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sirdindjarin · 1 year

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The Concession - Din Djarin x f!Reader

gif from @rebeljyn 's gifset here

Din Djarin falls in love. Whoops.

The Savior / The Concession / The Choice (END)

AO3 Link

TAGS: S2 Din Djarin, "Who Did This to You?", P in V, Unprotected Sex w/o consequences because who likes those, m!Masturbation, Fluff, Pining, touch-starved!Din, helmet-less!Din, soft!Din, protective!Din, Grogu bein a sweet shit.

WARNINGS: Star Wars cursing/slang which I know annoys some people lmao, abusive shopkeepers.

A/N: "Shit" is Star Wars canon (thank you, Andor); Din is a groaner (Chapter 5 of TBOBF); & Din is a bit of a poet (thanks pledge to Bo-Katan in Chapter 23); I have cited my sources LOL.

"No," the Mandalorian snaps. "No droids."

A gloved hand flies to his holster and the rusty pit droids screech to a halt, beeping nervously.

Leaning against the frame of the Razor Crest, at the top of the boarding ramp, you roll your eyes at Din Djarin's back. His distaste for droids had been made clear to you the first time he'd stopped for parts.

Those droids had been considerably less polite about Din’s preference, and he had taken too much pleasure in enforcing it.

"Listen, buddy, they're my refueling dr-"

"Then I'll take my business elsewhere."

The attendant sighs loudly, glaring at the Mandalorian. The skinny, maroon male with a fin-shaped head rises from his chair behind his workshop desk. He walks toward a shaking pit droid and grabs the refueler.

"It'll cost you extra," the attendant's eye-stalks narrow at the bounty hunter.

Din comes to an agreement with the disgruntled worker, sullenly agreeing to a slightly higher rate.

As the Mandalorian keeps watch over his ship, your footsteps clang down the steep ramp, and you sidle up to him, saying, "We need some things. Ration packs are gone. And - don't tell him -" your voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper, "But I think Grogu deserves a treat."

"He would agree with you.” Din’s elbow brushes your shoulder, and he realizes he’d leaned closer as you spoke.

You continue, “And you need something to relax.”

At that, Din’s helmet turns. “I do not.”

“You’re even more impatient than usual. You’re on an anti-droid campaign; the last time we stopped, you threatened to yank out one’s navigator circuits just for bumping your foot.” You look up at him, raising a teasing eyebrow.

The Mandalorian goes as still as one of those droids he had deactivated. His intimidating, T-shaped slit brands into your vision. Behind it, you know he’s boring holes into your face.

“Alright. Nothing for you, then.”

Your shoulders drop when you turn away from him, almost relieved to be out from underneath his piercing, hidden gaze.

The Mandalorian had paid you a few days before, and this was your first real opportunity to spend your own money. You can’t stop smiling, even as you place the kid in his white pod and stuff your pocket with your credits. Grogu is as excited as you are - giggling in his quiet way.

As you pass the statue of Din Djarin, he extends a closed fist. Obediently, you hold out your hand. The tan-hide fingers of his gloves open and credits fall, clinking. You look up questioningly at him.

“For the food. Your wages are not meant to be spent on communal necessities.”

Your lips curve into a lopsided, sweet smile that Din immediately commits to memory, and you nod.

Turning to Grogu, his fuzzy ears perked and eyes wide, you ask, “Ready, kid?”

***

The marketplace is huge. Stretching the length of the entire square, it’s busy for a planet this remote, but the size increases the options.

Grogu floats along beside you, and you keep one hand on the lip of the pod, just to be safe. The responsibility of the kid is the greatest charge you’ve ever been given, in more ways than one. Grogu often holds your hand or squeaks to get your attention to point at something glowing or stinky or flashing. His outright affection is a lamp to your lonely heart.

After visiting several vendors, you’ve resupplied what was necessary (with credits left over), and now you move on to something for Grogu. You’d be buying that with your own wages. Din could say whatever he liked, but what else do you have to spend your money on except the cute baby?

You walk past a booth advertising repair supplies, but when you realize it’s for clothing repair, something clicks in your brain. Grogu’s ears flop forward with your sudden stop. Your eyes run over the objects, and you select some, a smile splitting your face. You hope he will be pleased.

Several minutes later, Grogu makes a bah! sound, pointing at a live amphibian display. You’re pretty sure it’s a pet vendor, but the look on the kid’s face tells you he won’t take no for an answer. And maybe you should parent him - tell him no - but that’s Din’s job, not yours.

“Hi. How much for the frog eggs?” You politely ask the vendor, digging in your pocket for credits.

The bug-eyed lady tells you in a language you don’t speak, but she holds up three short tentacles on her hand. She pushes six eggs toward you, which you gratefully take and set in Grogu’s pod.

When you try to hand her the credits, she’s pushed out of the way by someone behind her. A man with a smushed nose yells in the same language the lady had spoken, and points away, clearly telling her to leave.

You watch warily, and once the woman has gone, the man turns to you.

“My apologies. The price is one credit per egg,” he simpers at you.

Disliking the hike in price, you move to return half of the eggs, but he protests, “Once the item has left my possession, they must be paid for.”

“But I can give them back to you,” you assert. “I’m not paying that much for frog eggs.”

His smushed nose twitches up like a feral Loth-wolf, “Yes, you are.”

"I'm not." You set three eggs back on the counter.

The man seizes your wrists, holding you in place. The crowded market is loud, but your indignant cry and the vendor's screamed accusation of theft cause several people to stop and watch.

You try to twist out of his hold, but his scaly skin tears at yours. The snarling vendor suddenly ceases making noise, and he releases your wrists to clutch at his throat. Shocked, your head snaps to the child.

Grogu has one little, three-fingered hand raised and curled.

“No!” You gasp, slamming the button on Grogu’s pod to close it. Far, far too many eyes watch.

The vendor, choking and sputtering, recovers quickly and lunges at you across the table. His hands grip your upper arms, but you wrench out of his hold. Hoping to draw all attention to yourself, you punch the vendor with all your might. The vendor stumbles.

“Never seen someone pretend to choke over three credits,” your lie is an incredibly lame one, but you hope it’s enough for passersby.

He clutches his jaw; his spat insult is garbled, and he begins to inch around the long table, trying to get a better shot at you.

You turn and walk away with as even a pace as you can manage. Running would make his accusation true. The crowd swallows the two of you up well, and you lengthen your stride.

But the vendor is regaining his volume. Nervously, you check over your shoulder. You jolt when Grogu’s pod bumps into your hip, then zooms away.

“No,” you yell again, grasping for the white vessel, but it comes to a hovering stop in front of a tall, silver man.

“Thank the Maker,” you sigh with relief. “We have to go.”

Din immediately notices the red ring of heat around your wrists and along your knuckles. He strides toward you. The closer he gets, the safer you feel - his protective aura slowly engulfing you.

Din grabs your forearm and examines your wrist. There’s a raw quality to your skin where the man’s abrasive hands had clamped down and twisted. After a moment, his face locks onto yours.

“Show me who did this."

Cold, calm, his words are a promise.

Confused by his reaction, and still so used to answering when asked a direct question, you wince over your shoulder. Din finally seems to hear the vendor shouting in the distance as he searches the crowd for a ‘thief’ and her ‘dangerous pet’. Din abruptly straightens and steps past you.

Running after him, you reach for his gloved hand, fingers sliding home. “Din, please; we need to go.”

The familiar contact makes him stop and turn to look at you. He says nothing, so you use the opportunity to explain.

“The ki- I made a scene, and it would be best if everyone forgot about it. A Mandalorian publicly roughing up the very same shopkeeper would give them more reason to gossip.”

Din Djarin frowns the longer you speak. He knows you’re right. The kid is far more important than his sudden anger. He nods curtly.

The man’s vicious insults about your likely occupation and parentage echo down the street and make Din’s lip curl. But for the sake of the child, he manages to turn back toward the Razor Crest. It’s only when he passes Grogu’s stationary pod that he realizes he’s still holding your hand, fingers loosely intertwined.

He gently flexes his hand, letting go.

____________________________________

As the Razor Crest speeds away from the planet, you smile. Vacuous and bone-chillingly cold, space is the worst. For most of your life, the inhospitable conditions had been worsened by your constant transport in the dark hold of some Creator-forsaken vessel.

But the cabin of the Mandalorian’s ship is warm and full of life, occupied by the kid's excited babbling and your semi-nervous laughter.

The kid waves his stubby arms in the Mandalorian’s lap as the Razor Crest dips and rises through a relatively calm asteroid field. Expertly maneuvering the expanse, Din Djarin has little motivation to do so except the smiles on his passengers’ faces. If you ask, he’ll tell you it’s a shortcut to the next system, which is only mostly untrue.

It’s been three months since Din collected the bounty on your former master. During that time, the Mandalorian had found one of the kid’s kind. A Jedi who could’ve taken Grogu, she declined the task. She told the bounty hunter of a place, a Seeing Stone, where Grogu could reach out for a Jedi master himself.

Though a week has passed since learning of the Stone, Din had yet to bring Grogu to it, instead taking a couple of jobs. The stoic Mandalorian won’t admit, especially to himself, that he’s reluctant to let the child go.

Reaching a lull in the slow-moving asteroids, Din draws the thruster back to stationary level, then looks down, his helmet nearly touching his breastplate, at the child still waving his short arms. Din turns his silver face to you questioningly.

Before he can speak, you joke, "I don’t want to learn to fly out here, if that's what you're about to ask.”

He shrugs with acceptance. Your eyebrows pinch in surprise, wondering if he’s playing along or serious.

“Okay, kid. We're done here,” he tenderly lifts Grogu and passes him to you.

Grogu makes a protesting sound and hides one of his hands inside his robe.

“Big, mean Mandalorian is no fun,” you mutter to the child teasingly. Grogu coos in agreement.

Din shakes his head and swivels back to the control panel, flipping switches and entering data. The kid catches your attention, triumphantly showcasing a small metal sphere from his robe. You press your lips together and wink, silently promising you won’t tell.

The Mandalorian’s gloved fingers run over his ship’s control panel like he’s conducting the Coruscant Orchestra, and then, suddenly, his right hand freezes in mid-air as he reaches for the thruster.

“Grogu,” Din growls, spinning in his chair.

You laugh openly, “He’s a toddler, Din. You can’t close your eyes for a second.”

The Mandalorian rises, his bulk taking up the entirety of the cabin. He gently wrestles the ball from Grogu's fingers.

Long, soft ears droop, and massive, black eyes turn glassy.

“Oh, look what you've done,” you croon, looking up at Din with an expression mirroring the kid’s.

Though he doesn't move, you can somehow see when Din’s annoyance is overruled by something stronger. Then the Mandalorian’s wide shoulders slowly rise and fall, a long-suffering sigh leaving his body.

“You are both menaces,” the Mandalorian accuses. He extends his hand, palm upward, “Grogu. Take it.”

You hold your breath, allowing the child to focus on using his power. Grogu closes his eyes. The metal ball wiggles in the concave of Din’s large palm, then zooms to Grogu’s tiny hand.

Din makes a fist in excitement, “Great job, kid.”

Beaming at the Mandalorian, even more enthralled with him than the magic child in your lap, you wish you could see his proud smile.

Noticing your expression, Din's chin swivels to the side, clearly questioning.

"Nothing. It's just that - it’s good to see you like this.” You shrug, trying to minimize your staring. “I know you’ve been stressed.”

The silent moment draws out as he assesses your observation. Still standing, the Mandalorian’s right hand hesitantly rises to whisper across the left side of your jaw. The gloved softness of his thumb caresses your cheekbone for an instant and a lifetime.

Din drops his hand like it weighs as much as a rancor. He turns around and sits back in his pilot's chair. Silver armor reflects the red and yellow lights around the cabin as he finishes his navigational procedures.

Cheeks aflame, you duck your face down into the kid.

___________________________________

“‘Occasional repairs,’’' you quote at the Mandalorian. “Every karking week there’s a new hole in this poor ship.”

On the other side of the wing, busy soldering panels together, the Mandalorian's head snaps up. Unmoving, his expressionless mask simply stares at you. You bite your lip to prevent a grin and continue replacing bolts.

The beskar helmet remains for a while longer, hiding Din’s thoughts. He imagines what you’d look like if he put you on your knees and made you pay for your jokes. If he wiped that pretty smirk off your face. He feels a stirring in his flight suit, so he wrenches his mind away.

The act the two of you committed in that field has not been repeated. His dedication to his helmet - to his creed - is paramount. And you tempt him too much.

For the second time in the past year, Din has accidentally grown attached to someone - first the kid and now you. But with you, it’s a danger of a different kind.

Din had hoped that he just needed to get it out of his system. Get you out of his system. He had won that mock fight in the field, but he had yielded to his desire for you.

Instead of feeling sated, Din feels hungrier as the days go by. Useless information, such as the number of sonic showers you've taken, clogs his mind. He would be ashamed of his counting, but he's too battle-weary to care. He does not count how many times he's taken advantage of the privacy of his bunk, remembering your eager face, your receptive body underneath him.

