Hello, may I request a one-shot of the Mandalorian x Reader who somehow gets frozen in Carbonite during a fight, then wakes up blind with the Carbonite sickness? I'm a sucker for that kind of hurt/comfort stuff :)
Listen, I lost my creative juices halfway through this, and didn’t get them back for quite a while… 😬 So I’m sorry that this has taken so long, or if it’s not really all that good, but I’m kind of happy to just throw it into the abyss and let you guys have it 😂😂
Thanks @deceiverofgodss for suffering through this with me, ily 💛
Pairing: Din Djarin x female reader
Word Count: 3.0k
Warnings: hurt/comfort 💛, carbonite sickness, temporary blindness, brief mention of canon-level violence, sweet loving soft amazing Din, the helmet comes off 👀, Grogu is heartbreakingly adorable, I think that’s it?
At first, all you could feel was cold. Biting and endless, you couldn’t decipher any other feeling than the all-consuming cold seeping from your bones.
Then there was a warmth… was it warm? It was certainly warmer than the hell you’d been in, that had to count for something. A firm grip held you close, cradling you into their chest as you laid sprawled against their lap on the ground. As the feeling in your body gradually came back – or maybe your brain was just starting to thaw out – you recognized the warmer surface that was pressed against you in so many places.
Beskar.
The next thing to hit you was the smell of leather and fire, a smell you were no stranger to. The smoke that rose off of weapons you handled in your day-to-day life, and the buttery smoothness of well-worn leather gloves that were smoothing over your cheeks, filling your nostrils with the familiar scent. Gloves you’d felt caress your skin countless times before.
It started quiet, the muffled sounds of the world around you. A deep voice was speaking, accompanied by soft footsteps making quiet clangs against the metal flooring beneath you. How many people were here? Where were you?
You felt your brows furrowing as you tried to focus on the sounds filtering through your ears, and you gave an experimental tilt of your head to see what kind of motion you could pull off. It was very slight, but it was movement. It was probably only noticeable to whoever was holding you if they were paying very close attention.
“Mesh’la? Can you hear me?” You made out, the voice above you laced with concern and panic.
Din.
You opened your eyes slowly to let whatever light beyond your eyelids filter in slowly, allowing your body to take the recovery process one step at a time.
But the light never came.
Maybe your eyes weren’t open?
“I told you she’d be alright, Djarin,” you heard in a thick accent from a few steps away. “She’s a fighter.” That gruff voice was Boba’s for sure, but you still had no way of confirming what you were hearing. Were your eyes just… adjusting?
“Make yourself useful and figure out how to get more light in here, she can’t see anything,” Fennec’s unmistakeable lilt snarked, and with an amused grunt fading away with matching footsteps, you knew she’d thrown her jab at Boba. Yes, more light. That’s all you needed, everything was going to be alright.
“Talk to me, how do you feel?” Din said above you, and you realized you hadn’t acknowledged him in your confusion. You made an effort to use your vocal cords, a few experimental groans coming out before you could manage any words.
“I feel… tired.” You heard a quiet, shaky laugh come out from under Din’s helmet, and it didn’t take much longer before you felt the familiar Beskar of his helmet on your forehead. You steadily lifted one of your arms to reach for him, your body still coming back to temperature, and he met you halfway. If your eyes weren’t already closed, they were now as you savored the feeling of his hand in yours, how irrationally warm it made you feel to have Din wrapped so tightly around you.
You heard Fett’s distant sound of triumph and a sputtering of electrical devices in the room around you. When Din slowly lifted his helmet, you attempted to open your eyes one more time.
“There she is,” Fennec sighed, and your stomach flipped. “How’s the light, is that a little bit better?” She asked gently.
You still couldn’t see anything.
“Mesh’la… what’s wrong?” Din’s voice was quiet, smooth. Like he was trying to keep himself calm in order to comfort you. “Hey, look at me, I’m right here.” Your heart jumped to your throat, your head beginning to spin when you thought about how impossible such a simple task sounded when all you could see was black.
“I… I can’t,” you whispered, unable to stop the quiver as you finished speaking, the panic starting to set in. You didn’t know where you were trying to go but your body went into overdrive, legs scrambling for some kind of leverage to sit yourself up. Before you could go far, Din’s hand squeezed yours a little tighter, the arm wrapped around you firm as he pulled you into a sitting position while keeping you curled up against his chest.
“You can’t what?” Din’s voice was too calm, it was unsettling. Usually knowing that he was able to keep his calm in a less-than-ideal situation would be comforting to you, encouraging you to do so yourself and realize that you were okay. But it had never been this bad before. He wasn’t going through what you were. It was easy for him to find his calm, he could still see.
“The bounty… what happened? What did he do to me?” You settled for, working yourself up as your brain reeled for an answer, an explanation, any morsel of a solution.
“Easy princess,” Boba said from across the room. “Take it one step at a time, comin’ outta Carbonite isn’t as easy as taking a clam from a Gungan.”
Carbonite… you could vaguely piece together a memory of fighting. Some slimy bounty you and Din had picked up as a side job on your way to Tatooine to visit with your friends in Mos Espa. What was supposed to be a standard grab-and-go mission had turned complicated fast.
“You held your own,” Din’s voice said above you, no doubt watching you try to remember. “He caught us by surprise and managed to kick you back into a carbonite freezer. There was no way you could’ve seen him coming.”
As he said it, the memories came back to you. Stalking around a dark warehouse beside your Mandalorian, lights scanning for any sign of movement. You’d heard a clang come from beside you, and before you could alert your partner that you were going to check it out, you’d been knocked against a metal container. You were able to process hissing sounds as your head stopped spinning, and as you shouted back out to Din, you watched him tearing to get to you before everything went cold.
“How… how long was I in there?” you tried quietly.
“A few hours at the most,” Fennec answered. “Mando reached out to us pretty quickly, and as Daimyo of Mos Espa, getting clearance wasn’t an issue. When we got there, Djarin was rooted to the spot next to you with a dead Trandoshan not too far off.”
“We thought it’d be best if we defrosted you here at the palace,” Boba chimed in. “Give you time to acclimate without rushing you outta there.” Then there was a familiar gurgle, small noises that went directly to your heart. “And give the little one a chance to run around.”
“But he’s been too worried about you to go anywhere,” Din reasoned softly. It was hard to tell if your eyes were still open, but you could feel the tears coming nonetheless at the thought of Grogu waiting patiently beside you.
“Can I..” You wanted to ask if you could see him, but that seemed like a redundant question. “Where is he?” You heard the hesitant thump of Boba’s boots against the metal floor as he approached you.
“Hold out your hands, mesh’la,” Din urged, releasing your hand while keeping you close. You did as he said, and before you could ask why, you felt a familiar weight being set in your arms.
There were little hands on your cheeks and Grogu’s familiar gurgle of attempted words that were usually matched with his little toothy grin… What little restraint you had was shattered, and you felt the tears welling up in your eyes, and start to roll down your cheeks where they collided with your foundling’s fingers. Din pulled you closer as you cried, and you curled into him with Grogu in tow.
“Why can’t I see, Din?” you whispered, and you heard how broken your voice sounded. It at least matched the way you felt; broken.
“Carbonite takes its toll,” Boba started, and you felt Din’s body make a small, quick movement. You could only guess that he’d snapped his head up at the daimyo’s dramatic choice of words. “I just mean that there are usually side effects… but I’ve seen people come outta carbonite after weeks and turn out just fine.”
“So… how long will it take me to get my vision back?” you choked, trying to put a stop to the stream of emotions that continued falling as you listened around you. Din’s leather-clad hands rubbing soothing patterns into your back was definitely helping on that front. “If I get it back.”
“Don’t say that,” your Mandalorian’s firm voice countered. “You weren’t in there long. Your body will recover.”
“He’s right,” Fennec piped up. Not being able to see where your party stood in the room was proving to be a strange sensation, figuring out where the speaker was in the room proving to be its own mental sport. “Unfortunately, there’s no way to tell when it will wear off. Carbonite affects everyone differently, so we could be waiting a few hours, a few days, a few weeks... It depends on how your body reacts.”
There was a heavy silence in the room as Fennec’s words settled, forcing you to come to terms with the reality of the situation, and how little you could plan around it.
Din, surprisingly, was the first to break the silence.
“I’ll be here by your side each step of the way,” he started, his serious tone reassuring, backing up the weight of his promise.
Unsurprisingly, Din kept his word.
In the days that followed, Din was with you every moment possible. He was there to help you up in the mornings, tender touches and slow movements in the private quarters your clan of three took up in the palace. His hands rarely left you as he helped you maneuver around the space, and had endless amounts of patience as you worked together to get through the day.
Grogu definitely took a little bit to adjust. He was used to you picking him up and smothering him in affection too many times throughout the day to count. Now you often felt him at your feet, making soft sounds as he asked for you to lift him up. But when he started to understand that you couldn’t see him, his response broke your heart.
Each morning Din would put Grogu in your arms, and without fail, those little hands would find your cheeks right before you would feel a strange sensation course through your body… He was trying to use his powers to heal you, much like you had seen him do with Din in the past. You wouldn’t let him do it for so long that he would tire himself out, but the two of you entertained his efforts – at the very least to make him feel better, but also to see if it would even work.
In staying by your side, Din took to showering with you, too. Trying to convince him you could handle it was followed immediately by fumbling with the soaps until they clattered to the floor, and Din was knocking on the fresher door in moments. It was kind of amusing, at first, when he would step in behind you and you could hear the clang of the water against his helmet.
Amidst the confusion and the disorientation of your lack of sight, the silver lining had been the day Din fully realized how much he could get away with when you couldn’t see him. Your entire relationship you kept your eyes shut tight – or left the room altogether – when Din removed his helmet, honoring his creed. But now he could go without it whenever he so chose… as long as it was in the confines of your room.
Waking up to his soft kisses had been a warm welcome, one that was met with his enthusiastic affection scattered across your face. “We should do this more often,” he sighed, making you laugh against him as he kissed your cheek, the scratch of his facial fair tickling your skin.
You grew accustomed to roaming your hands around his body so you could navigate to his soft curls, combing through his hair and massaging his scalp with your nails. You mapped the planes of his face with your lips, traced his pouted ones with your fingertips… and by the Maker, you were basking in the sound of his voice without the vocoder filtering it through his helmet. You could hear his smile when he spoke, could hear even the smallest huff of amusement his helmet usually kept from being audible, and his comforting tone wrapped you in a warmth you wanted to stay in forever.
…
“Mesh’la,” you heard as you slowly came into consciousness. You gave Din a sleepy smile as he peppered kisses over your cheeks, the scratch of his mustache tickling your skin. “Someone’s here to see you early this morning,” he whispered, and you felt his side of the bed shift as he sat up. You kept your eyes closed through the whole process, like you did every morning, wanting to soak up the softness of your little family for just a little bit longer before facing the disappointment of not being able to see anything.
In the last week, there was… some improvement. You knew you should be grateful for any steps forward your condition was taking, even if they were slim, but after the first few days, it just became exhausting. You could make out the vague shapes of the figures around you, and you could tell the difference between light and dark, but that was about it. Din had been ecstatic when you reached out for him that first morning, his excitement growing each time you turned towards him as he leaned in to give you a kiss.
You just wanted to see again.
When Din’s weight returned to the bed – your eyes still closed – he brought with him a familiar bundle that was set directly on your stomach. Grogu didn’t wait for your hands to find him before he was crawling clumsily up your body, and you shared in Din's laughter as you each gave him a hand to help him to his destination.
“Well good morning to you too, little one,” you smiled, pleasantly surprised by your foundling’s newfound eagerness to get started with the day. “You must be hungry if you’re wanting to get this over with so quickly.” There was only a babble in response as he situated himself on your chest, and you could just imagine him reaching his little hands out to make it to your cheeks without losing his balance.
Din grunted as he shifted, this time getting up off of the bed, no doubt to go tend to make Grogu something to eat before it got past the point of no return. And yet, when his little hands finally reached you, there was no urgency. With your eyes still closed, you focused closely on the feeling that began spreading through your body, breathing deeply when the familiar feeling of weightlessness his powers brought you relaxed your muscles.
The soft clanking of dishes from the living area of your room in the palace brought you back to the present, which meant that it was time to start moving through your day, and giving Grogu a chance to rest after using his powers once again. You opened your eyes as you sat up, hoisting Grogu up with you and returning the little smile that spread across his cheeks…
His smile. You could see it.
You could see.
“Hi baby,” you whispered, your throat suddenly feeling very constricted as you took in the sight of your foundling. His big, dark eyes bore into you as his ears perked up at the attention he hadn’t seen from you in so long. He gurgled happily as he used his grip on your cheeks to encourage you to lean forward, pressing his little forehead against yours.
You heard Din’s broken voice say your name, speaking softly as if he was scared to break whatever trance he was in. Without thinking, you lifted your head from Grogu’s and turned to look in his direction, and for a moment you couldn’t believe what you were seeing.
Din stood frozen in place when he met your gaze, his warm brown eyes speaking a thousand words that would never pass his lips. His dark curls that you had felt so many times sat in a mess atop his head, matching the scruff and facial hair that decorated his golden skin. The prominent nose you had felt was more handsome than you could have ever imagined, the pouty pink lips you had traced time and time again as inviting as ever.
You had imagined this moment a thousand times, thought of every possible situation or turn of events that might ever lead to seeing your Mandalorian without his helmet. Your worst fear was that it would be an accident – like it was now – and that his expression turning into disappointment, anger, or something worse that would mean he wanted nothing more to do with you.
But the face looking back at you had nothing but anticipation and adoration written across his striking features.
“Mesh’la…” you whispered, trying the Mando’a endearment on your tongue. The corners of his lips began to turn up in a tentative smile, and the sight you had just gotten back started to blur with the water flooding your eyes. “Beautiful… Din, you’re beautiful,” you sobbed. The last thing you saw was Din rushing to your side, quick to wrap his arms around you and kiss the top of your head as you closed your eyes once more, letting the happy tears flow freely across your cheeks.
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summary: after helping the mandalorian with a favor, he brings you a gift as a thank you. little do both of you know that this gift sparks a connection that neither of you can deny, and thoughts that din never considered before you.
tags/warnings: dual pov, no use of y/n cuz ew, alcohol consumption, mentions of medicine/contraceptives, a very tiny mention of being chased/hunted down, hella chemistry, fluff, language, jealousy, sexual tension, yearning, dirty talk, heavy makeout, biting, fingering, clit play, cunnilingus, breast play, slight choking kink, piv unprotected sex, praise kink, breeding kink, cream pie, helmet off, dark room sensory focused.
author’s note: listen listen LISTEN... I know, it's been a hot minute 🥲 Life happened and all that jazz. Tbh this has been in my drafts for a while but I decided to finish it now that the movie is out so this is probably canon divergent at this point lol. But when I tell you I ran away writing this, bitch I raaaan. To everyone who wondered what happened to that bottle of liquor in s3, this is for you pookies🫵🏻🙂↕️
When you decided to make Nevarro your home, you expected it to be a rough place. A far off den of thieves, bounty hunters, and a sleazy connection to the old empire. Nonetheless, it was cheap so you convinced yourself you could put up with it. It wasn’t anything new to you. Plus, at the time, you really didn’t have anywhere else to go.
Thankfully, the reputation has drastically improved over the past few years. It’s not Naboo, but there’s a sort of gritty charm to it. Rebels became marshals. Bars became schools. Thieves became honest vendors. Hell, there’s even kaf shops here now.
You’re no stranger to drastic changes in this galaxy. You’ve beared witness to the rise and fall of an empire after all.
But receiving a bottle of wine at night from a notorious ex-bounty hunter is definitely a first for you.
“You’re… giving this to me,” you ask, dragging the question out.
The Mandalorian stands at your doorstep. Unreadable beneath hard shiny metal and illuminated only by the entry light of your home above your door. The chilly night air bites your cheeks but he stands unfazed.
“As a thank you,” he explains. “You were a big help to my kid and this was the only thing I had that seemed like something you’d enjoy.”
All you did was give his little green kid some medicine. It’s not like it was even your first interaction with the infamous hunter. He’s stopped by your apothecary a couple times. Passing by so swiftly you hardly even knew he was there if it wasn’t for the lingering stares from other customers. If you recall correctly, he only ever picks up supplies to replenish a med pack or bacta spray for wounds.
Until you suddenly found him at your doorstep the other night with his adorable little green baby in his arms. The poor little guy was running a fever, coughing up a storm, and had even refused food for over a day. Any parent would be frantic. And so you didn’t even think twice to let them inside.
Luckily your small shop is attached below your home, so you were quick to find the right tinctures for his illness. The Mandalorian paced circles in your kitchen as you administered the medicine and blotted his kid’s little forehead with a cool damp cloth. It took some time and a lot of reassurance to a very nervous father, but after a few hours the fever broke.
You sent them home with some herbal tinctures and even some homemade hard medicinal candies for stubborn coughs and that was it. Hardly any words were exchanged between you that night that didn’t pertain to the child. Only a heartfelt thank you, goodnight, and a promise to pay you back somehow. You assured him that it really wasn’t necessary, that you were glad to help.
You’ve admittedly always been curious about the man. With his stoic demeanor and a reputation that preceded him like lightening preceded thunder. He’s somewhat of a local legend, menace, and hero all wrapped up in one. And now he’s at your door. With booze. Definitely a man of his word, this guy.
“You’re giving this,” you repeat with astonishment. “This whole bottle, to me?”
“Yes,” he answers again. “Is it a special one or something?”
“This is Andoan wine,” you emphasize, holding out the clear glass bottle. “You can only find these on Coruscant now. Very delicious, very rare, very expensive.”
“Is it,” he asks nonchalantly. “I’ve never tried it before. But I hope you enjoy it.”
“You really don’t have to,” you tell him.
“I insist. I didn’t know the first thing to do so I appreciate your help.”
You chuckle. With your limited interactions, you’re starting to see that he’s short and to the point with his words. Almost like he’s not entirely used to speaking with people.
“I…” You nearly argue it again but decide against it. He really didn’t have to give you such a lavish gift for something any good person would do in a situation like that. It was only natural. But at this point, refusing him might come off as rude so…
“Thank you very much.”
The Mandalorian acknowledges your gratitude with a tilt of his helmet, then turns on his heels to leave without another word. And for some reason, you linger at the door. You watch him go down one step, then another, then-
“H-hey, Mando?”
Your sudden call stops him in his tracks on the stair case and he turns to look back over his shoulder. The dim light gleaming over his steel.
“Yes?”
“I…. w-well…”
You’re stammering. Just come out and say it.
“If you’ve never tried it… would you like to share it with me?”
He stands there silently looking at you and the awkwardness crawls your skin.
“I’m not busy at the moment and it’s not really in my culture to drink alone.”
Culture your ass. You just want to drink with him. It’s unclear why in particular but… you’re curious about him. Other than the company of his kid, he seems alone. You wonder if he prefers it that way or if it’s for another reason entirely. Either way, the offer was worth a shot.
There’s more silence and the only noise in the air comes from the gentle chirp of some lava crickets and the breeze brushing the trees in the street. And it’s in that moment that regret starts to burn in your stomach
He’s gonna say no. A pause like that doesn’t necessarily mean yes. But it would be rude not to offer, right? A bottle this nice doesn’t come by these parts and it’d be a shame to drink it alone. It’s reasonable to offer the gesture. After all, he went out of his way to come here from across town. It’s the least you can do to show your appreciation in return.
“Alright.”
The word that falls out of him so effortlessly hits you like a punch to the chest. Are you nervous? Absolutely. But how many people can say they shared a drink with the Mandalorian?
A few minutes later, you find yourself standing on your tip toes, grabbing a couple earthenware ceramic cups in your kitchenette cabinet while Mando stands in your living room. His helmet follows the various potted plants, momentos and knick knacks from your travels littered around your home. Even tracing his gloved fingers over some of them.
“You have a nice home,” he says. “I didn’t notice before. Very lived in.”
“Lots of junk,” you joke. “You can say it Mando, I won’t mind.”
“My place is still new. Doesn’t feel like a home just yet.”
“That’ll change over time,” you assure him. “After a while, your home becomes a collection of memories.”
His attention gets drawn to a particular item on your wall. It’s an old worn down canvas satchel bag that hangs on the wall. At one point it was a life line. Now it serves as a reminder that no matter how hard life gets, showing a little kindness can go a long way for someone.
“What’s this memory?”
“That? That memory is what got me here.” You smile to yourself as you wipe down the cups with a clean kitchen rag.
“A few years ago, I was on Pantora with just some spare change and the clothes on my back. I was desperate to leave so I ended up hitching a ride on a freight ship. I worked on the ship in exchange for a ride to Corellia. Their language was difficult to learn and I had a rough time getting things done because for some reason everything was written in the native language and not aurebesh. On a stop to Tattooine, I accidentally labeled a pallet of coaxium as a pallet of scrap metal. That “scrap” was sold to some Jawas and by the time everyone realized my mistake we were already halfway to the next planet.”
“Was that before you came the Nevarro?”
“That was the reason I came to Nevarro,” you clarify. “It was their next stop so they dropped me here.”
“Ouch.”
“Yeah, ouch,” you laugh. “Anyway, I guess one of the workers felt sorry for me and left me that satchel with a couple credits and some ration bars inside. Buuut my mistake turned out to be a blessing in disguise. Nevarro turned itself around. I have my own little business. I’m even able to save a little bit of money now. For the time being, things are comfortable. I’ve hopped around the system a lot as you can see. But… this is a place I can always come back to.”
“Something reliable,” he adds.
“Exactly,” you say softly, smiling at the sentiment.
You look up at him. And you didn’t notice as you were cleaning those cups that he’s now completely facing towards you. His visor is trained on you. And it’s then that you realize how small your home really is. Because Mando is broad.
His crossed arms accentuate his wide shoulders. His chest plate follows the lines of his trim torso. Even those plates of beskar armor can barely hide the bulk of his biceps. Your eyes briefly, briefly take a tour at his waist line before you realize how incredibly rude you’re being.
He’s a guest. And a customer. Don’t. Check. Him. Out.
Heat starts to rise in your cheeks. Focusing back on the cups, you round the kitchen counter and walk over to him.
“I’m sorry. All this talking suddenly got deeper and I feel like I haven’t really introduced myself. We’ve only ever passed by each other before,” you chuckle, shaking away the nerves.
In hindsight you should’ve just introduced yourself the other night, but truthfully you were in care-taker-mode and it didn’t occur to you at the time. Plus you didn’t think you’d have an encounter with the man again other than seeing him briefly in your shop every so often. But he seems like a nice enough person with the limited knowledge you do have with him. And after tonight you’re bound to cross paths again. So you happily extend your hand out and give him his cup along with your full name.
There’s a couple beats of silence and you’re starting to see that’s his default. But it doesn’t stop you from second guessing your words as if you’re crossing an unknown boundary. There’s a slight tilt downward with his helmet and he responds with a regretful “I’m sorry, but-“
“You don’t have to tell me your name,” you immediately add. “I know there’s… principles you must have. I just wanted you to know me. That’s all.”
Another beat passes before he finally reaches out to take the cup in his hand. He repeats your name and the way it comes out of his voice holds a whole new flavor. Soft and curious even through the warble of his vocoder. It’s almost like he’s seeing how it tastes.
You like it. You like it a lot.
“It’s nice to meet you.” The voice wears the vocoder like a veil but you still catch a hint of a smile by his relaxed tone. No real logical way to know for certain, just a gut feeling.
“Likewise,” you smile back.
“So,” he exhales. “You want to know how two Mandalorians drink?”
“Sure. Sounds educational,” you joke.
With a tilt of his helmet, Mando steps further into the living room area and you follow behind, cup and bottle in hand. Walking over to the couch, his gloved hand reaches for the small round pillow resting there. His smokey grey cape flows over his shoulder and for a moment you’re mesmerized by the movement. As he turns on his heel, his fingers release the pillow. Letting it fall to the thin rug with a muted poof.
“Right here.” Mando gestures to the floor and you waltz over to take a seat on the cushion, crossing your legs. It doesn’t escape your notice how he doesn’t grab the only pillow for himself. Opting for your comfort over his own.
He takes a minute to look around the room. Probably checking for anything reflective. Then with a swish of his cape to the side, Mando settles in the floor behind you. When his back presses against yours, you expect a wall of cold hard metal beneath the cape. But instead there’s warmth. Strong and firm, but still warm and giving.
“It’s customary to sit on the floor when drinking with a war band. Usually outside around a fire. When it’s just two, it’s back to back.”
“Aaah,” you drawl. “Very practical. I like it.”
The top of the bottle comes off with a pop and the rich scent caresses your nose like a hug. After pouring about two fingers worth into Mando’s cup you pour one for yourself and settle in.
“Are we drinking to anything tonight ,” you ask him.
“Not sure. How about…,” he pauses for a moment before deciding. “To that Pantoran who gave you the satchel.”
That makes you laugh out loud. But you can’t help but feel a little pleased at that. If it wasn’t for him, you wouldn’t be on Nevarro, wouldn’t have a home. And you definitely wouldn’t be drinking with Mando tonight. For that you’re especially grateful.
“You know what, yeah,” you chuckle. “To the Pantoran.”
Mando extends his arm back to reach your cups and you meet him halfway. Letting them touch with a soft clack.
“Cheers.”
“Cheers.”
There’s an unclicking sound and you sense that he’s probably tilting his helmet back to drink. You ignore the small tinge of disappointment that he didn’t take it completely off. But it’s understandable. He doesn’t know you well. Even drinking like this with an outsider is probably a big deal for people of his creed. His back presses a little further against yours as he takes his first sip and you take yours.
The wine is rich and dry, and a bit smokey. But the underlying taste of tangy fruit blends well with the flavor. Going by the color, it has to have been bottled for a decades. The alcohol runs warmly down your throat and settles like smoldering ember in your stomach. It’s like no other alcohol you’ve ever tried before. Not even close.
“Hoooh,” he hisses after that sharp bite of alcohol.
“Yeah,” you agree knowingly. Already sensing that this bottle is getting finished tonight.
The conversations flow pretty easily after the first drink. He tells you about how his boy came into his life and how he suddenly found himself being his father. You tell him that you can only dream of having a parent like him because you never got to know yours. You half expected he would cut the interaction short and only accept one drink. But when you offer a refill, he gladly accepted which warmed you from the inside.
Admittedly you ask a few curious questions about his creed and he indulges you a bit. And he asks about how you got into medicine making. But for the most part you both stick to easier topics like current events on Nevarro, work, and food. Eventually two drinks turn into three and somehow you’ve both dipped into topics like past relationships. Which is dangerous territory after drink number three.
“It was baaad, Mando. I’m telling you. I mean, really! Who gives two shits who makes more money than who? Or am I in the wrong here?”
“Nah, definitely not,” he replies. His speech now more relaxed but a little raspy from the alcohol. “Honestly, he sounds like a little bitch if that was his main concern.”
“Yeah! Like, what is it with these men and needing to feel superior in such bullshit, inconsequential ways?”
“You seem strong willed. Weak men are intimidated by that.”
“Yeah well, then every man I’ve met in this galaxy was weak,” you groan. “I mean, c’mon. Am I that intimidating? Is it the yapping? It’s probably the yapping.”
“I think someone who’d be deterred by something that trivial doesn’t sound worth a damn anyway.”
With that, you let out a deep sigh and slump against the man behind your back.
“Eh, you’re probably right,” you exhale. You toss back the last little sip in your ceramic cup, savoring the flavor.
“You know what, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’ll just be that shop girl around the corner who throws herself into her work, makes her little remedies, and stays happily independent. I think I can live with that.”
A pause streches between you.
“You don’t sound too convincing, Shop Girl,” he teases.
“Shit,” you tsk.
You both wheeze with laughter, your bodies rumbling against one another and it’s so… relaxing. He’s surprisingly easy to talk to. Perhaps it’s because he doesn’t say much. Or that what little he does say is said with a sincerity you’re not used to. Or you’re drunk. It could very well be that.
But in a galaxy full of deceit and unknown dangers, it’s refreshing to talk with someone as honest as him. He’s authentic, unapologetically so.
“Hey so… can I ask you something?”
“You’ve been asking things this whole time,” he teases.
“I know, but… it’s technically a helmet question. And you can tell me to fuck off if it’s too much.”
Mando hums and the rumble reverberates through your body, nesting warmly in your chest. He’s settled comfortably against you and it makes you feel close enough to ask what you want to ask. After thinking it over he gives you permission.
“Can’t wait to hear this,” he sighs with a little amusement.
You smile. To your surprise, he actually has a good sense of humor. A dry, blunt one . But humor nonetheless. You run a finger over the rim of your cup, finding a little more courage.
“Mando… Have you ever kissed anyone before?”
It’s a simple enough question, right? It’s within the ballpark of the topics you’ve been discussing. And you’re both adults. It’s not like it’s inappropriate…Right?
Oh god, you really are drunk…
Regret rises with each passing second and you wonder why you even brought it up. It’s probably some kind of insult to his creed to ask something like that.
“Too much,” you broach gently.
“No,” he says softly. “You’re not exactly the first person to ask that. Doubt you’ll be the last.”
He pauses for a moment to find the right words. Then with a heavy exhale he gives you an answer to your insanely intrusive question.
“I was pretty young when I took the creed,” he states. “Ten, twelve maybe? Too young to be interested in those kinds of things. Never looked back since. To be completely honest, it’s not even something I really think about in adulthood. Never understood the hype.”
“Sooo, I’ll take that as a no.”
“No,” he breathes. “Never kissed anyone.”
Never kissed anyone? Never felt a person’s soft lips against his own or graze his skin? Does that mean he hasn’t gotten to experience more than kissing? Licking? Biting? Or…
Do not finish that thought…
“Huh… Well, that’s a shame,” you say without thinking, quickly adding “-but at the same time, I completely understand it too! I mean, it shows a lot of self discipline, you know? To resist that kind of… temptation. Most people don’t have any reason to be disciplined enough to stay chaste. I can admire tha-"
“I said I’ve never kissed anyone, I didn’t say I never fucked.”
Thank… the Maker… you’re not face to face. Because the way your eyes bulged just now would’ve been downright embarrassing had it been caught. He didn’t just say sex or even screwing. The Mandalorian fucks. The alcohol in your blood seems to conjure a brief glimpse of what that might look like before you find enough coherence to shew it away.
“…oh,” you breathe out, effectively stopping your rambling. “I-I guess I just assumed…”
A deep exhale blows out of his nose. He hums, seemingly entertained by the foot you’ve put in your mouth. But also making the air light between you.
“Well, you assumed wrong.”
The humor in his voice settles your nerves a bit. Thankfully there isn’t an awkward air at the sudden change to such a topic despite hardly knowing each other. And oddly enough, it feels easy to talk about it for that very reason.
“You’re rather chatty when you drink, Mandalorian. I feel like I’m learning all sorts of things about you tonight.”
“You’re right,” he breathes. “I spoke without thinking, I apologize.”
“No, It’s fine. I don’t mind at all. It’s a relief to know there’s a man under all that armor and not solid metal.”
He hums again and the noise stirs something in your chest.
“Well, even so… It’s late… Probably best if I stop drinking.”
You look into your empty cup. Then glance over to the bottle with barely a drop left inside. Something inside you wilts. There’s nothing to keep him here any longer…
“Yeah… Me too.”
You’re not sure if you wait for him to move first or if he’s waiting for you. But both of you remain still for nearly a whole minute. Silent and hesitant to end the night. As comfortable as it is, you feel Mando’s back lean away from yours and you miss the warmth. You turn on the floor to find him standing up as he adjusts his helmet clasp and places his empty cup on the table.
“You were right. It tasted better shared,” he admits. A satisfied smile curls your lips.
“If you learned anything about me tonight, Mando, it’s that I am always right when it comes to liquor.”
“I appreciate the hospitality.”
“I appreciate the company.”
You place a hand on the table as an anchor in an attempt to stand up and follow him to the door. But as you try to stand straight, the room spins and your knees buckle.
Nope. Not doing that.
You sit your ass right back down on that cushion before you make an even bigger fool of yourself. Quick to respond, Mando catches your free arm. Making sure you land back down safely.
“You ok,” he asks, concerned but with a hint of humor.
“Pfft. Yeah, I’m good. I think I’ll just stay down here for a minute,” you chuckle, running a hand through your hair and closing your eyes for a moment.
For sure you’ll have a hangover tomorrow. Shit. You work tomorrow. There’s a couple things you’re running low on, too. You’ll have to request an order through the trading guild. That’ll cost credits. Maybe if you get that Chiss man again you can manage a trade and he can throw in those dried flower buds for that tea that keeps getting sold out.
You know you’re already a bit dizzy. But behind closed eyes you feel like your head is swaying. Or rather… that it’s being moved. Something warm and firm holds your jaw up and when your eyes flutter open again you’re met face to face with dark silver.
The Mandalorian stands barely a foot in front of you. Visor fixed down on your face. Maybe the wine has made your brain slow but it’s only when you follow the path from his shoulder and down his outstretched arm that you realize what’s holding your jaw… is his hand.
With a subtle pass of his thumb along your cheek you can feel warmth starting to pool in your face. Awareness pricks the hairs on the back of your neck when you realize your position. Sitting on your knees, face barely level to his waist as a wall of steel and muscle towers over you.
“Your cheeks get flushed when you drink,” he mutters.
When I drink. Suuuure.
“Now you know,” you mumble without thinking. It grants you a satisfied hum from his helmet and you feel it travel through your ears and under your skin.
“Now I know…,” he repeats.
There’s no movement, no words. But there’s something thick in the air. It’s heavy and enticing. It’d be so easy to get wrapped up in it with any sudden movement. You look up at him through half lidded eyes and you get a gut feeling that they’re meeting his. You’re not sure what his are giving away. But yours have to be hinting something you’ve been trying to hide all night.
With a sharp intake of air, Mando steps back and releases your face. Your head drops a little at the loss of support and it follows his direction as he walks towards the front door with quick, heavy steps. With a press of a button on the wall panel, the door panels slide open and just before he steps outside… he stops. Not looking back, just standing there at the edge of your home with his stand still resting on the doorway.
“Don’t invite me in again.”
And then he’s gone. The door panels shut swiftly, leaving you alone and more confused than when he showed up at your door.
…what?
•
Din wishes he could say that the first thing he thinks about when he got home that night was his sleeping kid safe in the crib. Or at the very least about how incredible that wine tasted. But after he undressed and collapsed down onto his bed half drunk, the only thought he couldn’t stop thinking about as he stared at the ceiling was…
Damn… it’s been a while.
For the past few years, Din’s life has flipped around a number of times. Between barely scraping by as a bounty hunter, saving an orphan kid from an imperial psychopath, losing said kid, then having him return and be by his side to reclaim the Mandalorian home-world, there’s not much time to indulge those kinds of needs. But just because Din found himself being a busy father later in life doesn’t make certain things dead.
No. Everything felt very much alive and kicking by the end of that bottle.
Behind closed eyes, his room feels like it swirls. After that wine, his body feels loose and relaxed. Something he rarely gets to experience these days. Images dance across his closed lids. Delicate, slender hands around a handmade cup. A pink flush on smooth skin. Plump tinted lips between his fingers, softly parted and begging to be touched. The intrusive impulse to dip a finger between those lips was so strong he could feel his hand move into the action before he could even think to do so.
All thanks to that one question. That simple, innocent question activated a deep part of his brain that lay dormant. And then he decided to shatter the care free atmosphere by with a crass remark about sex.
Never in his life has he regretted saying something so fast. You barely even know each other. Admittedly, Din isn’t exactly a refined person, far from it actually. But after his third glass, any semblance of manners flew right out the window. His mouth did the walking with little thinking involved.
Yet, you didn’t get uncomfortable. You handled the slip up with humor instead of getting offended or something just as bad. Using humor to make the air light again. It surprised him how easily you did it. How easy the conversation was all night, really. It’s not everyday he’s able to let his guard down with another person.
Once he was aware of that, he became aware of everything. How late the hour was, how drunk you both were, and how your bed was right behind where you both sat. Only separated by a simple room divider. Even when he tipped up his helmet, there was a heady herbal scent from you that kept swimming in his nose and it was just as intoxicating as the wine. He couldn’t trust himself to stay any longer. And now, in the safety of his own home, he finds himself preoccupied with a mountain of questions.
What kind of person are you? What’s your daily life like? What other places have you seen? What troubles you? You seem to be rooted here in Nevarro for the time being. But from what you’ve mentioned about your past, you have a kind of nomadic life. What happens if he… if the kid gets attached and you decide to move on to another planet? But then again, it’s not like he’s not one to talk though is he?
