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#djarinsbeskar
lights-on-the-ridge · 2 years
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A bit of @djarinsbeskar inspired Boxer Din Djarin for your evening entertainment
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bearsbeetsbeskar · 1 year
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Not me going to post that I desperately wish the writer for Stitches (@djarinsbeskar) would come back to Tumblr soon to satiate us with more content before mando s3, ONLY TO GET A NOTIFICATION THAT SHE HAS POSTED ON HERE
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Gotta rec two of my favourite artists before your celebrations ends!
First - @miranhas-art does on point pencil drawings with so much character! Regularly takes commissions and has loads of stellar reader insert and self insert pieces
Brand spankin new art for @clydesducktape's sweet fic Pan Dulce
This piece for @littleferal's Ezra
Javi and his Gatita and the hot and sweet fic by my girl @castleamc
TJ's baby antichrist concept done right!
Next up - @literallydontlook who regularly serves looks hot enough to knock me tf out!
Mad impressive Din x reader animation for this fic by @the-scandalorian that had me laughing my ass off but also feeling some type of way about daddy Din.
This piece for @krissology's heartbreaking young Din fic
Hyperspace oral for @djarinsbeskar's epic space opera
Congrats on the milestone too!
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Favorite Fanworks Art, Artist and Fic Recs:
Pan Dulce by @clydesducktape  [The Great Wall: Pero Tovar x baker f!reader, complete]  - Art by @miranhas-art [Pero x his little baker] 
The Mirror by @littleferal  [Prospect: Ezra x f!reader, oneshot smut] - Art by @miranhas-art [bookshop owner Ezra x reader f!reader] 
New House Guest by @castleamc  [Narcos: Javi Peña x f!reader + cat, oneshot]  - Art by @miranhas-art [Javi and his cat] 
The Antichrist Wears Spiderman Bandaids by @pettyprocrastination  [Triple Frontier: Frankie Morales x mom ofc/f!reader, headcanon/story idea]  - Art by @miranhas-art [Frankie x mom & toddler antichrist] 
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Revelation by @the-scandalorian  [The Mandalorian: Din Djarin x f!reader, daddy kink, oneshot]  - Animation by @literallydontlook [Din x f!reader, explicit]
Jate’kara by @krissology  [The Mandalorian: young Din Djarin x f!reader, complete]  - Art by @literallydontlook [Din x f!reader, explicit] 
Stitches by @djarinsbeskar  [The Mandalorian: Din Djarin x medic f!reader, ongoing epic series]  - Art by @literallydontlook [Din x f!reader, really explicit]
(Sent in for twp’s “Show Me the Fanworks!” Celebration��now over)  
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Oooh... what’s this!?!?  A veritable treasure trove of gorgeous fanart and the fantastic fanfic it’s inspired by!?  I LOVE IT!! 
I’m already familiar with (and adore!) many of these, but there are a couple I haven’t seen/read before, and I’m looking forward to checking them out!
Thank you for all these lovely recs, dear ‘nonny!
🧡 twp
[Edited to Add: All recs now compiled on the Fav Fanworks Rec List]
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djarinsbeskar · 2 years
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PAMARTHE ARC 3: HIREACH (HIGH-RAWK)
A/N: It has been a hot minute. I've been so busy with life and writing my novel that before I knew it, seven months have passed since I last updated my beloved story. I've felt the absence greatly. Through the difficulties in writing a manuscript, editing and the general breakdowns that go with it, I've longed to return to the story where my entire heart and soul lives. A terrible bout of writers block was only cured by returning to Stitches, and I cannot tell you how happy I am to be back. I can't promise updates will be as regular as they once were given my commitments to publishing, but I want to assure you all, this story is not abandoned. It never will be.
NOTE! If you'd like to keep up to date on the publication of A Sensual Summoning, you can follow me on tiktok @racheljroman, all my links are there -3-
Word Count: 13k.
Pairing: Din Djarin/Fem!Reader
Rating: 18+ (NO Minors)
Warings: Mentions of smut, general adult conversation, nothing too graphic for once. Mainly lore and world-building as I enjoyed playing in my sandbox for a while lmao.
Stitches Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Companion Guides
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“We’ve slept in smaller.”
Din Djarin was not an optimist.
The fact he was trying to be one now told you just how dire the situation really was. Either that, or he needed to check the vision technology in his helmet if he thought for even a second you’d both be able to fit in your childhood bed.
Night had well and truly fallen by the time Din carried you back from Buck’s Cove, and lethargy from the day’s activities brought home the fact that you hadn’t decided where to sleep yet.
The first logical answer was your old room. That was safe, expected. You should’ve known it wouldn’t work when Din made the room shrink by simply stepping through the door. He paced the area curiously, evidently trying not to snoop beyond anything that was already visible, which wasn’t much.
Airy tones with dark blue accents lined the metal inlays of furniture. The built-in shelves taking up half your wall space were crammed full of datapads, ranging from medical journals and behemoth anatomy texts, to the passing interests you had over the years that demanded research to satiate your ever growing curiosity.
Your small desk space sat beside the shelves, unassuming and modest for the alter it once represented. Studying to get into a highly competitive medical program as a teenager and then later, to relearn medicine through the lens of combat and triage before joining the Rebellion. So much had come from the time you spent hunched over that desk.
 You watched Din’s gloved fingers trace over the surface of it now, pausing in his movement. Your heart seized, forgetting your current predicament, and you wondered briefly if he recognized the significance of the desk too.
What did he have to compare it to, you wondered. A training ring where he built his strength and stamina in order to bear the weight of his beskar? An armorers anvil that crafted the weapons of his Creed? How curious it was that both your life training – in medicine and weaponry alike – brought you to the same place. A battlefield.
Dropping your gaze back to the bed in question, you allowed him to continue his silent perusal in peace.
This bed was made for one person, namely; a child. It was fine when you were growing up, even as a young adult because it was just you. But throwing in a warrior like Din? He was big in every sense of the word, from his towering height to the breadth of his wide shoulders. You couldn’t even be sure the bed was long enough for a man like him. There was simply no way he’d fit.
“There’s always the floor,” he suggested gruffly upon returning to your side.
Though it was Din that said it, he didn’t sound overly enthusiastic at the idea of you sleeping on the ground. Not after what had just happened on the beach between you.
His hand, possessive and heavy, settled low on your towel-covered back. His heat bled into you immediately, your skin flushed from more than just the shower you’d both shared. His…affection in the aftermath of your release wasn’t new, but Stars, it felt different.
Maybe it was because you’d let him fuck your ass for the first time. It was still tender, a little achy but oh so satisfying when it jolted you with a phantom throb of how big he’d felt inside you.
The warrior had been stubborn, bundling you up in his arms to carry you back up those steep steps to the house. He’d carefully washed your skin of abrasive sand under the hot spray of the shower. Reverently. Working his way over every part of your body with unhurried strokes and heated kisses to your mouth and jaw as he did so. His hands never felt so soft as when they massaged soap into your tangled hair, rinsing it meticulously despite having no vision with the lights off.
It felt sacred. Purposeful. Like every action was another promise spoken in touch instead of words.
You’d never known the human body to be divine before then. A miracle, yes, but never divine. You’d seen people survive horrific accidents, overcome terrible injuries and recover from illnesses that had ravaged their immune systems and organs. But years spent weighing, measuring and observing every bodily component infinite times over removed any sense of mystery from it, and mystery – at least in your mind – was the essence of divinity.
But in that shower, as the Mandalorian worshipped every inch of you in the wake of your trust in letting him fuck you where no man had before, you realized everything you knew was superficial. A dimly lit corner of a shadowed room you had no idea was so huge. It was terrifying and exhilarating and not unlike being in love, now that you thought about it.
He’d left your heart squishy and soft without even realizing it. That might explain why you weren’t content to sleep on the floor the way you had been for the last year. You didn’t want that here. You wanted something…new for him to experience, something better. You wanted him to feel the way you had in that shower, even if it was only in the form of a soft mattress.
“No,” you said eventually, “come with me.”
Adjusting your towel to tuck the corner over your cleavage more securely, you dropped the other to wrap around his larger hand. He grunted, letting you lead him out of the bedroom and down the hallway to the back of the house. His pace slowed when he realized where you were bringing him.
“That room…?”
“…Has a bed big enough for the two of us,” you finished for him, recognizing his reluctance.
It wouldn’t have been hard for him to piece together that it was your parents room when he cleared the house earlier in the day. Whether his reluctance was out of respect for them – Llyrian rest their souls – or worry for the effect it might have on you, the sentiment was well meaning. But if you continued to skirt around the borders of your old life, refusing to enter it and tiptoeing over landmines of your own creation, your time here would be miserable.
This was your house, however uncomfortable the thought still made you. The master bedroom was where you wanted to sleep with your warrior. Not on the floor, or on a cramped single bed.
“I promise the mattress will be worth it,” you tempted him with a small smile and a squeeze to his hand.
Din cocked is head silently, his arm stretched between you where you stood a few steps ahead of him. His larger grip swallowed the size of your hand and with a long inhale, he relented, jerking his chin up for you to continue on.
With the shutters still closed across the wall of transparisteel overlooking the sea, the room became cozier under the golden glow of the light you flicked on. The bed, sitting in the center of the room, had been stripped of any linens, but the preservation shield had guarded the mattress and pillows well. You were nearly certain your mother kept an extra comforter in the trunk at the end of the bed for colder nights.
Maker, you hadn’t been in here for what felt like an eternity, since the day you left for the Rebellion. How tightly you’d hugged your mother as you both sat at the end of the bed, trying to stop the tears from falling when you felt hers stain your shoulder.
A small lump formed in the back of your throat at the memory, long buried and painful from how neglected it was. But you were tired, and the impact of the memory was less severe than it probably would’ve been had you come in here hours before. Thank Llyrian for small mercies.
Unlike in your bedroom, Din didn’t stray from where he stood. He waited and watched as the mist in your eyes warmed with lucidity when you shoved the memory away and walked around the edge of the bed to check the trunk for a blanket. Aha! You knew it. Thick and insulating, the maroon comforter was technically for winter, but it was better than nothing.
You tossed it one-handed onto the bed, the other still holding your towel. It was a miserable throw, the blanket a little heavier than you were expecting, so half of it ended up falling off the edge pitifully.
“Should I add hoverball to the list of things you’re bad at?” Din deadpanned, lightening the moon with his dry wit instantly.
You laughed sarcastically and you could hear the smile in the snort he released when he bent down to gather the comforter and toss it back up onto the bed. He stalled momentarily when he did, crouching down to get a better look at whatever caught his attention.
“What are these carvings?” he asked, glancing up when you made your way around to him.
Like the dining table your father had painstakingly sculpted for your mother when they got married, the bed carried his mark too. Void of external attributes of clan life, there were no leaping stags or regal lions to be found. Instead, fluid lines with minimal – yet deliberate – patterns followed the length of the base up to an untouched headboard of solid white wood.
“These are Llyrian’s waves,” you pointed out the sharper, stronger lines and then to the softer swells that intersected the waves, “and these are the winds of Amhra. Pamarthen deities.” You tagged on for Din’s benefit to a grunt of understanding from the Mandalorian.
The bed was for a couple. The wind and waves symbolic of Llyrian and Amhra’s eternal love brought to life. You convinced yourself it didn’t mean anything because Din wasn’t a part of the culture, the significance was null and void…right?
“There’s a lot of skill in the craftsmanship,” he hummed, “metal this dense is hard to work with.”
Pride bloomed in your chest at the comment, a smile spreading on your lips unwittingly. You nodded in agreement.
“My father was very skilled when it came to metalwork,” you told him, a hint of shyness you hadn’t been expecting to feel blossoming in your tone.
Din stood back to his full height, immediately dwarfing you with how close he was.
“Something tells me your father wouldn’t be happy about this,” he rumbled, his arm folding around your waist intimately, the towel loosening dangerously at being disturbed.
“Why do you say that?” you asked quietly, coy as he took a half-step closer. Even with all the space this new room afforded you, he still chose to be as close to you as if you were both still crammed in the Razor Crest.
You didn’t drop your gaze from his visor at the brush of his leather-clad fingers across the top of your towel. You held his hidden eyes when the tips of his fingers dipped behind where you’d tucked the soft material at your cleavage. He didn’t answer you, the impassivity of his helmet not concealing the smirk you knew lurked behind it. You could practically taste it curling against your lips the way you had so many times as he pulled whimpers and moans from you effortlessly.
Hooking his finger into the pylweave cotton, your towel fell down your body to pool at your feet and you stood bare before him once again. Freshly showered and still glowing from your release not long ago, your stomach clenched as you watched him watch you.
His head tipped to the side and you could feel the moment his eyes broke contact with yours to drop down your face and neck. Over your breasts where tight nipples peaked under his gaze. Across your stomach and the hips he loved to grab whether he was fucking you or not. Down between your thighs that shifted and squeezed together subconsciously at the intoxicating…exhibitionism of being perceived so fully, so hungrily by this man.
Din took his time, drinking his fill of your body in the light before he reached back a hand to plunge the bedroom back into darkness. Sight was one thing, but it could never surpass the ecstasy of taste for a man who spent so much of his life deprived of it.
The heavy clunk of his helmet on the bedside table set your heart racing before he dropped his mouth to your ear hotly, “Does any father like the man who defiles his daughter?” he whispered, his facial hair rasping over your sensitive skin and making you shiver pleasantly.
His hands fell to your hips then, turning you with him so that when he sat back on the bed, you could straddle him.
“Do you defile me, Din Djarin?” you sighed, his mouth finding the line of your clavicle to kiss and lick slowly.
“Every fucking day, kitten…” he growled into your skin, his words muffled from his reluctance to part from where he was sucking a nice new mark into your collarbone, “and when I’m asleep, I defile you in my dreams too.”
His answer had your stomach flipping, the savagery of the word turning you on far more than you anticipated it could. There was a sense of taboo around it, that you shouldn’t want it the way you did. But you wanted him to ruin you, you wanted to be fucked and filled and stained until you were fit for no one else but him. You wondered how long it’d take for his hand to find its way between your legs to see just how wet it had made you.
“In your dreams too?” you whispered, eyes rolling closed at the thought while Din lost himself in your scent and taste.
“Mhm… The things I do to you…the things I want to do to you,” he muttered, pausing on a groan when your fingers found their way into his hair, still wet from the shower.
When his lips dropped to wrap around one of your nipples, your head fell back on a gasp, pushing your breasts further into his face.
“You can,” you heard yourself exhale, dragging your nails down to the back of his neck, “you can do all of it.”
Whatever he read in your words stalled him, his muscles tensing with a hum of raw power. Releasing your nipple, he lifted his head to crash his lips to yours, dominating your mouth with an aggressive desperation that left you breathless. Or maybe that was just his tongue that plundered your mouth. Either way, you were dizzy and panting by the time he flipped you onto the mattress to settle between your legs.
“One day, kitten…one day.”
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You woke up a few hours later, disoriented by the lack of engine noises and generators you were accustomed to on the Razor Crest. Din’s armored chest to your back, his steady breathing and the weight of his arm draped over your waist told you the warrior hadn’t sensed the same clatter that dragged you from sleep.
Maybe it was the bed that was too soft in comparison to the floor of the ship. Perhaps it was because you weren’t used to the roar of waves crashing against the cliffs anymore. Or maybe, it was instinct that compelled you to extract yourself from the warmth of Din’s hold in the middle of the night.
The comforter fell to your waist when you sat up, exposing your nudity and the sudden change in temperature tempted you to snuggle back into Din’s arms. He had opted to keep his armor on while he slept, at least for tonight. A planet was far more dangerous to his anonymity than hyperspace and you could appreciate it would take him time to understand you wouldn’t be disturbed this far north.
A shiver wracked you when your bare feet met the cool floor. Unlike the frigidity of space, a coastal night chill was more damp than it was cold. It could seep into skin and the cracks of buildings and while not nearly as cold as space or Maldo Kreis, it could cheat the mind into believing it was for a split second.
You reached blindly for the bag you packed, pulling one of the shirts you pilfered from Din out to wear under your short cape on the way to the door. Your bleary, sleep-laden mind was still trying to convince you to go back to bed though, providing erotic images of you crawling back up Din’s body, removing his helmet to kiss his…
A blank space fractured the realism of the dream and you refocused on the door.
No.
The solid wall of reluctance that rose in your mind startled you with its force, and your hand froze on the button. Pressing it open anyway, the hiss of the door sliding open sounded much too loud, but a quick check over your shoulder showed Din on his back, helmet turned towards where you’d been sleeping.
Padding down the hallway in an uncanny caricature of your past life, you came up to what was once Rhydian’s room with an unfounded trepidation that grew and grew and grew the longer you stood there.
Heart hammering, your consciousness returned with greater clarity as worry eclipsed fatigue. Fear of something dark and malicious waiting just on the other side of the door. It was an illogical instinct that demanded you check on the little bogwing for…some reason. For your own peace of mind, at least. But now that you were here, you were afraid.
This was ridiculous. You were being ridiculous. Was this how irrational all mothers felt when it came to their children?
You shook the thought out of your mind, sliding the door open into a darkness that unnerved you. None of the shutters had been opened yet, for both Din’s sake and for the added protection fortified durasteel gave when children were quite literally being stolen from their beds.
A stone sank in the pit of your stomach, nausea surfacing when the source of your worry revealed itself. You hadn’t even considered the danger you’d be inadvertently placing the child in by coming here. Admittedly, he was in constant danger from the imps who sought the power he possessed, but that wasn’t the point.
How could you be so…thoughtless?
You’d been so wrapped up in coming home yourself, that you hadn’t properly weighed the possible effect it might have on the little alien you loved more than anything.
Your eyes strained frantically in the darkness, picking out the small form at the top of Rhydian’s bed. Your shoulders sagged with a gust of relief. He was still there – of course he was – he was okay. Even with the worst of your concern abated, you walked over to sit at the side of the bed. You didn’t want to leave him just yet, the tension in your body still needing time to dissipate fully before you could even think about sleeping again.
He usually wasn’t so far away, even though he was just down the hall.
You stroked over the base of the ear sticking out from under the blankets, his other ear folded under his cheek while little snores left him. Completely zonked. After a while, weariness began to creep back up on you as the adrenaline subsided, your limbs heavy. It would be dawn soon, a new day with more unknowns lurking around familiar corners.
