His head was pounding. Looking up, he noticed a glass of water and a few pills sitting on the table in front of him. Presumably set up for him, by you. His heart sank. Even in pain, you somehow still cared for him. He turned to look at you again. You were still getting Grogu ready to leave. He was jumping on the bed, making gargling noises as you tried to dress him. Din took the pills and finished the water and set the glass down with a clank, so you knew he had seen your gesture. 

“What time are we leaving?” he asked, standing up to finish his packing. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror; his hair was disheveled and he was in need of a shave. He ran a hand over the patchy stubble on his cheeks. To his surprise, his bag was sitting packed on the same chair where he rested his helmet last night. His helmet was sitting on top of the bag. 

You sighed. “Din,” you croaked, saying his name for the first time in days. He looked over at you. The same pain was there, but the look of exhaustion followed it. “I-I’m not going.” 

His brows raised. A slight panic set in. “What do you mean, your not going?” he asked in a more hostile tone than needed. You drew in a sharp breath and looked back at the same gold detailing you were looking at the night before. “Grogu is packed,” you simply said, scooping the child up in your arms. He squealed at your embrace, cuddling up in your arms. It was the last time you were going to be with Grogu, at least for a while. “Greef invited us to breakfast,” you said, swiftly walking past Din to the door. Your attempt to leave was unsuccessful.

Din grabbed your arm and pulled you back. Grogu let out a whine, as he was shuffled in the hassle. No words had to be said, the stares you were giving each other were enough. Din tilted his head slightly. The feeling of you was slipping through his fingers. Memories of you two fighting bounties, saving credits for a future, and then raising Grogu together hurt him more than ever. You were already too far gone. He had done damage that seemed irreversible.

A single tear rolled down your face. 

It was never meant to go this far. 

“Let me go,” you begged. Din didn’t realize his grasp on you was getting tighter as the seconds went by. “I don’t want to,” he whispered, closer to a mumble.

With reluctance, he let go of your arm. 

“What about the villa?” he called after you as you were about to exit the room. You stopped cold in your tracts. “Don’t bring up the villa-” you scolded him, turning around. The once-thought dream of living lavishly with Din, as a retired pair on a fancy planet scorned your broken heart. “You're really just going to leave? After everything?” he asked.

“You were my everything.” you bitterly cried out. Grogu squirmed in your arms. You sat him down on the bed.

Those words punched through Din like a thousand knives. “I didn’t mean-”

“Then what did you mean?” you ask, approaching Din. “I heard your conversation loud and clear, Din. I understand your intentions.”

“Y/N I had no clue,” he tried to defend himself. “Liar!” you screamed. Din was taken aback by your anger and took a few steps back. “I have spent the last many years of my life following you around blindly. We lived together, slept in the same bed, shared meals, shared laughs, and now share a child! I held you during cold nights! I saw your face, we’ve seen each other nude more times than I can count, you cared for me when I got hurt on that one mission to Tatooine. You cared for me while my leg was broken and I was helpless. We were everything without a title, Din! There is no way you never saw or felt anything. I simply don’t believe it. I can’t believe I thought I could see the true heart of a cold, selfish Mandalorian.”

Din was almost at a loss for words. He stood for a moment, finding words to say as he watched you realize every single word you had just spewed out at him. Your hand began to shake as you sat down, covering your mouth and staring at the carpet with wide eyes.

“Do you think I chose this? This is how I was raised, Y/N!” he argues. Your gaze moved from the carpet and back to Din. “I cannot take a spouse unless they are a Mandalorian, you know this,” Din begged, grasping for straws. He wanted you more badly than anything else in the world, but the creed that was so deeply indoctrinated in him was fighting the feelings.

“Blinded by your creed.” you spat out. Din seethed. The creed he was in the process of abandoning anyways. 

“Why do you think I’m leaving it?” he blurted out. He didn’t want to admit it, but he said it out loud. Never had he ever admitted before to himself, let alone another person that he was done with his origins. The religion he was raised in, the culture that had brought him in and saved his life was now being thrown out… but for what? The convincing Bo-Katan did and saving him from this cult-like creed saved his life, truly deep down. Even if the efforts were small, they awoke something in Din. But was he really ready to shun his culture completely? Din never really came to terms with it, I guess, until now. 

“You have hurt me deeply, Din Djarin,” you said with your lip quivering, stating your final words. With that, you took Grogu and went to breakfast. You knew using his full, true name always hit him in a spot where it hurt most.

As you were about to walk down the spiral staircase at the end of the hallway, you heard your name being called clearly from the other side of the hall. You turned around, seeing Din jogging down the hall to you.

“Din! Your helmet,” you cried out. He had left the room without it. As he only trusted you and Grogu to see his natural face, anyone who he didn’t trust could turn him into the leaders of his clan. It touched him that you seemed to care for him on some level to still care about his helmet insecurities.

Then again, the reigns the creed held on him were loosening day by day.

“Wait,” he said, huffing as he approached you. “Please.”

“I want to go eat breakfast,” you said sternly.

Din’s arms loosely fell over your figure, his hands slowly touching your arms as they cradled Grogu.

“Don’t go,” he begged.

You looked up into his glossy eyes. Often you would forget how much taller he was than you. Sighing, you looked away.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t.”

Din’s knees seemed to collapse under him. He gave in to the buckling of his kneecaps and grabbed both of your hands, begging on his knees for you.

“To live all these years blindly, to not see what was truly in front of me will haunt me for the rest of my days. I am lost without you. Like a galaxy without stars, I am incomplete. I hope you can forgive me for my foolish words, I did not know what I was saying. You are everything to me. The mother of my child, my partner in crime, my light in the dark, my moon to guide me at night, my motivation, my companion, my love. Please forgive me. I need you to stay. You are all I have, you are all I need. A life without you is not worth living.”

To end his plea, he kissed your hands and wept.

Your right hand moved from his grasp to cup his cheek. It was wet with tears. “Don’t cry,” you whispered, wiping a tear away. “Din please,” you said, tearing up as you watched him sit and beg for you.

As his were moments before, your knees seemed to fail you and you joined him on the ground. Your hands grasped his hair as you engulfed the sobbing man in a hug. The soothing sounds of you shushing him like a baby filled the empty hallway.

“I won’t leave, I promise,” you whispered. This seemed to only make him cry harder. The realization Din had of how lucky he was and how close he was to losing you terrified him.

You would have never thought that you would be holding a sobbing Mandalorian. This was living proof of how much he loved and adored you. “H-how could you ever forgive me?” he asked, looking up into your gaze.

“I already have, my love.”

And with that, the two of you delved into your first kiss. It was wet and filled with passion, but also had a theme of hesitation from the two of you.

In all honesty, it was Din’s first kiss ever.

He moved his lips against yours, following your lead. The passion that moved between the two of you was something you had never felt with anyone else before. His hands wandered to your waist as he feverishly begged for more, but knew the limits of the setting the two of you were in.

Moments before the inevitable breakaway, your kiss was interrupted with a cool paw on your leg and a “Patu”

You rocked back on your legs to see the tiny green baby looking angrily at the two of you. A small laugh came from you and Din as he picked Grogu up and fixed his robes.

“Go get fixed up,” you said sweetly, kissing Din on the cheek. “I’ll meet you downstairs.”

“One question?” he asked, just as you were standing up to leave.

“What time are we leaving?”