Loyalty. Solidarity. These are things that have been etched to his core since childhood. But giving those things to something that could be fleeting? That’s a risk he’s avoided for most of his life. Those kinds of wounds never heal.
But as much as he tries to distance himself, it’s not always in his control.
Three weeks go by and they couldn’t end soon enough. When he offered to work with Teva (or Blue as he usually calls him) on a case-by-case basis, he figured they’d be more involved than the bounty hunting trade. He’s spent up to a month off planet at times in order to capture a quarry so it’s not exactly new to him.
But that was when he had the Razor Crest. With a cot to rest in, a weapons locker, and supplies readily at hand. In that regard, the N-1 leaves much to be desired. Plus Din’s back isn’t what it used to be and long rides in that ship are killer. And to add insult to injury, this last case with Zeb was especially complicated to resolve. It left him and the kid completely drained.
After finally landing back in Nevarro with fresh credits, there is absolutely nothing Din wants more than to just go home, bathe, and sleep for at least a day. But he’s got a very hungry green mouth to feed and there’s no way Din is fixing up any dinner tonight.
Street food it is.
“Alright, we’re making this quick. In and out. I’ll get you as much food as you want and you can pick out one sweet. Not five. One. Got that?” Grogu tilts his head at Din curiously from where he follows behind on the cobblestone street and he’ll just take that as a yes.
Dozens of food stalls are gathered at the main square in town as he approaches. Adorned with all sorts of neon signs, string lights and colorful banners. It’s a busy atmosphere filled with people laughing, vendors calling out for customers to stop by, and sounds of clanking and sizzling as they cook.
Din gravitates towards the skewers stand. He knows Grogu is going to down ten of them by himself so he opts for something easy, filling, and cheap. He catches sight of those spicy chunks of fatty meat searing over lava coals and his mouth waters.
“Okay, which onesss-“
Din reaches down to pick up his son only to find the street bricks.
“-Sssshhhhit,” he hisses under his breath, glancing around. This fucking kid. He knows better than to run off.
The crowd is thick and it’s getting dark. He scans through the sea of people and vendors but doesn’t find that familiar pale green.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
With a tap of his helmet side panel he switches to the tracking beacon screen. After enough scares like these he’s learned to have a tracker sewn into his clothes at this point.
Blinking red arrows come into his view and he follows the path. Not caring whose shoulders he budges or what food he knocks out of someone’s grip to get through. The red arrows turn yellow. He’s getting close but there’s still no visual of the kid and he’s starting to panic. He pushes through, scanning side to side and calling out his name in an orchestra of noises without reply.
Yellow turns to green and he’s still out of sight. He’s tiny and easy to miss. Grogu could be anywhere, he could be in any one of these stalls. What if he’s taken? What if someone else is tracking him? He could be picked up by a total stranger and taken away again.
Just as that thought crosses his mind, there’s a small separation in the crowd. Big floppy ears come into view and he’s definitely been picked up. But it’s no stranger that holds him.
“And here comes dad~” A voice soft as silk rings inside his helmet.
Relief floods his body as well as caution when he taps his screen clear. Only him. Situations like this only happen to him. It could’ve been Karga. It could’ve been anybody. But it had to be you that found him.
It was barely two minutes. But within those two minutes Din’s head flooded with every worst case scenario possible. And here he is. Happily babbling in your arms like he didn’t just give his dad a fucking heart attack.
“I know, I know,” you assure him like you can already tell where his head’s at, trying to speak over all the noise. “Don’t be too hard on the little guy. I already gave him a bit of a lecture for running around at night.”
Din wants to. It’s honestly his first reaction. But a cooler head prevails and he decides against it after a second thought. He reminds himself (once again) that Grogu is still young and that getting angry would only make things worse. What matters is that he’s safe and that he managed to find you.
“At least he won’t have to hear it twice,” he exhales, pushing out the stress sitting in his lungs. “Sorry about him.”
“No, no sorry needed. He’s smarter than he lets on. At least he ran to someone he knew. I’m glad I was around.”
Din opens his mouth to speak but ends up falling short with his words. Now that some of the stress has left his body, his eyes take you in at a second glance. Unclouded by the adrenaline.
Your hair is tied up with a pin with a few loose pieces falling at the nape of your neck and around your face. With the heat persisting into the night, you decided to wear a thin strap tank top that hangs low on your chest. It exposes miles of smooth skin, from your shoulders all the way down the arms wrapped around his kid. A dusty blue apron wraps around your waist over some baggy cargo pants so you must’ve came here right after work. There’s a glow from all the neon lights that adorns you and he has to will his mouth to move before he gets caught staring.
“Here.” He extends his hands to you. “I can take him back. Thank you for catching him. C’mon, bud. Let her get back to shopping.”
“It’s no problem,” you assure him with a smile. Your hands hooks under Grogus tiny arms and start to pull him off your torso. “Back to dad you go.”
But the moment he’s barely lifted, he cries out in protest with a shrill whine. Refusing to leave your side. You pull him back in instantly and run a soothing hand on his back.
“Oh! Okay, okay. You can stay with me for a minute,” you giggle in a sugary voice to Grogu. Bouncing him on your hip.
You both exchange a look of surprise (as much as his visor can give off anyway). What kind of person are you that Grogu prefers your embrace over his own father? He doesn’t know whether to be jealous or impressed.
But it’s getting late, they need to eat and get home and you probably need to get back to your own errands. Din’s hands extends again to take Grogu but you shake your head with a little smile. Letting him know it’s not an inconvenience to you.
“Here, wanna help me pick out some sweets?”
Grogu coos at your request, toying with the glittering silver chain pendant on your neck. You rest his kid on your hip effortlessly and the motion of it pinches something deep in Din’s chest. Turning to the assorted trays of sugared fruits on skewers, you list the various kinds for Grogu to pick out. Talking back with him like you can actually understand his little babbles. You answer him with “ooh, that’s a good choice” and “these are my favorites”.
Din just stands aside, watching the way you both interact and it’s admittedly a bit pleasing to see how natural you are with him. Most people think he’s a pet at first glance. Karga treats him like a newborn. Talking gibberish and doting on him despite him handling a 50 year old. You, on the other hand, just treat him like a regular kid. And it’s refreshing to see.
His son’s head spins back at his father with the biggest set of sparkling inky eyes and Din can see the pleading question in them. He tilts his helmet at him and reminds him “one”. Those large ears deflate a little and you giggle at the interaction. Din offers to pay for your skewer along with Grogu’s as another thank you for looking after his son (again). The vendor gathers the treats in paper wrappers to take to go.
You turn to ask Din something, but it’s covered by the noise of yelling and cooking. He tilts his head a bit lower to try and catch what you’re saying. Then, without hesitation, your hand finds purchase on the pauldron on his shoulder. Prompting him to lean in closer to you so you can speak within earshot.
“It’s been a minute since I saw you last,” you remark with a raised voice. “Everything good?”
Shit.
For a second he freezes. Partly at the lack of distance between you, but mostly because the last time he saw you he stormed out of your place like it was on fire without so much as a goodnight. You’re probably wondering what the hell that was about and he honestly can’t answer that himself. Although your expression seems more cheerful than troubled. He crouches closer to your ears and replies with caution, hoping to avoid the direction of that conversation.
“Yeah, we’ve been um… traveling a lot lately. I get contracted by the new republic pretty often these days. Leaving him behind with someone whenever I’m off planet for too long doesn’t seem fair to him so he’s always by my side no matter what.”
“Ah, that makes sense. You usually stop by for medkit supplies so when I didn’t see you last week I figured you were away.”
Din mentally smacks his forehead. Right. Of course you meant the shop. Because what else would you be implying to a fucking customer? You’re just making small talk. Something he has never really gotten the hang of. Seems pretty damn easy when he’s drinking though…
“We actually just got back. Too tired to fix something up so I figured I’d grab us something quick and easy before heading home.”
“Ugh. I feel that. When I get home I’m crashing on the first soft surface I see,” you groan, still bouncing Grogu on the curve of your hip. Those hips…
No. Stop it.
“Busy day,” he asks and your eyes roll upwards.
“Busy week,” you exclaim. “I swear I think about quitting at least once a day. But I like it too much. Plus it’s the only thing I’m any good at. Otherwise I’d probably be some kind of criminal.” You pause then laugh at the thought before adding, “then you’d probably have to hunt me down, huh?”
That… is a scenario that he already knows is going to stick in his brain for a while. It’s such an enticing thought that he doesn’t bother to tell you he’s not in that business anymore. A tiny part of him would much rather have you think he’d chase you. Obviously you’re not serious, but he can’t help but lean into the joke.
“I don’t know,” he says unconvinced. “Might be pretty easy to find you. All I have to do is look wherever there’s street food.”
A laugh bubbles out of you and there’s a strange feeling that radiates in his chest at being able to make you laugh. Pride maybe? No, more like… satisfaction.
“Don’t underestimate me, Mando. I know my way around the outer rim. I’d make you work for it,” you say. Taunting him with a knowing smirk.
A smile tugs higher on his hidden face. The thought of you making him work for anything will no doubt be food for thought later. And instinct tells him that might’ve been your intention. But two can play at this game.
You’re already nearly face to face but he inches even closer, almost close enough for metal to meet skin. Ensuring you catch every word right into your ear.
“I’d like to see you try, Shop Girl.”
Your eyes grow a little wider at the sound of your nickname and he takes pleasure at just how effective it is. It’s another reminder of that night. A name that was spoken within an intimate atmosphere that only the two of you occupied. And by your expression, that same thought crosses your mind too.
You bite your bottom lip in a smile. The same lips that were between his hands. The only lips he can’t seem to forget. The shape, the color, and how fucking edible they look. He’s even noticed how they pout a little when you’re concentrated on a task. More questions surface.
What do they feel like? What do they taste like? What makes a kiss so good that everyone can recall their first?
The bubble created is suddenly burst by the outside world. The stall vendor gleefully hands over the candied fruit over the counter in their wrappers and you take them with your free hand. Handing the mixed one to Grogu because he couldn’t decide on just one flavor. Reality returns to Din’s head and his thoughts immediately sober up.
What the hell is he doing?
He tears his eyes away. Even if you can’t tell, looking at you like that for too long feels wrong. You’re a good person, you’re trying to live a normal life, and what you’ve told him you’re not looking to get involved in any drama. He has to keep reminding himself of those things.
That same instinct to leave hits him again. Because that urge to do something he can’t take back flares up again and it’s best to not give that feeling any more energy. For both your sakes. He gestures his hand in a hand-him-over motion, signaling to you and Grogu that it’s time to go.
“Alright, time to go kid. Say goodnight.”
Grogu whines with a mouthful of sweets and a face covered in sugar and it makes him chuckle to himself. Din would normally find the defiance a little cute, if it wasn’t for the stunt he pulled earlier. You carefully hand him over with both arms leaning in close and again he feels another pinch in his chest at how carefully you exchange him.
Your bare arms graze against his clothed ones and he pulls away the second he has hold of his kid. He ignores the small current of electricity from the contact and maneuvers Grogu into the crossbody bag to his hip. Which, of course, makes him protest.
“Nope. You had your chance. Now you get the bag.”
“Aw c’mon,” you scold “He was just playing around. Now he’s in bag jail?”
First the kid and now you? He can tell his son no, but it might be a little harder to tell you that.
“Yeah, yeah. Maybe next time he’ll think twice about running off in a crowd,” he groans.
Once the kid is settled in the bag, you follow him down. Crouching down, you sit face to face with Grogu as he stuffs his face with the candied fruit. Resting your free hand on his fuzzy head as the other holds your own skewered treat.
“Kay, little rebel. Go stuff your face with some good food. And take it easy on your poor dad, alright? He’s not built for that kinda stress.”
“What’s that supposed to mean,” he asks, kind of amused by your ribbing. He can count on one hand the people who are undaunted enough to make playful jabs at him.
Your lips twist and your eyes take a tour up to your brows as you think of your reply.
“Hmm… just the way you get a little impatient sometimes. You were like that when you brought him over and paced my living room for an hour,” you chuckle. “You seem like the kind of man who gets antsy when something’s not in your control.”
A smile threatens to crawl his face. Pretty presumptuous. But he can’t deny how true that statement rings. Especially nowadays when it’s not just himself he has to worry about.
“Maybe so,” he replies with a hint of humor in his voice. “Patience isn’t really my strong suit. Although this one seems to enjoy testing it.”
“Patience is bitter,” you muse as you rub the top of Grogu’s head with your thumb. He coos with delight and the softest gaze glows on your face. Then from your crouched position, your eyes glance back up at Din and add, “…But the fruit is sweet.”
His jaw flexes beneath his helmet, and heat now courses through his veins.
That can’t be a good sign. He already enjoys your banter too much as it is. But that look just now was dangerous. It dredges up thoughts he shouldn’t have about you. Thoughts like kissing someone he barely knows. Feeling skin on skin. Showing you what a man like him can do to you compared to the boys of your past.
He saw it all over your pretty face when he held it in his hand. That flush on your cheeks, your dilated pupils. Hell, he even saw your heat signature rising in his helmet screen for fuck sake. There’s an attraction and that’s fine (and not completely unreciprocated) but it can’t be anything more than that.
You and him live completely different lives. There’s no need to uproot your peace and get involved in his complicated affairs. Even if something happened, it wouldn’t be long before the allure of the suit and mystery people usually perceive of Mandalorians would turn into repulsion.
That’s how it’s gone before. That’s the way it is.
•
You’re a bad person. A horrible human being and a shameless lowlife. Downright beyond saving.
I’d like to see you try, Shop Girl.
The damn sentence won’t stop replaying in your head. It’s not just a nickname. It’s a nickname he gave you. One that’s covered in underlying context and memories that only the two of you share. One that peppers your skin with goosebumps when it comes out of that raspy modulated voice. It’s even worse when your brain starts intrusively placing it in all sorts of sentences.
That’s it, Shop Girl…
You’re doing so well, Shop Girl…
Bend over for me, Shop Girl…
That last one has crawled into your dreams more often than you’d care to admit lately.
You need to get a grip. It’s just an attraction. You’ve been alone for too long and you’re getting all wound up over a smidge of attention. He’s just a regular decent person with a kid to take care of who also just happens to have an amazingly muscular body and a voice of sin. Simple as that.
Right. Simple.
After that night at the food stalls, the Mandalorian and Grogu have been visiting your humble Clinic Shop on a more frequently. Usually you'll see them a couple times a week if they're not on one of their long haul trips. Missions? Jobs?
It's not like Mando has any reason to let you know ahead of time. But when a week or so passes with no sign of silver or green, you can't help but feel a little down. You've come to look forward to seeing your regulars. But they grown to being your favorite customers.
And if you're being honest, theres a growing part of you that feels tied to the man in silver beskar. When he's here, the part blossoms. And when he's gone, it feels... wilted. It's unexpected and confusing to say the least. The closest feeling you could label it is homesickness. And truthfully, you're not really sure if you want to feel such a heavy thing towards anybody right now.
There's a lull in the store this hot muggy afternoon. You've already finished your prescription orders, restocked your shelves, even watered all the potted plants outside the entrance. Since you finally have some down time, you figured you might as well get to making some of your popular tea mixes.
On the back counter, you have a variety of dried herbs, flower buds, tea leaves, and a few large mixing bowls. The scent in the shop is incredible right now. Swirling around on the wind propelled by the metal fans around the shop. Spiced and aromatic with a hint of fruitiness. You let the smell fill your lungs and relax your body as you place measured scoops of the mix into small paper bags. A bead of sweat tracks down the back of your neck. Even with pinning your hair up and the strapless wrap you chose to wear today, the heat of the day still clings to your damp skin.
A cool glass of that Andoan wine would be so good right about now...
Maybe it was instinct, or maybe there really is some kind of invisible tie. But something makes your head tilt to the side and glance at the open entrance. And it's then that a glint of sliver light reflects on the stucco walls. A flutter of anticipation strikes through your chest and your eyes are locked at the entrance. Then, that familiar Silver T-visor and a pair of floppy green ears peek around the corner.
The smile that spreads across your cheeks is so big it almost hurts.
"Hey," you exclaim from the back of the store. You leave your station and excitedly make your way across the store to the pair as they step inside.
“It’s been a whi-“
“Ah ah, sorry," you cut Mando off mid greeting, halting him with your pointer finger. "Grogu gets first dibs.”
Mando shakes his head but you can tell he's humored. Turning his hip to the side and giving you access to the canvas crossbody where Grogu resides.
“Even though I'm a regular customer," Mando retorts.
If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that sounded a teensy bit like jealousy. You smirk, giving eyes only to the little green baby.
“Not when you’re as cute as him.” You say, placing Grogu on your hip and giving him little scritches on his wrinkled head.
“Isn’t that right, Kid. Mando wishes he could be half as cute as you.” The child coos at you and Mando shakes his head. But you can tell by his body language that he's at least a little amused.
You walk back to the back counter with the kid in your arms and Mando in tow behind you. And the feeling you have in this moment is oddly... domestic? You're not entirely sure if that's the right word. In your life you've never experienced domesticity. But you figure it's similar to that homesick feeling you get.
You place Grogu on top of your station and pull out an herbal lollipop from your apron for him. You like to keep a few handy for kids and they also help with coughs. The kids inky eyes gleam as he babbles and plunges the sugary candy in his mouth.
"Any chance that delivery for those new Pharmakits arrived yet," Mando asks, leaning a hand on the counter next to you.
"They did," you nod. "Any chance you're planning on taking on an army on your next trip?"
He shrugs, tilting his helmet to the side in that way he does when he's being aloof.
"Doesn't hurt to keep one on hand. You never know."
You hum in acknowledgment but inside a pit forms in your stomach. The danger he faces whenever he goes on these "jobs" isn't lost on you. Lately, it's been on the back of your mind more often than not. On his last visit, when he asked about ordering stronger meds and triage supplies, it hit you just how much his long absences affect you. And just the thought of never seeing him or his little boy again stirs up something vile inside.
“You seem to be busy today,” he remarks, pointing out all the open jars and mixing bowls with various dried leaves and herbs.
His remark takes you out of your thoughts. You must've been silent a second too long for him to change the subject like that. With a deep inhale and slight embarrassment you shrug off the negative thoughts and ground yourself back to reality.
“Yes and no. I’ve been restocking while it’s dead to keep busy.”
He leans in a bit to get a closer look at the contents of the bowl. Close enough for you to catch the scent of smoke and musk on his clothes.
“You’re mixing… tea?”
You hum a yes and nod.
“Tea can be used for lots of medicinal purposes. Many people prefer natural remedies to pharmaceutical ones. I try to have a mix of both.”
“So this is medicine?” You sway your head to the side, trying to think of the best way to explain the purpose of the tea.
“Kiiind of. You could say it’s preventative.”
“What does it prevent?”
“Pregnancy.”
A clearing of his throat follows your answer. You turn toward him with a smirk and a raised brow but his visor has now turned away your face.
Most fearsome bounty hunter in the outer rim, everybody.
“You asked, man,” you chuckle with a shrug.
“Guess that’s on me,” he says.
“This is actually one of my best sellers,” you tell him. You grab the wooden scoop and raise up the floral mix, letting the various petals and herbs rain back down into the bowl. The motion makes the sweet scent drive up in the air. “I have customers tell me they don’t leave the house before their daily brew.”
“I’m glad business is going well for you,” he deflects, making you fold your smile in your teeth. And suddenly your brain sees a prime opportunity.
“You know, Mando…,” you drawl as you mix the petals. “If you’re ever in a pinch and you need some, I could give you a sample.” The way his helmet jerks to face you almost breaks your nonchalant smile.
“That’s um… very generous but it’d be wasted on me.” His body straightens stiffly and you can tell the topic makes him a bit uneasy. But you press on anyway.
“You sure? You can never be too safe. I’m sure any visitors would appreciate it.” He sighs deeply and turns away, shaking his head in annoyance.
God, this is too much fun. Teasing him is so easy. If it wasn’t for the helmet you bet he’s sweating right now. He might look cool and collected. But after drinking with him, you know there’s in fact a man under all that metal.
“I’m sure,” Mando confirms. “I'm not seeing anyone at the moment.”
And there’s the answer you’re looking for.
Was it a bit sneaky? Yeah. Yeah, it was sneaky. But it rules out the theory that reason he told you not to invite home again was because he’s currently taken. It’s still an enigma as to why. But honestly there’s still the gut feeling that you did something to make him uncomfortable that night.
Maybe you crossed a line with one of your questions. You tend to ask a lot of questions. Your filter also isn’t everybody’s flavor. Even so, you had a great time talking, even joking around with him. You’ve come to cherish that night in your memory. And the thought that you obliviously might’ve said something to offend Mando in any way makes your chest ache.
But if that was the case then why has he been stopping by your store more frequently since then? He always says he’s restocking his med kit but you get the feeling there’s more to it than that. Almost as if he’s checking up on you. Making sure you’re doing ok. And above all, that’s what scares you.
It’s scares you how good that thought makes you feel.
“Picking up an order!” An unfriendly voice bellows from the entrance where a Trandoshan man in fine robes stands waiting. “Name’s Samir T’ar.”
It takes a second to snap back into action. But you slap on your best customer service smile and leave your task for later. Rounding the corner past Mando and the kid and walking to the Medicine Cabinet. Wiping the non-existent dust on your hands on your waist apron.
“Hi, yes! I’ll grab that for you right now.”
The Trandoshan stands waiting at the counter as you sort through the assorted orders in the glass case. Looking for the right name tag and plucking the tied linen bag. You dont turn your eyes toward him, but Mando’s pressance is all your body is aware of. You can tell he’s miandering through the shop, looking at various items on the shelves. Which, to you, is a bit funny since hes been here plenty of times by now.
Is he playing the curious customer right now because there’s someone here?
You rest the tied bag next to the register as you run the total. All while the Trandoshan taps his clawed fingers impatiently on the check out counter.
“‘Kay with the compounded medicine and the herbal soak salts, that puts you at… fifteen credits today.”
“It was twelve the last time.”
“Yyyeesss, some of the ingredients for the meds were hard to come by this time around. Outer rim shipping routes, and all that,” you smile, trying to humorously reason with the man.
“And that’s supposed to be my fault? Just make it the same price as before and I’ll be on my way already.”
Ugh, great. One of those.
“I understand where you’re coming from, really. But fifteen is pretty fair considering the initial cost of acquiring ingredients of this high quality. Can’t beat the price compared to those New Republic clinics-"
“Nonononono," he waves with both hands in disapproval. “I’m not paying a single credit more for something I can make myself.”
That’s kind of the point of it buying here, right? To save yourself the trouble of making it?
“Sorry. Price is firm," you say confidently but kindly. "Buuut, how about if I throw in a couple sample heating pain patches. Free of charge,” you chirp, unfazed by his condescension.
Work with me, guy. There’s a man packing heat in the back…
“How about I give you ten for the order and leave? I don’t need you to peddle your-“
It’s a hand that shuts him up. Not yours, as much as it twitches to swipe that bag and toss in it the trash. No. This hand is big. Leather clad. And planted firmly on the counter between you and the customer.
“You can pay the fifteen or you can leave. But what you won’t do,” Mando leans in towards the Trandoshan for effect. “-is talk to her like that again. Make your choice.”
With his chest pressed to the back of your shoulder, you struggle to not squirm. You can feel his heat on your body. His frame eclipses yours from behind. The smell of gun smoke and musk caresses your nose and you die a little inside. But it’s his words that make you want to melt into a puddle.
He didn’t just ask, he demanded for you to be treated with respect. Not that you can’t hold your own when it comes to defending yourself against snarky customers. But the way Mando didn’t even hesitate to intervene on your behalf. It stirs up all sorts of thoughts.
Oh maker, you really are a shitty person. The man stands up for you and all you can think about is how hot he sounded.
The Trandoshan swallows hard. Mando might as well a knife to the guy’s throat with the look of silent terror on his reptilian face. Without even breaking eye contact with Mando, he stuffs his clawed hand in his pockets, and pulls about 20 credit chips without counting. Letting them clatter on the counter as he tosses them.
“H-here,” he stutters. “Fifteen is fair.” With that he snatches his order from the countertop and makes a hasty exit.
“Have a nice day~,” you sing-song as he scurries out onto the street.
You shift your eyes up to Mando, his palm still pressed flat against the counter with his other hand thumbing his belt. His visor follows the customer as he leaves and you can tell that his body language doesn’t relax until the he’s completely out of sight.
“Fucker…,” he mutters under his breath. When he finally turns his visor to you, he finds a knowing little smirk on your face.
“What?”
“You know, if you really wanted to scare him, you could’ve just pulled out your blaster.”
His visor turns away and he takes a step back as if he’s been caught doing something out of character. And if it wasn’t for his confident stance, you’d almost say he got a little flustered just now.
“I didn’t like the way he spoke you,” he grumbles. Which only makes you giggle.
“You’re right,” you agree with a serious tone. Slamming your palms on the counter. “That’s the last straw! I’ll have to close and resort to a life of crime after all!”
Although you can’t read his face, his body language says it all. He tilts his head to the side in a way that can only mean “are you fucking kidding me” and it only makes you smile harder.
“C’mooon, it’s funny,” you say. But he’s still not charmed.
“Does he always treat you like that,” he asks like he needs to know for certain.
You fold your lips between your teeth to hide your smile. He’s concerned for you and you can’t help but bathe in it. At least for a little bit.
“And if I said yes?”
“I’m being serious.”
“It’s fine, Mando. It’s really not a big deal for me. Look, if I let every snippy customer get to me, I wouldn’t have a business. I’m a big girl. I can fight for my honor all on my own, don’t you worry.”
“That’s not the point.”
“Yeah? What is your point then?”
He steps in closer. Forcing you crane your neck to face him. Your backside unconsciously presses against the back of the counter and you’re pinned. He’s impossibly close. Close enough to see your eyes reflected on the inky black screen. Knowing he’s captured your full attention, he hits you with a bombshell that devastates you.
“I wouldn’t let anyone disrespect you when I can do something about it,” he says crystal clear, lowering his voice. “If someone gives you trouble, they’ll deal with me before they mess with you... Understand?”
That shuts you right up. Your playful expression falls, now replaced with silent astonishment. He keeps saying things that reach deep inside you, making your chest tight. Words like that make it hard to breathe.
You feel utterly captured and it’s no wonder he was the best hunter in the outer rim. Because even though he’ll defend your honor and call you sweet nicknames… all he has to do is stand his ground in front of you to make you feel like prey. And fuck, do you wanna be caught…
“Ok,” you breathe when you find the courage. “I understand now.”
“Good…”
Silence streches between you and it feels as though you’re both waiting for something to happen. Something that feels like it’s been teetering on the edge since the night you drank together. It’s connected and deep in a way you’ve never experienced before. You can tell it’s something he’s afraid to say out loud.
What you’re both afraid to say out loud.
He doesn’t move. Doesn’t add anything to his statement. He’s got you locked in his gaze with no escape. And for a moment you wonder if he’ll take hold of your jaw again. Goosebumps rise to your skin because it wants so badly to close the gap.
Suddenly, a call rings from the vambrace on Mando’s forearm, abruptly breaking the tension. At first he hesitates to address it, still locked onto you. But after the second ring he lets out an aggravated sigh and steps away to check the incoming call.
You walk back to your work table and mixing bowl of tea to give yourself something to do while your breathing returns to normal. Scooping a measured cup from a large jar of dried leaves before adding it in.
Grogu sits with his little feet dangling over the table, now finished with the lollipop and looking at the candy-less stick with droopy ears. And before Mando turns to look, you sneak his son another herbal lollipop from your apron.
"Don't tell your dad," you whisper, pressing your index finger over your lips. Which earns you a happy little "Batu" in understanding.
Mando is pacing around now. Conversing with a gruff sounding Lasat. You don’t eavesdrop per se, but words like “new lead”, “investigation”, and “high-risk” get your ears to perk up.
“Shit,” he sighs deeply once the call is done. Planting his hands on his hips.
“Work call?”
“They like to keep me busy, that’s for sure. Best not keep them waiting.”
“R-right! The pharmakits."
You walk towards side of your shop in the back closet where your new inventory sits in their delivery crates. Grabbing one case but then after a second thought grabbing another before turning back and handing them to Mando. When you return Grogu is already back in his father's tote still nursing his treat.
“Couple things," you disclaim, handing the cases to him. "Keep these in a dark cool place if you can. Heat can spoil some of the medicine. And if you ever find yourself needing the epibacta, I’d advise you to take in a safe place. This dose will knock you out cold for a while. Emergencies only.”
He takes the cases by the handles and gives you a nod of understanding.
“I appreciate it. I’ll try to avoid needing it.”
“Just… be safe.”
“I will…”
Another beat of silence. At this point it's starting to feel like you're waiting on the other person to break the ice. But after a moment, he clears his throat.
“Well... Until next time, Shop Girl.”
“Until next time,” you repeat.
He really should stop calling you that. But you just can’t bring yourself to stop him. What do even tell him if he asks why?
You turn to the holopad on the front counter and check the inventory list to give your hands something to do. Chewing your bottom lip as walks towards the exit. One step, then another…
“And thank you,” you quickly add before he steps out. His foot stalls just before reaching the street and you tap on the screen pretending not to notice. Your eyes glance up to him, catching his helmet peer at you over his shoulder “…for stepping in.”
“Anytime,” he says softly. He step out into the street and you exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You lean on the counter with your chin propped in your palm, now free to watch them go without notice.
Grogu turns back to look at you one last time, his tiny arm fighting against the fabric of his bag before popping out and waving at you. The adorable gesture makes you giggle. The little guy must know exactly how stinking cute he is. You wiggle your fingers back at him from behind the counter. Mando takes notice of his kid, turns his head back, and finds your gaze.
For a moment, everything’s frozen. People cross and mix in the street between you. Life seemingly goes on like any other day for everyone in town. But in your eyes, there’s only him. Only bright silver fills your vision. After a moment, Mando raises a hand for a final farewell, and in the next, he’s gone. Blended into the crowd.
An ache spreads in your chest, and that confirms it. You can’t deny that what you’ve been pushing down for months isn’t just an attraction. Strangers can be attracted to each other but he feels like anything but.
You like him. You like how you feel when he’s around and how safe his presence feels. You like that little skipped beat you get when something you said earns even the smallest chuckle from him. You like that he trusts you around his kid.
And you love that he keeps coming back.
You’ve tried to rationalize as just a simple customer acquaintance. But you can’t keep kidding yourself. Its always felt more than that. And you want to know more about him.
At the end of the day, you roll down the metal doors of your humble apothecary and walk the same 15 steps up to your home as you do everyday. You bathe, put on your most comfy shirt and sleep shorts, make yourself a simple meal, and wind down for the night. It’s been your routine everyday since you made this place your home.
Only tonight, despite all your trinkets, all your memories, and all your comforts, tonight your home feels a bit empty. Like something important has been removed and you can’t place what it was. With your dinner bowl in hand, you almost take your seat on the couch before thinking twice on it and choosing the floor of your living room instead tonight.
You actually find it to be pretty comfortable. More grounding. You only wish you had something warm to lean back on.
•
Din thought Guild Master Greef Karga had an inflated ego. But High Magistrate Greef Karga makes that Karga look like a Jedi monk.
He finds himself sitting on a leather chase with his legs propped on the window ledge in Karga’s high tower office. He watches him spread and maneuver a 3D hologram model of Nevarro and the town. His voice filled with ambition as he explains all his new projects for the upcoming year.
“We’ll put the lodges here, here, and here. They’ll have access to the hot springs in the crawling canyons and docks will be built around the water edges. I’ve spoken with that lovely Twi’lek bathhouse owner and she’s spending her best architects to Nevarro as a personal favor to me. It’s going to be the jewel of the rim I tell you!”
Much of the dialog goes over Dins head. Mostly because he’s dead tired and currently operating on less than four hours of sleep. They only landed a couple hours ago from another grueling mission. He partly listens to Karga’s plans, partly watches Grogu quietly sit on the hologram table as he stuffs his mouth with blue cookies his “uncle” has given him. But mostly, Din gazes out one of the many windows in his 360 degree office. Watching the sun set over the canyons and turn the sky a dusty pink.
The shiny bronze protocol droid shuffles around the office with a silver tray with two crystal glasses of spotchka. He offers a glowing glass to Karga who gladly takes it. Then the droid starts to approach Din with the platter, offering him a glass as well.
“Uh no no, he doesn’t drink,” Karga quickly corrects, taking a momentary pause from his plans. The shiny droid fumbles a bit, flustered, then offers an apology before scuttling away with the tray.
Mando doesn’t even bother to correct them. Too much energy. It’s true, he’s never accepted alcohol in front of Karga. Especially in those early guild days when trust was low. But even to this day, Din doesn’t drink around people.
Well… most people, that is.
An image of last time Din saw you pops into his head. That thick, slightly mussed hair tied up with a hair stick. Dewy skin. All smiles and laughter. You wore a deep blue torso wrap that time, His eyes kept following the lines of your collar bones and all that exposed skin seemed to glow in the reflected sunlight in the shop.
And those lips. Those goddamn pink tinted lips that he can’t get out of his head. If that’s not the definition of beauty he doesn’t know what is.
Your teasing is something he’s growing used to. But that day you pushed too far. You weren’t taking him seriously and you shouldn’t be the only one who gets to tease, right? When he cornered you against the counter, he made it known just how serious he was about defending you. That flush came back to your cheeks and your breathing had picked up. You had no idea, but your eyes had found his and it made heat pool in his lower abdomen as he got lost in the color of them.
In that moment, Din wrestled back the impulse to lift you up on that countertop, spread those perfect legs and-
“-Right, Mando?” Karga’s voice interrupts just as that train of thought was getting good. Din turns his visor over to him.
“Hmm?”
“You just agreed to let the kid spend the night here.”
“Right. Yeah,” Din scoffs. “Was that before or after I sold my ship to the Jawas,” he replies in a gruff tone. Karga doesn’t find the sarcasm amusing.
“Alright, alright.”
“Maybe I’ll sell them my armor while I’m at it.”
“I get it,” he exclaims. “You weren’t even listening! I was talking about the space port proposal and I can’t even tell where you clocked out. That's not like you, Mando.”
“I’m tired. I just got back from a long trip.” Kargas eyes glance between Din and the window he's been looking out from.
“I wouldn’t say tired. More like… Distracted.”
He says the word with an insinuation Din would rather do without.
“It’s nothing,” he deflects.
“Hey, you know me, Mando. I’m not one to judge,” Karga says, throwing his hands in the air. “If there’s anything on your mind I’m all ears. Money, politics, work, women-“
“There’s nothing to discuss. I’m fine," Din deadpans.
Kargas covers Grogus ears, who is too preoccupied by his munching to mind.
“Sounds like you need to get laid.”
Maker...
“You’re sordid,” he grumbles, shaking his head and turning back to the window. Karga just laughs. Amusement written all over his wrinkled face.
The arguments were one of the main things that changed between them over the last few years. Now they bicker like two old friends instead of two business associates. But one thing that has never changed is the way Karga tries to pressure him into revealing things out of him. Imperfectly human things.
He’d offer Din all sorts of things like spice or Twi’lek bathhouses just to see if he was capable of being tempted. And right now… there’s only one other person Din can think of capable of doing that.
“You know what I think? I think you’re starting to outgrow this lone wolf lifestyle of yours,” he speculates. “You’re a father now. Don’t you think the little one needs a mother?”
Dins helmet swivels back to Karga.
“Don’t you think you should stick to governing your town?”
“I was just getting to that," Karga exclaims excitedly. "You know we really should consider moving a few of the-“
“Here we go…,” Din sighs to himself.
What should’ve been a quick visit has turned into a one sided yap session. It’s been a couple weeks since he left and he’s eager to re-supply for his next run with Zeb. He’ll need to head to the square at some point as well. His home is in desperate need of a re-stock. And of course, a visit to the clinic probably wouldn’t be a bad idea if he’s already in the area.
Even from up here, your store can be seen at the far corner of the plaza. And every couple minutes, he can see you. Popping in and out of the small store and rearranging some of the potted plants outside. People greet you from the street and you turn to wave back.
It’s getting harder and harder to find excuses to go there that sound necessary. Last time he was there he picked up two new pharmakits, even though another two regular medkits sit unopened in his home. He’s been buying that energy tea you make, despite him being a kaf drinker his whole life. He keeps going back for shit he really doesn’t need. But if he was pressed to give a better reason, it’s mostly because he feels a need to check on you.