It wasn’t even a thought before you were laying down on the pillow beside the little bogwing, the faint scent of stale, mixed cologne squeezing your heart as you gently adjusted the child. He squalled quietly at being disturbed, half-conscious before he snuggled back to sleep against your chest and your heart settled.
Just an hour, that’s all you needed. Just an hour, then you could go back to your own bed.
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It wasn’t an hour. It wasn’t even two.
Indeed, it was the sound of the ocean that pulled Din to consciousness hours later rather than you moving in your sleep. Filaments of his dream mingled with the noise, merging with the mythosaurs roar and confusing the warrior to whether he was awake yet or not.
All his muscles felt…loose. Achy. It was likely down to the fact he’d slept in his armor for the first time in ages, but the soft, firm mattress beneath him suggested otherwise. A comfortable bed highlighted aches a less forgiving surface – namely the floor – masked with its hardness. On the one hand, he was disconcerted by the comfort, but on the other hand, his muscles never felt so relaxed.
That was until he noticed you weren’t there.
At first, Din guessed it was because the bed was so big. In the Razor Crest, there was very little wiggle room for either of you on the single sleep mat you used. The bed you’d slept in last night was made for couples. Big enough for a man his size to fully enjoy his woman – in every position – without being impeded, while also allowing him to hold you close whenever he wanted. With all that extra space, he assumed you’d simply rolled over onto your stomach.
But when a searching hand found only the cold mattress and an empty blanket, he knew you’d been out of bed for longer than a few minutes to use the fresher.
His eyes snapped open, confirming your absence and his fingers curled into the rich maroon comforter he covered you with after slowly working you over the edge and filling you with his seed hours before. Sitting up, he groaned inaudibly under his helmet as his back complained at the change in sleeping arrangements. Part of him thought the mattress too soft, that he’d fall through it and never stop falling. He’d get used to it eventually, he hoped.
Your bag lay open at the side of the bed when he swung his legs over it, rolling his neck and shoulders to shake them out of their squishy state of relaxation. His shirt was missing – of course it was, the little thief – so he knew he wouldn’t find you wandering the house naked, unfortunately.
He had an inclination as to where you were and, after using the fresher himself, decided to go see if he was right.
Before he left the darkened room, he paused at the access button and instead pressed the button beside it. The shutters groaned behind him, from disuse and stiffness, but still parted slowly. They allowed early morning sunlight to pierce the sliver of transparisteel that only grew the farther the shutters opened until Din was standing at the edge of the world.
Taking a moment to appreciate the view, Din approached the transparisteel. On the second floor, the ground and cliffs were hidden. Only the endless stretch of sparkling ocean was visible from here. Back however many thousands of years, when space travel was only a dream and people were confined to the planet they were born on, Din could easily imagine that a sight like this was as awe-inspiring as the cosmos.
No wonder your people revered ocean gods.
Letting the sun soak the bedroom in much needed light and warmth, Din left to go and find you.
His first instinct had been correct, as usual. You were with the child in the room the little womprat had commandeered the day before. The one with all the helmets, distinctly more masculine than your childhood bedroom. A brother? Din didn’t want to ask where he was, knowing it wasn’t likely to be a happy answer.
The image of you both sleeping though, tugged at something low in his stomach. A yearning for a reality like this. Such things were perilous to dwell on, especially for a man like him. A Mandalorian. But he couldn’t deny that something tectonic had shifted in your relationship. Something that made imagining such things, roots and family and connection, so much easier.
It was a change so drastic, yet so silent, that it blindsided the warrior for a moment.
He sat on the edge of the bed now, unwilling to disturb the peaceful scene while mindlessly stroking the back of your calf that was exposed when you turned over onto your side. The muffled sensation of leather on your warm skin made him want to remove his glove altogether to feel that silky softness skin to skin, but in that moment, you stirred.
Yawning deeply – Maker, you must’ve been tired – you stretched with a feline arch, your arms over your head and a sound so candidly seductive, Din had to yank the chain on his resolve tighter.
Horny fucker, he mentally chastised himself. The kid was here. Not in his hover-pram, but quite literally sleeping in the bed with you. He couldn’t be giving into base desires just because his sex drive didn’t know when to quit whenever he was around you.
“Morning, kitten,” he rasped instead, noting the bleary smile of a woman not yet fully awake on your lips. One without the burdens you carried every day. Innocent. The vision was only solidified further by the content little noise you made in response, dropping your hand to his thigh plate.
“Mm, hey,” you sighed, voice deliciously thick from sleep, “sorry, I had to check on him last night…must’ve fallen back asleep.”
He wasn’t surprised.
Your bond with the kid was strong, as deep as any blood connection someone could have with a child. The simple fact of the child sleeping in a different room compared to the Razor Crest would be an adjustment for you both.
“It was a long day,” he agreed, squeezing the back of your thigh as his hand roamed back down behind your knee.
Groaning, you stretched again, disturbing the green alien beside you who grizzled awake.
“It’s gonna be a long one today too, I feel.”
You sat up, Din’s eyes drawn helplessly down to the way your stomach crunched easily beneath his shirt. Another intrusive thought, of how your stomach might look swollen and round, rose in his mind. Eyes heavy, he was far slower in banishing that thought away than the others when he lifted a hand to brush away errant strands of hair from your face.
“The Commander said your alor wouldn’t be back until tomorrow, right?”
“Mhm,” you confirmed, your attention more happily preoccupied with greeting the child as you picked him up to kiss the top of his head and let him wrap a clawed hand in the length of your hair, “gives us time to do a little digging ourselves, don’t you think?”
He couldn’t fault your logic.
Din didn’t know how politics on Pamarthe worked, but your alor seemed powerful and would likely be taking charge of any and all attempts to find the children. Your parallel investigation of Jedi activity would have to work around that stalwart force.
You let the child down so he could crawl haphazardly over to him, scaling the height of his thigh to gurgle happily at the stoic warrior.
“Morning, kid,” he stroked over one wrinkly ear while he half-listened to your stream of consciousness.
Your mind truly was an incredible thing. Having just woken up, he could practically hear the gears starting up and whirring to life, running until they were at maximum capacity as you plotted and planned how to make the most of the day. All the while sat cross-legged on the bed in an oversized shirt and your hair a mess from his hands.
You never looked more beautiful.
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“No.”
You rolled your eyes in exasperation at Din’s blunt response.
He was sat at the dining table, back to the wall with his blaster parts laid out in front of him. He was – needlessly in your opinion – cleaning his weapons. Again. You didn’t think there was another blaster in the entire galaxy in more pristine condition, than Din Djarin’s. Even during your Rebellion years, you didn’t think you ever saw a soldier take such care of his weapons. You cleaned your own blaster more than you used to, granted, but it was nothing in comparison to the Mandalorian.
“Good talk,” you huffed, passing him by on the way to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water.
There was the dull sound of him placing the piece he was cleaning back on the table. Quick as a serpent, his arm banded around your waist from behind to pull you back onto an armored thigh. You yelped, surprised by his speed and the strength of that forearm that kept you a willing prisoner against his hard chest.
“Okay, wait.”
His words rumbled through you, vibrating from beneath his chest plate and down your spine like perfectly polished river rocks caught in the current, “Ask me again.”
You really tried not to be charmed by his attempt to be more communicative. You really did. But he was trying, and that softened the edges of your impatience to nothing more than a fiore bun; round and squishy.
You puffed an exhale, your hand dropping to his forearm instinctively to keep it there.
“I think we’d get more done today if we split up,” you repeated the statement that initially had him refusing before you finished speaking, “you can go bring the Razor Crest to the hanger here, and I can go into town with the kid to pick up supplies we desperately need if we’re going to be staying here.”
Din grunted, his malcontent palpable as his fingers flexed into the soft flesh at your waist.
“There’s no need to split up for that.”
That was better than a no, at least.
“Isn’t there?” you frowned, wriggling within his hold to sit across his lap instead, better able to look into that achingly familiar T-visor, “You can use the jetpack to get to Stag Seaport way quicker by yourself than going the long way around on the speeders. I can do some digging while I’m in town without the spectacle of a Mandalorian distracting every doe that crosses our path from telling me what they know.”
Din’s ears pricked, you could tell by the slightest tilt of his helmet. His hearing was as sharp as his eyesight down the scope of a blaster, you should’ve known he’d pick up on it.
“Oh?”
The word escaped him in a purr. A deep gravel that, to any normal person, would sound like a growl. But that was just Din. Even his purrs were intimidating. You didn’t react, you’d only dig yourself deeper.
“Does, hm.” He hummed, running a wide-palmed hand up from your knee along the side of your thigh casually, “Do I detect a hint of jealousy in my kitten?”
Colour burst across your cheeks, heating them with the immediate mortification of being caught reacting so emotionally to such a harmless statement. You spluttered, rolling your shoulders back with indignant pride even as you sat preening on the lap of a man who could make you beg with the crook of a finger.
“That’s not what I meant,” you sniffed, looking down your nose.
Not entirely, anyway.
You weren’t the jealous type, but you were possessive. Pamarthen women, especially Carria does, were ridiculously attractive. As feminine and ethereal as the woodland creatures they were likened to. Flirting, casual sex, harems…they were all common aspects of Carria culture that might catch an off-worlder, namely a Mandalorian, off guard.
While Din might only be interested in you, his mere presence would set tongues wagging.
He was a warrior. He walked like it was big – it was – commanded a room like he knew what to do with it – he did – and wordlessly made lesser men submit like he could fuck their women better than them.
He could.
He was everything a Carria woman looked for. Stars, he was everything a Macteer woman looked for, and they were notorious for seeking only the strongest attributes in a mate. She-wolves were a force to be reckoned with at the best of times, they needed someone who wouldn’t crumble when they flashed their fangs.
“Mm…even if it was,” Din’s hand stopped at your hip, pulling your attention back fully to him when he lifted it to cup your jaw firmly and forced your eyes to remain helplessly on his visor where he could see the truth, “does are too skittish for me. I like my woman to roar, even if it is only a meow at times.”
How dare your stomach flutter at that.
You swatted his shoulder, nothing in the way of him seeing the fluster on your face with the grip he kept on your jaw. Damnable man. The chuckle he released was as warm as it was filthy. He knew exactly what he was doing to you, exactly what turned you on. Then his hand shifted to the back of your neck in a gesture more gentle – but no less possessive – so he could drop his forehead to yours silently.
Your cheeks still hot from his teasing, you tried to appear stern.
“I do not meow.”
How the comparison Biran made nearly two years ago stuck still boggled your mind. But the affection with which the Mandalorian crooned kitten to you was indescribable in its intimacy. Sometimes, you almost liked the sound of it better than your name, if only because he was the only one who called you it.
“You sure?” he teased, “I’m nearly certain that’s the sound I hear when you’re bossing me around.”
He tightened his hold around you pre-emptively in case you really did live up to your nickname and claw him to shreds. When your jaw fell to the floor, aghast, he couldn’t prevent the laugh from bursting under his helmet at your expression.
“That’s so rude!” you crowed, disbelief at your lovers audacity making the entire thing funnier as a laugh of your own threatened to escape your lips. You pressed them tight together to stop it. You needed to have some dignity.
His foresight had been correct – damn him – and when you squirmed to try and stand with what you considered righteous fury, his arms stopped you from doing much more than wriggling pathetically on his lap.
So much for your dramatic exit.
“Easy, kitten…” Laughter still lacing his tone, the breathy drop of his voice stalled you with its sudden heat, “keep moving like that, and we’ll get nothing done today.”
Oh.
You became aware of the slightly hardening length under you. Both your pussy and ass throbbed with awareness. He’d been inside both the night before on the shores of the sea. Stars, he hadn’t even filled your ass entirely before you came. You could only imagine what it’d be like when you were able to take him fully without restraint.
Your throat suddenly dry, you swallowed. A low growl – one you felt more than heard – rose in Din’s chest. It was like your thoughts were playing in a holovid for him to see, his intuition uncanny.  Maker, you were insatiable these last few days, both of you. Which was saying something. But as much as you wanted him to bend you over the dining table to go for round three, you had work to do.
A sneaky idea rose in your mind then, and you wiggled your ass again experimentally. His grip tightened immediately, a warning snarl rumbling in his chest. Biting down into the pillow of your bottom lip, you dropped your hand deliberately to the front of his flight suit.
Din’s growl of your name was a rare second warning. The last one you would get. Anything after that would be a well-deserved punishment.
“Mmh?” you hummed airily, your fingers tiptoeing lightly over the semi-hard shape of him. Not enough that he’d feel much under the thick duraweave, but enough to tease him the way he’d been tormenting you all morning.
“You know…” you continued seductively, nudging your nose into the carved cheek of his helmet and basking in the shuddering exhale you heard coming from under the lip, “if we split up, we can get back to this much, much quicker…”
“You sly fucking…” Din growled in realization, outmaneuvered  by your strategy. He couldn’t keep the faint hint of pride at the way you’d seamlessly manipulated the situation to get your own way out of his tone, though. What could you say? You weren’t a one-trick-pony, and seduction was an art form you eagerly indulged in all your life.
He didn’t even finish his sentence, sighing with a clunk as his helmet fell back against the wall in defeat. You didn’t think it was premature to give yourself another point in the tally, honestly you deserved two just for style.
“Fine. Fine,” he relented, releasing his grip on you and swatting your ass when you stood from his lap victorious, “we do it your way.”
With a bounce in your step, you continued on your way to the kitchen, flashing him a bright smile over your shoulder. He looked about as flustered as his armor would allow, and it turned your grin cheeky knowing you were the cause of it,
“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”
Leaning back in the chair, Din’s posture shifted arrogantly. His legs spread, you could easily make out the hard bulge of his cock straining against his flight suit and just like that, your fleeting moment of control evaporated.
“Not as hard as I’m going to fuck you the moment we get back, ner baruur.”
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You were right, as usual.
Using his Rising Phoenix cut the time it took to get to the spaceport almost by half. Your advice to follow the coastline, across the white cliff faces that cascaded down into the waves beneath, ensured he didn’t get lost amidst the disorienting scale of the sea or the confusing labyrinth of hills and forestry.
Small fishing vessels rocked gently on the water, Din’s helmet picking up the occasional shout from one of the men on board to another. Hauling great nets of silver-toned fish onto the deck, a line of conservation droids immediately began sorting through the catch rapidly. Finding egg-bearing females, the young, or other species that accidentally got caught up in the net and tossing them back into the ocean.
He wouldn’t be surprised if fish from that catch ended up in your possession when they made it to the fishmongers. You liked seafood, he recalled. You were always in a good mood on the rare occasion he landed on a planet that had any semblance of water on it, knowing it meant fresh fish for once. You’d been buying fish that day on Mynock before he made the journey to Arvala-7.
Din snorted under his helmet, dark eyes turning back the direction he was flying.
To think, he planned to avoid you. Fearing he’d end up in a sarlacc pit or something equally disastrous given how up until that point, your paths only ever crossed when he was injured. Din didn’t fear much then, bar his helmet being removed or dishonoring his Creed, and part of him now wondered if what he feared had been the feelings you nudged awake inside him.
Back then, they were nothing close to what they were now. Maker, it took months to even find his way to your bed, but those first encounters were like the first cracks of a crater before a volcanic eruption. An inevitability. There was nothing he could’ve done to stop it.
Fishing boats were eventually replaced by great vessels on their way to and from the seaport. What looked like several airship carriers sat docked on the horizon, flanking your clan’s territory with an impenetrable strength he found staggering. For one clan to possess all this…
Pamarthen clans were evidently much, much larger than Mandalorian clans. Perhaps, before the Great Purge of Mandalore, it looked similar, but he’d been too young, too…focused on his training on Concordia to notice.
He steered clear from landing directly in front of the Razor Crest, however more convenient it might have been. The area was technically an active spaceport and Din didn’t want to gamble of his abilities to outmaneuver X-Wings and cargo ships.
Instead, he landed at the foot of the bridge that connected the big island to the ports. It was a bit of a walk across, both durasteel bridges made for industry with a size to match. He could stretch his legs though, and casually observe those who passed him. In his line of work, he never knew who he might see or what odd behavior he might notice that would lead him to who he was hunting.
The Mandalorian didn’t quite know what he was looking for when it came to the Jedi, truth be told. Not someone who looked like the child, but something that embodied…magic? He didn’t fucking know. What did magicians look like? Did they wear cloaks and hoods? Did they levitate instead of walk? How was he supposed to tell the difference?
Wait.
A group of people passed Din on the other bridge and his eyes were immediately transfixed. They weren’t levitating, but everything else about them looked straight out of the mental image Din had been using this entire time.
Three figures, hooded and cloaked in coarseweave robes of a deep red, walked unhurriedly behind two armed soldiers. Their blaster rifles held to their chest on standby, they were donned in black combat gear and what looked to be dense, black chainmail covering their heads. The links fell like water down to their chest and possessed no discernible features – no eye sockets or mouthpiece – bar the way the mail settled over their faces. The peak of a nose and curve of a forehead, nothing else.
Was this the way outsiders saw Mandalorians? Surely not. His helmet concealed his appearance but gave him a name, a purpose. Those mail masks looked like they were made to wash away the identity of anyone who wore one. They didn’t look real.
These guys were just…walking around. After looking for so long, Din always assumed sorcerers existed the way the Tribe had; secretly. They might not even be sorcerers, but these guys looked like they knew shit about magic, and that was as close as he’d gotten since his journey began.
It was probably why his next move wasn’t as calculated as it usually would’ve been.
“Hey, you.”
Din called across the wide open space between the bridges, the audience roar of the water beneath turning the space into an arena. He approached the edge of his side slowly as both faceless guards turned, placing themselves between him and their charges.
He held up a hand in peace, the other hovering over the butt of his blaster should he need to draw it quickly. Neither guard lifted their weapon but kept them tucked to their chest, the barrel pointed down. Ready.
“A Mandalorian? On Pamarthe?” A voice rose in Basic from the group.
One of the guards jerked his head marginally, not expecting one of the robed men to speak. With some reluctance, he stood half a step to the side for the one who spoke to get a better look at him. Even with just a hood, the thickness of the material shadowed the man’s deeply wrinkled face effectively.