All that armor wasn't worth a damn thing.

It’s easier for you. As inexperienced as Din but with your self-esteem already in the sarlacc pit, it wasn’t a stretch to imagine he'd had his fill of you and… well, that was that. Though you dream of it nearly every night, waking up to the strange feeling of both gaining and losing something.

Of course, the Mandalorian still needed you to care for the kid or help him replace several wing panels when he inevitably damaged them, as you were currently doing.

At dusk, white trees sway behind you in the biting wind. This planet is rather cold, and Grogu, asleep inside the Razor Crest, doesn’t join you for the lovely, young Gornt dinner that Din had hunted. The two of you butcher it in silence and place it on the makeshift spit.

You then plop onto a log and snuggle down into your clothes, shivering. Though the items Din had given you months earlier are sturdy and warm, some of the chill of the night manages to seep through. You cross your arms, rubbing them.

Din vanishes from the other side of the fire - the smoky, dark air impenetrable. Squinting, you try to spot his reflective armor, but it works against you in this instance, easily blending him into the flickering, dim light.

A heavy material suddenly falls onto your shoulders, and you jump.

"Oh!"

The Mandalorian stands directly behind you, the thick cloak he was trying to give you still partially in his hand.

"I was focused on trying to see you through the smoke. I didn't think you'd be there." You clutch the brown garment tight around you and softly smile up at him, "Thank you."

Din nods, the clinking sound of metal audible as he returns to his log across the firelight. Your mouth gapes for a moment when you realize that the material around your shoulders is his torn cape.

"Do you not get cold?"

"I do."

"Why not wear one yourself then?" You lift part of the cloak in indication.

"Mandalorians are taught to withstand uncomfortable circumstances. As a foundling, I frequently exercised in far less temperate weather."

"A foundling?" You query, your eyebrow raising.

The Mandalorian leans back and shifts his legs apart to better distribute his weight.

"My youth was upended by war. When my village was destroyed, I was found by a Mandalorian."

"The name is quite literal, then?"

"My people are quite literal," Din crosses his arms and his commanding presence is distracting.

He looks so big sitting on the log, his legs open, back straight, and arms folded.

"We have similar beginnings," you swallow, trying to ignore the burning inside that has nothing to do with the fire.

"I was a little more fortunate in who found me," Din states. He leans forward to finally adjust the rod holding your dinner.

You lose your gaze in the flaming light, remembering.

“I still can’t believe how much things have changed,” you murmur.

Din Djarin can’t either. He has a life-altering decision to make, and a child to let go of, and both thoughts weigh on him like a karking Mudhorn. Din sighs internally at his unintended choice of simile.

Your eyes stray upward to the navy sky, breathing deeply. The frigid air burns your lungs, but you only draw more in, relishing your freedom to do so.

"You did not deserve that life," Din’s rough, mechanical voice answers over the sound of the crackling fire.

You frown, "No one does."

Running with the Mandalorian was a great way to stay ahead of the slavers. Paid employment, constant movement, and no one besides Din knowing your name - it was too good to be true.

Dropping your head from the sky, you level the Mandalorian with the most heartfelt gaze you can manage, "Thank you. I would've never had the courage to run without you."

Unable to see his reaction, you feel the distance most acutely. It isn't just flame and metal that divides you.

"I-" Din starts, but you cut him off.

"But mostly it's thanks to Grogu," you grin, trying to lighten the mood.

The helmet bobs as though he's amused, then Din sighs dramatically.

"I need to separate you two."

"I love him," you giggle, remembering a moment a few days earlier when he had picked up a very dignified, sentient species of frog and tried to eat it. "He is such an agent of chaos." You laugh into your cloak-covered hand.

Grateful that you can't see the fervent emotion glimmering in his brown eyes, Din studies you. Your fond smile is lit by the glowing fire and the cold winds blow redness into your cheeks and nose. You’re secure in his cloak, and it makes his chest ache.

"Shit," he breathes. The hiss through his modulator doesn't pick up the word well, to his relief.

It's not a surprise if you do truly love the kid. He is adorable and you've been with him every waking moment for three months, but the word you've just introduced is jarring to Din.

Talking about Grogu brings the dangers you all face to the forefront of your mind. Your smile falls.

"Will you continue to teach me to fight?" You don't immediately register the sudden rigidity of Din's posture, so you press on, "It’s upsetting to me that I'm better with a blaster than with the skills I was taught and trained in by my family."

The Mandalorian is relieved. You've given him an excuse to say no.

"I cannot teach you the methods of your people."

“That’s alright; anything would be appreciated.”

Din shifts his thigh on the log, agitated, and you struggle to fill the silence, “You don’t have to, of course.”

Then, as the silence lengthens, and you watch his helmet glint as he looks away, you realize what he must be so uncomfortable about.

“Oh. I am not asking we repeat that. I’m sorry,” you raise a hand to chest height as if you’re trying to physically defend yourself from the awkwardness. “I’m really sorry. I didn’t mean-”

“I know.”

“I- Din, really I only meant the…” you grimace and clamp your lips together, unable to bear the tension. Standing, you insist, “I swear to you, I never expected more.”

Forgetting to return his cape, you unconsciously hold it closer as you retreat into the Razor Crest.

The Mandalorian does not watch you walk away. His conflicted eyes remain trained on the crackling fire. Sparring with you brings every heart tug, every little attraction he has to you to the surface, and that's too frustrating to manage while IMPs track him and he deals with letting go of Grogu.

But Din knows he really should continue to teach you. It’s in your best interest, as well as Grogu’s. His hangup is entirely selfish, and Din is not a selfish man.

***

Hours later, when the sun has started to rise once more on this short-cycle planet, the Mandalorian finds his brown cape hung on the door to the refresher. He jerks it off its resting place, and goes to tuck it back around himself, when he notices that something is wrong.

Frozen, the Mandalorian stares at the brown, rough material in his hand. There are no holes in it anymore, only stitches.

_________________________________________

Combined with the sound of intentionally-loud footsteps, Din places Grogu - who had jumped between the two of you all night - on the edge of your cot, allowing the child to wake you up. Din strides to his weapons cache.

You yawn, then snicker at Grogu’s delighted face as he babbles what must be his version of Good Morning.

“Morning, kid.” You pet his ear and he begins to purr.

“You should stop babying him,” the Mandalorian doesn’t look at you as he searches among the weapons.

“Why? He’s a baby.”

Din shuts the doors to his stash. “He is fifty years old."

“He's what?”

Din shrugs and inclines his head in humor. You stare incredulously at the middle-aged child who rotates his little head between you and his father.

“His species is unknown, but they age differently than we do.”

“Uh, yeah. Fifty?”

Din’s modulator makes a rasping sound. It could’ve been a small laugh, but you’re not sure.

“Is fifty so terrible?”

Something in Din’s voice makes you look up at him. He casually leans against the hull.

Unsure if you should have the gumption to even ask, you stutter, “A-are you also fifty?”

The beskar mask does not move as the man behind it debates his reply. He decides on honesty.

“No,” Din states. He clasps one hand over the other in front of him, adding, “But I will reach that number in less than a decade.”

You make a small, accepting gesture as you had subconsciously placed him around his early forties anyway. In any case, it doesn’t matter to you. He is the Mandalorian who (somewhat inadvertently at first, you’ll admit) saved you. Even without that gratitude, you would feel an attraction to him. He was strong and kind and protective. Ruthless, sure, but only when necessary.

Din pushes off the wall, “You didn’t ask why I woke you.”

“Oh.” It hadn’t occurred to you, so used to being woken up - far more rudely or violently - each morning for the prior two decades. “Alright, why did you wake me?”

He reaches behind his back, unhooking an item, and holds out the fighting stick he had used in that skirmish between the two of you.

“I will teach you what I can.”

***

Din Djarin is careful not to touch you, even through his gloves. He doesn’t trust himself anymore. Instead, he instructs you in tactics. After clocking your strategy in less than three moves, Din is worried about your future opponents doing the same.

“You dislike giving ground, but there will be times you’ll have to. It’s how you will outmaneuver them,” the Mandalorian stands, hands folded, his knee cocked, as he speaks.

“How do you know that?” You ask in response to his first statement.

Din clenches his jaw at the memory so very close to other memories, and answers you in a contained voice, “You were not subtle.”

You smile, abashed. “See, that is why I asked you. I’m far too inexperienced.”

Din closes his eyes in frustration.

You continue nervously, thinking about how hesitant he had been to agree to this, “My master took me to many fights, and you’re the best I’ve ever seen. I value your opinion.”

Din is used to compliments. Those whom he returned quarries to often praised him for his work. But your praise is one he actually wants, and something throbs in his chest. Then he grows irritated with his rampant, immature yearning for you.

Din speaks harshly, “This is for the protection of the child. You are his guardian when I am not nearby.”

Locked onto that T-shaped, black slit, your eyes flicker a little at his callous, impatient pronouncement, but you nod.

“Of course. For the kid.”

__________________________________

Unhappy to be removed from where he had curled up on his father’s pilot seat, Grogu had insisted upon sleeping in the cockpit with his little metal ball. You had assured the Mandalorian that you didn’t mind staying in the passenger chair for the night. The cushions were comfortable enough, and it made the child happy.

An hour after Grogu had begun purring in his sleep, you’re brought to consciousness by a deeper, labored sound. Bolting to your feet, worried about the Mandalorian below, you descend the ladder.

The door to the Mandalorian’s bunk had not fully closed, apparently jamming on some loose junk part that Grogu must’ve picked up. There is no light on in the enclosed space, so you cannot see him. But you can hear the way he mutters your name once, rough and agitated. You can hear the sound of material jerking and his rasping, vocoded grunts.

Your throat tightens and your breathing stops. Eyes wide, you slowly back up, terrified for him to find you in this way. A molten weight in your stomach wants you to push open the door and take care of him, but after the manner in which he spoke to you the entire afternoon, and the obvious way he tries to forget about that day in the field, you can’t. You can’t even fathom why he would be uttering your name. It’s too confusing.

Dazed, you return to the cockpit and try to block him out. Sleep does not come to save you for far too long, and when it does, it provides you no escape from the Mandalorian.

__________________________________

Din’s tortured use of your name had kept you awake far into the night. When you groggily open your eyes the next morning, you know you won’t be able to let this go. You must talk to him. Bravery is a muscle you’re trying to flex anyway, so you might as well try it on the scariest thing you can think of: an angry Din Djarin.

While Grogu plays with a ship part you pretend to have never seen, one Din had pried out of the receiving slot of his bunk door this morning, you and he traipse down the boarding ramp, intending to save the rest of the Gornt meat for traveling.

Absolutely guessing at how you’ll begin this conversation, you decide you’ll just hope for the best.

“I- I heard you last night.” It’s barely more than a whisper.

The Mandalorian stops dead in his tracks and you stumble, trying not to run into him. He turns on you, a solid wall of muscle and metal, but says nothing. You swallow and force what shred of courage you have to the front.

“I heard you say my name. You don’t have to do that alone. I can help you,” your final words are almost inaudible.

The Mandalorian provides food, shelter, and companionship. Ignorant to any kind of normal relationship, friendly or greater, you want to show your gratitude. And if that was how you could help him, all the better.

Your inner self, the one that’s been unthawing since the day your master was frozen in carbonite, wants Din in a far more genuine manner. You want him. His compassion and honor, his fatherly love for Grogu, his non-pitying care for you, and his primal confidence have you in danger of becoming a hopeless devotee.

“Help me,” he reiterates, his tone worryingly neutral.

“Passage for assistance,” you try to ease the tension slightly with another old quote of his. “I can still assist you. It’s repayment for your aid.”

Even as you say it, you feel the depth of the lie. You want Din for yourself.

He’s silent. At his side, the fingers on his right hand fidget. The broad bounty hunter leans over you. As he tilts his head, the cold sun glints off his armor.

Din’s voice is as sharp as his vibroblade but twice as lethal, “You are no longer a slave - do not make me say that again. This is not a business transaction.”

Not a business transaction? While technically a rejection, his clarification makes you dizzy. Your breath comes out shakily, fogging in the chill air.

“Okay. What if that’s not my real reason for asking?”

That does it. Stunned, the Mandalorian might as well be a statue made of beskar. Din had found it easy to believe you allowed him to touch you because you felt in his debt, and he hated it. Made him feel as slimy as a Hutt.

“Tell me.”

Din watches your facial expressions run the gamut and he knows that whatever you’re about to say is the truth.

“I care about you.” Will you ever stop whispering? “For you, not just what you’ve done for me,” your second greatest act of bravery this morning is touching his cold chestplate. You swallow as you look up into that blank face.

Din doesn't move. Doesn't think he can move, but then his body responds before his mind does. Soft leather brushes your cheekbones as he takes your face in his large hands. He tilts his cold helmet to your forehead, and you instinctively close your eyes, sighing in relief. This was not what you were expecting when you followed him out here.

