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moonlitdesertdreams · 26 days

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Too Sweet

A/N: Hi friends. I haven't written anything in a while, as I've been tussling with my mental health and raging SAD from the weather near me. Please accept this Mandalorian drabble? Rambling? Takes place between the end of season two and Din's appearance in the Book of Boba Fett. Tags: The Mandalorian, Mandalorian x Reader, Din Djarin x Reader, Mandalorian x F!Reader, Apostate!Din WARNINGS: None Summary: You've been a safe place for Din Djarin for years. He comes to you at his most vulnerable, but always has to leave before you're ready. Title inspired by the Hozier song of the same name.

Word count: 1.6k+

Hours later, you’re still in shock.

Din Djarin is in bed next to you, sans helmet.

It wasn’t unusual for him to be in your home- hell, it would be more unusual for him not to be there between jobs. Your Mandalorian had spent years visiting, hovering somewhere in between a lover and a partner. He shows up in the afternoon one day, and is gone early in the morning before you wake. When he returns, beaten and bruised, you chastise him for leaving without saying goodbye. The routine was comfortable. Familiar.

Except every other time he had been there, you had never seen his face.

It feels like a dance each time he comes. You tend to his wounds quickly but gently, lathering cuts and bruises in bacta before wrapping bandages or slings where necessary to let the medication heal. Once you’ve played nurse, Din secludes himself to your study to eat dinner. And each time, without fail, he leads you to the bedroom to extinguish the fireplace and blow out your candles. His hands find your body, and he ravishes you in the darkness.

Key word being darkness.

Today was the same song and dance. He’d limped into your cabin without greeting, shaking snow from his armored body and settling himself into a kitchen chair while you fussed. A tube of bacta and half a roll of bandages later, he silently trudged away to eat in the study. There was a distinct lack of little green child with him today, which was a major concern after the past year. You suspected it had something to do with the oppressive sense of sorrow following him through the house. So you carried on with your usual routine, asking little to no questions. It wasn’t until he’d crowded you up against the sink, bowl still in your grip as you rinsed it, that he spoke.

“Mesh’la.”

Strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, and you leaned back into an unarmored chest. In hindsight, you chastised yourself for not noticing the words lacked the electrical buzz of a vocoder.

“Din.” You returned.

He only grunts, right hand gliding up your side. It grips your shoulder, and presses until you turn to face him, bowl still gripped in your damp fingers.

“You know, words are- Din!”

The porcelain bowl shattered as it collided with the kitchen floor. You’d dropped it out of pure instinct, hands flying up to cover your eyes. As much as you’d tried to forget what you saw, it was burned into your brain. Wavy hair, long nose with a scar crossing the bridge of it. Big, brown eyes that couldn’t possibly belong to someone so stern and ruthless. It flashes across your mind, and you almost tear up at the thought of Din breaking his Creed after all these years.

But he’d pulled your hands away and explained - while your eyes are still pinched closed- that he was an apostate. The Child was returned to his own people, but at the cost of Din’s Creed. It had taken minutes of coaxing and reassurance, but you’d opened your eyes and cursed the universe for being so cruel as to hide such a face. From the set of his brow to the nervous biting of his lip, you basked in seeing so much bare skin. It took less time for him to attach his lips to yours and lead you out of the kitchen.

He’d taken you to bed, and now here you sit.

Your room isn’t anything special. Quaint and cozy if nothing else, with two small windows that face out over the mountain’s edge. A fireplace flickers opposite the bed, its warmth trickling out to the sheets and heating your toes. Two bookshelves border either side of your headboard, with a nightstand tucked on Din’s side of the bed. On it, the usually extinguished candles burn bright.

The firelight flickers against Din’s tan skin, highlighting each bead of sweat and curled tendril of hair where it sticks to his forehead. He’s naked, back propped against the headboard and covered in a maroon sheet from the waist down. You’ve donned a short silk robe, black and bordered with laces where it plunges between your breasts. You lay between his legs above the sheets, head on his chest. One of his large hands caresses your scalp and trails to the ends of your hair. The other hand is occupied by a half-full glass of old Corellian whiskey.

You trace a line of yellow bruises on his hip where they extend below the sheet on his lap.

“What happened to you?”

His chest rumbles. “I fought an Imperial Moff. And Imperial battle droids.”