“In full regalia too, how rare.”
An uncomfortable feeling surfaced in Din’s stomach, like he was a wild, exotic creature kept in captivity by Core planets for their inhabitants to ogle and stare at.
Whatever assumption Din had about these men and their secrecy, was wiped clean when the one who spoke pulled his hood down, revealing an elderly human man with stringy, grey hair combed back from severe, heavy brows. His charcoal eyes set Din on edge, a strike of lightning tensing his spine with instinctive awareness.
“I have some questions for you,” Din responded, ignoring the obvious appreciation the man had for his armor. This was nothing new for a Mandalorian.
The two figures that remained hooded looked towards each other, unfazed by his words. The man with the unnerving eyes arched one of those thick brows, thin lips twisting into some semblance of a smirk.
“I understand you’re not from here, Mando,” he explained slowly, raising Din’s hackles from the condescension in his tone, “and whoever sent for you has obviously given you a wasted journey, I fear. But we are not questioned by anyone.”
“That’s about to change,” Din retorted, he’d had bounties like this before. Big fishes in small ponds that shit themselves the moment he struck back. He didn’t need to waste actual energy into scaring people, their spines were usually brittle enough to snap from a growl.
But something about these people did unnerve the Mandalorian. The way he knew not to underestimate the reinforcements gang affiliates could call to overwhelm him with sheer numbers rather than skill. They obviously knew that too, because the grin never left the robed man’s face.
He merely reached back to pull his hood back over his head, a leer of contempt shining in those flat, black eyes when he turned back the way the group had been walking before Din interrupted, “We shall see about that, Mandalorian.”
One guard kept him in his sights, flanking the rear as his companion led the group away. He didn’t turn back around until they were some distance away and even then, Din knew their muscles must be tense in anticipation for him to strike.
Part of him wanted to. To force them into submission and answer the questions he had. Two guards were nothing to a warrior of Din’s caliber and they knew it too. But something stopped him. There had been observers to this exchange, passers-by who slowed to watch and Din realized by their hushed whispers that he’d done something wrong.
One such person actually approached him, the whelp with the crush. Bryn.
“Mister, Mister Mando—” came the thickly accented greeting.
Maker give him strength.
Din’s eyes flickered to the boy, even as his helmet remained trained on the group slowly growing smaller the farther they walked away. When Bryn waved a hand in front of his visor though, thinking he hadn’t heard him, Din’s impatience won out, and he growled, grabbing the boy’s wrist to yank down.
“What?”
“Ow, ow ow—” Bryn complained from where Din had twisted his wrist subconsciously. The warrior released him with a click of his tongue, annoyed, “By Llyrian, you’re strong. Though, I’d expect nothing else from a Mandalorian…given the stories, but—”
“What is it, boy?” Din interrupted.
“I—well, I’d be careful with the Sentinels,” Bryn frowned, looking out towards the group Din had been contemplating jumping, “They’re a law onto themselves here, not a good idea to get on their bad side.”
The Sentinels…where had he heard that name before?
“I can handle myself, kid.”
Bryn’s hazel eyes widened at the perceived offence he’d caused Din, waving a hand in front of him, “Of course!” He mumbled something in Pamarthen, a rapid string of words Din couldn’t understand before rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, “I don’t know how to explain in Basic, but even the rhaer has limited power over them.”
Din arched a brow, unseeing to the boy who only had his stoic, unmoving helmet to go by. Now that was surprising. The same leader who had fleets of airship carriers and land far as they eye could see was not wholly in charge of certain people who lived on it? That was something he would have to ask you about later.
“I get it,” Din rumbled, Bryn still valiantly trying to describe such a niche topic in his second language, “thanks.” He tagged to the end, frowning when the young man smiled. Had Din ever been this green? This insufferably…hopeful?
Unlikely.
Bryn was young, likely only eighteen or nineteen years old. He hadn’t seen a fraction of the horrors someone even ten years his senior would have.
“No problem, Mister Mando,” Bryn puffed his chest, proud of himself.
“Just Mando, is fine,” The Mandalorian sighed, feeling a headache coming along already and desperately wishing he could remove his helmet to pinch the bridge of his nose in an attempt to stave it off.
"Mando, wizard." Bryn nodded, “What’s brought you back here so soon? Did you find Commander Carria last night? He came looking for you, but you’d already left by then. I told him you’d planned to go to the Tipsy Hart since I said that’s where I thought he would be but obviously not, since he showed up at the spaceport—”
“Picking up my ship,” he grunted in a desperate attempt to stop the talking and turned back towards the spaceport.
Was this what Din had to look forward to when the kid started talking? Thank the Maker he seemed to age at a snail’s pace so he’d have a few years before that hopefully started. His thoughts screeched to a halt, a mudhorn colliding with him when he remembered it didn’t matter when the kid spoke, he was going to be with his own kind, not Din.
It soured his humor further, and when Bryn took it upon himself to walk with him, Din almost took it out on the poor kid. But the realization that he wouldn’t experience the child talking the way Bryn was now softened the warrior marginally, enough to not shoot him.
“The Razor Crest, right? She’s very old,” Bryn continued conversationally.
Huh. Maybe he would shoot him after all. Did he speak so candidly about everything on his mind? Din wouldn’t like to know how women reacted if he told them exactly what was on his mind the way he was to the warrior now.
“Never call a woman old, kid,” Din heard himself say as they walked into the makeshift hanger where the Razor Crest sat, “Whether she’s a ship or the girl you marry.”
“Oh,” Bryn replied quietly, mulling his words against whatever it was that took up the mind of a boy his age.
Sex. Usually sex.
Din snorted, what was his excuse then? Age evidently didn’t matter, when a man had a woman like you in his bed night after night. How could he not think about your body, your sounds, your pussy squeezing every drop of come from him whenever he got the chance?
“No wonder Llysa got mad at me when I said she was too old to learn how to pilot a Mantaris…” he mused to himself, scratching the back of his head where two delicate braids met the tie that held his hair in a messy tail.
Oh boy.
Din stopped by his ship, typing in a code on his vambrace to drop the shields and open the ramp. The kid was a disaster and even worse, he had no idea he was. There was a call in Pamarthen from across the harbor and while Din couldn’t understand most of it, he recognized Bryn’s name.
The boy shouted something back jovially despite the impatience in the other man’s voice.
“I gotta get to work, but it was nice seeing you again Mis—Mando.”
Din dipped his head in acknowledgement, watching as Bryn started jogging in the direction the voice came from. Something compelled him to speak though, an effect that Pamarthens seemed to have on the warrior.
“Bryn,” Din called, partially hoping the kid wouldn’t hear him. No such luck. He looked over his shoulder at the Mandalorian, slowing down and Din snorted to himself. Annoying as he was, there was something refreshing about Bryn. While he hadn’t seen the terrors you or he had in the war, he represented a new hope for a future untouched by what happened.
“Encourage that girl to learn,” he rasped, dipping into the pot of knowledge he’d accumulated from you, one that grew larger by the day, “don’t underestimate her.”
Confusion crossed Bryn’s face and he wondered briefly if his words had fallen on deaf ears, but after a moment, an unguarded smile lit his face and the boy nodded. With a lazy salute as a parting thanks, Bryn left on his way back to work and despite not getting any information from the Sentinels, Din didn’t feel the entire journey had been a waste.
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It had been far too long since you and the child went on your own adventure together.
Fallow Ridge was the perfect spot for it.
You could’ve taken him to a village closer to the house, but that far north didn’t see much traffic and information would be harder to come by. Fallow Ridge was more central, about an hour away by speeder and boasted some of the best bakeries on the island. Located just off the main artery of roads leading to the Seat, it wasn’t uncommon to see members of other clans passing through on their journeys.
After Din had taken off to Stag Seaport and double checking your comms still worked in case he needed to find you, you bundled the little alien into his brown satchel and were off.
You hadn’t been lying to Din when you said you’d need to pick up supplies. No one had lived in your house for over six years and apart from the things Kyr left for you, there was little more than mothballs and dust in the cupboards. Not to mention clothes. After Din had unceremoniously ripped one of your two remaining pairs of pants last night, you were in desperate need of new ones.
Parking your speeder just outside the low stone wall that marked the perimeter of town, you nodded politely in greeting to a group of young pilots half-dressed in the pants of their flight suits, sleeveless undershirts displaying the antlers of their Mark proudly against tanned skin. You wondered if you knew them, they looked young enough to have been children when you left – like Bryn – so the changes would’ve been drastic enough for you to be uncertain.
Cobblestone buildings sat on mismatched levels across the uneven terrain. Some further up on hills where small paths branched off from the main street, while only the roofs of other houses could be seen from where they were situated further down an incline.
The kid was mesmerized as the bustle of daily life overwhelmed his senses. A hum of chatter, welcoming and lively, mingled with the sounds of trade as people shopped, gossiped and generally appeared untouched by the ravages of a post-war universe.
But the scars could still be seen, quiet as they may be.
Absent figures, a disparity in the number of people your age compared to older generations, more cybernetic prosthetics than before from both the bombardment and returning rebels. Even the prices in the transparisteel of shops were higher than you remembered, significantly higher. But that’s what happened when you had a destroyed spaceport; trade became complicated and therefore, expensive.
“What do you say, cutie?” you looked down at your hip where the child was babbling happily with distracted grabs to anything and everything he wanted to explore, “Food or clothes first?”
It was a redundant question, the second the word ‘food’ left your mouth, his large eyes were sparkling with an excited coo.
“Good idea, maybe we can grab more fiore buns before they sell out for the day too.”
His ears wiggled eagerly, the memory of his small mouth blue from the berry jam inside the buns last night making you laugh quietly to yourself. You weren’t the only one who was a fan of them. Even Din seemed to enjoy the uniquely tart flavor, opting for a second without needing much convincing.
You wandered from stall to store, taking advantage of the freshness that came from an agricultural planet. The bakery – thankfully – still had fiore buns coming out of the oven and, after a sample, you left with a baker’s dozen. The kid complained when you stopped him from crawling into the bag to get at them, knowing there’d be none left if you gave him an inch.
When you got to the grocers – for preserved foods you were more familiar with on ships and other planets – you were suddenly struck by the reality that you weren’t on another planet, or on a ship. You were…here.
An emotion surfaced in you, one you weren’t able to translate into Basic. Hireach. A Pamarthen term with no real translation that was used to express both homesickness and nostalgia. It was a complex mix of melancholy and happiness, grief and yearning for something that still existed but was irrevocably changed.
You felt it as you followed familiar paths that were missing…something, and no matter how hard you tried to put your finger on it, the answer seemed to get more and more tangled, more indefinable.
It wasn’t necessarily a bad emotion, nor was it indicative of any great tragedy. Truly, to experience hireach was only possible when you had good memories attached to it. Hireach illuminated the irreverence of time, how your former life now fit like a shirt much too small. How it strained across your shoulders and back, not painful but…uncomfortable. No matter how much you rolled your shoulders and tugged at the material, it never seemed to sit right anymore.
“Hullo?”
You were shaken back to the present by the shopkeeper behind the counter. A bag of supplies between you, the woman looked at you with a mixture of confusion and caution.
“Sorry, I was klicks away, how much did you say?” you reeled off, scrambling on autopilot to regain your footing in the conversation instead of how strange it all looked and felt.
“Forty-seven credits total,” the woman smiled, the action tight and somewhat forced.
That was certainly different, but you couldn’t blame her for being mistrustful. With everything going on, it was no wonder people were on edge. Speaking of…
“Terrible business, isn’t it? The children.”
The seamless slip into what some might call ‘gossiping’ was familiar territory for the shop-owner, and it thawed the suspicion you’d garnered from your spacy attitude. Her shoulders relaxed and with a morose expression, she nodded.
“Aye, the poor wee things. May Amhra guide them home.”
“Amhra guide them,” you echoed distractedly, glancing around the shop.
“If she can’t, then the rhaer will,” the shopkeeper nodded confidently, ringing up the credits you handed to her and talking about your childhood friend as though he were a god among men, “I don’t think there’s a man on this planet more determined to find them.”
Her confidence in Kyr comforted you. Hopefully, the rest of Clan Carria held the same sentiment. It was one thing to be perceived as a ruler, but it was better still to be seen as a guardian. And Kyr Carria was the embodiment of the lone stag watching over his herd; silent, observative, strong.
Who else did that sound like…
“I’m sure he’s doing everything he can,” you added to the conversation diplomatically.
“Lot of lions coming through these parts too, looking for Skyla,” she handed you your change, “and nothing against them personally, but where was that urgency when our fawns went missing?”
There was an edge of frustration in the woman’s tone, her brows furrowing with a downturn of her lips. The friendship between Clan Carria and Clan Leyghin was strong, but it wasn’t immune to skepticism and misgivings. Skyla Leyghin’s disappearance was treated differently because she wasdifferent. Regardless of how equally tragic it was for any child to go missing, the only daughter and heir to the most steadfast clan on the planet was a devastating blow.
“Hopefully, with so many people looking for her, they’ll find the others too,” you navigated the statement carefully, empathizing with her annoyance but put in an awkward situation of being tied to both clans intimately.
She mulled over your words, nodding curtly in response, “What chance do any of those wee fawns have, if they’re only a secondary thought?”
It was your turn to pause, considering her rather…wise observation. Uncomfortable as it might be, you couldn’t deny the truth behind it.
“Kyr cares, they’re not second in his eyes,” you said by way of answering because truthfully, you didn’t know how to answer her. She was right, and it made you more uncomfortable as both a medic and as someone who now knew what it was to love a child. It had always been this way though, but absence from your planet had enlightened you to the reality that you didn’t agree with it.
“I believe it’s Rhaer Kyr to us,” the shopkeeper corrected you coolly, her eyes turning suspicious momentarily, likely contemplating either your view on him or relationship to him, “we don’t all address him so familiarly anymore, keep that in mind.”
Bantha balls.
He was just Kyr the last time you were here, he’d always been just Kyr. But he wasn’t, was he? He was descended from gods, if the stories were to be believed. He now sat as ruler of Clan Carria, one of the most powerful clans on Pamarthe. He was never just anything, you had simply lived your life so close to the sun that the light and heat became normal.
For the first time, you experienced a burn for flying too close to it.
“Right…” you trailed awkwardly before giving your thanks to the shopkeeper, parting with her as politely as possible as you left the store.
The child was getting fussy in the satchel by the time you dropped everything off in your speeders saddlebags, bored and you figured there wasn’t any harm in letting him stretch his little legs.
“Wanna walk for a bit?” you asked, lifting him out to place on the ground beside you. You could do with a slower pace for a while.
After stopping by a small media store on a whim that – thankfully – had different holovids of Moray and Faz than the one the child already had, you spotted two pylbucks and their riders walking down the main street.
Their fur a beautiful copper color, ivory horns curled back from their heads. One had a splodge of white in the middle of its head carriage, and the other a splatter of white over its left eye. They must have been by the same sire. Powerful bipedal legs with ivory talons similar to their horns clicked along the stone with every step and the child was utterly enthralled by them as they grew bigger and bigger the closer they came.
These weren’t just regular pylbucks either, these were bred with a specific purpose in mind. Intimidation and control. War. That meant the men riding them were guards themselves, dressed casually as one held the reins loosely in one hand while he carved something. His pylbuck shook its head with a grunt, short mane catching the sunlight. The rider – unperturbed – looked up from his work and leaned down to pat the long, wide neck of his mount affectionately.
You, however, were more curiously distracted by the striped tattoo where Carria antlers usually were around the bicep. With a variety of lengths and width, the double-loop emulated the stripes of an apex predator.
Pamarthen lions.
These were some of Attycus’ men.
“You’re far from the Hearth,” you exclaimed pleasantly as you came within earshot of the two soldiers.
“Quickest way to the Snags,” the younger of the two men called back, bringing his pylbuck to a halt beside you and flashing you with an easy smile.
“To the search party?” you asked, inattentive to the soldiers smile. These two might have more information.
“Aye,” the second soldier stated, “we’re part of their relief.”
 Kyr was due to return tomorrow, that made sense. To have a relief party though, meant they’d had no luck in finding the children thus far, which wasn’t likely to change by morning. You tried not to let your disappointment sink into despair at the thought.
“Has there been any news?” you ventured to ask, perhaps a little too nosily but you’d never gotten anything in life from sitting pretty and passive.
The soldiers appeared amiable though, and you didn’t feel the need to be totally on your guard around them. The older of the two, a handsome man with long blonde hair streaked with silver sat up straighter in his saddle where he’d been reclined as he whittled something small and beige in his hand.
“Nothing yet, miss.” His grey eyes followed the child as he waddled closer to his mount and tried to reach for one of the pylbucks’ short, raised front legs, “It’s like they’ve all just vanished into thin air.”
“How is that possible…” you wondered aloud, crossing your arms at the paradox of the situation.
“That’s the scary part,” the younger soldier added, propping his heel up on the saddle easily to rest his elbow on it, “it shouldn’t be possible.”
“Aye, but there were cases like this before,” the blonde mentioned, dismissing the younger man’s quizzical look, “during the first Galactic war, lots of kids all over the galaxy went missing inexplicably.”
“Yeah, but that was a war,” his partner answered with some impatience, as if this wasn’t the first time it had been brought up, “and it wasn’t just kids, people in general were never heard from again. Killed in combat, sold to the Hutts…there were more ways to go missing than trees in Siodam’s Forest.”
You listened intently, taking a leaf out of Din’s book and gathering more information by observing and absorbing than inserting yourself into the conversation. You had to agree with the younger soldier, it was like comparing Gungans and the Naboo; they were nothing alike. The situation during the Galactic war was widespread, and indiscriminate. What was happening now was intentional, calculated.
“Careful,” you crouched to scoop the child up when one of the pylbucks noticed the little menace tugging at the fur closest to its talons, causing the creature to try shake the tickle away.
Your movement pulled the soldiers attention back to you from where they were debating the situation amongst themselves. The younger of the two frowned in confusion, glancing between the child and you and likely trying to reconcile the logic behind the pairing. The older man merely smiled, crow’s feet and laughter lines revealing themselves on his features.
“Don’t let that cub out of your sight, miss,” he rubbed his unknown craft on the rough leather of his thigh to polish it of any splinters before leaning down from his pylbuck to hand it to the kid, “both our clans have lost enough already.”