“12.” you smiled, ruffling his already messy hair.

-

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[honeyedmiller]

Brown Eyes | Din Djarin

pairing: din djarin x f!reader

disclaimer: brief season 3 spoilers ahead. read at your own discretion.

warnings: brief mentions of violence, very little cursing, tooth-rotting fluff, Din is honestly such a simp in this (we love that tbh), and smut. 18+. minors dni.

word count: 4.5k

synopsis: Din comes back to Nevarro only to find his favorite soldier acting as an interim Marshall, and the reunion is everything he could’ve hoped for.

divider by @saradika 🖤

Din felt the weight of the galaxy lift off his shoulders after Moff Gideon's defeat.

Maybe he'd finally know peace.

When he came back to Nevarro after the fact, he was happily greeted by his good friend, Greef Karga.

Greef didn't hesitate to gift Mando his very own home, where he could raise his son and train him to be an apprentice. The whole city was gathered at the main courtyard, welcoming the Mandalorian and his son back with pride. You stepped down the stairs and stood next to Greef with the biggest smile on your face.

You'd fought side-by-side with the man in glinting beskar, and to see him finally get to rest made you so happy. He could finally settle for awhile.

"Well look who it is," You grin up at Din's tall stature after Greef gives him the key to his new home, "Didn't think I'd see you for a good while." You chuckle as he looks down at you, his body language displaying shock.

"What are you doing here?" Din asks in surprise, before getting interrupted by Greef.

"Oh good, why don't you show Din to his new place?" Greef asks you kindly, and you nod your head.

"Gladly." You nudge your head to the right, signaling Din to start walking with you.

"So what, you live here on Nevarro now?" Din asks, pocketing his new key.

"You're looking at the new interim Marshall." You're prideful of your new position assigned to you for now, but you still want to remain humble about it.

"Good. It's well deserved." Din nodded at you, pulling you into his side for a semi-awkward side hug. You're the only person he'd ever be comfortable touching like that. You two have an extensive history of battling together, almost dying a few times, being held hostage, rescuing each other—the list goes on. Needless to say, you both've spent lots of time together, always having each other's backs.

You couldn't deny the tension, though. There was always something in the stillness of Din that made you so curious about him. Everything he did mattered; he always moved with purpose. He was always so sure of himself, especially when it came to kicking ass.

The one thing you'll never forget about him, though, is his beautiful face. You'd happened to be there the day Luke came to take Grogu, leaving Din in tears. Even at his weakest, with hot tears in his eyes, he was still so beautiful.

You often dreamed about him, especially more so now that you know what he looked like. You never told a soul what happened on the ship that day, though, and nobody needed to know.

Nobody on that ship—especially you and Cara, ever talked about it. You were just happy to see Grogu back with his rightful parent.

Unbeknownst to you, Din often let his mind wander to you as well. Especially when it was just him in his ship, while Grogu was asleep. He couldn't help it. You were so beautiful, and the fact that you were practically a warrior made him want to melt to his knees.

He quite literally would worship the ground you walked on, if you let him.

You both reached his humble abode, Din admiring the pond right in front of his new house. His heart warmed at the thought of his son playing in those waters.

"Here you are. I live right down that way," You jerk your thumb over your shoulder to a very similar house only about a thousand feet away, "Pretty sure you'll be seeing a lot of me. Hope you don't get tired of my face." You laugh, and Din chuckles as he shakes his head.

"Not likely. Don't think I'll ever get tired of you." His voice is soft through the modulator, making a pink heat spread across your cheeks quickly at his confession.

"Well, if you need anything, I'll be that way." Your smile is small as you quickly turn on your heel, dirt crunching underneath your boots as you walked toward your house. You were walking so quickly that a small cloud of dust crowded your feet, and Din chuckled to himself as he saw what a simple flirtatious compliment did to you.

Deep down, maybe even surface-level, he was glad he was going to see you much more often now that you two were actually neighbors.

He looked down at his green, bug-eyed son with a smile underneath the helmet, "C'mon kid, let's get settled in."

-

A few days went by and Din was a bit disappointed that he hadn't seen you since you showed him to his house. He had so much free time on his hands that he quite literally didn't know what to do with himself, other than train Grogu for a couple hours at a time or polish his flashy N-1 Starfighter.

Sure he could go out into the city and mingle, but that's never been his thing. He's always been a man of few words, and he'd like it to remain that way. The only person he'd be interested in talking to for hours is you.

Your absence had a pull on his slightly lonely heart, but he knew you were busy. So, when he finally sees you for the first time in three days, he's secretly ecstatic.

"Hey." He calls out to you, beskar glinting in the Nevarro sunset. It was a warm day. The breeze was light, tampering with your flight suit as you walked up to him with a smile.

"Mesh'la." He whispers so low that his modulator couldn't even pick up on it.

"Hey, Din." You stopped right in front of him, tilting your head back a bit so your eyes could align with his visor.

"Haven't seen you in a few days." He states the obvious. Din was always nervous around you, though he hid it well, he knew he sucked at trying to hold a decent conversation with you.

The most talking you two ever really did was when you were by his side rescuing his son with him and Cara, and most of it consisted of shouting over the sound of blasters. That, and those late nights where you both couldn’t sleep so you stayed up with your backs up against the metal wall of the Razor Crest, talking about life in general.

"Yeah, Karga had a few assignments for me to do the past few days. How've you been settling in?" Your smile beams up at him, reaching out a hand to touch his bicep.

He looked down at your hand, going still for a moment before trying to relax.

Maker, he needed to pull himself together.

"Good, actually. Grogu is doing really well with his training so far." Din's voice is light, sounding happy. It was music to your ears.

"And what about you, Din Djarin? How are you handling the change of pace?" You poke his chest plate teasingly, prodding him to answer you truthfully.

"It's a bit lonely, but it's peaceful. I like it." He answers you modestly, and you nod.

"I get what you mean. That's why I keep busy, to try and distract myself from the loneliness." You chuckle, moving your hand back down to your side.

"Well, would you like to be less lonely and join me for a drink? Karga gave me a bottle upon my return. Don't think I can finish it all by myself." Din's voice held a shyness that you branded in your brain forever.

Without skipping a beat, you nod your head. "I'd love to."

-

"Wait wait wait," Your eyebrows thread together in complete bewilderment, "You mean to tell me that you nearly drowned in the Living Waters of Mandalore, only for the Armorer to tell Lady Kryze that it was okay for her to walk both ways?" You're trying so hard to wrap your head around Din's story.

You two were currently sitting at his kitchen table, enjoying the delicious liquid gold in a bottle that Greef gifted Din. You both were on your third cup as the stories kept spilling out from the beautiful brown-haired, brown-eyed man sitting across from you.

He'd taken his helmet off in the comfort of his own home, which you most certainly weren't expecting. You wanted to reach out and touch his beautiful features, but you kept your greedy hands by your side.

It was so nice to see him be so carefree for once even if it was just for a little while.

"Yeah," He chuckled, eyes averting to his nearly empty cup. "So technically I wouldn't be an apostate again." He looks up at you, and you offer him a warm smile.

You made sure to listen to all of his stories attentively, each one more terrifying, heart wrenching, and nail biting than the last.

Din was the most interesting person you knew. Though he never really said much around others, he had many stories to tell of his wild adventures all throughout the galaxy. Every single one of them was enough adventure to last one person a lifetime, but he kept opting for more.