True, Nevarro has become significantly safer, but that doesn’t make it safe. Especially for a woman living completely on her own. You’re a kind hearted, giving person in a galaxy that does nothing but take. And someone like that should be protected. He’s looked the other way too many times in the past and he doesn’t want to be that person anymore. And plus the kid enjoys the visits.
Sure, the kid. Keep telling yourself that, Din…
A chiss man with a floating pallet of goods approaches your shop entrance and your attention turns from watering the plants to greet the vendor with a bright smile. You speak animately. And it would normally be endearing, if it wasn't directed towards another man. In the privacy of his helmet, Din grimmaces.
He shouldn’t be surprised. You’re well traveled, knowledgeable. It’s no wonder you’re able to buy products from so many places. But this particular vendor is getting a bit too close for Din’s comfort.
As usual, you talk with much enthusiasm. Sparking a conversation with the man. It’s clear you’re familiar with each other by the body language you both give off. And he’s not sure if it’s because you regularly get inventory from the man, or something beyond that.
You turn around on the balls of your feet to dip back inside the shop and as you do you’re completely oblivious to the way the Chiss’s head tilts to the side so his crimson eyes can roam your backside. And the only reason Din caught it was because the binocs in his visor seem to have unconsciously been turned on by his finger on his vambrace.
You return to with a small wooded box and open the lid to show him mineral salts, the kind he’s seen you make herbal soaks with. The vendor offers a large lidded glass jar of some kind of dried purple flower buds from his cart. With the added exchange of some credit chips, there’s more talking and smiling. Something he said makes you laugh as you sign his holopad and Din has to flex his fingers to stop them from clenching into a fist.
Enough. Stop watching.
The mental check forces Dins attention to shift back to whatever Karga keeps droning on about. You can associate with whoever you damn well please. It’s none of his concern who you do business with or what your personal life is like. Din nearly turns his visor away. But out of the furthest corner of his eye, he catches something he can’t tear away from.
The distance between the Chiss and you has suddenly shrunk. The moment unfolds in slow motion as his eyes chew on every second. The Chiss steps closer to lean down then…
Din’s arms uncross when the Chiss leans in close to your face. And before he knows it, the fucker plants a quick peck on your cheek. And you return it! The whole exchange lasts less than a second before you wave each other goodbye and he goes his separate way. You return inside with the product like nothing and Din sits there, completely rattled.
What… the fuck?
Was it a casual kiss? Did you even know that he was checking you out? If you did, was that a friendly goodbye gesture or was it flirtatious? That son of a bitch gets to walk around with bliss on his cheek all day now. Oddly enough, that’s what puts Din over the edge. A complete fucking stranger knows how your lips feel and he doesn’t.
Never in his life has he harbored thoughts like these. It’s downright pathetic. He feels corrupted.
“Fuck it,” he growls to himself beneath his breath.
“-Anyway, back to my point. I was considering having a port built for- hey!”
Before Karga has a chance to monologue further, Din has picked up his son from the edge of the desk—grubby hands still clinging to the bag of cookies—and has placed him right into Karga arms.
“I need you to watch over him for the night. I’ll come back for him in the morning.”
“Okay then? Fine by-.” Din doesn’t bother to listen because there’s no ending to that sentence that matters to him in this moment. He makes his exit, the slide doors opening as he nears them.
“Hey! Where do you think you’re going all puffed up like that?”
“I need to settle something,” he tosses back before letting the doors shut behind him.
The sun is getting low and a few other vendors are starting to take down their signs and close their doors. You’re probably getting ready to close up for the day yourself. Hopefully he’s able to catch you before then.
Each step on the cobblestone is heavy with purpose. And it's not unoticed the way several people on the street see an armor clad Mandalorian and scurry out of his way with a petrified look on their faces. But right now he doesn't particularly care. Right now everything in his head is clouded with the exception of one objective.
From a couple stores away, you catch him approaching from your peripheray. And he's not sure how to describe it, but it's like something in your body language softens when you see him. Your shoulders become less tense, your eyes gleam, and you cast him that bright toothy smile that could stop any man's heart.
“Ah! Hey! It’s been a while, Mando! How’s-“
“I need to have a word with you.”
Both your expression and your hand freeze momentarily in place, minus a suspicious quirk in your brow.
“Okaaay, you have my attention,” you chuckle, but there’s a nervous tone riding on it. “What can I do for you today?
“I need to speak with you," you tells you bluntly. "Privately.”
Confusion paints across your face and your smile falls a bit. Understanding how serious his request is.
“Like, right now,” you ask hesitantly.
“Preferably, yes,” he answers.
“Ok, yeah sure. Um… I’m just about to close up and we can head upstairs in a minute.” You start to turn away but then quickly turn back to him and immediately add “or we can go somewhere you’re more comfort-“
”It’s fine,” Din quickly interjects, stopping that train of thought. “This won’t take long anyway.”
You blink at him a couple times and give him a quiet “ok then” before turning around and preparing your shop to close.
Seems that Din’s command from his last visit was taken seriously. Regret over those words washes over him. If he’s being honest, being inside your home again sets off several red lights in his head. But he’s already on the verge of blurting out something teetering on the edge of his brain. Better to wait until he’s behind closed doors and away from any prying eyes. Or flirtatious vendors. This shouldn’t be complicated. He’ll make it quick.
He decides to wait around the corner of the shop where the stone steps meet your front door. He leans against the wall with his arms crossed and his finger nervously tapping his arm brace. After a few minutes you round the corner with your bag over your shoulder and lead the way into your home. Instinctively, he looks around for any eyes before entering and closing the door behind him.
“So where’s your boy,” you ask, tossing your bag on the couch and walking towards the kitchen. “I have to say I’m kind of surprised not to see him on your hip. You seem inseparable.”
Your voice is chipper but he can tell by your stiff body and lack of eye contact that you’re not entirely comfortable. For a moment Din reconsiders this encounter. But no. The sooner he this bug out of his system the better.
“He’s… spending the night with a friend,” he answers. Grabbing one of those ceramic cups from the cabinet, you fill it with water from the sink and he’s starting to think that you’re only doing that to keep your hands busy.
“Aaww, a sleepover? Is it his first-”
“If you don’t mind,” he cuts off. “I’d like to get to my point.”
“Oh… Y-yes, I'm sorry. I’m rambling,” you say sheepishly. “I’m just…,” you take a deep breath, rest the cup of water on the counter, and lean back against it. Eyes fixed to the floor.
“…it’s just what you said the last time you were here. And the way you approached me earlier, you seemed kinda… I don’t know, upset? I know you don’t wanna be here so I’m wondering what I did to upset you that you’d come here.”
Damn it… He’s such an asshole.
He should’ve never said that. You've been thinking this entire time that you’re at fault for his shitty social skills. Truthfully, with the way that wine had his head so deliciously foggy, he had to leave before his body did something it was aching to do, begging him to do. But how does he even begin to explain that?
“You didn’t do anything,” he answers immediately. But thinks on it once more. “Well… technically you did. But I’m not upset with you.”
“You’re not,” you ask him sheepishly.
“I’m not,” he assures.
A beat passes in silence as you chew over his words.
“Okaaay,” you say with a smirk, “now you really got my attention.”
That mischievous tone travels through Din’s helmet, in his ears, and settles warmly in the pit of his stomach. Something about the combination of your sweet voice and relaxed shift in your body language makes this whole interaction even more nerve wracking.
“Sooo, you wanted to talk to me about something I did?”
“Right.”
“Okay, sooo...” He feels you urging him to continue but now Din finds himself more cautious of his words now. If you’ve been silently worried about offending him the last thing he needs is for this to come off wrong way.
“It’s… a bit hard to explain,” he exhales. If he could pinch his brow right now he would. “To put it plainly, the night we drank together, you said something that’s been… stuck in my head.”
“Was it the thing about the name?”
“N-no.”
“Was it the Pantora story?
“No.”
“Was it the comment about knowing my liquor? Because I like a drink from time to time but I don’t have like a problem or anything-“
“No- Can I finish,” he asks impatiently.
“Okay, okay. Sorry. Go ahead.”
“When we were drinking, and talking… we said a lot of things and got into some deep conversations. And at one point, you asked me if I ever kissed anyone before. I said no back then because… I've never given it any thought in the past. But now it’s got me… curious.”
Your quirk your brow at him.
“Curious how?”
“I want to know what it’s like,” he answers plainly.
“… Sorry, what?”
“I need this… curiosity out of my head. It’s driving me crazy and I need it out of my system. So I figured… since you’re the one who mentioned it in the first place, you can help me kill it.”
“You’re… Okay so, hold on…,” you say with a shaky breath. “Are you… asking me to kiss you?”
“That’s… an oversimplification. But yeah.”
“You’re asking me to be your first kiss? Am I understanding you right?”
Maker, you ask a lot of questions. Are you always like this? You did the same exact thing when he gave you the wine. On any other day it would’ve been endearing but he didn’t anticipate the conversation lasting longer than a minute. Now his request sounds more and more lecherous with each passing second.
“I won’t bother you again after this. You have my word. It’s completely casual. Just killing a curiosity.”
“There’s a preeetty common phrase about curiosity and loth cats that goes differently.” A giggle tumbles out of your mouth on the tail end of that sentence and humility crawls under his skin.
“Sorry to waste your time.” He starts to turn towards the nearest exit when you step in to stop him. Placing a hand briefly on his arm in the space between his armor and the contact sends a current of electricity up his spine.
“No wait, don’t be like that,” you toy with him.
“I’m not laughing,” he spits. But you still have the nerve to giggle.
“It’s okay, Mando,” you laugh assuredly.
“No, it’s not. It’s ridiculous. I hate it. I hate that you put this in my head.”
You fold your lips between your teeth to try to hide your amusement. But you still can’t help but crack a smile a little at his frustration. He basically just confessed to having this obsession for months and he can tell by your smug expression that you’re enjoying how incredibly uncomfortable he is about this.
“You’re right. I’m… sorry,” you say under your breath. Trying to fix your face.
There’s a beat of silence. Stepping in closer, he tilts his head down to you. Locking you in his gaze. He takes pleasure in being nearly a full head taller and the way your breathing picks up before he says in a low gruff voice…
“No, you’re not.”
You smile behind your hand as your eyes dance across his visor, unknowingly locking eyes with the man beneath. You know you’re not sorry, just like he knows he’s not particularly sorry either. It’s not just this moment. It goes back to every interaction you’ve had together. The banter, the nicknames, the visits. He’s as much to blame as you are. And then… you slowly you shake your head, agreeing with him and confirming his suspicion.
Fuck, you’re cute. He hates that he loves how cute you are. He hates himself for not being stronger.
“Ok,” you nearly whisper. Looking up at him with the sweetest eyes. “I’ll help you.”
•
“Is all this really necessary?”
Din currently sits on the floor of your living room. The same spot as last time in fact. Your were the one that insisted on it and honestly he couldn't bring himself to tell you no. Since he sat down in the soft carpet, you've been flitting around your home turning off lamps, closing blinds, and covering any reflective items. Which, admittedly, he's greatful for. But the more time he spends here, alone with you, the more he's not going to want to leave.
“It’s not everyday you get your first kiss, Mando. I wanna make sure it’s a good one. I wish I could re-do mine.”
Gloves fingers flex and stretch restlessly on his knees as you approach the last lamp sitting on a side table in the living room and pause.
“Are you sure about this?”
Fuck no he’s not. But the sooner he does this, the sooner he can find some normalcy in his head again.
“Flip the switch," he says in a low modulated voice.
You fold in a growing smile before taking a deep breath and flicking the switch. Bathing the entire home in inky darkness. The silhouette of you through turns to hues of thermal green and red, carefully maneuvering through your living room by memory before finding your seat in the floor in front of him. And with slight hesitation, Din reaches up to remove the last barrier he has.
“Can you see anything?”
“Not a bit,” you answer.
With that confirmation, he unclasps the chin strap and slowly lifts the helmet up and off. He blinks several times to adjust his vision before finding the outline of the table and placing his helmet there. On the return, his head bumps into your outstretched hand. Not knowing that you had moved.
“Agh.”
“Sorry sorry,” you pull away. “Give me a moment, I’ll find you.”
Your hands search in the dark for him. He can’t see much but he can tell your hands land on nothing by the way the air between you moves and he doesn’t feel any contact on his person. So he reaches out, bumping into your arms and taking hold of them. Following the line of your forearm until he reaches your hands.
“Here," he murmurs. Gloved hands wrap around your wrists and gently lift them up. He guides your hands forward until…
You let out a small gasp when your hands find the warmth of his bare face. Soft and giving as opposed to the cold, unyielding beskar. Their movements are slow and explorative. Running your thumbs over his stubble. Surprisingly his hands don’t release their grasp. His leather clad digits press against the racing pulse in your wrist as his thumbs run over the back of your palm.
“This help?”
“Yes, thank you,” you whisper.
From sound of rustling on the rug, Din can sense your body leaning in. Your breath brushes over his skin for a moment before something warm presses against his chin and it takes a second to register that it’s your mouth. You ease him into the build up and he’s greatfull for it. Jaw. Then cheek. Then just grazing the furthest corner of his mouth.
And then… contact.
At first it doesn’t feel like much. Just something soft and warm pressing against his mouth. What most people refer to as a peck, he assumes. But it’s when you barely pull back and return for another that a shiver wracks his skin. Your lips lock in the return, molding together in perfect unison. And it’s fucking electric.
Just by feel alone, he senses that your lips are slightly open. So he mimics you. Giving his jaw just enough slack to respond as you go in again. The sensations have his mind in a thick fog. The soft flesh, the sweet taste, the faint suction. His skin feels like there’s live wires going off underneath. Giving in completely, he finally returns the kiss. Pressing into it with more confidence.
You hum against his mouth, and he dies a little inside.
That’s when the real hunger builds. There’s a slow simmering heat rising between you now. Without thinking, his hands grip your wrists a little harder. Pulling you in closer. The kiss grows a bit stronger with each return back into each other with no loss of contact. Lingering longer and breathing against one another.
He feels your head tilt more to the side and again he mimics your movement. The break only lasts a fraction of a moment. But in the re-entry, the tip of your soft tongue happens to brush his mouth. Sweet wetness coats his bottom lip and it’s in that instant Din feels all restraint leave his body.
Taking your face in his hand, he kisses you open mouthed, inviting you in. Your tongues slowly graze one another and if he fucking died in this moment he’d be ok with it knowing that he got to know how you taste.
The hunger becomes unbearable. Soon enough the breathing becomes heavier and the air becomes hot. Your arms end up wrapping over his shoulders, pulling him deeper and he’s more than happy to dive further. Another small noise escapes your throat and the vibration travels through his entire body.
He needs to feel you. To taste you. Devour you. He needs you.
A break for air is the only thing that throws him back into semi-consciousness as you pull away. The heat built up between you makes him dazed. Hot breaths fill the small space between your lips as you lean your forehead against his.
“Mando?”
“Yes,” he responds in a raspy whisper. A few moments pass as you collect your words and catch your breath.
“Is this really just about curiosity…?”
Your words lean more towards a statement than a question. There’s no point in denying it now. As much as he tried to convince himself or rationalize his strange request, he does feel a pull towards you. Much more complicated than just attraction. The more he sees you, learns about you, and talks with you, the more… inevitable you feel to him. There’s a gravity to you that he can’t escape from. Nor does he want to.
“Yes and no.”
“What does that mean?” The breath of your question brushes the heated skin of his cheek. And right now, he can't think of any answer that wouldn't give him up.
So he lets it fly.
“It’s not just the kiss I’m curious about.”
The silence in the air is thick. The only thing between you are the sounds of both of you catching your breath. It’s possible he might have ruined everything with that one sentence. But it’s the truth. It had nothing to do with the kiss and everything to do with you. Your kindness, your banter, your hospitality. All of it.
There’s no way of telling what you’re thinking at the right now. It’s in this moment that he wishes the lights weren’t out so he can at least read your expression. But then after what seems like an eternity, your forehead nudges against his and you blow a deep sigh of relief. Arms still draped over his shoulders.
“Oh good… I thought it was only me,” you confess with a skittish laugh.
And that tightly pulled restraint finally snaps inside him when he hears that.
Without any hesitation, he dives back in. Kissing you like a man starved. Just like that night, he feels drunk. Only this time it’s on the taste of you and the feeling of your hands finally on him. It’s that thought that drives him to rip off his leather gloves and toss them aside without breaking contact once. His bare hands find your waist and the strip of bare skin between your shirt and linen pants.
“Is this what you meant,” you pant. “When you told me not to invite you in again.”
“Yeah... it is.” He pants the confession as his mouth trails down the line of your jaw and finding your neck in the dark.
“That’s a relief,” you chuckle. “I was worried I offended you.”
“The only thing that’s offensive is that I can’t see that pretty pink flush on your face right now.”
“Should I get a blindfold,” you tease.
What a fucking woman. The mental image of you in a blindfold, only a blindfold, pours fuel on an already blazing fire. But for now, he’s more than ok feeling his way around tonight.
“Next time.”
It comes out of his mouth confidently and without hesitation. Because you both know there will be a next time. He’s bitten into the forbidden fruit and now he’s addicted to the taste.
With a simple shift, his hands dip beneath the thin fabric of your shirt and find the delicious heat of your soft belly.
"Lay down for me."
With your arms draped over his shoulders, you eagerly comply. Slowly dragging him down with you. He careful not to press all his weight on you—being crushed by beskar would definitely kill the mood—but it doesn't stop you from pulling tighter. Craving connection. All while Din rains wet kisses and soft bites upon your pulse.
So this is what your skin tastes like. Slightly salty, sweet, and smooth between his teeth. He might eat you whole if he’s not careful. He nips at the skin of your exposed collar bone and you writhe. Arching to press your chest to his. So he decides to give it some attention.
“Take it off," you pant with an neediness that drives him pull the damn shirt off in one swift motion.
His bare hand crawls up your sternum. Exploring the valley of soft skin free of any restricting fabric. The moment his fingers find the stiff peak of your bare breast he pinches eagerly. Earning the sweetest little whimpers from you as his mouth works on the other nipple. Biting and sucking the soft point. He can’t see a thing in the dark, but what’s lacking in sight is made up by sound with the delicious breathy moans you let out for him.
“Mando…”
Fuck, does he love the way you call out for him. Every touch, kiss, and suck he gives elicites the most gorgeous sounds out of that perfect mouth. The sounds to straight to his cock, now painfully stiff. It's tempting to just dive into you right now. But he's waited this long. So why not take his sweet time with you. With his face still burried between your breasts and you fingers raking through his hair, Din feels a press of your hips against his armor. And he needs more.
“Shop Girl…”
The nickname doesn’t catch your attention. You’re either too lost in the moment or too breathless to answer. It’s only when he uses your given name that your body perks up and you give him a raspy “yeah?”.
“Do you want this," he asks.
His right hand has found its way to the waist band of your work pants. Ready and waiting for your answer. You try to grind against his hips but he presses your hips down firmly. He knows damn well neither of you want to stop. But he needs to hear it. There's no going back after this.
"Is this ok?"
He doesn't know if you're unsure. Or if maybe your trying to meet his eyes through the darkness. But there's a long pause. Only the sounds of heavy breaths and the pulse beating hard in his ears. And every second that passes has him hanging on the edge of madness.
"Yes...," you finally breathe. "I need you."
She needs me.
The words leave him winded. Months of questions and pining suddenly feel well worth the wait just to hear those words. They not only affirm going further, but the bond that's been steadily growing between you. Not a single ounce of hesitation survives after he hears that. And with one hand, Din loosens the tie of your pants and dives in beneath the fabric of your underwear.
By feel alone, Din manages to pull your pants down to your thighs and you kick them off your feet. His hands roam over all the smooth exposed skin and he can only imagine how perfect you must look if you feel this good. The tips of his fingers finds the dampness between your legs, running along the seam, and he slowly pushes inside until his knuckles meet your entrance.
You release a soft gasp and he swallows it with a deep kiss. You both sigh into each other's mouth. As if you need the other to even breathe. Din's lips never leaves yours as he does an experimental curl against the fleshy part of your walls and you arch your body against his.
“This where you need me," he huffs against your lips. "Right here?”
“Right there... Perfect..."
"I wanna taste you." The confession comes out before he can even think about it.
"Then taste me, Mando."
He can hear the smile in your voice. The taunt. And he's more than happy to reciprocate it.
He rises above you and you whine from the lack of contact. But the loss doesn't last long. Because before you even can register what he's doing, his head has already lowered between your legs.
"What are you- ah."
That gasp you let out when his mouth envelops your pussy is downright tortured. Good too know you were just as desperate as he was.
"Fuck! I thought you meant... You were gonna... Shit..."
No fucking way would he be satisfied tasting you on just his fingers. The sweet tangy flavor explodes over his tongue and he groans. Fucking hell, you taste good. He doesn’t even know what the hell he’s doing but that’s sure as shit not stopping him. He drowns in you. Lapping and sucking on your swollen little bud and loving the way it makes you cry out. Two thick fingers pump into your wet heat as you melt in his mouth. Such a fucking treat.
You writhe beneath him. Squirming and clawing at anything to hold on to as he works you up. Eventually your hands finds his hair again. Taking a fistful and pressing his face further against your cunt. The sting on his scalp makes his cock twitch in his flight suit and he groans.
“You want me to make you come, Shop Girl," he mumbles against you.
“Yes.”
“Say it.”
“Make me come, Mando... Please…”
He doesn't break pace, doesn't falter, doesn't change a damn thing what he's doing because he can feel close to the edge you are. You tighten around his digits as the pump in and out. And with a firm suck on your clit you let out a strangled gasp.
"Oh Fuck! Fuck! Mando!"
Your breathing becomes short and shallow. Panting so hard right before holding your breath and tipping over the edge with a strangled cry. You come long and hard. Trembling so much he has to hold you steady by the hips.
Through the waves of your climax, Din continues to eat you. Lapping at your perfect pussy like it's wine and he doesn't waste a single drop of you. Even sucking and licking his fingers clean as you lay breathless before him. They come out of his mouth with a wet pop and he can’t help but let out a small breathy laugh.
“I’ve always wanted to try that…” he confesses.
You let out your own exhausted little laugh and he can already tell he wants more. More laughter, more of those pretty sounds, more of you.
It's with that in mind that Din starts pulling his cape off.
Piece by peace, he silently removes his armor. And after a few moments, a second pair of hands joins in. You fumble in the dark with his chest piece first. Helping him out of his armor one section at a time. They fall to the carpet with a soft thud along with the crumbling pieces of the restraint he’s built since that first night.
There’s no signs of stopping. You keep giving him more. More heat. More yearning. More questions.
What makes you laugh? What gives you pleasure? What makes you feel good and whole and satisfied? He needs to know.
And now that he’s gotten a taste, there’s no way he’s leaving here tonight until you’ve both had your fill.
•
If this is what happens when you invite the Mandalorian into your home, let your door never close.
Getting to your bed was easier than you thought it’d be in pitch black darkness. The only thing keeping your ‘bedroom’ separate from the rest of the home is a wooden lattice divider from the ceiling to the floor.
He lays you down on the soft futon on the floor and you open for him like a flower. Two strong palms drag and paw all over your body as his mouth works magic on yours and it makes you dizzy with desire.
Maker, he’s so good with his hands.
His body separates from you only to remove his flight suit and you whine at the loss of contact. Naked and panting for him. Within seconds he’s back on top of you and the feeling of his bare skin against yours makes your head spin. With everything so dark you wonder if this is even real. Maybe this is all a fever dream.
“Are you gonna show me how Mandalorians fuck this time,” you tease against his lips. Calling back to when he showed you how they drink. With your bare legs around his hips, you tease his resolve by running your inner thighs over his sides and you’re rewarded with a low hum. The hand supporting your neck slowly drags forward to find the base of your throat.
“You don’t need to know how Mandalorians fuck.” His wide grip gently squeezes the sides of your throat, just enough for you to feel the power in those hands. “Just how I fuck.”
Holy shit. You thought him gripping your jaw was hot. But this? This might’ve awakened something you didn’t even knew you wanted.
A whimper escapes you only to be muted by his mouth again. His tongue swirls with yours with a hunger you’ve never knew was there these past months and it’s such a relief to know that you weren’t the only one pining.
Mando’s mouth travels to your cheek, then jaw, finally finding purchase on your neck. Biting and sucking as his body presses into yours. He’s insatiable right now. There's no doubt that you'll find yourself covered in marks when the lights come back on.
You’re so lost in the moment that you almost don’t notice when something hard and warm presses against your inner thigh. Out of nowhere, a thought you haven’t even considered before decides to pop into your head at the very last minute.
“H-hold on!”
Your hands find his shoulders, urging him to pause. His lips unlatch themselves from your neck the second you blurt it out. Instantly propping himself above you with his hands on either side of your head.
“You want me to stop?,” he pants.
“No… Hell no. It’s just…”
How do you even begin to ask this?
“Um… I know I probably should’ve asked earlier but… you’re human, right?”
Mando blows out a low chuckle, understanding your underlying meaning. He feels human, from what your hands can tell anyway. He could be like his kid for all you know. It’s not that you’re not willing to go Inter-species, but your experience is mainly human. Plus with the lights off it’d be pretty difficult to figure out fitting things.
Taking your hand from his shoulder, he presses it against his chest where you can feel a dusting of hair. His skin is hot, damp with a thin layer of sweat and his breathing is heavy. He continues to lead your hand further down his torso so you can feel every hill and valley of his muscles. Eventually your hand hits a trail of hair down the middle and then…
Oh shit.
His hand guides you along the length of his cock. Encouraging you to explore every ridge from the thick base all the way up to the damp tip. He’s stiff and hot in your palm. When you give him a firm squeeze he groans and twitches in your grip.
Oh shit.
“Does that answer your question?”
The human part, definitely. Fitting is still debatable.
He lets you handle him. Giving you free rein to tug and tease as he bucks into your hand. He groans with pleasure and the power trip you feel knowing exactly how you affect this fiercely disciplined man makes the pulse between your legs throb harder. After a minute, his hand snatches yours to a halt, making your grip around his cock tighter.
“Show me where you want it,” he demands in a gruff breath. And you do just that. Pressing the damp tip against your clit. The contact sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine.
“Inside,” you plead. “I need you inside me.”
With an impatient huff, his hand comes down to take hold of your leg behind the bend of your knee. Spreading you wide and teasing your entrance before pushing himself inside. You gasp at the initial stretch, digging your nails into his shoulders. Mando curses under his breath and as he pushes you worry for a moment if there’s an end to him.
It’s slow, deliberate. Feeding his cock into your tight cunt until he’s pressing the limits of your walls. You shudder together when he’s completely sheathed and his hands grip your hips so hard his fingers dig into your flesh.
“Mando…” You throw your head back. Arching your whole body, waiting it to adjust to him. “Fuck!”
“I knew it,” he pants. “Fucking knew you’d feel good…”
He splits you in half and before you’re even ready the first hard thrust hits you. You whimper from impact and he thrusts again. Pinning you down by your hips to keep you at the perfect angle. Soon he sets a steady pace as he fucks you into delirium. It’s too much, he’s too much. Yet you moan and whine for more like each thrust might be the last. He feels incredible and you can only claw at his trim waist as it moves for you.
“That’s it… Good girl… Taking me so well… I wanted this… I want you to know every part of me.”
His words plunge into your chest like a dagger. Laced with a meaning that goes far beyond sex. Because you feel it too. You wanted him to be closer. You wanted him to know your name, know you. Even if it took this long to get here.
You feel one hand find your leg. Hiking it up so the back of your thigh lays flat against his chest. His hand drags up and down, caressing the soft flesh without losing a beat with his thrusts. A kiss presses on your calf and your head feels like it’s spinning. One moment he’s rearranging your insides and the next he’s giving your body sweet affection.
Tension builds in your core. Growing tighter and tighter with each hard thrust. Usually the second orgasm is more elusive to chase on your own. But this man is about to push you right into the next one not five minutes after the first one.
“Don’t… Stop…,” you pant. “Don’t stop, I’m so close, Mando…”
“Come for me... Let me feel you."
Then it comes. Tensing your entire body before coming down like a crashing wave. It’s spreads through every inch of your body, making you pulse and shake beneath his frame. You cry out in the midst of the euphoria, clinging to his shoulders, and everything feels so right. He moans along with you, feeling every tight pulse around his cock and letting you ride out the remaining waves.
“That’s two now, Shop Girl. You gonna give me a third?”
You let out a breathy laugh, still coming down from the clouds.
"I... I'm not sure I can," you chuckle.
"Yeah, you will," he pants. Amusement lacing his raspy voice.
Without out warning, Mando takes both your legs. Placing your calves over his shoulders as his leans forward. Folding you in half. And with one hard thrust, his cock drives back into you at a deeper angle. Your back bows and you swear you see stars in the blackness of the room. His lips land on the corner of your mouth and kiss their way to your lips. Offering a soft apology after the roughness. His strong arms are propped around you and you feel eclipsed under his broad body.
Soon his rhythm picks up. Becoming more desperate as he chases his own release. The room fills with the sound of your bodies meeting and you don't think you've ever heard anything more perfect. His panting picks up, his moans become louder, and the quivering breaths he makes when he finds a particularly deep spot will no doubt live in your mind rent free forever.
“You wanted me bare, didn’t you,” he huffs, pressing his damp forehead to yours.. “When you offered me that tea? You thought about me coming inside this perfect cunt, didn’t you.”
Caught red handed. Sure, you wanted to know if he had a partner as well. But the thought did cross your mind when he cornered you against the counter. You wanted to know how he felt bare, with nothing between you. Even dreamt a few times about it.
“Yes… Fuck, yes! Please! I want it!”
“You gonna come with me, Shop Girl? Hmm?”
“Maker, Mando! I’m right fucking there, please! I… I’m… ah-“
His firm hand grips your jaw. Whipping your face back to him so he can cover your mouth his. He kisses you deep, open and messy. No technique, just raw desire as he eats you alive. You moan and whimper against his mouth with each debilitating thrust he makes. He drives into you faster, harder. Relentlessly pushing you closer to the edge.
When it arrives, the orgasm hits you at full force. Wracking your whole body in convulsions as you scream, actually scream against his mouth. Your toes curl, your nails dig into his back and your cunt squeezes on to him for dear life like he’s never allowed to leave again.
Mando hisses through his teeth and he's right there with you. Ramming into you with relentless force as he chases his own release. His face dives into the crook of your shoulder and his arms scramble to take hold of you and he loses control. Letting out a sharp groan as he comes.
“Fuck.. Fuck,” he shudders in your ear. “Agh!”
His hips jerk against your body, driving himself as deep as you can take him. You feel his cock throb as he pumps into you again and again. Filling you to the point of spilling out and it’s... everything. Connected in such a profound way you’ve never felt before. In this moment, it’s hard to tell your bodies apart. You’ve melted and mixed and you never want to separate.
You ride it together, mold together, lose control together because you both knew it’d come to this. In the end this was inevitable. And in a galaxy filled with unknowns, in this you can be certain. A connection like this is few and far between. It’s real and raw and rare. Resisting that feeling was never an option, so why try?
Even in the climb down he doesn’t stop. Those hard demanding thrusts slow to a gentle drags as if he doesn’t want to finish yet. Hands glide all over each other’s bodies, soothing the other. All along his tense shoulders, you pepper soft kisses to his skin. Easing you both down from the clouds. He hums in the decent and it lulls you into an exhausted bliss.
Everything feels hazy and soft. You’re not sure how long you stay melted together like this. Minutes? Hours? But it’s needed. After a while, the breathing becomes steady and a soft, drowsy satisfaction settles between you.
“That’s the first time someone's come inside me,” you quietly confess. For a moment, Mando absorbs what you just said. Then you feel him prop himself in his elbows above you.
“Really?”
“Yeah…,” you breathe. Running your hands up the sides of his neck and resting them on his stubbled face.
“You know… since we’re sharing firsts tonight.”
He smiles and this time you’re able to know for certain by the feel of it in your hands. Leaning down, his forehead finds yours in the dark and you don’t think you’ve ever felt so whole before.
“I’m your first, huh,” he breathes. “I like that.”
There’s so many layers to this man. Quiet and withdrawn. Rough and demanding. Soft and caring. Each one is a trait you’ve come to cherish. You’re not sure if you love this man. But you’re definitely starting to fall for him. You can explore that treasure box later though. For now, you’ll take tonight for tonight and let whatever comes next between you arrive in its own good time.
“Me too, Mando...”
•
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Din Djarin x f!reader | 11.4k | 18+ | main masterlist | ao3
summary: After your first few weeks as Nevarro's new schoolteacher, there was only one student's parent that you hadn't yet met. When you decided to send Grogu's dad a message, though, you never would have expected where it led.
a/n: Din's back! This is my fic for @penvisions' give a little love challenge. My prompt was mistaken identity. 👀 Once I figured out where I wanted to take that, this was pretty fun to write! Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta and helping me whip this one into shape. Also, I did attempt to research how messaging would work in Star Wars, got conflicting results, and then gave up and decided I can do what I want. So consider this almost canon-aligned as far as messaging goes. lol
tags/warnings: epistolary, fluff, space texting, reader is an elementary-ish teacher with no physical description, a lot of school-talk, elementary school student shenanigans, flirting, teasing, pet names (cyar'ika/sweetheart, mesh'la/beautiful), mistaken identity, misunderstandings, Star Wars cursing (kriff, kark, dank farrik), a bit of ogling, smut (kissing, fondling, grinding, fingering (f!receiving), p-in-v sex, creampie)
...
You haven’t been on Nevarro long, but you’ve learned a lot about your new students already. When Karga recruited you, all the way from the Mid Rim, he’d told you it was a small but growing city with a small but growing school. They finally had enough students to need to split them up into multiple classrooms, and that was where you came in. You’d taken the job because you liked the idea of helping to build something, and because you were ready for something new.
You were taking over the room with younger children, which was your preference. And so far they’d been wonderful to work with – they were all so excited by new things, so happy to learn. Each day was a joy as you watched them grow.
As you got to know the kids, you also got to know the parents. Teaching the youngest children made you more well-known around town, and it had been easier to settle in than you expected. There was Diima, who was learning how to braid her own hair and had been teaching some of the other kids – her moms had invited you over for dinner and you thought you might end up being friends. Oora, the young Twi’lek who loved spaceships of all kinds – his father ran the food stall in the market that always had the best fruit. And Tamar and Ilana, the twins, who very intentionally never dressed alike – their parents ran the med clinic.
And then there was Grogu, your smallest student. You’d never met his dad, though you knew of him from Karga and Cara. But so far you’d only learned that Grogu missed him and that he was off planet a lot. He was never there to pick up Grogu, at least not in the few weeks you’d been on Nevarro so far. It was always Cara or IG-11, or a few times even Karga himself.
As you waved goodbye to the last of the kids for the day – Kiran, a young Mirialan whose mother was a mechanic at the shipyard – you collapsed into your desk chair with a sigh. Cara had come by to pick up Grogu again, but you’d been hoping to finally meet his elusive father. The kids would have a show at the end of the term to sing some songs and show off what they’d been learning. So far you’d been able to invite all of the parents personally when they came to pick the kids up. You sighed again and tapped your data pad – you’d just have to send him a message.
You’d sent him a message only once before, when you first started, just to introduce yourself. You hadn’t gotten a message back.
You stared down at the pad for a moment, biting your lip. Just be straightforward, to the point. You nodded and scrolled down to the contact for Grogu-parent. You saved all of your students’ parents’ contact info that way, though you added their names to the end if you knew them.
you:
Hello! This is Grogu’s teacher, I sent you a message a couple of weeks ago when I started. I just wanted to invite you to our end of term show and to let you know that his schedule will be changing a bit, as we’ll be adding a rehearsal once a week. His class will be singing some songs and showing off what they have learned this term. They’re all very excited about it!
You sent another message with the date and time of the show and wondered how you should sign off.
you:
I will also let Cara and IG know. Please let me know if you have any questions and if you’ll be able to attend. Thank you!
Once the message was sent, you leaned back in your chair, hoping you’d hear back from him this time.
You were startled when your pad chimed before you’d even settled into your chair.
Grogu-parent:
Hello. Thank you. I will be there.
You grinned. A response! And so quickly! You needed to say something back, to make it clear this was a way he could get in contact with you if needed.
you:
Great! I know that will make Grogu very happy. He has really enjoyed learning to follow along to the notes of the songs and he is becoming a very enthusiastic assistant on the drums.
