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chalterdh22 · 7 months

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Day 8: Din Djarin in Truth augtickletober2023

Lee: Din Djarin/Mando

Ler: Y/N

Summary: After getting hurt, again, Din is trying to help you while you recover. He doesn’t know what tickling is and is intrigued. You have nothing better going on, so you show him. Will he like it though?

Warnings: This is a tickle fic, so if that’s not your thing, don’t read. Mostly fluffy.

Ugh, I came hobbling into the Razor Crest ahead of Mando and the kid. Of course, I sprained my ankle, again. I swear….. I sat down on a bench, pulled up a crate and propped my booted foot on top of it. Leaning my back against the wall, I just sat there, looking up at the ceiling, shaking my head.

All of a sudden, I heard a loud commotion and the door started to open. Din was running in, shutting the ramp and had Grogu in his arms. “Here. We have to go!” He said forcefully, handing me the kid, who was fast asleep. I noticed he had holes in his pants, blood stained, but it didn’t look like he was hurting. Grogu probably healed him, I was thinking. “Hang on!” He yelled from up front, since I wasn’t in a chair when the ship started to take off, I grabbed a pipe against the wall to sturdy myself as we shot off.

Once it seemed we were safe flying distance, Din walked back, picked up Grogu and put him in his cot to rest. As he came back to me, he sat down next to me and let out a huge sigh. “What happened? I thought you were going to just go get coordinates?”

“Things didn’t go as planned.”

“I can see that,” touching a hole in his pant leg, where there was no mark. “At least you had the kid to heal you. I’m gonna be hobbling on this stupid foot for a while.

He looked down at my propped-up leg. “What happened to your leg?” he asked genuinely concerned.

“Sprained it, again. I just need to keep it up and iced. Can you grab me a pack please?” He stood up to grab it as I pulled off my boot and sock. It was swollen already, but nothing a few days won’t fix. Still, what a pain. He brought back the pack, kneeled down next to my foot and softly placed it on my ankle. “Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. It looks swollen.”

“It is, a little, but I’ll have to wait to see how bad it actually is. I heard a pop and I got a cramp in my arch, but that doesn’t look swollen or colored yet.”

He looked around at my foot, like he was trying to see what I was talking about. I pointed to my arch, dragging my finger on it and sat back again. He took his gloved index finger and touched it, dragging it softly like I did and my whole leg jumped and I let out a small gasp. “I’m sorry!” he said quickly withdrawing his hand. “Did that hurt?”

“Uh, no, not exactly. It just tickled.”

He looked at me blankly and didn’t say anything. It was silent and I was sitting there trying to figure out what was going on in his head. “What?” I asked bluntly.

“I don’t know what you mean. Does that mean hurt too?” Now I was just staring at him, confused. Are you kidding me, I was thinking? You’ve never been tickled, seen it or heard of that word?

“Are you serious?” I asked with a grin on my face.

“I just have never heard of that word. What does it mean?”

“Um, I’m not sure I can put it into words exactly.” I sat there and tried to think about it. “So, there are parts of your body that are more sensitive than others. It gives you a squirmy feeling.” He was still staring not saying anything.

I’m doing a horrible job explaining this. I pulled in my hurt foot and crossed it over my lap. “See, my foot, when you touched it, sent a feeling through my body because it’s sensitive.” I scratched that area again. He was looking down at it.

“Why didn’t you jump when you did it. Why did you jump when I touched you?”

I laughed. “You can’t tickle yourself! Do you want to know what it feels like? It doesn’t hurt, I promise. Sometimes it feels nice.”

He stood up abruptly and started walking away. “I need to shower and change.” That was weird. I wonder if I scared him off. I sighed and hobbled back to an actual chair, leaned back and propped my foot back up with the ice pack.

I must have started to doze, because Din came back in and sat on a chair next to me and startled me. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you.” I looked over and realized he was only wearing his flak suit, and helmet. No armor or boots. I just sat there looking at him, like what the kriff are you doing. “Where’s your gear?”

“I, uh, kind of want to see what you are talking about.” he said softly. This was huge in our relationship. We definitely weren’t a couple or anything like that, more like co-workers, but we trusted each other immensely. Still, even so, he has NEVER not had his armor on around me!

“Really?” I paused, turned in the chair to face him and took his hands in mine. “So, remember how I said you can’t tickle yourself?” He nodded. “I want to show you what I mean.”

“Ok,” he said, still not moving a muscle. He seemed tense and maybe a little nervous. I was trying to think of a good place to show him that most people would find ticklish. I took my hand and squeezed my own thigh, just right above my knee. “See what I’m doing to my leg? Do the same to yours.” He complied and gave it a few squeezes, with obviously no reaction.

“Ok, so we are going to unveil the truth about Din Djarin!” I had a huge smile on my face. I reached over to the same thigh and gave it a good squeeze. He jumped out of the seat and took a step back like he just sat on fire. “Whoa! I guess we found out our answer.”

“What was that?” He asked with a small, shaky voice, one that I’ve never heard before.

“I tickled you! That was your bodies’ response to me grabbing your leg! Do you want to try again?” Please say yes, I was thinking.

He slowly sat back down and nodded.

“Do you want the same spot or someplace different?” He looked down at his body like he was thinking about it.

“Someplace different.” I nodded and reached quickly to his hips before he could say anything else. This time though, I grabbed stern and pulled down so he couldn’t jump away. I was standing over him at this point, leaning on my good leg. He was tittering out small noises but seemed to gain control quickly so my hands shot up on his ribs and he fell off the chair on his back and started laughing. “Waaait! Sttttoooopppp!” He kept trying to move my hands but was curling up in a ball and didn’t have his normal strength because of his laughing, plus I’m sure he didn’t want to hurt me.

“Oh no. You wanted to know so I’m revealing the truth right now!!!” Just as I finished my sentence, my hands quickly went into his arm pits, and I squeezed. He looked like he was having a seizure at that point. He was laughing, I was laughing and neither one of us could really speak.

“Puuuuhleeease, stttoooppp! Ahhh!” He finally rolled away from me and stopped, laying on his back, panting hard. I sat down and was breathing hard too from laughing.

“That was awesome!” I couldn’t wipe the smile off my face if someone paid me. “Oh man, I think you just found a new torture method! Don’t tell anyone!!!”

He finally sat up, his chest still moving up and down hard. “Why would anyone do that?”

“Because it’s hilarious!” I laughed. He was shaking his head, his legs sticking straight out in front of him.

I lunged quickly, grabbing one leg, rolling on it, effectively pinning it down and started mercifully tickling his foot. He let out a low scream, trying to turn over. “Stop, stop it!” He laughed.

Then he kicked me hard in the back. “Ow!” I yelled, letting him go. “That hurt!” He now had his legs pulled up against his chest, like he didn’t know what to do next. “Fine, I’ll stop. I just wanted to see it all.”

He got up and reached out his hand to help me up as well. “You were a good sport, Din. And now you know!” He nodded as I started to hobble away from him to sit back down. He grabbed my arm, to turn me slightly.

“So, next time I’ll have to practice on you then.” He chuckled under his helmet and started walking away. My mouth was open as I stood there. Was he kidding? “Don’t worry. I’ll wait until your ankle feels better.” he yelled back as he was still walking. Nope, not kidding!

#pedro pascal #grogu #star wars #the mandalorian #mandalorian and grogu #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #grogu djarin #mando #tickle scenarios #augtickletober2023 #tickletober #tickle fluff #tickle content #tickle fic

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hinderr · 7 months

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Dragons?? Dragons!!

#the mandalorian #grogu djarin #din djarin #me when put them in scenarios #hinderr art

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is-that-sand-in-my-waffles · 1 year

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Grogu: "DANK FERRIK"

Din (has been swearing in front of his son since day one):

#Din djarin #Grogu djarin #The mandalorian #While I fully endorse Grogu's first word being Dad or Buir this is the funniest possible scenario #star wars #Din you brought this upon yourself

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tomblythsslut · 1 year

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Lookie what I found!! Din djarin fanfic writers please consider

#din djarin smut #din djarin #fanfic #writer stuff #scenarios

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pettyprocrastination · 2 years

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alright class question of the day: do i go OC or din djarin for this wip?? I can’t figure it out

#din djarin would be fun cause itd be a total scenario change of what we usually see him in but also idk if the characterization would fit #so i could do an oc but also i think it'dbe neat to have din in this au but idk if it would dance the line of not being proper characterizat #because thats one thing i try and do my best at is keep the characters core semi accurate even in aus #so uh. help

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ddejavvu · 1 year

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okay din djarin request! what about din being reader’s first kiss? with shy-ish reader maybe? he acts tough but I just know he’s a huge softie for shy!r

Technically, it might be a little unfair to sneak up on Din after his shower. Your feet graze slowly, carefully, over dirt and rocks, planting themselves in areas that will cut up the soles of your shoes the least. Then they hit tile, and you know you're approaching the showers. It's hard navigating with your eyes closed, but you'd rather ram into a wall than compromise Din's way of life.

Fortunately for you, you don't ram into a wall. You hear the sound of water being rung from a cloth, then a dry towel grating through Din's hair. God, you wonder, what color is his hair? What does it look like? Is it long? Is it short? Is it-

"Y/N?" You hear, Din's voice much less tinny without the helmet on. It's still deep, rough, though, and it sends a shiver up your spine. You startle, and you nearly drop your hands from over your eyes, but you catch yourself.

"You can't be here," Din scolds, already scrambling for his helmet, "I- You can't see me, not like this."

"My eyes are covered," You promise, and you hear him still, then shift, probably turning to face you.

"Did you need something?" Din asks, slightly less tense this time. It's still there, and you wish you could see the accompanying look on his face. Is it stern? Is it curious? Is it pretty? You bet it's pretty.

"I.." Now that you're here, you don't know what to say. You take a deep breath, pressing your hands further over your eyes, "I like you, Din."

He's silent; deathly so.

"And- I think you like me, too," Now you're glad you can't see his face, and you try to hide more of yours like you'll simply disappear, "And if I'm right... I want you to kiss me."

There's more silence, and you blabber to fill it: "I've never been kissed before. And I want you to do it, I- I want you to be my first."

"But if you don't want to," You feel pathetic now, shoulders sagging, lips trembling ever so slightly, "I guess I'll-"

"Stop." You hear, Din's voice suddenly inches away from you. You gasp, and your breath holds stiff in your chest.

A hand slides over your own, gentle in pressure but rough in texture. Din's hand keeps your hands pressed to your eyes, and his other comes to ghost against the underside of your chin.

It's better than you could have ever imagined. He tilts your chin up, soft and sweet, and his lips press against you hesitantly. You've never seen Din as anything but confident and stony, now you're sure if you opened your eyes and tore your hands away from your face you'd see a loverboy staring back at you. His lips are soft, but there's a mustache prickling against your skin. His kiss is such a sweet juxtaposition from his sleek armor, the beskar plating that you've dozed off against countless times since meeting and travelling with the Mandalorian.

He barely puts pressure there, he gives you just a taste. All he does is lock your lips, and hold it there. It lets you soak him in, and you hope he can feel the giddy adoration that you're pumping into the embrace.

Then, just as gently as he'd kissed you, he breaks away.

Cold air rushes to hit your lips, a chilling contrast from Din's warm, soft ones. He's still lingering by your face, you feel his breath on your skin, but he lets his hand slowly fall away from your own.