You look back up at him, eyelashes fluttering and lips parted as his stare was eminent on you.

“What?” You’re finding yourself blushing under his stare.

“You’re so beautiful, cyar’ika.” Din’s voice is almost a whisper as a small smile etches its way onto his pink lips.

You were suddenly too shy to look this beautiful man in the eyes. Those big, dark, beautiful eyes made it feel like he was staring into your soul in that very moment.

Your eyes averted to the empty cup in front of you on the table, with a small “thank you” that escaped you.

“Let me show you how beautiful you are. Please.”

Your eyes shot up to him, shock not even beginning to cover what you felt. There’s no way this man, that you fought side-by-side with in many troubling battles, was willing to be so vulnerable for you. With you.

Still, you couldn’t help but want him. Maybe it was the alcohol flowing through your system, or your long-time secret pining after him. Maybe it was both. You wanted to feel what it would be like in his strong arms as he made sweet love to you, or maker above, even fucked you into oblivion. Had he ever even done it before?

“I’m sorry, cyar’ika. Maybe my advances were too strong.” Embarrassment started to creep over him as you realized you’d yet to answer his request. He really wish he had his helmet on right about now to avoid the flush creeping up his neck, making its way to his cheeks.

You immediately shake your head, “No, Din. I’d love that. Please, show me.” You’re breathless as you move to stand up, him following suit.

He meets you in the middle of the distance you two had before, pulling you in by your hips. Your eyes were wide with wonder, and you slowly reached one hand up to caress his stubbled cheek, while the other rested comfortably on his chest plate.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a very long time.” Din confesses, tightening his grip on you.

“Really?” You’re in such disbelief. If only you saw the way he’d always look at you when he had his helmet on, then maybe you’d not be so apprehensive to believe him.

“Since I first laid my eyes on you.” Your hand moves from his cheek to the back of his thick head of soft curls, closing the gap between you two. You had to stand on your tippy toes to reach him because he towered over you that much.

His lips on yours was even better than both of you could’ve imagined, and you’d both imagined it more often than not. You moan softly into the kiss, and Din pats your hips to signal you to jump. You obey his silent command, and he easily catches your thighs as you wrap your legs around his waist.

His cold armor pressed against your body in contrast with the summer heat of Nevarro was bone-chilling.

The kissed picked up as he started toward his bedroom, anticipation blooming in your stomach. It’d been so long since you’ve been intimate with someone, so you were a bit nervous.

Din could feel your tenseness, so he pulls apart from you as he lays you down on his soft bed. This bed was so big and luxurious compared to the one he used to have on the Razor Crest. You smile to yourself at the thought.

“Relax, sweetheart. You’re safe with me. I promise.” He smiles down at you and you lean back on the bed, sighing in content. You stare up at the ceiling until you hear a small ‘clank’, in which your eyes avert back to Din. He was slowly removing all of his armor, until he was left in nothing but his flight suit underneath.

“Hey, look, we’re matching.” You joke as you motion down to your flight suit which was very similar to his.

“I’d rather see you in your birthday suit than your flight suit.” Din’s cheekiness always fascinated you. You smile wickedly as you bite your lip, leaning up on your elbows. He moves back to hover over you once more, his face mere inches from yours.

“So take it off of me, then.” You coax him as you drag your index finger from his cheek, down the side of his throat, until you reach the middle of his torso.

He huffs out a small laugh as a smirk appears on his lips.

"Always so eager." He teases, kissing you once more. You felt his bed dip down between your slightly spread legs as he puts one knee in the middle of them, the other on the outside of your right thigh. He fluidly began to undo your suit with his skillful fingers, making sure to purposefully not graze your skin with his touch. He was being a tease and you knew it.

Eventually, he slowly pulls the suit off of you and neatly folds it. You're in your underwear and bra now, and something ravenous flashes across his eyes as he studies your curves.

"Mesh'la." His says aloud, his eyes moving back to yours.

"Din. Please don't keep me waiting." Your yearning and desire for the Mandalorian in front of you grew stronger by the second. You wanted to feel him, taste him, hear him... you wanted to be one with him.

"Never, sweetheart." He climbs over you once more before reaching behind you, taking off your bra before tossing it across the room.

You emit a small laugh at his actions, and his head appears right above yours once more.

"I could listen to that sound forever, cyar'ika." He cups your face as he kisses you gently, trailing his plush, velvety lips down to your jaw, neck, sternum, and stops to hover over one of your breasts.

"Can I?" His voice is soft, almost loving. You nod without hesitation, and he moves his mouth down to feel your soft flesh with his tongue. You sharply inhale at the sensation, a pool of arousal coating your underwear.

As if on cue, Din skates a hand over your torso before tracing the band of your underwear. He releases you from his mouth before looking up at you, eyes asking for permission.

"Yes," You whisper desperately, "You can do whatever you'd like to, Din. My body is yours. For your pleasure."

His heart skipped a beat at your words, feeling his erection becoming painfully tight in his own flight suit. He kept his eyes locked on your face when his hand dipped into the front of your underwear.

You were absolutely soaked for him, and he loved it. He ran his middle finger through your slick folds, eliciting a moan from you. He decided then and there that that sound you made for him was his second favorite. His first favorite is your laugh.

"Gedet'ye." You rasped, and Din's breathing came to a halt.

"You know Mando'a?" His eyes searched yours, and your eyebrows threaded together as you gave him a small smile.

"Elek," Your hand moves up to his hair, "Only a little." As if he couldn't find any more reasons to want to cherish you until the galaxy's end, you just gave him another.

"You never cease to amaze me, cyar'ika." He moves his finger down, teasing your entrance.

You instinctively grab on to his still-clothed bicep, relishing in his touch. He slowly enters his finger into you, and you whimper at the stretch. Not even two of your fingers could reach the length he could, let alone offer the same sensation just his one could.

He starts to pump his finger slowly, drawing sweet moans from your mouth. You pull him down to kiss you, and his tongue is ravenous with yours, both feeling needier with every second that passes.

You couldn't help but grind your hips into his finger, prompting him to slip in a second one.

He stops the languid pace of his fingers, only to unexpectedly nearly tear your underwear off your body. He wanted to taste every part of you.

He was now eye-level with your core, moaning at the sight.

"So pretty, baby, and all for me." He groans to you before delving his tongue into your slick folds, working at a delicious pace. The only sounds that could be heard were the trees rustling in the breeze, his tongue working against you, and your sweet moans.

"Fuck, Din, please don't stop." You're a panting mess by this point, his tongue stimulating you just right.

"Never, cyar'ika." He moans against you, closing his eyes to savor the taste of you. He could quite literally do this all day, if you'd let him.

You could feel the tension coiling in your core. Both of your hands found his hair as you shoved his face into your pussy even further, if that was even possible. His strong nose moved against your clit as his tongue moved up and down, the sensation of stimulation becoming almost unbearable.

He felt you stiffen underneath him as you had a near-death grip on his beautiful locks, silently warning him you were close.

You felt the hot sensation flood your body, your orgasm ripping through you as you moaned loudly, his name rolling off of your tongue multiple times. He lapped away slowly, cleaning your orgasm up with his tongue. It sent shivers down your spine as you were trying to catch your breath.

"So sweet, my love." He praises you as he moves away. He stands up, his erection incredibly evident in his suit.

"Let me take care of you now, Din." Your eyes shift from the tension in his pants back up to his face.