There was a pause, and you wondered if you had said too much, or if he’d gone quiet again. But then your pad chimed.
Grogu-parent:
Something he can hit that makes noise? Sounds perfect for him.
You laughed. If someone had told you that morning that you’d actually talk to Grogu’s elusive dad and that he would make you laugh, you weren’t sure you’d have believed them.
Grogu-parent:
Thank you for telling me. I know I miss a lot when I’m off planet.
Suddenly, you realized you hadn’t thought of it that way and wanted to kick yourself. Of course his dad would be sad to miss hearing about what Grogu did in school, and all the little ways he was growing and learning. Your heart squeezed in sympathy.
you:
Would you like me to send you more updates? I would be happy to do it. I usually share them with parents at the end of the day. I’m sorry I didn’t think to send them to you this way instead.
Grogu-parent:
That’s alright. I know I never replied to your message, I didn’t get it until days later. Yes, please send me updates. I might not be able to reply right away but I will be happy to get them.
You tilted your head as you read his message, wondering what sort of work he was doing.
you:
Oh that’s fine! I’ll start sending you updates, but no pressure to respond to them. I understand you must be busy.
Grogu-parent:
I’ll respond when I can. Thank you again.
You smiled as you set your pad down and stood from your desk. Finally, you thought. You’d made contact with Grogu’s dad! You walked out of the schoolhouse with a spring in your step.
As you made your way to the market to pick up something for dinner, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face. You were happy you’d moved to Nevarro, you realized – you liked the people and the growing feeling of community that you had been welcomed to join almost immediately. There were beings of all kinds in the little city, from all over the galaxy – you’d met a fellow newcomer just the day before, a friend of Cara’s from the resistance who was good with plants. You’d met Carm, a Bothan, who had a knack for fixing droids. You were pretty sure you’d even spotted a Mando, once or twice, and Diima’s mom had told you about the family that had just moved in next door to them and was planning to open a restaurant.
It was a nice place to live. You were happy you’d decided to take the offer.
…
The next day, when Cara picked up Grogu, you let her know that you’d also invited his dad to the show. Grogu chirped and smiled at you, and you smiled back.
“That’s right, bud, your dad is coming!”
Cara grinned. “See? I told you he would, squirt.” Grogu made a noise like a cheer and waved his little arms and you both laughed. “See you tomorrow, teach!” Cara tossed Grogu lightly in the air as she turned and he squealed.
You smiled, shaking your head at their antics as you made your way back to your desk. You knew just what you wanted to tell his dad.
you:
Today Grogu kept working really hard on trying to write his name! The Aurebesh characters are still new and tricky for them, but he honestly does pretty well when we can draw them in the sand with his claws. He also shared his snack with his friend Oora, which was sweet.
You didn’t get an answer right away, and you tried not to be disappointed. It had been nice to talk to him the day before, but you knew he was busy with work, whatever work he did. You packed up your bag and hefted it onto your shoulder.
When your pad chimed, you dropped it unceremoniously back onto your chair.
Grogu-parent:
Are you sure you’re talking about my kid? He’s not usually one to share food.
You laughed, but before you could reply your pad chimed again.
Grogu-parent:
That’s great about his name. I know he knows so much, even though he seems so little.
You nodded as you typed your response.
you:
He does! I can tell. Sometimes he gets a little bit frustrated when he can’t communicate the way he wants. But the kids are all great with each other and they really listen to him, even without words.
Grogu-parent:
I’m glad to hear it. I worried he would be too little for the class, even though technically he’s older than I am.
You laughed and tucked away that little tidbit of information.
you:
I know he’s technically the oldest, but he’s also not the youngest, in terms of development. They’re a good group and they get along well.
Grogu-parent:
He is an old baby, isn’t he? Thank you. Again.
You laughed and found yourself smiling again as you walked to the market. You wished you knew his name, but it felt awkward at this point to ask. You supposed he’d have to stay “Grogu-parent” in your pad. For now.
…
After that, you fell into a bit of a rhythm.
He wasn’t always able to reply immediately – sometimes you came in to work in the morning to find his response waiting for you, and you didn’t let yourself wait for more than a few minutes at the end of the day.
But he always replied.
You found him easy to talk to, with a clear sense of humor and love for his son that you could feel through the messages. It infused every word he sent you, and it made you smile softly whenever you thought about it. You still felt bad that you hadn’t thought of this arrangement earlier. But you tried to make up for it with more details now.
…
you:
Grogu led the other kids in a game today at recess. It seemed to be a mixture of tag and catch, and I’m not sure if he made it up, but they had fun. And I was proud of him for teaching them without words!
Grogu-parent:
Sounds like the game he learned from a friend’s kid on Sorgan. I’ve seen him play it before, but I’ve never figured out the rules. I’m not convinced they don’t make them up each time they play it.
…
you:
Grogu drew you a picture today! From what I could tell it’s your house, he was very proud of it.
Grogu-parent:
I can’t wait to see it. He has a collection growing at home on the walls of his room.
…
you:
Today we learned about hyperspace, and Grogu got really excited when I showed some footage of what it looks like to travel in hyperspace from the cockpit. He’s not the only kid who’s been in space, of course, and they all had a lot of fun sharing about their experiences. He drew us a picture of what I think is your ship, and the other kids loved it.
Grogu-parent:
He does love hyperspace. I think it’s the colors. That kid loves to fly, even to go upside down. Never seen someone treat an evasive maneuver like a thrill ride like that.
you:
Evasive maneuvers, huh? Sounds intense!
Grogu-parent:
It’s been a while, but when he first came to me we had to run from some people who were looking for him. And me. Took us around the galaxy for a bit.
You remembered the school’s security measures that Karga and Cara had told you about and furrowed your brow.
you:
Is everything ok now? Is he in any danger? Are you?
Grogu-parent:
We took care of it. But that’s why we have the alerts in place at the school. Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.
you:
I’m not worried about me! But Grogu and the rest of the kids! I can’t believe anyone would want to hurt them.
You could believe it, though. You just didn’t want to.
you:
I mean, I know the Galaxy can be like that. I just wish it wasn’t.
Grogu-parent:
I know what you mean. I wish that, too.
You didn’t realize until later while you were eating dinner that he’d never answered your question about his own safety, and it made you worry. You didn’t even know what his job was, you realized, and felt the worry settle in your chest.
…
you:
Grogu made you another picture but this time he refused to use any color except blue. I’m not sure what it is, but he was very insistent about it! Cara took it home for you.
Grogu-parent:
I’m not surprised, he loves blue things. I can’t wait to see it.
…
you:
Today Oora gave a demonstration of a traditional dance he learned from his family, and surprised us all – apparently Grogu had been helping him practice and knew the dance, too! It was very sweet of him to dance with Oora when he got nervous.
Grogu-parent:
He does love music, and he really loves helping his friends. He feels everything so strongly.
Grogu-parent:
I’ll tell him, too, but if you remember tomorrow, please tell him I’m proud of him.
…
For once, you had evening plans.
You hurried home at the end of the week to drop your bag and then to meet Cara and Diima’s moms at the cantina. When they’d invited you, you’d internally done a victory dance – you’d made friends!! – but externally, you’d kept your cool. Mostly.
Cara was the only one there when you arrived, and you settled in beside her in the booth.
“Teach!” She greeted you with a grin. “Whatcha drinkin’? How are the kids?”
You gave her your order and soon you had a drink, too. You filled her in on what your charges had been up to that week, getting a few laughs at their antics. “What about you, constable? Anything new?”
“Well, we were going to take care of a reptavian problem over towards the east end of the lava flats, but Mando had to go off planet again. We’ll wait for him to get back, could use his firepower.”
You tilted your head. You figured she was talking about the shiny Mando you’d seen around the market sometimes. “Who–”
But before you could ask, Neela and Aminet arrived, and by the end of the night you forgot you’d even had a question at all.
…
you:
Grogu got excited when we learned about banthas and blurrgs today! We’re focusing on the letter Besh if you couldn’t tell. Then he drew a blurrg, it was honestly a pretty great likeness.
Grogu-parent:
He’s met a few before, so he knows them pretty well.
you:
Wow! When did Grogu meet a blurrg?
Grogu-parent:
When I first met him, we had a friend who kept them. He’s even ridden one before.
you:
You know, his picture from today makes a lot more sense now. He drew a little Grogu on top of the blurrg.
Grogu-parent:
He really likes blurrgs. They seem to like him too, which is good. Otherwise I’d be afraid they were going to eat him.
you:
That IS good because they definitely would.
…
At some point, your messages with Grogu’s dad became less focused on Grogu. You still always made sure to send an update, of course, but you were starting to get to know him, too.
You were trying not to look too hard at how that was making you feel.
You’ve never even seen this man.
You were starting to realize that that might not matter to you.
…
you:
Today we went on a little field trip to the market and Grogu was very well behaved!
Grogu-parent:
Are you sure you’re talking about my kid? He didn’t try to eat every blue treat in sight?
you:
Well, no, he did do that. But then we stopped and talked to the man who makes those blue cookies he likes – his name is Tam – and he showed Grogu how carefully he has to make each one. The way Grogu held the one Tam gave him made me think he was in awe. Anyway after that he was very well-behaved
Grogu-parent:
He does love to learn new things. I bet he loved watching the cookies get made.
you:
He really did! And me, too. I had no idea they were so finicky
Grogu-parent:
Not a baker?
you:
I can make bread ok, I guess. Tam’s got real skill.
Grogu-parent:
I can only make a few dishes but I’m trying to learn more for Grogu.
you:
I bet he loves that! Is it hard to cook on your ship?
Grogu-parent:
I don’t really, no space for it. I mostly rely on rations or quick things until I’m home.
you:
Ok that sounds not so great, so PLEASE promise me you’ll try the new restaurant when you get back. It’s really good and you’ll deserve it after all those rations!
Grogu-parent:
I will.
You tamped down the part of yourself that wondered if you could bring some long-lasting food that Grogu could give to his dad for his next trip. That was probably too much for a person you’d never even met. Right?
…
you:
The kids have been taking turns telling stories about their families, and Grogu told us one in pictures today. It seemed to involve a lot of snow and spiders? Ice spiders? Are those real?
Grogu-parent:
Of course he picked that story.
Grogu-parent:
Yes, it was when we were on the run, like I told you before. My ship was damaged and we had to do an emergency landing on an ice planet.
Grogu-parent:
The local fauna did not appreciate Grogu’s approach to exploring the area and chased us back to the ship.
you:
Holy kriff! We’re they actually as big as a house, or was that his creative license taking over the drawing?
Grogu-parent:
Most of them were small. One of them wasn’t.
you:
That sounds absolutely terrifying
you:
I’m so glad you’re both ok!! How did you get away?
Grogu-parent:
A couple of the New Republic guys from Adelphi had followed us and helped out. But we had to limp over to Trask to get the ship fixed.
you:
You know, that is basically what Grogu drew for us, I think I just couldn’t believe it was all true.
you:
Ok my mind is totally blown. Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot?
Grogu-parent:
More than I would like, yes.
…
you:
Grogu did really well with addition today! We’re learning about adding and subtracting with piles of tokens. He even helped his friend Kiran with a tricky one!
Grogu-parent:
He’s so smart, I’m glad he’s getting to show it.
you:
He really is! And he loves to learn.
Grogu-parent:
I’m glad he’s so good at making friends. I was worried about him. I don’t set the best example.
you:
What do you mean? You have so many friends
Grogu-parent:
I can’t tell if you’re joking.
you:
Not joking! There’s Cara, and Karga, and IG.
Grogu-parent:
3? Is that a lot? I don’t think I’m very good at being friendly.
You hesitated, but it did feel right to call him a friend, at this point.
you:
Well, you’ve also mentioned knowing people on at least two other planets. And you’re friendly with me! That is, if you don’t mind being friends with someone who sometimes forgets to switch out of “talking to kids” voice when talking to adults. And who is usually partially covered in arts and crafts.
Grogu-parent:
I don’t mind. I’d like to be your friend.
You grinned and did not do a little victory dance. Definitely not.
you:
me too!
That one had made you float home.
…
you:
Wait, you really calculate all your jumps yourself?
you:
That’s so impressive! Does it take a long time?
Grogu-parent:
It did when I first started, but I’ve done it so many times it’s not so bad now.
you:
Grogu must get his math skills from you.
Grogu-parent:
So much happened in his life before I found him. Most of the time I feel like I’m learning things from him, and not the other way around.
You felt a little squeeze around your heart at the thought of Grogu without this man, without his dad. You were glad they’d found each other.
you:
That’s adorable, but you should know he shows us things that you taught him all the time.
Grogu-parent:
Uh oh. Like what?
you:
Today he showed us how to tie a cape around your neck so it will stay on. It made me wonder – do you wear a cape?
There was a pause that made you wonder if you shouldn’t have asked. Your message screen moved up as if a new message was about to come in, but then nothing did for another minute.
Grogu-parent:
I do. Sometimes.
You laughed, a bit wonderingly. Who is this man?
…
you:
Today some of the students shared stories or keepsakes from their homeworld or families – this isn’t a mandatory activity, since I know it can be complicated for some. Grogu drew us a picture of IG-11, I think. But he got really excited when Tamar mentioned that the twins have family on Tatooine, of all places.
Grogu-parent:
He’s been there, so that was probably it. I guess I do have another friend there, too. Maybe two.
you:
Ok, I’m starting to think you really undersold your ability to make friends
Grogu-parent:
I wasn’t lying when I said I’m not good at being friendly.
you:
You’re friendly with me! And how else did you get all these friends, then?
Grogu-parent:
I ask myself that all the time.
Grogu-parent:
But it’s easy to be friendly with you.
You blinked and felt your face heat up, suddenly glad you were alone in your classroom.
…
you:
Today in rehearsal Grogu showed us that he memorized his part for the show! It was very cute, I’m sure he’ll do it at home for you.
Grogu-parent:
Oh I’ve seen it. He’s been working hard on it.
you:
Of course he has! I could tell
Grogu-parent:
I’ll be on planet next week, maybe I could watch a rehearsal? If that’s alright. I don’t want to be in the way.
You grinned at your pad, but you also felt suddenly nervous. Were you ready to actually meet him? You didn’t even know his name.
you:
Of course! No, you won’t be in the way, we have plenty of space. It will be so nice to finally meet you!
Grogu-parent:
Ok, good. Yes, it will be.
…
On the day of the rehearsal you walked into the schoolhouse buzzing with nerves and excitement.
You were going to meet him. Grogu’s dad, whose name you still didn’t know, somehow, but whose kind, funny, possibly-edging-towards-flirty messages were starting to take over your thoughts. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you couldn’t help it.
You were going to meet him.
You managed to tamp down your excitement as your class arrived and took up all of your attention, but it never quite left your mind. By the time rehearsal rolled around after lunch, the nerves were back.
With 10 minutes to go, you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the door what felt like every 5 seconds. Diima’s mom Aminet arrived, and then the twins’ parents. You knew Kiran’s mom was going to try to get away from the shipyard, too.
The door opened again, and you turned to see her slipping inside and smiled. When you looked past her, you were startled to see the Mandalorian you’d seen around town standing in the street, about 15 feet from the school and framed by the door to your classroom.
He was tall, with very shiny armor and very broad shoulders. He was also covered in a slightly intimidating amount of weaponry, though you knew he was Cara’s friend and so you weren’t actually that scared. For a moment you simply stared at him, and even though his face was covered, you had a feeling he was staring back.
Curious, you took a step towards the open doorway, but that seemed to shock him into action. He took a corresponding step back, looked around, and then turned and walked away.
You poked your head out of the door and watched as he turned a corner, heading towards the market.
Weird.
You heard the kids start to make more noise behind you and turned, realizing it was time to begin.
…
Grogu’s dad never did show, but you tried not to let it get you down. At least, not until after the kids had left.
When Cara came to pick up Grogu, she smiled ruefully and shrugged. “I know, he was supposed to come. Sent me a message asking me to swing by, something came up.”
You sighed and shrugged back. “That’s alright. I know he’s busy.”
Your pad stayed stubbornly silent, and you left it at the school to discourage yourself from obsessively checking it all night long.
What happened?
…
Yawning, you dropped into your desk chair the next morning with a sigh. You hadn’t slept well, too worked up over what had – and hadn’t – happened the day before.
But your heart leapt into your throat when you saw you had a message waiting.
Grogu-parent:
I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it. I had to go off planet again, and it was pretty last minute.
Grogu-parent:
I already apologized to Grogu but I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet. I was looking forward to it.
From the timestamps you could see that he’d sent the messages while you were at home, trying to sleep. You bit your lip, wondering what to say back. It helped that he apologized but you still felt disappointed.
you:
That’s ok. I know you’re busy! I would have liked to meet. Maybe next time?
Grogu-parent:
I shouldn’t be too busy for this. Next time, yes.
you:
Deal. I’m counting on you, friend
There was a long pause that made you bite your lip. Was that too much? You started to put the pad down, sighing.
But then another message appeared.
Grogu-parent:
Since we’re friends, you should call me Din.
You froze. Din?
His name.
You started to grin.
you:
I see you, trying to make me forget about missing you yesterday by telling me your name today!
As soon as you send the message you hesitate, wondering if that was too much. But he told me his name! This has to be flirting. We’re flirting. Right?
Grogu-parent:
Missing me?
Kark. Of course he noticed that. Before you could even feel the heat reach your face he sent another message.
Grogu-parent:
I really wanted to be there.
you:
I’m just teasing you, Din. Thank you for telling me
You grinned and changed his contact name.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I missed meeting you, too
…
After Din told you his name, it seemed like your conversations just… flowed. You were opening up to each other in ways you hadn’t quite been able to before and it was making you feel giddy.
On top of that, you were pretty sure he was flirting with you. At least, you hoped so. You couldn’t stop turning the question over in your mind.
It’s not like you could ask anyone. You hadn’t told anyone you were having actual conversations with this man you’d never met – all Cara knew was that you sent him updates.
These weren’t exactly updates.
you:
Anyway, Grogu loved it. Painting with feet is always a popular activity but he was very enthusiastic
Grogu-parent-Din:
That doesn’t surprise me at all. He loves making a mess.
You laughed.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Is this one of those days when you’re covered in arts and crafts?
You blinked. He remembered that? And he was thinking about that? Was he thinking about what you looked like? You hesitated, and then typed your response.
you:
Oh definitely. I’m wearing more paint than clothes at this point.
Kriffing hell. Why did I just say that? You stared down at your pad, incredulous. That had to be too much. You definitely shouldn’t be flirting with a parent like that. And you hadn’t even meant to flirt! You started to type again, to apologize, but he beat you to it.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Sounds like quite a sight.
you:
See, I warned you, being friends with me means being friends with someone who can’t stop kids from covering her in paint.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Never said it would be a bad sight.
You felt a tingle run up your spine. Did he–
Grogu-parent-Din:
You’re not afraid of a mess. Neither am I.
Grogu-parent-Din:
You’re a good teacher.
Kriff, you wished you knew what this man looked like. You said goodbye and stood up to leave, you should not be having thoughts like this in your classroom.
Not afraid of a mess, he’d said.
Kriff.
…
Din kept flirting with you. It had to be flirting, you’d decided. (And you were definitely flirting.) But neither of you had addressed it directly.
You spent your days with the kids, and about half an hour every afternoon flirting with Grogu’s dad. And then the rest of your evening thinking about it.
you:
Grogu drew us a picture of a sort of humanoid-looking figure hanging off the side of a Jawa sandcrawler. It was pretty small in comparison with the sandcrawler, but was that you?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Unfortunately, yes.
you:
How did you end up hanging off the side of a sandcrawler??
Grogu-parent-Din:
The Jawas took apart my ship, stole the parts. I was trying to get them back.
you:
Well I assume you did, since you still have a ship
you:
How did you get them back? Dare I ask?
Grogu-parent-Din:
That’s a long one, but it involved me getting something they wanted from a mudhorn.
you:
A mudhorn?? An actual mudhorn
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’ll tell you the whole story sometime. But yeah, I got the parts back. Got a whole new ship now, though, that one got blown up later.
You realized you were staring down at your pad, mouth dropped open, frozen.
you:
… Din.
you:
Blown up???
Grogu-parent-Din:
You know, when I list it all out like this, it sounds kind of ridiculous.
you:
Kind of?
you:
Does this kind of thing still happen to you?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I won’t lie, sometimes it does. But not nearly as often.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I promise, I’m careful. Much more these days.
you:
You swear?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I do.
you:
Alright.
As you set down your pad, you thought about what you knew about Din. He wore a cape, did evasive maneuvers in his ship, had friends on multiple planets, and sometimes hung off the side of sandcrawlers and fought mudhorns. Someday you’d find out what his job was, and this would all make more sense.
You hoped.
…
At some point after he told you his name, you started taking your pad home.
It made sense, right? It would be rude to cut off the conversation because you had to go home, of all things.
And so like most nights, you found yourself sitting on your bed, smiling down at your pad, talking to Din for what you refused to recognize was over an hour at this point.
Grogu-parent-Din:
You know, I didn’t realize how much calmer my life is now until I started telling you these stories.
you:
I’m just glad your life IS calmer now! Din, sometimes you tell me things and I don’t know how you survived.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Me too. That it’s calmer now, I mean. For Grogu, of course, but I get a lot more sleep these days.
you:
I know you’re busy, but maybe you could stick around for a bit longer next time. Relax a bit? I think you need it
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’m not very good at relaxing.
you:
Maybe you just need someone to show you how it’s done
You were flirting again. You bit your lip.
Grogu-parent-Din:
You volunteering?
You grinned. He was flirting back.
you:
I might be. What do you say?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I say I’d like that.
you:
Yeah?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Yeah, cyar’ika. Show me how to relax.
You let out a noise that you were glad no one was around to hear.
you:
What’s that mean?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’ll tell you when we’re relaxing.
you:
Promise?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Promise.
…
With only a couple of weeks to go before the show, you were starting to feel the pressure, both for the kids and because you were finally going to meet Din.
He would have to come to the show, right? He said he would. You were pretty sure your distraction was noticeable – Cara had almost called you out on it multiple times. She’d taken to squinting at you and smirking knowingly when she caught you checking your pad.
A few nights after the promise to let you show him how to relax – which you couldn’t let yourself dwell on, not if you wanted to get anything done – he told you about his ship getting blown up.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’ve got a new one, of course, but I do miss that ship.
you:
Of course you do! How long did you have it?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Almost 15 years.
Your jaw dropped. He’d lost his home of 15 years?
you:
Din, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.
There was a long pause that made you worry you’d somehow overstepped. You started to type, to backtrack, when his response appeared.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Thank you.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I think people expected me to just get a new ship, but for a while I didn’t want to.
you:
Of course not!
you:
ugh, who said that? Let me talk to them
Grogu-parent-Din:
It’s ok, cyar’ika. No need.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Of course you can make me smile when I’m thinking about this.
You sucked in a sharp breath and tucked yourself into a ball around your pad on your bed. He smiled.
you:
I made you smile?
Grogu-parent-Din:
You always make me smile.
Your own smile felt so big it was taking over your face.
you:
You make me smile too, you know. Even when we’re not talking, you make me smile
Grogu-parent-Din:
Yeah? How do I manage that?
you:
I may or may not think about you, you know… sometimes.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I think about you all the time.
You felt your entire body get hot and tingly and gasped.
you:
Din!
Grogu-parent-Din:
I do. Lately you’re all I want to think about.
you:
Din. Are you flirting with me?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’ve been flirting with you, cyar’ika. Nice of you to finally notice.
You wanted to hide your face, even though you were the only person in your apartment. You settled for kicking your feet like a weirdo.
you:
I hoped you were. I’ve been flirting too, you know
Grogu-parent-Din:
Oh I know.
you:
Din!
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you last time. I wish I had.
you:
Well, the show is next week! so soon! We can actually meet
you:
It’s not your fault you had to work.
There was another long pause, and you furrowed your brow, but it couldn’t quite wipe the smile off your face.
Grogu-parent-Din:
So I might have lied about that.
you:
About what?
You frowned down at the pad.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I didn’t have to go off planet suddenly.
you:
What?? Din what are you talking about
You didn’t like the swooping sensation in your stomach. So then why had he left?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I did come by the school that day, but I couldn’t go in.
you:
Why not??
Grogu-parent-Din:
I saw you, and I know, I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair that I’ve seen you. But I saw you, and you were smiling at someone, and you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, cyar’ika.
Your mouth dropped open. What?
Grogu-parent-Din: I froze. I got tongue-tied, I guess. All of a sudden I just knew, but I wasn’t prepared. And then I ran like a coward. I’m sorry.
You handled your pad in shaking hands, making a few more typos than you usually did.
you:
Din, are you tellign me that you thought I was so beautiful you ran awaY?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Basically, yes. I know, I know, Cara already read me the riot act. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t run next week.
you:
You better not!! I can’t believe you’ve seen me and I’ve never seen you.
He ran away because you were too beautiful? What the kark? This sort of thing did not happen to you.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I promise I will be there next week and I won’t run away.
you:
Good.
you:
No one’s ever thought I was so beautiful they RAN before, you know
Grogu-parent-Din:
That you know of.
you:
You know, that’s a good point
…
By the day of the show, you were a wreck.
You and Din talked every night, and it was wonderful, but it felt like a build up to something that was going to change your life. You didn’t want to put that much pressure on a simple meeting, but you couldn’t stop yourself.
You liked him so, so much.
And on top of that, the kids were excited and nervous and bouncing off the walls. Literally, in some cases. You wanted things to go well for them, and you wanted things to go well for you.
It was a lot.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Can I come by early? Or should I wait until after?
you:
PLEASE come early. I can’t wait through the whole show to meet you, I’ll be too nervous! The kids are going home for a couple of hours after school, and then they have to be back for the show
Grogu-parent-Din:
Cara is taking Grogu with Oora for a final practice together and I said I’d meet her there. So I can come as early as you’d like. You tell me when to be there and I will.
Your hands were shaking again.
you:
How about half an hour before the kids are due back? Gives me time to have emotions but not to get TOO distracted.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Am I going to give you emotions, cyar’ika?
you:
You know you are, Din.
…
Somehow, the kids had been gone for an hour and you’d managed to finish setting everything up in the small auditorium. The little stage was ready and the decorations were perfect.
And now all you had to do was wait for Din.
It was nerve-wracking. You were doing your best not to watch the clock, but with fifteen minutes to go before he was supposed to arrive, you found yourself pacing around your classroom, talking to yourself.
You were debating running to the corner and back just to work out some energy when someone cleared their throat behind you.
You whirled, heart in your throat, and were surprised to find the Mandalorian you’d seen around town standing in the doorway of your classroom.
“Oh! Hello, Mando.” You took a deep breath and resisted the urge to twist your hands together. “Can I help you with something?”
He didn’t answer right away. He looked around the room, and you took a moment to study him. His armor was very shiny, and it fit him very well. He was a very broad man, you realized. And he had fewer weapons on him than the last time you saw him, though of course he still had some.
He took a step inside and his cape swayed behind him.
“You know,” he said, and his voice was deep and warm. You thought he might be smiling, but wondered how you could tell. “I know it’s not realistic, but I really did picture you more covered in paint.”
You froze and felt a tingling sensation flow from your feet to your head, making you suddenly lightheaded. It can’t be.
“...Din?” you breathed, stunned. Your eyes traveled over the length of him again, and then suddenly caught on the cape.
He stepped forward again and then he was right in front of you. You couldn’t stop gaping at him.
“Hi, cyar’ika,” he said, voice deep. He reached out and lightly brushed his fingers against yours.
Your body finally kicked back into gear at his touch and you shoved him lightly in his armored chest. “Din!” You put both of your palms on his chest and marveled at the fact that he was here, in front of you, solidly physical and real. “You’re here!”
He chuckled, and you marveled again at being able to hear him. “I promised I would be.”
You felt yourself start to smile and noticed his helmet dipped. “I can’t believe you’re here.” You ran your hands down his chest and then froze. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just started touching you, I didn’t even ask–” You started to pull your hands away but he caught them and placed your hands back on his chest.
“You can touch me,” he murmured.
“Yeah?” you asked, grinning.
He nodded.
“I may have thought about it… a lot,” you confessed, stepping even closer.
His hands released yours and came to rest on your hips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
For a moment you just grinned at him, a bit stunned.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come in last time,” he said, and he did sound sorry. “I wanted to, I just…”
Now that you had him in front of you, real and solid and a man, it felt suddenly easier to tease him. “But you were overwhelmed by my beauty, huh?”
You gasped when he tugged you closer and squeezed your hips. “I was,” he agreed. “You are so kriffing beautiful, cyar’ika.”
You felt yourself begin to melt, but then remembered. “Wait,” you said, looking up at his visor. “You promised – what does that mean?”
He leaned down and nudged your forehead gently with his helmet.
“Sweetheart.”
…
The kids’ show went off without a hitch. Grogu was overjoyed to have his dad in the audience and played the drums with more enthusiasm than you had ever seen him have in practice. All of the kids did well, and their parents kept telling you how impressed they were as they headed home.
As soon as the area around you cleared, after the show, Din appeared with Grogu in his arms.
“Grogu, you did so well!” You reached your fist out to bump his little one and he cheered. “I’m so proud of you and I know your dad is, too.” You looked up at Din, who nodded.
“I am,” he agreed, “I told him.” He looked down at Grogu. “Right, bud?” Grogu made a little noise that definitely sounded like agreement.
“Are you heading out?” You asked, smiling at Cara when she came to join your group.
Din nodded. “Taking this one home. But, I wanted to ask – are you free tomorrow?”
You grinned. “I am.”
He took a step closer and Grogu made a little bah noise. “I’ll message you. But you have plans.”
You could feel Cara smirking at the two of you but you couldn’t look away from Din. “I do?”
Din leaned a little bit closer. “You do now.”
You said goodnight, but the warmth from finally meeting Din and knowing you had plans later carried you home.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Meet me at the market after lunch?
you:
Yes! What are our plans?
Smiling, you made an update to his contact.
Din:
I’m ready to learn how to relax.
…
You stood by the large tree at the edge of the market, nervous but excited. You’d spent too much time picking out your clothes and now that you were there, you couldn’t stop remembering how it had felt to finally touch him.
“You look beautiful,” a warm voice said from behind you, and you spun around.
“Din!” You grinned. He was very shiny in the midday sun.
He stepped closer and one of his hands came up to cup your upper arm. His gloved thumb moved back and forth across your skin in a light caress. “Hi, cyar’ika.”
You felt your face heat at the endearment, now that you knew what it meant.
“I’m ready to relax,” he said, voice teasing.
You laughed and leaned a bit closer. He was right there, in front of you, and you felt like you were floating. “Alright. I say we walk through the market and stock up on some snacks, and then we’ll try out some aimless relaxation. Preferably on a couch or other soft surface. And maybe we’ll listen to some music.”
Din nodded along to your instructions, turning to follow as you walked towards the market. He slid his hand down your arm and slipped it into yours. “Does your place have a couch?”
You looked at him. “Din, would you like to come back to my place? Do you have time?”
He leaned forward and nudged his helmet against your forehead again. “Cara’s got Grogu. I’m all yours. And yes, I do want to.”
“Great,” you said, smiling, and started to point out your favorite stalls. You collected some fruit and cookies from Tam and some other snacks as you walked.
Din took each item and stored them in a bag as you collected them. “Are these the cookies Grogu learned how to make?”
You nodded. “And he still loves them.”
Din laughed. “Of course he does.”
Once you had a nice assortment, you turned in the direction of your apartment. As you walked, you marveled at how easy, how right it felt, to spend time together in person.
“Is it nice, being back on planet?” you asked.
He nodded once. “Food’s much better,” he said, and you smiled. “So’s the company.”
You turned onto the small street with the door to your apartment. “Flatterer.”
As you stepped up to your door to unlock it, Din stepped up close behind you. So close you could feel the heat of his body. “It’s the truth, cyar’ika.”
You felt a shiver travel up your back as you finally unlocked the door, followed by the tips of his fingers as they followed the shiver. “Well, here it is.” You waved your arm at your apartment and stood to the side to welcome Din inside.
He looked around, and suddenly you felt nervous. Before you could get too worked up, though, he said, “I like it. It’s very warm, like you.”
You blinked. “What do you mean?”
Din stepped closer and nudged your forehead with his helmet again. “You’re easy to talk to, and so warm in all of our conversations. It feels like that.”
You leaned closer. “Does this mean something?” You nudged his helmet.
He hummed. “It’s a Keldabe kiss. It’s how we kiss without removing our helmets.”
“Din!” You exclaimed, leaning back to look at him. “You kissed me when we met yesterday?”
“Couldn’t help it.” He leaned in to do it again and you grinned. “I’ve been wanting to for weeks.”
You reached down and took his hand, tugging him towards the living area. “Come on. We have some relaxing to do.”
To your surprise, rather than joining you on the couch, he started stripping off his armor and placing the pieces carefully on your dining table. He must have noticed your surprise because he explained, “Relaxing, right? This will be more comfortable.”
You watched carefully, taking note of each piece. When he was finished he was just wearing his flight suit and helmet. You couldn’t help but ask, “not the helmet?”
Din seemed to tense for a moment, but then he relaxed. “No. I… my creed. I can’t take it off in front of other living things.”
You tilted your head, considering this information. “Not even Grogu?”
He shook his head. “Grogu is clan, he’s my son. Our clan can see our faces.”
That made sense. “Alright. Want to sit?”
You gestured at the seat next to you and smiled as he sat.
“You don’t…” he trailed off and turned in his seat to look at you head on. “You don’t have more questions?”
You turned sideways and leaned against the back of your couch, propping your chin on your hand. Your knee brushed against his leg. “No, not right now. I mean, I want to know more, but mostly I figure you’ll tell me when you’re ready, right? If it’s stuff I can know.” You reached over and slipped your hand into his and squeezed. “I don’t want to push you, and I like the way we’ve been talking.”
He leaned forward and squeezed your hand. “I like it too.” His voice was suddenly much deeper. “Thank you.”
You smiled. “Are you thanking me for being patient?”
Din nodded. “I am. So what’s the next step in our day of relaxation?”
You gestured at your sound system. “Let me put on something soothing.” You grabbed your data pad from the coffee table and set it up. “There.”
Soft music started to play and you eased back into your seat.
“Do we just sit here?” Din asked, sounding a little baffled.
It made you smile. “Yes, but we can talk. Or you can always lie down, that’s much more relaxing.” You grabbed a pillow and placed it against your thigh. “Want to try it?”
“Here?” He pointed at the couch and you nodded. He hesitated and then took off his boots. He slowly leaned down until he was lying back against the pillow. As soon as his back was flat he groaned. “Ok, maybe I needed this.”
“Maybe you need a back rub,” you replied.
Din laughed. “Probably. I don’t know if I’ve ever had one. You offering?”
“Never?” You shook your head, incredulous. “Ask me again later. We’re relaxing right now.” You fell into an easy conversation about your week and you finally found out more about his job. As you talked, you leaned further into the couch and started idly tracing shapes along his chest with your fingertips without even realizing you were doing it.
“A bounty hunter makes so much more sense than what I was thinking,” you remarked as he finished telling you about his last job. “All of your ridiculous stories make sense now.”
Din laughed again and you realized you wanted to hear that sound more. Every day, if you could.
“That’s good. I realized in retrospect how it all sounds when I was talking to you.” He reached up and laced his fingers through yours, stilling your hand against his chest. “It doesn’t scare you?”
You looked down at his visor and smiled. “I was already worrying about you, but I know you’re capable. I could tell from your stories. If anything, it’s reassuring — you must be good at it, to be doing it this long.” You sighed. “But I probably will still worry, yes.”
Din hummed and you felt certain he was looking at you, too, even though you couldn’t tell through the dark glass. “Cara offered me more work around here. I think I’ll take her up on it. I’ll still go off planet sometimes, but not as much.”
“Well,” you said, smiling, “I won’t pretend I don’t like the sound of that. But you don’t have to do that just because we’re, um…” you trailed off as you realized you didn’t exactly know what you were.
“Relaxing together?” He teased, and you laughed. “It would be better for Grogu, that’s important. But I do want to be here more so I can see you more. Not only send messages.” He squeezed your hand. “I like you.”
You felt something warm settle inside you at his words and you were certain it showed on your face. “I like you too, Din.”
You told him more stories about the kids’ antics during the week, but you realized as you finished a story about Kiran trying to adopt a lizard from the lava flats as the class pet — and Grogu wanting to eat it, instead — that Din had fallen asleep.