The child eagerly took whatever the man gifted him and when you caught sight of the roughly whittled lioness mid-stride, you were reminded of all the good that had been overshadowed by your apprehension in coming home. Where men defended their lands with the same knife they use to craft toys for children.
The little bogwing was enamored with his lioness, keeping her clutched tight in his small hand and babbling incomprehensibly at the soldier who listened attentively. He must have been a father himself, his patience that of a parent willing to listen to the same thing over and over.
“Thank you,” you translated, running a hand gently over the top of the bogwing’s head, “may Siodam lead you down safe paths.”
Both soldiers dipped their heads graciously at your words and with a nudge of their heels into the side of their mounts, they took off again. The child waved happily after the men, shaking his new toy in hand. They left you in a far happier mood than you were when leaving the grocers, light refracted kindness banishing the shadows momentarily.
Walking with a lighter step, you veered down one of the paths off the main street. You only had to untangle the lioness twice from where the child had somehow managed to get it wrapped in your hair. You were still extracting a few strands as you bumped the door open into a little known boutique hidden amongst the glades. Sewn by Saeda.
It sold the most comfortable, most flattering pants you’d ever owned. There was some witchcraft in the way the material shaped your ass and thighs, and you’d happily thank Saeda for selling her soul in order to procure it.
A bell – ancient and unusual – rang overhead with a gentle tinkle.
A woman looked up from her work at the noise, flashing you with a welcoming smile as she draped the measuring tape she’d been using around her exposed neck. Shiny, onyx hair was gathered in a messy nest atop her head and flyaway strands framed her face in a way that was usually carefully crafted by stylists, but you knew immediately was natural.
She was a beautiful woman. Olive skin practically glowing with deep, moss green eyes rimmed in thick, dark lashes. When she stood, you wondered if she had any bones at all, and wasn’t just pure, fluid energy with how effortlessly graceful she was.
“Welcome! Is this your first time here?” she asked pleasantly, her accent difficult to place, but likely from the more southern archipelago. Where the clans of Olvaer and Tahru resided.
“The first in a long, long time,” you admitted on a chuckle, letting the child down once you were certain he was preoccupied with his lioness and wouldn’t get into anything he wasn’t supposed to.
“Ah, you were probably expecting to see Saeda,” the woman sounded somewhat apologetic, “she’s semi-retired now, so I help out a few times a week. You can call me Zyra.”
It would be easy to dislike Zyra simply for being beautiful. Maker, you’d faced enough prejudice and contempt in your field for the same reason over the years. But there was something inviting about the woman, something genuine in the way she spoke. She inspired trust, whether it was in fashion advice or something deeper. She was probably one hell of a saleswoman, that was for sure.
You offered your name in return, a moment of recognition flashing across her eyes before it vanished and she moved around the counter to help you.
“What can I do for you and this adorable little guy today?” she asked, her question making you glance around the store that was teeming with selection. More than you’d seen in a long time. For so long, scrubs, a uniform and more practical clothes were all you wore, it was what you were comfortable with.
“Honestly? I’ve had more clothes destroyed in the last few months than I ever grew out of as a child,” you admitted, the atmosphere Zyra created in the shop making you feel equal parts at ease and confident.
Her brows rose, a sparkle of curiosity lighting her eyes, “For only good reasons, I hope?”
Yeah, you liked Zyra. No banthashit and with a sense of humor. The flush on your cheeks was answer enough, the other woman clapping her hands together once with an excited thrill.
“I know it’s contradictory as someone who makes clothes, but when a man rips them off…” She fanned her face lightly, her skin flushed.
You snorted, making your way over to a table where a variety of sizes and colors of the pants you wanted were neatly folded.
“Okay, yes—but I literally have one pair of pants left,” you complained, laughter lacing your tone as the ridiculousness of the situation made you giggle. You had just met this woman, and yet here you both were, talking about how you liked it when men tore your clothes off.
“Good!” Zyra sniffed from the other side of the table where she was checking for your size without even needing to ask you it, “That keeps me in business, give him my thanks!”
You both burst out into peals of laughter, the small store filled with the noise and you were infinitely grateful that there was only the two of you. Anyone else who walked in would think you both lunatics.
“Actually, I have just the thing for it—” she clicked her fingers while you were wiping the corner of your eyes from getting into a kink of laughter for the last few minutes, “wait here.”
Your brows furrowed lightly when Zyra disappeared in a flurry to the back of the shop, leaving you with the child who was sitting on a small stack of pants you picked out, patting the soft material. His ears were drooping, a clear indication that the day was catching up on him and your new clothes were tempting him to make them his bed.
When Zyra returned though, you hoped he had dozed off with the way your lips parted and face heated at what she brought out.
Could it even be considered clothes? Of course not, you chided yourself, it was underwear. Beautiful underwear, but definitely not something to be worn outside the bedroom. It would be a travesty to cover it up with clothes.
The sensual black set was beautiful enough on its own, classic and understated, but your eyes were drawn immediately to the delicate silver chains that looped in loose layers down the halter-neck of the bra and beneath the bust. You could practically feel the coolness of the metal on your skin, how good it would feel when you were overheated from lust.
But that wasn’t the thing that made you blush, your mind emptying. The matching suspenders were shaped to define and exaggerate your hips and thighs, and it reminded you of something you were certain wasn’t on Zyra or Saeda’s mind when they made it.
Your holster. Namely, the one Din gave you. The same one that drove him feral every time you wore it. Maker, the man had fucked you a few times when you were wearing nothing else. Made of the same black lace and chains, you reached forward to trace one of the silver hoops, mesmerized.
It had been a long time since you wore anything remotely like this, not since you enlisted. There’d never been a reason and then, there’d never been an opportunity.
“Well?”
You jumped when Zyra spoke, the excitement in her voice hushed with anticipation when she saw you admiring the set. Blushing, you dismissed the idea of buying it. You didn’t need it. Maker, you never ended up wearing much at all where Din was concerned, and he wasn’t a man who needed a visual aid to get horny.
Your pitiful excuses fell on deaf ears as Zyra hooked her arm around yours to lead you to a floor length mirror. You could’ve dug your heels in, but your resistance was paper-thin, and you followed her.
“Feeling beautiful is as good a reason as any to spend credits,” she explained, placing the hanging set in front of your body so you might get an idea of how you’d look in it. She didn’t need to, you were honest enough with yourself to know you’d look good in it.
“But if you do need another reason, there’s only two for why a woman buys this set, in particular.” Zyra continued, piquing your curiosity as she handed you the set for you to feel how unbelievably soft it was beneath the lace.
“Oh?” you prodded.
“Either it’s for a man who’s lucky to have you and needs to be reminded of that fact,” she smiled over her shoulder at you on your way to where the child was snoozing on your stack of clothes, “or it’s for a man who knows he is, and deserves to be rewarded.”
Well.
You smiled at her, recognizing you’d discovered a friend in this new landscape of your old life which was a far rarer find than a set of beautiful lingerie.
“How can I argue with that logic?”
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Missing.
Missing.
MISSING.
Dirt kicked up and staining strong legs. Pacing, pacing, pacing but no one. Not there. Gone.
GONE.
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You heard the screech before you saw it, coming up to the house at twilight. The setting sun cast a low light that mixed with purple shadows on the land and turned it into a dream. Or a nightmare.
The noise pierced the skies, sending flocks of nesting birds out of trees. It was like a dying animal, or an enraged one. A primal scream of anger that made your eardrums quake with pain and woke the child from where he slept on your lap.
And there it was, racing across the fields of nerfs grazing in the distance at a speed unnatural even for the species it looked to be.
A pylbuck.
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Notes
Llyrian – Pamarthen god of the sea.
Amhra – Pamarthen goddess of the wind and weather, wife of Llyrian.
Maldo Kreis – a terrestrial ice-covered planet where Din crashed the Razor Crest in Part 1 of the New Republic Arc, and in S2E2 of canon lore.
Rhydian – readers older brother who died during the Battle of Malastare in 4ABY.
Hoverball – an intergalactic sport I liken to baseball. I had initially wanted to use get’shuk as the sport Din referenced given it is a Mandalorian sport (similar to rugby) but given that reader was unlikely to know what it was, would make poor Din’s joke fall like a lead balloon. We couldn’t have that.
Fiore buns – a sweet roll filled with bright blue jam and glazed with milk and honey.
Clan Macteer – one of the three sister clans of Macteer (the barrow wolf), Blayd (the maned wolf) and Shunak (the fiore fox). Did you know! The Fiore fox which represents Clan Shunak was called as such because of the blue that tips its ears and tail, allowing it to hide amongst the fiore without being seen
Conservation-droids – something of my own creation, though I’m certain something similar exists somewhere in the lore!
Sentinels – druidic sect of Pamarthen culture, more to come on these guys.
Mantaris – short for a Mantaris-class amphibious medium transport, this iconic ship capable of adapting to atmospheric flight, realspace and underwater. Developed through a co-operative effort between the Naboo and the Gungans to colonise aquatic moons in their orbit, I have transplanted a similar type of ship onto Pamarthe given it is also a predominantly aquatic planet. Quick note, the Mantaris is one of my favourite ships in the entire SW lore! It’s design is beautiful and the creativity behind it truly added something wonderful to the visuals of The Phantom Menace.
Kyr Carria – leader of Clan Carria, around 8-10 years older than reader who knew him growing up due to the friendship between his younger brother Kai, and readers brother, Rhydian. This friendship became something more briefly when reader was around nineteen.
Hireach – I took inspiration for this term from the beautiful Welsh word hiraeth that I learned many years ago in school. It carries mostly the same multi-layered meaning. It’s been described as a combination of homesickness, longing, nostalgia and yearning for a home you cannot return to, no longer exists or maybe never was. It can encompass grief or sadness for who you once were or what you lost. All tied in to the losses of your home not the same as you once remember it. It’s honestly one of the most beautiful words I’ve ever come across.
Moray and Faz – A holoshow cartoon for children. I have assumed that it was popular around the time of, or just before, Stitches as it’s recorded in lore that Han Solo used to let his son, Ben, watch it.
Pylbucks – these are ungulate creatures of my own creation while taking inspiration from the many, many variations throughout SW lore. The closest in appearance, and thus in name, are the kybucks native to Kashyyyk. Master Yoda famously owned several kybucks over his long life, and was known to have an affinity with them.
The Hearth of the Lion – the seat of power for Clan Leyghin, one of three lone peaks dotted across the Pamarthen landscape.
The Snags – nickname given to The Grey Wildlands by locals. An impenetrable area of Siodam’s Forest where speeders, ships and even humans struggle to pierce. A single mile can feel like ten with branches grabbing hold of your skin and clothes, slowing you down and concealing your path.
Clan Olvaer – clan of the solar bear located in the south-eastern islands, more tropical and sandy than the more stormy, rocky islands of the north.
Clan Tahru – clan of the tahg, a horned bovine, similar to a water buffalo.
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daddydindjarin · 7 months
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The Nymph from @djarinsbeskar’s Here, There Be Monsters: The Minotaur
I am absolutely obsessed with this story (and everything that you write, let’s be honest), and I cannot wait to read more!
Note: this is my interpretation of the Nymph, and not a reflection of anyone else’s views or interpretations of her!
16 hours in Procreate
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Breakout - Round One
Pairing: Boxer!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Summary: When former boxer turned trainer Joel Miller reluctantly agrees to take on this year's favorited newcomer, he expects the bad-tempered rookie to bring him plenty of headaches. What he doesn't expect is that he'll also bring him you.
Rating: Explicit 18+ (By proceeding to read beyond this warning, you are agreeing that you are 18 years or older)
Series Content: Alternate Universe - No Outbreak, Explicit Smut, Age Gap, Secret Relationship, Workplace Shenanigans, Jealous Ex, Risk of Getting Caught, Fighting (Obv), Teacher/Student Dynamic, Best Friend's Dad
Word Count: 7.2K
A/N: This got away from me, she says, surprising no one. Next part will be out on August 16th! Thank you to my western wife @frannyzooey for continuing to be the best beta, and to @astroboots and @djarinsbeskar for planting this thot. Love you.
Masterlist  | Series Masterlist | Round 2
Joel has never been a big fan of his birthday. 
At least, not since he was a kid. And even then the day had always seemed to be more of a hassle than anything else, his mama frantically trying to cram in a birthday cake and candles between her shifts. Maybe even a trip to the record store with his topped-off pocket money if he was lucky.
And Joel was. He knows he was. She had done the best she could for him and Tommy, so that even if they’d never had plenty, they’d always had enough to keep them from going hungry.
Still hadn’t stopped him from sometimes wanting more. 
On the day Joel had turned fourteen, he had walked himself down to the local H-E-B and gotten a job doing whatever they’d let him do. Naively sure that he would finally feel what it felt like to have money until his first paycheck had come, and it had barely been enough to help with the bills let alone to have some to stash away. 
Joel had tucked every dime into his mama’s purse while she slept on the couch that afternoon before he took Tommy with him and started going door to door. Offering to mow lawns, paint houses, fix fences… Anything he thought he could successfully stumble his way through while the radio and his younger brother played nearby.
Losing count of the number of jobs he held before he hit graduation, Joel took pretty much anything that would allow him to scrape together enough to cover the tuition for University of Texas and the gas to get him to and from campus. The first couple years slipping by during a balancing act of work schedules, class lists, and whatever few hours of sleep he could manage after he had helped Tommy with his homework and then finished his own.
Still Joel had somehow made time on his 21st birthday to drop into some of the local bars around Austin, a guitar slung over his back and a lingering hope in his chest that he might actually get to put his foot one step closer to what he wanted.
“Not looking for any new acts right now, although I am looking for a new door guy,” the owner of the seventh place he tried had told him while giving Joel a critical once over. “The crowds can get a little rowdy on the nights we have bands in. I need someone who makes them think twice and who can break it up if they’re not thinking at all.”
“Right,” Joel had muttered, crossing his arms against his chest as he thought it over. Couldn’t be any worse than some of the fights he’d had to pull Tommy out of since grade school. Definitely couldn’t be any worse than tarring roofs in the Texas heat. “Probably could handle that for you.”
“By the look of you, I think you’re probably right,” the owner had said with a pleased nod, clapping Joel on the shoulder before heading towards the back office. “Come on, you can fill out the paperwork.”
Joel had his first fight his first night on the clock. His delusions about getting, at the very least, to spend the night listening to music and potentially making a few connections going up in a cloud of cigarette smoke as soon as the first fist had attempted to connect with his face. Suddenly tarring roofs hadn’t seemed so bad.
A few months into the job, Joel had walked back into the bar after putting yet another drunk out on the sidewalk to find a man in a suit waiting by his station at the door. His immediate thought being that the guy must be talking to someone who definitely wasn’t him until he had side-stepped directly into Joel’s path.
“Hey, kid, mind if I talk to you about something real quick?”
Kid? When was the last time anyone had called him kid?
“Will just take a second,” the man had reassured him, completely unbothered by the continuing chaos around him. “I have an opportunity for you.”
The opportunity had been a chance to see if Joel could cut it as a boxer, the man rambling on about how he thought Joel had both good instincts and decent control. Neither compliment had peaked Joel’s interest like the mention of prize money, however, until he reminded himself that he had no desire to spend any more time getting his face bashed in than he already was.
“Think about it,” the guy had said, tucking a business card into the front pocket of Joel’s denim shirt as he’d looked with a small frown at the new tear in Joel’s old jeans, one of several courtesy of the pavement outside. “Could change your life.”
“Right,” Joel had said, glad at least that Tommy wasn’t there to jump at the offer and create yet another mess he’d just have to clean up. “You enjoy your evening.”
Joel had walked away after that, already needing to intervene in another scuffle that was about to turn into a brawl, but when he had gotten home that night, he had tossed the card onto his desk instead of into the bin. Left it there right up until the day when he found out that an impulsive one night stand had turned into a lifelong commitment.
“Hey, this is Joel… Miller. The bouncer from the bar?” he’d said into the handset, trying to keep his voice low so that neither his mama or Tommy would hear downstairs. “How much money are we talking about?”
Joel could still swear he’d heard the guy grin, his stomach bottoming out because he knew he was being a sucker. But he also didn’t know what else to do. 
“Depends on you, Joel,” the voice had said on the other end. “All depends on you.”
Well at least that much he’s always known.
*****
Twenty years after Joel had agreed to hear a full sales pitch, he checks his watch and walks into the gym still wondering what he could have done differently. How he could’ve avoided serving a life sentence amongst the thud of punching bags and the creak of boxing rings, the smell of chalk and sweat, the overwhelming annoyance that comes from dealing with overinflated egos.
Such as the one that must belong to the jackass that is currently sprawled out on the old couch in Joel’s office like he owns the place, the twenty-something clearly visible through the front glass with his feet up, his eyes closed, and even a goddamn cigarette in his mouth.
Joel takes a deep breath, fingers flexing around the rim of his half-empty to-go cup of coffee as he envisions dragging the intruder out by his ear, and he’s about to step forward right up until he sees the gym owner step out of his office a few doors down, the grin on his face making Joel feel anything but cheerful.
“No,” Joel says before the other man can even get a word in. “Absolutely not.”
“Now, hold on,” Charlie Hunter says, raising an eyebrow at him and jerking his head in the direction of his own office. “Will just take a second.”
“I don’t babysit,” Joel responds, keeping his feet firmly planted where he is. “You know that.”
Charlie smiles again, starting to sidle over with the same inability to take No for a final answer now that he had all those years ago. Slicked back hairstyle and suit might be the same, too.
“Would you just hear me out?” Charlie asks once he’s close enough to Joel to let the noise of the gym cover their conversation. “This one’s the real deal. He just needs someone to train him up a bit.”
“The last person you needed me to train a bit threw a tantrum in the middle of the ring cause his opponent hit him too hard,” Joel reminds him, his irritation growing at just the memory. “We agreed after that I was done wasting my time. Give this one to someone else.”
“I can’t give him to someone else,” Charlie insists, crossing his arms so that Joel can make out just how thin the elbows of Charlie’s suit coat are getting. “I had to promise him you just to get him in the door. It was that or he was going to go to the Fireflies.”
Joel’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing as he stares Charlie down and tries to determine if he’s just playing him because he knows how Joel feels about that particular rival gym. 