"Next time, baby." He smiles down at you as he quickly finishes removing his suit, leaving him in just his underwear. His body was so beautiful. Tan skin with rippling muscles in his arms and a softer yet sturdy core. Even his legs were a sight to behold. He was so breathtaking.

He moves back on top of you and molds his lips to yours once more, soft and slow.

Your hands rested themselves on his chest, and you wanted to melt. You never thought you’d get to see him like this—feel him like this. The thought that he was comfortable around you and trusted you wholly with not only his identity, but allowing himself to be vulnerable around you, made you nearly want to cry.

He reserved himself like this just for you.

Your hands found themselves moving down as you palmed him through his underwear, eliciting a strangled moan from him into your mouth.

“Can I?” It was your turn to ask, as you tugged at the waistband of the clothing that covered the part of him you so desperately craved inside of you.

He looked down at you, lips parted and hair a mess. He offered a small smile before nodding, and you tugged his underwear down his legs slowly. Once you couldn’t reach down anymore, he moved them down the rest of the way until they were off his legs completely.

Your heart was nearly pounding out of your chest. A part of you wanted to look down at him and his manhood, take him all in in all of his glory, but you were so nervous that you started to tremble. Your mouth went dry and your focus was nonexistent.

You looked up at him, sinking your teeth into the corner of your bottom lip.

“We don’t have to do this.” Din noticed your trembling body and apprehension.

“It’s not that– it’s just, I haven’t been with someone in a long time. I never thought I’d get to be with you like this. It’s… a lot to take in.” You said.

“What do you mean? I’ve wanted you since the day I laid my eyes on you. You’re all I could think about. Especially since you were willing to lay down your life and sacrifice yourself to save my son. You’re everything to me, cyar’ika.”

Din’s confession had hot tears welling in your eyes. You weren’t much of a crier but the fact that this man confessed his raw, unfiltered feelings to you had your head spinning.

He’d never been so vulnerable with anyone in his life, and truth be told, it scared the hell out of him. But, of all people, he knew that you were the one he’d want to be vulnerable with.

“Oh, Din.” You whisper to him before bringing him down to kiss you slowly once more. The kiss you two shared this time seemed to have much more meaning to it than the previous ones— not that they didn’t have meaning, but this one was like branding his confession to you.

His hand moved down to his erection as he broke his lips apart from yours, brown eyes searching yours for any sign that wanted him to stop. There clearly were none, so he took it upon himself to line himself up with your entrance, slowly pushing into you.

You gasped and shut your eyes tightly, the stinging sensation between your thighs all too present.

“Are you okay?” His voice is gentle as he cups your face, thumb caressing your cheek.

You nod reassuringly, “Keep going.”

And so he did, pushing himself into you slowly until he bottomed out. The stretch was something painful, but it was the kind of pain that kept you craving more.

His eyes met yours as he took in your expression, making sure you were okay. You felt so good wrapped around him that he nearly lost his mind. You were so intoxicating, and he wanted every ounce of you.

“Can I move?” He asked. Again, you nod your head.

He slowly moved his hips away from yours only to come right back, reaching the hilt every single time. His pace was gentle and slow, as if he were afraid if he moved any faster, he’d hurt you.

It was only then that you realized this wasn’t just a quick fuck— he was making love to you.

You wrapped your legs around his bare waist; arms around the back of his neck. You tangled your nimble fingers into his hair, tugging softly.

Your eyes sparkled for him and only him, and that made him a weak man—only for you.

Only for you would he ever take his helmet off comfortably for. Only for you would he want to be incredibly vulnerable with his emotions. Only for you would he ever want to touch like this; to make love like this. Only for you would he want to wed you and have you join his clan of two, officially making it three.

“Din,” Your whimper was soft, eyebrows threaded together as he picked up his pace ever so slightly.

He didn’t want to be rough with you. Not for tonight, at least. He wanted to genuinely show you how beautiful you were to him, and how he wanted to cherish you forever and many more lifetimes after this one.

He simply couldn’t deny the fact: he was in love with you. He hoped you felt the same way about him, too.

He gently took hold of your wrists and moved them above your head, his hands sliding into yours as he intertwined them and held them above you. He dipped his head down to kiss you as passionately as he could, keeping the steady pace of his hips.

It felt like hours that you two were moving like this, but in reality, it had to’ve been no more than ten minutes. He kept whispering sweet things against your lips that had you feeling like putty underneath his strong body. You were his, and he was yours, there was no question about it.

You felt the same hot coiling sensation deep in your core once more, burning slowly this time. You knew you’d reach your high eventually, but for now, you wanted to savor the feeling of Din’s body pressed against yours, slight sheen of sweat coating both of your bodies, connecting in the most intimate way.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that his pace picked up a little more, indicating he was searching for release. His movements had you a moaning mess beneath him, hips rolling to meet his movements. His hands moved from yours and cradled the back of your head, kissing you with such fervor.

“Please, cyar’ika– p-please, be mine. Be mine forever.” He begged you, the sureness and desperation in his voice enough to send you over the edge.

“Elek, Din, ratiin.” You moaned as you felt that same tight coil snap, pulsating around Din as your body shook with pure pleasure. He followed suit, groaning your name as he buried his face into your shoulder, his hips snapping against yours erratically as he spilled into you.

He slumped down, putting some weight on top of you as you both tried to catch your breaths. He slipped out of you after a couple of minutes, and you wanted to whine at the loss of contact. He felt so perfect being with you like that. It was like a missing piece to a puzzle.

He pulled you in closely, kissing the top of your head as you nuzzled comfortably into his chest. His messy hair clung to his sweat-ridden forehead, beautiful brown eyes glossed over with pure happiness.

This is everything he ever wanted, but never expected to get. Settling down in Nevarro with his son, and presumably the love of his life, was something that pulled on his heart strings. He was just so happy to finally live a peaceful life, especially one that involved you in it.

He’d found you fallen asleep in his arms after awhile as he traced light circles up and down your arm that rested on his chest, right where his beating heart was.

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” He confessed.

Had you been awake, you would’ve told him the same exact thing, reassuring him that what you two had was written in all the stars the galaxy held, and that he was your brown eyes—

for eternity.

Mando’a translations:

- mesh’la: beautiful

- cyar’ika: darling, beloved, sweetheart

- gedet’ye: please

- elek: yes

- ratiin: always

- ni kar'tayl gar darasuum: I love you

#the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian one shot #the mandalorian imagines #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #din djarin smut #din djarin one shot #the mandalorian spoilers #din djarin fluff #pedro pascal imagine #pedro pascal one shot

[endlessthxxghts]

Solace

Din Djarin/The Mandalorian x afab!reader || W/C: 4.3k

Summary: You help Din release his frustrations after he comes back from a weeklong hunt.

Content/Warnings: Canon divergent around season 3 (no Grogu here; one tiny reference to Living Waters). Reader is able-bodied, but there are no specific physical descriptions. Pet names for both reader and Din (fem pet names for reader). Implied established relationship (you've seen his face and call him Din) - THEY'RE IN LOVE. Reader knows a bit of Mando'a. Helmet comes off. 18+ MDNI. This is 100% porn. Boot riding...blanket..riding...(there's a lot of riding lolz). Multiple orgasms. Cunnilingus. Din is a talker when his mouth isn't occupied. Blow job/face fucking. Unprotected P in V sex. Reader is on whatever form of birth control they have in space LMAO, so #twinkie time😋. Hints of a breeding kink. Praise kink (lots of it). Switch BDSM dynamics. Soft Dom!Din along with subby/desperate!Din. Sub!Reader and soft Dom!Reader. Please let me know if I missed anything! Xx

A/N: First picture was made by @djarin-desires, and honestly, this whole oneshot was inspired by this post they made! I literally could not stop thinking about these pictures all day, so I just had to write my ✨thots✨ down. I hope you enjoy!! Other two photos are found on Pinterest - middle does not represent anything about reader’s physical appearance.