You smiled and curled your body more around his helmet and the pillow in your lap. The fact that he felt comfortable enough to fall asleep with you filled you with warmth. You took the opportunity to study this man who had somehow swept you off your feet through pad messages. Even without seeing his face, you could tell he was attractive – his body was toned and strong, but not thin. You could tell he was used to very physical work. You traced his shoulders and arms and chest with your eyes and bit your lip – he was much more exposed like this, without armor. You could see the outline of his body and it made you press your thighs together under the pillow.
Get it together, you told yourself sternly. We are relaxing, not ogling.
He stirred, suddenly, and you couldn’t help but soothe him. “Shhh, go back to sleep,” you murmured. “Relax.” He seemed to settle again at the sound of your voice, so you kept talking. “I’m really glad you feel comfortable here, Din. With me.” You hummed along to the music softly for a moment. “You really are very handsome. I can tell. And kriff, these shoulders. And your hands.” You laughed softly at yourself. “I already liked you, you know? Without seeing you. But now…” you trailed off, suddenly embarrassed by what you were admitting even though he was asleep.
At least, you thought he was asleep.
He startled you by responding, suddenly, and tightened his hold on your hand on his chest to keep you from pulling away. “Now?” he asked, voice scratchy and deep. “Now what, cyar’ika?”
You felt your face heat up. “How much of that did you hear?”
Din hummed and settled more into the couch. “Something about my shoulders.”
“Kriff,” you said, laughing. “That’s so embarrassing.”
He shook his head. “No, I liked it.” He squeezed your hand. “What were you going to say? But now…” he prompted you, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
“Now I like you and I can’t stop looking at you, I guess.”
He looked at you for a moment, helmet tilted back. Then he started to sit up. You made a noise in complaint but he settled in much closer to you than before with his arm over the back of the couch. You were touching from shoulder to knee. Your breath caught.
“Is that really what you were going to say, mesh’la?” He leaned in towards you and pressed his helmet to your forehead again.
You shivered. “Din—“ you started, not sure what you were going to say.
“Tell me,” he urged you softly. He dropped his arm over your shoulders and suddenly you were totally wrapped up in his warmth.
“I already liked you,” you repeated, leaning into his embrace. “And I already wanted you. Before I’d even seen you.” You stumbled over your words but felt a surge of confidence when you felt him draw in a sharp breath. “And now I can’t stop looking at you. Because you already had me with your flirting.” You reached out and placed your hand on his thigh and squeezed, and you couldn’t take it anymore. “But Din, I am so turned on. I know we just met, officially, but—“
“Cyar’ika,” he murmured, wrapping his free arm around your waist. “I’ve been hard since you told me to lie down in your lap.”
Your gaze shot down to his pants, but you couldn’t see any proof.
“These pants don’t show it. But believe me,” he lifted your hand from his thigh and placed it over his hard length. Your eyes widened. “I want you. Badly.”
“Din,” you breathed. You looked back up at him and squeezed his cock, and watched a shiver travel across his shoulders.
“How dark is your bedroom?” He asked suddenly.
“Very,” you said, a bit confused. “I have those curtains that block out the light, helps me sleep.”
“Perfect,” he replied, and tugged you up off the couch. “Come here, mesh’la.” He grabbed something from the pile of his things on the coffee table and led you towards your bedroom after you pointed it out.
Once inside, he moved towards the windows and closed the curtains. The room immediately darkened. He stood with his hands on his hips, looking around the room, and nodded.
“Good,” he said, and you stepped closer.
“Good for what?”
Din held up his hand and you realized he was holding a length of black cloth. “It’s dark enough in here. But just to be sure… if you, would you wear this?”
Suddenly you realized the reason why he was doing all of this and your entire body lit up in response. “Your helmet?” you asked, eyes wide.
He nodded. “Will you?” He held what you recognized as a blindfold towards you, and you nodded before he’d even finished speaking.
“Of course,” you said, stepping closer. “Din, I promise, I won’t look. But yes, I’ll wear it.”
You saw some of the tension fade from his shoulders and smiled. He took you gently by the shoulders and turned you around. “Thank you,” he murmured as he lifted the blindfold into place. He tied it tightly, but not too tight. “How’s that?” You felt air on your face and wondered if he was waving his hand in front of your eyes.
“I can’t see anything,” you confirmed. You reached back, trying to find him, and he caught your hand. “I promise.”
He turned you back around slowly and suddenly you were pressed up against his chest with his hand on your back. “I believe you. I trust you.”
You thought of the way he had fallen asleep so easily in your presence and smiled. “What now, Din?”
You heard a hissing noise and then a large thump and realized he must have removed his helmet. The sound of his voice confirmed it. “Now, cyar’ika,” he said, and you shivered when you felt his breath on your face, “I’m going to kiss you.”
You opened your mouth to respond, yes, and maybe please, but you never got the words out. His lips met yours and every other thought flew out of your head. You could tell he was somewhat new to this – that wasn’t surprising, considering what he’d told you about his helmet – but he learned quickly and you barely noticed any awkwardness. You lost yourself in his kiss, in his arms, in the darkness of your blindfold.
When his tongue traced along your bottom lip, you moaned, and his answering moan made you feel lightheaded. He broke away suddenly to press kisses down your neck and you sighed. “Din,” you said, and realized your hands were tangled in his hair. His hair. “That feels so good.”
“Does it?” He murmured, and you could hear his smirk. “Tell me, cyar’ika.”
You pushed yourself closer until you were pressed fully against him. “Yes, Din. Can we– can you–” you weren’t sure what you were asking, and he interrupted you with a nibble at your neck.
“We can do whatever you want,” he promised, voice low. “What do you want, mesh’la?”
That word, the new one, finally snagged at your attention. “What’s that mean?”
He lifted his head and pressed his smile to your cheek. It made you smile back. “That’s what you want? To know that?”
You nodded. “Please. And then I want you to make me come.”
Din growled and tugged you in the direction you were pretty sure led to your bed. “Beautiful,” he said, voice intent. “It means beautiful. Because you are.” He tugged you downwards and you realized he was sitting on the bed. You settled into position straddling his lap and ground your hips down. His answering moan was very gratifying. “Let me make you feel good.”
He had one arm around your back, and you felt his other hand trail along the waistband of your pants. You tilted your hips forward to encourage him. He undid them deftly and you sighed when his large fingers slid inside your underwear.
He teased you, and you knew he could feel how wet you were without even pressing inside.
“Did I turn you on, cyar’ika?” He pressed his lips to your ear and you shivered at how deep his voice was. “Is this for me?”
“Yes, Din,” you said, and before you could say anything else his fingers parted your folds and slipped inside.
“So wet,” he said, voice awed. “And all for me, hmm?” His fingers found your clit and circled it and you gasped. He swallowed it with a kiss.
You broke away on a gasp when he replaced his fingers with his thumb and trailed through your wetness to circle your entrance with his fingertips. “Din,” you said, pleading.
“Is this what you want, mesh’la?” You nodded and he nipped at your neck below your ear. “I thought about this,” he said, lips brushing against your ear as he slid his fingers inside you. “Thought about this when you talked to me, when I pictured you covered in more paint than clothes.” He curled his fingers forward and you moaned. “Thought about this when you made me smile, when you said you think about me.”
“I do, Din,” you said, voice unsteady. You wrapped your arms around his neck and ground down on his fingers. “I thought about this, too.”
“Yeah?” he asked, and you nodded against his neck. “My fingers?”
“Yes,” you said, building up a rhythm with your hips. “And your cock. And your tongue.”
Din let out a noise you could only classify as a whine and it sent sparks shooting up your spine. “You want that? My mouth on you?” You nodded, almost frantically, and he shuddered. “I want that too. You have no idea how much.”
You could feel it building inside of you and you buried your face in his shoulder. You marveled at feeling so much of his skin as you did.
“I think you’re close, cyar’ika,” he murmured between kisses on your neck. “You’re squeezing me.” His thumb started to move faster and you knew you were about to fall over the edge. “Come for me, beautiful. I want to feel it.”
You did, with his fingers thrusting in and out of you and his arm holding you tight in his lap. You cried out his name as you fell and shuddered at the sparks flying through your body. The pleasure washed over you like a wave, head to toe.
When you came back to yourself, you were on your back on the mattress with Din’s body pressing you down.
“You with me?” he asked, and you nodded. “Good. Cyar’ika, I want to fuck you.”
Your head swam at his words, and you nodded again.
“Let me hear your voice,” he murmured, and kissed you. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me, Din,” you said, and felt it when he smiled into a kiss. “I’ve wanted it, badly.”
“Me too,” he promised, and lifted off of you to remove his flight suit. When he pressed back down and you felt his skin on yours your eyes rolled back in your head.
“Dank farrik,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re so soft.” He rubbed his body against yours and you gasped at the sensations he sent through you. His hard cock was trapped between your stomachs and you lifted your hips, wrapping your legs around him, trying to change the angle.
Din tilted his hips and suddenly his cock was nestled against you, and you gasped. “You feel so kriffing good,” he moaned, and you nodded.
“You too, Din,” you cut off on a gasp when the head of his cock nudged your clit. “Please fuck me.”
Din huffed a laugh, and murmured, “so polite.”
You smacked him lightly on his very shapely ass, and then paused to fondle it. He laughed again and you grinned into his neck. “Is there something wrong with polite?”
Din nudged at your cheek until you turned into a searing kiss. “No,” he finally replied, lifting his hips and reaching down to move his cock right where you wanted it. “Just makes me want to give you what you want. Even more.” The head of his cock pressed against your entrance and you sighed. “I’ve thought about this so many times, almost since the beginning.” He started pushing inside and you tangled your fingers in his hair. You were panting. He was big. “And then I saw you, and you were flirting with me, and I couldn’t,” he pulled out slightly and thrust forward again, “stop,” he did it again, farther in this time, “thinking about it.” He pushed steadily forward until his hips met yours and you both moaned.
“Me neither,” you said, turning your head and nipping at his ear. He moaned again. “So much, Din.” He shuddered as he pulled out and thrust forward again, and you lifted your hips to meet him.
He found a steady rhythm that sent sparks up and down your spine, building you up and sending you closer and closer to the edge. Your mind was spinning with pleasure and a bit of awe that you were finally there, that Din was inside you, like you’d been hoping for. Like you’d been craving.
Din leaned his weight onto his left arm and snaked his right hand between your bodies until he found your clit. When he circled it with his finger you almost sobbed.
“I want to feel you come again, mesh’la.” Din’s voice was rough with his own pleasure and it made yours shoot higher. “Squeeze me tight. Dank farrik.” His chest heaved when you did as he asked and squeezed. “Let me feel it. Come for me.”
He thrust forward again and circled your clit just right and you fell off the edge again, but this time it felt like you were flying. You spiraled upwards on the wave of pleasure and when it crashed down again it flowed over your entire body, leaving tingles in its wake.
You squeezed his cock and he moaned into your ear. “You feel so good when you come, kriff, your pussy feels so good.” His hips thrust forward again, losing their rhythm, and you knew he was close. You tugged at his hair until your mouth hovered over his.
“Din,” you said, and kissed him. “Come inside me.”
He moaned and he did, thrusting twice more before stilling and moaning your name. When he collapsed on top of you you wrapped your arms and legs around him and sighed.
“Kark,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses along your neck and throat. “That was so good.”
You laughed, and gasped when he laughed too and you felt it against your chest. “It was, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “You know, I like this relaxation thing.” You laughed and squeezed him. He grunted. “I have another confession.”
“Uh oh,” you teased. “Is this the last one?”
Din pushed himself up until he was leaning on his left arm again and kissed you softly. “I promise. After this it’s just getting to know each other more.” He kissed you again. “But I need to tell you. I didn’t just run because you’re beautiful.” another kiss. “Even though you are and that was part of it.” A longer kiss this time followed by a nip to your bottom lip. You smiled. “But I also saw you, and all of these feelings I’d been putting off and denying came rushing up and I couldn’t deny them anymore. I think I was afraid, since we’d never met, never seen each other.”
You nodded. You knew that feeling.
“It was all real, suddenly, and I wasn’t ready for that.” He nudged at your nose with his and hummed.
You kissed him. “But you’re ready now?”
“I am,” he said, voice firm and warm. “I want you. I want this. I want to figure it out.”
Din Djarin x f!reader | 11.4k | 18+ | main masterlist | ao3
summary: After your first few weeks as Nevarro's new schoolteacher, there was only one student's parent that you hadn't yet met. When you decided to send Grogu's dad a message, though, you never would have expected where it led.
a/n: Din's back! This is my fic for @penvisions' give a little love challenge. My prompt was mistaken identity. 👀 Once I figured out where I wanted to take that, this was pretty fun to write! Thank you @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta and helping me whip this one into shape. Also, I did attempt to research how messaging would work in Star Wars, got conflicting results, and then gave up and decided I can do what I want. So consider this almost canon-aligned as far as messaging goes. lol
tags/warnings: epistolary, fluff, space texting, reader is an elementary-ish teacher with no physical description, a lot of school-talk, elementary school student shenanigans, flirting, teasing, pet names (cyar'ika/sweetheart, mesh'la/beautiful), mistaken identity, misunderstandings, Star Wars cursing (kriff, kark, dank farrik), a bit of ogling, smut (kissing, fondling, grinding, fingering (f!receiving), p-in-v sex, creampie)
...
You haven’t been on Nevarro long, but you’ve learned a lot about your new students already. When Karga recruited you, all the way from the Mid Rim, he’d told you it was a small but growing city with a small but growing school. They finally had enough students to need to split them up into multiple classrooms, and that was where you came in. You’d taken the job because you liked the idea of helping to build something, and because you were ready for something new.
You were taking over the room with younger children, which was your preference. And so far they’d been wonderful to work with – they were all so excited by new things, so happy to learn. Each day was a joy as you watched them grow.
As you got to know the kids, you also got to know the parents. Teaching the youngest children made you more well-known around town, and it had been easier to settle in than you expected. There was Diima, who was learning how to braid her own hair and had been teaching some of the other kids – her moms had invited you over for dinner and you thought you might end up being friends. Oora, the young Twi’lek who loved spaceships of all kinds – his father ran the food stall in the market that always had the best fruit. And Tamar and Ilana, the twins, who very intentionally never dressed alike – their parents ran the med clinic.
And then there was Grogu, your smallest student. You’d never met his dad, though you knew of him from Karga and Cara. But so far you’d only learned that Grogu missed him and that he was off planet a lot. He was never there to pick up Grogu, at least not in the few weeks you’d been on Nevarro so far. It was always Cara or IG-11, or a few times even Karga himself.
As you waved goodbye to the last of the kids for the day – Kiran, a young Mirialan whose mother was a mechanic at the shipyard – you collapsed into your desk chair with a sigh. Cara had come by to pick up Grogu again, but you’d been hoping to finally meet his elusive father. The kids would have a show at the end of the term to sing some songs and show off what they’d been learning. So far you’d been able to invite all of the parents personally when they came to pick the kids up. You sighed again and tapped your data pad – you’d just have to send him a message.
You’d sent him a message only once before, when you first started, just to introduce yourself. You hadn’t gotten a message back.
You stared down at the pad for a moment, biting your lip. Just be straightforward, to the point. You nodded and scrolled down to the contact for Grogu-parent. You saved all of your students’ parents’ contact info that way, though you added their names to the end if you knew them.
you:
Hello! This is Grogu’s teacher, I sent you a message a couple of weeks ago when I started. I just wanted to invite you to our end of term show and to let you know that his schedule will be changing a bit, as we’ll be adding a rehearsal once a week. His class will be singing some songs and showing off what they have learned this term. They’re all very excited about it!
You sent another message with the date and time of the show and wondered how you should sign off.
you:
I will also let Cara and IG know. Please let me know if you have any questions and if you’ll be able to attend. Thank you!
Once the message was sent, you leaned back in your chair, hoping you’d hear back from him this time.
You were startled when your pad chimed before you’d even settled into your chair.
Grogu-parent:
Hello. Thank you. I will be there.
You grinned. A response! And so quickly! You needed to say something back, to make it clear this was a way he could get in contact with you if needed.
you:
Great! I know that will make Grogu very happy. He has really enjoyed learning to follow along to the notes of the songs and he is becoming a very enthusiastic assistant on the drums.
There was a pause, and you wondered if you had said too much, or if he’d gone quiet again. But then your pad chimed.
Grogu-parent:
Something he can hit that makes noise? Sounds perfect for him.
You laughed. If someone had told you that morning that you’d actually talk to Grogu’s elusive dad and that he would make you laugh, you weren’t sure you’d have believed them.
Grogu-parent:
Thank you for telling me. I know I miss a lot when I’m off planet.
Suddenly, you realized you hadn’t thought of it that way and wanted to kick yourself. Of course his dad would be sad to miss hearing about what Grogu did in school, and all the little ways he was growing and learning. Your heart squeezed in sympathy.
you:
Would you like me to send you more updates? I would be happy to do it. I usually share them with parents at the end of the day. I’m sorry I didn’t think to send them to you this way instead.
Grogu-parent:
That’s alright. I know I never replied to your message, I didn’t get it until days later. Yes, please send me updates. I might not be able to reply right away but I will be happy to get them.
You tilted your head as you read his message, wondering what sort of work he was doing.
you:
Oh that’s fine! I’ll start sending you updates, but no pressure to respond to them. I understand you must be busy.
Grogu-parent:
I’ll respond when I can. Thank you again.
You smiled as you set your pad down and stood from your desk. Finally, you thought. You’d made contact with Grogu’s dad! You walked out of the schoolhouse with a spring in your step.
As you made your way to the market to pick up something for dinner, you couldn’t wipe the smile from your face. You were happy you’d moved to Nevarro, you realized – you liked the people and the growing feeling of community that you had been welcomed to join almost immediately. There were beings of all kinds in the little city, from all over the galaxy – you’d met a fellow newcomer just the day before, a friend of Cara’s from the resistance who was good with plants. You’d met Carm, a Bothan, who had a knack for fixing droids. You were pretty sure you’d even spotted a Mando, once or twice, and Diima’s mom had told you about the family that had just moved in next door to them and was planning to open a restaurant.
It was a nice place to live. You were happy you’d decided to take the offer.
…
The next day, when Cara picked up Grogu, you let her know that you’d also invited his dad to the show. Grogu chirped and smiled at you, and you smiled back.
“That’s right, bud, your dad is coming!”
Cara grinned. “See? I told you he would, squirt.” Grogu made a noise like a cheer and waved his little arms and you both laughed. “See you tomorrow, teach!” Cara tossed Grogu lightly in the air as she turned and he squealed.
You smiled, shaking your head at their antics as you made your way back to your desk. You knew just what you wanted to tell his dad.
you:
Today Grogu kept working really hard on trying to write his name! The Aurebesh characters are still new and tricky for them, but he honestly does pretty well when we can draw them in the sand with his claws. He also shared his snack with his friend Oora, which was sweet.
You didn’t get an answer right away, and you tried not to be disappointed. It had been nice to talk to him the day before, but you knew he was busy with work, whatever work he did. You packed up your bag and hefted it onto your shoulder.
When your pad chimed, you dropped it unceremoniously back onto your chair.
Grogu-parent:
Are you sure you’re talking about my kid? He’s not usually one to share food.
You laughed, but before you could reply your pad chimed again.
Grogu-parent:
That’s great about his name. I know he knows so much, even though he seems so little.
You nodded as you typed your response.
you:
He does! I can tell. Sometimes he gets a little bit frustrated when he can’t communicate the way he wants. But the kids are all great with each other and they really listen to him, even without words.
Grogu-parent:
I’m glad to hear it. I worried he would be too little for the class, even though technically he’s older than I am.
You laughed and tucked away that little tidbit of information.
you:
I know he’s technically the oldest, but he’s also not the youngest, in terms of development. They’re a good group and they get along well.
Grogu-parent:
He is an old baby, isn’t he? Thank you. Again.
You laughed and found yourself smiling again as you walked to the market. You wished you knew his name, but it felt awkward at this point to ask. You supposed he’d have to stay “Grogu-parent” in your pad. For now.
…
After that, you fell into a bit of a rhythm.
He wasn’t always able to reply immediately – sometimes you came in to work in the morning to find his response waiting for you, and you didn’t let yourself wait for more than a few minutes at the end of the day.
But he always replied.
You found him easy to talk to, with a clear sense of humor and love for his son that you could feel through the messages. It infused every word he sent you, and it made you smile softly whenever you thought about it. You still felt bad that you hadn’t thought of this arrangement earlier. But you tried to make up for it with more details now.
…
you:
Grogu led the other kids in a game today at recess. It seemed to be a mixture of tag and catch, and I’m not sure if he made it up, but they had fun. And I was proud of him for teaching them without words!
Grogu-parent:
Sounds like the game he learned from a friend’s kid on Sorgan. I’ve seen him play it before, but I’ve never figured out the rules. I’m not convinced they don’t make them up each time they play it.
…
you:
Grogu drew you a picture today! From what I could tell it’s your house, he was very proud of it.
Grogu-parent:
I can’t wait to see it. He has a collection growing at home on the walls of his room.
…
you:
Today we learned about hyperspace, and Grogu got really excited when I showed some footage of what it looks like to travel in hyperspace from the cockpit. He’s not the only kid who’s been in space, of course, and they all had a lot of fun sharing about their experiences. He drew us a picture of what I think is your ship, and the other kids loved it.
Grogu-parent:
He does love hyperspace. I think it’s the colors. That kid loves to fly, even to go upside down. Never seen someone treat an evasive maneuver like a thrill ride like that.
you:
Evasive maneuvers, huh? Sounds intense!
Grogu-parent:
It’s been a while, but when he first came to me we had to run from some people who were looking for him. And me. Took us around the galaxy for a bit.
You remembered the school’s security measures that Karga and Cara had told you about and furrowed your brow.
you:
Is everything ok now? Is he in any danger? Are you?
Grogu-parent:
We took care of it. But that’s why we have the alerts in place at the school. Don’t worry, nothing will happen to you.
you:
I’m not worried about me! But Grogu and the rest of the kids! I can’t believe anyone would want to hurt them.
You could believe it, though. You just didn’t want to.
you:
I mean, I know the Galaxy can be like that. I just wish it wasn’t.
Grogu-parent:
I know what you mean. I wish that, too.
You didn’t realize until later while you were eating dinner that he’d never answered your question about his own safety, and it made you worry. You didn’t even know what his job was, you realized, and felt the worry settle in your chest.
…
you:
Grogu made you another picture but this time he refused to use any color except blue. I’m not sure what it is, but he was very insistent about it! Cara took it home for you.
Grogu-parent:
I’m not surprised, he loves blue things. I can’t wait to see it.
…
you:
Today Oora gave a demonstration of a traditional dance he learned from his family, and surprised us all – apparently Grogu had been helping him practice and knew the dance, too! It was very sweet of him to dance with Oora when he got nervous.
Grogu-parent:
He does love music, and he really loves helping his friends. He feels everything so strongly.
Grogu-parent:
I’ll tell him, too, but if you remember tomorrow, please tell him I’m proud of him.
…
For once, you had evening plans.
You hurried home at the end of the week to drop your bag and then to meet Cara and Diima’s moms at the cantina. When they’d invited you, you’d internally done a victory dance – you’d made friends!! – but externally, you’d kept your cool. Mostly.
Cara was the only one there when you arrived, and you settled in beside her in the booth.
“Teach!” She greeted you with a grin. “Whatcha drinkin’? How are the kids?”
You gave her your order and soon you had a drink, too. You filled her in on what your charges had been up to that week, getting a few laughs at their antics. “What about you, constable? Anything new?”
“Well, we were going to take care of a reptavian problem over towards the east end of the lava flats, but Mando had to go off planet again. We’ll wait for him to get back, could use his firepower.”
You tilted your head. You figured she was talking about the shiny Mando you’d seen around the market sometimes. “Who–”
But before you could ask, Neela and Aminet arrived, and by the end of the night you forgot you’d even had a question at all.
…
you:
Grogu got excited when we learned about banthas and blurrgs today! We’re focusing on the letter Besh if you couldn’t tell. Then he drew a blurrg, it was honestly a pretty great likeness.
Grogu-parent:
He’s met a few before, so he knows them pretty well.
you:
Wow! When did Grogu meet a blurrg?
Grogu-parent:
When I first met him, we had a friend who kept them. He’s even ridden one before.
you:
You know, his picture from today makes a lot more sense now. He drew a little Grogu on top of the blurrg.
Grogu-parent:
He really likes blurrgs. They seem to like him too, which is good. Otherwise I’d be afraid they were going to eat him.
you:
That IS good because they definitely would.
…
At some point, your messages with Grogu’s dad became less focused on Grogu. You still always made sure to send an update, of course, but you were starting to get to know him, too.
You were trying not to look too hard at how that was making you feel.
You’ve never even seen this man.
You were starting to realize that that might not matter to you.
…
you:
Today we went on a little field trip to the market and Grogu was very well behaved!
Grogu-parent:
Are you sure you’re talking about my kid? He didn’t try to eat every blue treat in sight?
you:
Well, no, he did do that. But then we stopped and talked to the man who makes those blue cookies he likes – his name is Tam – and he showed Grogu how carefully he has to make each one. The way Grogu held the one Tam gave him made me think he was in awe. Anyway after that he was very well-behaved
Grogu-parent:
He does love to learn new things. I bet he loved watching the cookies get made.
you:
He really did! And me, too. I had no idea they were so finicky
Grogu-parent:
Not a baker?
you:
I can make bread ok, I guess. Tam’s got real skill.
Grogu-parent:
I can only make a few dishes but I’m trying to learn more for Grogu.
you:
I bet he loves that! Is it hard to cook on your ship?
Grogu-parent:
I don’t really, no space for it. I mostly rely on rations or quick things until I’m home.
you:
Ok that sounds not so great, so PLEASE promise me you’ll try the new restaurant when you get back. It’s really good and you’ll deserve it after all those rations!
Grogu-parent:
I will.
You tamped down the part of yourself that wondered if you could bring some long-lasting food that Grogu could give to his dad for his next trip. That was probably too much for a person you’d never even met. Right?
…
you:
The kids have been taking turns telling stories about their families, and Grogu told us one in pictures today. It seemed to involve a lot of snow and spiders? Ice spiders? Are those real?
Grogu-parent:
Of course he picked that story.
Grogu-parent:
Yes, it was when we were on the run, like I told you before. My ship was damaged and we had to do an emergency landing on an ice planet.
Grogu-parent:
The local fauna did not appreciate Grogu’s approach to exploring the area and chased us back to the ship.
you:
Holy kriff! We’re they actually as big as a house, or was that his creative license taking over the drawing?
Grogu-parent:
Most of them were small. One of them wasn’t.
you:
That sounds absolutely terrifying
you:
I’m so glad you’re both ok!! How did you get away?
Grogu-parent:
A couple of the New Republic guys from Adelphi had followed us and helped out. But we had to limp over to Trask to get the ship fixed.
you:
You know, that is basically what Grogu drew for us, I think I just couldn’t believe it was all true.
you:
Ok my mind is totally blown. Does this sort of thing happen to you a lot?
Grogu-parent:
More than I would like, yes.
…
you:
Grogu did really well with addition today! We’re learning about adding and subtracting with piles of tokens. He even helped his friend Kiran with a tricky one!
Grogu-parent:
He’s so smart, I’m glad he’s getting to show it.
you:
He really is! And he loves to learn.
Grogu-parent:
I’m glad he’s so good at making friends. I was worried about him. I don’t set the best example.
you:
What do you mean? You have so many friends
Grogu-parent:
I can’t tell if you’re joking.
you:
Not joking! There’s Cara, and Karga, and IG.
Grogu-parent:
3? Is that a lot? I don’t think I’m very good at being friendly.
You hesitated, but it did feel right to call him a friend, at this point.
you:
Well, you’ve also mentioned knowing people on at least two other planets. And you’re friendly with me! That is, if you don’t mind being friends with someone who sometimes forgets to switch out of “talking to kids” voice when talking to adults. And who is usually partially covered in arts and crafts.
Grogu-parent:
I don’t mind. I’d like to be your friend.
You grinned and did not do a little victory dance. Definitely not.
you:
me too!
That one had made you float home.
…
you:
Wait, you really calculate all your jumps yourself?
you:
That’s so impressive! Does it take a long time?
Grogu-parent:
It did when I first started, but I’ve done it so many times it’s not so bad now.
you:
Grogu must get his math skills from you.
Grogu-parent:
So much happened in his life before I found him. Most of the time I feel like I’m learning things from him, and not the other way around.
You felt a little squeeze around your heart at the thought of Grogu without this man, without his dad. You were glad they’d found each other.
you:
That’s adorable, but you should know he shows us things that you taught him all the time.
Grogu-parent:
Uh oh. Like what?
you:
Today he showed us how to tie a cape around your neck so it will stay on. It made me wonder – do you wear a cape?
There was a pause that made you wonder if you shouldn’t have asked. Your message screen moved up as if a new message was about to come in, but then nothing did for another minute.
Grogu-parent:
I do. Sometimes.
You laughed, a bit wonderingly. Who is this man?
…
you:
Today some of the students shared stories or keepsakes from their homeworld or families – this isn’t a mandatory activity, since I know it can be complicated for some. Grogu drew us a picture of IG-11, I think. But he got really excited when Tamar mentioned that the twins have family on Tatooine, of all places.
Grogu-parent:
He’s been there, so that was probably it. I guess I do have another friend there, too. Maybe two.
you:
Ok, I’m starting to think you really undersold your ability to make friends
Grogu-parent:
I wasn’t lying when I said I’m not good at being friendly.
you:
You’re friendly with me! And how else did you get all these friends, then?
Grogu-parent:
I ask myself that all the time.
Grogu-parent:
But it’s easy to be friendly with you.
You blinked and felt your face heat up, suddenly glad you were alone in your classroom.
…
you:
Today in rehearsal Grogu showed us that he memorized his part for the show! It was very cute, I’m sure he’ll do it at home for you.
Grogu-parent:
Oh I’ve seen it. He’s been working hard on it.
you:
Of course he has! I could tell
Grogu-parent:
I’ll be on planet next week, maybe I could watch a rehearsal? If that’s alright. I don’t want to be in the way.
You grinned at your pad, but you also felt suddenly nervous. Were you ready to actually meet him? You didn’t even know his name.
you:
Of course! No, you won’t be in the way, we have plenty of space. It will be so nice to finally meet you!
Grogu-parent:
Ok, good. Yes, it will be.
…
On the day of the rehearsal you walked into the schoolhouse buzzing with nerves and excitement.
You were going to meet him. Grogu’s dad, whose name you still didn’t know, somehow, but whose kind, funny, possibly-edging-towards-flirty messages were starting to take over your thoughts. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, but you couldn’t help it.
You were going to meet him.
You managed to tamp down your excitement as your class arrived and took up all of your attention, but it never quite left your mind. By the time rehearsal rolled around after lunch, the nerves were back.
With 10 minutes to go, you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the door what felt like every 5 seconds. Diima’s mom Aminet arrived, and then the twins’ parents. You knew Kiran’s mom was going to try to get away from the shipyard, too.
The door opened again, and you turned to see her slipping inside and smiled. When you looked past her, you were startled to see the Mandalorian you’d seen around town standing in the street, about 15 feet from the school and framed by the door to your classroom.
He was tall, with very shiny armor and very broad shoulders. He was also covered in a slightly intimidating amount of weaponry, though you knew he was Cara’s friend and so you weren’t actually that scared. For a moment you simply stared at him, and even though his face was covered, you had a feeling he was staring back.
Curious, you took a step towards the open doorway, but that seemed to shock him into action. He took a corresponding step back, looked around, and then turned and walked away.
You poked your head out of the door and watched as he turned a corner, heading towards the market.
Weird.
You heard the kids start to make more noise behind you and turned, realizing it was time to begin.
…
Grogu’s dad never did show, but you tried not to let it get you down. At least, not until after the kids had left.
When Cara came to pick up Grogu, she smiled ruefully and shrugged. “I know, he was supposed to come. Sent me a message asking me to swing by, something came up.”
You sighed and shrugged back. “That’s alright. I know he’s busy.”
Your pad stayed stubbornly silent, and you left it at the school to discourage yourself from obsessively checking it all night long.
What happened?
…
Yawning, you dropped into your desk chair the next morning with a sigh. You hadn’t slept well, too worked up over what had – and hadn’t – happened the day before.
But your heart leapt into your throat when you saw you had a message waiting.
Grogu-parent:
I’m so sorry I couldn’t make it. I had to go off planet again, and it was pretty last minute.
Grogu-parent:
I already apologized to Grogu but I’m sorry we didn’t get to meet. I was looking forward to it.
From the timestamps you could see that he’d sent the messages while you were at home, trying to sleep. You bit your lip, wondering what to say back. It helped that he apologized but you still felt disappointed.
you:
That’s ok. I know you’re busy! I would have liked to meet. Maybe next time?
Grogu-parent:
I shouldn’t be too busy for this. Next time, yes.
you:
Deal. I’m counting on you, friend
There was a long pause that made you bite your lip. Was that too much? You started to put the pad down, sighing.
But then another message appeared.
Grogu-parent:
Since we’re friends, you should call me Din.
You froze. Din?
His name.
You started to grin.
you:
I see you, trying to make me forget about missing you yesterday by telling me your name today!
As soon as you send the message you hesitate, wondering if that was too much. But he told me his name! This has to be flirting. We’re flirting. Right?
Grogu-parent:
Missing me?
Kark. Of course he noticed that. Before you could even feel the heat reach your face he sent another message.
Grogu-parent:
I really wanted to be there.
you:
I’m just teasing you, Din. Thank you for telling me
You grinned and changed his contact name.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I missed meeting you, too
…
After Din told you his name, it seemed like your conversations just… flowed. You were opening up to each other in ways you hadn’t quite been able to before and it was making you feel giddy.
On top of that, you were pretty sure he was flirting with you. At least, you hoped so. You couldn’t stop turning the question over in your mind.
It’s not like you could ask anyone. You hadn’t told anyone you were having actual conversations with this man you’d never met – all Cara knew was that you sent him updates.
These weren’t exactly updates.
you:
Anyway, Grogu loved it. Painting with feet is always a popular activity but he was very enthusiastic
Grogu-parent-Din:
That doesn’t surprise me at all. He loves making a mess.
You laughed.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Is this one of those days when you’re covered in arts and crafts?
You blinked. He remembered that? And he was thinking about that? Was he thinking about what you looked like? You hesitated, and then typed your response.
you:
Oh definitely. I’m wearing more paint than clothes at this point.
Kriffing hell. Why did I just say that? You stared down at your pad, incredulous. That had to be too much. You definitely shouldn’t be flirting with a parent like that. And you hadn’t even meant to flirt! You started to type again, to apologize, but he beat you to it.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Sounds like quite a sight.
you:
See, I warned you, being friends with me means being friends with someone who can’t stop kids from covering her in paint.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Never said it would be a bad sight.
You felt a tingle run up your spine. Did he–
Grogu-parent-Din:
You’re not afraid of a mess. Neither am I.
Grogu-parent-Din:
You’re a good teacher.
Kriff, you wished you knew what this man looked like. You said goodbye and stood up to leave, you should not be having thoughts like this in your classroom.
Not afraid of a mess, he’d said.
Kriff.
…
Din kept flirting with you. It had to be flirting, you’d decided. (And you were definitely flirting.) But neither of you had addressed it directly.
You spent your days with the kids, and about half an hour every afternoon flirting with Grogu’s dad. And then the rest of your evening thinking about it.
you:
Grogu drew us a picture of a sort of humanoid-looking figure hanging off the side of a Jawa sandcrawler. It was pretty small in comparison with the sandcrawler, but was that you?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Unfortunately, yes.
you:
How did you end up hanging off the side of a sandcrawler??
Grogu-parent-Din:
The Jawas took apart my ship, stole the parts. I was trying to get them back.
you:
Well I assume you did, since you still have a ship
you:
How did you get them back? Dare I ask?
Grogu-parent-Din:
That’s a long one, but it involved me getting something they wanted from a mudhorn.
you:
A mudhorn?? An actual mudhorn
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’ll tell you the whole story sometime. But yeah, I got the parts back. Got a whole new ship now, though, that one got blown up later.
You realized you were staring down at your pad, mouth dropped open, frozen.
you:
… Din.
you:
Blown up???