Your eyes widen, and you sit up. Din’s hand leaves your hair to grasp at your waist, pulling you to face him.

“Stars, Din.” You reach out to touch a patch of black and blue skin over his collarbone. “No wonder you’re so beat up. I’ll get you some more bacta before we go to sleep.”

He lifts your fingers from his collarbone to his mouth, kissing each fingertip. “You’re too good to me, cyar’ika.”

“You deserve it.” Is your instant reply.

If there was anything you knew about Din, it was that he never quite comprehended the good he brought to the world.

The Mandalorian brings the whiskey to his lips and takes a swig. You opt to push an errant curl behind his ear.

“I’m not a good man,” Your name falls off his tongue like honey. “Spent my whole life as kyramud.”

You tilt your head at the Mando’a. He’d called you some pet names for years- mesh’la, cyar’ika. But this… kyramud was new. Without his helmet, hearing anything out of his mouth was like a drug. But Mando’a warmed you to the core, building off Din’s comfort and fondness when he spoke the ancient tongue. You yearned to know more.

“Teach me Mando’a.” You kiss him gently, tasting the whiskey where it lingers on his lips. “So I can tell you why you deserve every bit of kindness.”

Din adjusts your legs so you’re sitting square between his, rear end on the bed and legs straddling his waist. He props you up with the ridiculous amount of pillows lying around.

“I’ll teach you anything you want.” Din strokes your knee. “Where do I start?”

You chew on your bottom lip. “What am I to you?”

“Ner cyare.” He pauses, debating. The whiskey makes another appearance, and you’re distracted by his Adam's apple bobbing deliciously in the column of his throat. “Naysol uj par ni. Each day I see you is aay’han.”

“What does that mean?”

Din tilts your chin up. “My beloved. Too sweet for me.”

You blush. “What about the end? Ay-hen?”

“Aay’han. Mourning and joy. At the same time.” He finishes the whiskey. “I mourn when I leave you here.”

Much to your annoyance, tears prick your eyes at the reminder that when you closed them, he would be gone before you woke. “Don’t remind me. Please.”

Din leans forward to capture your lips with his. The sensation only serves to make the stinging behind your eyes worse, and a single tear drips down your cheek. He’s quick to kiss it away, large hand curling into your hair. You climb all the way into his lap, suddenly desperate for closeness. His skin is hot and damp, and you’ve never felt anything better.

“Ni ceta. I never meant to hurt you.”

You sniffle against his neck. “Just promise me you’ll say goodbye from now on.”

He wets two fingers with his tongue and extinguishes the candles before cradling you in strong arms. Two words are murmured into your hair, quiet but sound.

“I promise.”

You grip him tighter than ever, warmth sadly fading as the dread of morning envelopes you.

The reflection of daylight off snow-covered ground wakes you.

It bounces in your windows, bathing the room in cool white light. You blink slowly, a heaviness settled on all of your limbs. It’s a familiar soreness that aches from your shoulders to between your legs, dredging up memories of the night before. Din’s bare face, and all the sweet words in Mando’a that he tried to teach you before you remembered he can never stay as long as you’d like. You sigh, letting one of your arms dangle off the edge of the bed. The thought of turning over and seeing the candles, thinking about him blowing them out on each visit was too fresh. It’s easier to lay and stew in your sadness, watching fluffy flakes of snow fall. The clock on your wall reads ‘1457’, another unintentional reminder of your late-night escapades.

You hate to admit that the feeling makes you tear up again. So you lay in bed, curled beneath a thick comforter while the fireplace crackles its last few breaths towards your feet. It’s easier to stare at the snow than it is to close your eyes and think about Din.

“Damn it.” You breathe.

“What are you damning?”

You swear that you stop breathing for a moment. Despite the fact that he had already spoken, you ask aloud, “Din?”

The sounds of bare feet padding across the floor nears, and the Mandalorian appears in your vision. Barefoot and clad only in a pair of loose gray lounge pants that tighten at his ankles. His abdomen is without cover, displaying an array of healing bruises and deep scars. You sit up, letting your feet hang off the bed.

“You’re still here?” You look at the clock again. “At 1500?”

Din smiles, kneeling in front of you. He presses a mug of steaming Caf into your hands and a kiss to your forehead.