MASTERLIST || FIC NOTIFS BLOG

“Oh, shit-” you gasp. “Din, please,” eyes rolling back in pleasure, your body shivering in its nakedness compared to his fully armored form. 

“What is it, sweet girl?” he coos, his fingers caressing your cheekbone, pushing the hair from your eyes. 

“Need- stars- need more,” you cry out, your current situation proving to only bring you to the edge, but not carry you off of it. 

“One more like this, cyar’ika, then I’ll give you what you want,” Din reassures you, his leather-clad thumb running across your bottom lip, hooking himself in your mouth for you to make a mess of. “I wanna see that boot soaked, you hear me?”

Din always gets like this when he comes back from a weeklong bounty hunt. He gets hard. Dominating. In need of control. To take back the situation that got out of hand. 

You were sitting on the ground cleaning one of his blasters when he came in. He was tense. Weirdly quiet. He’s always quiet, but not with you, not for a few years now. He threw the bounty into the carbon and froze him, his chest plate rising with every breath. You knew him well enough now to know when he’s seething, and this was it. 

“Din?” you called out softly. 

He just points his helmet at you, the visor staring you down. 

“Everything okay?”

“What do you think?” He responds rather harshly.

“...Din,” you whisper, feeling every ounce of anger in those four words.

You like how it ends in these situations, though. It always ends with him a whimpering mess beneath you. There’s usually some kind of switch. He takes a third orgasm out of you, and always on the third, he becomes needy. Desperate. He just wants to be inside of you. To be balls deep and stay there, to release all of his tension while being wrapped up in you. 

You’re his solace. His warmth. His home. He always needs you. But right now, he needs his control back, so even though it’s you who’s in control by the end of the night, you stay prettily on your knees and obey dutifully. 

“I hear you, Din,” you struggle to get out with his thumb holding your tongue down, drool spilling from the corners of your mouth. 

Your thighs are on fire from your constant back and forth motion, the squelch of your slick rubbing across his shoe sending blood straight to his groin. He can feel himself itching to make you rise, to spread your legs and split you open until he can’t hold himself up anymore. But he knows you’re close even though you whine and plea for more. He knows your tells—the way your eyes struggle to stay open, the sweat beading at your temples, the way you slowly start to clamp down harder and harder on his thumb. His personal favorite, though, he discovered in this new position, is the way you start hugging tighter onto his leg, your chest rubbing against his thigh plate in an attempt to cool yourself off, but you’re just so close, the cool beskar doing nothing to ease the heat. 

“Just like that, pretty girl, come on,” Din groans, the sight before him truly testing his strength. You two have done many things together, but this? This is something new, and Din isn’t sure how long he can last. “I know you can give me one more, baby. Just one more, and then I get to feel you, come on,” he pleads, voice bubbling up into a whine. 

Oh, he’s starting to break, already? 

The thought is what sends you over, your hips stuttering in their rhythm as your arousal pours out of you, your clit shooting a sharp sensation up your spine at the sensitivity. “Dank farrik, you’re so damn gorgeous when you cum all over me, baby, so so gorgeous,” he pulls his thumb out and spreads your drool across your mouth, cradling your cheek softly in his palm as you shake in his grasp.

“Oh, fuck- oh yes, yesyesyes, Din,” you sob, head falling back between your shoulder blades. 

“Oh, my sweet girl, Maker, you’re so beautiful,” he coos, leaning down to let the forehead of his helmet rest against yours, your hot breath fogging his visor. He smiles to himself as his vision blurs momentarily. 

Din’s hands situate themselves beneath your armpits, pulling you up to your feet and supporting you as you allow your limp legs to gain their strength again. “Can I taste you, cyar’ika?” He asks as he wraps his arms around your waist, guiding you to sit on the armory crate in the corner of the hull. 

“Thought you said you wanted to feel me?” you retort, a small smirk forming on your flushed face. 

“Yeah,” he says as he drops down to his knees. “My tongue goes first.” Even with his helmet on, you can still hear the shit-eating grin with his comment. 

Din reaches for his helmet, the hiss of air signifying it’s about to come off never fails to cause butterflies to erupt in your belly. The minute his chocolate brown eyes meet yours, your heart grows two sizes greater. Your hands reach for his face. “There’s my pretty boy,” you whisper. 

His heart nearly jumps out of his chest at your words. He turns his head to kiss your palm. “My pretty girl,” he responds, bashful. “Lean back, baby.” You lay yourself back, body resting against the metal wall as his hands settle underneath you. 

Din brings himself forward, the flat of his tongue starting at the bottom of you and licking upwards—slowly, thoughtfully, calculated. He takes his time moving through your soaked folds, as if he’s mapping it out for the first time even though he’s mapped your body more times than the amount of bounties under his belt. 

The way you moan under his touch has him groaning into you, his fingers tightening their hold, his face more flush against you. He can’t get enough. His licks turn less controlled and more hungry; he uses his lips to help rub the surrounding area as he suckles every part of you he can, drinking you in, bathing in your slick as if to reclaim himself, as he did not too long ago in the Living Waters of Mandalore. His nose nudges your sensitivity as his tongue claims your entrance, the softness of your walls dancing with the softness of his tongue makes you breathless. 

Your fingers find their way into his curls, grabbing on in an attempt to ground yourself, to keep your soul beside him as he brings you to the brink of ecstasy for the fourth time since he’s been back. You whimper in distaste as his tongue leaves your hole, but the disappointment is quickly replaced by a whimper of desperation when his mouth wraps around your throbbing bud and he sucks. “Just- oh, fuck, Din- just like that,” you let out, your hips involuntarily lifting to buck into his face.

He’s quick to bring his mouth back down to your entrance, licking up every drop of the sweet nectar you always keep him full with. His nose massages your bundle as he drinks from you, and the action prolongs your climax and syrupy moans; Din works to pull as much as he possibly can from you. It’s been a week of rations and shitty meals he can sneak. So when such a delicacy is placed before him, solely for his taking, oh, he’s not going to waste a single drop. 

By the time he’s satisfied, the bottom half of his face is covered in your shine, the armory crate’s ledge is soaked, and you’re completely blissed out—face flushed and sweaty, tired eyes, a weak smile… to the average eye, you appear properly satiated. Although, Din knows that you are far from it.

“You alright, sweet girl?” Din asks, rising to his full height again. He brings his hand out for you to take, pulling you up to stand. Delaying your answer, you wrap your hands around his neck and pull him in for a messy, open-mouthed kiss, all tongue with your flavor embedded in each and every one of his taste buds. You moan into the kiss, pulling away with a bite to his plump bottom lip. “Perfect, baby,” you smile, pulling him to the makeshift bed—a pile of blankets—in the hull that you two sleep in. 