In response, Charlie holds up his hands as if to say, “Would I lie to you?”
Yes. Yes, he would.
“Listen,” Charlie tries, switching tactics when Joel continues to remain unmoved. “This isn’t just some kid.”
Joel looks back through the front glass of his office, just in time to see the cigarette slip slightly in the rookie’s mouth as he lolls his head to the side in his sleep. 
“Everyone,” Charlie continues, missing the impending fire hazard while his focus stays on Joel, “and I mean everyone thinks he’s going to be the second coming of Christ.”
“Just don’t make gods like they used to, I guess.”
“Joel.” Charlie’s voice turns nearly pleading, enough that Joel looks at him again in surprise before he continues, “We need this. Could mean some actual money coming in again.”
Just once Joel would like that to not work on him. To have that sort of privilege.
Instead he sighs, remembers the skyhigh pile of bills waiting at home, and he rubs the back of his neck with the hand that’s not still clutching his coffee. “How much?”
Charlie’s apprehension fades from his face, the lifelong shark back as he says. “Twenty percent. I’ll give you twenty percent of the gym’s take.”
Joel snorts, very nearly insulted. “Then you can also give yourself a new trainer.”
He starts to turn, knowing Charlie will stop him and he does. This little song and dance is as much a part of their relationship as all the other bullshit.
“Thirty.”
Joel sips from his coffee, but otherwise says nothing.
“Fine,” Charlie concedes again. “Thirty-five.”
What Joel wouldn’t give to tell him to fuck off. To turn back around and walk out the door and just… 
“Deal.”
They shake on it, Charlie taking it one step further by giving Joel a solid clap on the shoulder before he turns and walks back to his office, stopping in the doorway before he shouts back, “Oh, and happy birthday.”
*****
Is this really it?
You swipe back and forth between the address in your text and the one in your maps app, your eyes flicking up once more to the broken down building to your right after you’ve confirmed it. 
“It’s not that bad,” you mutter to yourself, sitting in your car and attempting to reconcile the legendary reputation that your boyfriend Tyler had gone on and on about with the boarded up windows and faded paint of Hunter’s Gym. “Just needs some TLC.”
Even as you wonder how far you could get in an afternoon with a pressure washer and some fresh paint, you can practically see Tyler rolling his eyes at you, hear the offhand remark he would make about how you always need everything perfect.
It’s not that. Not really. It’s more that you get a hum in your blood when you get to see the difference it makes when things are taken care of. Old furniture, old houses… even the occasional neglected house plant you rescue from the garden store. Green leaves and thriving roots again with nothing more than some new soil, fresh water, and a spot in the sun.
Your attention goes back to your phone, quickly typing the words Hunter’s Gym into the search bar and waiting for the results to load at a devastatingly slow pace. You’ve needed a new phone for ages, your current one purchased back when you and Tyler were both consistently holding down a job but that’s been some years ago now. In fact, it has been at least a year since Tyler has worked a regular shift at all. Too busy chasing his dreams to clock in and out.
You let your head drop back against the headrest, giving up on your phone and tossing it into the passenger seat in frustration. 
It’ll be worth it in the end. We’re getting closer. It won’t be like this forever.
But, God, it feels like it. 
Once, you and Tyler had been high school sweethearts running from your small town to the big city, starry-eyed and aching to find the kind of life you would never have been able to back home. 
And at first it felt like you had. 
Your tiny downtown apartment had felt like freedom just like takeout containers eaten cross-legged on the living room floor had felt like a feast, one big adventure that had landed you both right where you were supposed to be back when all you had needed was each other.
But that was five years ago… Five years of working the same terrible schedules at the same terrible restaurants. Five years of wondering if this would be the month you didn’t make rent. Five years of just waiting. You are so tired of waiting.
You snatch up your discarded phone again, see the page is still trying to load just before you check the clock in the dash. Fifteen minutes past the time when Tyler told you to pick him up. 
You look at the door to the gym, fingers tapping on the steering wheel. 
You are just so tired of waiting.
*****
Joel leans against the ropes of the corner ring, watching the so-called second coming of Christ otherwise known as Tyler bounce around like he’s too afraid to stand still. 
Step. Step. Jab. Duck. Uppercut. Step. Step. Duck. Counter.
Undeniably the kid does have ability, his ongoing winning streak in low-level matches proof of that, but for as much as he is quick and somewhat powerful with his movements, he has little to no technique. Something he seems unaware of since every time he throws a punch, he looks to Joel to see if he’s impressed. Clearly showing off but not in the way he thinks.
Christ, the attitude on this little shit.
When Joel had finally made it into his office earlier, Tyler hadn’t even cracked his eyes open until Joel had shut the door loudly behind him. A ripple of satisfaction passing through him at the way his new trainee had nearly jumped out of his skin, although it had been quickly followed by more irritation when the kid had actually tried to take a swing at him.
“Shit,” Tyler had sworn, his eyes widening as Joel effectively swatted the punch away and shot him a warning look. “Fuck, the Joel Miller in the flesh. Sorry about that. Those instincts, you know?”
“Right,” Joel had said, stepping around the kid and setting his now lukewarm coffee down before he stood behind his desk with his hands braced on its surface. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your beauty sleep.”
“I had a fight last night,” Tyler had told him, his tone still amiable though Joel is certain he didn’t imagine the way Tyler’s eyes had briefly sharpened. “You remember what that’s like.”
The corner of Joel’s mouth had twitched, his feelings not the least bit hurt by the rookie’s poorly concealed attempt to humble him. Retired or not, Joel was confident the odds would still swing in his favor based on that first punch alone. 
And now that he’s seen the first few dozen…
“That’s enough,” Joel tells Tyler after a few more minutes of agony, still debating if the potential paycheck will be remotely worth it. As if he has other options. 
“Come on over here.”
Tyler jogs over with a smug look on his face, pulling his gloves off and tossing them carelessly to the ground while he waits expectantly. “So?”
Joel ducks between the ropes as he climbs into the ring himself. “You self-taught?”
“Yep,” Tyler says, the confidence rolling off of him. “Amazing what you can learn from watching old fight tapes.”
“Amazing,” Joel agrees, although with not nearly the same inflection as he walks to the center of the ring. “Your footwork is shit.”
“My footwork?” Tyler looks down at his feet as if expecting them to spontaneously show him what Joel could possibly mean. 
“Dancing around like that isn’t going to keep you from getting hit,” Joel tells him, setting his feet apart and transferring his weight from side-to-side to demonstrate. “All it’s going to do is wear you out.”
“It’s worked just fine so far,” Tyler counters, squaring his shoulders. “That’s my style.”
Joel smirks. “Your style. It’s your style to lose?”
*****
When you walk into the gym, it’s almost exactly what you expected.
More faded paint and cracked concrete floors, posters that have been hanging up so long that the images on them are too faded to make out, exercise equipment that is most definitely out of warranty and currently completely unused.
Instead everyone is gathered over in the back corner, standing around a boxing ring as two figures square off in the center. 
One of them you’re positive is Tyler. Something you think you could tell from any distance. His opponent on the other hand…. The closer you get, the more he’s the one you can’t stop watching. 
Tall and broad in his jeans and t-shirt, his wavy dark hair is paired with a short scruffy beard that frames an intensely set mouth. Not quite a frown although his brow is deeply furrowed in concentration above his eyes.
Unlike Tyler, he hardly moves. Stays on the balls of his feet as he steps cleanly out of the way of each punch that Tyler throws before coming back center. 
Each time he does, the other onlookers give whistles of support, sometimes mixed in with claps and calls of “Nice, Joel!” and “Show him how it’s done, Miller!”
Even without being able to see Tyler’s face, you know the effect that it will all have on him, the evidence in his increasingly erratic throws. 
“Come on,” you shout as you jog up to the sidelines. “Come on, Tyler!”
Although Tyler shows no sign of having heard you, Joel’s eyes do flick your direction, deep brown and an eyebrow raised above in curiosity as you meet his gaze. Neither of you look away until he’s forced to dodge another blow, this one so uncontrolled that Tyler stumbles. A few unsteady steps forward that he fails to fully correct before he’s swinging again, and you almost close your eyes to avoid having to see him go down onto the mat. 
Shit. 
While Tyler thumps his fist against the ground in frustration, there’s a collective round of applause, the small crowd dispersing before Joel even has a chance to extend his hand to help your boyfriend to his feet. 
“I’m good,” Tyler tells him, avoiding the offered hand as he gets up and brushes himself off. “I won’t take it easy on you next time, old man. Surprised you can still move like that.”
Always the gracious loser, you think, feeling your cheeks go hot with embarrassment on his behalf. 
“Didn’t really have to move much. Just had to be ready,” Joel tells him, his breathing even while Tyler is panting. “All that energy you waste on your style is energy you won’t have to put into your punches. And that’s going to matter a hell of a lot more when you start fighting people who really know what they’re doing.”
Joel turns away, walking your direction so that he can slip between the ropes and back out onto your side.
God, he’s even bigger up close.
“Hi. I’m Joel,” he says, holding out his hand again and unlike Tyler you take it while offering him your own name in return. 
“I’m Tyler’s girlfriend,” you say, pointing back in his direction to strengthen your explanation. “Good, um, good fight. Not sure I’ve ever seen someone win without actually throwing a punch.”
He smiles a bit. “Thanks.”
Joel looks back towards Tyler, your boyfriend back on his feet but currently still glowering in the middle of the ring. “Be here at seven tomorrow morning, and we’ll get start— ”
“Oh, could it be earlier?” you say quickly, bringing Joel’s attention back to you. “I’m his ride, and my first job starts at six thirty so… Do you know what time he’d be done? I can swing back at lunchtime but then my other job starts at two.”
You expect him to look at you like you’re the world’s biggest pain in the ass, but instead he offers you a small smile that nearly looks reassuring. 
“Sure. Six and noon.”
“Great, glad we got all that worked out,” Tyler snaps, snatching up his gloves from the floor before he also steps out of the ring. “Let’s go.”
Tyler storms off towards the exit without another word, and you do your best to offer some sort of apology to Joel before you trail after him. Not catching up until he’s already out by the car and tapping his foot. 
“You going to unlock it or what?”
You roll your eyes at him before pressing the clicker and walking over to your side, wincing at the way he slams the door hard enough to make the car shake. 
“I’m sorry that you lost,” you tell him once you’re in the driver’s seat. “Who was tha — ”
“You should be sorry,” he says, pointing a finger in your direction. “You distracted me.”
You stare at him, so surprised that it takes you a moment to stammer out a quiet, “What?”
“It would have been fine if you hadn’t come in there shouting. I had it handled.”
“If I hadn’t — I was supporting you.”
“Yeah, well, next time just stay in the car.” 
Tyler looks away, his arms folded across his chest as he stares out the passenger side window, and you keep your eyes front so he won’t see the hot angry tears that are on the verge of spilling over. 
He doesn’t mean it, you think as you put the car in drive and pull away. He’s just mad he lost.
Without intending to, you find yourself glancing back at Hunter’s Gym in the rear view. Its drab exterior fading away even though the question you had tried to ask doesn’t. 
Who was that?
*****
From the moment Joel steps through the front door, he knows she’s there. Busy in the kitchen from the smell and the sound of it, and sure enough when he rounds the corner from the hallway, he finds her at the stove.
“Happy birthday!” Sarah exclaims when she sees him, his daughter dropping what she’s doing to come over and greet him with a warm hug. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
“I could’ve cooked. You didn’t need to go to the trouble,” Joel tells her as he gives her a squeeze, peering over her head to see that she has fixed some sort of chicken dish from a nearby printed off recipe. “How was school?”
“Fine,” Sarah assures him, returning to her task only after she has shooed him towards the table. “Just statistics and chem today.”
Well into the start of her junior year of college, Sarah had already been gone when Joel woke up this morning, off to morning classes before she went to her job at the bookstore and came back. As she had the previous two years, Sarah had opted to stay at home this year instead of in the dorms, a relief to Joel not only because he likes still having her around but also because it helps with some of the cost of school that he is covering. 
He may not have made it through with his degree but so help him fucking God, his baby girl would. Even if it meant him needing to train the biggest asshole that he’s come across in quite some time. Which reminds him… What the hell was a guy like him doing with a girl like that? 
Used to sizing people up for a living, Joel had automatically done the same with you as soon as he’d noticed you ringside. Interested to see if you would be able to give him any additional insight into what made Tyler tick.
Unfortunately for all involved, he hadn’t had much luck there. Although what he had determined was that while Tyler’s personality had managed to grate on his nerves before they’d even been in the same room, yours was far easier to be around. Sweet even with the way you’d come in to cheer for the asshole, the way you’d clearly given a damn about him despite the fact that he obviously hadn’t appreciated it…
“Dad? You okay?”
Joel’s head jerks up, and he realizes he’s been standing with his hand on the back of the kitchen chair, gripping the wood so tight that his knuckles are turning white. 
“Yeah, sorry,” he says, trying to shake it off as he drops into the seat instead. “Was just thinking about something that happened at work.”
Sarah frowns as she looks back over her shoulder at him again. “Anything bad?”
“No, no, it’s nothing,” he tells her, but then he groans, “Shit, I forgot. I didn’t stop by the store on my way home. You wanted stuff for cake. I’m so – ”
“I already got it,” Sarah cuts in, tilting her head in the direction of the box mix waiting on the counter. “Thought you might not remember so I stopped yesterday. I rented us a movie, too. As is tradition.”
She smiles at him, and he smiles back, hoping she can’t pick up on the guilt that swirls in his stomach at the reminder that she is used to him letting her down.
He’s tried not to. He’s tried so fucking hard.
“Oh, hey, before I forget, I got an email from Uncle Tommy,” Sarah tells him, her smile turning to one more hesitant. “He said to wish you a happy birthday.”
Joel rolls his eyes, deciding right then to go get himself a beer from the fridge. “That’s nice considering he won’t even answer my texts… If it wasn’t for you, I’d probably have to haul my ass all the way out to Wyoming just to make sure he’s still breathing.”
“I don’t think they have cell phones where he’s at,” Sarah tries, not quite defending him but then she’s always had a soft spot for Tommy. Everyone has a soft spot for Tommy. 
“I think it’s like some place off the grid or something,” she continues. “At least that’s how it sounds.”
“It’s a commune,” Joel says, exasperated all over again as he takes a long pull from his drink. “Just leave it to Tommy to go backpacking to quote ‘clear his head’ after quitting the Fireflies only to wind up in a fucking commune.”
Sarah snorts, laughing and shaking her head. “At least he’s happy, right? Doing what he wants to do?”
Joel nods, biting back his retort about how nice that must be. Never wanting his daughter to think he had any regrets where she was concerned. 
He’d do it all over again to get her, but there was also still a part of him that wondered when or if he would ever get a chance to... To be that selfish. Just once.
“Dad?” Sarah asks again. “You’re sure you’re okay?”
Joel nods, takes another drink. “Yeah, baby girl, I’m just fine.”
*****
The first few weeks that Tyler spends training at Hunter’s Gym are some of the worst of your life.
Irritable, sulky, and constantly sore, your boyfriend is a dark cloud that hangs all throughout the apartment. Hard to move or even breathe around for how easily he’s set off, which is why you have a growing list of topics that you just avoid for the time being.
What would you like for dinner? No go. Can I take a look at your cuts? Absolutely not. What can I do to help? Hell no.
“Nothing. You can do nothing,” he complains, dropping into the upholstered chair you had just spent the entire weekend cleaning and restoring while still wearing his gym clothes. “Please stop asking.”
You bite your lip, trying not to focus on the sweat, dirt, and blood that are currently staining into the delicate emerald green fabric. “Tyler, you know… If this isn’t a good fit. We could try a different…”
He stares at you, and you know you should have known better than to even start to suggest it. 
“You think I can’t do it? That what you’re saying?”
You sigh, your eyes going to the ceiling for a moment so you don’t have to see the self-pity that is a constant on Tyler’s face. “No, that’s not what I’m saying. Of course, you can. But sometimes people just don’t click and maybe you and Joel – ”
His eyes flash, and now you’ve really done it because of all the topics that are currently off limits, Joel Miller has to be at the very top of the list. 
“It has nothing to do with us not clicking,” Tyler asserts, his tone making it clear that he thinks this should be obvious. “The dude is just a dick. He’s washed up, and he’s taking it out on me because I’m not. He knows I’m better than him.”
You press your lips together and turn away, not trusting yourself to say anything as you let your fingernails dig into your palm because you have an insane urge to just laugh.
Better than him? Than Joel Miller? 
Even though you weren’t a boxer yourself, you had been around the sport long enough by now to know that Joel is good. Really good. You had thought so even before you’d taken a couple hours on your day off to go to the library with the hope of figuring out just who exactly had so easily put your boyfriend through his paces.
What you had found was article after article on Joel’s boxing career, glossy high profile shots of him on the front page of sports sections, interviews where reporters asked him about his technique, his training… his ruthlessness.
Joel Miller is ruthless.
That sentence in particular had come up over and over and over again, paired with recitations of his opponents, his scores, his titles. All the fights he won that he shouldn’t have. All the times he was left standing in the middle while his opponent was laid out at his feet.
For all the articles you combed through, the ones with his picture were always the ones that gave you pause, made you lean in close to the screen to try to make out all the details of his face that had been captured mid-fight and to match them to the ones you’d seen several times since that first day.
There was something different when you compared the two. Something beyond the steady changes that come with passing years, but you couldn’t quite put your finger on it, and you still haven’t. Though you haven’t stopped trying.
In truth, you look at Joel far more than you should. Look forward to catching a glimpse of him far more than you should too considering he’s the bane of your boyfriend’s existence. But the truth is… you like him.
Not in a bad way, you quickly try to explain even if it’s just to yourself while keeping your back to Tyler as you walk into the small kitchen and start putting together something for dinner. 
No, not in a bad way. Just in a…
Several times now you’ve been into the gym to pick Tyler up, usually when their training sessions are running long and you can no longer stand to just sit in the car. The air and the radio turned off so that you don’t have to waste gas like you’re wasting your time.
Each time, Joel has greeted you with a small smile and a nod, grabbed you a nearby folding chair and a cup of water for while you wait without asking. Started adding a protein bar too after the time he had heard your stomach audibly growl, and you had been forced to admit that you hadn’t actually had time to eat anything yet that day.