"Don't open your eyes," He warns, voice impossibly soothing and husky, "I want you to put my helmet on."

"Okay," You stammer, pressing your hands more flush to your face as his footsteps recede. Then you hear the scrape of metal on stone, and he pulls at your hands with a bare one of his own.

"Keep your eyes closed," He reminds you, "You need both hands."

"Okay," You nod, letting him peel your hands away from your eyes, though you keep them squeezed tightly shut.

"Feel it?" He asks, slipping his helmet between your hands. You nod, fingers tracing the curves you've only explored with your eyes before now.

"Reach up," He tells you, pushing your elbow. You do as you're told, and he takes hold of your forearms to guide the helmet over his head.

Lowering it feels like hell. You feel like he's slipping away from you, like whatever connection you'd had will disappear with his lips. But his hands stay on your arms even after you secure the helmet on his head, and he takes your face in his hands.

Gently he thumbs at your eyelids, voice once more filtered through his helmet, "You can open your eyes now."

A familiar sleek design greets you when your eyes open, albeit a blurry one from how hard you'd been squeezing them shut. Your eyes linger on the horizontal stripe, where you know his eyes are beneath the helmet, wishing you could gaze into them and see his soul through them.

All you can do is lean forwards again, pressing a soft kiss to the cold beskar, where his cheek would be. He keeps his hands on your face, but he lets you pucker your lips against his helmet, and you hope that he's blushing beneath the metal armor.

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pedropascallme · 1 year

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Stupid For You

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!Reader

Summary: “‘What do you think, kid? Do I sound like your dad?’”

Warnings: Use of gendered titles (“wife” and “mother”) but otherwise just longing and a little fluff?

AN: Read part two here

Soundtrack: Stupid For You by Waterparks

“I could bring you in warm…or I could bring you in cold…” You hopped around in Din’s old chest plate, doing your best impression of the Mandalorian as Grogu watched on, gurgling happily and reaching up for you.

“What do you think, kid? Do I sound like your dad?” You picked him up, cradling him in your arms as he continued to babble nonsense. You had finally figured out, after days of being unable to stop him from crying, that all the baby really wanted was his father. It had been an accident that you had found out, really; it just happened that Grogu had gotten himself stuck in an old pauldron, and it just happened that you really wanted to try on some of the armor for yourself, and it just happened that you had to bring the kid everywhere with you—otherwise you would end up in a ship piloted by a wild-child who enjoyed tearing apart anything he could reach with his tiny baby hands.

Din had been gone, what, four days now? Not too bad. He had been gone longer before. He often returned to the ship after a little over a week, battered and bruised, and all you had to do was make sure his son was fed and happy. You were essentially just a glorified babysitter, although sometimes you liked to think of yourself as a sort of makeshift mother; you really did love the kid. Still, the longer you spent on the Crest, the longer you cared for the child, the longer you spent time with Din, growing increasingly fond of the few words you shared with each other (including a few in what you assumed was Mando’a that you couldn’t understand. What in the fresh hell was a “mesh’la”?) you couldn’t help but…miss him?

It was stupid. You were stupid. You knew his given name, and you knew he was a Mandalorian, and you knew his freak baby was capable of a little too much. Everything else was more or less a mystery to you. He seemed to like it that way, and you weren’t really in any position to change it at all. Making any move he was uncomfortable with could result in losing your job, the one true connection to anybody else that you had. Maker, you had seen what Din could do; worst case scenario you’d end up in carbonite. And, really, what would the galaxy’s scariest bounty hunter want with a wife? Not that you were thinking that far in advance, but weren’t you?

Stupid.

The child yawned, big eyes drooping slightly as you walked him to his floating bassinet. He continued to try to keep conversation with you, small patu noises here and there.

“I hear ya,” you placed him down, “but how about we continue this conversation at a later date?” He squawked and you put your hands on your hips, jutting out your knee in an attempt to properly emulate Din. Grogu made a sound that seemed like a laugh, eyes closing slowly as he tried to fight off his drowsiness.

“This is The Way.” You whispered to him, still trying to bring him peace of mind by pretending. You could feel that he missed his dad—guardian—whatever—every time Din went out during these long periods. And, hey, pretending to be as fearless and powerful as Din was fun for you, too. It kept you and the baby from going stir-crazy. It made you both feel a little safer when you put on the old, beat-up armor and acted like you were an unstoppable Mandalorian. Grogu’s breathing settled into a soft rhythm, signifying that he had lost his battle with sleep. You closed the top of his crib, turning on your heel.

“Is that what I sound like?”

You stopped in your tracks.

Din stood before you, still as a statue.

“W—I just—”

“I think my voice is deeper.” He walked forward, only taking a few strides before he was directly in front of you.

“You have a modulator.” You tried your best to avoid his gaze, heat blooming in your cheeks as you had been caught in the act of imitating—mocking—your boss. Your caretaker. Roommate? Boss.

“Mm.” He stood still before reaching his arm out in front of him, a gloved hand making contact with the chest plate you were wearing. He wrapped his knuckles against it, and you felt the vibrations of the metal over your chest. You could feel your heart in your throat. He was back, without any warning, without so much as a hello, and now he was standing before you, this beautiful man without a face, making what must have been the first purposeful physical contact you two had ever had.

“Where did you find this?”

“The-the kid found it. Kept rummaging through your, uh, wardrobe…” You trailed off, unsure if that was the correct word to use for the tiny storage space on the ship that Din had the habit of throwing spare capes and old clothes in. “He likes when I wear it.” You tried to sound like you weren’t pushing down the feeling of intense humiliation.

“You’d make a good Mandalorian.” Din dropped his hand. “It looks good on you, cyare.”

He stayed in front of you for a few moments, peering through his visor and examining you. After a few moments, he turned, walking away and up to the cockpit.

You stood where he had left you, raising a hand to where he had touched the armor you wore.

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

You're playing ring around my head I wear you like a halo You're a symphony, I'm just a sour note

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfic #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian x you

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thegreatwicked · 27 days

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This obviously needed its own post and here it is, a collection of blog posts and resources I have found and used for my own writing, I hope they help you too! Go forth and write that spice!

The Smut Writers Dictionary By @maybeeatspaghetti Seriously, how many different way are there to write cock? Does anyone else wonder if they've used the word 'lips' too many times? Well, this is a good place to start!

The Ultimate Guide to Writing Smut This is the first one I found and I go back to it frequently! There's also some great information about specific areas of sex that may not be common knowledge for first time writers!

How to Write Smut By @urfriendlywriter Another great source of information from different verbiage to use and a few tips to hel you along (giggity)

Smut Thesaurus By @prurientpuddlejumper just what it sounds like and you can never have too many words at your disposal.

6 Steps to Writing Better Sex By @chaoschaoswriting If you're at a loss or just want some more help this is antoher fantastic blog!

Writing Prompts NSFW By @seidenbros Need some dialogue? Or a story idea? Have a look!

#100 NSFW/Smut Dialogue Prompts By @a-cure-for-writers-block More? More. This is also a fantastic writing blog with lots to offer!

Intimate + Sexual Headcannon Questions By @petalsprompts Good questions to ask your characters to get to know them better and make more well rounded characters!

Smut & Mature (18+) Master List By @pendarling A great list dialogue prompts, scenarios, and helpful bits!

Poly NSFW Alphabet By @smaoineamhsalach Another great way to get to know your characters and maybe a handful of ideas for story ideas.

Kink Prompts Another from the previous blogger above and I didn't know what half of these are! I'll work on a kink dictionary next!

Writing Smut 101: Overcoming Smut Shame @slightlyrebelliouswriter23 There's a lot to be said for this particular subject! It's hard to write stuff like this, so how do you get over it? Start here!

How to Write a Kiss Scene By @youneedsomeprompts Yes!!! I still struggle with this one! There's a thousand ways to kiss, find your favorite!

Smut Oneliners By @deity-prompts you can never have enough one-liners!!

How to Write a (Great) Sex Scene Another great article for new smut writers

9 Tips for Writing Steamy Scenes More tips to help you wirte good steamy stuff!

How to Write Erotica and a Damn Fine Sex Scene A WEALTH if information on writing, structuring, and helpful tips!

@saradikahas a fantatic blog with graphics for you to use to add some fun to your posts. Things like MDNI Banners, 18+ Content Warnings, Support Your Favorite Writers and Reblog banners! They are free to use but she does ask that you reblog her stuff if you do! She's also a very talented writer and she writes some AMAZING Din Djarin stories!

Gay Sex Positions Guide This is a WONDERFUL adition and thank you so much @b7bubby for bringing this to my attention, I didn't have any resources for writing M/M fairings but this is a much needed addition to the spicy community! i've never written an M/M pairing and I feel like such an idiot for overlooking the need for a resource like this!

If you find any other great smut writing resources feel free to tag me so I can add them to this list! Good luck with your writing! Now go write that story and LET THE SPICE FLOW!!!!

#writing resources #smut writing #smut writing prompts #smut resources #i need more smut in my life #smut #smut writing resources

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dameronology · 1 year

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how about what would happen if the star wars boys made you cry 👀

ok i kinda did this in the scenario that you're arguing and they make you cry

characters: din, poe, finn, han, luke & obi-wan

din djarin

he is HORRIFIED the minute tears spring from your eyes

maybe you're fighting, maybe he got stressed and said something in the heat of moment, whatever it is, he's immediately forgotten about what he was mad about and he's by your side, floods of apologies coming from his mouth and gloved hands taking yours

he just kinda pulls you into his chest and holds you for a moment and my GOD he wants the world to swallow him up because he loves you more than anything in the world and he normally hates whoever makes you cry but right now it's him

truth is, you know din and you know that he would never do anything to intentionally hurt you so as far as apologies go, it's one you accept pretty quickly

he's gonna apologise for like a week after that

even if it becomes annoying

poe dameron

poe just sort of freezes and has this "oh fuck" look on his face

"oh god, don't cry. please don't cry. did i make you cry? oh my god. i made you cry."

and then he probably starts crying too

because he always wants to cry when you cry but the fact that he's the one responsible for it? woo boy

he swallows it down though and doesn't let you see because he doesn't want to seem like he's taking away from what he's done

his immediate reaction is to want to hug you, but he waits for a moment to see if you'll let him because he doesn't know if you're gonna swing at him tbh

if you let him, he holds you fucking tight. he doesn't apologise then and there, though, not until things have calmed down - normally a few moments later - that he says sorry and you know it's from the bottom of his heart

he goes out his way over the next few days to make it up to you; flowers, dinner, a romantic trip to a distant planet, but above all, he makes an active effort to never let it happen again

and that's what matters most

finn

honestly finn looks like a kicked puppy

because he tries so hard to never argue with you or get mad EXACTLY FOR THIS REASON and he has failed in his attempts and oh lord he wants to die

he doesn't jump immediately to apologising, mostly because he wants you to say what you need to say and he doesn't want to talk over you

and he listens!! he wants to know what he did and what he said so that it never happens again

then he apologises, and it's always straight to the point but still eloquent and meaningful

finn isn't gonna be the kinda guy who apologises for days (oh, din) or goes out his way to shower you in sorry gifts (ah, poe) because mostly he just wants to move on from it and get back to a good place with you but it's like...not in a way that he forgets about it??

it's more of a thing that he hates things being off with you. like it literally kills him inside. so he encourages you to both move forward and get back to the good stuff.