You drop yourself down onto your knees, beginning to work his armor off from his legs as he starts on his shoulders. With you helping, he’s down to his flight suit in no time, and your mouth salivates at the sight. As soon as the last clink of the precious metal leaves his body, you’re leaning your face into him, into his bulge, pressing sweet little kisses to its covered form. You can hear Din’s breath hitch, his cock twitching under your touch. “Need you in my mouth, Din,” you say as you look up at him, his eyes already hooded over at the sight of your mouth near his length. “My turn to taste you, huh, pretty boy?” You ask in a teasing tone, his face too hot to register that you’re waiting for a response from him. 

He finally registers the question when your hand dips into his bottoms, his hardness meeting your hand eagerly. You look at him expectantly. 

Although technically it’s his cock’s turn to feel you, he cannot bring himself to deny you or your skillful mouth. He cannot bring himself to deny anything you want, really. “Y-yeah- yes, baby, your turn,” he says shakily, the anticipation putting his body into sensitivity overdrive. 

He helps rip the rest of his flight suit off, and without giving him a second to breathe, you’re already spitting in your palm and working the length of him the way you know he loves. You use your mouth in tandem, your tongue licking from his base to his tip, and instantly, a loud whimper comes from the back of Din’s throat at this particular touch. 

You’re delighted by his reaction, so you repeat the motion a few more times to pull more of those sweet sounds out. “My baby is so sensitive here, isn’t he?” You pump him with your hand as you speak, placing a wet kiss to his tip when the foreskin pulls back to expose it. 

“Kriff…” he moans, his head suddenly too heavy to maintain upright. “Mesh’la, please,” Din begs. 

With one more kiss to the tip, you stop your hand’s movement completely. “Please what, baby? Use those words, honey,” you look up at him, eyes wide and full of promises to please—as soon as he vocalizes what he wants. 

His chest is heaving already at the sight of you, on your knees and looking up at him again, yet this time around, you’re the one calling the shots. 

He prefers it this way, he thinks. Sure, he comes back from a particularly frustrating hunt and ends up taking his stress out on you. Sure, it’s the most beautiful sight seeing you so worked up and at his mercy. But he is always the one in the driver seat—calculating everyone’s every turn, every action before they even have the chance to act. Din’s mind is always active, always alert. Yet, when you have him like this, in this yielding state, it’s like his mind gets to be quiet. With you, under your touch and under your gaze, Din is able to exist in your presence without a worry. He’s finally able to just be. Not a bounty hunter, not the big and tough Mandalorian everyone fears. No, he’s Din. Your Din. Your sweet boy. Yours. And that’s the greatest honor to ever bestow upon him. At least, that’s how he sees it anyway. 

“Y-your mouth, mesh’la, p-please,” he says softly. Your eyebrow quirks up. You want just a little bit more. “Want your- need your mouth on me, baby, please,” he breathes out, attempting and failing to ease the neediness in his voice. 

You hum triumphantly before you begin pumping him again, your hand focusing on his base while your mouth lavishes his leaking head. You swirl your tongue around, the salty flavor of him quick to override your senses, and Din lets out a strangled moan, his hips softly bucking in your grasp. 

Your hand releases him, letting your mouth take full control. You grab onto his thick thighs for stability, breathing through your nose as you let the tip of him reach as far back as you can handle. He gasps when he hits the back of your throat, the twitch of his body triggering your gag reflex, your throat tightening in on where he’s most sensitive. “Oh, fuck,” he grunts, fighting his hips to stay in place and let you do your thing. 

You garble something incoherent, humming into his cock as you pull yourself on and off of him a few more times. Pulling back for a small breather, you use your finger to collect up the spit-arousal mixture from the sides of your mouth and pump it on his erection, his hips twitching once again at your ministrations. 

You know what he really wants right now, but with his head in cloud nine, you know he’ll never ask for it himself. “You wanna fuck my mouth, Din?” You ask bluntly. 

His entire face and chest turn red faster than the speed of light. He sputters in his response. “I- oh my Maker, mesh’la, is that- are- are you sure? I-”

You cut him off by leaning in to kiss his thigh. He softens in your touch. “Din, pretty boy, it’s a yes or no. One word. Choose.” 

“Yes,” he replies, not a single hesitation in sight. 

“Good boy,” you purr. “See what happens when you say what you want from me?”

You shift yourself to a more comfortable position sitting on your haunches, fluffing the blankets underneath you to soften the ache of the metal floor. You look up to Din who’s watching you eagerly but with a softness that tells you to take all your time in the world. Doing this isn’t just for him, though. Letting him take control of you here turns you on just as much as it does him, maybe even more. 

You take one more glance into his thirsty eyes, and, well, okay… maybe he enjoys this slightly more. Nonetheless, you don’t take your time because you can feel the butterflies in your core beginning to flap once again as Din brings himself closer to you, lining himself up with your mouth.

“Don’t waste this opportunity, Djarin. Better use me good, yeah?” You tease, leaning your head back slightly as you stick your salivating tongue flat out, waiting for him to enter. 

His entire body shivers at your words. “Yes, ma’am,” he says under his breath, focusing on easing himself into your mouth as steady as possible, trying to maintain some ounce of self-restraint he’s inevitably going to lose. 

Once his tip is in your mouth, his hands find their home rooted at the base of your air, his thumb reaching forward to caress the apple of your cheeks. He doesn’t move at first, apprehensive in the case he might hurt you. He’s always like this at the beginning, and every single time, you reassure him it’s okay. 

You let out a muffled mhm, his signal to keep going. Din’s fingers flex, guiding your head further in as his hips slowly meet you halfway. He’s holding his breath, you can tell in the way his belly twitches. But the moment your swallow reflex triggers around him, he’s gone. “Oh, shit-” he moans ragged, his hips never fully retreating before he’s bucking into you again. “Oh, sweet girl, fuck-” he gasps. “Always so perfect, feel so perfect around me, stars, baby-” he praises, his hips moving at a comfortable, steady pace now. 

You moan around him, eyes rolling back at how good and heavy he feels coasting the expanse of your tongue. Your spit drips further down your chin and neck with each thrust, the messiness of it all mirroring itself between your thighs. Your hands leave the expanse of your thighs and reach for the blankets underneath you. As best as you can, you shuffle them in between you, using it to grind your hips on it, giving you a much needed relief. The material catches on your clit deliciously, pulling a muffled gasp from your throat, sending the sensation up Din’s spine. 

“Oh, fuck, look at you,” he groans, his eyes fighting to stay open at the raw pleasure coursing through his veins as he starts thrusting into you harder, faster. “So pretty, baby, fuck- thank you, pretty girl,” he rambles. “Maker, you feel so damn good.” 

Your moans and whines don’t stop, they reverberate off each metal wall and into his ears, providing him with the sweetest song. Din, ever the talker, is long lost in the way you feel and the way you move. 

“Keep moving those hips, sweet girl, rub that pretty pussy on our blankets, baby.” 

“Gonna cum like that again, baby? Gonna make a mess where we sleep?” 

“Shit, gonna make me lick it up and clean it? Please make me clean it, baby,” he whines, his hips beginning to falter. 

The last thing he says to you is what sends you over the edge, your fingers gripping the blankets below you, bringing it flush against your core as if it were Din’s curls you’re hanging onto. Your hips speed up, chasing the orgasm that is just right there, and with one last thrust forward, you’re cumming. You’re breathing heavily through your nose, tears streaming down your face as you whimper around his dick, begging for the one thing you know he’s not gonna give you. 