Grogu-parent-Din:
You know, when I list it all out like this, it sounds kind of ridiculous.
you:
Kind of?
you:
Does this kind of thing still happen to you?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I won’t lie, sometimes it does. But not nearly as often.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I promise, I’m careful. Much more these days.
you:
You swear?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I do.
you:
Alright.
As you set down your pad, you thought about what you knew about Din. He wore a cape, did evasive maneuvers in his ship, had friends on multiple planets, and sometimes hung off the side of sandcrawlers and fought mudhorns. Someday you’d find out what his job was, and this would all make more sense.
You hoped.
…
At some point after he told you his name, you started taking your pad home.
It made sense, right? It would be rude to cut off the conversation because you had to go home, of all things.
And so like most nights, you found yourself sitting on your bed, smiling down at your pad, talking to Din for what you refused to recognize was over an hour at this point.
Grogu-parent-Din:
You know, I didn’t realize how much calmer my life is now until I started telling you these stories.
you:
I’m just glad your life IS calmer now! Din, sometimes you tell me things and I don’t know how you survived.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Me too. That it’s calmer now, I mean. For Grogu, of course, but I get a lot more sleep these days.
you:
I know you’re busy, but maybe you could stick around for a bit longer next time. Relax a bit? I think you need it
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’m not very good at relaxing.
you:
Maybe you just need someone to show you how it’s done
You were flirting again. You bit your lip.
Grogu-parent-Din:
You volunteering?
You grinned. He was flirting back.
you:
I might be. What do you say?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I say I’d like that.
you:
Yeah?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Yeah, cyar’ika. Show me how to relax.
You let out a noise that you were glad no one was around to hear.
you:
What’s that mean?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’ll tell you when we’re relaxing.
you:
Promise?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Promise.
…
With only a couple of weeks to go before the show, you were starting to feel the pressure, both for the kids and because you were finally going to meet Din.
He would have to come to the show, right? He said he would. You were pretty sure your distraction was noticeable – Cara had almost called you out on it multiple times. She’d taken to squinting at you and smirking knowingly when she caught you checking your pad.
A few nights after the promise to let you show him how to relax – which you couldn’t let yourself dwell on, not if you wanted to get anything done – he told you about his ship getting blown up.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’ve got a new one, of course, but I do miss that ship.
you:
Of course you do! How long did you have it?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Almost 15 years.
Your jaw dropped. He’d lost his home of 15 years?
you:
Din, I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how hard that must have been.
There was a long pause that made you worry you’d somehow overstepped. You started to type, to backtrack, when his response appeared.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Thank you.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I think people expected me to just get a new ship, but for a while I didn’t want to.
you:
Of course not!
you:
ugh, who said that? Let me talk to them
Grogu-parent-Din:
It’s ok, cyar’ika. No need.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Of course you can make me smile when I’m thinking about this.
You sucked in a sharp breath and tucked yourself into a ball around your pad on your bed. He smiled.
you:
I made you smile?
Grogu-parent-Din:
You always make me smile.
Your own smile felt so big it was taking over your face.
you:
You make me smile too, you know. Even when we’re not talking, you make me smile
Grogu-parent-Din:
Yeah? How do I manage that?
you:
I may or may not think about you, you know… sometimes.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I think about you all the time.
You felt your entire body get hot and tingly and gasped.
you:
Din!
Grogu-parent-Din:
I do. Lately you’re all I want to think about.
you:
Din. Are you flirting with me?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’ve been flirting with you, cyar’ika. Nice of you to finally notice.
You wanted to hide your face, even though you were the only person in your apartment. You settled for kicking your feet like a weirdo.
you:
I hoped you were. I’ve been flirting too, you know
Grogu-parent-Din:
Oh I know.
you:
Din!
Grogu-parent-Din:
I’m sorry I couldn’t come see you last time. I wish I had.
you:
Well, the show is next week! so soon! We can actually meet
you:
It’s not your fault you had to work.
There was another long pause, and you furrowed your brow, but it couldn’t quite wipe the smile off your face.
Grogu-parent-Din:
So I might have lied about that.
you:
About what?
You frowned down at the pad.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I didn’t have to go off planet suddenly.
you:
What?? Din what are you talking about
You didn’t like the swooping sensation in your stomach. So then why had he left?
Grogu-parent-Din:
I did come by the school that day, but I couldn’t go in.
you:
Why not??
Grogu-parent-Din:
I saw you, and I know, I’m sorry. I know it’s not fair that I’ve seen you. But I saw you, and you were smiling at someone, and you are the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen, cyar’ika.
Your mouth dropped open. What?
Grogu-parent-Din: I froze. I got tongue-tied, I guess. All of a sudden I just knew, but I wasn’t prepared. And then I ran like a coward. I’m sorry.
You handled your pad in shaking hands, making a few more typos than you usually did.
you:
Din, are you tellign me that you thought I was so beautiful you ran awaY?
Grogu-parent-Din:
Basically, yes. I know, I know, Cara already read me the riot act. I’m sorry. I promise I won’t run next week.
you:
You better not!! I can’t believe you’ve seen me and I’ve never seen you.
He ran away because you were too beautiful? What the kark? This sort of thing did not happen to you.
Grogu-parent-Din:
I promise I will be there next week and I won’t run away.
you:
Good.
you:
No one’s ever thought I was so beautiful they RAN before, you know
Grogu-parent-Din:
That you know of.
you:
You know, that’s a good point
…
By the day of the show, you were a wreck.
You and Din talked every night, and it was wonderful, but it felt like a build up to something that was going to change your life. You didn’t want to put that much pressure on a simple meeting, but you couldn’t stop yourself.
You liked him so, so much.
And on top of that, the kids were excited and nervous and bouncing off the walls. Literally, in some cases. You wanted things to go well for them, and you wanted things to go well for you.
It was a lot.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Can I come by early? Or should I wait until after?
you:
PLEASE come early. I can’t wait through the whole show to meet you, I’ll be too nervous! The kids are going home for a couple of hours after school, and then they have to be back for the show
Grogu-parent-Din:
Cara is taking Grogu with Oora for a final practice together and I said I’d meet her there. So I can come as early as you’d like. You tell me when to be there and I will.
Your hands were shaking again.
you:
How about half an hour before the kids are due back? Gives me time to have emotions but not to get TOO distracted.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Am I going to give you emotions, cyar’ika?
you:
You know you are, Din.
…
Somehow, the kids had been gone for an hour and you’d managed to finish setting everything up in the small auditorium. The little stage was ready and the decorations were perfect.
And now all you had to do was wait for Din.
It was nerve-wracking. You were doing your best not to watch the clock, but with fifteen minutes to go before he was supposed to arrive, you found yourself pacing around your classroom, talking to yourself.
You were debating running to the corner and back just to work out some energy when someone cleared their throat behind you.
You whirled, heart in your throat, and were surprised to find the Mandalorian you’d seen around town standing in the doorway of your classroom.
“Oh! Hello, Mando.” You took a deep breath and resisted the urge to twist your hands together. “Can I help you with something?”
He didn’t answer right away. He looked around the room, and you took a moment to study him. His armor was very shiny, and it fit him very well. He was a very broad man, you realized. And he had fewer weapons on him than the last time you saw him, though of course he still had some.
He took a step inside and his cape swayed behind him.
“You know,” he said, and his voice was deep and warm. You thought he might be smiling, but wondered how you could tell. “I know it’s not realistic, but I really did picture you more covered in paint.”
You froze and felt a tingling sensation flow from your feet to your head, making you suddenly lightheaded. It can’t be.
“...Din?” you breathed, stunned. Your eyes traveled over the length of him again, and then suddenly caught on the cape.
He stepped forward again and then he was right in front of you. You couldn’t stop gaping at him.
“Hi, cyar’ika,” he said, voice deep. He reached out and lightly brushed his fingers against yours.
Your body finally kicked back into gear at his touch and you shoved him lightly in his armored chest. “Din!” You put both of your palms on his chest and marveled at the fact that he was here, in front of you, solidly physical and real. “You’re here!”
He chuckled, and you marveled again at being able to hear him. “I promised I would be.”
You felt yourself start to smile and noticed his helmet dipped. “I can’t believe you’re here.” You ran your hands down his chest and then froze. “Oh, I’m sorry, I just started touching you, I didn’t even ask–” You started to pull your hands away but he caught them and placed your hands back on his chest.
“You can touch me,” he murmured.
“Yeah?” you asked, grinning.
He nodded.
“I may have thought about it… a lot,” you confessed, stepping even closer.
His hands released yours and came to rest on your hips. “I couldn’t stop thinking about it.”
For a moment you just grinned at him, a bit stunned.
“I’m sorry I didn’t come in last time,” he said, and he did sound sorry. “I wanted to, I just…”
Now that you had him in front of you, real and solid and a man, it felt suddenly easier to tease him. “But you were overwhelmed by my beauty, huh?”
You gasped when he tugged you closer and squeezed your hips. “I was,” he agreed. “You are so kriffing beautiful, cyar’ika.”
You felt yourself begin to melt, but then remembered. “Wait,” you said, looking up at his visor. “You promised – what does that mean?”
He leaned down and nudged your forehead gently with his helmet.
“Sweetheart.”
…
The kids’ show went off without a hitch. Grogu was overjoyed to have his dad in the audience and played the drums with more enthusiasm than you had ever seen him have in practice. All of the kids did well, and their parents kept telling you how impressed they were as they headed home.
As soon as the area around you cleared, after the show, Din appeared with Grogu in his arms.
“Grogu, you did so well!” You reached your fist out to bump his little one and he cheered. “I’m so proud of you and I know your dad is, too.” You looked up at Din, who nodded.
“I am,” he agreed, “I told him.” He looked down at Grogu. “Right, bud?” Grogu made a little noise that definitely sounded like agreement.
“Are you heading out?” You asked, smiling at Cara when she came to join your group.
Din nodded. “Taking this one home. But, I wanted to ask – are you free tomorrow?”
You grinned. “I am.”
He took a step closer and Grogu made a little bah noise. “I’ll message you. But you have plans.”
You could feel Cara smirking at the two of you but you couldn’t look away from Din. “I do?”
Din leaned a little bit closer. “You do now.”
You said goodnight, but the warmth from finally meeting Din and knowing you had plans later carried you home.
Grogu-parent-Din:
Meet me at the market after lunch?
you:
Yes! What are our plans?
Smiling, you made an update to his contact.
Din:
I’m ready to learn how to relax.
…
You stood by the large tree at the edge of the market, nervous but excited. You’d spent too much time picking out your clothes and now that you were there, you couldn’t stop remembering how it had felt to finally touch him.
“You look beautiful,” a warm voice said from behind you, and you spun around.
“Din!” You grinned. He was very shiny in the midday sun.
He stepped closer and one of his hands came up to cup your upper arm. His gloved thumb moved back and forth across your skin in a light caress. “Hi, cyar’ika.”
You felt your face heat at the endearment, now that you knew what it meant.
“I’m ready to relax,” he said, voice teasing.
You laughed and leaned a bit closer. He was right there, in front of you, and you felt like you were floating. “Alright. I say we walk through the market and stock up on some snacks, and then we’ll try out some aimless relaxation. Preferably on a couch or other soft surface. And maybe we’ll listen to some music.”
Din nodded along to your instructions, turning to follow as you walked towards the market. He slid his hand down your arm and slipped it into yours. “Does your place have a couch?”
You looked at him. “Din, would you like to come back to my place? Do you have time?”
He leaned forward and nudged his helmet against your forehead again. “Cara’s got Grogu. I’m all yours. And yes, I do want to.”
“Great,” you said, smiling, and started to point out your favorite stalls. You collected some fruit and cookies from Tam and some other snacks as you walked.
Din took each item and stored them in a bag as you collected them. “Are these the cookies Grogu learned how to make?”
You nodded. “And he still loves them.”
Din laughed. “Of course he does.”
Once you had a nice assortment, you turned in the direction of your apartment. As you walked, you marveled at how easy, how right it felt, to spend time together in person.
“Is it nice, being back on planet?” you asked.
He nodded once. “Food’s much better,” he said, and you smiled. “So’s the company.”
You turned onto the small street with the door to your apartment. “Flatterer.”
As you stepped up to your door to unlock it, Din stepped up close behind you. So close you could feel the heat of his body. “It’s the truth, cyar’ika.”
You felt a shiver travel up your back as you finally unlocked the door, followed by the tips of his fingers as they followed the shiver. “Well, here it is.” You waved your arm at your apartment and stood to the side to welcome Din inside.
He looked around, and suddenly you felt nervous. Before you could get too worked up, though, he said, “I like it. It’s very warm, like you.”
You blinked. “What do you mean?”
Din stepped closer and nudged your forehead with his helmet again. “You’re easy to talk to, and so warm in all of our conversations. It feels like that.”
You leaned closer. “Does this mean something?” You nudged his helmet.
He hummed. “It’s a Keldabe kiss. It’s how we kiss without removing our helmets.”
“Din!” You exclaimed, leaning back to look at him. “You kissed me when we met yesterday?”
“Couldn’t help it.” He leaned in to do it again and you grinned. “I’ve been wanting to for weeks.”
You reached down and took his hand, tugging him towards the living area. “Come on. We have some relaxing to do.”
To your surprise, rather than joining you on the couch, he started stripping off his armor and placing the pieces carefully on your dining table. He must have noticed your surprise because he explained, “Relaxing, right? This will be more comfortable.”
You watched carefully, taking note of each piece. When he was finished he was just wearing his flight suit and helmet. You couldn’t help but ask, “not the helmet?”
Din seemed to tense for a moment, but then he relaxed. “No. I… my creed. I can’t take it off in front of other living things.”
You tilted your head, considering this information. “Not even Grogu?”
He shook his head. “Grogu is clan, he’s my son. Our clan can see our faces.”
That made sense. “Alright. Want to sit?”
You gestured at the seat next to you and smiled as he sat.
“You don’t…” he trailed off and turned in his seat to look at you head on. “You don’t have more questions?”
You turned sideways and leaned against the back of your couch, propping your chin on your hand. Your knee brushed against his leg. “No, not right now. I mean, I want to know more, but mostly I figure you’ll tell me when you’re ready, right? If it’s stuff I can know.” You reached over and slipped your hand into his and squeezed. “I don’t want to push you, and I like the way we’ve been talking.”
He leaned forward and squeezed your hand. “I like it too.” His voice was suddenly much deeper. “Thank you.”
You smiled. “Are you thanking me for being patient?”
Din nodded. “I am. So what’s the next step in our day of relaxation?”
You gestured at your sound system. “Let me put on something soothing.” You grabbed your data pad from the coffee table and set it up. “There.”
Soft music started to play and you eased back into your seat.
“Do we just sit here?” Din asked, sounding a little baffled.
It made you smile. “Yes, but we can talk. Or you can always lie down, that’s much more relaxing.” You grabbed a pillow and placed it against your thigh. “Want to try it?”
“Here?” He pointed at the couch and you nodded. He hesitated and then took off his boots. He slowly leaned down until he was lying back against the pillow. As soon as his back was flat he groaned. “Ok, maybe I needed this.”
“Maybe you need a back rub,” you replied.
Din laughed. “Probably. I don’t know if I’ve ever had one. You offering?”
“Never?” You shook your head, incredulous. “Ask me again later. We’re relaxing right now.” You fell into an easy conversation about your week and you finally found out more about his job. As you talked, you leaned further into the couch and started idly tracing shapes along his chest with your fingertips without even realizing you were doing it.
“A bounty hunter makes so much more sense than what I was thinking,” you remarked as he finished telling you about his last job. “All of your ridiculous stories make sense now.”
Din laughed again and you realized you wanted to hear that sound more. Every day, if you could.
“That’s good. I realized in retrospect how it all sounds when I was talking to you.” He reached up and laced his fingers through yours, stilling your hand against his chest. “It doesn’t scare you?”
You looked down at his visor and smiled. “I was already worrying about you, but I know you’re capable. I could tell from your stories. If anything, it’s reassuring — you must be good at it, to be doing it this long.” You sighed. “But I probably will still worry, yes.”
Din hummed and you felt certain he was looking at you, too, even though you couldn’t tell through the dark glass. “Cara offered me more work around here. I think I’ll take her up on it. I’ll still go off planet sometimes, but not as much.”
“Well,” you said, smiling, “I won’t pretend I don’t like the sound of that. But you don’t have to do that just because we’re, um…” you trailed off as you realized you didn’t exactly know what you were.
“Relaxing together?” He teased, and you laughed. “It would be better for Grogu, that’s important. But I do want to be here more so I can see you more. Not only send messages.” He squeezed your hand. “I like you.”
You felt something warm settle inside you at his words and you were certain it showed on your face. “I like you too, Din.”
You told him more stories about the kids’ antics during the week, but you realized as you finished a story about Kiran trying to adopt a lizard from the lava flats as the class pet — and Grogu wanting to eat it, instead — that Din had fallen asleep.
You smiled and curled your body more around his helmet and the pillow in your lap. The fact that he felt comfortable enough to fall asleep with you filled you with warmth. You took the opportunity to study this man who had somehow swept you off your feet through pad messages. Even without seeing his face, you could tell he was attractive – his body was toned and strong, but not thin. You could tell he was used to very physical work. You traced his shoulders and arms and chest with your eyes and bit your lip – he was much more exposed like this, without armor. You could see the outline of his body and it made you press your thighs together under the pillow.
Get it together, you told yourself sternly. We are relaxing, not ogling.
He stirred, suddenly, and you couldn’t help but soothe him. “Shhh, go back to sleep,” you murmured. “Relax.” He seemed to settle again at the sound of your voice, so you kept talking. “I’m really glad you feel comfortable here, Din. With me.” You hummed along to the music softly for a moment. “You really are very handsome. I can tell. And kriff, these shoulders. And your hands.” You laughed softly at yourself. “I already liked you, you know? Without seeing you. But now…” you trailed off, suddenly embarrassed by what you were admitting even though he was asleep.
At least, you thought he was asleep.
He startled you by responding, suddenly, and tightened his hold on your hand on his chest to keep you from pulling away. “Now?” he asked, voice scratchy and deep. “Now what, cyar’ika?”
You felt your face heat up. “How much of that did you hear?”
Din hummed and settled more into the couch. “Something about my shoulders.”
“Kriff,” you said, laughing. “That’s so embarrassing.”
He shook his head. “No, I liked it.” He squeezed your hand. “What were you going to say? But now…” he prompted you, and you could hear the smile in his voice.
“Now I like you and I can’t stop looking at you, I guess.”
He looked at you for a moment, helmet tilted back. Then he started to sit up. You made a noise in complaint but he settled in much closer to you than before with his arm over the back of the couch. You were touching from shoulder to knee. Your breath caught.
“Is that really what you were going to say, mesh’la?” He leaned in towards you and pressed his helmet to your forehead again.
You shivered. “Din—“ you started, not sure what you were going to say.
“Tell me,” he urged you softly. He dropped his arm over your shoulders and suddenly you were totally wrapped up in his warmth.
“I already liked you,” you repeated, leaning into his embrace. “And I already wanted you. Before I’d even seen you.” You stumbled over your words but felt a surge of confidence when you felt him draw in a sharp breath. “And now I can’t stop looking at you. Because you already had me with your flirting.” You reached out and placed your hand on his thigh and squeezed, and you couldn’t take it anymore. “But Din, I am so turned on. I know we just met, officially, but—“
“Cyar’ika,” he murmured, wrapping his free arm around your waist. “I’ve been hard since you told me to lie down in your lap.”
Your gaze shot down to his pants, but you couldn’t see any proof.
“These pants don’t show it. But believe me,” he lifted your hand from his thigh and placed it over his hard length. Your eyes widened. “I want you. Badly.”
“Din,” you breathed. You looked back up at him and squeezed his cock, and watched a shiver travel across his shoulders.
“How dark is your bedroom?” He asked suddenly.
“Very,” you said, a bit confused. “I have those curtains that block out the light, helps me sleep.”
“Perfect,” he replied, and tugged you up off the couch. “Come here, mesh’la.” He grabbed something from the pile of his things on the coffee table and led you towards your bedroom after you pointed it out.
Once inside, he moved towards the windows and closed the curtains. The room immediately darkened. He stood with his hands on his hips, looking around the room, and nodded.
“Good,” he said, and you stepped closer.
“Good for what?”
Din held up his hand and you realized he was holding a length of black cloth. “It’s dark enough in here. But just to be sure… if you, would you wear this?”
Suddenly you realized the reason why he was doing all of this and your entire body lit up in response. “Your helmet?” you asked, eyes wide.
He nodded. “Will you?” He held what you recognized as a blindfold towards you, and you nodded before he’d even finished speaking.
“Of course,” you said, stepping closer. “Din, I promise, I won’t look. But yes, I’ll wear it.”
You saw some of the tension fade from his shoulders and smiled. He took you gently by the shoulders and turned you around. “Thank you,” he murmured as he lifted the blindfold into place. He tied it tightly, but not too tight. “How’s that?” You felt air on your face and wondered if he was waving his hand in front of your eyes.
“I can’t see anything,” you confirmed. You reached back, trying to find him, and he caught your hand. “I promise.”
He turned you back around slowly and suddenly you were pressed up against his chest with his hand on your back. “I believe you. I trust you.”
You thought of the way he had fallen asleep so easily in your presence and smiled. “What now, Din?”
You heard a hissing noise and then a large thump and realized he must have removed his helmet. The sound of his voice confirmed it. “Now, cyar’ika,” he said, and you shivered when you felt his breath on your face, “I’m going to kiss you.”
You opened your mouth to respond, yes, and maybe please, but you never got the words out. His lips met yours and every other thought flew out of your head. You could tell he was somewhat new to this – that wasn’t surprising, considering what he’d told you about his helmet – but he learned quickly and you barely noticed any awkwardness. You lost yourself in his kiss, in his arms, in the darkness of your blindfold.
When his tongue traced along your bottom lip, you moaned, and his answering moan made you feel lightheaded. He broke away suddenly to press kisses down your neck and you sighed. “Din,” you said, and realized your hands were tangled in his hair. His hair. “That feels so good.”
“Does it?” He murmured, and you could hear his smirk. “Tell me, cyar’ika.”
You pushed yourself closer until you were pressed fully against him. “Yes, Din. Can we– can you–” you weren’t sure what you were asking, and he interrupted you with a nibble at your neck.
“We can do whatever you want,” he promised, voice low. “What do you want, mesh’la?”
That word, the new one, finally snagged at your attention. “What’s that mean?”
He lifted his head and pressed his smile to your cheek. It made you smile back. “That’s what you want? To know that?”
You nodded. “Please. And then I want you to make me come.”
Din growled and tugged you in the direction you were pretty sure led to your bed. “Beautiful,” he said, voice intent. “It means beautiful. Because you are.” He tugged you downwards and you realized he was sitting on the bed. You settled into position straddling his lap and ground your hips down. His answering moan was very gratifying. “Let me make you feel good.”
He had one arm around your back, and you felt his other hand trail along the waistband of your pants. You tilted your hips forward to encourage him. He undid them deftly and you sighed when his large fingers slid inside your underwear.
He teased you, and you knew he could feel how wet you were without even pressing inside.
“Did I turn you on, cyar’ika?” He pressed his lips to your ear and you shivered at how deep his voice was. “Is this for me?”
“Yes, Din,” you said, and before you could say anything else his fingers parted your folds and slipped inside.
“So wet,” he said, voice awed. “And all for me, hmm?” His fingers found your clit and circled it and you gasped. He swallowed it with a kiss.
You broke away on a gasp when he replaced his fingers with his thumb and trailed through your wetness to circle your entrance with his fingertips. “Din,” you said, pleading.
“Is this what you want, mesh’la?” You nodded and he nipped at your neck below your ear. “I thought about this,” he said, lips brushing against your ear as he slid his fingers inside you. “Thought about this when you talked to me, when I pictured you covered in more paint than clothes.” He curled his fingers forward and you moaned. “Thought about this when you made me smile, when you said you think about me.”
“I do, Din,” you said, voice unsteady. You wrapped your arms around his neck and ground down on his fingers. “I thought about this, too.”
“Yeah?” he asked, and you nodded against his neck. “My fingers?”
“Yes,” you said, building up a rhythm with your hips. “And your cock. And your tongue.”
Din let out a noise you could only classify as a whine and it sent sparks shooting up your spine. “You want that? My mouth on you?” You nodded, almost frantically, and he shuddered. “I want that too. You have no idea how much.”
You could feel it building inside of you and you buried your face in his shoulder. You marveled at feeling so much of his skin as you did.
“I think you’re close, cyar’ika,” he murmured between kisses on your neck. “You’re squeezing me.” His thumb started to move faster and you knew you were about to fall over the edge. “Come for me, beautiful. I want to feel it.”
You did, with his fingers thrusting in and out of you and his arm holding you tight in his lap. You cried out his name as you fell and shuddered at the sparks flying through your body. The pleasure washed over you like a wave, head to toe.
When you came back to yourself, you were on your back on the mattress with Din’s body pressing you down.
“You with me?” he asked, and you nodded. “Good. Cyar’ika, I want to fuck you.”
Your head swam at his words, and you nodded again.
“Let me hear your voice,” he murmured, and kissed you. “Tell me what you want.”
“I want you to fuck me, Din,” you said, and felt it when he smiled into a kiss. “I’ve wanted it, badly.”
“Me too,” he promised, and lifted off of you to remove his flight suit. When he pressed back down and you felt his skin on yours your eyes rolled back in your head.
“Dank farrik,” he said through gritted teeth. “You’re so soft.” He rubbed his body against yours and you gasped at the sensations he sent through you. His hard cock was trapped between your stomachs and you lifted your hips, wrapping your legs around him, trying to change the angle.
Din tilted his hips and suddenly his cock was nestled against you, and you gasped. “You feel so kriffing good,” he moaned, and you nodded.
“You too, Din,” you cut off on a gasp when the head of his cock nudged your clit. “Please fuck me.”
Din huffed a laugh, and murmured, “so polite.”
You smacked him lightly on his very shapely ass, and then paused to fondle it. He laughed again and you grinned into his neck. “Is there something wrong with polite?”
Din nudged at your cheek until you turned into a searing kiss. “No,” he finally replied, lifting his hips and reaching down to move his cock right where you wanted it. “Just makes me want to give you what you want. Even more.” The head of his cock pressed against your entrance and you sighed. “I’ve thought about this so many times, almost since the beginning.” He started pushing inside and you tangled your fingers in his hair. You were panting. He was big. “And then I saw you, and you were flirting with me, and I couldn’t,” he pulled out slightly and thrust forward again, “stop,” he did it again, farther in this time, “thinking about it.” He pushed steadily forward until his hips met yours and you both moaned.
“Me neither,” you said, turning your head and nipping at his ear. He moaned again. “So much, Din.” He shuddered as he pulled out and thrust forward again, and you lifted your hips to meet him.
He found a steady rhythm that sent sparks up and down your spine, building you up and sending you closer and closer to the edge. Your mind was spinning with pleasure and a bit of awe that you were finally there, that Din was inside you, like you’d been hoping for. Like you’d been craving.
Din leaned his weight onto his left arm and snaked his right hand between your bodies until he found your clit. When he circled it with his finger you almost sobbed.
“I want to feel you come again, mesh’la.” Din’s voice was rough with his own pleasure and it made yours shoot higher. “Squeeze me tight. Dank farrik.” His chest heaved when you did as he asked and squeezed. “Let me feel it. Come for me.”
He thrust forward again and circled your clit just right and you fell off the edge again, but this time it felt like you were flying. You spiraled upwards on the wave of pleasure and when it crashed down again it flowed over your entire body, leaving tingles in its wake.
You squeezed his cock and he moaned into your ear. “You feel so good when you come, kriff, your pussy feels so good.” His hips thrust forward again, losing their rhythm, and you knew he was close. You tugged at his hair until your mouth hovered over his.
“Din,” you said, and kissed him. “Come inside me.”
He moaned and he did, thrusting twice more before stilling and moaning your name. When he collapsed on top of you you wrapped your arms and legs around him and sighed.
“Kark,” he murmured, pressing soft kisses along your neck and throat. “That was so good.”
You laughed, and gasped when he laughed too and you felt it against your chest. “It was, wasn’t it?”
He nodded. “You know, I like this relaxation thing.” You laughed and squeezed him. He grunted. “I have another confession.”
“Uh oh,” you teased. “Is this the last one?”
Din pushed himself up until he was leaning on his left arm again and kissed you softly. “I promise. After this it’s just getting to know each other more.” He kissed you again. “But I need to tell you. I didn’t just run because you’re beautiful.” another kiss. “Even though you are and that was part of it.” A longer kiss this time followed by a nip to your bottom lip. You smiled. “But I also saw you, and all of these feelings I’d been putting off and denying came rushing up and I couldn’t deny them anymore. I think I was afraid, since we’d never met, never seen each other.”
You nodded. You knew that feeling.
“It was all real, suddenly, and I wasn’t ready for that.” He nudged at your nose with his and hummed.
You kissed him. “But you’re ready now?”
“I am,” he said, voice firm and warm. “I want you. I want this. I want to figure it out.”
Boo! Greetings, my kinky mochis and welcome to my first Kinktober! I'm quite nervous, but also excited to be trying this challenge. I hope my writing can live up to your wildest fantasies. I’ve catered this list according to your requests (and my self-indulgence). I’ll try my best to complete every prompt and add more —keep in mind it won’t be every day, but mostly, since I must be realistic about my writing habits and want to deliver the very best. Feel free to join this event’s tag list by commenting on this post or any of the solo texts. I’ll also be implementing a personal tag for this event #mochi kinktober since I saw other creators do it. What day got you most excited? So, ready to go trick-or-treating?
DAY 1. handcuffs, orgasm control 🫀 | Sabo
DAY 2. degradation, semi-public, possessive sex 🫀 | Portgas D. Ace
DAY 3. cum licking, outdoor sex 🫀 | Monkey D. Luffy
DAY 4. praise kink, multiple orgasms, creampie 🫀 | Shanks
DAY 5. lingerie, mirror sex 🫀 | Black Leg Sanji
DAY 6. monster fucking, creampie 🫀 | Charlotte Katakuri
DAY 7. medical play, dacryphilia 🫀 | Trafalgar D. Water Law
DAY 8. blindfolds, impact play 🫀 | Eustass Kidd
DAY 9. breeding, daddy kink 🫀 | Roronoa Zoro
DAY 10. orgasm denial, kneeling, marking/biting 🫀 | Mihawk Dracule
DAY 13. fire play 🫀 | Portgas D. Ace
DAY 11. oral sex, overstimulation 🫀 | Monkey D. Luffy
DAY 12. dom/sub, sensory dep 🫀 | Sabo
DAY 14. spanking, brat taming, hair pulling 🫀 | Trafalgar D. Water Law
DAY 15. sex pollen, messy sex, threesome 🫀 | Roronoa Zoro & Black Leg Sanji
DAY 16. size difference, punishment, quiet sex 🫀 | Charlotte Katakuri
DAY 17. threesome, voyeurism 🫀 | Shanks & Mihawk Dracule
DAY 18. finger sucking, dildos 🫀 | Yamato
DAY 19. writer’s choice, double penetration 🫀 | Portgas D. Ace & Trafalgar D. Water Law
EXTRA DAYS. birthday sex, breeding/creampie 🫀 | Trafalgar D. Water Law
Boo! Greetings, my kinky mochis and welcome to my first Kinktober! I'm quite nervous, but also excited to be trying this challenge. I hope my writing can live up to your wildest fantasies. I’ve catered this list according to your requests (and my self-indulgence). I’ll try my best to complete every prompt and add more —keep in mind it won’t be every day, but mostly, since I must be realistic about my writing habits and want to deliver the very best. Feel free to join this event’s tag list by commenting on this post or any of the solo texts. I’ll also be implementing a personal tag for this event #mochi kinktober since I saw other creators do it. What day got you most excited? So, ready to go trick-or-treating?
DAY 1. handcuffs, orgasm control 🫀 | Sabo
DAY 2. degradation, semi-public, possessive sex 🫀 | Portgas D. Ace
DAY 3. cum licking, outdoor sex 🫀 | Monkey D. Luffy
DAY 4. praise kink, multiple orgasms, creampie 🫀 | Shanks
DAY 5. lingerie, mirror sex 🫀 | Black Leg Sanji
DAY 6. monster fucking, creampie 🫀 | Charlotte Katakuri
DAY 7. medical play, dacryphilia 🫀 | Trafalgar D. Water Law
DAY 8. blindfolds, impact play 🫀 | Eustass Kidd
DAY 9. breeding, daddy kink 🫀 | Roronoa Zoro
DAY 10. orgasm denial, kneeling, marking/biting 🫀 | Mihawk Dracule
DAY 13. fire play 🫀 | Portgas D. Ace
DAY 11. oral sex, overstimulation 🫀 | Monkey D. Luffy
DAY 12. dom/sub, sensory dep 🫀 | Sabo
DAY 14. spanking, brat taming, hair pulling 🫀 | Trafalgar D. Water Law
DAY 15. sex pollen, messy sex, threesome 🫀 | Roronoa Zoro & Black Leg Sanji
DAY 16. size difference, punishment, quiet sex 🫀 | Charlotte Katakuri
DAY 17. threesome, voyeurism 🫀 | Shanks & Mihawk Dracule
DAY 18. finger sucking, dildos 🫀 | Yamato
DAY 19. writer’s choice, double penetration 🫀 | Portgas D. Ace & Trafalgar D. Water Law
EXTRA DAYS. birthday sex, breeding/creampie 🫀 | Trafalgar D. Water Law
Can you do Ace, Sabo, and Law reacting to fem!reader belly dancing?
They're on a mission and she has to disguise herself as one of the dancers in order to get intel about a trafficking ring. Reader usually dresses in baggy clothes and tends to hide during parties so I imagine they'd be quite shocked.
Belly Dancing
fem!reader
characters: ace, sabo, law
a/n: sorry for the wait! I tried to make them all different so I hope I didn't change too much your request
tags: established relationship, mission, fluff
word count: around 1.4k - 2.3k each
anime m.list || ao3 || ko-fi || requests list
── .✦ Ace:
You stand in front of the mirror, heart hammering, staring at the shimmering costume in your hands.
The coins and sheer fabric feel… wrong. Too revealing for your usual style.
Your face burns but then you take a deep breath and slip it on, the cold fabric and metal brushing your skin.
You try to cover yourself with your hands as best you can as you exit your room to show the crew that's waiting.
“Guys… do I really have to?” you whisper, your voice small.
The room is quiet for a beat. Everyone in the room turns to look at you… their eyes widen, mouths hang open. Absolute silence.
And there he is… your boyfriend Ace.
His face goes from pure shock to full-blown panic in less than a second.
“HEY! Stop staring! Everyone!” he yells, voice booming.
He flails his arms, trying to block everyone’s view “Eyes! Cover your eyes!”
Some of the crewmates quickly obey, others are still frozen. Ace steps in front of you, arms wide, shielding you like a human wall.
You feel your chest loosen, and a wave of relief hits you. You hug him tightly, leaning into the warmth and safety.
He presses his body closer, still glaring at anyone daring to glance “If anyone so much as looks again, I swear—”
You giggle nervously “Thanks… I feel way better now.”
Ace keeps holding and covering you as he walks, moving you both away from the crowd.
Once you’re alone, he finally lets go but his gaze locks on you, deep and steady.
“You… you don’t have to do this,” he says softly, his voice low and careful “if it makes you feel too uncomfortable.”
Your heart skips a beat. You bite your lip, torn. You want to say no. You should say no. But the mission… the crew…
Ace sees right through you and a small, knowing smirk curls his lips.
“Anyway,” he says, softer now but teasing, “you’re really, really, reaaaaaally beautiful! I’m so lucky to have you. I bet everyone’s even more jealous now!”
Your cheeks heat up, but a small smile slips through. He always knows exactly what to say, even when you’re embarrassed.
Later on, you walk with the crew toward the club, trying not to think about the outfit. The coins still jingle with every step, reminding you how exposed you feel.
“Just act natural.” someone says behind you.
You whisper, “I can’t act natural like this…”
Right before you enter, a hand grabs your wrist.
You turn and see Ace.
He leans closer, voice low “Don’t worry. I’ll be in there too… watching.”
You freeze, then you frown at him like he just insulted your whole family.
“That makes it even worse!” you whisper-yell.
He grins wide, way too pleased “Oh, I know.”
Your face burns “You’re unbelievable!”
You quickly turn and rush inside before he can say anything else but you can feel his eyes on you.
He loves teasing you way too much.