“Thanks,” you had muttered, still feeling a bit embarrassed as you took a grateful bite that tasted like chocolate and peanut butter. Your embarrassment only growing when you realized that his attention was making your stomach swoop. 
It’s only because unlike your boyfriend, Joel never seems annoyed to see you there. And how ridiculous is that… That all it takes is for a guy to look at you with warm brown eyes and a calm, not-quite smile, and all you want to do is melt because you can’t remember the last time your boyfriend even said thank you let alone offered to get you something as small as a fucking protein bar.
You slam the fridge door harder than you mean to and when you look over, Tyler has lifted his head to look at you. A small frown on his face as he takes you in and asks, “What’s your problem?”
You, buddy boy, you almost say. You’re my problem.
But instead you say nothing, not mentally or emotionally up to an argument when you’re already tired from a long day and so is he.
This is just a rough patch, you tell yourself instead. It’ll get easier. It has to.
Tyler used to light up when he saw you. You used to be the last person he wanted to let go before he went into the ring, the first person he’d look for in the crowd. 
It’ll get better. It’ll go back to that. You just need to get through this, and it’ll get better.
Right?
*****
You’re late.
Thirty minutes past the time you’re supposed to show up when, by Joel’s memory, you haven’t been so much as tardy since you first started bringing the dickhead you live with to and from the gym. Dropping him off in the morning on your way to work and then coming in to watch the last few minutes of Tyler’s training before you pick him up. 
In truth, Joel is never happier than when he hears the door open and sees you standing there. Only because that means his time is up. That’s all it is. Your arrival means his obligation is fulfilled until the next time he has to spend hours listening to Tyler argue with him about everything from proper form to proper conditioning.
How do you put up with it? 
You shouldn’t have to, and more than once he’s had a mind to tell you so just before he reminds himself that your business is your own even if he’s taken an unwise interest in it.
It’s just… You’ve got such a kind, sweet way about you. A smile on your face when you walk in even though he can tell that you’re tired, pretty eyes that meet his whenever he does even the smallest thing for…
Pretty. Christ, what the fuck are you doing thinking she’s pretty?
Joel shifts in his stance at the edge of the ring, crossing his arms tight across his chest as he watches Tyler spar with another fighter from the gym. Doing better this week than he has in any of the ones previous but still with a long way to go and still with his greatest attribute being that he has such a huge fucking chip on his shoulder that he refuses to let himself lose.
Checking his watch and then the door again, Joel watches them for a few more minutes before he finally turns away and snaps out, “I’ll be back. Keep going.”
On his way to his office, Joel can see Sarah still sitting at his desk and working on one of her papers. Having decided to come in with him today and hang out for a while so she could also use the gym to workout, she glances up when she sees him coming, her brow creasing with worry at whatever expression he must have on his face.
“Has anyone called?” he asks as soon as he’s got the door open. “Anyone called this morning to say they were going to be late?”
“Uh,” Sarah’s nose scrunches up as she looks at the Post-Its by the phone. “No, but Charlie dropped off a few names for you. Some new potential clients?”
Ordinarily that need would be more welcome than it is at the moment, a sign that even if training Tyler was his penance than his reward was that others were also noticing the improvements and wagering that maybe Joel could do the same for them. 
“No, not a new client. Would be a, um…” Joel trails off, suddenly feeling unsure how to describe you to his daughter. A large part of that likely being that you must be only a handful of years older than her. Although why that should matter when all he’s asking is if you have called is beyond him. What the fuck is wrong with him today?
“Nevermind,” he says, ducking back out and heading for the front door. Long, ground-eating strides as he wonders if something happened with that car you drive, the thing clearly on its last legs, although he’s fairly certain he could fix it up a bit and get it running better if you’d let him. Nothing major but it wasn’t as if Tyler was going to do – 
Joel nearly gets clocked by the door when it swings open right as he reaches it, his reflexes kicking in just in time to avoid a black eye although not quick enough to get him out of the way before someone collides into him.
“Sorry, sorry,” says a frantic voice against his chest, the recognition kicking in before he looks down and sees you, and his fucking stomach clenches.
“Sorry, I, um – ” you start to say, your breathing quick as you get your feet under you again and push your hair back from your face. “Sorry, work was really busy and I was the only one who didn’t call out and I got out late and I was almost here but then I realized that I forgot Tyler’s lunch so I went back home but I couldn’t get the door open cause the landlord still hasn’t fixed it and I…”
You seem close to tears, flustered and upset, and even if Joel belatedly realizes that he has a steadying hand on your upper arm, he doesn’t let go as he tells you, “Nothing to be sorry for. You okay? Are you hurt?”
“Am I hurt?” you blink up at him, and he can see then that you have been crying. The sight clawing at his chest as he wonders where the fuck this landlord is and if he might move a little faster with the right persuasion. 
“No, I’m – I’m fine. Sorry, just a… just a bad day.”
You’re still looking up at him, so close to him that he can see all your features more clearly than he usually can. And he was undeniably correct earlier, you are pretty. 
While his eyes stay on your face, you take a shaky breath in, steadying yourself just as your own gaze drops to his mouth for a fraction of a second. Your lips parting before you just as quickly glance away, and he’s left to think of a scenario where you didn’t. 
What the fuck is wrong with you?
“Where, um, where’s Tyler?” you ask, another much needed reminder for whatever mixed up thoughts are currently swirling around in his head.
Yep, that’s right. She’s your client’s girlfriend not to mention the long list of other reasons why you shouldn’t even be looking at her.
“He’s – ” Joel clears his throat and steps back, trying to get his head to clear along with it.
“He’s over in the corner ring,” he tells you, angling himself in that direction and waiting for you to fall into step beside him before adding, “He did alright today.”
“Oh.” You look relieved. “That’s great. He’ll be in a good mood then.”
Joel frowns, not liking how that sounds. “Is he normally not?”
“No, I mean. You know Tyler,” you try to smile as you fluster again, and now he really doesn’t like it. “No, it’s – You know. When it doesn’t go well in the ring….”
Joel does know, but he also knows he did everything he could not to bring it home with him. Not to let the person he was in the ring come anywhere near the person he was out of it. Come anywhere near the people he had out of it.
“Sorry, that sounded bad,” you tell him quickly, pushing your hair back again but not meeting Joel’s eyes. “Trust me. It’s fine.”
“It’s not. It’s not  – ” Joel starts to say, making you look up at him just before a third voice chimes in from a little ways deeper into the gym.
“Babe, what are you doing here?” Tyler asks, walking towards you with a friendly smile while Joel reluctantly moves a few paces away and pretends to occupy himself, still keeping you in the corner of his gaze. 
“What do you mean?” Your brow knits together in confusion. “Sorry, it’s been a long day.”
“I told you I’m going to lunch with a few guys from the gym,” Tyler says to you, immediately making Joel wonder who he had possibly roped into spending more time with him.
“No, you didn’t tell me that,” you say, your voice unsteady but low. “When I dropped you off this morning, you didn’t say anything about that.”
“I did. You just weren’t paying attention.”
“Tyler,” you say, sounding as exasperated as Joel feels. “You did not tell me that. If you had, I wouldn’t have nearly killed myself getting over here just to — ”
“Look, can we argue about this later?” Tyler asks, cutting you off with a sigh and taking a new phone out of the pocket of his shorts before he begins to tap away. “I need to go get changed.”
Joel can practically hear his teeth grind together, his fists clenching at his sides. This — 
“Fuck you.”
Before Joel gets any further, your so far unseen snap of temper comes as both a surprise and a fucking delight, your words echoing in the gym as you shove the bagged lunch hard at Tyler and turn on your heel. The chorus of low whistles and murmurs of support accompanying you as you walk right back out the door.
For his part, Tyler appears unaffected, rolling his eyes and tossing the lunch into a nearby bin on his way to the locker room.
As for Joel’s. He knows he shouldn’t go after you himself, but…
He also doesn’t think he can just watch you leave.
1K notes · View notes
604to647 · 3 months
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Fics that Live in My Mind, Rent Free (Pedro's Version) - Part 1
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Happy NYE! 🥳🥳
I read so many wonderful, hot, gut-wrenching, unforgettable, inspiring Pedro Pascal character fanfics... and I haven't been reblogging them 🫣 (it's me, hi, I'm the problem it's me). Don't hate me please - reblogging gives me so much anxiety, and I'm not even sure I could articulate why if I tried - and I see a lot of the discussion/discourse/posts re: reblogging and I truly understand all perspectives although it just seems to elevate my nerves about even more.
However, I understand the impact and moreover, I want to do it for the writers that bring me so much joy and inspiration, so I endeavour to try. I want to make it clear that this is a personal hang up of mine, and I have 100% absolutely no comments on how anyone else engages here; reblog/comment/like or don’t per your own preferences and you have nothing but love from me 😘
So it will be a 2024 personal goal of mine to be less shy about reblogging, but while I work up my courage/practice, I wanted to go back and compile a list of some of my fave Pedro boy fics; I think of each and every one of these fics often and have revisited them all (i.e. Exactly the fics I should have reblogged when I read them). I went deep in my likes so some of these fics are quite old; you may have already read them all! If you have or haven’t, I hope you love them as much as I do!
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Din Djarin (The Mandalorian, GOAT)
Boxer!Din AU by @djarinsbeskar (Boxer and his masseuse, who relaxes him in more ways than one. I've mentioned before that this is the first Modern Din AU I ever read and it's cemented itself as one of the best. Making Safest with You Din an ex-boxer is my humble homage.)
Freu(Din)an Slip by @saradika (Is there space porn in the SW universe? Yes.)
Bare by @charnelhouse (part of an AU between Din and bounty hunter!reader; other favourite instalments include Come and Conquer and Din's Ex)
A Bond to My Soul by @whiskeynwriting (King!Din and reader, with a battle just outside the doors)
Mine also by @whiskeynwriting (Jealous Din, no need to say more)
Beloved series by @groguspicklejar (Din falls in love with Cyare; mind the tags - the writing is rich and the emotions deep)
Courting by @writerlyhabits (another Mandalorian tries to court you and Din's having none of that)
Hold me down by @starlightmornings (Din as your weighted blanket)
Be Mine by @spacecowboyhotch (Glove kink)
Save a Speeder, Ride a Mando by @sprout-fics (I love fics where Din is jealous of Cobb)
Helping Hand and Did you miss me? by @mellowswriting (Din smut and fluff; they're in love, okay?)
Fix you by @roguetonorth (Comforting Din)
Rough Day by @no-droids (I think everyone knows about this fic; Sweet Girl!Reader holds a special place in my heart)
Take me to Church by @frannyzooey (Western AU; seriously one of the hottest and most romantic series I've ever read. I cried several times 🥹)
Flowers & Sex by @221bshrlocked (Din and innocent!Reader)
Show me by @moralesispunk (A bounty gets mouthy)
Patience by @oscarseyebrow (Starts with cockwarming)
Close Quarters by @absurdthirst (One bed/bunk)
Reunion by @heybluechild (Breaking in the N1)
Significant by @softlyspector (Din calls Reader "Riduur"; I love, love, love Mando fics with lots of Mando'a; so much care is always taken by the writers to translate and weave the words into the story)
Din takes out his frustrations by @ourautumn86
Javier Pena (Narcos)
Burn for Me by @theshireisburning-so-mordoritis (Reader teases Javi; it backfires)
Use me by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Javi is frustrated)
Needy by @wheresarizona (Reader is going to be late for work 🤭)
Reader brings Javi dinner at work by @forthetears
Joel Miller (TLOU)
Bad Girl by @seventeenpins (The first in a hot stepdad!Joel Miller series)
The Boss' Bunny by @talaok (The first in a series about QZ criminal boss Joel and his insatiable bunny)
Help! I'm Stuck! by @nosesitter (Oof! Father-in-law!Joel Miller and his OF daughter-in-law; 2 in the series so far)
Stripped by @thot-of-khonshu (Mr. Miller goes to a strip club)
Stay in Bed series by @psychedelic-ink (Neighbour Joel, pre-outbreak)
A Man Like Him by @valerinaswriting (No one should question Joel's abilities)
Mine by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Reader wears Joel's shirt on accident)
You Are My Cinema by @itgetsdark-x (Camgirl!Reader)
An Afternoon with Your Dad's Best Friend by @elvinaa (I mean, it's in title 🤭; I actually always secretly wish for a sequel to this one)
Come and get your love by @sunflowersteves (Sunshine!Reader)
Francisco "Catfish" Morales (Triple Frontier)
Kinktober 2022 - Erotic Photos by @moralesispunk (Reader gifts Frankie a Polaroid camera)
Thirds by @haylzcyon (Reader visits new boyfriend Frankie at work)
Grass is Greener by @haylzcyon (Frankie mows the lawn)
Kinktober 2022 - Overstimulation by @flightlessangelwings-updates (This was my introduction to pussy eating king Frankie)
Cabin in the woods by @guess-my-next-obsession (The cabin is spooky but Frankie is there to take care of Reader)
Double Feature (and all of the Box Set Universe) by @frannyzooey (Frankie and Reader love movies)
Pero Tovar (The Great Wall)
Little Red's Shadow by @littlemisspascal (Werewolf!Pero 🥹)
In my dreams by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Princess falls for a mercenary)
Tim Rockford (Merge Mansion, all 48 seconds)
A Sight for Sore Eyes and Sir by @ozarkthedog (Semi-public sex)
Anything you say can and will be held against you by @jksprincess10 (Workplace rivals)
An Important Appointment by @boliv-jenta (Sex worker!Reader)
Marcus Moreno (We Can Be Heroes)
A present by @radiowallet (Lingerie prompt; Cat writes some of the best Marcus Moreno fics on here imho. This one is my personal fave)
First Date by @absurdthirst (Workplace FWB)
The Date by @wardenparker (Professor!Marcus but also Marcus on a motorcycle)
Part 2 of list
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dins-riduur-anthe · 7 months
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DIN DJARIN - PAZ VIZSLA - BOBA FETT
PREGNANCY / BREEDING KINK RECOMMENDATIONS
They’re protective, loyal, providers… force of nature feral. Reproduction/foundlings are part of their Creed. This Is The Way
Thank you to the writers for sharing your work 🙏🏻
All recs are probably 18+, be aware of warnings, etc… Some synopses may be story spoilers, sorry.
ADDING MORE AS I GO ✶ MAIN MASTER LIST
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DIN DJARIN SERIES
SUNSHINE @zialltops
Post Mandalorian series, Din settles on Navarro and enrolls Grogu in school. And falls for the teacher hard. Reader is a teacher with glasses who loves gardening… secret past. Din has a glorious breeding kink, possessive/protective, pregnancy…DARK LUKE…
BESKAR DOLL @justagalwhowrites
Din + ex Naboo handmaiden who is wanted by the Empire. Cargo to much much more. So prolific and exciting! Slow burn, eventual pregnancy
BEST KEPT SECRET @lincolndjarin
Bodyguard Din + unhappily married princess on Naboo… her husband is to be king, is a monster, but luckily not yet interested in her. She and Din grow closer, rules are put in place, being found out would be deadly…
STITCHES @djarinsbeskar
Grumpy, gruff, hardened Mandalorian Din + lady medic that is so hot it will burst into flames. Portions of series events, but takes off on its own action and adventures. This is not a fluffy sweet Din OMG. Eventual Din’s breeding kink emerges
WRITER SPOTLIGHT! @absurdthirst
FROZEN SERIES Din + Lady reader and Mandalorians obsessed with breeding and pregnancy
THE RETURN OF THE MANDALORIAN Din + Lady reader have a night together before he leaves on his quest to find his covert. He returns to find the reader pregnant with his daughter…
NEW DESIRES Part of the HIDDEN DESIRES SERIES, having decided to keep the reader plugged with cum until it takes, Din has the Armorer forge items out of beskar that is not armor…
THE EVENT HORIZON series on AO3
Din + self conscious plus size reader, she becomes the child’s nanny, attraction, he buys her dresses!, pregnancy and Din’s breeding kink. (This series is left hanging and unfinished 😬)
SECURITY @dindjarindiaries
Prolific series of Din + princess of destroyed planet, marriage, pregnancy, adventures…
KEEPING SECRETS @drewharrisonwriter
Din + lady reader discovers she is pregnant and fears telling Din thinking that he’d leave her. Cara helps talk her through it, adventure forces the truth to come out…
VERD’IKA on AO3
Lady reader wakes to war on her doorstep and flees in her ship to whatever coordinates she hurriedly enters. Arrives at an unknown planet, escorted to a covert and learns the way of the Mandalorians with the help of Din… 17 chapters, but a quick read, finished series.
NOTHING IS WRONG and NOTHING IS WRONG: IN ABSENTIA on AO3
Din + lady reader who he discovers injured while collecting a bounty, bring her aboard the Crest so she can heal… quick and fun read through chapters, slowish burn, Mandalorians are all about reproducing, eventual pregnancy…
@omgreally ‘s stories
WOULD YOU Din and reader discovering their desires
WITH YOU In the Crest with time to kill, pregnant with Din’s baby
MY GODS ARE NOT KIND TO LONELY MOTHERS @fanfreakinfiction
Din, during a difficult time, spends a night at a brothel with a virgin woman. Months later he has a dream of her, pregnant and in distress. Grogu helps lead him to her, finding her on a backwater planet climbing up a mountain to give birth…
**Heavy rating alert for Darkest Din series below, read series warnings 🪦🕊️**
WHISPERS IN THE DARK @kewwrites
This is uber dark Din capturing a lady reader against her will, some Stockholm syndrome, abusive, pregnancy… too much? (but that’s what we’re here for 🤤)
TO TOUCH DARKNESS @djarincore
Dark Din under the influence of the Dark Saber and having just let go of Grogu to Jedi training, becomes obsessively possessive of the reader fearing she could leave him
FALLEN GODS and AFTERMATH @divinehedons
Din leaves his working partner as she is captured and tortured. They meet again and he takes her to atone for his wrong doings…
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DIN DJARIN SINGLE STORIES
RETURNS on AO3
Din reveals his breeding kink while injured and reader is patching him up.