You can't hear the first thing he says, but it sounds like dank farrik. You laugh quietly in his hands.

"You are a menace,” he mutters a little louder, the modulator somehow enhancing the timbre of his voice. “You and the kid.”

Grinning, you open your eyes as he lifts his helmet from your skin. “Don’t bring him into this,” you joke.

Din’s thumb ghosts across your lips and you shiver. The Mandalorian is calm. This is inevitable now. He need not fight himself any longer. He grasps your wrist and brings it upward. Gently guiding your fingers underneath the edge of his helmet, Din presses them to his lips.

Utterly shocked at this new gift, you gasp. A scratchy cloth wraps around the bottom of his chin, but above it, his soft, scruffy facial hair and plump lips make your skin tingle. Nerves jumble in your lower stomach. He presses another kiss before slowly lowering your hand.

You tell him disbelievingly, "I thought there was no way -”

“What you thought was wrong.”

Your heat signature rises at the sincerity in his voice. Din tilts his head, watching your reaction to him. He lets his covered fingers drift over your lips again, then he drags them down the column of your throat and past your exposed collarbone, enjoying your whimper. Your pupils are dilated.

“You want me now, don’t you?” He asks, his voice hoarse.

You nod, whispering past your suddenly dry mouth, “Yes.”

The Mandalorian crouches for a split second, hefting you into his arms with no effort. Your legs automatically wrap around his middle, arms around his neck. His hands clasp underneath your thighs as he strides up the loading ramp as though every second he delayed was one wasted.

Din lays you out on his bunk and hits the button for the door without looking at it. He does not turn on the light. In the tiny, black room, you can hear him divesting himself of his flight suit and armor. It makes your heart throw itself against your chest. You sit up and struggle out of your own clothes, wanting nothing between you and him.

“Will I ever get to kiss you?” You ask timidly.

Din answers you immediately. His rough palms bracket your face, then he reverently pushes his lips into yours. His facial hair brushes against your skin and you weakly moan into his mouth, parting your lips for more. The Mandalorian groans, as well, enraptured by this new sensation.

Din wraps a muscled arm around your waist, crushing you to him in the small space. His warm, broad chest forces yours to mold around him. Your hands gently drag along his torso, mapping him. He shudders underneath your fingers.

His lips break like waves around yours. You could be floating above the bed and it would feel no different. He kisses you like it’s what he needs to survive; his occasional noises of desperation stake your heart and dampen your thighs.

“Need to touch you everywhere,” Din’s real, untampered voice knots your stomach.

“You can do whatever you want,” you breathlessly repeat the unspoken affirmation you’d given him the first time.

He chuckles, and you shiver again, drunk with lust. Din lowers you back onto the hard bed, settling over you.

His hot mouth surprises the sensitive skin of your breast. Din moans, involuntarily you think, as he tastes you there, gently pulling and sucking. You jerk, pressing up into him with a cry. Who knew that could feel so good?

His big hands flow down your sides, pressing into you, exploring, and you get a burst of understanding. This man is starved.

Your hands comb into his hair, and while you wonder what its color is, you’re choked up to find that it’s soft and wavy. Din groans loudly when your fingers rub on his scalp. He seems invigorated by it as he growls and returns to your lips with a fever. His tongue demands you allow him inside, but there is no resistance on your end.

Suddenly, Din breaks the kiss with a wet pop of his lips. He vanishes from above you, but then two large hands slide up your thighs. He pushes them apart and your breath hitches.

“You trust me?” The Mandalorian knows the answer, he just wants to hear it.

Nodding dumbly in the dark, you realize he can’t see you and squeak, “Yes.”

He shifts down and presses a row of kisses up your inner thigh. His nose brushes your coarse hair, and your breathing breaks a second time.

Din flattens his tongue and licks the spot he already knows you like. You jolt and his arms wrest around your thighs, holding you in place for him. You whimper as he buries his face in your folds, shocking your system. Your hands return to his hair, and his chest swells as he quickly shoves you toward your end. His nose continually nudges your bundle of nerves and each time it feels like you’re hurtling through hyperspace.

Your back arches when he traps your clit between his lips, and he responds with another obscene noise. This time, the vibration of his deep voice rips your orgasm from your marrow. Crying out his name, you quake, chest heaving through the waves of euphoria.

Too overwhelmed by all his options, Din moves back to your mouth, breathing heavily himself, “Incredible.”

He licks into you again, his hand cradling your face to allow him deeper. Taking advantage of his position, you wrap your legs around his trim waist, pulling him down. His hips cant toward you, and you feel his length fall onto your abdomen. You hadn’t forgotten how big he was, but the heft of it makes your body tremble.

The Mandalorian could be a patient man, but this would never be one of those moments. Din fists himself, rubbing once along your soaked seam. He pushes forward, steadily feeding his cock into your tight, forgiving heat. Din grunts several times, overstimulated.

“You don’t know what you’ve done, mesh’la,” he gruffly murmurs, his naked voice still so shocking to hear.

You have no idea what he means, and you file it away for later study. Solely focused on how he feels halfway inside you, you clutch at the back of his thick thighs, encouraging him. But then he snaps his hips, driving himself to the hilt.

“Din, oh,” you sharply gasp.

He grinds his pubic bone into your mound, stimulating you; his chin tilts up, proud, when you shudder. The Mandalorian grabs one of your hands and brings it to where he’s joined with you.

“You feel that?” Din’s voice is weighty, meaningful.

“Mhm,” you sigh, your fingers leaving his hand to explore his dark curls. He’s right. The deviant way his thick member disappears inside you is intoxicating.

He languidly draws himself out, letting you experience every ridge and vein, pulsing with your filthy sounds. He re-enters you just as intentionally, and when he’s given you everything, he leans down and drags you into a kiss. A kiss that means something to him. His tongue surges through your mouth in a single stroke before his full lips pull on yours, one hand gripping the back of your neck.

He lets you go, trailing his mouth down your throat, obsessed with the taste and the feel of you on his skin.

Din returns to your lips, his forearms framing your head. His fingers twist in your hair, and he begins to pump faster. His length strokes along a spot that makes your eyes flutter in the pitch blackness. Your nails carefully rake at his toned back, drawing a strangled moan from him as he shoves himself inside again and again. Losing a measure of self-control, he thrusts hard, placing a palm on the back wall for stability.

Your hands finally, finally, reach up for his face, expecting at any moment that he’ll stop you. His lips are parted as he pants in exertion, his facial hair fluttering with his breath. Din’s cheekbones are round and high; his nose is angular and fitting.

“I knew you were handsome,” you praise, the words fluctuating in cadence with his pounding strokes. “Wouldn’t have mattered.”

He scoffs, barely conscious of what you’re saying. His forehead drops to yours again, and he can’t believe the life he’d known had unraveled so drastically. In under a year, Din had gained a child and this.

“Turn over,” he orders.

Of course, you obey without hesitation.

His calloused fingers slide around your hips, pulling them upward. With your chest still pressed into the bunk, you moan when he slowly re-inserts himself. He nearly chokes when your body draws him in; the angle and drenched grip of you makes him shake his head in disbelief.

“You okay?” He rumbles.

Your chin scrapes on the metal bed as you nod, “Please move.”

He clasps an arm around your middle, hunching forward. His scruff and lips tickle the top of your spine as he begins to rut into you. It’s already too much - Din grunting, his chest hair scratching your upper back, his muscled arms holding you in place as he fills you over and over. You begin to clench around him again, crying out harshly in a rush of pleasure. Your legs shake, giving out underneath you.

The Mandalorian’s large hand splays across your breast, and he pulls you backward onto your knees alone, welding you to his perspiring chest. As his length plunges up into you, his lips brush your ear. He’s whispering something, but you can't understand the words.

Then, Din exhales with a groan and rolls several long, pulsing strokes, burying his come as deep as he can with a final, gravel-filled grunt.

***

In the dark, there’s only the sound of two people fighting for breath. Din has leaned against the cool wall; he tugs you to him. You sit somewhat beside him, your legs tangled together. Your head rests on his heaving shoulder, and every now and then, you feel the press of his lips in your hair. He laughs once, quietly.

“What is it?”

“Your life is not the only one that has changed.”

Blinking rapidly, your heart glows with warmth. Yours had changed the most. This Mandalorian had come into your non-existence and given you everything. Courage, freedom, responsibility, love.

“I know you like to fight, but this is one I’ll win,” you laugh softly.

___________________________________

Tagging:

@morks-watermelon

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic #pedro pascal #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #my writing #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #my fics #personal #grogu

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morallyinept · 5 months

Text

D!! I'm a little busy right now, sweetie. What's up?

What do you mean there's not enough potatoes?! You had one task, buddy!

Alright, alright. I'm going to need you to run down to the store and see if they have some more. Here, take my car...

Why are you looking at me like that? Dieter, are you high?

Wait, you don't look so hot... OH SHIT!

Marvellous. Now I need to change my shirt. Thanks, D. 😑

Javi! Can you go to the store and get some more potatoes for me? Dieter isn't feeling so good, I think he took something-

I see... well, at least I know where he got the LSD from. 🤨

Yeeeah, I love you too bud, just... sleep it off, okay?

Honestly those two... Frankie, have the other Pedro Boys started to arrive yet?

That's a negative? Okay, great we still have time.

Have you seen Dave? Oh, he's keeping a look out for the boys too?

Is that really necessary? I mean, it's just a turkey dinner... I don't think we need heavy artillery.

Okay fine. Carry on with the perimeter checks... As you were, Pilot. 🫡

Marcus, it smells really good in here. How's the meringue coming along?

Urm, the eggs are supposed to go into the bowl dude, not the sink. Focus!

Jack, you got a handle on the fire there, cowboy? You sure? It's looking a little out of control...

Well okay. If you say so. At least one of you is helpful today... sheesh. 🙄

Marcus? Are you dressed yet? Can I borrow a shirt? Dieter threw up on mine... Marcus?

What are you doing in there?! You know what, I don't wanna know...

Marcus, that sock looks awfully sticky... Wait a minute, is that MY sock?? 😶 No, you can keep it... just get dressed, would you?

MAX! Oh my God! Put her down, we don't eat the guests!

Javi, are you going to do anything to help me get these boys under control, or are you just going to sit there looking pretty?

Ezra, take your suit off, we're not going to the moon for Thanksgiving dinner... Remember what happened the last time you went? I'd prefer you to keep your remaining limbs in tact today... In fact, stay way from the carving knife.

Speaking of, Joel! Can you come carve the turkey for me please?

Oh, for crying out loud...

Oberyn, can you light the candles please?

I mean, sure, but they're just candles, bub. No need to lose your head...

Tim! Where did you get Chinese food?? We're about to sit down and eat!

Din! Dank farrik, DIN!

Can you please keep Grogu from eating the cookies! They're for later...

Pero, I hope you're not helping yourself... Those bread rolls are for everyone.

Seriously, boys. You all need to calm down and help!

I don't think I can handle much more carnage today-

Jack, honey. Was that you...?

Well boys, looks like we're ordering out... 🙄 Sigh.

Tim, what's the number for that Chinese place?

HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

Although I'm British and we don't really celebrate, I'm so thankful for all of you lovely people.

All of you lovely writers, mutuals, followers, silent lurkers, friends and, of course, the Pedro Boys (and all the chaos that comes with them).

Eat, drink and be merry today, if you're celebrating. And try not to blow the place up. 😬

🖤

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captainkirkk · 8 months

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

fill in the blanks by mindshelter

"You?” Tim blurts. Holy shit. “You’re Kon?”

A nod. “Are you in any pain?” he asks again.

Kon’s skin is sun-kissed, cheekbones dusted with a fine smattering of freckles; he is, without exaggeration, the prettiest person Tim has ever seen. “No, I’m—great,” he says, fidgeting. “Do you, uh, come here often?”

Kon raises a brow. “To the medbay?” he intones. “Definitely more often than I’d prefer."

Fault Line by sElkieNight60 (+ podfic)

Part 1 of Tectonics

"You’re invulnerable…” he whispers, but it’s clear that fact falters in his mind.

Confusion writes its way into the lines on Conner’s face and Clark takes a step back as though physically pushed.

“You��re not invulnerable.”

It is a statement, dull like stone.

“N-no, sir.”

— 🦸 —

OR: Conner's not as invincible as Clark thought. Suddenly, he's a lot more human.

Danny Phantom x DC

The Business of Family by Spaced_Ace

Jazz remembered the way their parents loomed in the living room as they’d laid out that verdict. Ever-present weapons gleaming, standing in such a way that they blocked access to both the front and back entrances. Their eyes had been what struck her the most of that horrible tableau. What made her stomach fill with jagged stones and drenched her back in a frigid sweat. The way they looked at her little brother, their gazes cold and hollow and -

Hungry.

(Things are not well in Amity Park.

With the GIW getting more and more aggressive and their parents becoming ever more suspicious of Danny each day that passes, Jazz knows that they're running out of time. It's not safe, and their options are painfully limited. Out of sheer dumb luck or a little intervention from Clockwork, she manages to discover a distant relative that just might be their salvation.