Backstage is busy. Dancers move around, fixing outfits, makeup, talking, laughing. You try to focus. You gather information, listen to conversations, spot guards…
“Hey, you’re new?” one dancer asks.
“Yeah,” you nod quickly “first night.”
She smiles “Just follow us. You’ll be fine.”
Yeah… sure… fine…
Before you can think more, you’re pushed toward the stage. The music starts and the lights hit you.
You step out with the other dancers.
Okay… okay… just move…
You start dancing, trying to follow the rhythm, copying the others. Your hips sway, your arms move, coins ringing softly.
Then you spot Ace right there in the crowd, staring.
Your face burns instantly “Why is he staring like that?!” you mumble under your breath.
You try to hide behind another dancer, shifting slightly.
“Hey,” the girl next to you whispers sharply, “keep the formation!”
“Sorry!” you whisper back, panicking, moving back into place.
Then suddenly, the music slows.
The presenter steps forward with a big grin “And now… a solo performance from each of our girls!”
Your eyes go wide “No. No no no no—”
You slowly try to step back, turn and casually walk away.
A hand grabs your arm.
“Nope!” a dancer says, smiling too sweetly.
“I think I’m sick,” you whisper “very sick. Dying, actually.”
She laughs “You’ll survive.”
One by one, the dancers go, called by the presenter.
“And now our sweet Y/N!!”
You freeze and before you can react, someone pushes you forward.
You stumble into the center “Wait!”
Too late. You stand still for one second. Heart racing and mind blank.
Then you inhale slowly.
You can do this.
You move slowly at first, shy, then smoother.
Your body follows the rhythm, hips rolling, arms flowing. The coins sing with every motion.
The room goes quiet for a moment, as they see your shyness transform into a weird confidence, and then loud cheers.
The crowd loves you.
You blink, surprised, but keep going.
At the back Ace is frozen, completely stunned, eyes wide, mouth slightly open.
The men start shouting.
“Look at her!”
“She’s amazing!”
“Hey, over here!”
Ace’s expression changes slowly from shock to not okay.
“…yeah, no…” he mutters.
He walks to the side, as if he's searching for something.
He spots a smoke detector and a small grin appears.
A spark from his hand.
BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!
The alarm goes off loud and sharp.
Panic spreads instantly.
“Fire!”
“Get out!”
The crowd rushes toward the exit. Chaos everywhere but you stay there because you saw him.
Soon, the room is empty except for you and Ace.
You walk toward Ace slowly, arms crossing. You shake your head, trying to look serious.
“I saw you.” you say.
He shrugs, way too casual “No idea what you’re talking about.”
You narrow your eyes but your lips twitch as you’re trying so hard not to laugh.
“Really?”
“Really.” he grins.
You look away for a second, biting your lip, shoulders shaking slightly.
“You’re unbelievable…” you say, but your voice is softer now.
Ace steps closer “They were yelling too much.”
“Oh? That’s your excuse?”
“Yep. Headache.”
You finally look at him again, and this time you can’t hide the smile.
“…Idiot.”
Ace grins like he just won something “Yeah, but your idiot.”
You roll your eyes but then you step closer and wrap your arms around him.
He freezes for half a second… then melts. His arms come around you fast, pulling you tight against his chest like he doesn’t want to let go.
“You okay?” he murmurs softly, his chin resting on your head.
You nod against him “Yeah… I am now.”
There’s a small silence then he pulls back just enough to look at you. His eyes are softer now.
“You were amazing…” he says.
You blink “Huh?”
“Your dance,” he adds, like it’s obvious “it was… wow. I mean, I knew you were beautiful, but—” he stops, scratching his cheek, suddenly shy “That was something else.”
Your cheeks heat up again “Ace…”
“No, really,” he continues, more serious now “not just the dance. Everything. You were brave. You went in there even if you were uncomfortable. You helped the crew.”
His hand gently takes yours “I’m… really proud of you.”
Your heart skips. You look down for a second, then back up at him, smiling softly “You’re gonna make me cry, you know?”
He laughs “Hey, I’m just telling the truth.”
You tilt your head, teasing “Since when are you this sweet?”
“Since you looked like that on stage.” he shoots back instantly.
You gasp, lightly hitting his arm “Ace!”
He laughs louder this time and before you can say anything else, you lean in and kiss him.
It’s soft and gentle, a little shy at first.
He freezes for a second then kisses you back, just as soft, just as warm.
When you pull away, he’s smiling like an idiot.
“You’re dangerous, you know that?” he murmurs.
“Oh? Why?” you ask.
He leans closer “Because now I don’t want anyone to ever see you like that.”
You laugh “Too late.”
He pretends to think “Yeah… guess I’ll just have to keep you for myself.”
Before you can answer, he suddenly lifts you up.
“Wha—Ace!”
He spins you around, laughing as you cling to him. The coins on your outfit jingle loudly.
“You’re impossible!” you laugh.
“And you love it!”
He stops spinning, but doesn’t put you down yet. Instead, he looks at you again, soft, warm, a little breathless.
“…Yeah,” you whisper “I do.”
He smiles and then he leans in again.
This kiss is deeper… still soft but full of something stronger. And for that moment, the mission, the danger, the chaos… everything disappears.
It’s just you and him.
── .✦ Sabo:
The room is quiet as the plan is explained. Maps spread across the table, voices low and serious.
Sabo stands at the front, one hand on the table, the other holding a paper.
“There’s a club,” he says, calm and clear “High-profile guests. Illegal trades happen in private rooms. We need someone inside.”
You lean against the wall, arms crossed, listening.
“One of the easiest ways in,” he continues, “is through the dancers. They move freely. They hear things.”
You raise an eyebrow.
“A dancer?” someone asks.
Sabo nods “Yes. It’s the best option.”
He pauses for a second, then his eyes move to you.
You notice but stay silent waiting for the details.
“…No.” he says right after, straightening “Actually… no. Maybe we should send someone else.”
You blink “…What?”
The others look between you and him.
“It’s just…” Sabo clears his throat, suddenly very focused on the map, “it might be… uncomfortable. The outfit, the attention—”
You push yourself off the wall, walking closer as a small smile appears on your lips “That sounds fun, actually.”
Sabo freezes.
“…Fun?” he repeats slowly.
You nod “Yeah. Sneaking around, dancing, getting secrets, new outfits? Sounds like a good time.”
He stares at you like you just said something illegal.
“…You’re serious?” he says quietly.
“Very.”
There’s a pause, then Sabo exhales slowly, setting the paper down “It’s not just ‘dancing.’”
You tilt your head “I figured.”
He finally looks at you properly now. Not as a commander or as someone explaining a plan. Just… you.
“You don’t like attention like that…” he says gently “You avoid it, actually.”
You shrug “Usually yeah.”
“Usually.” he repeats “And this isn’t just attention. It’s a room full of dangerous people watching you. Judging you. Getting close.”
You hold his gaze, calm “I can handle dangerous people.”
“I know that.” he says immediately without hesitation or doubt “That’s not what I’m worried about.”
That makes you pause.
“…Then what?”
Sabo’s voice softens “I’m worried you’ll force yourself to be okay with something you’re not.”
The room goes quiet again, everyone looking at the scene with much attention.
He isn't arguing or ordering you, he’s just… worried.
You smile a little softer now.
“I said it sounds fun.” you remind him.
He huffs lightly “You also say that before doing things that stress you out.”
“That’s not true.”
“It is.” he says, almost amused “You smile like that when you’re about to challenge yourself.”
You cross your arms again “…And what if I am?”
Sabo doesn’t answer right away. He studies you, thoughtful. Then he sighs, a small smile appearing “…Then I won’t stop you.”
You raise an eyebrow “That easy?”
“No,” he admits “not easy.”
He steps a little closer, lowering his voice so only you can hear “But I trust you.”
Your chest tightens just a bit.
“And,” he adds, softer, “I’ll be right there if you need anything. You won’t be alone in this.”
You look at him for a moment, then grin again but this time more playful “See? Now it sounds even more fun.”
Sabo shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping him “…You’re impossible.”
“And you still picked me for the mission.” you shoot back.
He gives you a look “I didn’t.”
“You did.” you say, pointing at him.
A few people in the room snort quietly. Sabo sighs, but there’s a smile on his lips now.
“…Fine,” he says “we’ll go with the dancer plan.”
You nod, satisfied, but as the meeting continues, you catch the way his gaze lingers on you quietly making sure you’re really okay.
Koala claps her hands once “Alright! Come on, we don’t have much time!”
Before you can react, she grabs your wrist and pulls you along.
“Wait—hey!” you laugh as you’re dragged away.
Ivankov follows behind, already smiling “Ohhh, this will be fun! Leave everything to us!”
“I’m suddenly scared…” you mumble.
“You should be!” Koala grins.
Some time later…
You stare at yourself in the mirror “…Oh.”
The outfit is… different.
It fits perfectly, light fabric wrapping around you, coins and gold details catching the light. Your usual baggy clothes feel like a distant memory now.
Your makeup is soft but glowing, your eyes highlighted, your lips just enough to stand out.
You turn slightly, watching how the fabric moves, curious “Hm…”
Koala beams behind you “See? Told you!”
Ivankov clasps their hands dramatically “A vision! A star! The crowd will faint!”
You tilt your head “It’s not as uncomfortable as I thought.”
Koala crosses her arms proudly “Because we’re amazing.”
“…You are” you admit.
Ivankov suddenly grins wider “Now, let’s show the others.”
You blink “…Wait, what?”
Too late.
The main room is loud again, people talking, laughing, until Ivankov’s voice booms “ATTENTION EVERYONE!”
Silence falls instantly.
Sabo looks up from the table, slightly confused “…What are you—”
“Prepare yourselves,” Ivankov continues dramatically, “for a transformation like no other!”
Koala pushes the door open wider.
“And now…” Ivankov gestures grandly.
You step in.
You don’t pose and obviously, you don’t try to impress.
You just walk in slowly, looking around with curiosity, adjusting a small detail on your outfit like this is all… new, interesting.
“Oh… so this is how it looks in this light…” you murmur, more to yourself than anyone.
Silence.
Then they explode.
“Whoa.”
“Is that really—?”
“No way…”
Compliments start pouring in.
“You look amazing!”
“That suits you so well!”
“I didn’t even recognize you!”
You blink, a bit surprised but smiling “Really?”
Sabo says nothing… he’s completely still. Frozen.
His eyes are on you, wide, but not in shock, but… something close, like his mind is trying to catch up.
You notice him and tilt your head slightly “What?”
No answer, then he finally exhales, almost like he forgot to breathe.
“…You…” he starts, then stops.
That alone makes a few people go quiet again.
Sabo always has words.
Always.
He rubs the back of his neck, looking at you again, slower this time, taking in the details but not in a way that feels heavy or uncomfortable, more like careful and thoughtful.
“…It suits you…” he says finally.
Simple words, but his voice is softer than usual.
You smile a little “That’s it?”
A few people laugh.
Sabo huffs quietly, almost embarrassed “I mean it.”
He steps closer, stopping just in front of you.
“You look…” he pauses again, searching, “…like yourself. Just… different.”
You raise an eyebrow “That’s a weird compliment.”
“It’s not,” he says, shaking his head slightly “it means you’re always beautiful… even when… differently.”
That makes your smile soften.
Koala nudges someone next to her, whispering, “He’s in deep.”
Sabo ignores them all completely as his focus stays on you.
“Are you okay?” he asks quietly.
You nod “Yeah. I told you, didn’t I?”
He studies your face for a second longer, like he’s checking if you’re hiding anything.
Then he smiles small and relieved “…You did.”
You spin lightly once, the coins jingling “So? Mission approved?”
Sabo lets out a soft breath, almost amused now “Mission approved.”
Then, after a beat “…Just be careful.”
You grin “Always.”
But as you walk past him, you feel his gaze following you again… quietly impressed… and maybe a little… in awe.
Later on, when the music starts, you don’t hesitate and step onto the stage like you belong there.
Your body follows the rhythm naturally. Controlled, but free. Confident, even if you’re still learning the steps. The coins on your outfit catch the light every time you turn.
And for a moment you forget the mission too.
From the shadows, Sabo watches and so do the others, they stay hidden, blended into the edges of the club and outside, watching through half-lit corners.
Sabo doesn’t blink. At first, he’s focused, observing, noting guards, exits, guests. Then you move again and something shifts.
Because this isn’t the same you as always, this isn’t the you in baggy clothes who leans against walls and listens quietly.
This is something else. Present, light and alive in a way that pulls attention without asking for it.
Sabo’s hand stills mid-note.
“…Huh.” someone near him whispers, barely audible.
But his mind is no longer tracking exits or threats, he’s tracking you and he doesn’t even fully understand why.
It’s not just that you’re beautiful, because to him you always are. It’s the way you look like you’re actually enjoying it.
Sabo exhales slowly.
“…That’s unfair…” he murmurs under his breath.
Koala, somewhere nearby, quietly snorts.
The music ends and applause rises.
You step off the stage quickly, making your way back through the side passage. Focused and serious now.
And the moment you reach the other and you all meet back at your hideout, you try to tell them every detail before you forget.
“I got it…” you say immediately, almost breathless but excited “The guards rotate every twenty minutes, but there’s a gap near the west corridor. I heard two of them talking about a shipment… tomorrow night, not tonight… also there’s a hidden door behind the storage room, I think it leads to—”
Someone is already writing it all down.
“—to the lower level,” you continue quickly, “but I didn’t see the full path, I need to go back—”
Once you finish everyone leaves to do their own thing. You turn to Sabo, who's staring at you still and silent… and blushing enough to notice if you’re looking closely.
You blink “…Sabo?”
No answer.
You wave a hand in front of his face slightly “Earth to Sabo?”
Still nothing.
You frown “Wait—did I mess up the info? Was I wrong? Hey, talk to me, why aren’t you saying anything?”
Now you’re actually starting to worry.
“I can go back in, I swear I just need—”
“Stop.”
His voice is quiet.
You pause.
He blinks once, finally focusing again like he just returned from somewhere far away.
“Sorry…” he says.
You narrow your eyes “That’s not an explanation.”
Sabo exhales slowly, running a hand over his face, then he looks at you again.
“I wasn’t listening…” he admits.
You freeze “What?”
He gives a small, almost helpless smile.
“I wasn’t listening,” he repeats “I heard you. I just… didn’t process it. Didn't even notice everyone left the room…”
Your eyes widen “Sabo. That’s literally your job right now.”
“I know.” he says immediately.
Silence falls between you both.
You cross your arms “So what were you doing?”
Sabo looks at you for a long moment then he exhales again, quieter this time “…Thinking.”
“That’s worse.”
Finally a small laugh escapes him at that, but then he shakes his head slightly, like he’s still trying to understand himself.
“But,” he says softly, “obviously not thinking about the mission.”
That makes you stop completely.
Sabo’s gaze drops for a second, then lifts again to you.
“For the first time,” he admits, “I wasn’t focused on it at all.”
Your expression softens a little “…Oh.”
He smiles faintly. Not embarrassed anymore. Just honest.
“And I think,” he adds, quieter, “that’s your fault.”
You blink “Excuse me?”
Now he laughs soft and real.
“No,” he corrects gently “not a bad thing.”
He steps a little closer, enough that his voice drops again “…Just… you were very distracting.”
You stare at him, then scoff lightly “That’s your professional conclusion?”
“Yes.”
You shake your head, trying not to smile too much “Unbelievable.”
Sabo’s eyes linger on you for a second longer.
For a moment, neither of you speaks.
You shift your weight slightly, suddenly aware of the way he’s still looking at you.
“…What?” you ask, a little self-conscious now.
Sabo blinks, like he got caught again, then he smiles small, warm and real.
“Nothing.” he says.
You narrow your eyes “That didn’t look like nothing.”
He huffs a quiet laugh “It’s just…”
He pauses, searching for the right words again.
“You were amazing, really.” he says finally.
You blink “The dance?”
He shakes his head slightly “Not just that.”
His gaze softens even more.
“You went in there, did something completely out of your comfort zone, stayed calm, got the information we needed…” his voice drops just a little “…and you still looked like you.”
Your chest tightens.
You try to play it off, looking to the side “You already said that.”
“I’m saying it again.” he replies gently.
You glance back at him.
He’s closer now and you didn’t even notice when that happened.
“…I like every version of you.” he adds quietly.
That makes your heart skip.
“The one who hides in oversized clothes,” he continues, almost thoughtful, “the one who observes everything before speaking…” his eyes meet yours again “And this one too.”
You swallow softly “…This one?”
“The one who walks into a room full of strangers and makes them stop what they’re doing.”
Your face warms “I wasn’t trying to do that.”
“I know,” he says “that’s why it works.”
Silence falls again but softer this time.
You let out a small breath, smiling “You’re being very nice today.”
“Don’t get used to it.” he teases lightly.
You laugh and then you reach for him without really thinking. Your hand catches his sleeve, pulling him just a little closer.
He freezes for a second but then relaxes instantly.
“…Hey.” he murmurs.
“Hey.” you echo softly.
You lean in first. The kiss is gentle and soft, almost hesitant at the start, like testing the moment or teasing.
Sabo responds right away, one hand coming up to rest lightly at your cheek, steady and warm.
When you pull back, his forehead rests against yours.
“…You’re dangerous.” he murmurs, a small smile on his lips.
You huff a quiet laugh “You too.”
“Not like this.” he replies.
You tilt your head “Like what?”
He looks at you for a second longer “…Like someone who can make me forget about a mission.”
You smile softly “…Then I guess I did a good job.”
He lets out a quiet breath, amused “…You did it all.”
And this time, when he leans in, the kiss is a little deeper but still soft and warm like he always is.
── .✦ Law:
Maps are spread across the table, notes scattered, a low hum of voices filling the room.
Law stands at the center, arms crossed, eyes scanning the notes and the information.
“There’s a club,” he says, tone calm as always “high-end clients. Illegal deals happen in private rooms.”
You lean against the wall, listening.
“We need someone inside,” he continues “preferably someone who can move freely without raising suspicion.”
Voices echo around the room.
Shachi leans forward “What kind of role are we talking about?”
Law flips a page “…Dancer… a belly dancer…”
Silence.
Then the room goes kinda wild.
“Ohhh.”
“Yeah, that makes sense.”
“Smart.”
You raise an eyebrow slightly.
“A dancer?” you repeat.
Law nods once “They have access to most areas. Less scrutiny.”
Penguin suddenly slams his hands on the table “Alright. It’s decided.”
Everyone looks at him.
“It’s between Y/N and Ikkaku then!” he declares dramatically.
You blink “Wait—what?”
Shachi nods seriously “Yeah, unless you want to see Penguin in a belly dancer outfit...”
Silence again.
Penguin puts a hand on his chin, thinking.
“…Mmh,” he hums “I can see myself in it.”
You choke on your own breath.
“NO!” multiple voices say at once.
“I would be fabulous!” Penguin insists.
“You would be a disaster…” Shachi shoots back.
“I have the hips for it.”
“You absolutely do not.”
“I can learn!”
“You will not.”
Law pinches the bridge of his nose “…Focus.”
You’re still trying not to laugh.
“Okay, okay,” Shachi says, waving a hand “so… Y/N or Ikkaku?”
You turn to the side “Ikkaku?”
You look around the room again “…Wait.”
You narrow your eyes “She left, didn’t she.”
Shachi suddenly finds the wall very interesting.
Penguin whistles.
“…Traitor…” you mutter.
A sigh leaves your lips as you push yourself off the wall.
“Well,” you say, stretching your arms slightly, “I guess I have no choice.”
You shrug “I’ll do it.”
A few cheers go up immediately.
“That’s the spirit!”
“We believe in you!”
“Way better than Penguin!”
“HEY!”
You ignore them, looking toward Law instead.
He hasn’t said anything, not a single word, he just… keeps watching you, observing carefully, like he’s trying to picture something he hasn’t seen yet.
“…You’re sure?” he asks finally.
His voice is calm but there’s a slight pause before the question.
You nod “Yeah. It’s fine.”
Law studies you for another second.
“…You understand what the role involves?” he says.
You smirk slightly “Dancing. Looking pretty. Getting information.”
A pause.
“…More or less.”
Another pause.
Then Law nods once “…Alright.”
Simple.
But his gaze lingers a little longer than usual, like he’s still thinking or trying to imagine it.
And omg… you get the feeling he has no idea what’s coming.
The night air is cool when you reach the club. The music is already loud from outside, lights flashing behind the doors.
You adjust your hoodie, hoping to find a dancer outfit inside.
“Alright,” you whisper to yourself, “easy.”
A guard stops you at the entrance, arms crossed.
“Name?” he asks, unimpressed.
You don’t even hesitate.
“I’m not a guest, I'm a dancer.” you say simply, tilting your head.
Then, as you see him hesitate, you offer him a small sarcastic smile “…Do you want to go in and dance instead?”
The guard blinks and looks at you up and down.
Then he steps aside “…Go.”
You nod once and walk in like you belong there.
From a distance, hidden in the shadows the crew watches.
A collective sigh of relief escapes them.
“She’s in.”
“That worked way too easily.”
“I was ready to fight that guy.”
Penguin crosses his arms “See? Confidence. That’s the key.”
Shachi nudges him “You would’ve started dancing at the door.”
“I stand by my method.”
They snicker quietly.
But then they glance at Law and pause, he's not talking or moving.
He keeps staring at the door, not even blinking.
“…Captain?” Shachi calls lightly.
Law’s eyes don’t leave the entrance.
Penguin leans closer to Shachi, whispering “He hasn’t blinked in like… a minute.”
“Two.” Shachi whispers back.
“Three.” someone adds quietly.
“…Should we be concerned?”
“Nah,” Shachi mutters, “we should be entertained.”
A small snort is quickly covered.
Law still doesn’t react.
“…He’s doing it again.” Penguin murmurs.
“Doing what?”
“That thing where he pretends he’s calm but he’s actually losing his mind.”
Shachi nods seriously “Ah. Classic.”
Another crew member leans in, “You think he’s worried about the mission?”
They all glance at Law again, then back at each other.
“…Sure…” Penguin says slowly.
“Yeah,” Shachi adds, clearly not convinced “The mission…Definitely not about Y/N specifically.”
They both nod very seriously.
“He hasn’t looked away once.” Penguin whispers and so does everyone else around.
Meanwhile Law finally shifts slightly but his gaze is still locked on the door… waiting, calculating and thinking.
“You all stop now.” he says suddenly.
The crew freezes then slowly they turn toward him.
Penguin says “We’re just talking about the mission.”
Law narrows his eyes slightly “…You weren’t.”
Silence.
“We were talking about how professional you look right now.” Penguin says.
“…Very focused.”
“…Very calm.”
Law stares at them as they smile too wide and too fake.
“…Shut up.” Law mutters.
That’s all he says, while his gaze goes right back to the door.
After like an hour or so — BOOM.
The ground shakes slightly, then another explosion.
Lights flicker, music cuts off and screams follow.
“What the—?!”
“That came from inside!”
Everyone tenses instantly.
Law’s sword is already in his hand as he steps forward, eyes sharp, ready to move.
“Captain—”
“I know.” he cuts in, voice low.
Smoke starts to spill out from the entrance.
Law’s gaze hardens. He’s about to move, at leats until the door bursts open and you run out… smiling.
Smoke curls around you, spreading behind like a curtain, hiding everything inside.
“Out of the way!” you call, waving a hand as you keep moving.
The crew freezes for half a second then relief hits all at once.
“She’s okay!”
“Told you!”
“Did she just blow the place up?!”
Law doesn’t say anything but his shoulders drop slightly as the tension leaves him in one quiet breath.
He lowers his sword and waits.
You finally reach them, slowing down, hands on your knees as you catch your breath.
“Okay—” you inhale sharply, “—that was a lot.”
You blink, looking up, Law is walking toward you.
Then he suddenly stops right in front of you.
The crew looks between you and him.
“…Why did he stop?” Penguin whispers.
“No idea.” Shachi whispers back.
“…Is he broken?”
“Possibly.”
You straighten up, your breathing slowly returning to normal “…Law?”
No answer, he’s just standing there looking at you, silent.
You frown slightly “…Why aren’t you asking about the info I got? Or why I needed explosions and stuff to run away?”
Nothing… not even a “report” or a nod… just silence.
You’re confused by all this now “…Did I do something wrong?”
That seems to snap him out of it. He becomes very aware of the crew, the situation and of himself.
He clears his throat.
“…We’ll discuss it later.” he says, tone suddenly composed again “…Let’s go back to the Polar Tang.”
The crew pauses then nods but as they start walking you hear them whispering.
“…Did you see his face?”
“He completely froze.”
“I’ve never seen that before.”
“I think it's the outfit.”
“Yeah, it broke him.”
“…What?” you mumble, glancing around and then you look down.
You’re finally aware that you’re still wearing the dancer outfit “…Oh.”
Your face warms slightly “That explains a lot.”
You instinctively move your arms a bit, trying to cover yourself but before you can, a coat drops over your shoulders.
You look up and see Law, even if he doesn’t look at you back.
“…You’ll catch a cold.” he says simply.
You pull the coat a little closer around you, a small smile forming despite yourself.
The crew is watching and definitely judging and trying not to laugh.
Law ignores them completely.
Side by side you walk back.
At the Polar Tang the crew gets louder.
“You BLEW UP the place?!”
“I didn’t blow it up, I just… encouraged chaos!” you defend, laughing.
“That’s blowing it up!”
“Details!”
The room fills with laughter, voices overlapping, energy high now that everyone is safe.
Someone hands you water while someone else keeps asking questions.
“And the guards?”
“And the back room?”
“And the shipment?”
You answer between laughs, explaining everything you remember while someone writes it down properly.
“Hey Y/N!” Penguin calls out, leaning back in his chair.
You look over “Yeah?”
He grins “…Did you learn any dance?”
The room goes quiet for half a second then they explode again with enthusiasm.
“OH?!”
“Wait, yeah!”
“Show us!”
You laugh, shaking your head “You guys are unbelievable.”
“Come on!” Shachi adds “Just a little!”
You’re about to answer but then you glance to the side at Law. He’s sitting slightly apart from the group, as usual, trying to look completely uninterested and unaffected… but his hat is pulled lower than normal and his ears are definitely red.
You stare for a second then smile.
You turn back to the crew, still grinning.
“Sorry, guys.” you say casually.
They lean in.
“…That’s a private show for that grumpy man over there.” you say, pointing directly at
The room explodes.
“OOOOHHHH?!”
“NO WAY—”
“CAPTAIN?!”
“DISGUSTING!”
“I SUPPORT THIS!”
“I DO NOT SUPPORT THIS!”
Meanwhile Law isn't moving at all but the red on his ears spreads just a little more.
“…Y/N…” he says slowly.
You grin wider “Yes, Captain?”
“…Don’t start things you can’t finish.”
The crew goes wild again.
“OH?!”
“WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!”
“CAPTAIN?!”
You laugh, raising your hands slightly “Relax, relax…”
But your eyes stay on him and his stay on you, embarrassed.
“Careful,” you tease softly “you sound interested.”
Law exhales slowly through his nose “…I’m not.”
“Sure…” you hum.
The crew is still yelling in the background, half of them cheering, half of them pretending to be traumatized.
This is way too fun.
The submarine is quieter now that the crew has finally calmed down and moved somewhere else to keep laughing about earlier.
You step into your room, adjusting the coat around your shoulders, remembering the moment Law gave it to you.
“Finally some peace…” you mumble.
The door opens again behind you and you don’t even need to turn to know who that is. “…You followed me.”
“Coincidence.” Law replies flatly.
You snort “In my room? Sure..”
There’s a short silence, then you turn around and catch him looking at you again.
You smirk.
“…So,” you start, stepping a little closer, “about that private show.”
Law exhales slowly “…Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” you tease, tilting your head “You seemed very interested earlier.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You froze.”
“I did not.”
“You stopped functioning.”
“I was thinking.”
You grin “Dangerous.”
He narrows his eyes slightly but there’s no real bite to it. You take another step closer, lightly holding the edge of his coat around you.
“…You didn’t even ask about the mission…” you add, softer now.
That makes him pause “…I know.”
Your smirk becomes a smile “…That’s not like you… Trafalgar D. Water Law… Captain of the Heart Pirates…”
“I know who I am…” he says quietly.
There’s a brief silence again but then his hand moves slowly and carefully as he adjusts the coat on your shoulders, pulling it a bit closer around you.
“…You did well.” he says.
Simple but softer than usual.
You blink “…That’s it?”
Law glances at you “…What do you want me to say?”
You smile slightly “I don’t know. Something more… dramatic?”
“You went into a place like that,” he says slowly, “did something you’re clearly not used to…” his hand lingers near your arm “…and you didn’t lose yourself in it even if it was uncomfortable for you.”
You look at him for a second “…You noticed?”
“I notice things.” he replies simply.
Of course he does.
You laugh quietly “You mean you stare a lot.”
“…Don’t push it now.”
You grin again but gentler this time.
“Still,” you say, “you didn’t hate the outfit.”
Law goes very still “…I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to…You were staring…A lot.”
His ears are red again.
He clicks his tongue “…You’re annoying.”
“And you’re flustered.”
“I’m not.”
You step closer… close enough now that there’s barely any space left between you.
“You are.” you whisper.
He looks down at you “…Maybe…”
That surprises you “…Oh?”
His hand finally moves, resting lightly at your waist, hesitant but steady.
“…You look good.” he admits.
Your heart skips.
“‘Good?’” you repeat.
He sighs “…Don’t make me say it twice.”
You smile softly now “…Thank you.”
You lean in and kiss him softly at first, then his hand tightens slightly at your waist as he kisses you back.
When you pull away, you’re still close enough to feel his breath.
“…maybe we should’ve sent Penguin?” you murmur.
He almost smiles “…Absolutely not.”
You laugh softly and kiss him again. One of his hands comes up to your cheek, thumb brushing lightly against your skin as he deepens it.
pairing: luffy, zoro, sanji, law, ace, sabo x fem!reader
summary: the moment they realize they can't keep it inside anymore. different settings, different timelines, but the same three words.
scenarios: luffy: set during a quiet sunset on the thousand sunny. zoro: set in wano, in the quiet aftermath of the battle against kaido. sanji: set on the sunny right after the escape from whole cake island. law: set in the ruins of dressrosa after doflamingo is defeated. ace: a happy au where he survives marineford and returns to the moby dick. sabo: set on a revolutionary army ship departing dressrosa, following the emotional reunion with luffy.
op.mlist
monkey d. luffy
the sun was starting to dip below the horizon, painting the thousand sunny in shades of messy orange and soft pink. it was one of those rare, quiet moments on the ship where nobody was screaming or exploding things. usopp and franky were tinkering below deck, and sanji was busy clattering around in the kitchen, sending the smell of roasting meat through the salty air.
zoro was napping near the mast, and you were sitting on the grassy deck, leaning your back against the railing. luffy was sprawled out next to you, his straw hat tipped over his eyes, kicking his sandals against the wood.
"it's so peaceful today," you murmured, watching the waves trail behind the ship.
luffy hummed in response, lifting the brim of his hat just enough to peek out at you with one bright eye. "yeah. the wind feels good. i like when it’s like this."
he sat up suddenly, his dark hair messy from the breeze. he wasn't looking at the ocean, though. he was looking at you. luffy had this way of staring that felt like he was seeing everything at once—not just your face, but your whole spirit. it was intense, but in the best way possible.
"you’re making that face again," he said, tilting his head.
"what face?" you asked, laughing a little.
"the happy one. the one you make when you're looking at the sea," he grinned, his smile stretching wide across his face. "i like that face. it's my favorite."
you felt your cheeks get a little warm, but you didn't look away. that was the thing about luffy—he was so honest that it made it easy for you to be honest, too. you reached out and adjusted his hat, tucking a stray strand of black hair underneath the straw rim.
"i'm just glad to be here, luffy. with everyone. with you."
luffy went quiet for a second. he watched your hand as it dropped back to the grass. the air smelled like sea salt and the spices sanji was using for dinner. the ship rocked gently, a steady rhythm that felt like a heartbeat.
"hey," luffy said softly. his voice lost that loud, boisterous edge it usually had. it was grounded and certain. "i've been thinking."
"that's dangerous," you joked, but your heart started to thrum a little faster.
"i decided something a long time ago," he continued, ignoring the jab. he moved closer, his knee brushing against yours. "i want you on my ship forever. not just because you're great at what you do, but because when you aren't around, the meat doesn't taste as good and the adventures feel smaller."
he reached out and took your hand. his skin was warm and calloused from climbing ropes and fighting giants, but his grip was incredibly gentle.
"i love you," he said.
it wasn't a question. it wasn't a confession filled with doubt or nerves. it was a statement of fact, as clear and undeniable as his dream to be the king of the pirates. to luffy, love wasn't a complicated riddle; it was just the truth of how he felt.
"i love you more than meat, i think. and i really love meat," he added with a small, genuine laugh.
you felt a lump form in your throat, the good kind. you squeezed his hand back, feeling the strength in his fingers. "luffy... i love you too. so much."
he didn't wait for anything else. he lunged forward, wrapping his arms around you in one of his signature hugs, but instead of being bouncy and wild, it was slow. he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his straw hat falling onto the grass behind him.
"good," he whispered into your skin, his breath warm. "then that's settled. we're staying together until the very end of the world."
the moment was broken by sanji’s voice echoing from the galley, shouting that dinner was ready. usually, luffy would be the first one through the door, knocking over chairs to get to the plate, but he didn't move right away.
he pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes crinkling at the corners. he gave you one last, firm squeeze of the hand before jumping up and grabbing his hat.
"let's go eat!" he cheered, back to his usual energetic self, but he kept his fingers laced through yours as he started leading you toward the kitchen. "i'm gonna tell sanji to give you the biggest piece of meat because i love you!"
you laughed, following him across the deck, the orange sunlight catching on the sunny figurehead. the world was big and dangerous, and there were emperors and marines waiting over the horizon, but right here, with luffy’s hand in yours, everything felt exactly the way it was supposed to be.
roronoa zoro
the moon was hanging high over the flower capital, casting long, silver shadows across the quiet courtyard of the palace. the celebratory feast was still technicaly going on inside—you could hear the distant, muffled sound of luffy laughing and brook’s violin drifting through the paper walls—but out here, it was just the smell of pine needles and the cool night air.
zoro was sitting on the wooden engawa porch, one leg propped up and his arm resting on his knee. he looked battered; his chest was wrapped in thick bandages from the fight on the rooftop, and he had that exhausted, heavy look in his eyes that only came after pushing past every possible limit.
you stepped out onto the porch, the wood creaking softly under your feet. he didn't turn his head, but his shoulders relaxed just a fraction. he knew it was you without looking.
"shouldn't you be inside?" he asked, his voice gravelly and low. "there's still plenty of sake left."
"i could ask you the same thing," you said, sitting down beside him, making sure to leave enough space so you didn't bump his injuries. "but i think you've had enough for one night. or for one lifetime."
zoro let out a short, dry huff that was almost a laugh. "maybe. but the quiet is better."
he finally looked at you. his one eye was sharp, even in his tired state. he spent so much of his life looking for the next enemy or the next challenge, but when he looked at you, that intensity changed. it wasn't a gaze that was looking for a fight; it was a gaze that was looking for home.
the silence between you two wasn't awkward. it was heavy and comfortable, like an old blanket. you watched his hand stray to the hilt of wado ichimonji, his fingers tracing the familiar wrapping.
"you scared me this time," you whispered, the honesty slipping out before you could stop it. "up there. against the emperors. i thought..."
"i'm not that easy to kill," zoro interrupted. he turned his body toward you, his movements slow and careful. "i told you before. i’m not losing again until i'm the greatest. and i'm not leaving you behind to deal with these idiots alone."
he went quiet for a second, looking down at his calloused hands. zoro wasn't a man of many words. he expressed himself through the weight of his swords and the blood he spilled for his crew. but tonight, under the wano moon, the air felt different. the war was over. they had won.
"i spent a lot of time thinking when things got dark up there," he said, his voice dropping an octave. he reached out, his hand hovering for a second before he let his fingers brush against your wrist. "about things i haven't said. things i usually think don't need saying because i'm here, aren't i?"
you held your breath. "zoro?"
he let out a heavy sigh, looking almost annoyed with himself for having to be vulnerable, but he didn't pull his hand away. instead, he slid his hand down to catch yours, his grip firm and steady.
"i don't know how to do the flowery stuff," he muttered, looking you dead in the eye. "and i'm probably always going to be heading toward a fight. but i want you standing where i can see you. i love you. more than my own life, i think. definitely more than the steel."
your heart skipped. hearing those words from someone as stoic as zoro felt like witnessing something sacred. it wasn't a whim; it was a vow.