LACTATION @supernaturalgirl20
Short story with a little bit of everything beginning with leaking breasts…
BESKAR BRACELET on AO3
Din + wife have been trying for a baby for some time. During a Mandalorian festival Paz gives them advice and keeps Grogu occupied for their privacy, She’s the daughter of Obi-Wan, they have Jedi children.
BREEDING on AO3
Lady reader puts herself up for sale to pay off her parents debts. Sold to Din for his very specific purpose… single story, would be an interesting expanded story
MANDAL’OR DIN @divinehedons
Mandal’or Din sees his riduur hold a new born baby…
WRITER SPOTLIGHT! @charnelhouse
YOU BECAME ALL THE THINGS I WISHED FOR, ALL THE THINGS I HOPED Short of Din + Lady reader who discovers she’s pregnant.
YOUR HEART IN MY HANDS Birth of the baby, domestic life with new baby, Din, and Grogu.
THE REST. Twins! And a sprinkling of reality with a house full of babies
OVULATION SCENT Din can smell when you’re ovulating and is eager to take advantage of the opportunity…
HAZY DAYZ @theywhowriteandknowthings
Reader exposed to sex pollen and Din helps her through it…
BRED @saradika
Din and reader drop Grogu off at school on Navarro and go about their day. At pick up the teacher refers to the reader as Grogu’s mom and Din goes feral with the thought of breeding the reader…
FILL @say-al0e
As Din and reader are saying their goodbyes to Cobb Vanth, the reader and Vanth continue to flirt to irk Din. When they return to the Razor Crest it’s time for her punishment and to remind her who she belongs to…
CREED @wheresarizona
Din and his wife have never taken their helmets off in front of each other… until today. Din is insatiable about having babies
PARTNERS @pedge-page
You’re bounty hunting partners with Din, but feel pretty helpless and useless except for your sexual situation-ship. Frustrated you’re ready to leave him and a night at the bar sets him ready to claim you for good
**Heavy rating alert for Darkest Din stories below, read warnings 🪦🕊️**
THIS IS THE WAY on AO3
One shot story of Din kidnapping teacher to mother Grogu and potential children
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PAZ VIZSLA
Mirror mirror on the wall, Paz has the biggest breeding kink of all
PAZ + PREGNANT RIDUUR @sprout-fics
Just a short and sweet snapshot of Paz as an adoring father and his pregnant wife.
BREAKING THE RULES on AO3
Reader is a Mandalorian tired of staying indoors and decides to sneak out. Paz finds her and brings her into his quarters for “punishment”. Consensual throughout. Paz has a huge breeding kink and reader becomes pregnant…
ACHE @maybege
Paz + wife with a baby is having trouble with over abundance of milk - Paz to the rescue! A+O dynamics, Paz is eager for baby #2…
LONESOME NO MORE on AO3
Paz comes home after being away for 6 months…
CABUR @whiskeynwriting
Paz + reader who he marries and she is pregnant with Ragnar
WARRIORS and ARMY @getwrecktwriting
Shorts of Paz’s feral breeding kink in action 🤪
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BOBA FETT
HOMECOMING @thefact0rygirl
Boba returns home to reader who’s been instructed not to touch herself for 7 days…
FAMILY @say-al0e
Boba has his private quarters in his palace where only the reader and Fennec are allowed to enter. The reader and Boba have been together for some time. On this day the reader’s implant was removed but could not be replaced until later- they decide they want children together…
THRAWN
THE GALLERY @thrawns-babygirl
Royal Imperial Gallery curator, attending a gala, you desperately need to secure funding. You meet Thrawn and invite him for a sneak preview of the next exhibit…
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Looking for Joel Miller, Javier Peña, and other Pedro characters pregnancy and breeding kink recommendations ? They’re now in their own list here
New! CAPTAIN JOHN PRICE pregnancy and breeding kink recommendations
Rec count: 44
430 notes · View notes
wannab-urs · 2 months
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Outtakes - Long ass fics
AO3 | Kofi | Main Masterlist | The Spreadsheet Masterlist
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Howdy folks!
Here's a list of fics I've read that are either over 100k words or have 20+ chapters.
Summaries and tags are, in most cases, provided by the author - please be sure to read them as some of these fics may have content you do not wish to read.
Pedro boys currently included are: Din Djarin, Frankie Morales, Javier Peña, Joel Miller, Dave York, Dieter Bravo, Oberyn Martell, Jack Daniels, and Pedro Across the Street + a Din x Joel fic (no reader insert)
updated 3/27/2024
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Din Djarin
Starlight by LovelessDagger | 300k
Summary: Nothing ever truly dies. Not the Empire, not the dark, not her. The Mandalorian should know this, and somewhere deep down he does. Whether he cares is a different story. Consequences and the whole of them be damned.
Tags: Assassins & Hitmen, Enemies to Lovers, Slow Burn, Blood and Violence, Explicit Language. Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Morally Ambiguous Character, OFC, Trauma, Found Family, Betrayal, Secrets, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, Filled with existential dread, Sexual Tension, Heavy symbolism, two idiots with family issues form a family, Past Child Abuse, Mutual Pining, Angst, Eventual Smut, Clones, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sith, Imperial Inquisitors, Secret Past, No one tells the truth, Metaphorical Addiction
I Only See Daylight by @millersdjarin | 141.6k
Summary: You’ve stayed in one place all this time, knowing that any move to leave could lead them to find you. When a Mandalorian and his child crash land on your home planet, you can't turn them away for help.
Tags: Smut, slow burn, post-canon, trauma, past emotional/physical abuse, relgious trauma, scars, negative self-image, found family, injury, heavy angst, fluff and love
A Fresh Start by @theidiotwhowritesthings | 140k
Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.
Tags: use of fake name, reader is hiding from a shady past, depressive symptoms, jealousy, pining, angst, hurt/comfort, medical trauma, nightmares, blood, injury, traumatic past, scars, slow burn, shooting training, sick child, fear and panic, canon typical violence, blackmailing, anxiety, self doubt, sexual tension, heavy petting, panic attack, male masturbation, arguing, mentions of alcohol and a bit of binge drinking, angst, people getting drunk, non descriptive torture, murder, fluff, mentions of death, non consensual groping of reader by a stranger, smut, oral f receiving
Stitches by @djarinsbeskar | 190k
Summary: What is a former combat medic to do when an injured Mandalorian stumbles upon her clinic one night on Klatooine?
Tags: Smut, action, fluff, angst, canon-typical violence
Beskar Doll by @justagalwhowrites | 232.4k
Summary: You have a knack for finding trouble, be it in the midst of Galactic Civil War or when trying to live the quiet life after getting out of the game. So when you're stuck fleeing your new home planet after pissing off the wrong people - again - there's only one person willing to take you: the Mandalorian. But after years of fighting faceless men, you're not the trusting type toward someone always wearing a helmet and the Mandalorian quickly suspects there's more to you than he knows.
Tags: Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Canon-Typical Violence, Pre-Canon, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Dry Humping, Torture, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Mando'a Language (Star Wars), Protective Din Djarin, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, Din Djarin Removes the Helmet, Past Domestic Violence, Brat Tamer Din Djarin, Vaginal Fingering, Soft Din Djarin, POV Din Djarin, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Angst, Mandalorian Culture (Star Wars), Mutual Masturbation, Masturbation, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, PIV, Unsafe Sex, Consent King Din Djarin, Din Djarin's Helmet Stays on During Sex, Vaginal Sex, Din Djarin talks you through it, Making Love, Pregnancy
Best Kept Secret by @lincolndjarin | 188k
Summary: Married off to a prince on a planet that you hate? New husband doesn't know you, and doesn't want to know you? New husband gifts you a personal Mandalorian body guard as a wedding present? Mandalorian is a wiseass who won't leave you alone? Lucky you.
Tags: no y/n, Enemies to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Princess!Reader, Arranged Marriage, bodyguard!din, Smut, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Eventual Happy Ending, Masturbation, Oral Sex, Glove Kink, Light Dom/sub, Switch Din Djarin, Switch Reader, Body Worship, Din Djarin Has a Breeding Kink, Hate Sex, Creampie, Sex Toys, Anal Play, Overstimulation, Multiple Orgasms, eventual pregnancy (right at the end)
Be-All and Endor by @djarins-cyare | 400k
Summary: Languishing in a dull and lonely existence on the forest moon of Endor after travelling there to help salvage Death Star wreckage, a nearly fatal encounter with a mysterious bounty hunter out in the forest heralds an opportunity to utilise long-forgotten skills and develop something more profound than you ever thought possible.
Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Romance, Love, Sexual Tension, Eventual Smut, Smut, Sex, Sexual Content, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Fluff and Angst, Light Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Relationships, Healthy Relationships, Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Injury, Dark Past, Additional Warnings In Author's Notes, Bounty Hunter Din Djarin, Soft Din Djarin, Touch-Starved Din Djarin, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Smart Din Djarin, Soft Dominant Din Djarin, Ewok Species, Mandalorian Culture, Mando'a Language, New Razor Crest, Thoroughly Researched, Worldbuilding, No use of y/n.
A Place of Safety by The_InvisibleWoman (AO3) | 178k
Summary: Persuaded into picking up one last quarry on his way home, an exhausted Mandalorian is in no mood for you, but he slowly begins to think that things are not as they should be. You’ve been on the run for so long and you don’t even know who from, but when you are captured by the bounty hunter, you think it’s all over.
Tags: Smut, slow burn, protective!Din, touch starvation, Din Djarin's point of view, fluff, angst, mutual pining, enemies to friends to lovers, rescue, falling in love, flirting, close proximity, gentle kissing, gentle sex, cuddling, threats of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, self harm, tickling, noncon
Wrest Pin by BalletOrchard (AO3) | 366k
Summary: “I can help you escape the planet,” Mando said sharply, “But I want information in return.” She looked up at him through the small hairs on her face and she whispered, sounding almost lost…As if she didn’t know what else to say… “I have no information.” Something Mando did not believe.
Tags: panic attacks, force sensitive!reader, unprotected PinV sex, smut, mando is a dick, angst, slow burn (romantically), touch starved!din, bickering, arguing, post season 1, fluff, ofc!evangeline, she like doesn’t get off the first time they fuck which i feel like is worth noting, feelings of regret, minor character death (evangeline’s whole fam), follows canon, mando lowkey keeping evangeline against her will but like she’s hiding from the empire so, near death experience(s), the helmet comes off, oral f receiving, blindfolding, shower sex
Somewhere Beautiful by @peetiespetals | 235k
Summary: You have been working as a slave since the demise of your people and destruction of your planet. A stranger passes through your life and you make a bid for freedom, thwarted by the very man who inspired you to reach for it. In a twist of fate, the two of you are thrown together and must learn how to live with each other as the lines between slave and master begin to blur. Can you really tell the difference between duty and devtion?
Tags: smut, fluff and smut, angst, rough sex, bdsm, abandonment, neglect, physical abuse, love stories, shower sex, mutual masturbation, dom/sub undertones, oral sex, shameless smut, praise kink, bondage, biting, slow burn, spanking, orgasm control, orgasm delay/denial, cock warming, master/slave, vaginal fingering, deep throating, breast worship, pussy spanking, ball play, public creampie, edging, anal sex, foot jobs, handcuffs, cock bondage, panties in mouth, aftercare, jealous din djarin, hurt/comfort, overstimulation, strong female characters, hurt no comfort, porn with plot, sexual tension, porn with feelings, canon typical violence, slow romance, fluff and angst, anxiety, manhandling, pov second person, vaginal sex, nipple play, dirty talk, hair pulling
I Think of You by @prolix-yuy | 107k
Summary: A Mandalorian and a woman spend a night together, neither expecting the other to return. But the galaxy works in mysterious ways and many years later, despite a mission and a Creed and the cruelty of their lives, they find each other again and begin a journey of their own.
Tags: graphic smut, drinking, smoking, dirty talk, The Helmet Stays On, safe PiV sex, drinking, suggestive language, canonical-typical violence. mentions of past sexual experiences, angst and yearning, female masturbation, grinding, descriptions of male and female bodies, illness (not graphic), fingering (f receiving), male masturbation, sexy massage, hand kink, mutual masturbation, fingers in mouths, semi-unprotected PiV sex, descriptions of injuries, blood, and medical-ish procedures, allusions to sexual acts, hurt/comfort
Tied by @radiowallet | 26 chapters
Summary: Dr. Din Djarin is the top cardiothoracic surgeon in his field. His work is meticulous, his judgment unquestionable. And then he get’s a new first assist, who couldn’t give two shits about anyone’s reputation.
Tags: Smut, Cursing, Graphic violence, some questionable power dynamics.
Take Me to Church by @frannyzooey | 31 chapters
Summary: Set in a brothel in the late 1800’s in the Wild West, you’ve only been working there for a month when Din Djarin shows up. A bounty hunter who makes stops into town between jobs, he is known at the inn for his generous appetite and demanding preferences. Asking for you one night, he is pleased to learn you are well suited for him: your sweet nature soothing to his gruff temperament and surprising him with your ability to handle his rougher tastes. Demanding that you be made available to him every time he is in town, neither one of you is ready for where this request leads.
Tags: MFF, oral sex (female/male receiving), vaginal sex, dirty talk, mentions of murder, rope play, mutual masturbation, idk man lots of smut
Losing My Religion by @oonajaeadira | 108k
Summary: A Mandalorian comes looking for you with an assignment from an old friend, sending you on a mission and a union that you both need.
Tags: Smut, canon-typical violence, post-season two canon, reader is force sensitive, alternating point of view, angst, fluff, yearning, mind control, injuries, mourning a lost spouse, alcohol, feelings of betrayal, touch starvation, implied masturbation, kissing, bounty hunter kink, grinding and fingering, Mando'a language
A Shade That's New by FallenFern (AO3) | 111k
Summary: After Mando and Grogu part he goes back to bounty hunting. But its not enough. Desperate to feel again Mando accepts a more dangerous line of work. He joins your small crew on a new job, putting you in close proximity wether you like it or not. Wary of anyone, especially Mandalorians, you try to keep him at arms length. After all, anyone and everyone could be an enemy and you were going to treat him like one.Yeah, thats lasts long…
Tags: OFC!Shade, described as smaller than Mando, curly or wavy hair, able bodied, can blush/flush, Alternating 2nd Person POV. Smut, making shit up, not canon, after grogu and AU, emotional pain, plot with porn, enemies to lovers, slow burn, trauma, sexual tension, action and romance, blood and injury, blood kink, the helmet stays on, but it also comes off, blindfold, light bondage, sexual assualt, threats of rape (not by Mando), praise kink, begging, semi public sex, blaster kink, cock warming, daddy mando, oral sex (f and m receiving), smut marathon, I’ll kill anyone that touches you trope, demanding mando, comfort sex, minor character death, betrayal, mando to the rescue, revenge, reunion sex, say my name trope, edge play, rough sex, throat grabbing but not exactly choking
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Frankie Morales
Between the Raindrops by Jazzelsaur (AO3) | 148k
Summary: Two lives fall apart, then together. A journey told in parts and pieces. Frankie’s life is coming apart at the seams, when Ellie, a widow facing her own share of struggles, moves in next door. Together they find friendship, healing, and something more.
Tags: Widowed reader, divorced frankie, neighbors to friends to lovers, grief, mourning, angst, masturbation, pining, allusions to sex, eventual smut, slow burn, past drug use, alcohol, infertility, miscarriage mention, ptsd, handjobs, oral sex, smut, food, strained friendships, healing, allusions to verbal abuse, angst with a happy ending, idiots in lovedivorced!Frankie, widow!OC/reader, no one has kids, slow burn with great spicy scenes, smut! with plot
Sex Worker!Frankie AU by @prolix-yuy | 21 chapters
Summary: You’d never thought you’d be sitting on a hotel room bed, phone to your ear as you waited for someone on the other end to pick up. After a messy divorce you wanted something to ease the pain of loneliness. That something just happens to be the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, even if you had to pay for him.
Tags: Sex Worker!Frankie, implied other Triple Frontier Boys!Sex Workers, watch me make up shit about sex work, descriptions of male and female bodies, oral sex (F receiving), like super descriptive oral (there might be over 2500 words dedicated to Frankie’s talents), female masturbation, fingering (f receiving), safe PiV sex, a touch of Feral Frankie, one ass slap, fingers in mouths, some angst and feelings sprinkled in there for flavor.
Frankie Morales Box Set by @frannyzooey | 20 chapters
Summary: A series of one shots in which Frankie Morales shows you just how much he likes movie night.
Tags: oral, PIV, cum eating, hand job, cockwarming, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, thigh riding, dry humping, lots of other shit
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Javier Peña
Lie to Me by @iamskyereads | 151.8k
Summary: A recent transfer to the DEA from the FBI makes you a target of hazing from your co-workers. Choosing to forget your bad first day at a bar puts you on a path towards meeting a new acquaintance. An expert on deception and psychological profiling, you are adept at catching liars. What happens when an increasingly stressful work environment begins to test the limits of your personal life and the one man at the center of it all, Javier Peña? Afterall, everybody lies about something. But how many are you keeping from yourself?
Tags: An AU of Season 3 of Narcos.Language, Alcohol/Drinking, Smoking, POV Switches, assholery, office pranks/hazing, hatin on the FBI and the DEA too, but we all hate on the CIA the most, Praise Kink, Dirty Talk, thigh grinding, PIV sex, soft Javi, Pining, Sexual Frustration, Use of A Sex Toy, Edging, Oral Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, Guns, police raids, Parallel plots to the show, Smut, sloppy blowjobs, Shower Sex, Social Anxiety, Nightmares, Rough Sex, spitting, Semi-Public Sex, Office Sex, Love in an Elevator, death of background characters, kidnapping of background characters, Shootouts, Masturbation, Breeding Kink, discussions of fertility, kink negotiations, Spanking, Brat behavior, Mild D/s vibes, Creampie, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Sex in a Church, Unprotected Sex, TacVest!Javi, Orgasm Denial, Angst with a Happy Ending, Period-Typical Sexism, Hospital, scar, accident of background characters, historical classism/sexism/racism, Grief/Mourning, Body Insecurities, Cockwarming, threats of kidnapping reader, light teasing, Flirting
Learning to Live by @wheresarizona | 382k
Summary: While grocery shopping, you happen across a handsome man confused by some produce. Coming to his aid leads to an invitation for drinks, and next thing you know, you’re falling head over heels for Javier Peña—a good man who has trouble believing he is. Sparks fly when you meet and ignite an insatiable need that you both try to fight for the sake of taking things slow; Javi determined to do things right by you. The problem is, the two of you only have so much self-control.