but he also makes it clear that he has learnt from it

han solo

han literally doesn't know what to do. he can barely handle people crying at the best of times but when a) it's you and b) you're crying because of him?

his immediate reaction is to run, because it's han and he always wants to peg it away from every single issue but his chest hurts at the idea and it hurts even more when he knows he's the bastard that made you cry

he just goes silent and is kinda 🧍‍♂️for a second because his brain is computing but then he realises that he does know what to do when you cry and that's attack the thing that upset you

then he realises that he can't do that and goes "well i can't fucking blast myself, so i don't really know what to do right now" and it's stupid and dumb and oh my god han read the fucking room but at least it breaks the ice a little bit and you smile

because, despite everything and despite han being...well, han, you know he's trying his best and the fact he's even still in front of you is actually something of a miracle

that's your cue to rip into him, by the way, because even if you're crying it is canon that the only way to get han solo to listen to you is to tear him a new one (or three) so he will stand there and take the bollocking

after that, he apologises. han isn't good with words so it's a little bit spacey and awkward but the intent is there

but he also makes it abundantly clear that he never means to hurt you and you know, from the bottom of his heart, that he means it

luke skywalker

luke literally stops in his tracks and he's holding you immediately and going "i didn't mean that, i really didn't mean that, please don't hate me"

literally his entire facade his gone - the stubbornness, whatever he's arguing about - just disappears and he realises immediately that none of it is worth making you cry

so the man is literally holding you before your tears even start and he's already apologising over and over

he does want to listen to you though and hear what you have to say, so he's all ears

tbh, it's hard to stay angry at luke for long because you know he's completely pure intentioned and good hearted but you can absolutely opt to give him the silent treatment or take space for as long as you need and he will let you do it

after that, he buys you flowers and will make it up to you in every way he knows how

obi-wan kenobi

out of everyone on the list, obi-wan is the one who is the most shooketh to his core when he realises that he's made you cry

because he's so chivalrous and loving and might as well live to serve you so the idea that he's hurt you is quite possibly his greatest fear come true

his immediate reaction is to give you space. he'll apologise first and let you know that he's ready to talk whenever you are, simply because he doesn't want to overstep or push you to make up until you're ready

but as soon as you are, he's all ears and listening to everything you have to say

again - and i feel like i'm saying this for every character here lol - you know that he'd never hurt you intentionally and although that's the main, the proof is in the pudding when he actively listens to you and makes an effort to avoid it happening again

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kedsandtubesocks · 2 months

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cowboys like us

Bull Rider!Din Djarin x F!Reader x Bronco Rider!Jack Daniels

summary: one cowboy is already a challenge, but two is either going to be your best blessing or worst curse

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, modern rodeo cowboys AU, Din is still a papa and has his baby, light discussion of the rodeo and events, light angst & miscommunication with eventual resolution, Jack & his sweet talk with calling reader ‘baby, honey, sugar,” bar scene with moments of drinking, heavy making out, intense grinding & dry humping, spicy moments, M/M/F & M/M dynamics, polyamorous exploration that leads to eventual poly relationship

word count: 5.9k

a/n: welcome to the first fic of the ‘Let’s Rodeo’ series! I know, I know, this is such a strange combo & AU but I’m such a sucker for cowboy Din and of course Jack decided to barge in and here we are lol, the biggest and deepest thank you’s go to @perotovar @lowlights @nothoughtsjustmeds & @beskarandblasters - this wouldn’t be here without y’all and I’m so eternally grateful…and to you if you’re reading this thank you so much

You wonder if maybe you’ve unknowingly slipped into a strange country song and not realized it.

Popcorn litters the floor all around. The plastic arena seat is a bit uncomfortable. A drunk woman behind you almost spilled beer on you but apologized profusely. There are more cowboy hats here than you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

But as you sit in this strange existence a voice over the loudspeaker comes and sparks up your soul. As the announcer’s voice booms, loud screams swallow up the air of the stadium.

You spot him already climbing onto the bronco and your heart jumps into your throat.

“The man smooth as whiskey!” The announcer screams clear and booming with an accented southern pride.

“Give it up for Jack Daniels!”

Shrill shrieks erupt fanatically loud as if the place now morphes into a boy band concert instead of a rodeo competition.

That is until the alarm sounds. The chute opens, and the ride begins.

Focusing on Jack is chaotic. The bronco bucks frenzied trying to throw the cowboy off with a wild strength. His black Stetson hat goes flying and your stomach drops at how rapidly his body whips around. Back and forth, back and forth, he tries holding on with simply one hand.

It’s terrifying. It’s hypnotic.

Then it’s over fast.

The beautiful horse flings off Jack and he lands on the dirt. You clutch the edge of your plastic seat. The horse continues bucking and your mind rushes to the worst case scenario of the creature’s strong might rearing down on Jack.

Then the cowboy springs up like nothing.

A smile even illuminates his handsome face and it ignites the crowd into a gleeful roar.

You don’t even know if he did good. You barely understand the point system or average or whatever it is.

The horse thankfully settles and Jack struts away effortless.

Suddenly Jack’s salt of the earth eyes flick up. He scans the crowd until his gaze lands on you.

The seat you’re in sits close to the edge of the arena, on the floor just right outside the ring.

Then, with all the confidence of a man whose job it is to ride a bucking bronco, Jack blows you a kiss.

The drunk woman behind you along with her friends scream their heads off thinking he blew the kiss to them. Maybe he did. He’s a damn flirt. You even glance backward to see one of the girls, very drunk, tries to calm herself down from freaking out.

Jack now walks heads to the side to exit. His eyes however stay glued to you. And the minute you turn back to stare at him…he winks.

Then he vanishes.

This cowboy might be this event’s closer, but this isn’t the end of the rodeo for you. The incoming bull rides shift the air. It’s considered another heavy hitter main event and the anticipation bubbles.

Unlike Jack, who arrives like a firecracker ready to brighten up any room he enters, this cowboy emerges like a shadow.

Keeping his head down, it doesn’t help that a protective mask covers his handsome face. However, the energy radiating off the cowboy’s deadly focus composure is like a quiet storm on the horizon.

He stays silent, doesn’t even lift his eyes up, almost in a focused trance.

“Mr. Silent and Deadly himself… Din Djarin!” The announcers boom out his name.

Then you watch as the man becomes a myth, one who tames a wild force of nature.

Din and bull fly out of the chute with a choking force.

In the same way your breath stopped watching Jack getting bucked around, the same dizzying panic fills you as Din battles the same force.

He stubbornly stays on, rides as the bull thrashes around. You wonder if this is where some mythologies stem from because it is something unreal watching this man move with this powerful creature.

The crowd hoots and hollers cheering Din on. You stay petrified in your seat.

Then the ride finishes fast.

Din flies off the bull and your breathing stops. Rapidly the trainers along with other cowboys scramble to settle the bull and check on Din. The bull rider casually rises up unbothered, unshaken, and the crowd goes wild.

You exhale a loud shaken sigh of relief. Your body feels like jello, as if fear has finally been exorcized from your body leaving you a boneless mess.

Suddenly Din rips the guard mask off and all attention falls to him. Sweat adds a shine to his face and his hair is a tousled mess but he’s never looked more gorgeous.

“What the fuck?! Dude, he’s hot too?!” Someone squawks out.

The ladies sitting behind you of course notice Din and squeal out feverishly. Unlike Jack, an actual peacock who owns the crowd basking in the attention, Din’s face stays lowered with his eyes averted shyly.

Until his dark eyes suddenly flicker up, like a viper peering out from a cave. His eyes find you surprisingly fast.

You and him simply stare at each other. Then so quickly Din averts his eyes away again and heads off.

The shakiest exhale leaves you.

Your heartbeat drums loud in your ears as if you were the one who just finished the wild rides. And maybe you did in your own way.

“Oh my fucking god!” Behind you one of the girls screams. “So many hot cowboys! Like, how the fuck do you pick just one?!”

Alcohol drenches her playful words. However, to you they become barbed and catch on your heart. Because how do you pick between two handsome cowboys different as day and night.

“Babe!” One of the girls giggles. “That’s the secret, you don’t pick just one! You have ‘em all!”

She howls a wild laugh and the others scream scandalized but gleeful. One of them even jokingly says ‘so you gotta catch ‘em all like pokemon!’ which almost makes you laugh.

But the words hang in your heart like a rusting anchor.

Grabbing your bag, you head out. Arriving at the backstage area of the arena, you flash the visitor’s access pass to security who lets you through. You’ve only done this a few times before but your heart still races getting this type of entrance.

Earlier today Din said he’d wait for you after in the small rest waiting room. When you open the door, you stumble upon a sight.

Jack's hand firmly holding Din’s face -

As the two men passionately kiss each other.

Jack’s taller than Din, slightly, not by much. Din’s build however is firmer, solid, compared to Jack’s sleek stature.

Immediately they both break away from each other as if electrocuted.

Din and Jack’s eyes catch sight of you and their faces fall. Din whispers your name out while Jack stays silent.

Reality rams into you like a released wild bull.

Because you realize you’ve interrupted them. You're barging in, an actual third wheel.

You want to move, want to say something. But you can’t even imagine what. It clicks that you read this whole situation wrong. Maybe neither of them actually held feelings for you.

A sudden loud knock on the wall makes you and the cowboys practically jump.

One of the event announcers pops his head in casually.

“Hey sorry, but you’re needed out back Djarin.” He says to Din then leaves.

Even with the surprise arrival and then departure, the thick tension doesn’t leave the air. If anything it’s caused a strange vacuum to form.

Jack now breathes out your name hesitantly. Yet, his eyebrows are furrowed hard, concerned and upset. Din’s dark eyes shine so visibly soaked with worry.

Before you can even say anything one of Jack’s main coaches and manager, Champ, waltzes in. He’s a striking presence that draws all the focuses to him

Champ whistles loud. “Who died in here?”

No one says a word.

“Alrighty then,” Champ shrugs, not wanting to dive into whatever he senses.

“Daniels come on,” he urges. “I ain’t waiting anymore. They’re probably waiting for you too Dinny.”

Champ’s nickname for Din, which Din himself detests, makes you smirk and brightens your spirit for a moment.

But the awful tension stays sticking to your skin allowing a poison to seep in.

“Hey there, sweet pea.” Champ nods his head acknowledging you. With a weak smile you nod back.

You politely excuse yourself and leave.

The walk out of the arena is the longest of your life.

Everything you just saw flashes through your mind a rapid flip picture book. You can process what you saw but can’t fully grasp it.

Even outside, the roar of the rodeo swirls around even in you.

You might have wandered into a country song earlier but you didn’t realize it was going to be a heartbreak one.

You met Din first in a grocery store parking lot.

It had been a total accident. Literally. You had gotten into a small fender bender with him in the parking lot of a grocery store.

He drove the oldest silver Honda Civic ever still existing and still can’t believe it didn’t even manage to take a hit. You were also horrified when you saw there was a baby sleeping away in the car.

Yet the entire time Din was so kind and concerned about your wellbeing.

You didn’t realize it then, but that shy and very handsome scruffy man with his ancient Honda Civic would change the orbit of your life.

Because that day you accidentally collided with a cowboy, it opened your world like a vast desert horizon.

Jack arrived soon after.

If Din was the soft daybreak, then Jack came in like a dust devil.

Though they competed in two different categories, you discovered many rodeo circuits crossed paths.

When you went to visit Din months ago at the ranch housing many of the cowboys for training, that’s when you first met Jack.