If asked Oswald Cobblepot would say that it's just good business. Adopting a few kids had done wonders for Bruce Wayne's reputation, why not his? It's not like he can't afford to put them somewhere out of the way if they get to be a problem. It's just business. Nothing more.

(His soft heart says otherwise))

The Witcher

Words of Love by ForestWren

"I should warn you,” Jaskier said between kisses in the soft darkness of the shed, “That I know some… very interesting people. You may want to avoid meeting them.”

“I’ve dealt with the Redenian court for decades. Your friends can’t be worse than that.”

Five times Radovid meets Jaskier's friends and family, plus one time they are alone.

Star Wars x The Mandalorian

Master Skywalker: The Absolute Worst by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Din got to his feet. He patted Boba on the shoulder affectionately.

“You should watch the recording of Skywalker fighting the death troopers,” he said, then pressed a kiss to Boba’s cheek and told Grogu to stop eating his blocks.

Boba watched the recording. He was pretty sure he would never be the same again. He was positive that he never wanted to meet Skywalker ever again.”

Boba Fett falls for Luke Skywalker. It isn’t the funnest thing he’s ever done.

Original Works

Call Me Menace by wingedcat13

You, Synovus, are a respectably terrifying supervillain. Your main rivals, a pair of superheroes named Legionnaire and Athena, are actually respectable as heroes. You hate having to stoop to kidnapping their child - but you hate more what the kid's behavior implies.

if it don't hurt now (just wait a while) by quandaries_and_contradictions

Part 27 of mage in a wolf pack

When the hunters first take him, Jaime knows everything will be okay.

He’s scared, of course. He wants his mom and dad and little sister. But he knows it’s going to be okay — because the wolves who protect his town will come for him. Lada’s mother and father and papa won’t let the hunters get away with this. All he has to do is hold on until they get here.

Months later, he's not so sure.

Stranger Things

No One Rides For Free by weird_witchcraft

"Are you okay Harrington?” Eddie asks gently, “Need me to get anyone?”

“No one to get,” replies Steve, so soft Eddie barely catches it. “You think I want anyone seeing me like this?”

Eddie Munson stumbles across Steve Harrington crying next to a bush at Tina's party and makes it his mission to cheer him up.

Clone Wars

mirci't be uja by ihathbenobiwankenobied for whitchry9

Obi-Wan is usually good at keeping track of his blood sugar levels–because he has to be–but this time, it’s out of his control.

(Or, a diabetic Obi-Wan is thrown for a loop after crashing on an unknown planet. Stim does his best to keep his General alive)

#hopefully this makes your monday a bit better #weekly fic round up #my posts #sw recs #original works recs #stranger things recs #dc recs #dp recs #witcher recs #fic recs

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papurgaatika · 3 months

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All The Quiet Nights You Bear

Pairing: din djarin x gn!reader

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

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

word count: 1.8k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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angelltheninth · 1 year

Note

Babygirl Din + 12. “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

Omg, the angst coming out of this one, I can sense it through the screen.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Tags: fluff, angst, confession, fear of loss, doubt, insecurity, helmet kisses, chin kisses, soothing kisses, soft!Din Djarin

Word count: 0.6k

A/N: Din does give babygirl energy, you're so right there Anon!

12. “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

Din had been even more distant then normal lately. He's not the man of many words, he never was never the type of person to talk a whole lot after missions but these past few have been incredibly conversation dry. Not only that but he didn't want to celebrate with you anymore, made you wonder if it was something you did.

"You're fine. I just have a lot of things to do, between Grogu and visiting Bo-Katan, I don't have time for chit-chatting." That was a load of shit and you knew it.

"But you have time to run around the galaxy with me at your convenience. And I know its not tough jobs either Din, you could handle those on your own and take the reward for yourself." It was almost laughable, the types of bounty missions you went on. Easy money, but also very easy missions, not something that was dangerous or challenging. "I love partnering up with you but you've been sending me so many mixed signals as of late. Hasn't anyone ever told you its not wise to play with a woman's heart?"

"Good thing I'm not trying to. You're the one who said you wanted to hang out with me more, isn't that what we've been doing?" Din settled back into his pilot seat and turned to look at you.

You threw your hands in the air, unbelievable, he was unbelievable, "I meant outside of missions. We used to be better friends then this. We used to... be closer."

He was a dad now and that took a lot of his time. You were happy that he was taking the role so seriously, not many in his line of work would. It was a quality of his that you were very much drawn to. But he still made time for you too before, he brought Grogu along. Oh, oh no. Did... did Grogu not like you?

"Grogu loves you a lot actually." Din spoke up and replied to your apparently spoken out loud question, "That's not the problem."

"Then what is Din? Please tell me, what's the problem between us?" You surged forward and pinned the Mandalorian flat into his chair, hands on either side of his head. No escaping you now.

He seemed to shrink back into his chair, a funny sight for such a badass Mandalorian, "I think I'm in love with you and I'm... I'm terrified." His helmet almost blocked out his entire confession with how silent his voice was just then.

"Huh?!" You tried to back away but Din caught your hands. No escape for you either as he pushed them slowly against his helmet, "I-In love with me? Since when?"

"I don't know... exactly. Might have happened when were we trapped together on that ice planet, or on our undercover mission to the Casino. All I know is, its been scary going on missions with you. I know you yourself have a reputation to uphold, but when I'm with you I don't prioritize the mission, I prioritize you." So that's why its been easy pickings lately, he can mess them up even if he's distracted. "I know this isn't what you thought you'd hear but Grogu's been talking me into this for some time now. I promised him I'd try."

Anything for his kid, what a good dad.

"I wish you hadn't told me this now." You heard him grunt and saw his shoulders slack, fully expecting your rejection, "Because I don't think I can focus now either." You planted a quick kiss on his helmet and then an even quicker one on his jaw as you lifted the helmet up just enough. Din whined when your lips came into contact with his skin, "Oh I definitely won't be able to focus now." You teased, letting his adjust his helmet again.

"Kriff you." Din mumbled and you could almost imagine the blush on his face. One day you would see it for yourself, maybe sooner then you thought.

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fluff #din djarin imagine #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fluff #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fluff #the mandalorian imagine #star wars imagine #mando x reader #mando x you #mando fluff #mando imagine #star wars x female reader #din djarin x female reader #x female reader

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creedslove · 1 year

Note

Hey, can I have a story like this: The reader's dog, whose name is Mando or Grogu, runs away (maybe during a thunderstorm). Fortunately, the dog has a collar with an address and phone number. Pedro is the one who finds the dog and phone calls to the reader. And they meet when he returns dog to her. Of course the reader is grateful so he invites Pedro to dinner and he agrees!

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Warnings: none, just fluff

A/N: this is short and sweet and also kinda silly. I wasn't going to write anything as I'm sick but I figured I would feel better if I spread some Pedro love 💕

You checked your phone each passing second in hopes to see if someone had any news of your puppy. Your sweet little Mando had been missing for more than twelve hours and your heart was shattered.

Ever since that stupid thunderstorm the night before, your lovely stray pup had run away in fear as the loud thunder noises were too much for his small sensitive ears and when he found just the tiniest gap in the fence after you forgot the door half open, he was gone.

Luckily to you, Mando had a collar with all the information someone with good intentions could contact you but you were truly worried about someone who didn't have good intentions… you tried avoiding these thoughts but at the same time they kept intruding. Your dog was so cute, you worried someone would also think your dog was cute to the point of keeping it to themselves.

It was mid afternoon when your phone finally rang and you answered in a heartbeat.

The relief you felt washed over you like a crashing wave when the male voice announced he'd found your puppy. He suggested a bakery some blocks away from your place and you arrived there in less than fifteen minutes.

You looked all over for your puppy and the moment you heard his small barks you rushed to him, thankful to know your puppy was alright.

"Mando!!!!" You squealed and saw when he jumped off the man's lap and ran to you, sniffing you all over and scratching your legs softly wanting all the petting in the world.

You picked him up and giggled, scratching under his ears and chin seeing how he wiggled his tail. You checked on him to make sure Mando was alright and finally took a look at the man who had your dog. Your smile died as you noticed who he was.

Pedro had a soft smile on his face and took off his sunglasses.

"So… Mando?" He asked finding it amusing how your cheeks took a crimson shade.

"I-I…" you stuttered feeling so embarrassed and shy at his presence, he was taller than you imagined and he looked stronger too.

And holy shit he was way more handsome in real life than in the picture as if that was even possible.

"I'm sorry, hi… my name's Y/N and you're Pedro… yeah, my puppy's name is Mando, and I obviously like your work, but I swear to God I don't call you daddy on the internet or keep making glittery edits of your pictures'' you blurted out all at once making him laugh.

"It's alright, Y/N… I think Mando is adorable and well, he was very hungry and scared when he showed up in my backyard this morning, so I gave him plenty of water and ran by the store to get him some dog food, I hope it's alright" he said gently and touched your hand, seeing you were nervous at his presence.

You nodded and smiled "sorry Pedro, I know I'm acting weird, I was just not expecting to see you…meet you" you blushed "but it was very nice of you to take care of Mando and return him to me… do you think we could maybe have some coffee or a slice of cake?" You pointed at the bakery entrance and smiled big as he nodded.

"Sure, let's go, Y/N" he placed his hand on the small of your back and walked you inside.

You felt so lucky to have found Mando and Pedro in only one afternoon.

_____

Got any requests? Send them in!

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal headcanons #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal request #pedro pascal requests #pedro pascal fluff

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darklordofthesimp · 2 years

Text

Solace (Din Djarin x Reader)

The Mandalorian had been missing for three days, leaving you with a 50-year-old baby and an unreliable ship. You've had days to think about your feelings for your employer, his absence was the catalyst for a terrifying realization.

Requested by Anon: #3 I thought you were dead!

A/N: dont mind the low quality, just a lil fluff to brighten your day as I try to get back into the groove of writing again after a huge course and interstate Army fuckery.

Category: Fluff - Hurt/Comfort - Mutual Pining

Your heart was lodged firmly in your throat.

You couldn't breathe.

Din was late.

He wasn't late by an hour or two, nothing as trivial as missing dinner when it's called. No, the Mandalorian was three days late. It started off okay, the type of delay that seemed like a minor inconvenience at first. Now, you were at a loss.

It was supposed to be an easy task, a light job that'd get you the credits you needed for parts, something small just to get the ship back up and running again. There wasn't much you could do on the move, you just needed to get the Crest and its occupants back to Tatooine so you could use Peli and her workshop.

"Shit," you hissed, dropping the spanner and cradling your hand to your chest.

You were becoming sloppy with your work, your mind working a million miles an hour but not focusing on the task at hand. There was a light gurgle from beside you and you sucked your teeth, guiltily glancing down at your companion.

"Sorry," you muttered, "bad language. Don't tell your dad."

The kid muttered something to himself in a language you could never hope to understand. He was always so vocal, the complete opposite of his found father, and the comparison was comical. Grogu would yammer for hours on end, forcing the usually reserved hunter into a conversation that had you on the outs.

But you didn't mind.

It was heartwarming, watching the both of them interact always tugged at something in your chest. You tried to ignore it on the best of days, but sometimes, in the quiet of your mind, you held onto that feeling tightly.

"You got any idea where dad is, kiddo?" You prod smilingly, cheeks twinging from the falsity of it all. Keeping it together was the main priority, Grogu could sense your inner turmoil and the last thing you wanted to do was panic him.

A small sigh was your only response and you didn't push.

Fear pooled in your stomach at the sheer longing you felt. You actually missed him. Genuinely. It was a feeling that surprised you, to begin with. Sinful thoughts of your employer had always been suppressed into the deepest parts of your mind, but this one was so glaringly obvious that you couldn't stow it anywhere.

You missed Din, you were worried for him and his safety and you had come to terms with that realization hesitantly.

The sun's were setting over the long stretch of sand and you knew that the kid would start whinging soon. Din had fallen into the accidental tradition of taking his son outside to watch the sun set. The little thing had never let it go, you supposed he thought you were good enough company in the absence of his father.

Sure enough, you heard the beginnings of light grumbling from below you.

"If you give me two seconds to just close up this job," you strained against the spanner, "we can go watch the sunset together, sweetheart."

There was an excited squeal in response and the patter of his feet against durasteel.

"I would like that."

You spun on your heels, tripping backward into the panel you'd been working out of. Instinctively, you launched your spanner as hard as you could at the source of the noise, terror gripping your lungs tightly.

There was no chance for it to strike true before it was snatched out of it's trajectory. Your chest heaved against the racing pace of your heart as you tried to recover.

"Din!" You gasped, drinking in the sight of the Mandalorian from your crumpled position. He was as glorious as ever, standing tall in the entrance, beskar reflecting the floodlight across the bay.

He was here.

The hunter said nothing, leaning down to tenderly pick up the kid that whined at his feet. You reached for the light switch dumbly, unable to tear your eyes away.