“If it’s alright with you… I might be for a while.”

It’s your turn to smile as he smoothes away your bedhead.

“No arguments.” You sip at the warm mug. “I’ll keep taking my Caf in bed, though.”

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Masterlist | Send me ideas

#The Mandalorian #Mandalorian x Reader #Din Djarin x Reader #Mandalorian x F!Reader #Apostate!Din #grogu #baby yoda #mando'a #mando x reader #mando x you #din djarin x you #din djarin #too sweet #hozier #din likes his whiskey neat #and his coffee black

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idliketobeatree · 1 month

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listening to Too Sweet for the first time and, damn, Crowley never got his flat back, did he? can't believe he's been crashing on Hozier's couch all this time drinking booze and waxing lamentations about his angel. strange world we live in

#hozier #crowley #good omens #ineffable husbands #but for real. this man is insane “you treat your mouth as if it's Heaven's gate” how do i keep going with my life after this line.#he'll take his whiskey neat his coffee black and his bed at three? 'kay.#i'll never write good omens fics or poetry half as good as this fucker (affectionate)#anthony j crowley #music #unheard ep #too sweet #marcela talks

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puppetmaster13u · 5 months

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Prompt 109

“What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck-” Tim chanted to himself, looking down at his cup of tea in betrayal. Was he hallucinating, had he been drugged with something? He had slept last night!

Yet there in their own Lazarus Pit, the one in the cave not the giant one somewhere under the rest of Gotham, was a literal baby, looking just as surprised as he was. Of course that didn’t last, and its face scrunched up as it started to cry, which was his first hint that no, this was not in fact a hallucination.

There was a pit baby in the Lazarus pool.

. . .

There was a pit baby in the Lazarus pool.

OH FUCK, there was a pit baby in the freaking Lazarus pool-

#dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #Tim has reverted to tea to try and not drink as much coffee #Will that last now? who knows #tim is so done #He fishes the lazarus baby out with a cloth and his pole #Danny's accident happened when he was a toddler #he was in the lab with his parents and they left him unsupervised #He's a toddler and big shiny button ooh-#He's very confused and scared but latches onto the first person he sees #The rest of the batfam are also confused when they head down and Tim has?? a baby???#A baby who looks like a reverse Jason with white hair with a black streak #Tim what did you do-

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stevebabey · 1 month

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"Alright, here we go!" The bartender announces, leaning up to place the drinks on the bar.

"That's one whiskey, neat—" He says, sliding the lowball cocktail glass with amber liquid in front of Eddie.

"—And one Whammin' Slammin' Booty-Bangin' Pina Colada."

He places the extravagant cocktail in front of Steve. It's decorated to the nines with a straw, an umbrella, a piece of pineapple, and a little bit of tinsel on a toothpick. A whole party decoration in a drink.

"You guys have a good night." The bartender says warmly, already moving down the bar to tend to other customers.

Eddie stares down at the whiskey in the glass before him and pouts a little. Beside him and watching his boyfriend closely, Steve rolls his eyes.

"Oh, quit being dramatic," Steve says, sliding the cocktail across the bar so it's in front of Eddie, who had ordered it. He steals the glass of whiskey back at the same time.

"It happens every time."

"It happens most times."

"That isn't much better!" Eddie protests, even as he leans down and takes a long sip from the straw while they both get to their feet and leave the bar. Steve's hunting for a table they can snag, his eyes narrowed in focus. Eddie follows him blindly, his cocktail cupped in both hands.

"I'm serious, Steve! What is it about this adorable face—" He says, gesturing to himself, barely letting go of the straw to talk. It doesn't seem to faze him that Steve doesn't even glance back. "—Says I don't want to enjoy a Whammin' Bammin' Big Booty Colada?"

Steve comes to a stop, pausing his search for a moment to look back at Eddie. His expression seems unimpressed on the surface but Eddie can see his lips twitching up at the corners.

"We've had this conversation too many times, babe." He sighs halfheartedly and takes a quick sip of his own whiskey, eyes casting back out across the bar. "You have scary dog energy, you know this. You specifically dress like this on purpose."

Eddie picks up the pineapple wedged on the edge of his glass and bites into it, sending it down with another sip of his cocktail as Steve leads them further into the back of the bar. He finally spots a spare empty table.