Tags: Post-Colombia and Narcos S3, Story Starts in June 1998.POV Alternating, Soft Javier Peña, Meet-Cute, First Dates, Javier Peña Needs a Hug, Whirlwind Romance, Javier Getting the Love and Happiness He Deserves, Javier Is Stubborn At First, Javier Peña in Love, Javier Being a Consent King, Multiple Orgasms, Vaginal Fingering, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Hand Jobs, Come Eating, Phone Sex, Mutual Masturbation, Vaginal Sex, Creampie, Cunnilingus, Blow Jobs, Edgeplay, Body Worship, Shower Sex, Biting Javis Butt, Deepthroating, Biting, Javier Coming So Hard His Soul Leaves His Body, Spanking, Car Sex, Dry Humping, Public Thigh Riding, Face-Sitting, Dirty Dancing, Post-Sex Smoking, Aftercare, Feelings, Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Slow Dancing, Protective Javier Peña, Jealous Javier Peña, Getting Tipsy With Javier, Javier In Grey Sweatpants, Alcohol, Small Towns, Food, Road Trips, Post-Canon, Face-Fucking, Breeding, Rimming, Anal Play, Romantic Comedy, Cockwarming, Grief/Mourning, past relationship trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Horseback Riding, Love Confessions, Miscommunication, Arguing, Angst with a Happy Ending, Period-Typical Sexism, Canon Typical Drug Talk, Nude Photos, Overstimulation, Dysfunctional Family
Just Dumb Enough to Try by @whatsnewalycat | 108k
Summary: In 1993, you met Javier Peña in San Antonio. You made an emotional and physical connection with him. Now it’s 1998 and you’re starting a new chapter of life in Laredo with your fiancé. And who else walks back into the picture, but the man who left you high and dry five years ago.
Tags: alcohol use, Binge Drinking, Swearing, Recreational Drug Use, Cigarettes, Voyeurism, Smut, Bisexual main character, Touch-Starved, Female Masturbation, Vaginal Sex, Unprotected Sex, Dirty Talk, Teasing, Flirting, Mutual Pining, Cheating, Infidelity, Sexual Tension, Attempt at Humor, Soft Javier Peña, Movie Nerd Shit, use of daddy in a sexual context, Vulnerable Javier Peña, Angst and Feels, Family Issues, Mostly Post Season 3, Existential Crisis, Banter, Mental Health Issues, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, friends to lovers to friends to lovers, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fluff and Humor, Oral Sex, Slow Burn, No beta idk I just got here, Fluff and Smut, Not Canon Compliant, Impact Play, Pain Kink, Domestic Violence, Praise Kink, Unplanned Pregnancy, Breeding Kink, Blood and Violence, Mild Gore, Kidnapping
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Joel Miller
Feelings on Fire by @joelscruff | 110k
Summary: Back from school for the summer and staying with your devout Catholic parents, you ask Joel Miller to teach you guitar as an act of rebellion. Turns out, there's a lot more that he wants to teach you too...
Tags: Smut, age gap (reader is in her 20s, Joel is in his mid 50s), inexperienced/virgin reader, loss of virginity, corruption, mentions of religion/Catholicism, praise kink, pet names (babygirl, sweetheart, darling), dirty talk, masturbation, unprotected penetrative vaginal sex, creampies, cumplay, oral sex (female and male receiving), exhibitionism, size kink
Lavender by @justagalwhowrites | 253k
Summary: You're a college student in Austin, Texas, who gets a summer job nannying Sarah Miller. It's not long before her dad sees you as more than a babysitter - or more than a friend. But life - and an apocalypse - have other plans.
Tags: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Pre-Canon, Friends to Lovers, Protective Joel, Parent Joel, Joel is Bad at Feelings, Soft Joel, Fluff and Smut, Fluff, Angst, Smut, Vaginal Sex, Oral Sex, Loss of Virginity, Miscarriage, Sexual Coercion
Closer by @beardedjoel | 193k
Summary: you are staying with your parents, helping them move into their new house in austin. what happens when joel miller, the attractive neighbor you've been eyeing obsessively starts to show you some much wanted attention?
Tags: smut, age difference (joel is 42 and reader is 25), porn with some plot, inexperienced reader, soft!dom joel, boyfriend! joel, possessive! joel, mutual masturbation, rough sex, spanking, creampie, unprotected piv, oral (m + f receiving), dirty talk, overstimulation kink, praise kink, so many pet names it’s not even funny, consensual somnophilia, cockwarming
Yearling by @justagalwhowrites | 186k (as of ch 27)
Summary: After years of surviving in the wilds of Wyoming after the cordyceps outbreak, you find yourself in Jackson. It's a town filled with friendly faces and the kind of world you hardly remember, let alone can connect with or understand. But one man - Joel Miller, another loner, like you - makes you think that trying to find your place in society again might be worth it.
Tags: Slow Burn, Hurt/Comfort, Protective Joel, Parent Joel, Angst, Soft Joel, Smut, Eventual Smut, Eventual Romance, Past Sexual Abuse, Friends to Lovers
Hot and Heavy by @tieronecrush | 130k
Summary: Over the course of three summers, Joel Miller has become woven into the fabric of your life. You nanny his daughter, sneaking around in an illicit love affair. You keep coming home, and he keeps coming back to you. The last summer, you're home with no plans of leaving—and Joel seeks you out again. What chances do you have?
Tags: Neighbor!Joel, age gap, canon-divergence, no outbreak, alcohol consumption, mentions of food, pet names (sweetheart), familial and self pressure, reader is in college, nanny!reader, smut
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Dave York
Notes on Tutoring by @honestly-shite | 189.9k
Summary: Mr. York becomes your new classical guitar tutor in your final year at music college. A dark, mysterious man, you struggle to get a read on him but that doesn’t stop you from finding many ways to push his buttons.
Tags: Smut, alternate universe, music college, age gap, teacher/student relationship, slow burn, PiV sex, power dynamics, angst, pining, alcohol and drinking
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Dieter Bravo
Recovery Road by @chronically-ghosted | 108k
Summary: Dieter Bravo is on his last chance. Six months out of a two year stint in rehab, his marriage on the rocks, and his starlight fading, he reunites with an old director friend on a project that might save his career and his personal life in a single go. Enter Natalie Lorraine, his new enigmatic co-star. Together, they go on to lead a film that comes to define a generation – and are both mysteriously absent the night the film receives an Oscar for Best Picture. Their reasons for missing such a landmark event are their own.
Tags: Smut, age gap (Dieter is 35, reader is 22), drug usage, alcohol, smoking, infidelity, discussions of addiction and withdrawal, toxic relationships, masturbation, pining, angst, anxiety and anxiety attacks, mental illness, bad coping mechanisms, named reader, descriptions of reader's hair, bi!Dieter
Psychomanteum by @whatsnewalycat | 132.7k
Summary: You’ve recently taken on the customer-facing responsibilities of the small-scale cannabis bakery you and your late husband ran out of your apartment, which introduces you to occasional customer, Dieter Bravo. A friendship is sparked when you realize you have something in common: you’ve both died. What Dieter doesn’t tell you about his near-death experience, though, is that it foretold his life with you.
Tags: Smut (including - alternating power dynamics, consensual unprotected sex, penetrative vaginal sex, oral sex, anal sex), gried, alternating point of view, physical descriptions of OFC (including - tattoos, scars, being lifted by Dieter), drug use (including - smoking cannabis and consuming edibles, dropping acid, drinking alcohol, cocaine and morphine use), substance abuse, addiction, fame & paparazzi, canon divergent, suicidal thoughts and planning, divorce, near-death experiences, Bi4Bi romance, supernatural elements, ghosts and psychomanteums, spirituality, drag performance, long-distance relationship, friends to lovers dynamic, OFC is infertile, familial and relationship trauma - please refer to chapters for all warnings.
For the Love of Horror by @coulsons-fullmetal-cellist | 80 chapters
Summary: Dieter meets and falls in love with someone who absolutely loves horror films. The problem is, he's a big scaredy cat!
Tags: loose fit series, series of one shots and drabbles, tags on each chapter
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Oberyn Martell
In Name Only by @forever-rogue | 21 chapters
Summary: Reader, the only daughter of late Lord and Lady Beesbury, is sent off to be married to Prince Oberyn Martell. After having been parted from her first love by her horrid mother, she refuses to marry a man she does not know or love and be pushed into a life of misery. But after threat of being cut off from everything she knew and loved, she finds herself leaving her home in Honeyholt and arriving in Sunspear, married to the Prince. Being the charming and kind Prince he is, Oberyn promises her that it does not have to be a true marriage, it can be a marriage in name only. Little does the newly anointed Lady Martell know, that being married to the Prince is so much more than she bargained for.
Tags: Smut, language, fluff, kissing, period-typical misogyny, angst, sensual touching, mentions of violence and injury, discussions of pregnancy, mentions of death
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Jack "Whiskey" Daniels
Down the Rabbit-Hole by @absurdthirst, @wardenparker | 208k
Summary: When Jack accidentally shoots a civilian on a mission he takes on not only the guilt of the man’s death, but inherits his soulmate as well. To you, it’s a dream job with more perks than you can imagine - but for Jack it’s a nightmarish complication. Even more so when he starts to develop feelings.
Tags: mentions of deceased spouse, a lot of food and alcohol consumption, family recipes, age gap, cursing, Canon typical violence, Death, gun use, angst, Jack has a temper and Tequila has a dumb first name, Making Out, a bit of groping, heavy flirting, sexy shower time, a whole truck load of anger, Fisticuffs, a bunch of angry people being upset with each other, Kidnapping, Torture, burning victim with cigarettes, Broken Bones, a whole lot of gun pointing and talk about murder, medicine by injection, oral sex (f and m receiving), Outdoor Sex, Public Sex, Unprotected Sex, Vaginal Sex, Cream Pie, Cum Play, Anxiety, Accidental Hurt, panic attack (symptoms based on my own personal experiences), intrusive/racing thoughts, physical symptoms of anxiety, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Guilt, Possible Unwanted Pregnancy, Lies, Nausea/Illness, Talk of Abortion, canon typical injuries, Family Planning, Mentions of Sex Toys, Lingerie, Spanking, rough sex, Flirty and somewhat explicit banter, Pregnancy, Discussion of symptoms, Mood Swings, cemetery/deceased loved ones, speaking to deceased loved ones
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Pedro Across The Street (Calls)
Good. Things. Take. Time. by @oonajaeadira | 22 chapters
Summary: PATS is a massage therapist with special services. Or so he claims. He gives you a three-hour session you’re both going to enjoy.
Tags: Explicit marathon wall to wall smut, masseuse!PATS, sex worker!PATS.
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Din Djarin x Joel Miller
Cosmic Oddities by fromthewhales (AO3) | 106k
Summary: Turning a clan of two into a clan of four and asking the very important, albeit unhinged question: What if space dad and apocalypse dad were Weird About Each Other?
Tags: parental bonding, parallels, angst, everyone has issues, everyone needs a hug, touch starved din djarin, injuries, strangers to ??? to lovers, smashing the space western and the zombie western together like 2 ken dolls, trauma, crack-fic adjacent at times, hurt/comfort, soft not super explicit smut, self harm, found family, din djarin eventually removes the helmet, blindfold, long distance relationship, survivors guilt, angst with a happy ending, non sexual intimacy, it gets worse before it gets better, alcohol mention, game II canon divergent — but boy does it come close, canon typical violence, minor character death, major character injury, bi!din djarin, bi!joel miller
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Various
The Infinity Cube by @littlemisspascal | 20 chapters
Summary: When you play with a strange cube, you’re transported out of your current reality with your boyfriend Marcus into brand new ones starring alternate versions of your boyfriend who look and act entirely different every time. With each encounter, you start to wonder if you’ll ever make it back to your real universe?
Tags: language, fluff, angst
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morallyinept · 7 months
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A list of all my favourite DIN DJARIN Fic Recs, with the writers tagged. Includes fics I am currently reading/want to read.
Please show some love to the writers by re-blogging and commenting on their work. 🖤
PART 1
⚠️ Please ensure you check the triggers/warnings etc... on the stories themselves as some of them may not be suitable to your own particular tastes.
Stepwise & Din Djarin Masterlist - @the-scandalorian
Push & Pull - @sinsofsummers
The Cassandra Complex Series - @netherfeildren
Fear Not The Abyss CultLeader!Din & The Mandalorian Masterlist - @psychedelic-ink
Take Me To Church Series - @frannyzooey Western AU
Touching Din - @archieimagines
The Mandalorian Masterlist - @absurdthirst So much to choose from!
Hands - @againstacecilia
Your Creed, My Quest Series - @atinylittlepain
Din Djarin Masterlist - @beecastle Couldn't pick just one!
Bleed For Me Series - @saradika Vampire!Din
Din Djarin Masterlist - @beskarandblasters Couldn't pick just one!
Defanged - @concussed-to-pieces
Acting Out - @cool-iguana
The Minotaur Series - @djarinsbeskar
Warmth Of You & Din Djarin Masterlist - @ezrasbirdie
Feel It - @ezrasbirdie Din x Cobb
It would be - @fuckyeahdindjarin
Din Djarin Masterlist - @theidiotwhowritesthings So many good ones!
In Knots - @radiowallet
Possession - @prolix-yuy Featuring Cobb Vanth
Silk Series - @juletheghoul 1970's AU
The Sweetest Melody - @noisynaia
The Only Exception - @imaginedisish
Keep It Down - @multifandombitxh
Home Is Where You're Mine - @inklore
Did You Miss Me? - @mellowswriting
Din Djarin Masterlist - @bits-and-babs So many to choose from!
Stormy Skies - @deakyjoe GN!Reader
The Worthwhile Delay - @ghostofaboy Din x Cobb
Windows Of The Soul - @la-lunaluna M!Reader
A Sound Only You Can Hear Series - @nolanell GN!Reader Soulmates AU
I'll Be Needing The Stitches - @thetriumphantpanda
Watch - @psychedelic-ink
To Touch Darkness - @djarincore Possessed!Din
Be All & Endor Series - @djarins-cyare
Tendrils - @morallyinept RopeMaster!Din
Taungsdays, Am I Right? - @theywhowriteandknowthings
Night Ride - @decembermidnight
A Good Friend To Have - @beskarandblasters Sub!Din
A Kind Of Demon - @fettuccin-e Monster AU
Hold On, Hold On - @kedsandtubesocks Cowboy!Din
Bounty & Hunter - @never--doubt
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Space Daddy Din Fic Recs
Beskar Doll (series, complete)- by @justagalwhowrites this is probably my fave din fic of all time!
Stitches (series, ongoing)- by @djarinsbeskar this was one of the first multi chapter din fics I read and it is SO good
Something More, Something Deeper, Something Holy (series, ongoing)- by @amiedala
Of Sunshine And Hyperspace (series, ongoing)- by @peetiespetals
A Fresh Start (series, ongoing)- by @theidiotwhowritesthings this is my Mando comfort fic! I've read it several times and it's just so sweet
Best Kept Secret (series, ongoing)- by@lincolndjarin nothing I love more than idiots in love
Tattoo My Heart (series, complete)- by @mandosmistress I read this miniseries while I was getting my Mando tattoo!
Beloved (series, ongoing)- by @groguspicklejar
Hazy Dayz (oneshot, sex pollen)- by @theywhowriteandknowthings
As always this list is ongoing! If you have any recs feel free to send them to me! Also I have another, longer list that I may have misplaced so this list will get A LOT longer when (if) I find it.
Fic Rec Masterlist
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bearsbeetsbeskar · 1 year
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Not me sitting with my jaw dropped for 5 straight minutes and then SCREAMING AFTER SEEING ONE OF MY ABSOLUTE FAVOURITE WRITERS FOLLOW ME
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You thought this was over didn't you!? WELL IT IS NOT!!
MORE RECS ALL OF THE RECS!!!!
This time for my beloved powerhouse of a filth menace @djarinsbeskar and her beautiful Stitches universe. I still remember reading the first chapter and just putting it down and going HOLY SHIT, because the worldbuilding reads like something the showrunners themselves wrote.
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Favorite Fanworks Fic Rec:
Stitches Series by @djarinsbeskar [The Mandalorian: Din x f medic reader, ongoing epic series]
(Send in a rec for twp’s “Show Me the Fanworks!” Celebration)
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Stiches 'verse, my beloved!! You're so right, bestie, that this worldbuilding in this fic is out of this world!! (Literally 😉) Add to that the depth of emotion and the scorchingly HOT smut, and this series can rival many a published novel.
Thanks for sending it (and all your other recs) in, 'boots! (I feel like you could carry this entire celebration single-handedly at this point, and I LOVE IT... and you 🤡💖🤡!)
🧡 twp
[Edited to Add: All recs now compiled on the Fav Fanworks Rec List]
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djarinsbeskar · 1 year
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Since I'm bored in the airport and getting a cold to boot, let's try out one of these new poll things I've discovered:
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daddydindjarin · 6 months
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The Nymph in the Labyrinth from @djarinsbeskar’s Here, There Be Monster’s: The Minotaur series
It’s a companion piece to this, because I’m still obsessed with her. Please please please go read it!
Note: this is my interpretation of the Nymph, and not a reflection of anyone else’s views or interpretations of her!
25 hours in Procreate
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Breakout
Pairing: Boxer!Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Summary: When former boxer turned trainer Joel Miller reluctantly agrees to take on this year's favorited newcomer, he expects the bad-tempered rookie to bring him plenty of headaches. What he doesn't expect is that he'll also bring him you.
Content: Alternate Universe - No Outbreak, Explicit Smut, Age Gap, Secret Relationship, Workplace Shenanigans, Jealous Ex, Risk of Getting Caught, Fighting (Obv), Teacher/Student Dynamic, Best Friend's Dad
Rounds:
Round One
Round Two
Round Three
Round Four
Knockout (Round Five)
A/N: I fully blame @astroboots and @djarinsbeskar for this.
To receive updates when I post, turn on notification for @ren-browne-writes.
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