He was back. Thank the fucking Maker.

There was no more dialogue between the both of you, his attention entirely on the bundle of cloth and giggles resting in his arms. You couldn't believe your eyes. It was logical that he'd eventually make his way back to you but you hadn't exactly planned what you'd do when he finally showed.

Finally, the hunter seemed ready to acknowledge you, placing the Child down just as gently as he had collected him. The kid snatched the spanner from Din's fingers, moving to entertain himself with the usually forbidden new toy.

When he stood straight again, you sucked in a breath.

"You run into any issues?" He murmured, his visor running along the length of your body. Your heart dropped at his impassioned question- but your core tightened at what his gaze implied. Heat flushed through your system and you couldn't tell whether it was anger or longing that had you by the throat.

"Is that all you can say?" You sneered, pushing off from the wall behind you. Correcting your form and swiping imaginary dust from your pants, you glared at him. "That's what you want to start with?"

"What would you suggest?" Din's words were painfully calm.

The Mandalorian had a temper, you had seen it over and over throughout your time with him, but there was something about the way he spoke that had you on edge.

You weren't sure whether it was really his fault. Nothing had truly changed. He spoke to you the same way he always had: detached, professional, and always just beyond reach. It was only now that you expected anything more and it was because your feelings had shifted- not his.

To him, you were the same.

His employee.

"You were gone," you spat.

"I was busy."

You needed to step away. Becoming emotional over something like this was a sure way to expose yourself. This job was critical, the money was good and you had nowhere else to go.

"Whatever," you snapped, crouching to stuff your tools into their weathered canvas bag. "The least you could do is let me know when you're going to go AWOL on me. I didn't sign up to be a babysitter."

There was the familiar silence of Din deliberating his next sentence, and you welcomed it graciously. You didn't want to talk to him, you didn't want to look at him- a cold shower and a drink was the only solution you could scrape up.

You stood to your full height and your heart stuttered in your chest. The hunter now stood before you, so close that your nose skimmed the beskar plating. You could smell smoke and pine, it was overpowering but not unpleasant.

Where had he been?

"What's your problem?" The words were tight and confused, and you knew your shift in attitude had him frustrated.

You raised a brow, pointing the end of your spanner to rest against his chest plate. "You're telling me that you don't see an issue with you disappearing for three days?"

"It's part of the job," Din said thinly, almost instinctive in reaction. "It's not unexpected."

You ground your teeth, the tool you held pressing harder into his armour. "You don't say."

"You're being unreasonable," the hunter huffed, resting his hands against his hips.

"I thought you were dead!" You snapped, adrenaline flooding your system and prickling your skin. "What would I have done?"

There was a long pause as you processed what you'd just blurted. You wanted to hide, you wanted to crawl into a hole and die- saved from an eternity of embarrassment.

Din tilted his head, the smallest of sounds slipping from beneath the beskar. He rocked back on his heels once, then twice, a slow nod being the only dialogue he offered.

"What am I supposed to do with a green baby and a bunch of guys in carbonite-" you tried to recover the situation, throwing the lie of self-preservation at the hunter as hard as you could.

"You were worried," he murmured, interrupting your rambling. The words died in your mouth and turned to ash, trailing off until you fell silent. You blinked dumbly at his words. He was waiting for your confirmation, but the way he stood told you that he already knew he was right.

Would it be so bad if you said that you were? People can platonically worry for others, after all, it's not uncommon to become friends with colleagues.

But the way his hands fell from his belt, the way they rested at his side and twitched against his thighs- platonic was never part of the equation.

"You're upset because you were..." the Mandalorian began slowly, "worried about me?"

Your stomach fluttered and you cast your gaze to the floor, running your sights over every dent and scuff.

"Yeah," you rasped, the word weak and shaky.

Your heart stopped at the sensation of his gloves against your skin.

You didn't dare move, you couldn't even breathe, nothing to startle him or yourself from whatever was happening. The touch was innocent, shy even. Grazing his hand against the length of your forearm with a feather-light brush.

To some, it would have been child's-play.

To you, it was everything.

Disappointingly, but not surprising, his hand fell back to his side as subtly as he could manage, as if he were pretending it had never happened at all.

"I," he cleared his throat, "I was worried about you too."

Your mouth parted, then closed again, swaying back onto your heels lightly. Before you could think of something to say, anything to break the ice or continue further down that road, there was a small squeal from below you.

The Mandalorian stepped away from you so quick you had barely seen him move, his chest heaving against the beskar plate. His hands shook lightly as he reached to pick up the kid now tugging at his boot.

"I missed you too," he said with an uneasy chuckle.

You cleared your throat, the spell broken between you both. A cold sweat trickled down the length of your spine and you only then noticed how tense your whole body had been. Every joint was locked, every muscle tightened, you had to force yourself to breathe normally again.

"I'm going to go for a shower," you murmured to no-one, rubbing your sweaty palms against your pants lightly. Even the feel of the fabric beneath your skin wasn't enough to ground you from whatever emotion had you in it's hold.

"You, uh, you want to get something to eat?" Din offered quickly, his tone clearly uncomfortable.

You blinked at him.

"After your shower," he clarified, turning his gaze back towards the child.

"Yeah," you nodded, swallowing tightly. "If you'd like."

You hadn't expected a response when you turned around, you never really knew what to expect when it came to the Mandalorian. When someone was as predictably unpredictable as the hunter you lived with, you discovered that suprise was an ever-evolving emotion.

But, as you made your way toward the refresher on shaky legs, Din spoke.

"I'd like that."

Words that were so insignificant to most.

Those same words were everything to you.

#the mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #mandalorian x reader #din djarin #star wars #the mandalorian #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x you #baby yoda #grogu #mandalorian

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orcasoul · 4 months

Text

Warm or cold

Summery: You and Din work well together tracking and apprehending bounties but this one time it all goes wrong when you are put in mortal danger. Din makes him pay. No one hurts his Cyare!

Warnings: Swearing, brief mention of smut, under 18's DNI, no use of Y/N, fluff.

"Let's split up. Well flank him and cut him off!" Din yelled through the dense forest. You immediately break off to the right while Din veers to the left. It would be so much easier for him to use his jet pack but the thick and overgrown vegetation makes manoeuvring at high speed almost impossible. Besides, it definitely makes for a more interesting hunt when you're both working together. He never imagined you'd take to the bounty hunter life so naturally and he enjoys seeing the reaction it draws from you; Excitement, fearlessness and determination. He has finally met his equal in this line of work and he is relishing every moment of it.

You don't know if it's because of the adrenaline coursing through your veins like high voltage or maybe you're just hyper perceptive in tense situations but the forest seems to radiate with energy and life as you relentlessly pursue the latest bounty. The sunlight dappling through the thick canopy crates a dancing array of light and contrasting shadows alike. The various native birds grace the air with their unique songs and tweets that you've never heard anywhere else and the bountiful mossy ground feels like a plush carpet under your boots. Any other time you would have taken a moment to stop and appreciate the picturesque woodland but now is not the time. You have a job to do and you intend to execute that job with everything you have within you.

*****

It took a long time to finally convince Din to allow you assist him on hunts, well, the less dangerous one's, anyway. For months you'd been Grogu's nanny and had cared for and nurtured him, and even took care of Din when he'd return from hunts with injuries, despite his usual insistence that he didn't need help. But every time you'd fought him on it until he realised you're just as stubborn as he is and it was easier after a few disagreements to just let you help. You loved caring for the little 'family' you'd all created. Even if you were a very unorthodox family, they were your family none the less. So when Grogu Left with Luke Skywalker to learn the ways of the force the separation broke your heart, carving out a Grogu shaped crevice that only your little green son could ever fill again.

You missed him terribly but took solace knowing he's safe, and that you and Din will see him again soon. It was the agonising impact of Grogu's departure that forced you and Din to finally admit your feelings for each other, after months of subtle flirting, gentle touches and lingering glances. You both felt the loss of your son, profoundly and realised how suddenly things can change, for better or for worse and neither of you wanted to waste anymore time secretly yearning for one another. The truth came out the same day Grogu left and you've been a couple ever since. In the early weeks of your relationship Din wouldn't even entertain the idea of you joining him on hunts. The very thought of you in any kind of danger made his chest tighten with anxiety and his palms sweaty.

He'd always felt protective of you when you'd became Grogu's nanny and now that you are his, his Cyare, his protectiveness had increased tenfold. He know's you can handle yourself in tense situations, how you've never shied away from confrontations, that you're a hell of a shot with a blaster and very adept at self defense. You'd explained to Din when you'd first met him, during an altercation on Tatooine involving some sleazebag (whom you'd beaten the shit out of) that your father was a trained guard for the senator Prince Tal Merrik of Kalevala and he'd insisted that you learn how to fight and defend yourself in an unforgiving galaxy. It was after a lengthy discussion that he knew he could trust you with Grogu's safety and offered you employment.

As time went on he saw the bond you two had formed and he knew you'd love and defend his foundling with every fibre of your being and you were well able for it. But the fact that you were now so insistent on helping him catch bounties made his gut twist. He knew you'd felt increasingly restless and useless without Grogu around to care for and being cooped up on the Crest for days on end did nothing to stimulate your mind. As much as Din would have liked to shroud you in bubble wrap and keep you on the ship where it's safe, he know's he can't expect you to just exist there and wait for his return, so with great reluctance he finally gave in as long as the bounties were low threat. And now this is your life, detaining bounty after bounty, working together in perfect tandem, watching each other's backs and revelling in the post hunt high you both got after every successful capture.

You had no idea that seeing you outsmart and overpower the targets would make Din absolutely feral for you. After your first successful capture Din couldn't get you back to the Razor Crest fast enough! As soon as the quarry was frozen and out of the way Din all but slammed you into the cold steel wall of the ship, (while cupping the back of your head for protection. So caring, even in his lust filled haze!) wrapping your legs around his waist and pushing his hardened length along your clothed pussy. "Maker, Meshla. Seeing you handle that man like that,..." Din's voice came out in awe, one hand roving to cup your breast and the other gripping your hip, "I have to have you, right now!!" "Hmm... liked what you saw did you?" you purred as you pulled the cowl down from around his neck and planted wet and slow kisses all over the exposed area of tanned skin. That night the stars Din made you see could have put actual stars to shame as he pulled out orgasm after orgasm from your trembling body. If you'd known this would be his reaction you'd have suggested this teamwork a lot sooner!

*****

Running through the tightly packed undergrowth seemed to slow the Nikto down a bit, giving you an advantage to gain some crucial ground on him. Ferns and low lying vegetation whipped at you face and shoulders as if nature felt bad for this guy and tried to give him a sporting chance. But the sting barely registers through buzz pulsing through your system. As you get closer the adrenaline and anticipation seems to give you a much needed boost of energy. Through the trees ahead you can see a cliff, meaning the Nikto will have to change course. You watch as he suddenly stops for a few moments, desperately looking around before he turns slightly to the right to run alongside the cliff edge. Those moments were all you needed, along with the adrenaline burst to slink off to the right and disappear into the trees, to come out in front of him and cut him off.

The look of surprise on the Nikto's face brought a smug sense of satisfaction to you, even though you kept a 'professional' expression. "I can bring you in warm... or I can bring you in cold," you cautioned in an authoritative tone while holding your blaster on him. "Hey, that's my line," a calm modulated voice sounded from behind the bounty, causing him to turn around in alarm and raise his hand in surrender. You playfully smirked and shrugged at Din. "I got here first, so I get to say it." A small chuckle escaped Din's modulator at your self satisfied comeback. Din can't help but feel proud of your tenacity and for a moment you can feel that pride emanating from him, like an invisible string connecting and bonding you both. Maybe you should have paid more attention to the Nikto than your lover. Had you done that, you would have seen his gaze snap to your feet and to the liana snaking around your foot and trailing all the way to him.

Before your mind could even register what was happening you were flat on your back, the wind knocked out of you and your ears ringing from the impact of your head hitting the ground. Amidst yelling and shuffling you feel yourself being yanked harshly to you feet by your hair, every follicle screaming for release, as you try desperately to make your attacker unhand you. "Owww!" you shriek while digging your nails into his fingers, feeling the wet sludge of his blood seeping under your fingernails, but his hold only tightens. "Shut the fuck up!" he screams into your ear, loud enough to physically hurt your eardrum. A cold, sharp prick at you neck causes your eyes to snap open in fear as you realise you now have a knife pressed to your carotid. Din stands just feet away, chest heaving, blaster drawn, eager to find it's target.

The instant he saw you fall his blood turned white hot with rage. His chest constricted and he leapt forward without even thinking about it. All that mattered in that moment was protecting you. But he didn't move fast enough. "Drop the blaster or the bitch dies!" the Nikto demanded, pressing the knife slightly harder at your throat, drawing a trickle of blood. Din immediately threw down his blaster, holding his hands out in a show of cooperation. "There's no way out of this," Din growled in a deadly manner as the Nikto looked around him with fear in his eyes. He moved closer to the edge of the cliff, dragging you with him. Din's feet instinctively moved forward as he saw how precariously close you were to the edge. "Stop!" the Nikto shouted, his voice trembling with uncertainty. "Let her go and I won't kill you!" Din warned, his fury now radiating off of him, as if he could physically feel it bursting through his pores. How did the tables turn so quickly?