"C'mon, I think I found one." Steve urges, one hand snaking back to make sure Eddie's following.

"Is it a crime to wish to not fall victim to stereotypes?" Eddie prattles on, following Steve duly by slipping his hand into Steve's outstretched one. His cocktail wobbles precariously as he takes another gulp.

"Like when that waitress gave me your awful black coffee! And you got my delicious delicacy that I paid extra hard-earned money for..."

i like to think that when steve and eddie go out, people always lean into their assumptions and are like hmm ok preppy boy with the polo? oh he gets the fruity cocktail! and eddie is always like >:( i don't want this expensive puddle of piss gimme the bonanza supreme cocktail pls. like excuse me i paid for that.

#steve's got expensive booze taste bcos he partied lots as a teen & he got into his dad's expensive stuff #and now it's all he likes #eddie doesn't drink loads cos he usually smokes instead so when he does drink he never wants to taste the alcohol #and he likes that they're pretty and come w fun things :)#steve also likes black coffee cos he was on that Sports Diet through hs #eddie packs his with sugar and creamer if he can #hehehe have this headcanon <3 from me to you #that i thought of rn #steddie #steve x eddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steddie headcanon #heheheheh <3 #i also love drinks with the most insane names. like please tell me you know what i mean #ruby writes steddie

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wtfastaroth · 3 months

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My cat purrs at everything, it's so cute

I pet him? He purrs

I touch him? He purrs

I talk with him? He purrs

I hug him? He purrs

He is such a sweet boy I love him😭😭

I would kill for this cat, I can't live without him

#asth talk #cat #black cat #my pet cat #his name is Café (coffee) by the way

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amygdalae · 1 year

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theres this one customer that comes in pretty infrequently but is recognizable enough that we all just refer to him as “the Elvis Guy”. he always comes in looking for books about Elvis. and every time he’s around he expresses incredulity that we don’t have many books about Elvis in stock. “He’s still the King, you know”, he said recently. Fallout character behavior

#on sunday he was looking specifically for coffee table books about Elvis. i could not find any we were able to order #if you just imagine what his voice must sound like youll probably be right on target #hes always wearing a long black coat and looks very tired #i just picture him aimlessly wandering the mid-apocalyptic american wasteland searching for just a smackerel of Elvis

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hyperfixating-rn-brb · 1 month

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someone go see if hozier has actually watched good omens or if he was just blessed by a particular angel to have been exposed to a particular demon. I refuse to believe any of this is coincidence.

#hell take his whiskey neat coffee black and bed at three.#read that line and tell me crowley hasnt been living on his couch for months at this point.#hozier #good omens #aziracrow #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #ineffable divorce

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katalaocrazy · 30 days

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YOU TREAT YOUR MOUTH AS IF IT’S HEAVEN’S GATE!!!

🕊️ I LOVE INTERGALACTIC LESBIANS SO MUCH!!!!!

#he takes his whiskey neat #his coffee black in his bed at three #robinhill #hsr boothill #hsr robin #penacony #hsr #honkai star rail

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kenneduck · 5 months

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Sidlink BOTW AU where Sidon WANTS to fancy Link, but thinks Link will only like a Hylian, so Sidon tries to act Hylian around Link... except Sidon doesn't know much about Hylians.

Sidon just squatting and trying to act shorter around Link. Attempting to hide his sharp toothy grin and stop his tail from wagging. He's starting fires when trying to cook Hylian meals. Sidon putting on pants... incorrectly. It's really weird. Everyone in the domain is thinking the Prince is having a midlife crisis.

Sidon IS having a crisis, but it's a gay panic one.

But unbeknownst to Sidon, Link has fallen for these Zora quips. The smile Sidon flashes makes Link lose his train of thought... the way Sidon's tail wags makes Link flustered. When Sidon shook Link's hand with his two smothering strong ones, Link felt dizzy. Link is missing these quirks Sidon would show, so Link is determined to see them again!

When Link and Sidon are alone in Zora's Domain, Link purposely tells a funny story to the Prince. One he KNOWS will get him to laugh. But when Sidon turns his face from Link to "keep cool", Link gets frustrated. He grabs onto the fishy prince's face, asking him WHY Sidon is acting so differently. Sidon tries to deflect such a notion, but Link calls Sidon out on all the weird things he's been noticing... especially the pants.