He walked straight up to you and asked if you were lost because he was concerned heaven was missing an angel.

He hasn’t shut his mouth since.

Before it was simply you and Din. But Jack is a force that seems to barge his way in like the wild broncos he rode.

He is shameless in flirting. He often playfully touches yours and Din’s cheeks often, or casually drapes himself over you or his fellow cowboy.

Din on the other hand is quietly sweet. He routinely sends you photos of the sunrises of all the cities he travels to.

So opposite, they almost are like the sun and moon.

You began caring for them fiercely and fell so fast.

But now, you contemplate if you simply played yourself a fool becoming your own rodeo clown.

All the ideas, all the heavy conflict of having to pick between the two of them, taste bitter on your tongue. You take a long swing of your drink to hopefully wash it away. It doesn’t.

Din texted you asking to please meet him here at this bar near the secondary training arena and now you wait.

It’s lively tonight. Even after being thrown into the world of cowboys, or rodeo circuits, sitting in the honky tonk bar feels as if you’re on another planet. The music thankfully has a nice beat so you enjoy the song playing.

Someone slides in besides you, not even sitting on the bar stool.

“You seem lonely.” The voice of a stranger.

Besides you, a lanky college freshman looking guy leans against the bar staring at you.

“Just waiting for a friend.” You politely answer.

“Well, maybe you’d like some company waiting?”

You’re about to decline when a looming presence arrives at your back.

“Sorry there buckaroo, but this lovely peach is taken for the night.”

Jack’s smooth voice rings out and shocks your system.

The stranger’s face drops comedically fast and the punk scrambles away without another word.

You turn around and it isn't just Jack behind you but Din is as well.

Jack wears his black cowboy hat and you’re surprised to see Din in one as well. He rarely wears his Stetson but it transforms him.

In typical western, the dark midnight cowboy hats are that of the outlaws, the bandits. One of Din’s managers, an older man named Cobb Vanth, once told you that.

And maybe these two are.

Yet, even as bandits, they stand before you like two country romance song dreams. The kaleidoscopic lights dance and radiate off them.

Din mutters your name with hesitation swirling in his eyes.

Panic prickles against your skin. You’re not ready yet.

So you turn to the bartender and order three rounds.

“Honeypie, we gotta talk.” Jack says low, strikingly somber.

Shaking your head, you swallow hard. “Not now. I just…can we just please…just wait for a moment.”

Please let’s just enjoy this false dream a little longer, is what your heart whispers out.

“Of course.” Din mutters and they both move to sit on either side of you, a sort of barricade you’re already missing.

The drinks come and in a nervous quiet move you and the cowboys cling your glasses together. Everyone tosses the shot back. The tequila burns and helps slightly.

You decide if this a goodbye to this dream, you want to at least enjoy it a bit tipsy. So you order another round.

“Careful.” Din urges, ever the cautious one.

“Come on.” You now perk up. “You two both scored high yesterday! We gotta celebrate.”

Which is true. Even with your brewing heartbreak, you still got excited seeing their scores from the app alert. Because that’s the person you’ve become. You have apps on your phone dedicated to rodeo cowboy scores. Well, you might be deleting those apps soon.

You move to take the next shot.

You raise your glass to your two dear cowboys - the ones who you text everyday, the ones you try facetiming as much as you can, your dearest friends.

And maybe that’s all they will be.

You toast to their scores and to them.

Din’s eyes hold a pained shine in them that makes your heart twist. Jack instead wears a rather terrifying steeled up composed face.

You feel empty taking this shot and only Jack throws his back with you. Din even doesn’t touch his drink.

This time the tequila goes down warm and numbing.

The alcohol begins to work its confidence magic in you as you tease Din for not wanting to drink with you. He however glares at you and you’re reminded of an unwavering mesquite tree.

Maybe this is a bad decision.

You can’t be selfish about this. These two found each other. All those moments you thought they had feelings you simply had read the situation wrong.

“Look,” you sigh now, deflated. “I’m sorry-”

Jack suddenly smacks his hand against the bar countertop. It’s aggressively firm, a loud startling whack of a noise.

“Dancin’.” Jack declares loudly. “We’re gonna dance.”

“What? You and him?” You ask over the music.

“No.” Jack snaps. “We’re all goin’. So get your asses up.”

Din scoffs.

Jack, with firm hands yanking on yours and Din’s sleeves, actually drags everyone to the dance floor.

You can’t comprehend what’s happening. The floor is heavily crowded and no one notices three more additions.

“I don’t dance.”

“I can’t dance.”

Both you and Din fling out the same hurried replies to Jack.

He barks a laugh.

“It ain’t about being good at dancin’. S’about feelin’ the music, feelin’ the beat.” He yells back and then instantly transforms into a commanding force.

Sliding behind you, Jack turns you around to face Din.

His and your eyes go wide.

Jack then reaches to yank at Din’s dusty jacket, effectively pulling him forward -

Straight to your front.

Your heart hammers loud in your ears, so loud it drowns out the music blaring.

“Relax.” Jack purrs out. “Just…feel.”

You want to bark back about how that’s easier said than done. But your tongue gets tied up so badly you can’t form words.

Then one of Jack’s solid hands moves to your hips while the other reaches across to rest against Din’s shoulder.

You’re locked into them.

Jack begins to move you slowly.

The music shifts into something sultry, almost aching to be a slow dance, but a lively beat keeps it moving. You didn’t even think country songs could have this kind of vibe. Even though Jack mainly guides your hips, you already start swaying to the beat on your own.

That’s when Jack slowly bumps and nudges his hip against yours, fully pressing you closer to Din.

The position isn’t lost on you. It’s undeniably intimate, overly sexual, and you’re worried how this looks to others in the bar.

Then Din presses forward firmer against you and your mind blanks for a moment. Now sandwiched between a cowboy canyon, a dangerous heat burst from your chest.

Jack moves his nose against your face.

“Relax gorgeous,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”

Your eyes hazing over flicker to Din who stares out with a deep desire swimming in his eyes. Cautiously his hands now move to rest on your hips. One of them goes on top of Jack’s.

You swallow hard and pray the lingering liquid courage will bless you.

Deliberately, sensually, your hips wiggle and grind between the two of them. You might not be properly dancing right or even swaying to the beat, but desire is the one guiding your body.

Many times nights alone in your bed you've thought of them like this with you. And now, you’re here caught in the sticky heart of that passionate desire.

Din dives forward and presses his face against yours.

Jack groans as his nose buries into your hair. Their cowboy hats create a sort of cover over you casting a shade against the glittering bar lights.

You’re literally under their shadow.

“Oh baby.” Jack whimpers.

Your hands, which you awkwardly kept close to your chest almost afraid to touch this dream and have it pop like a soap bubble, now tingle. You want to touch them both as much as you can.

So one of your hands slides up to hold onto Jack’s face while your other runs up Din’s broad chest to his shoulder. Your hips continue to sway and grind between them.

Then, like a spark ignited, something shifts.

Maybe it’s more people crowding in on the dance floor, or the heat finally bubbling over, but you’re suddenly squished firmly between them, practically glued together. Din’s face, his striking nose, presses against yours while Jack burrows the side of his face against your cheek.

They purposely rut into you. You think this is maybe the closest taste of what it would feel like for them to fuck you and you drown in it.

With Din and Jack, both hard, grinding against your front and back, your eyes close. A debauched sensation sinks its claws into you. It’s sinful and utterly deliriously delicious. You worry you’re about to melt.

Lust rips through you, an incinerating beast, and you bow to it.

In that haze, Din leans down and licks the sweat on your neck. His tongue against your skin, electrifies you. You ascend out of your body and moan.

Your body bucks up hard begging for attention and release only to find you’re still firmly caught between a cowboy canyon.

Jack shushes you firm but low. “G’damn y’all ‘re gonna be the death of me.”

His voice slurs, almost sounded drunk in something dangerous. Din continues licking at your neck not stopping once.

Suddenly Jack moves and shifts your body. The jostling breaks the movement and snaps you aware, like you’re slowly waking up, wearily trying to recapture your focus.

Quickly he snags your hand and Din’s. Out of reflex you clutch onto Din’s jacket. Jack, now a focused man on a mission, guides the three of you out of the crowd.

“Where are we going?” Din mutters against your face.

“Don’t know.” You answer truthfully.

You can’t tell where Jack guides you. The haze still fogging up your focus keeps you surprisingly pliant. It also doesn’t help that Din now practically drapes himself against your back, a protective cowboy like cloak. His lips continue to softly try and kiss any inch of skin he can reach.

You never thought he’d be the greedier one.

Jack guides everyone down a hallway past the restrooms. He even shouts a friendly greeting at someone. Of course he would know people here.

“Get your asses in here.” Jack now growls and his accent seems stronger.

That’s where he opens a door to a small back office type room and barrels everyone inside.

Jack’s not gentle. He almost yanks everyone in like a panicking kid trying to hide something from their parents. The door slams behind him. You’re transported into a badly lit mess of an office.

Jack whips around, pitches forward and before you can react he moves to attack your neck alongside Din.

His tongue licks a possessive strip up to your jaw then starts biting at your skin.

A wild moan escapes you as your eyes blissfully close.

You’re burning up. Your body, now molten, is only held up by your cowboys pressing flat against you. Both Jack’s mustache and Din’s faint beard scrape against your skin beautifully. Two tongues maping out your skin makes your mind evaporate. Every inch of your body screams for them.

That’s when you feel Jack drag his tongue on your neck down towards Din.

With another playful nip at your skin, Jack moves to lick against Din’s mouth still on you.

The wildest moan escapes you and you almost come right then.

Both cowboys almost kiss each other while also trying to still taste at your neck has you absolutely dizzy.

It’s hot and consumes every inch of you. You’re panting ridiculously loud and you can’t even hold back your whines or whimpers anymore. Slick pools between your thighs and sticks to your body. Your neck feels just as wet with the spit covering your skin.

Suddenly a loud aggressive bang rattles the door and your perfect illusion pops.

Panic barrels into you like a wild bull and your eyes go wide.

But your cowboys react fast. Din protectively curls his sturdy arm over you and draws you closer. Jack whips around and stands protectively in front as if to block the view.

Thankfully no one opens the door.

“Ya better not be fuckin’ on my god damn couch, Daniels!” A man howls with laughter.

“No fuckin’ way in hell.” Jack hollers back. “Not when your nasty ol’ ass calls its home.”

From the other side of the door the owner of this room laughs electrically loud. The man smacks on the door twice, an almost playfully goodbye.

The blazing heat that was melting you now simmers out like a fast dying out ember. An awkwardness settles in its place.

Your mind sorts through the heavy doubts again. Were you just a toy for them to play with? And even though a more aggressive side urges you to just enjoy and not think more into this, you don't want to be seen as just an accessory to their duo.

So slowly and quietly you untangle yourself from them.

Din mutters your name slightly confused and Jack turns around looking towards you.

“Where ya headin’ out to, peach?” Jack asks surprisingly composed.

You quietly tell them you’re gonna head home. A thick tension returns, choking the room.

Din calls your name, solid and striking.

“We need to talk.” His words are firm.

You want to make a sarcastic quip that they weren’t much for talking a few moments ago. But you don’t. You want to go home, maybe wash your skin off till you reach bone. You want to wash them away because it’s sinking in.

This last taste of desire is maybe your goodbye.