The look of terror in your eyes almost brought Din to his knees. He can't lose you, he won't! The Nikto seemed to frantically think through his options, the silence and uncertainty that came with it was intolerable. A few moments later he looked Din right in the T of his visor, a sickening smile spread across his face and a dark look in his eyes. "You can't catch us both, Mandalorian." And with that he flung you over the edge. "Noooo!!!" Din roared in sheer panic as he watched you being thrown like a rag doll into the open void below. The sound of your petrified scream will forever be rooted into his brain, torturing him in his subconsciousness. The Nikto sprinted off as Din launched himself over the cliff after you, igniting his jet pack.

The scream that tore from your throat is stolen by the brute force of rushing air, smothering you like an invisible blanket. Your limbs flail uselessly, reaching out and grabbing onto oxygen as if it could stop your downward plummet. You felt the urge to be sick as your stomach flipped and roiled as gravity claimed you, pushing you down faster and faster. Your eyes water furiously, the wind force whipping the tears across your temples and all the while you feel like your heart is going to explode from the insurmountable terror now consuming you. The ground is fast approaching, once small rocks becoming lager and more jagged the closer you get. If the wind wasn't already lashing at your eyes, you would have cried. The images of Din's helmet and Grogu's face flash before your eyes as you squeeze them closed and brace yourself for the bone shattering impact on the rocks below.....

Only the impact came from above, in the form of cold, hard Beskar and strong arms, tightly gripping your torso. In the literal blink of an eye ground began to get further away from you and your breath returned as you felt yourself ascend into the sky, the roar of thrusters replacing the wind howling past your ears. Still to frightened to fully realise what is happening you are twisted around, relief suddenly overwhelming you at the welcomed sight of Din's T-shaped visor. Your arms and legs automatically wind around his back and hips and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, holding on for dear life! It was probably only minutes later (but it felt like an eternity) that Din carefully touched down, back on the cliff side. At first you don't hear Din's voice through your panicked breaths and the blood pulsating deafeningly through your ears. "Cyar'ika!... Cyar'ika, It's over, you're safe. I've got you, I've got you," Din whispered gently, over and over into your ear, one arm holding you against him and his other hand rubbing soothing circles across your shuddering back.

You remain locked onto Din's frame, muscles still frozen and rigid, too afraid to move, too afraid to open your eyes. It was only when Din cupped your cheek and slowly pulled your face away from his shoulder did you open your eyes and look once again at that helmet you've grown to love so much. "That's right, keep looking at me," Din coaxed. "You're okay now, you hear me. It's okay." "Din!!" you sobbed in both fear and relief. You buried your face back into the crook of his neck and wailed, gripping his cloak with shaking hands. Din brought his hand to the back of your head, caressing your hair with slow strokes. He consoled you while you let it all out. "It's okay. I'm so sorry, cyare. I'm so sorry," he mumbled over and over until your trembling ceased and the tears dried up. "Let's get you home," Din insisted as he tightened his grip with both hands around your waist and took off above the treeline.

*****

You breathed a sigh of relief as you both touched down beside the Razor Crest. It felt good to have your feet on solid ground again. With the adrenaline long gone you feel your body crashing. All you want to do now is rest. Din pressed the button on his vambrace to lower the ramp, wrapped his arm protectively over you shoulders and led you inside. The ramp hissed closed and Din scooped you up bridal style and delicately sat you on a crate. "Are you hurt anywhere?" he asked, worriedly as he slowly ran his hands over your whole body, checking meticulously for any sign of injuries. You gingerly shake your head 'no' while looking down into your lap. Seeing you look so broken brought a lump to Din's throat. He removed his gloves, wanting to feel your skin, but more importantly, wanting you to feel his. He hopes the warmth of his skin can help to sooth you, bring you back to the hear and now. His hands cup both of your cheeks and you quickly grab onto his wrists for comfort.

"Din I..." you shaking voice barely passed your lips, "I thought I was going to die," at that your tears spilled once more. "I was so scared. I thought I'd never see you and Grogu again." Din tipped your wobbling chin up to look at him while rubbing up and down your arm. "Hey..." consoled Din, "you're alive, you're home, you're with me, okay? I won't let anyone hurt you ever again," he promised as he pulled you into his chest-plate in a comforting embrace. "Thank you," you sniffled in a small and doleful voice. Din smiled in relief, knowing that you're here, safe and unharmed, after all it could have ended so differently. "Let's get some rest, Meshla. You need it after today." Once Din had removed all of his armour (except for his helmet) he led you by the hand to your shared cot. Exhaustion now wracks your body as you lay down on the soft mattress. Din turned the light off and slid down beside you, the familiar hiss of his helmet disengaging, filling the tiny room.

His tucks you under his arm and into his broad chest, soft and tender lips finding the crown of your head. You sigh as you feel every muscles relax under his silky kiss and you reach up to smooth a hand over his stubbly jaw. "I love you," you breathed, quietly, never wanting to leave Dins' warm and safe arm's for as long as you live. "I love you too, baby... so much," Din emphasised the last two words, holding you close and secure as you gave into enervation. You sleep deeply, while Din lays awake, furious, imagining all the ways he can make that Nikto pay for what he did. But he's not just angry with him though, he's angry with himself. He shouldn't have let himself get distracted, he should have been faster, he should have expected every eventuality. He won't ever make that mistake again.

*****

You wake to the sound of the ramp being lowered and an empty bed. Opening the door to the sleeping compartment, you squint at the early morning sunlight flooding into the cargo bay. It takes a moment for your vision to become accustomed to the bright light. Din walks up the ramp with the bounty draped over his shoulder. Once in the cargo hold Din unceremoniously throws him down head first onto the floor. His chest isn't moving and his face is a broken and bloody mess. You look up to meet Din's eyes behind his visor. Din just shrugged, tilting his helmet slightly to the side. "He chose cold the moment he put his hands on you," he said casually. You offer an understanding smile and nod. Of course you understand. You would have done the same thing for Din. You wait in the cockpit while Din freezes the dead body to stop it from smelling. Upon reaching the cockpit Din sits in the pilot seat. "I don't want you coming on any more hunts," he blurts out while turning to face you in the co-pilots' seat. "Din-" you begin to protest but he cuts you off, "You almost died!" his voice cracks and he grabs your hands. "I can't lose you," he cried almost frantically.

You take a deep breath, "Din, I can't just stay hidden away here forever. What else am I supposed to do?" Din doesn't respond so you continue, "We both know the dangers involved with this kind of work. There's always going to be a risk but we've had each other's backs so far. I'm alive because of you, so please don't take this away from me." Din knows you have a valid point and he can't expect you to just sit and wait for him for the rest of your lives, but at the same time he's terrified of losing you. "I'll make a deal with you," he ventured. Your eyebrows shoot up in intrigue. "Go on....," you smile. "We can still work together but I'll cuff the quarries from now on and if at any time I tell you to run, you run, no questions asked." You consider this deal for a moment. You know Din is always concerned for your safety and how against his better judgement he's willing to compromise, so the least you can do is meet him half way.

You hold out your hand and smile, "Deal." Din looks down at your outstretched hand and snaps his visor back up to meet your gaze. "Close your eyes," he says in a low, smooth voice. You grin and do as you're told. You hear a hiss and a clunk before Din pulls you into his body and kisses you passionately, licking into your mouth and drawing a moan from you. You pull away breathless, your eyes still closed. "I like how you seal a deal!," you gasp, chest heaving and cheeks flushed. "I can do more than that to seal the deal," he chuckles darkly, as he scoopes you over his shoulder and carries you effortlessly to the sleeping chamber, while you giggle and squirm in his grasp.

Thanks for reading. There's plenty more Din Djarin to come over the next year. Please check out my master list. Comments and re-blogs are always appreciated.

#pedro pascal #din x reader #mando x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #mando #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian #din djarin x female reader

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space-blue · 2 months

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I watched the 3 season 3 TBB episodes and it's all again tying to Palpatine clones! And I am. Upset!! That EVERYTHING must now tie in to the Palpy clones because Disney just could not take the L on the "somehow Palpatine returned" meme.

So it's all about project necromancer, just like Mando all ended up being about cloning and Grogu's M count, and Kenobi had to rip JFO's entire ending to show us from Jedi in amber... I hate that it feels like a curse over anything coming out in this time period. Most importantly : it is SO boring.

Why must Disney ruin the punch and twist of its shows, when they could tell original stories? You want to engage us into dark sithly biddings?

GIVE US A GAME!!

If everything has to be about Palpatine doing necro shit keeping dead jedi in vats and using their blood to splice a force sensitive clone, then let me play that!

Give us a game in which

I do force sensitive children hunting!

Blood resource management!

Building evil bases across systems!

Sending minions (like Cad Bane or custom made inquisitors) on child kidnapping quests!

Let me build genetic facilities and unlock genetic and dark force skill trees! Let me do Sith factorio!!

Passing bills and racketeering entire systems to help fund my dark deeds!

Let me build up and repair Vader's amour, customize it, so he can go on more dangerous missions and harvest more force sensitives and rogue Jedi!

Chose the right dialogue to brainwash my inquisitors!

Have rebellion crushing minigames, and risk of losing precious DNA sources and rarefied Kaminoan cloning specialtists!

Let me give birth to deformed blobs that scream in pain and die, until I manage to craft the first Snoke!!

Let me play a Dark Sith Cloning Sim!! Let me be dark and fucked up!!!

Now that would be engaging and fun, and that would leave space for stories to be told during the empire and post empire eras that don't revolve around Palpatine's deals.

Of course it's 2D pixel art BTW.

#tbb #the bad batch #palpatine #sw #star wars #video game concept #resource management #blood; children; kaminoan scientists; dirty money...#you know how it goes #game concept #cloning

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nothing-at-the-moment · 1 year

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I don't think din ( – _ – ) knows mando'a.

I honestly don't.

In all the fan fiction it's always din calling the love interest cyar'ika Or cyare or ner K'arta or senaari'ika or mesh'la or saying "ni kartayl gar darasuum" And the love interest not understand until the love confession in basic.

I just want this with bo now. But roles reversed.

Hardcore mando royalty who grew up on mandalore and kalevala talking to him in mando'a assuming he understand but din just being happy to listen to her because her accent changes a bit when she speaks in her native language but still not understanding shit.

Bo giving grogu mando'a lessons and din taking notes from behind the curtain.

"You and your dad are ner aliit. It means you're my family"

He's suffocating behind the curtain.

#din djarin #the mandalorian #grogu #dinbo #bodin #bo katan x din #din djarin x bo katan kryze #is it djinbo now?#or borin?#bokarin?#bokadjin?#bokatarin?#bodjin?#they're not borin for sure

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ooops-i-arted · 10 months

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filoni called anakin "the greatest jedi of all time" in the ahsoka sneak peak lmaooo that's wild. just the cherry on top of the slop he's been serving us in recent years.

is that why other jedi in his works are often trashed and his darling favorite oc ahsoka is so elevated in importance? is that why he doesn't know jack shit about attachments and constantly misrepresents it, because to him, jedi are the big meanies that tried preventing anakin from boning padme? someone please stop this man.

Ah, anon, did you sense a disturbance in the Force that brought you here? Instagram forced me to look at the new Ahsoka trailer about forty times today and I'm sure my saltiness is palpable. Every time I hear that orange fucktart say "Heir to the Empire" I could rip up his stupid notebook emblazoned with Ahsoka's symbol I saw in a behind the scenes post with my bare hands.

I think Filoni's Anakin (not canon Anakin, not the one in the prequel films, because TCW Anakin is NOT Anakin* and I will die on this hill) is a dear OC to Filoni, but of course not on the same level of Ahsoka. So of course he's speshul just the way Ahsoka is. The Jedi ~just don't understaaaaaaand them~ and they DESERVE special treatment and to break the rules like many an amateur writers' OCs.

*Apparently the TCW Anakin voice actor was told to "do a mix of Luke and Han" so clearly staying in-character for Anakin was never on the radar.

I did see a post I can't find now that was directed at Anakin stans, not Filoni, but it was interesting because it said basically Anakin is called the greatest Jedi of all time by his stans but they really mean "the most powerful Jedi of all time." Because he possibly/probably was, whether you go by midi-chlorians or just demonstrated power with the Force. But the post went on to say the Jedi don't value power like that, don't measure by it, so it's a fandom projection to say Anakin was the "greatest of the Jedi." Which makes sense to me, because the greatest of an organization wouldn't be the one who destroys them. And how are we measuring "greatness" anyway? Overall accomplishment? Skill with the Force? Number of people helped/saved (and do you get a penalty for people you hurt/kill)? Does Yoda win by default just because he's had longer than everyone else to rack up Jedi Greatness points and longer to practice his skills? Personally I would pick Revan, powerful in the Force, made a huge impact in her day, and her redemption (if you play Light Side like I did) was actively undoing the damage she did and defeating Malak for good, not just killing a Sith to save her own loved one and then dying. And of course I'll freely admit part of that is because she's one of my favorite characters. The point is, it's subjective. And Filoni has shown again and again he cannot be subjective about his faves. Just look at TCW Character Bo getting the Darksaber literally handed to her by the main character being shafted in his own show.