Sidon cracks under the gaze of this Hylian! Link not only sees right through Sidon's changes, but Link seems to DISLIKE them, too! Sidon is embarrassed, and he deflates from the realization that Link doesn't like the prince. Sidon refuses to look at Link as he tells Link half the truth, that he wanted to be Link's... FRIEND. That he thought Link wouldn't want to be with... well FRIENDS with... a Zora. Link pauses, as he KNOWS that Sidon knows about he and Mipha's friendship, so something STILL feels off. It isn't until he notices Sidon's blushing that he understands what is truly being said.

After Link makes sure Sidon looks into his eyes, Link reassures Sidon that the things he likes about Sidon are what are truly him. His heroic grin, his playful tail wags. His champion-like swimming abilities. That Link enjoys Sidon. That he wants to SEE Sidon... all of him. Quickly, though, after Sidon lets out a flustered wheeze, Link realizes how his words came across, stating he just meant for Sidon to take off the pants! Sidon wheezes louder. Link gets more embarrassed and tries to explain he just meant Zora don't wear pants, so he'd want to see Sidon without-

It's great. They're great. They're trying.

It takes a bit more time after this convo, cause clearly the two are terrible with communication, but they reveal their romantic interests.

And they burn that infamous pair of pants.

#sidlink #sidlink hc #sidlink headcannon #I had my morning coffee I'm sorry #I just imagined insecure Sidon #and how silly it would look to have Sidon acting Hylian #even though he is a literal shark #with a dump truck #like where did he get the pants #also I know damn well Sidon would still try to hide his smile a few times after this. Cause of habit #but Link would catch his face before he hides the smile #so he can kiss his toothy grin #making Sidon wag his tail so hard it smacks Link #and Muzu thinks that the black eye Link has means they fought #and Muzu is happy #and tells Dorephan the “good” news #but Muzu doesn't realize they're hella gay #Muzu is a hater #muzu only supports gay wrongs and not gay rights

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57sfinest · 1 year

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kim is such a funny little guy like he emphasizes how little the rcm salary is when you ask about it (5500 reál annually- 460/mo) but here he is with his nice electronic sports watch and his little instant camera and his fancy revolutionary cosplay for plainclothes and he's living in the GRIH which can't be cheap and he's got his fancy little mnemotechnique notebooks which are like the moleskine of elysium i guess and his fancy little ballpoints that he does NOT want to share with you which i bet is because they cost him like a week of salary. and this is the rcm he's not getting stipends for supplies or watches or housing or probably even the gas for the kineema. poor as fuck but he is going to buy himself his little treats god damn it. if he lived in our world you know he'd be out getting himself a $9 vanilla soy milk half caf dirty chai iced latte every morning on the way to the station and eating instant noodles every night to claw out room in the budget for it

#'kim is a black coffee kind of guy' false he drinks black coffee at work solely for appearance #given the choice he's like the typical iced latte extra caramel sauce 27 pumps of vanilla and whipped cream type of girlie #he won't admit it though. so he drinks it black at work. with one (1) sugar if he's feeling zesty #kim buying himself extremely nice and overpriced notebooks every couple weeks justifying it with 'it's for work'#he will justify any purchase to himself with 'it's for work' wherever possible #which results in insane feats of mental gymnastics. and yes that would include the $9 soy chai lattes #harry is broke bevause he spends r400 a month on booze.#kims budget is r110 kineema gas and mods r150 stationery r150 rent r20 pen ink refills r20 tailoring supplies and r10 food & misc #creature of pride indeed. love you kim #kiwipost #kk meta #kim kitsuragi #harry makes fun of the expensive pens until he writes with one then hes like no yeah this is a nice pen. im sorry for ever doubting you #actually even better if harry thinks its shitty. he'd prefer the cheap dollar store bulk pack 50c plastic ones #kim gets really defensive of his pens too. unreasonably defensive. personal insults may or may not be slung at this point #kim is sooo funny yes sir you are so so normal average sane mundane usual orthodox plain unremarkable spoilsport etc. whatever you say babe

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lulublack90 · 7 days

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Prompt 24 - Modern AU

@wolfstarmicrofic April 23, word count 937

Sirius gripped his coffee as though it were a lifeline. It was the biggest, strongest coffee he could find, watered down with copious amounts of milk. He took little sips as he logged into his computer at work, brought up his list of tasks for the day and slowly began muddling his way through.