“Now why ya gotta make it sound like we’re talkin’ about a goddamn funeral, darlin’?!” Jack huffs annoyed.

Din shoots him a sharp annoyed look.

Darlin’

You’ve never heard Jack call his fellow cowboy that.

His nicknames for Din ranged from ‘pigeon’ to ‘sourpuss’ all were affectionately teasing in nature. Now the tender pet name holds the unspoken truth, as if seeing them kissing didn’t solidify it earlier.

“I’m sorry, I just…I read this wrong…” your voice becomes small and deflated. You would head home with a broken pride, but you didn’t want to be bitter about this.

Your eyes flicker up to them.

“You two… I’m glad you both found each other.” You smile weakly, the strongest attempt at being honorable and good. Yet the words turn to ash on your tongue.

You promise you’ll text them when you get home and now turn to leave again.

“The fuck s’that all about?” Jack snarls and his words snap your spine straight.

“Jack.” Din chides him sharp and your attention whips back to them a bit panicked.

Anger, along with the faintest edge of annoyance, colors Jack’s handsome face as he glares at you.

Your face scrunches up confused. What is he so upset about?

“The three of us were practically just humping like fuckin’ barn animals in heat and you wanna say shit like that?” A hot flash runs in Jack’s eye and you swear he even sounds hurt.

“Don’t say it like that.” Din glares.

Your eyes flicker between them and an edge of panic starts crawling on your skin.

“Wait, what?” You mutter out confused.

Silence suffocates the room and it feels like you’ve entered into a classic western standoff waiting to see who will strike first.

“Oh baby,” Jack’s gentle exhale shatters the moment as his eyes stare so directly at you. “Ya haven’t realized it?”

“What?” You squeak out confused.

“We’re crazy for ya… like a bunch of fools tangled up in a damn lasso.”

Jack’s words ignite a flurry of sparks within your chest that knock you breathless.

Turning towards Din, you notice his Stetson hat slid off, possibly during the heat of the moment earlier. But it allows you the clearest view of his gruff face and you think he’s never looked younger. His face is open. Hesitation and worry linger in Din’s dark road eyes reminding you of how secretly tender hearted this cowboy is.

Then Din nods so slowly, agreeing.

You almost choke on an inhale.

The sudden thought of picking between them has a fanged spike of anxiety rushing through you.

You didn’t want to pick. But, were you being selfish because of that?

Sensing your hesitation, or catching whatever emotions now flood your face, both cowboys now hesitantly move towards you.

“Talk to us, please.” Din softly urges.

Your voice cracks, tripping on itself annoyingly conflicted. But you manage to cough out that you don’t think you can pick between them. You don’t think you ever could and you’re worried your heart might not even handle it.

“Oh sweet baby,” Jack breathes out.

Suddenly the back of his hand tenderly strokes your cheek. Din gently glides his hand to your back and softly rubs you soothingly.

Your heart jumps into your throat at their sudden shift in affections.

“You don’t have to worry…or pick.” Din explains softly and with comfort.

Wait.

“You both…” you exhale shakily. “You two want me? Want us?”

For some reason, the notion of ‘us’ strikes you right then and there. That idea of you and them becoming an ‘us’ feels like the most natural progression in your mind.

Your best friend, when you told her about you and these cowboys, had cautiously asked if there was maybe a possibility of a poly type relationship happening. You immediately shot her down, not even wanting to think of the option.

But if you had been honest, a part of you started feeling guilty at the thought of wanting that. You enjoyed spending time with Jack just as much as Din. And you enjoyed spending time with them together.

Now you stand on the new ground of something beautiful waiting for you to step into.

“Sweetheart, hate to break it to ya…but we’ve been an us even before our dumbasses even realized it.” Jack snorts.

Din rolls his eyes and you snicker. But Jack is right.

Tentative date-like nights included Jack joining. Jack constantly invited both you and Din to his ridiculously lavish RV he used for the rodeo road trip days. That eventually led to days where you and Jack waited together for Din to finish. Or Din and you watching Jack practice. Din even began bringing his adoptive son over and Jack took to the baby like a fish to water.

This path you unknowingly had been on now is about to be crystalized before you and it warms every bit of your soul.

But a sharp fanged doubt suddenly gnaws at you.

“Wait,” your voice wavers. “This…this isn’t the alcohol talking right?”

Din sighs, shaking his head no but Jack answers first.

“‘Fraid not gorgeous. Been wanting this for a while.”

All worries get snipped and float out of your body leaving you so limitless.

Din leans to draw you into his side embrace and burrows his face against you.

“Sorry we didn’t discuss this sooner.” He mutters. “It all just…kind of happened.”

You understand and lean back against him. Din exhales shaky, soaked in a relief you can almost feel in your bones.

“Now, now, you two angels can’t go leavin’ out ‘ol Jack.” Of course Jack chimes in.

“Maybe it’s time we rethink this.” Din dryly comments and you laugh when Jack squawks out like a disgruntled crow.

But he effortlessly manages to borrow against both you and Din. It’s a little cluster, a soft clanging of bodies, but it’s cozy and feels right.

Someone yells outside the door laughing and your heart jumps.

“Whose office are we even in?” Din mutters out.

“Jimmy’s. Well technically mine too since I own the bar with him.” Jack casually drops.

Of course he did.

“And as cozy as it is here,” Jack adds gently. Both of their hands now intertwine against your hip.

“I say we move this little party somewhere nicer, like let’s say…my trailer?” Jack offers.

His RV is nice. Din’s is very spartan compared to Jack’s that had a full king sized bed and jacuzzi.

They truly are your sun and moon, so opposite and yet so beautifully brightening up your sky. A beautiful buoyant bliss fills you knowing you’re in their orbit, just as much as they’re in yours.

Din’s baby boy is a fidgety one. While he enjoys running around, he also loves to watch the world form anyone’s welcoming arms.

Which at the moment happens to be yours.

The baby chews happily on his favorite adorable stuffed longhorn plushie while the two of you enjoy the peace of the arena.

Without the noise, the yells and commotion of the crowd, or the sea of cowboy hats, the arena is strangely quiet, almost church-like in its own way. You understand now how it can even inspire a deep devotion.

After all, you see it through the eyes of two cowboys.

The baby happily shrieks and begins twisting in your arms. You turn to see what’s gotten his attention.

“Why howdy there my lil’ tumbleweed!” Jack warmly cries out and without hesitation scoops the sweet little boy into his arms.

The baby squeals in delight as Jack peppers him with kisses. Your heart melts at the sight.

“Don’t worry, didn’t forget about you too darlin’.” Jack winks and leans to kiss you soft now.

His mustache tickles your lips and you smirk. He also playfully and lightly smacks your bottom. You shoot him a look while Jack innocently shrugs.

“Our cowboy come out yet?” He asks.

You shake your head. Not yet. Din being ever the respectful man he is, allowed the others to use the practice bull first and took the last slot available for the practice times.

However, his team and the others arrive just as fast. Din steps out, the true silent assassin he’s regarded as. He’s memorizing to watch, so deeply focused and intense.

The baby now whines at being held and demands to be put down.

“Don’t worry I’ll watch him, you watch Din.” You reassure Jack while he places baby boy on his feet. The baby immediately waddles away, absolutely giddy to be free.

“Lil’ stinker.” Jack affectionately teases with adoration shining in his eyes.

Your eyes now watch the curious little babe you treasure so dearly. Behind you though, the training starts.

The clang of the chute being prepared and the commotion of the team getting ready fills the arena.

Then the alarm blares. The loud noise has the baby jolting in surprise. Before he can cry at the sudden noise, you quickly scurry over and swoop him back in your arms. You playfully press a loud raspberry against his sweet chubby cheeks and he giggles.

The noise of the ride erupts with the thrashing of the bull and the upheaval of the dirt.

Then, it’s all over.

“Attaboy!” Jack cries with a loud proud clap.

The baby, now fully distracted by the commotion, seems happy in your arms again as you approach Jack’s side.

Quickly your gaze goes to the arena to make sure Din’s alright.

“How did he do?” You ask about Din.

“Better! Still ain’t as good as yesterday's time but rides like these just help keep ya warm and flexible.” Jack explains.

With the bull settled, Din moves towards Vanth to discuss the ride.

Din draws his helmet up and already has so much sweat on his face. It’s unfair how handsome he is, rugged and adorably scruffy.

“Bweh!” The baby happily spots his papa and squeaks.

The noise causes all in the ring to turn towards where you three stand. Cobb Vanth grins kindly and Din’s eyes soften immediately spotting your little cheering group.

“Yeah lil cowpoke, you didn’t get to see how good your papa was, but he did great.” Jack coo’s as he softly smooths out the baby’s hair.

With a pat on the back from his manager, Din jogs over to you and Jack.

It’s unique, this new carved out existence of yours with them. But it’s beautiful and feels as if it’s always meant to be, like this has been in your veins long before you even knew.

Din reaches the edge of the ring and you and Jack shower him with praise. It’s adorable watching him get flustered at all the attention given to him, especially when you lean and Jack lean to kiss his cheeks.

“Seems like your ridin’s was a little rusty today though, cowboy.” Jack purrs. “Maybe we should all have a nice private lesson after this.”

“Hope those lessons aren’t with you. Last time you were out by the second count.” Din, like the surprisingly snarky man he is, effortlessly replies back as snatches the baby wiggling trying to for him.

Jack squawks hilariously upset and you snicker as your heart fills to the brim.

The arena is quiet, a sacred space that watches over all of you together like this. And it’s special, having this moment here with both of them.

You think there might not be many country songs about snagging two cowboys, but it’s okay.

You find this song in your heart feels eternal.

#omg first fic of the series AHHH and if you’re reading this know I’m seating you front row to this rodeo thank you forever #let’s rodeo fic series #cowboy din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #Jack Daniels x reader #Jack Daniels x f!reader #agent whiskey x reader #Din Djarin x Reader x Jack Daniels #din djarin x you #Jack 🤎#Din 🩶#cowboys like us tag

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chalterdh22 · 8 months

Text

Chapter 34: Was He Hurting You?

Din grabbed his sock and started to put it back on. Grogu yelled and hit his hand as it got too close. “What, my foot is getting cold.” He said to the kid, wanting sympathy. He wasn’t buying it. Instead, he went and stood by his foot, as to measure himself against it.

“You are taller than it!” I exclaimed, acting shocked and pointing.

“Gaaah, coo!” He reached over to tap his toe, as if it was something below him.

“Yup, way bigger!”

Din at this point seemed to relax a bit and was leaning more onto the bench behind us, still holding his sock, just watching the kid explore. I reached over and gave Grogu another little foot tickle and he fell backward giggling. “You’re so cute.” I said to him.

Grogu sat back up and decided he wanted to try that, so he clawed at the bottom of Din’s foot, causing him to jerk it back a bit. “No, Grogu. Don’t do that.” he said sternly, straightening his leg out again. I was laughing at this point to myself, trying not to be obvious. Really, I thought to myself.

Of course, the kid didn’t listen, so he did it again. Din gasped, really not expecting the second one, pulling his leg into his chest. “I told you don’t do that, or we can’t play anymore.” He now crossed his legs on top of each other. The booted one covered the bottom of the other one.

“You’re no fun.” I said shoulder bumping him.

“I don’t like how that feels.” he said, as I rolled my eyes. I patted his ungloved hand like you would a child.