Oooo, since you're here, wanna hear an absolutely RANCID crack theory I had today? What if the whole Din Grogu thing is setting up some obscure Outer Rim tradition of taking on another's name with your own so that Filoni has an excuse to have Luke say "Oh Ahsoka, you are so wise and perfect and the Best Jedi Of All Time Who Truly Embodies What Filoni Thinks A Jedi Should Be, I would like to go by Ahsoka Luke now! Who's Padme anyway, no one important." While Filoni claps and honks like a seal as Ahsoka Luke Skywalker appears in the credits. Okay it's very silly but I put nothing past him.

#I cannot even pretend to be polite about this damn show anymore i hate it #i hate rebels characters AND the thrawn trilogy being sacrificed at the altar of ahsoka #anti ahsoka #anti ahsoka tano #anti ahsoka show #if you don't have anything nice to say about ahsoka come sit by me lmao

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dg-outlaw · 5 months

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Blue Beetle - Movie Review

Finally got to see this on HBO Max... yes, "MAX" we still think of you as HBO just as Grogu is still Baby Yoda. Deal with it.

So, back to 'Blue Beetle'.

Long review, short, I thoroughly enjoyed this movie and think it's one of DC's best in their quasi-DCEU/not DCEU or whatever is going on with WB and the DC movies these days. From what I understand, James Gunn/WB is not scrapping everything from the Snyder-verse/DCEU, but changes are coming and there's rumor that this iteration of Jaime Reyes/Blue Beetle will stick around and I really hope so. I also think it helps that there were no character cameos in the film, only mentions of heroes like Superman, Batman, etc. so this Blue Beetle could easily be folded into the upcoming Gunn-verse.

As a latino I'm both ashamed to say I don't know much about Jaime Reyes' Blue Beetle outside of his appearances on the 'Young Justice' animated series, but I was also excited to see him on the big screen (metaphorically) and plan to go back and check out his comics.

I won't do a random synopsis as you can easily hit up a Youtube trailer or read an IMDb blurb to get that info, but I will talk about some of things I really enjoyed about this film. Warning: Slight Spoiler's ahead.

First off, this was overall a well-polished, well-written, directed, acted, and enjoyable film. The CGI was CGI, but it never felt janky and I could see the attention to detail in a lot of the VFX work, even with Jaime's practical Blue Beetle suit. I also truly appreciated that this film took risks and didn't shy away from taking those risks, creating stakes and sometimes following through, and addressing certain cultural and socio-economic subject matter without being preachy. In some ways I compare it to the MCU's 'Black Panther' in tackling the cultural and socio-economic things that mainstream, especially Disney, often tries to shy away from.

While 'Blue Beetle' isn't as serious in tone as 'Black Panther' there were several moments in the film where you knew that the writer and director had some creative leeway as opposed to having lots of studio oversight, just as Ryan Coogler had in the first 'Black Panther' film. I'm not sure if this is because WB wasn't paying attention because the DCEU was dying off or if they were somehow convinced to let the creators do their thing.

There were also so many moments where my Hollywood Blockbuster/MCU-trained brain said, "now is where they pull away from the hard moment, make a joke to pull away from a real emotion, or water down the stakes", but that didn't happen in this film. Yes, it was funny throughout, and jokes were made to lighten the mood where appropriate, but it was never at a disservice to the story or the characters. There were no moments where I felt like some director/screenwriter/studio-exec was getting embarrassed because it's a superhero movie so [insert Whedon-esque quip here] to avoid showing feelings.

Plus, you had George Lopez bringing his well-known loud, wild humor as the conspiracy theory spouting, 1% hating, mad-scientist Uncle Rudy, but if anything I think he was needed to give light to a story that potential to be really dark and sad at times. This is not to say there weren't moments that tugged at your heartstrings and made you feel or think. This movie went there because yes, we can think it's cheesy because it's just a superhero movie, but in-universe these events are reality for the characters and I think other superhero movies need to remember that. This was really well done in the first transformation scene of Jaime into the Blue Beetle as it started with light humor and slowly morphed into an almost horror-film like scene. There was no gore, but you felt the terror that Jaime and his family were feeling by watching things unfold. We, as the audience know what's going on, but for him and the family, the shit was hitting the fan and they didn't know what was going on.

Honestly, I didn't know what to expect from this film. Having recently watched Shazam 2, which I thought was really funny and better than the first, but also forgettable and the Flash movie (which I also thought was fun but forgettable), I just expected more popcorn fun--the last sugary drops of the DCEU slushie before the Gunn-verse got underway. What I recalled about the trailers and vague reviews about this film was that it was a fun superhero movie that focused heavily on family.

But unlike the popcorn, turn your brain off and enjoy chaos of the Fast franchise, it didn't require Vin Diesel, 30 movies, and an endless string of memes to drill that concept into your head. Yes, Jaime Reyes is the hero in the film, but it's the collective efforts and support of his family that ends up helping him win in the end and it's what gave the movie heart.

This is also not meant to take away from Xolo Maridueña's performance as Jaime Reyes as the hero, an actor I've enjoyed since first seeing him on the Netflix series 'Cobra Kai'. Just like in 'Cobra Kai', I continue to enjoy his almost innocent boyish charm, shyness, and vulnerability he exudes on-screen. In some ways his character and performance remind me of Tom Holland's Spider-Man as just this kid trying to do the right thing, but is totally in over his head as a teen superhero (even though Jaime is a recent college grad from Gotham U). And just like Peter Park, Jaime didn't ask to be a hero and had no real aspirations for being a hero, other than to his family, but in the end he stepped up. This was not for cool points, though Jaime eventually learned to embrace the scarab's many cool powers, but because he knew it was the right thing to do. And yes, Mr. Vin Diesel, because of family.

I could go on and on about all the cultural moments and subject matter addressed in this film that I thought was really brave and refreshing in a superhero movie, but I won't as that's a giant article in it of itself. But I honestly think Disney/Marvel could take some pointers here as they often pull away just as they are about to get there. Also, no hate on MCU. There are many of the MCU films I enjoy, but the overall formula hasn't gotten tired and needs a revamp. Again, another post for another day, but just putting in a BIPOC, female, or LGBTQ character in a movie doesn't make it good and marketable. And no, we don't need PSA sob-story movies beaten into our heads, but what does it mean to be part of a marginalized community and be a hero? What does that look like? What different perspective does that character bring to the table?

In the end, yes, enjoy 'Blue Beetle' as a superhero movie, but also keep an eye out for the smaller messages and heart of this film as it was a delightful surprise for me. I hope we get to see more Blue Beetle in the future of DC films and I'd even be down for a live-action adaptation of 'Young Justice', with Jaime on the team.

#jaime reyes #blue beetle #blue beetle movie #blue beetle 2023 #movie review #DG-ramblings

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chiriwritesstuff · 6 months

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The Impossible Man ✨ 3. The Storybook Lady ✨

Modern-Day Detective! Din Djarin x Witchy! Reader (Soulmates! AU)

Previous Chapter │ Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Din (or is it Mando?), Grogu, and Starshine spend a day together.

Chapter Rating: M

Chapter Warnings: Magical Realism, Mentions of (Attempted) Suicide, Mention of (minor) character death, Jealousy between coworkers, not beta-ed

A/N: Hello, I am SO SORRY for the delay of this chapter! I really have no excuse except that I was burnt out, so I took a few weeks to catch up on several fics I've been writing and developing and decided to split the intended last chapter into two parts. I am not sure when the next chapter will be coming out, but it is in the works! Thank you for being patient with me!

Word Count: 3.7K

Dividers by @saradika

Ten years ago.

"So, anyone special in your life, Djarin?" Ben flips through paperwork, feet on the desk, files everywhere.

"No," Din replies calmly.

Ben scoffs, "Oh come on, there's gotta be someone," he pointedly looks at him above the files he's holding, his eyes full of doubt.

Din shrugs. "Not really."

His partner frowns. "Spill it. What's Detective Din Djarin's type?" He air-quotes "type" for emphasis, a teasing look on his partner's face.

"Not talking about it, Solo. It's none of your business."

"Thought we were bonding. You're too serious, Djarin. Wake up, Gym, Work, Eat, Jerk off, Sleep, Repeat. Where's the fun in that?"

"If I had time for someone," Din grumbles, "She wouldn't talk much. She would be someone patient, someone kind. I don't dwell on it much. Our line of work makes relationships tricky, you know that."

"I think that's the most generic answer you can ever give someone," Ben chides, rolling his eyes. "What a fucking cop-out, Djarin. I expected better from you since you got that whole..." he motions his hands in front of him frantically, "... dark and mysterious schtick going on."

Din snorts, shaking his head incredulously. "Please, Solo. Spare me. What do you want me to say? That I want someone who has the brightest eyes, a smile that can knock me off my ass, someone that can charm the living shit out of me with just one look? Someone who can take my breath away? Come on! How is that shit even real? How about this? Maybe I want someone who loves Cinnamon Chai, with a hint of nutmeg. Is that sufficient enough for you?"

Ben flips him off. "Now that's the fucking spirit, Djarin."

Desperate to change the topic, Din asks, "So when do I get to meet this lucky lady?"

"Who? Starshine?"

"Yes! Your wife, Starshine? The woman you can't stop talking about?! I swear you talk about her so much I know more about her than I do you, and that's fucking saying something, Solo."

"Not sure if I'm up for that," his partner says, pausing with a hint of uncertainty. Ben takes a moment as if thinking carefully. When he looks at Din, there's a quick intense gaze—a curious glare that catches Din's attention. Then, it turns into a friendly smile, as if Ben just noticed they're still facing each other. Din feels a change in the atmosphere, a mysterious vibe in their talk. Weird, Din thinks to himself.

"Why not? She's your wife. Nothing's going to happen. What are you so afraid of?!" He teases, a slight smirk on his face. "What? do you think Starshine would fall for my whole 'dark and mysterious schtick?"

After a moment of awkward silence, Ben snaps back to reality, shaking his head. "That woman you just described? She's my wife, Djarin. Exactly your type. That's what I'm afraid of." Ben frustratedly drops his files, surprising Din as he watches his partner quickly exits the bullpen. Din is left there, bewildered.

What just happened?!

Present Day.

A strange man is staring at you.

A devastatingly handsome man, but, still. Strange.

"Oh, Mando!" Vi hands you a cup of cinnamon chai as she greets this intriguing, yet mysterious... person. "...thought I heard Grogu come in! The usual today?"

He looks hesitant. "Uh, sure," he nods, the baritone of his voice sending shivers down your spine. Deep, like Ben, but also distinct. Ben's deep was soft and slow and a bit drawled out, whereas the stranger's voice was deep in a... smooth, bedroom voice kind of way. Did you just say he had a nice, bedroom voice? you think to yourself as you try to play it cool under the scrutiny of his gaze.

Because he's still looking at you, this strange, perplexing, devastatingly handsome man. Dark and mysterious, just how you like it.

His eyes are intense. Dark - deep brown eyes, pillowy-soft lips, tan skin. His hair is wavy and tousled perfectly, in an 'I woke up like this' kind of way. Tall - not tall in the way that Ben was tall - all 6'-3" of him - but tall in a sense of being just right - just right for me, your traitorous mind thinks. Broad - So very, very broad. Fuck. You bite your lip, not wanting to be too obvious in your sudden interest. You must look like some desperate, unhinged woman, you muse.

You glance at him again.

It's unnerving, the staring.

But why can't I look away?

"Here we go! A Starshine, just the way you like it," Vi says with a wink as she hands the peculiar stranger a cinnamon chai, the same one that you are drinking, smelling the subtle hint of nutmeg - the way you exactly take it - when the weight of your sister's words finally hit you. The stranger - Mando? - smiles wide, an amused quirk at the corner of his lips as you finally realize it.

You choke on your coffee. "What?!"

"Speaking of," Vi motions to you as if she were giving a sales pitch on QVC. "Mando, meet Starshine, only 10 years late."

You quirk your eyebrows at the stranger as you extend out your hand. "Ten years late? What does that even mean? Did we have an outstanding appointment that I managed to stand you up for ten years ago?" you chide as you observe him, a tell-tell hint of a blush slowly forming on his neck. You frown. "Honestly though - you seem familiar. Have we met before?" you quirk your head in question. "Did I really stand you up for something? Shit," you exclaim to yourself silently, looking up to him somewhat pleadingly - "I'm sorry if I did, just know, it wasn't you."