He’d gone out last night with James, against his better judgement, not that it took much persuasion on James’s part. All he had to do was bat his hazels at him, and Sirius was putty in his hands.

He’d been having a great time, downing drinks, shaking his arse to the vintage jukebox and then woken up in some fit lad’s bed, hence the massive coffee and the mind-numbing hangover. He’d crept quietly out of the little flat and stumbled his way down the harsh concrete steps that smelled like weed, piss and, for some bizarre reason, hairspray. Sirius had rushed home, hopped in the shower, changed his clothes and hurried to the coffee shop on the corner. He couldn’t even remember the man’s name. He put it out of his mind, reasoning that he’d never see him again anyway.

It took an age for the little digital clock on his computer screen to blink to 12:00 and signal lunchtime.

Feeling the need for greasy food, he went to pull out his mobile to order a McDonald’s when he realised he didn’t have it. He checked all his pockets and his bag. It wasn’t there. The panic had just set in that it had been stolen at the bar last night when his computer alerted him to a new email on his personal account.

‘Hi, erm, I guess Sirius. Sorry, I didn’t get your name last night 😬.

So anyway, I have your phone. You must have left it here when you snuck out this morning. (You are not sneaky, by the way! Like an elephant in size nines!) But yeah, anytime you want to come by and get it is fine. I’ll be in all day. Crap, I hope you get this email, or I’ve just got myself a new phone. It’s actually a big upgrade to mine. On second thoughts, it’s mine now, mwahaha 😈!

Thanks

Remus Lupin.’

Sirius stared at the words for a few minutes, taking them in, before picking up the work phone from his desk and phoning himself.

“Hello?” A voice on the other end answered. “Hi, I’m not Sirius. He left his phone at mine last night.”

“Hi, Remus. It’s me. Sirius.” He added in case he hadn’t realised.

Well, I guessed when you used my name. I highly doubt anyone in your phone book knows who I am. Especially ginger toss pot number 1. There’s more than one ginger toss pot?” Remus snickered.

“Wait, how do you know that, and how did you get my email address? Have you hacked into my phone?!” He felt outraged. How had he even gotten in, though? It was password-protected.

“Sirius, 6969 is not a strong password. Plus, I could see where you’d jabbed at the screen to unlock it. You really need to clean your phone.” Remus went on.

“Yeah, I’ll get right on that.” He paused for a second, trying to rein in the snarkiness. “I don’t finish work until 5. Is it alright to come over after that?”

“Sure,” Remus answered. “I’ll be in.”

“Great, thanks.” Sirius forced a smile on his face so Remus could hear his sincerity.

“Who’s Specky Dick Nuts? Because they’ve been blowing up your phone all morning before I woke up and found it. They seem to have stopped now, though.”

“Oh, that’s my best mate James. Oh shit, if he’s gone quiet, he’s probably tracking my phone. Er, be prepared. He probably thinks I need rescuing.” There was a loud thudding on the other end of the line.

“Er, I think your friend might be here,” Remus whispered into the phone.

“Put me on speaker so I can talk to him.” He heard the faint click as he was put on speaker and the sound of Remus unlocking the four locks on his door.

“Hi, you must be James,” Remus said.

“Where is he?!” James’s voice was stern and full of concern.

“James, mate. I’m fine. I’m at work. I just forgot to pick up my phone this morning. This is Remus, by the way. He kindly let me know he had it.” He prayed that was enough to call off the Potter inquisition.

“Oh, cool. Hi, Remus.”

“Hi, James.”

“Sorry, I thought you were some lunatic. And you were keeping him prisoner.”

“Oh, don’t worry. Happens all the time.” The phone line was filled with laughter, and Sirius had to hold his receiver away from his head.

“Hey, James, can you take my phone, seeing as you’re there?”

“Sure thing.”

“Thanks, Remus.” He managed to say before James hung him up. He felt oddly dejected for some reason but brushed it off.

When he came back from lunch, he found a new email, this time from Remus’s actual address.

‘Can I take you out on a date?’

It said. Sirius felt a surge of joy and so replied.

‘What do you have in mind?’

‘Dinner? Movie? Massive shagathon?’