“You’ll be just fine.” I said reassuringly, patronizing him a bit. I already saw what Grogu had in mind, so I started to scooch away from Din, who gave me a look, like, where are you going. I really didn’t want anything to do with this or get caught in the middle. I coughed to the side, trying to just act normal, as I moved. I thought to myself, Din is going to be mad.

Just then, the kid whipped his booted foot out of the way, to gain better access to the bare foot. Din tried to move it back, but with no prevail. “Kid, what are you doing?” Din started to reach forward to put the sock on once and for all, but Grogu shoved his body against the bench using the force. “What are you doing? Stop it now!” he said sternly.

At this point, I stood up, away from the helpless Mandalorian. He looked at me and if he didn’t have his mask on, I pictured his face to be like, “Please help me!” This made me laugh out loud, which didn’t help his situation. “You’re not supposed to use the force like that, Luke said!” Din pointed out to Grogu.

“Like what?” I stepped in, defending the little guy. “He’s not force tickling you, is he?”

“Gah!” Grogu said, pointing at his bootless foot. Din started to retreat his leg back to his chest, but the kid stopped halfway there. He walked up calmly and scratched his foot again a few times. This made Din lift off the floor.

“Seriousslylylyyy kid! Sttttooooppp it! I’m nnnnnot kihihidding!”

“It sure sounds like you are!” I said mocking him. I know I’m being mean right now. But it’s for his own good. This is what happens when you have a gifted kid, and you have no personality. I just leaned against the wall with my arms crossed around my chest. I wouldn’t let Grogu kill him, but a little torture would do him good!

Grogu, right after the threat he received from his helpless dad, gurgled, and went at it again. That did it. Din flung his head back, belly laughing, and this made the kid keep going harder and faster. He loved to hear his dad laugh. Grogu kept making happy faces and laughs as he watched Din flip around on his back, trying to reach his arms towards the kid, but wasn’t able to because of all the laughing. After about 30 seconds of this, I realized the laughing was mixed with a different noise that was like gasping. So, I swooped over and picked Grogu up and started tickling his belly. When he giggled, he immediately released Din, who now was lying flat on the floor, breathing heavily.

I slowly walked away, thinking, he could kill me now, and yeah, I probably deserve it. “Let’s let him catch his breath,” I whispered. We walked back up front, and I sat in my chair, putting the kid on my lap. “I poked him again in the tummy. “You must be careful with your dad. He’s sensitive.” I was sooooo condescending at this point, it wasn’t even funny. Buuut, it was!

I heard some movement from the back that made me stiffen up a little in my seat. The kid was trying to look behind me, waiting for his dad to appear again. Din came walking up, sat in his chair, and was still. Almost too still. The kid and I were just staring at him, waiting to be lectured, shot, yelled at, whatever. Something. This silent treatment was killing us both.

“Grogu says he sorry.” I said softly.

“No, he didn’t.”

“Ok, well, I’m sorry then.”

“No, you’re not.”

I sighed loudly. “Did he hurt you?” There was silence, like he was trying to think of an appropriate response. I knew it didn’t hurt him, but he was probably uncomfortable.

“I’m not used to that……feeling. I don’t like feeling I don’t have control.” He clearly hasn’t been tickled that much, which I knew, but now, it was like a part of people’s lives, human contact, which we take for granted, was taken from him at an early age.

“Luke said you kind of liked it…”

Din cut me off. He was still staring straight ahead as he talked. “And I have two people on ship with me with powers that I’ll never understand or be able to use.” So that’s what was bothering him. Not that he was tickled, but he didn’t have what we had.

“It’s not about the powers Din. Grogu is searching for a dad in you. Sometimes you need to be the big, strong, Mandalorian that he fell in love with, but sometimes, he needs to be a child with a dad.” I explained.

“I never got that choice!”

“And it’s not his fault you never did, so don’t get mad at him!” I snapped back, defending Grogu.

Din sighed. “I know. This is all so new for me and,” he paused, “I’m just not comfortable with play like that.”

I leaned in to put a hand on his should. “I know you aren’t. And I promise we won’t do that again if that’s what you want.” Grogu shot his face up at me, looking at me like I was crazy! I stroked his ears softly. “I mean that, Din. I don’t want you to feel upset or uncomfortable. Especially at the kid. Be mad at me all you want.”

“I’m not mad. I’m just not used to all this. Just give me some time.”

“We will. We will give you all the time you need. We both care for you very much!” I was stroking his arm now and looking out the window. “Hey, is that Naboo?”

“Yes, we will be landing soon. Grogu, get back in your seat buddy.” He hopped back there as I turned around and buckled him in, then doing the same for me.

“And now let our vacation begin!”

#grogu #pedro pascal #star wars #the mandalorian #mandalorian and grogu #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #grogu djarin #mando #tickle scenarios #tword content #tword post #tickle content

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bits-and-babs · 1 year

Note

Hey darling! Finally sending an ask, that link list inspired me haha. Pretty please can I have Din Djarin x mirror sex but specifically the mirror being a reflection from a piece of his armour across the room👀

Thanks in advance, love you long time 💕

𝐍𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐔𝐒 — 𝐃𝐈𝐍 𝐃𝐉𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐍

» PAIRING : The Mandalorian x f!Reader

» CONTENTS : Sexy reflections, p in v sex, cream pie (wrap it, guys, I mean it), overstimulation, filthy Mando talk, use of Mando’a. 18+, ya nasties.

» DIN MASTERLIST : here || MAIN MASTERLIST : here

You know he can see you, that he’s noticed exactly what occupies your attention. Perhaps it’s shallow of you that you continue to have such an affinity for the armour even after all this time. His smooth, reflective breastplate gleams in the twin sunlight of Tatooine like a polished jewel, your face projected back to you on the surface.

The Mandalorian is observant. You are confident he’s twigged the way you never quite look into his visor, instead occupied by your own face staring back at you in the gouged ‘cheekbones’ of his helmet. He would often clear his throat to recapture your attention when you found yourself momentarily distracted by the mirror image in his chest plate.

Yes, you were aware of how it looked. It appeared self-obsessed, narcissistic even, but you couldn’t shake the vivid daydream that occupied your mind, rattling around while Mando spoke and drowning out his soft, husky voice.

Stars, you wanted to fuck him. Every waking moment of the day, you were consumed by your own arousal for The Mandalorian, all triggered by one solitary thought a few weeks ago when you had caught your reflection in his pauldron.

‘I’d be able to watch him fuck me’.

The salacious thought, previously only an intrusive yet fleeting imaginary scenario, had grown into a devastatingly consuming addiction. You imagined it, his chest plate reflecting his thick, ruddy cock spearing into you, your thighs slick with your own cum and glistening on the surface of the armour. How you’d see your own body tremble and writhe against the hangar floor, overcome by the arousal he drew from you and arching your ba-

“Hey,” Mando’s ever so slightly frustrated tone rips you from your scandalous daydream, rocking you back into reality. Overcome with embarrassment, you feel your skin burn hot under his questioning gaze. “You’re not listening.”

“I’m so sorry,” you speak quietly, and stars you mean it. It’s mortifying, being caught out like this. It’s easy to wonder if Mando thinks you consider yourself an Alderani princess, contemplating all the ways you can style your hair to be the most eligible at the Festival of Light ball.

“Do you-… Do you want to explain what the problem is?” He dares to ask, The Mandalorian’s voice lilting with mild concern, as though he’s concerned you may request to take his armour for yourself.

If only it were that simple.

“… It’s the reflection.” Your admittance makes Mando stop, his immovable helmet expression staring blankly at you in question. It was agonising. He wants you to spell it out to him.

You sigh heavily.

“I want-“

His cock splits you open, sinking deep inside of you and forcing you open around his girth. You sob out, arousal blooming through your nervous system as you watch the tears drip down your cheeks.

Mando had heard your ridiculous admittance with an open mind, answering simply by removing his breastplate. The click of the latch unlocking made your hairs stand on end, helplessly watching as he stood the armour up at the head of the tiny cot.

“Eyes on your reflection.”

He has you on your hands and knees, his gloves nipping at the skin of your bare hips. Mando hadn’t removed any other item of clothing, pulling his cock out of his flight-suit pants and immediately pushing inside of you.

“Ohhhfuck!” You squeak, his length sinking inside of you almost too easily, considering how little prep you’d been granted. The ridges of his cock push up against the sensitive spots inside of you, and you watch as your jaw drops at the overwhelming sensation.

“So wet. Do you walk around like this for me all the time?” He speaks. The modulator does little to hide the strain in his voice when your walls clamp down on him, desperate for more. “Leaking down your thighs for me, Sarad.”

You wail softly, staring at the reflection of The Mandalorian as his hips begin to rock forward and into you. His undulating body looks long and broad in the mirror image of the beskar armour. The rippling muscles of his abdomen flex and curl underneath the thin canvas of his black flight suit.

“Stars,” you wheeze as he suddenly picks up the pace, your fingers gripping tightly onto the bed sheets on the cot. Mando’s tentative testing seems to end, his hips picking up speed and force when he finds the confidence he will not hurt you.

Arching your back, you push your hips back into his thrusts. It sets off a string of grunts and groans from The Mandalorian. “Fuck- you’re so tight around me, Sarad. So tight and f-fucking wet.”

It’s so unusual for him; words usually buried deep unless absolutely necessary. You’re unsure you’ve ever heard him talk so much, his voice growing louder with each slap of his skin against the curve of your ass.

“Fuck- I’d… I’d let you ruin my armour with this pretty pussy,” he rambles, hands squeezing at every handful of flesh he can; your hips, your ass, your waist and breasts. “You can gr-hngg grind against it, mark it up with how wet you are. Make you lick it off-“

“Mando!” You choke out, each syllable of his utterly filthy words pulsing through you and blurring your vision of the chest plate with the tears that well in your eyes.

“Stars, just- Just mark me up with that pretty cunt. Stain my tassets. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Get to watch as you drag it over my beskar-“

You’re seeing double, the vision of Mando fucking into you at a mind-numbing pace making you light-headed. You can feel it build, feel it grow and tease at the edges of your body.

“I-I’m gunna c-ughhhh!”

Mando simply reaches around you, pushing the leather-clad pad of his thumb against your clit.

The supernova that blasts through you burns your muscles as they clamp down around him, sobbing loudly and forcing your eyes open to witness your writhing body in the outline of the armour.

Mando’s hips stutter in the image projected back to you, and you both watch and feel him bury deep inside you, cumming with a trembling groan. His palm splays across your lower back, pressing your upper body down against the mattress and continuing to fuck you through the obliterating overstimulation that follows.

Credits:

— Gif Credits unknown- let me know so I can tag you!

— Mandalorian divider created by me using Picsart stickers.

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thefrogdalorian · 3 months

Note

hi spud! i remembered u did requests & was wondering if maybe u could do like a first kiss scenario w din? 🥺 something soft & yearn-y? aha. no worries if u can't but thanks anyways. 🩷

Hello Senna! Thank you so much for your request! Thinking about a first kiss with Din really inspired me (how does he hide his face from you and still kiss you? What leads up to the moment?? so many questions!!) and this was the result. There is plenty of yearning and some softness sprinkled in but a little angst too (very happy ending though aghhhdkgj). Thanks again and really hope you like it!! 🤍

A New Dawn

Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Word Count: 5107

Rating: General

Summary: Travelling through the galaxy with a mysterious nameless and faceless Mandalorian with a reputation as the best bounty hunter in the parsec would probably terrify most people. Instead, over the months you have known Mando, you have discovered his gentler, more affectionate side. Living in such proximity to the man you have an enormous crush on threatens to suffocate you as you determine that he must never find out. But after a job seemingly goes badly wrong on a forest planet, the fear of losing him will perhaps finally be the tipping point for a new dawn in your relationship...