With a few more thrusts, you can feel his cock start to twitch, and just as you suspected, he pulls out of you before he can finish. 

“Baby, no,” you cry, leaning yourself forward, chasing after him. Right away, he’s dropping down to his knees, hands still on either side of your face as he’s finally eye level with you. 

“Baby, cyar’ika, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please,” he repents, his chest rising and falling heavily, still out of breath from edging himself. “I just- I didn’t- I… I wanted to cum somewhere else, baby,” his voice falls quieter, shyer. 

Your scowl fades, forming into a more mischievous demeanor, more hungry. You can’t quite argue his reasoning. Because, you, too, would very much like him to finish… elsewhere. “Yeah, baby?” You taunt. “And where do you wanna cum, sweet boy?”

He swallows thickly, his needy eyes on yours, blacked with a ferality he’s addicted to. “In- inside,” he whispers. 

“Inside?” you’re quick to repeat. “Wanna cum inside me, sweet boy? Fill me up? I’ve made so many messes today, is it your turn to make one, baby?”

He leans in to meet your kiss, but you pull away slightly. Answer me, your face tells him. 

“Y-yeah- yes, stars, yes- fuck- please, baby, I wanna cum inside you, wanna make a mess of you so fucking bad, please-” he starts to answer. Satisfied, you cut him off with your lips on his.

You wrap your arms around his neck, lips never breaking the seal, you pull him over you as you lay yourself down on your guys’ bed, scooting farther up for your head to reach a pillow, your back barely missing your puddle of arousal. Din multitasks, grabbing one of the other near pillows and placing it underneath your hips as your body lands on the ground. Your legs are already hooked onto his waist, not giving him the space to stray too far. 

Once you’re settled, Din’s hand is cradling the back of your head while the other reaches for his cock, covered in your wetness and leaking with his own arousal. He guides himself to you, running his tip along your slick folds, stopping to tap on your clit before bringing himself back down to your entrance. He breaks the kiss when he does this, his eyes laser focused on where you two connect. His hand on the back of your head pushes to angle you down, so you can watch, too, both of you observing and listening to the lewdness of it all. 

Finally, his head catches at your entrance, pushing himself in slowly. He’s always a stretch, always something you’ll never quite really get used to, but you love the feeling. Obsessed, even. There are some days where you rile him up on purpose just so he gives it to you, no preparation or foreplay. On those days, he has you screaming, your fingernails digging deep into his back to tether yourself to reality in some kind of way. On his softer days, you have to beg him to, reassure him that it doesn’t hurt—in a bad way. 

As soon as he’s seated all the way to the hilt, he pulls back out entirely before he thrusts back in. You both moan out at the action, your pussy immediately releasing a fresh new wave of arousal around him. “Oh, fuck,” you both mutter at the same time, your eyes meet, and a euphoric smile graces each of your faces. 

“Y-you feel so good, baby, s-so fucking big,” you mewl, your hands tightening their hold around his neck, both the tips of your noses kissing each other. 

“It’s like you were made- fuck-” he stutters, his hips slowing for a brief moment, allowing himself to really feel you. “It’s like I was made for you,” he corrects himself. “I was made for you,” he says again, leaning in to slot his lips against yours.

“Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” you say against his lips. I love you. “And I was made for you,” you squeak out, your head bobbing back and forth as the pleasure brings your mind further and further into space. 

“Shit, mesh’la,” he grits between his teeth. His hips speed up at that, loving the way his native tongue sounds on yours. “Ni kar’tayl gar darasuum,” he repeats back to you. “I’m yours, cyar’ika. Yours,” he murmurs, his head crashing into the crook of your neck and shoulder, sucking and biting at the sweaty flesh. 

He sits up on his haunches for a second, hooking the crook of his elbows into your knees before leaning back over you—the angle allowing him to hit so deep and allowing his pubic area to stimulate your pulsing nerve with every thrust in—you scream out as he repeatedly makes you feel things that no one has ever been able to do, not even yourself. 

“Din,” you keen, his name leaving your mouth like a sinful prayer. “Din, baby, please, I think I’m gonna- fuck-”

“Gonna cum again for me, pretty girl?” He smirks. “Fuck, I’m never gonna stop saying this- you’re so fucking perfect. Come on, baby, cum for me, fucking soak me. Soak me before I make you fucking overflow with me, my sweet girl,” he snarls, his lips meeting yours in a bruising kiss, truly a dance of tongue and spit as he fucks into you at the same pace that brought you to yet another climax. 

Your hands yank on his fluffy curls, back arching into his body as much as this restricting angle allows you to. “Din, oh my-! Fuck- so fucking good, fuck-” you wail out, your heart beating out of your chest as your pussy pulses around his cock, making an utter mess between your two lower halves. 

The flutter of you and the instant wetness consuming him is what sends Din to his finish line. He continues thrusting, shakily, through his own orgasm, his load coating every inch of you, both inside and out. You wanted a mess, so he truly gave you a mess. 

He releases the hold on your legs to wrap his arms around you, his entire body flush against yours as your legs wrap themselves tightly around him again. He’s still inside you, his hips softly still moving in and out as he leaves kisses all along your lips, your jawline, your neck. 

The way you feel, full of him and him, has your hips meeting his small advances, both of you reveling in the aftershock of your highs as you use the pleasure to ease you back down. 

“You okay, mesh’la?” Din asks eventually when you both come to an exhausted, satiated halt. 

“Perfect, my sweet boy,” you smile, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “You okay, though?” You ask hesitantly, and not about what you two just did together. He brings his lips to yours. Soft, and not in a way to arouse you again. In a way that says thank you and I love you in a way spoken tongue will never be able to convey.

“I will be,” he answers truthfully. “Pick a planet, you can pick me apart after we get food.”

“Sounds like a deal, baby.”

“Come, let’s get cleaned up.” He kisses your forehead before he untangles himself and pulls you up to your feet as well, both of you making your way to the refresher. 

In the corner of his eye, he sees his now semi-shiny boot, starting to dry off in the midst of everything else you two did. He smirks to himself. 

You catch it, of course. “What’re you smiling at, Djarin?”

“Nothing,” he says nonchalantly. “Just… I clean my armor and boots after every bounty.”

“And?” You ask, still not realizing where he’s headed. 

“I don’t know if I wanna clean my boots anymore.”

Your eyebrows raise to the middle of your forehead, eyes bulging out of your face. “Din!” you slap his chest. Then, your face goes stern. “You will be cleaning those boots more often if you want me to do that again."

Oh. 

“Yes, ma’am.”

End notes:

Thank you so much for reading, I really hope you guys enjoyed this one! Please let me know what you guys think, I really love hearing your guys’ reactions and feedback!🫶

Also, did y’all clock how many orgasms reader had in this damn thing?! Coochie of fucking steel fr 😭😭

Moon divider by @saradika-graphics 🩶

@pedrostories

#endless thoughts fics #pedro pascal #pedrohub #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal smut #smut #pedrostories #one shot #fic #smut fic #din djarin #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin smut #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian smut #din djarin x you #star wars fanfiction #din djarin x female reader

[beskarandblasters]

Tell me how it’s lookin’, babe

Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: Thank you to @planet-marz1 for sending the discord this image because that’s what inspired all this 😵‍💫 Gifs are by @bestintheparsec and banners + dividers are by @saradika 🖤

Summary: You see Din in just his flight suit and don’t know how to act.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, helmet stays on, porn with little plot, pet names (cyar’ika for you, baby for Din), tattooed!Din, shy!Din, uncircumcised!Din, body worship, oral sex (M receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, half ass editing 😔, no use of y/n

It’s been another long, exhausting day. All you can think about is peeling your clothes off your sweaty body and crawling into Din’s bunk… And dumping the sand out of your boots. Maker, you really don’t care for Tatooine.