He looks at you nervously, his Adam's apple bobbing. "No, I don't think so," he replies, slightly shaking his head. "I came in 10 years ago on a friend's recommendation. It's truly a charming place. Vi has spoken a lot about you throughout the years," he glances at Vi, who nods in agreement.

"All good things, I hope?"

"Well, maybe I keep coming back every Saturday hoping that I'll finally make your acquaintance," he retorts smoothly, a smirk forming at the corner of his lips. "So, you've been in New York all this time? Vi mentioned it to me the first time I visited. You're a writer? I didn't realize it. I tried looking for your stuff, but Vi was sworn by secrecy to not tell anyone your pen name," he replies, an earnest look on his face. It's endearing, you think to yourself.

"... Something like that," you reply, a sad faraway look on your face. "My husband passed away, and I went to Montauk to settle his affairs. One thing led to another, and I ended up staying in the city to write. Only my family and maybe the CIA know my pen name. Are you the CIA?" you tease.

"No. I am... I'm sorry about that," He says, taking a sip of his chai. "I heard about your husband's passing through Vi. It must have been really hard for you, being all alone up there. Ten years is a long time, surely there isn't..."

"There isn't anyone in the picture," you quickly reply. "...not since Ben." You wave your hands in front of you as you try to explain yourself. "I didn't get out much, and didn't feel the need to... meet other people, you know?"

He nods, as if in agreement. "I know exactly what you mean. There's not much room for commitment in my line of work, you know?"

"Oh? What do you do for work? if you're not in the CIA, you must be in the... FBI? Bounty Hunter?"

"I'm a... consultant," he says carefully, "I work with the state," he follows up quickly, clearing his throat.

"So, Grogu..." you motion to his son, desperately wanting to change the subject, feeling uncomfortable. "It's just the two of you?" you ask nonchalantly, trying to hide the tiny bit of curiosity about whether or not this handsome stranger was single or not.

Mando smiles at that. "Grogu is my adopted son." he replies, "He was in a bad situation, and I decided to adopt him a few years ago. He would have been placed into the system if I hadn't intervened, and it's harder for someone on the spectrum," he gives Grogu a look, sighing, "... to get placed."

"That's pretty amazing, Mando," you say as you place your hand on his shoulder, grasping it slightly, his muscle tensing from your sudden touch. You give him a reassuring smile. "Seriously. Not just anyone would be that selfless."

Suddenly feeling a strong urge to keep his attention, at least for a little bit longer, an idea formulates in your mind. "Since Grogu is so fond of the storybook lady, would you like to help me out with the story today?"

"Help you out? how?" he asks, scratching the back of his neck. "I... don't know about that," he replies, obviously uncomfortable with the prospect of reading in front of a bunch of children. "I don't do well with kids, besides my own, that is."

"Oh come on, it'll be fun," you say. "I'll make it worth your while, I promise."

"How about a deal? I help out today, and in return, you spend the day with Grogu and me," he suggests, a hopeful glint in his eyes. "You can rediscover the city and share some quality time with your biggest little fan," he adds, nodding toward Grogu, who's eagerly waving amidst a group of kids waiting for the Storybook Lady.

"And, well, since you kept me waiting for a good ten years," he playfully admits, lowering his head toward yours. His warm breath grazes your neck as he takes a deliberate breath. "I think it's only fair you grant your most loyal supporter a day to feel appreciated," he whispers in your ear, a sweet mix of sincerity and charm.

You shoot him a satisfied grin and nod in agreement. His eyes casually trace the journey from your eyes to your lips, and you playfully bite your lower lip under the easy yet intense gaze he's giving you.

You slip your hand into his, fingers weaving together effortlessly. "Okay, Prince Charming, time for a grand adventure!" you tease, a playful grin lighting up your face in sync with his. Guiding him to the Storybook Lady's seat, Grogu catches on, his face lighting up with a mix of amusement and anticipation, realizing there's a cute plot twist in the works.

"Daddy's helping the Storybook lady today! That's my daddy!" Grogu excitedly motions towards him, and Mando, clearly embarrassed, grabs the first thing he can find to sit on, not realizing what it was until...

"Daddy's riding the horsey backward!" Grogu suddenly exclaims amid the sea of children. All eyes turn to his father, whose towering figure looms over the pint-sized toy pony. Vi, in the distance, gasps dramatically, shooting you a knowing look and winking, clearly amused by the comical sight. The vision of Mando perched on a toy pony in reverse tugs at your heartstrings a bit. In that moment, the memories of childhood dreams of an unattainable, deep love suddenly feel within reach, as if it has been right in front of you all along.

"So, what's the plan for this afternoon?" you ask Mando, watching as he eases into the driver's seat of his Ford Bronco, Grogu comfortably strapped in the back.

"I'm thinking we grab a bite and head down to Gasworks," he suggests. "It's a gorgeous day, right?" He shoots you a smile as he merges onto the street.

"I wanna see the troll, Daddy!" Grogu pipes up enthusiastically. "Troll first, then food!"

"Troll? Is he talking about the Fremont Troll?" you chuckle, glancing back to see Grogu nodding in agreement. "Troll! Troll first, Daddy!" he exclaims, his arms flailing with excitement.

Mando rolls his eyes. "That's the one. He loves the troll so much that we visit it at least once a month," he mentions, stealing a glance at you as he drives toward Fremont.

"Ad'ika," Mando addresses his son through the rear-view window. "How about this? We'll each pick out one place we want to go today. Sound fun?"

"Yes! Fun! But can we go see the Troll first? Please?"

"... What does ad'ika mean?" you ask.

Mando smiles broadly as if you've uncovered a secret. "Have you ever watched 'Star Wars'?" He nods approvingly when you confirm that you have. "Remember Boba Fett and the Mandalorians? It's kind of nerdy, but it's Mandalorian for 'little one.' I wanted to call him something unique."

"That's... incredibly niche," you laugh. "You might be the least predictable person I've ever met."

"... thank you?"

He finds a good parking spot a few blocks away from the Fremont Troll, Grogu bouncing with excitement as his father unbuckles his car seat. "Starshine," Grogu asks, clinging to his father like a baby koala, "Do you like the troll? I used to think it was scary, but Daddy told me that I'm a big boy now and that nothing should scare me. The troll is my friend now. He can be your friend too!"

"Well, my mommy and daddy used to take Aunt Vi and me to the troll all the time when we were little! We had scavenger hunts and pretended we were princesses running away from the dragon," you share, smiling earnestly. "It was one of my favorite memories growing up."

"Really? If I play the dragon, and you play princess, can Daddy be the prince who saves you?" Grogu asks as you look at Mando from behind, trying to hide a blush. "Grogu..." he stutters, clearly embarrassed.

"Only if the Prince kisses the Princess once he saves her," you reply boldly, winking at him. Mando beams at that, shakily running a hand through his hair. He clears his throat. "I think that can be arranged," winking at you as he suddenly charges towards the both of you, Grogu shrieks in excitement as Mando grabs him from behind, perching his tiny form on his shoulders. "Are you ready, Dragon?" he asks his son, grinning brightly at you, "let's go save us a princess!"

After an hour of playing Princess and the Dragon with the Djarin boys, you spend another 30 minutes trying to convince Grogu to move on to the next item on your agenda for the day.

"Wait, Daddy!" He whines as his father slings him over his shoulder. "You forgot to kiss the princess after you saved her!"

Mando turns towards you, his eyes darkening as his son wiggles in his grasp. He slowly approaches you, a smirk forming on the corner of his lips. He licks them, causing you to clench your thighs, gasping in surprise at his sudden boldness. His lips hover over yours. "Silly me," he whispers, smiling as he notices your mouth opening slightly in anticipation. "Shame on Daddy, right?" he smiles, his eyes locking you in place.

"Right," you murmur, trembling.

"Is this okay?" he asks, suddenly shy.

"More than okay," you beam.

Without hesitation, his lips gently meet yours. His touch is tender, and you feel yourself becoming enveloped in the warmth of the moment – the softness of his lips, the sincerity of his kiss. In that instance, it's as if the stars themselves have aligned, and the entire universe conspired to bring you both together. If fate or destiny were ever tangible, it would be in this shared space, affirming that you were destined to be right here, in this perfect moment.

"Hey, can you put me down, Daddy? my head's getting all tingly!"

"I don't want this day to end," you say with a hint of sadness, "I haven't felt this alive in the last ten years," grabbing ahold of Mando's hands. He smiles, gently pushing a stray hair behind your ear. "Thank you for this, Mando. I've never felt this happy in such a long time; I didn't think it would ever be possible for me to feel like this again."

"Then let's not end it. Come home with us," he replies. "Let Grogu and me cook you dinner, and we can watch a movie. 'Netflix and Chill'? Is that what they're saying nowadays?"

"I'm pretty sure that's a euphemism for sex?"

A smirk forms on his face. "Is it now?" he replies. "Maybe that's what I meant," he winks, pressing a kiss on your temple.

"Hey Grogu, want to see a magic trick?" you ask him as he helps you set the dining table.

"A magic trick? Yes!" he nods eagerly, handing you a plate. Mando turns his head towards both of you as he continues cooking dinner. He had gently pushed you out of the kitchen earlier after you offered to help him, asking you to keep an eye on Grogu, reminding you that you're his guest and that he will be cooking for you, Mesh'la - Beautiful, you've come to realize - in Mando'a.

You lean towards the candle set in the middle of the table, gently blowing on it, the flame igniting on the wick. You wink at him as he gasps and claps in excitement. "Wow!" he exclaims. "How did you learn how to do that?"

"My mommy taught me when I was about your age," you reply sweetly, ruffling his wavy hair.

"Can you teach me?" he asks you with a shy smile. "I love magic tricks."

"It's been a long time for me," you whisper, sitting on the sofa, 'Practical Magic' playing on the TV in the background as Mando hands you a glass of wine, Grogu already fast asleep in his room. "I haven't... entertained the possibility of being with someone after Ben died."

"You must have loved him very much."

You nod. "Honestly, I never meant to get married, let alone fall in love," you sigh as you sip on your wine, smiling to yourself. "My mother... she died because of a broken heart when Vi and I were kids, she couldn't... imagine a life without my father, the loss changed something in her. It broke her. I made a promise to myself all those years ago to not go down that road and..." you gasp, stifling a sob. Mando grabs your hand, his thumb drawing circles on your skin, soothing you. "The night I found out, I ran to the edge of the aunt's property, along Puget Sound. I screamed for the waves to swallow me whole. I was ready, I couldn't... imagine my life without Ben."

"What made you stop yourself from doing... that?" he wipes your tears, grabbing your glass and setting it on the coffee table, grabbing ahold of both of your hands, giving you his undivided attention.

"I heard his voice in my head."

"His voice?"

"I know how crazy this might sound," you chuckle, shaking your head. "I've just met you, and here I am, pouring my heart out to the first person I've allowed myself to open up to in the last ten years."

"Don't worry, I feel it too," he says, looking at you earnestly. "It's like... I've always put up a wall between my desires and what I thought was the right thing to do, you know? I lost my parents at a young age, too. They were... killed," he confesses, a lone tear running down his face. "... and I became so consumed with seeking justice, you know? I worked my ass off to put their killer behind bars. I denied myself the chance to be loved because I didn't want to be the cause of someone else's pain, no matter how damn lonely it got. I get it, you know? I understand where you're coming from." Now, he's crying, the tears he tried so hard to hold back now flowing like rivers down his face. "I used to let myself believe, there is someone out there who knows, who understands the kind of pain that I've been through. I would wish..."

"What did you wish for?"

"I wished for someone like you," he softly confesses, his hand tenderly caressing your cheek. "I wished for you; I swear I dreamed you up. No one has ever made me feel the way I do when I'm with you. I know this sounds crazy, and it doesn't make any sense, but from the moment I laid eyes on you, Starshine, it was like everything aligned for me. Grogu, who also lost his family, and you—after everything, I told myself that if fate ever threw me a bone, I would take it. I have with my son, who adores you, but with you, it feels like you were meant for me and me alone. Everything that has happened, it all leads me to you."

"Mando, you don't mean that. You barely even know me."

"But it feels like I do know you, baby. I know... I know that you feel this, too."

It's as if a bucket of cold water has been poured over you, the enchantment of the day shattering with the sudden weight of reality. It all feels overwhelming, you realize in an instant. Your thoughts rush to Ben, the curse, and the consequences of letting go, which resulted in losing your husband and suddenly becoming a widow. For the past decade, you've carried the weight of guilt, hesitant to let someone else bear the burden of your twisted destiny. I can't let history repeat itself, not with Mando, no matter how much my heart longs for him.

"I... I feel it too," you admit quietly, "but I can't, not again."

"Why, why can't you see what's in front of you? Wouldn't you think that Ben would want you to be happy? To find love again? What's stopping you?" he pleads, taking you into his arms, resting his head on your shoulder as he holds you tight, as if he thinks you're ready to run away.

"Mando..." you quietly sob, "It's me, I'm the reason why Ben is dead."

Series Taglist: @strawberri-blonde @survivingandenduring

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