Content Warnings: Kissing, bit of angst when there's brief panic for Din/reader's safety (happy ending though!), allusions to violence (canon-typical, nothing descriptive/graphic).

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

Upon that fateful day on which you had entered an agreement with a bounty hunter, you had been under no illusions that there would be much unpredictability given his line of work. That there would be periods of isolation when he left you behind in his ship while he went in search of his latest bounty. You could be alone on that ship for weeks; well, save for the big-eared, bug-eyed green baby, whose care you had been entrusted with, by the mysterious man who was your employer. When agreeing to travel with The Mandalorian, you had expected the randomness of the path that you cut through the galaxy, journeying from planet to planet depending on his latest jobs. The anguish that came with wondering where he was and whether the jobs were going well as you sat in the Razor Crest and cared for his child. Despite how much it had bothered you at first, you had gradually become used to such emotions. You expected them.

What you had never expected was the fondness you had developed for the man.

The first few times that Mando had headed off the ship for a job, you had been almost nonchalant about his absence, barely noticing the passage of time. You passed your days playing with The Child when you were not fast asleep in your bunk. But slowly and surely, he had begun to mean something more to you. You noticed it in his absence most of all. The ship felt empty without his deep voice and you missed his calm, reassuring presence.

It was strange really, considering that you had never laid eyes upon him. In fact, you had rarely seen him dressed in anything less than his full armour, complete with all the weapons he attached to himself almost ritualistically, without fail, every single day. Even if you were merely hurtling through hyperspace, he was still armed to the teeth. Mando had explained that weapons were part of his religion and his armour was like a second skin to him. You were curious, but not judgmental, about his way of life. It was vastly different to your own and entirely contradictory to anything you had ever heard about Mandalorians before. Even the scant information you had overheard about the formidable warriors in the miserable Cantina where you had once been employed had never included anything about Mandalorians being forbidden from removing their helmets in the presence of others.

Mando had made it abundantly clear, before you ever stepped foot aboard the Razor Crest, that wearing his helmet was a definitive boundary, never to be questioned or pushed. It was his ultimate line in the sand that you were never to cross. You were respectful of his Creed, asking questions with a curious rather than invasive intention which he seemed to appreciate. In fact, rather than driving a wedge between you, his Way had provoked many thoughtful conversations between the two of you.

There were nights you would sit in the cockpit as the brilliant blue trails of hyperspace surrounded you, bonding over your similar pasts. Sometimes, you would wake up in the bunk underneath the tiny hammock that belonged to The Child with no memory of clambering in the previous night. He never admitted it, but you were almost certain that Mando had carried you there himself, putting his impressive physique to use for something other than hauling bounties back to the Razor Crest.

Amongst it all, you had learned his habits and quirks. You learned the way he liked his caf in the morning. How meticulous he was with polishing his armour until it gleamed so brightly, even in the dark of hyperspace, that you could see every detail of your reflection, right down to your pores. You discovered that he cleaned his weapons, taking them apart and checking every inch of them when he was particularly stressed or his bounties were not as straightforward as he had hoped.

Most of all, you discovered how incredibly kind and caring the man beneath the hard, intimidating armour truly was.

Although he had weapons strapped to every inch of his body, Mando could be impossibly gentle. You had witnessed evidence of his ruthless efficiency when he returned to the ship laden with several bounties. Sometimes alive, sometimes dead, though he usually prevented you from seeing the more grisly sights. Yet the man you saw most often of all, moving around the Razor Crest with you as you hurtled around the galaxy, amongst the stars was different to reconcile with the violent nature of his profession.

It was difficult to believe that the hands that had earned him the reputation as the most formidable bounty hunter in the parsec due to their proficiency in neutralising even elusive targets were the very same hands that were impossibly gentle when placing The Child in his hammock. The same hands that had extinguished countless lives had been used to rock the little one after he awoke from the nightmares that frequently plagued him. Nightmares that plagued Mando, too. But you had never been bold enough to bring up the tossing and turning you had heard from his bunk pretty much every night since you had started travelling with him. Despite the relatively personal conversations and information you had gleaned from him, it still felt a step too far. You didn’t want to cause him to shut down by prying, especially not after he had seemed to become genuinely comfortable in your presence and show you the gentler side of his nature.

You felt so privileged to see such a side to him. It was a side that you had never expected to witness. After all, you had been utterly terrified the first time you encountered him, when he strutted into the run-down Cantina you worked in. He was impossible not to stare at, clad in that unpainted armour that glinted when the light hit it in just the right spot. You had never seen a Mandalorian in the flesh before, but you had heard plenty of legends about them. Mandalorians were famed across the galaxy for their ruthless, lethal accuracy and formidable fighting skills.

That feeling of gratitude had soon developed into something else, though. A feeling that you would class as affection, albeit affection that was veering dangerously close into the territory of a four-letter word that your mind could not even contemplate. A feeling that would be all too dangerous to harbour for a man who you still felt you knew so little about.

You were certain that your feelings for Mando were doing untold damage to your health. Living in such proximity to a man you harboured a devastatingly intense crush towards would one day succeed in suffocating you. Your chest ached whenever he was near, knowing that there was no possibility he could ever reciprocate your feelings. You knew that your love would remain unrequited. Above all, you knew that he must never, ever discover the depths of your affection towards him.

There were more than a few times you had dissolved into tears during a few moments of solitude in the ‘fresher; your salty tears mixing with the hot jets of water from the Razor Crest’s shower. One particular occasion, when your feelings had left you particularly devastated, was the evening when Mando had returned from his latest job, during which he had to terminate the asset after one escape attempt too many. The asset’s termination would result in a lower fee and you knew that was partially the reason for Mando’s frustration. Yet, despite his reputation, you also knew that he did not relish killing bounties, much preferring to lure them back to the ship and freeze them in carbonite. In everything you knew about him, it appeared that Mando did not get a particular thrill from killing people that he, personally, had no qualms with. Although you knew that if anyone ever threatened even one white hair on the wrinkled little head of The Child, Mando would not hesitate to cut them down where they stood.

That evening, The Mandalorian’s exasperation had been evident from the second he had returned to the Razor Crest, ordering you and The Child to hide in the cockpit while he stored the remains so you would not have to witness such a gruesome sight. You knew immediately that the job had not been easy and your heart ached for him. When Mando had given you the all-clear, you had descended the ladder down to the main hull of the ship with shaky hands and legs. Your trembling limbs did not come from the fact you were descending the rungs one-handed and carefully cradling The Child in your other arm, you were well used to that. No, you were dreading seeing Mando so frustrated… because of the way it made you feel. Seeing him so wound up, knowing that you were the one to put his pieces back together in your own subtle way thrilled you. It was a dangerous prospect.

“I take it the job wasn’t successful?” You questioned, tone neutral. You attempted to appear as nonchalant as possible as you handed The Child to him. You hoped that taking the little one in his arms would go some way to calming him down.

“No,” Mando responded, definitively. His tone of voice made it abundantly clear that he did not want to discuss the matter further with you.

“Perhaps I could put The Child to bed, while you take a shower?” You offered, wanting to do anything to soothe his frayed nerves.

Mando shook his head.

“I’ll do it, thanks,” he added gruffly.

You nodded before turning your back and climbing the ladder back up to the cockpit to give them their space. There was hardly any privacy in a ship so compact. Sometimes it could feel slightly claustrophobic aboard the Razor Crest, but you and Mando had worked a pretty good system out by now so you did not feel as though you were constantly on top of each other. You learned that he was a surprisingly patient man and did not express his anger in the way one might have expected from one capable of so much violence.

It was no surprise when you descended the rungs a while later to find him standing in front of the weapons cabinet, broad shoulders tensed as he examined his impressively-stocked armoury. You didn’t say a word, wondering whether he was about to tell you to return to the cockpit and leave him alone. Though you hoped that he would interpret your presence as a comforting one, not an invasive one.

“Could you pass me the cleaning cloth, please?” Mando asked.

“Of course,” you replied, opening the crate where he kept his cleaning equipment. You selected the cloth that you knew he favoured and handed it to him, the corners of your lips curving upwards in a slight, shy smile.

“Thank you,” Mando said appreciatively as his gloved hand rested on your upper arm and squeezed it gently. You sensed that he was thanking you for much more than passing him the cloth. Something about his touch and the way he said it had sickened you to your core.

“I‘m gonna take a shower,” was all you managed to say, before you turned away from him.

You had practically sprinted to the ‘fresher then, needing privacy more than anything as you crumbled. As tears streamed down your cheeks, you tortured yourself over and over asking the same question:

How could a man capable of such violence be so gentle with you?

Your soul was truly tortured by the feelings that you held for this man.

It was that moment you thought of now. A moment amongst many others, as you sat and waited for Mando to return from his latest assignment. You were accustomed to days turning to weeks and weeks even turning to months on the rare occasion. It was a solitary experience, just you and The Child in the Razor Crest. You would not see another life form for weeks. Nor would you speak to anyone other than The Child. You weren't always certain whether he understood you. Mando always left a comlink with you, but it was reachable only by him. It was strictly for emergencies. In all the months that you had travelled with him, it had never once sounded when he was off on a mission. It had led you to wonder whether it even worked at all.

Occasionally, Mando would permit you to leave the ship but on particularly hostile planets, you were confined to the silver hull of his home, with just your ration packs and the mysterious green child for company.

This particular planet was one of such peril. Thus, Mando had forbidden you from leaving the ship. Although you always respected his demands, for The Child’s as much as your own sake, you adored the little guy, the loneliness was beginning to eat into your gut and make you feel grouchy after such a long period of isolation. Mando had told you that he expected the job to last no more than three days, but it was ten since he had crept out in the dead of night, armed to the teeth in pursuit of a crime lord who had made one enemy too many.

As you lay back on the bunk, thinking of the man who had unexpectedly left such a deep impression on your heart, The Child began mewling. You instantly sat up, sighing softly as you reached into his hammock and stroked the end of one of his large green ears between your thumb and forefinger.

“What’s up, buddy?” You questioned, rocking him gently and hoping that you had prevented him from dissolving into gut-wrenching sobs.

The Child just gazed at you with his big brown eyes, expression unreadable.

“Do you want something to eat?” You asked, often knowing that the way to soothe his heart was through his stomach.

The Child finally gave some indication of what was wrong with a small nod and you opened the door to the bunk and made your way towards the fortunately still well-stocked cupboards. Fortunately, Mando was fastidious in always ensuring there was enough food for the two of you. You appreciated that all the more as you gave The Child a bar which he wolfed down in only a couple of bites, despite his tiny frame. He had been fed barely an hour ago, but the little guy had a voracious appetite.

With a newly full stomach, you hoped that the little womp rat would finally get some sleep when you returned him to his hammock. Yet, as you lay back on your own bunk, you found that you could not settle.

Time became an illusion after so many days cooped up in the Razor Crest and despite the late hour, according to your chrono, you found that you were wide awake. There was nothing to do except pace around the Crest.