The walk across the desert is laborious, but soon enough the Razor Crest appears in the distance, like a mirage before your eyes. You pick up the pace, anxious to feel some air conditioning already. Before you know it Din’s lowering the exit ramp and you’re back inside the cool metal interior of the Crest. You slip off your boots and leave them by the door before heading to the bunk. You don’t hesitate to shed layers of clothes as you walk, tossing them into a pile on the floor at the foot of the cot. It’s nothing new for Din, he’s seen you naked countless times now. But you look over at him, leaning in the door frame by the bunk, and covered in layer after layer…

“You’re not… hot?” you ask him.

“…What do you mean?”

“Like sweaty, Din.”

“Oh… Yes.”

“You don’t ever wanna take all that off? Not the helmet of course. But even just the armor?”

“I guess I could.”

“Only if you’re comfortable,” you reassure him, taking a step closer to him and placing your hand on the hollow part of his helmet. He rests his hand on top of yours and says, “I am.”

You nod, looking deep into the T-shaped visor and take a step back so he can start to remove his armor, his weapons, and his cape. It’s methodical and meticulous the way he does it, each piece carefully removed and placed into a small pile on the floor.

And now he’s standing before you, wearing only his boots and his flight suit. He looks hot in his armor, there’s no question about that. But now that he’s just in his flight suit you can see his form so much better; his biceps, his chest, his thighs, everything. You’re fully staring at him, mouth agape and eyes full of lust and admiration. He’s all yours.

“Cyar’ika?” he says, breaking your trance.

“Hm?”

“What are you looking at?”

“You.”

You hear his breath hitch under the helmet. You take a step closer again and run your hands along the fabric of the flight suit. His visor follows the movement of your hand, running along his chest and down his arms. You look down and there’s a bulge growing in his flight suit.

“How do I look?” he says softly.

“So kriffing good, Din.”

“Really?”

“Of course you do,” you respond, moving your hand down to his groin. He lets out a strained “cyar’ika” as you palm his cock over his flight suit.

“Feel like shedding another layer?” you ask with a grin.

“You want to see me like that?”

“Baby, I’ve been dreaming about it.”

“You mean that?”

“Mhm,” you say, feeling the wetness grow between your legs.

“I guess I could take it off.”

“Only if you want to,” you reassure him, meeting his gaze again.

“I’m sure,” he says with a small nod.

He takes off his gloves, tossing them by the pile of beskar the corner before slipping off his boots. You follow the movement of his hands, realizing this is the first of his skin you’re seeing other than his cock. His hands are calloused, peppered with small scars from years of training, fighting, and bounty hunting.

And now it’s time for the flight suit to come off. He takes a deep breath and unzips it, stepping out of it and again tossing it by the pile of armor in the corner. His cock springs free as he releases it from the fabric, hard and sticking straight out. His whole figure is broad, his limbs toned and muscular. There’s more scars like the ones on his hands. Some are smaller and paler in color. Some are deeper, their edges more irregular. He’s got some beauty marks as well, each of them scattered about in his chest and arms, down to his legs. On his left bicep he has a tattoo, a simple black ring encircling his upper arm. It suits him well. He’s just beautiful, every feature of his telling a part of his history. And you’d like to know more.

You’ve had thoughts in the past that seeing Din completely naked with just his helmet on might be a weird sight, but now that it’s here in front of you it just feels right; a sliver of intimacy you and only you will ever know, even if you can’t see his face.

“Din… you’re beautiful,” you say, hands immediately gravitating to his sides.

“You don’t mean that.”

“Oh but I do,” you say, one hand roaming up his torso and to his chest, while the other moves down to his cock.

He says nothing, his visor fixed on your hand stroking his cock.

“Let me show you,” you say softly.

You sink to your knees and kiss along his groin. He lets out a soft groan every time you inch closer to his cock. You bring a hand to his balls and cup them lightly before finally swirling your tongue around the head of his cock, sliding it underneath the foreskin to draw a sharper moan from him. He curses under his breath and runs a hand through your hair, desperate for more.

And finally, you give it to him, taking his length in your mouth. The grip on your hair tightens as you bob your head up and down, all while you’re still cupping his balls. You look up at him, making eye contact with his visor as you suck him off. All of a sudden his balls tighten up in your hand and his cock twitches in your mouth. He’s going to cum soon but you’re not ready for that just yet. You pull your mouth away much to his chagrin as he lets out a soft whimper when you do.

“On the cot, baby,” you say, wiping the drool dripping from your chin.

He lies down on the cot and you move to straddle him, his cock glistening with his pre cum and your spit resting by your cunt. He brings a hand to your entrance, stroking it up and down with his fingers and spreading around your wetness. His fingers circle around your clit, working you up and making you more anxious to sit on it already. And eventually, you just can’t take it anymore.

You move his hand away, pinning it up by his helmet while you inch forward and sink down onto his cock. You’ve ridden him before but now you get to rest his hands on his bare chest for once. And you do, the warmth of his skin radiating against your palms as you rock your hips back and forth. His hands move to your waist, giving the skin a soft squeeze while you drive his cock deeper inside you.

“Kriff, cyar’ika,” he curses, coming out as a moan.

“Mmm, you feel so good. Kriff, you look so good, Din,” you respond, tears stinging your vision as you look into his visor. It’s hard to stay fixed on his visor for long, though. Your eyes want to roam his body. They keep gravitating towards the tattoo on his bicep.

“And when did you get this?” you ask, fingers grazing the tattooed skin.

“A long time ago. You like it?”

“Mhm. Maybe you should get more.”

“Oh, yeah? You’d like that?”

“I’d love that.”

Kriff, now you’re thinking of Din with more tattoos and your mind starts going hazey at the thought. You grind your hips against him, feeling the wetness seep out of you and down his shaft, soaking his groin. The small bunk is filled with the obscene noises of skin colliding with skin and the wet sound of his cock moving in and out of you.

Soon enough, you’re at the edge of orgasm thanks to Din’s cock hitting all the deepest angles inside you, the sight of his bare body beneath yours and the thought of him with tattoos.

“Din, I’m gonna cum,” you whimper.

“Mm, let me feel it, cyar’ika.”

A tingling sensation originates at your core and spreads outwards. The movement of your hips grow erratic as you ride out your high, the pool of wetness beneath you growing bigger as you cum. Your own orgasm triggers Din’s and soon you’re both coming together. His cum spills inside you and his grip on your waist tightens as he moans your name.

But now you’re resting against his chest, his cock still inside you and starting to go soft. Your bodies are slick with sweat as you catch your breath. You whisper beside his helmet, “You should get naked more often.”

“I bet you’d like that.”

“Oh come on, you know I would.”

He chuckles, “I know, cyar’ika. I know.”

He rubs your back and soon enough you’re both falling asleep, letting the exhaustion from the day and the evening’s activities finally get to you. You could spend the rest of your days like this.

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