You must have paced around the Crest enough times to cover the circumference of the planet when you were finally on when a sound caused you to stop in your tracks. It sounded like a faint crackle from where your comlink rested on some crates, forgotten and discarded. Until now. You barely had time to react before it chirped into life, with the sound of a familiar deep voice crackling slightly suddenly blaring from it.

Mando was calling your name.

You darted across the hull and scooped up the comlink from its position on top of the very crate from which you had fished out cleaning supplies. You were startled by the fact that Mando was actually using it.

“It’s Mando,” he panted, tone desperate. “Listen, things aren’t looking good. If I’m not back by sunrise, take The Child and run. Promise me, you’ll get out of there. Promise m–”

Before Mando could finish and much less, could you even respond, the line went dead.

You stood there, startled by the turn of events. Your mind racing with thoughts. Where would you go? Which supplies should you pack? How far away was sunrise from now? Could you even use a blaster to shoot an enemy down, if needed? What were you going to do without Mando? How would you take care of The Child alone?

You wanted to sink to your knees, shout and scream. That was not an option. You knew that you had to keep going. Mando had wanted you to vow to him, which you would have done in a heartbeat had the line not first been cruelly cut. Even if he could not hear you, you still wanted to pledge your word to him.

“I promise I’ll protect The Child, Mando,” you whispered, clutching the comlink to your chest as tears streamed down your cheeks silently and the realisation that you could find yourself alone in the galaxy once more dawned upon you.

You spent the next couple of hours packing and then repacking as many bags as you could manage to carry and pathetically practising gripping a blaster. Mando had demonstrated once or twice, in case you ever found yourself in a bind. You were certainly in one now, but the adrenaline coursing through your body made it near impossible to remember such careful, deliberate instructions. You contemplated the fact that he had chosen you for a reason, to care for The Child. Whatever such a reason was, it seemed futile now. You were in no fit state to care for anyone.

The guilt threatened to overwhelm you as you spent a few precious minutes watching The Child sleep, blissfully unaware of the anguished state his caregiver was currently in. Your heart ached for him. The bond he shared with Mando was something beyond words and you knew he would be devastated. How could you manage to take care of a distraught child and keep him safe from the same evil forces that had taken his father?

You checked your chrono, heart sinking as you realised how close sunrise now was. Your heart thundered in your ears as you ascended the ladder for what was almost certainly the last time, your head peeking over the floor of the cockpit as you saw the pitch blackness of night gradually giving way to the lighter shade of blue that indicated that sunrise was imminent. As soon as the sky was flecked with oranges and pinks, you knew you had to obey Mando’s command and leave.

You imagined him, frightened and injured, stumbling his way through the thick trees you could just about see from the cockpit, desperately fighting to return to you. You willed him on, hoping against all odds that he would make it back to you, safe and sound. You would berate him for putting himself into such a dangerous position. Then, you would piece him back together and prepare him to do it all over again. You were hopelessly devoted to him. Now, such devotion had placed you in this position. Alone, once again.

Alas, despite a valiant effort, Mando's return was not to be. He had tried his best, but it was not good enough. When the sky blazed brilliant bronze, you knew it was time to go.

You descended the rungs for the last time, bidding a silent farewell to the ship where you had found so much happiness with such an unlikely companion and his even unlikelier son. You felt a lump in your throat, your eyes filling with tears as the finality of the moment dawned on you. Then, you exhaled and pushed your shoulders back, imagining yourself wearing armour like Mando. You had to do it, for him. You had to grant his dying wish. You had to be brave for The Child.

You were only two paces from the bunk when you heard it. The unmistakable whirring of the Razor Crest’s door opening. It was a sound that usually signified Mando's return. This time, though, it signified your imminent demise.

You were frozen to the spot, then. You were certain that the forces that had gotten to Mando were now here to finish you and The Child off, too. You contemplated reaching for the blaster that was in the bags just a few steps away, but you knew it was futile, given your inexperience. The forces that had murdered your Mandalorian would make short work of someone as inept as you. The best you could do was give yourself up, so that The Child may live. Hopefully, he would be undetected in his bunk, sleeping soundly despite the bloodshed just a few paces away.

You shut your eyes and thought of Mando, wondering if you were about to join him. You braced yourself for a blaster shot that never came. For it was not the alien sounds of a mysterious, threatening entity that your ears detected emanating approaching your position. No, it was not that at all.

Instead, you stood there, aghast as the familiar heavy, even thuds and slight clinking of armour echoed with every step up the ramp of the Razor Crest. The reassuring sound finally reached through your frayed nerves and your eyes flew open as you spun around in disbelief. This was not the end. There was no threat. Instead, there was an instantly familiar sound, one that you had feared you would never hear again. The noise signalled to you that somehow, against all odds, he had returned to you.

“Mando?” You questioned, momentarily terrified that an enemy holding a blaster would appear into view behind him.

“Sorry about that,” Mando huffed and you realised that particular fear was unfounded. “Job got a bit messier than I anticipated.”

The only indication of the gravity of his situation that had necessitated his desperate message was the evidence of numerous blaster shots that his armour had clearly taken, given the black marks on its otherwise pristine surface. The corners of your lips curled up in a knowing smirk. You knew he would spend most of your journey to the next planet cleaning every single plate with painstaking attention to detail.

“But th-the you used the comlink?” You stuttered, aghast at his sudden appearance in the Razor Crest.

“I did,” he confirmed. “And were you about to leave?” Mando asked as he entered the ship and approached you. You were unable to reply with words, suddenly feeling incredibly choked up. You nodded and gestured towards the bags you had hurriedly packed.

“Good,” Mando nodded approvingly.

“I thought you were…” you shook your head, unable to finish that sentence and vocalise the dark places your mind had travelled.

“Dead.” Mando finished for you.

You nodded again. You would almost be amused by his familiar bluntness were you not still so shocked by his presence.

“I had sharper reflexes,” he shrugged cockily, a simple explanation for events that you were sure were far more complex than he was letting on.

“I thought I was alone. I thought I… I thought I’d have to leave here and never see you again,” you stammered, voice cracking at the thought. “Did you at least complete the job?”

“Yes,” Mando nodded. “Proof of termination was sufficient and I acquired it,” he explained, deep voice slightly hoarse thanks to the force that he had undoubtedly exerted in completing such a perilous job.

“I don’t know if I want to kill you, or kiss you right now,” you sighed, shaking your head in disbelief at his accomplishment. Then, the realisation that you had finally given voice to your most intimate thoughts dawned on you. You clapped your hand over your mouth, eyes widening in horror. You were utterly mortified.

Mando was unmoving, which only added to your panic. You noticed the way his hands clenched into fists briefly and he sighed deeply. Then he tilted his head slightly and unclenched his fists.

“Close your eyes,” Mando commanded.

Although his voice was quiet, something about the way he said it struck fear into your heart. There was a darkness to his voice, to his tone that terrified you. You were certain that he was going to punish you for such a remark. You had always been slightly afraid of him despite the gentleness he had shown you. Now, it appeared that those lingering fears were well-founded. He was probably disgusted by you. He had taken you in when you were at your lowest, given you a job, a bunk and a purpose.

Yet, he had unknowingly given you so much more than that. It didn’t matter anymore, though. Especially not now that you had let your feelings get the better of you. You were convinced that he was going to kick you out, convinced that there was absolutely no possibility that he reciprocated your feelings for him. Mando hated you. You were certain of that.

“Mando, I’m sorry. I didn’t mea–” you stammered, eyes still widened in horror.

The presence of soft leather against your skin abruptly cut your frantic apologies off, mid-utterance. His glove was warm across your forehead, nose and cheeks as his hand dwarfed your features. The loss of vision that came with his gloved hand covering your eyes stopped all coherent thoughts in your brain. The hiss of his helmet depressurising, a sound you had previously heard only through the door of the ‘fresher, made your heart quicken until it was beating with alarming speed. Then, the feeling of his soft lips moving gently against yours caused it to stop completely.

You were struck by two things. Firstly, the fact that the man you had been certain was dead, was not only very much alive but was presently moving his lips against yours. Secondly, underneath his helmet, Mando apparently kept a moustache. You could feel the bristles of his facial hair tickling slightly as his lips claimed yours in a tender kiss.

You were certain that your heart was going to give out if your knees did not first, momentarily fearful that you would send the pair of you crashing in a tangle of limbs to the hard, metallic surface of the Razor Crest’s floor with a thud. Fortunately, you happened to be kissing the most formidable bounty hunter in the parsec, who soon wrapped his spare arm around your waist and demonstrated, in the way that he held you, all the strength and certainty that had gained him such a reputation. You smirked against his lips as the hand that was not currently covering your eyes trailed up your back, travelling across your body over the coat that you had pulled on in preparation for your imminent departure from the Razor Crest.

The movement of your lips together was electrifying. It confirmed that the connection you were certain had been building between the two of you was real. It felt so natural, as though you had always been destined to be pulled into each other’s orbits in this way. You felt chills traverse your skin as your brain perceived the scent of his glove, given its proximity to your nose. At once, you could smell the story of his perilous brush with death. There was the distinctive smoky scent of explosions, the sharp metallic smell from his ever-steady grip on his blaster, the earthy undertones – no doubt thanks to days of traipsing through undergrowth, – the musky smell that was unmistakably masculine, unmistakably him and finally, the faint hints of leather. As you registered each scent, you were reminded, once again, of the lethality this man was capable of. A man who was currently kissing you with such fondness and affection.

When your lungs started to burn – from the exhilaration or oxygen deprivation, you weren’t sure – Mando finally pulled away, leaving you breathless and dizzy from the events which had just transpired between the two of you. You smiled and bit your lip in glee, as the realisation of the monumental shift in your relationship that had just occurred hit you. You hoped it had not been a one-off, a fleeting moment of carelessness on his part that he would come to regret.

“You couldn’t kill me anyway,” Mando whispered, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. You were stunned. Clearly, that was not the case. This had been a deliberate, measured action on his part.

Then, the tell-tale hissing sound indicated that Mando had replaced his helmet. You couldn’t help the fact that your heart dropped a little at the sound. After all, despite how much you respected his devotion to The Way, there was always a simmering curiosity about his appearance. Especially having just kissed him. You could still feel the slight scratchiness that lingered on your skin from the bristles of his facial hair, a ghost of the kiss you had just shared; a reminder that it had happened.

Mando removed his hand from your eyes and you mourned the loss of contact, having relished the way that his hand had engulfed your face with its enormous size as it drowned your features. He always seemed to be everywhere, a looming presence over you.

“Mando, I –” you began, but he raised the same gloved hand that had just rested against your forehead, cutting you off once again.

“My name is Din,” he said quietly before he lowered his hand again.

“Oh,” you breathed, stunned that he had entrusted you with such a precious piece of information.

Although, given the fact that he had just kissed you, perhaps it was a logical step. Nevertheless, you appreciated the fact that you finally had a name to put to the deep voice you adored. Din, not Mando, was the man who had just stolen all rational thought from your mind with the gentle touch of his lips.

You smiled then, the first genuine smile that had graced your features since Din had left the Razor Crest ten days previously. Only a few minutes ago, you had feared that he would never return. Now, just when you had been certain your life with him was over, it appeared that it was just beginning.

As the sun rose over the Razor Crest, still surrounded by the trees of the forest planet you had been certain would be the location of an ending, it was clear that a new dawn was here for you and Din. A beginning was upon you, the start of something beautiful.

It was the first kiss you had shared with Din. But you were certain that it would not be your last.

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