"i love you too," you replied, leaning in until your forehead rested against his shoulder. "stubbornness and all."
zoro shifted, ignoring the wince of pain from his ribs to wrap his arm around you, pulling you in close. he rested his chin on top of your head, the scent of sandalwood and iron clinging to him.
"good," he grunted, his thumb tracing small circles on the back of your hand. "now stay here for a bit. the moon looks better from here anyway."
you stayed like that for a long time, listening to his steady heartbeat. he was the strongest man you knew, a demon on the battlefield, but right here, he was just a man holding onto the person he loved most in the world.
blackleg sanji
the air on the sunny was cooling down as the ship sailed further away from totto land. the adrenaline from the escape had finally started to fade, replaced by a heavy, bone-deep exhaustion. the rest of the crew was starting to settle in for the night, but the galley light was still glowing gold against the dark wood of the deck.
sanji was inside, but he wasn't cooking his usual frantic, multi-course feast. he was standing by the counter, moving slowly, his movements uncharacteristically quiet.
you pushed the door open, the bell chiming softly. sanji didn't jump; he just looked up, his eyes softening the moment they landed on you. he looked tired—more tired than you had ever seen him. the bruises from his brothers were still fading, and there was a lingering shadow in his expression that hadn't quite lifted yet.
"you should be resting y/n-chan," he said, though there was no bite in his tone. "you did more than enough today. more than i deserved."
"i couldn't sleep," you said, walking over to the counter. "and don't say that. i’d do it a thousand times over."
sanji stopped what he was doing—preparing a simple pot of tea. he set the tin down and just looked at you. the guilt of leaving, the pain of what happened with his family, and the overwhelming relief of being back home were all swirling in his blue eyes. he felt like he owed you everything. during the chaos of whole cake island, you had been the one to keep his spirits up when he felt like he was drowning.
"i thought i lost this," he whispered, gesturing to the kitchen around him, then his voice cracked slightly. "i thought i lost you. i was ready to give it all up to keep you all safe, but the thought of never seeing you smile at a meal i made again... it was the hardest part."
you reached across the counter, placing your hand over his. his skin was warm, but his fingers were trembling just a little bit.
"sanji, look at me," you said gently.
he met your gaze. usually, sanji was all hearts and exaggerated compliments, spinning around and shouting his devotion. but this wasn't that. this was the man behind the persona—the one who felt things so deeply it sometimes hurt him.
he walked around the counter until he was standing right in front of you. he didn't do a dramatic bow or a flashy gesture. he just reached out and cupped your face with his hands, his thumbs stroking your cheeks with a reverence that made your breath hitch.
"i've spent my whole life trying to prove i have worth by serving others," he said, his voice barely a murmur. "but when you came for me... when you risked everything just to bring a failure like me back... i realized i don't want to just be your cook. or your protector."
he leaned down, his forehead resting against yours. he smelled like cigarettes and expensive flour and the faint, sweet scent of the tea he’d been brewing.
"i love you," he breathed. "not like a knight loves a princess, and not because of some silly code. i love you because you're the only person who ever made me feel like being just sanji was enough. i love you so much it scares me."
the sincerity in his voice was overwhelming. it was a raw, honest confession stripped of all the usual theatrics.
you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him close, feeling the steady thrum of his heart against your chest. "i love you too, sanji. we're never letting you go again."
sanji let out a long, shaky breath, as if he had been holding it since he left zou. he buried his face in your shoulder, finally letting himself relax. the tension left his frame, replaced by a soft, sugary warmth.
after a long moment, he pulled back just an inch, a tiny, genuine smirk playing on his lips—the first real one you’d seen in weeks.
"well then," he whispered, kissing your forehead. "i suppose i have to make sure you're the best-fed person on all the five seas for the rest of our lives. it’s the least i can do for the person who saved my heart."
he turned back to the stove, but this time he kept one arm firmly around your waist, refusing to let you get more than a few inches away. the tea was forgotten as he started to whip up your favorite dessert, humming a low, happy tune under his breath.
trafalgar law
the sun was finally setting over the ruins of dressrosa. the smell of dust and spent gunpowder still hung in the air, but the frantic sounds of battle had been replaced by the distant noise of the citizens celebrating their freedom.
law was sitting away from the main group, propped up against a crumbling stone wall in a secluded corner of the royal plateau. he was covered in bandages—his arm was in a sling, and his dark circles were deeper than usual. he looked completely drained, like a man who had finally finished a marathon he’d been running for thirteen years.
you found him there, holding a small bottle of water in his good hand, staring out at the horizon. you didn't say anything at first; you just sat down beside him, your shoulder resting against his.
he didn't pull away. he didn't even look up, but you saw the corner of his mouth twitch.
"you're supposed to be with the straw hats," he said, his voice raspy and exhausted. "luffy is probably eating half the island by now."
"i'd rather be here," you replied softly. "how are you feeling? and give me the honest doctor's answer, not the 'i'm fine' captain answer."
law let out a long, heavy sigh, leaning his head back against the stone. "everything hurts. but for the first time in my life... the air doesn't feel so heavy. it's done. corazon can finally rest."
he turned his head then, looking at you. his eyes were clouded with a mix of relief and something much more vulnerable. through the entire plan—from punk hazard to the chaos of the birdcage—you had been the one person who didn't just follow his lead, but actually looked out for him. you were the one who made sure he ate, the one who patched his smaller wounds, and the one who stayed by his side when he thought he was going to die in that palace.
"why did you stay?" he asked suddenly. "when doflamingo had me pinned... when it looked like the whole plan was falling apart. i told you to run with the others."
"i don't take orders from other captains, law," you said, trying to keep your voice steady. "especially not when they're being idiots and trying to throw their lives away."
law looked away, a faint dusting of color hitting his pale cheekbones. he reached out with his good hand, his long, tattooed fingers hesitant before he rested them over yours. his skin was cool, but his grip was sure.
"i've spent my whole life thinking about revenge," he murmured, his voice so low you had to lean in to hear him. "i didn't think there was room for anything else. i didn't want there to be. people are a liability. feelings are just variables that mess up a calculated plan."
he squeezed your hand, his thumb tracing the "D-E-A-T-H" tattoos on his knuckles.
"but you... you're a variable i can't seem to account for. you make me want to have a future that isn't just a grave."
he shifted, wincing slightly as he moved his injured shoulder to face you more directly. he looked at you with an intensity that felt like he was performing surgery on your very soul—precise, honest, and deep.
"i love you," he said. the words were blunt, lacking the flair of a pirate or the sweetness of a poet, but they carried the weight of a man who didn't say things he didn't mean. "i don't really know how to be a 'normal' person, and i'm probably going to be a difficult man to walk beside. but i don't want to walk without you."
you felt tears prick at your eyes, and you didn't bother to hide them. you leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek, right near the edge of his sideburn.
"you're stuck with me, surgeon," you whispered. "i love you too."
law closed his eyes, let out a shaky breath, and rested his forehead against yours. the tension he had carried since he was a child in flevance seemed to melt away, just for a moment. he didn't say anything else—he didn't need to. he just held your hand in the dark, watching the stars come out over a kingdom that was finally free, realizing that for the first time, he was free too.
portgas d. ace
the air on the moby dick was thick with the smell of medicinal herbs and the salty ocean breeze, but for the first time in weeks, it didn't feel heavy with dread. the whitebeard pirates were celebrating—not with a roar yet, as many were still bandaging wounds, but with a deep, collective sigh of relief.
ace was sitting on the edge of the infirmary bed, his chest wrapped in thick white gauze. he looked thinner, his skin a bit paler than usual, but the fire in his eyes was back. luffy was fast asleep on a pile of cushions in the corner, snoring loudly after the exhaustion of marineford finally caught up to him.
you were standing by the small bedside table, organizing the fresh bandages and water. you hadn't really stopped moving since the escape. if you stopped moving, you might have to think about how close you came to losing him.
"you’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you keep pacing like that," ace said softly.
you stopped and looked at him. he wasn't wearing his hat or a shirt, just the bandages and his black shorts. he looked human. he looked alive.
"i'm just making sure everything is ready for when marco comes back," you murmured, avoiding his eyes. "you lost a lot of blood, ace. you need to stay still."
"hey," he said, his voice a bit more firm. "look at me."
you finally looked up, and the sight of him—safe, breathing, and smiling that lopsided, tired smile—made your throat tighten. you dropped the roll of bandages and stepped closer, your hands trembling just a little.
"we almost lost you," you whispered, the reality finally crashing down. "if luffy hadn't reached you, if i hadn't been there to block that last hit... i thought i was watching the world end."
ace reached out with his uninjured arm and grabbed your wrist, pulling you toward him until you were standing between his knees. he leaned his forehead against your stomach, letting out a long, shaky breath.
"i know," he muttered into your clothes. "i spent that whole time on the scaffold thinking about all the things i never got to do. i thought about pops, and my brothers... and i thought about you. i thought about how i never told you that the time we spent together in alabasta was the first time i felt like maybe it was okay that i was born."
he pulled back to look at you, his dark eyes shimmering. ace was always the cool big brother, the flashy commander with the flame-flame fruit, but right now, he just looked like a young man who had been given a second chance at life.
"i don't want to waste any more time," he said. he reached up, his hand cupping the back of your neck to pull you down until your faces were inches apart. "i love you. i've loved you since that night we sat on the dunes and watched the stars, but i was too caught up in my own head to say it."
he didn't wait for a response before he kissed you. it wasn't like his fire—it wasn't hot or destructive. it was soft, desperate, and tasted like salt and life. it was the kind of kiss that promised a thousand more tomorrow's.
when he pulled away, he was grinning, those familiar freckles dancing on his cheeks. "so, you're stuck with me now. i'm not going anywhere. i promise."
you laughed through a few stray tears, leaning forward to hug him tightly, careful of his ribs. "you better not, portgas d. ace. i didn't fight an admiral just for you to keep being reckless."
"no promises on the reckless part," he joked, burying his face in your hair. "but i'll always come back to you. that’s a promise.”
outside, you could hear marco calling out to the crew, and the sound of a barrel being tapped. the sun was rising over the sea, bright and hopeful, and for the first time in a long time, the future didn't look like a fight—it looked like a home.
Sabo
the revolutionary army ship was cutting through the waves, leaving dressrosa far behind in a blur of smoke and sunflower petals. the deck was quiet, mostly just the rhythm of the ocean and the low chatter of guards in the distance.
sabo was leaning against the railing, his top hat perched precariously on a wooden crate nearby. he looked exhausted—there were smudges of soot on his cheeks and his blond hair was a complete disaster from the wind—but he had this small, permanent smile on his face that hadn't faded since he'd reunited with luffy.
you walked up beside him, shivering slightly as the night air turned crisp. without even looking, sabo shifted closer, letting the heat from his literal fire-fruit-soul radiate toward you like a personal space heater.
"you're thinking about him again, aren't you?" you asked softly, leaning your elbows on the rail.
sabo let out a huffy, breathless laugh. "is it that obvious? i just... i can't get over how big he got. he’s still a crybaby, and he’s still reckless as hell, but man... he’s really doing it. he’s really becoming someone incredible."
he turned to you, his scarred eye crinkling as he smiled. "thanks for being there, by the way. for looking out for him when i couldn't. i know he’s a handful, but seeing you by his side back there... it made me feel like i didn't have to worry so much."
you smiled back, but your heart gave a weird little thump. "he's family, sabo. and besides, i didn't just do it for him. i did it because i knew how much it would mean to you."
sabo went quiet. the orange glow of a nearby lantern caught the gold in his hair. he reached out, his fingers hovering over the railing before he tentatively slid his hand over yours. his skin was always warm now—a side effect of the flare-flare fruit—and it felt like a direct line to his heartbeat.
"you always do that," he murmured, his voice dropping into that gentle, low register that usually made your brain turn to mush.
"do what?"
"look out for everyone else's heart before your own," he said. he stepped closer, closing the gap until the toes of his boots were touching yours. "you spent the whole mission making sure luffy was okay, making sure the revolutionaries were safe... making sure i didn't overdo it with my new powers."
he took a deep breath, looking down at your joined hands. for a guy who could go toe-to-toe with an admiral, he looked strangely nervous.
"i spent years not knowing who i was," sabo said, his voice steady but raw. "and even after i got my memory back, i felt like i was living for the cause, or for ace’s legacy. but then there’s you. when i’m with you, i don't feel like the chief of staff or luffy’s brother. i just feel like... sabo. and i realized i really, really like being that guy when he’s with you."
he looked up, his gaze locking onto yours with an intensity that made the rest of the world melt away.
"i don't want to just see you between missions anymore. i want to be the reason you’re smiling when the sun comes up. i love you. i think i’ve loved you since the moment you yelled at me for being too reckless in baltigo."
your breath hitched, and a wide, goofy grin broke across your face. "it’s about time you noticed, you idiot."
sabo’s face lit up, his eyes widening in relief before he let out a loud, joyous laugh. he reached forward, catching you by the waist and lifting you off your feet, spinning you around once while you laughed into his shoulder.
when he set you down, he didn't let go. he rested his forehead against yours, his hands warm against the small of your back.
"so... it's a deal then?" he whispered, his breath smelling like the sea and the faint scent of smoke. "wherever the wind blows the revolutionaries, you're staying right next to me?"
"always," you promised.
sabo grinned, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to your forehead. "good. because now that i've got my brother back and i've got you... i think i'm the luckiest guy on any of these blue seas."
he reached over, snagged his top hat, and plopped it onto your head, the oversized brim falling over your eyes. "now come on, let's go get some coffee before koala finds us and starts yelling about the paperwork we're ignoring."
choso found it hard to believe that his current predicament was a reality. you, the most beautiful human being he's ever seen in his whole life, are currently in his embarrassingly messy car, riding his cock with your hands on his chest and your long nails digging into his skin just the right amount to feel good. every so often you'll rake them down his abs and he has to bite his lip hard enough to hurt so he doesn't cum on the spot.
he would pinch himself if he wasn't fucked dumb already. how did this happen? all he remembers is you coming up to him during hours to check stats for a board presentation the two of you are in charge of next week, and you'd gotten sidetracked and started flirting with him. telling him how pretty his hair is, how he's got such long lashes, how his girlfriend or boyfriend is so lucky... to which he'd hastily replied he didn't have one.
he assumed you must've caught wind of his fat crush on you, and you had. but you knew how timid he was and how he probably thought you wanted nothing to do with him outside of work, so you had to make the first move. and now here you are, milking his cock dry in the back of his luxury car, practically drooling all over yourself from how good he's making you feel.
a part of the reason he's enjoying himself so much is because he now knows you like him just as much as he does. you wanted all of this. you initiated all of it. it was your idea to take your lunch break together to work on numbers, your idea to take the same car, his car, to wherever your lunch date would be, you who'd grabbed his broad thigh and trailed your hand up to the fattening bulge in his pants.
it had been all you. and now you were the one taking control and riding him like some sort of sex demon, your sloppy hole sucking him in so tight he could die, gripping onto him each time you lifted your body up, and squeezing tight when you sunk back down and nestled your ass flush to his thighs, which are drenched from your wetness. and gosh, you are wet. so wet that it's leaking down his fat, swollen balls, adding to the sticky mess of precum that'd been leaking out of him since you started using him. you're so loud, too.
he figured he was on the bigger side in comparison to the guys' dicks in the porn he watches, but he must be huge, with the way you're struggling to fit him in and moaning like a slut when your hole manages to suck him in to the base. you're consumed by the big stretch you have to endure each time he fills you up to the hilt, and you're unable to come up with anything other than loud moans of his name and curses. choso can't believe how he managed to get such a brilliant person like you to get so stupid on his cock.
he's barely doing anything, too! just cupping your ass and your hip in either of his big hands as he watches you fuck yourself on him.
"oh my gosh, cho!" you cry out, clamping down on him when the tip of his big cock leaves a sloppy kiss to your sweet spot. he winces a bit, again, holding back on emptying his load inside you when you squeeze too tight. he grabs at your body and tries to lift you off his cock a bit so he doesn't cum inside you.
"it's -mngh- good?" he whimpers, scrunching his face a bit as your hands fly to his thick black hair, tugging on the strands. it feels good, how rough you are with him. makes him feel like he really is just a toy for your pleasure. is he wrong for liking it as much as he does? he can't be. he'll be just fine if this is all he gets from you. he's honestly counting himself lucky you even looked his way to begin with.
"soooooo good!" you say, voice sugary sweet. you slur up your words as you talk and you drool a bit on his cheek, but he doesn't mind. he swipes it off his skin and sucks his fingers clean, moaning up at you. so good, you'd said. dragged it out, too. he's so honored.
you, on the other hand, are already super close. it's kind of humiliating how fast you're getting off on using him, but he's so cute, how could you not? cute, with his big, sparkly eyes looking up at you with such reverence, and his plump pink lips and his pretty, long hair... he might be the prettiest boy ever, really. how could you have resisted him this long? he gives your ass a gentle squeeze, spreading your cheeks and fully forcing you down onto his cock. " ' m really close. could y-you get off a-and i can use my hand and cum into one of my tissues? i d-dont wanna make a mess..." the difference between the way hes handling you and how gently hes speaking to you has your brain spinning.
you shake your head, leaning forward to kiss his swollen lips. you murmur against them. "nuh uh, cho. want it inside me." you barely stutter out the words before you feel yourself gush all over him, cumming all over his cock and soaking his body with your creamy cum. he groans deeply, unable to hold it in much longer, especially after you'd moaned how you wanted him to creampie you just a second ago.
he whines your name and reaches up to wrap his arms around your body, fucking up into you one, two, three times. on the fourth lazy thrust into you, he buries his cock balls deep and cums deep into you, emptying his load inside and painting your walls with his hot, sticky load. he moans way too loud for a man having sex in his car right outside his office, and you have to shut him up by kissing him again. he kisses you a bit too rough, sucking on your lower lip hard enough to bruise. choso hopes it'll redden and swell up enough for everyone in the office to know he'd done it to you.
he hopes they know he'd been fucking you and came inside you, too. then maybe his stupid coworkers would stop giving moon eyes at you and thinking they had a chance.
you end up giving him a big kiss on the cheek and leave the car before he does, mouthing call me as you stumble back towards the office. looks like you'll be spending a lot more lunch breaks together from now on.
"wow." he breathes.
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he's obviously started watching porn, but finds himself confused by how different his looks compared to the men in the clips. most are nice and proportionate to their bodies, some long and lithe, some shorter, but none as thick and heavy as his. why are his balls sticking to the inside of his thighs when it gets hot? why is his cock so heavy that he walks slower than other men? he hates it.
when he sees bigger sizes being praised online he figures they don't mean him. because his cock isn't just big, it's heavy, fat, swings when he walks, and takes up all the space in his boxers. he can't even find a sex doll for him to fuck that'll withstand his size. he's torn through all of them.
how is he ever going to be in a relationship?
when you started liking him, choso had forgotten all about the monstrosity in his underwear and got all caught up in your flirtations. he's never had someone as beautiful as you pay so much attention to him. you're one of yuji's friends from college that's staying at their house for the summer. you include him on your outings with yuji, get him little gifts you say reminded you of him, call him pretty and trace his tattoos with your hands... it all has his brain melting into goo. he only remembers that he's a freak when you're sat on the couch with him sitting on the floor between your legs during movie night, and you're scratching his scalp lightly with your fingertips.
the slow, repeated motion has his cock twitching and slowly rising in his pants, giving an especially hard throb when you tug his hair gently and squish your thighs around him. your hole is close enough to his nose for him to smell you, the sweet tangy scent making his mouth water.
he doesn't notice how bad it looks until his cock is fully stood up in his shorts, and he looks down, seeing the huge tent in his trousers and pushes his hands over it, stumbling to his feet. the quick, sudden movements making him dizzy. "i t-think i left my computer on upstairs" he mumbles, pushing down on his cock and praying you can't see how hard he is. you look up at him through long lashes and tilt your head, giving him a look that's disastrously similar to one you'd probably make if you sucked him off. it has him starting to leak an embarrassing amount.
with a yelp, he rushes upstairs before you can see the mess he's made of himself. he's so disoriented that he accidentally finds himself in the guest room, the one you're currently using, instead of his. and it's heaven. all your little trinkets everywhere, your scent stuck in the room... he dumps himself face first on the bed and buries his face into the pillow you're using, inhaling deeply and starting to hump the mattress through his shorts.
his cock is so swollen, even fatter and more sensitive than normal, and his hip rolls are slow and heavy as he grinds down onto the cushy duvet, inhaling large gusts of your shampoo and lotion from the pillow and imagining he's grinding on you instead. soft, sweet, pretty you. he's so obsessed with you. and you like him too, he knows it... how will he fit his cock in you when the time finally comes for him to fuck you?
"mngh... s-shit-" he groans into the pillow, strings of saliva coating it from his parted lips. he hasn't had feelings like this for another person for as long as he can remember, and imagining you being able to take all of him has his brain completely messed up.
choso pants your name and reaches down to cup his balls through his thin shorts, massaging the heavy mounds as more precum shoots out of his tip and leaks onto your mattress. he wonders if you've touched yourself on this bed too. maybe you touched yourself to him- "oh ff-fuck-" he chokes out, tearing his pants off and grinding his cock raw on your mattress, his fat cock now bare to the cool air of the room and to anyone that could walk in...
"choso, are you in my room? i've been looking for you everywhere! why have you been gone so long? yuji told me to come check on-"
you barge into the room unceremoniously and look at choso rubbing his huge dick on your bed, leaking cum everywhere out of his thick, flushed tip and sniffing your pillow.
"oh my gosh."
he tries to get up quickly, but he's so dazed and his orgasm was ruined and his poor cock hurts so much... he can't stop what he's doing, continuing to hump your bed while looking at you with huge, glossy eyes. "ne- hic- need help, please..." he begs, lips parted as a moan bubbles out of him.
you'd be completely grossed out if this were anyone else in the world sneaking into your room and getting off to you like this, but you know choso. he's so sweet and gentle, and if he got this desperate, you know he must've been wanting you for a long time. you pause by the door. "h-how do you want me to help you?"
he sniffles and pouts up at you. "i wanna do this to you instead..." he says, reaching a hand out for you.
slowly, you approach him, and he makes quick work of tugging you under him. he parts your legs and lines his bare cock up with your clotched hole, starting to grind down on you while panting and looking straight into your eyes.
you gasp at the pleasure erupting through you as he starts to grind down on you. the friction is delicious, and his weight on top of you allows for firmer pressure of your crotches against one another. from this angle, you can look down proper and see if his dick really was as big as it felt, and you gasp at the huge, thick flesh pressing into you.
choso whimpers and frantically kisses you to distract you from gaping at his cock. "please don't look at it," he moans against your mouth, enjoying how good you taste. somehow it's even better than you smell, and he can't resist sliding his tongue past your lips and tangling your tongue with his as he humps you. " 's big and ugly."
he never thought he'd be fortunate enough to do this, but here he is, grinding on and kissing his crush, and all he needed to do was ask. you're nearly distracted by kissing him, but you catch on to his words of insecurity and pull away, panting. "that's not- ah, true, choso. your cock is mnh! nice..."
he perks up, getting overexcited by your praise and moans and squirming. he grabs your hips and tugs off your bottoms, lifting you up and rubbing himself against your naked hole. "yeah?" he pants. "you like it? ugh, 'm so close..."
you mewl each time his wet tip notches partially in your hole then slips out, offering a momentary stretch before he returns to humping you. "c-can i cum on you?" he whines, rubbing you on his dick and maneuvering your body in his big hands. "please... i like you so much, i want you to smell like me-"
"y-yeah... f-fuck, you can put it in me if you want to, too." you gasp as he pushes just a little bit inside again and pulls out, returning to rubbing against you sloppily.
he whines, not wanting to reject your offer, but knowing he'll probably never fit inside you. the thought of stretching you out again and having you cry and squirm on his dick if he buried himself inside you all the way has his vision going white, and his eyes roll as he shoots hot ropes of cream all over your tummy, with you following right after.
as you cum together, choso bends down and kisses you hard once more, dumping his body on yours and practically slurping on your tongue. he's getting all excited again and doesnt notice you grabbing his half-hard cock at the base, starting to slowly push it inside you...
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you’d been feeling that familiar, deep-seated ache, a restless heat simmering under your skin that made every brush of fabric feel like too much and not enough. choso noticed immediately,
of course. he always did.
“you’re so tense today,” he murmured, setting down the book he was reading. his dark eyes were full of soft concern. he came over to where you were fidgeting on the couch and knelt in front of you, taking your hands in his. “what do you need? tell me. i’ll take care of you.”
he said it with such sweet, solemn certainty. he had no idea.
“just you,” you’d said, pulling him up for a kiss. it was supposed to be chaste, but you couldn’t help it—you licked into his mouth, biting his lower lip, your hands sliding under his shirt to feel the warm, firm planes of his back. he made a soft sound of surprise but kissed you back, gentle and thorough.
“mmh… okay,” he breathed against your lips. “i can do that.”
that was ten hours ago.
since then, you haven’t been able to leave him alone. it’s like a magnetic pull. you trail after him into the kitchen while he tries to make tea, pressing against his back, kissing the nape of his neck, your hands sneaking around to palm the growing bulge in his sweatpants. he gasps, nearly dropping the kettle.
“ah—nngh, w-wait, let me just—the w-water!—”
but you’re already sinking to your knees right there on the kitchen tile, nuzzling at him through the soft fabric. he lets out a high, strained whine, his fingers tangling in your hair. “not… n-not here… oh, fuck…”
you give him a break. for about seven minutes.
he’s sitting at the small table, finally trying to eat the simple meal he’d prepared, chopsticks in hand. you slide into his lap, straddling him, knocking the chopsticks from his grip. you grind down against him, capturing his mouth in another searing kiss. he tastes like rice and mild surprise.
“mmph—my food!” he protested weakly, his hands coming up to grip your hips, holding you still for a second. his resolve lasted about three seconds before he was kissing you back, his own hunger quickly overriding the one for his abandoned dinner. “o-oh… oh, god…”
you rocked against him, feeling him harden instantly beneath you, and a pathetic little moan escaped his throat. “ah!please, i can’t think—”
“you said you’d take care of me,” you whispered against his lips, sucking the bottom one into your mouth.
“i am—i’m trying—” he breathed, but he was already lifting you, carrying you the few stumbling steps to the nearest wall, pinning you against it as he devoured your mouth. he was already unraveling, and you’d barely started. “just… let me… ngh!”
you lost track of how many times you pulled him to the edge. on the couch, your hand down his pants, stroking him until he was shaking and begging with quiet, broken sounds.
naturally, you stopped. you pulled away and he cried out, a frustrated, aching sound.
then you're in the hallway, pushing him against the wall to suck a bruise into his throat while you rubbed him through his clothes.
“your mouth… feels s'good, i’m close, i’m so close, please— oh god— please let me come this t-time, please—”
you didn’t. you gave him a moment to breathe, to think he’d regained some control.
he never did.
now he was flat on his back on the bed, and he looked utterly debauched. his hair was a mess against the pillows, his face flushed a deep, beautiful red. tears of overstimulation clung to his long lashes.
he was naked, his cock hard and leaking against his stomach, but he was trembling all over, sensitive to the point of pain. you were straddling his thighs, not even touching him there, just watching him fall apart.
“please,” he whimpered, his voice hoarse and wrecked. he tried to lift a hand to touch you, but it fell back to the mattress, boneless. “just a minute, please, i can’t—my head is s-so empty, i can’t… nngh… c-can't think!”
“you said you’d take care of me, cho!” you reminded him again, leaning forward to trace the shell of his ear with your tongue. he shuddered violently, a fresh tear slipping down his temple. “does my sweet boy want to stop?”
“no!” the word burst out of him, desperate. “no, never, i just—nngh—it’s too much, it’s so much, every time you touch me i feel like i’m dying… i-it’s so good… please…”
you finally sank down onto him, taking him inside in one slow, excruciating glide. his back arched off the bed, a strangled scream caught in his throat.
“ah! ah—! too much, oh my god—” he babbled, his eyes rolling back. he was so oversensitive it was almost painful for him, his whole body seizing up. you didn’t move, letting him adjust to the sheer, overwhelming feeling of being sheathed inside you after so much torment.
“see?” you cooed, leaning down to kiss the tears from his cheeks. “you can take it. you’re doing so good for me.”
he sobbed, a real, shuddering sob. his hands found your hips, his grip weak. “i love you,” he choked out, the words raw and sincere amidst the wreckage of his composure. “i love you, i love you, i can’t—ah! you’re moving, you’re moving, oh fuck—”
you started to move. slowly at first, then building a relentless rhythm. he was completely at your mercy.
“aaahngh— shitshitshit fuck!! right there, r-right there, please, i can’t last, i’m gonna come, i’m gonna— ohmygod— i'm gonna c-come already, i-it’s too soon—!” his whines and pleas and choked-off moans filled the room.
he couldn’t even thrust up to meet you; he was just a trembling, receptive mess beneath you, taking every drop of the frantic energy coursing through you. his eyes were glazed, locked on your face with a look of awestruck, overwhelmed devotion. “you’re s-so pretty— so— so tight. you're k-killing me… feels so good…”
when his climax finally ripped through him, it was silent for a terrifying second before a broken, wailing cry tore from his lungs.
“ah—! ahhh—! fuck! yesyesyes don't— don't stop!” he spilled deep inside you, his body convulsing uncontrollably, his fingers digging into your skin as he rode wave after wave of the most intense release of his life. “s’too much… too m-much… haah… oh, n-no more—!”
you followed him moments later, clenching around him, milking him through his own sensitivity until he was sobbing again, whispering about how much he loves you.
you collapsed onto his chest, both of you slick with sweat and spent. he wrapped his arms around you, still trembling, his heartbeat a frantic drum against your ear. he pressed a dozen weak, reverent kisses into your hair.
“i… i underestimated you,” he whispered, his voice utterly shattered.
you smiled, nuzzling into his throat. “you took care of me. just like you promised.”
he held you tighter, a weak, happy hum vibrating in his chest. “m’never doing that again…” he mumbled, already half-asleep.
── .✦ nanami uses your panties in secret to jerk off
𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 is the epitome of restraint. vanilla to a fault, they say. the man who leaves work at exactly 6pm, sips his whisky neat, and folds his socks into perfect squares.
he’s calm, composed, a gentleman in every sense—dates with quiet dinners, kisses that taste like respect and aftershave, sex that’s missionary with eye contact and whispered praises. no kinks, no surprises. just reliable, earth-shattering pleasure wrapped in a pressed suit.
but everyone has secrets. and nanami’s is filthy.
it starts innocently enough. you’re together six months now, living in his pristine apartment with its minimalist furniture and faint scent of bergamot. it's laundry day, you toss your hamper into the shared basket, not thinking twice. the pile includes a lacy black thong, still warm from your body, tangled among his button-downs.
he sees it that evening, after you’ve fallen asleep on the couch post-dinner. you’re curled up, soft snores, oblivious. he’s tidying—habit, compulsion—when his fingers brush the fabric. he notes how it's smooth. worn. carrying the faint musk of you between your thighs. his breath hitches. just once. he glances at you, heart thudding. then pockets it.
he's now in the bathroom, door locked, he unbuckles his belt with trembling hands. the thong clutched in his fist. he brings it to his nose, inhaling deep—your scent, heady and intimate, arousal and skin and the ghost of your cunt fills his nostrils.
“fuck,” he mutters, the word foreign on his tongue. his cock springs free, already rock-hard, veins bulging. he wraps the lace around his length, the contrast obscene against his flushed skin.
he strokes slow at first, savoring. imagining you bent over the kitchen counter, skirt hiked up, begging for him. the fabric catches on his precum-slick head, and he groans low, biting his lip to stay silent. faster now, hips bucking into his fist, the thong soaked with him.
“y-yours… m'all yours…” he whispers to the empty air, picturing your tight heat clenching around him instead.
it’s over too quick. hot spurts paint the lace, ruining it, marking it as his dirty little trophy. he cleans up meticulously, stuffs the evidence deep in his drawer under folded handkerchiefs. guilt flickers through his brain, but the high lingers.
he kisses your forehead that night, making love to you as vanilla as ever.
it doesn’t stop. next time, a red pair from your gym bag. he jerks off in the shower, water pounding, thong stuffed in his mouth to muffle the moans as he ruts against his fist, cumming so hard his knees buckle. “need you… fuck, need your pretty pussy…”
then the pink cotton ones, innocent and everyday. he takes them to work, tucked in his suit pocket. during a dull meeting, he excuses himself to the executive bathroom, locks the stall, and fists his cock with them, stifling grunts into his tie. your scent clings, pushing him over the edge while visions of you riding him in his office chair flood his mind.
you notice things going missing. “weird,” you tell him one night, rifling through your drawer. “my favorite pairs keep vanishing.”
he nods, face impassive, pouring you wine. “dryer probably. i’ll buy replacements.” his voice steady, but under the table, his cock twitches at the thought.
one night, you pretend to sleep. you hear him in the bedroom after his shower—drawer creaking, soft rustling. peek through lashes: nanami, naked and glorious, your missing black thong stretched over his massive cock, stroking with single-minded focus. his head tipped back, blond hair mussed, lips parted on silent moans. “so wet f'me… shit, gonna fill you up… mine, all mine…”
you watch, heat pooling low, as his abs clench, hand flying. he cums with a choked groan, ropes of white soaking the fabric, dripping down his knuckles. he slumps against the dresser, panting, utterly wrecked.
the next morning, he’s vanilla nanami again—coffee, kiss, “have a good day.” but you smile secretively, already planning. maybe you'd leave a fresh pair out. catch him. make him choke on it while you ride him so hard he sees stars.
after all, even calm men have breaking points. and nanami’s is lace and your scent, unraveling him one stolen panty at a time.
DAY 6. monster fucking, creampie 🫀 | Charlotte Katakuri
Pairing(s): Charlotte Katakuri x reader
Genre: Smut
Warnings: This content is for a mature audience.
Synopsis: He’d do anything to please you, and you can’t believe how much power you have over this man.
Author's notes: Oh, Katakuri, my favourite dilf, how I wish for you to bite me. Also, sorry for the delay, but better late than never! Thank you, @tsunami-of-tears, for the gorgeous dividers.
Leave a comment to get tagged on the next days!
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The tip is angry, pink, and large, as is the rest of him. Droplets of pre-ejaculate fluid run down the shaft, ending at his base and dripping onto the floor. Your eyes are open wide, and your mouth is speechless. Your hands don’t know where to touch first or even how to do it. Your mind runs a thousand miles per hour, trying to process every single way you could try and approach his size.
Katakuri’s face is as flushed as his tip, if not even more so; he’s looking to his side, his eyes averted from yours. His breathing is heavy, and you can hear it underneath his scarf.
“Holy shit, Katakuri. You are fucking huge,” You mumble, not fully processing what just came out of your mouth.
He hums back, not sure how to answer that. He knows this and isn’t reacting how you’d expect him to. Most men would act proud and arrogant because of that compliment, but not the Sweet Commander; he just sighs and closes his eyes.
Your tongue peeks out and drags itself across the skin of his member, and Katakuri groans. For someone who is so rough and strong, he’s quite sensitive.
“Fuck...” His eyes clench harder.
You get bolder. There’s no way you can put your mouth around the entirety of him, but that doesn’t stop you from sucking the head. The surprisingly sweet taste of him welcomes itself into your mouth, making you addicted, craving more. Your hands grip onto the sides of his length, jerking him to the best of their extent. Your breasts push themselves against his skin for more friction, and the feeling and the view are greatly appreciated by him.
Your hips move against his thigh, grinding your clit and chasing your own pleasure. His legs are now covered in a mixture of your saliva, his juices, and your essence. Something feral begins forming in the back of his head.
The lewd and enamoured look in your eyes, the sinful sounds that come out of your mouth, and the heavenly feeling of your tits and core rubbing themselves against him put him on the edge.
“Oh, gods, Katakuri. Fuck me...” Your sultry moans against his skin snap his sanity.
Using his strength and size to his advantage, he grabs you by your torso and sits you on his face, making you yelp. He aggressively rips his scarf away from his face, and you gasp. You had never seen his mouth before; the prominent fangs and tongue surprise you, but he seems to have forgotten about them.
His wet appendage doesn't hesitate to wander your dripping slit, drenching itself in your juices, bewitching him, unleashing something inside him. He thrusts his long tongue inside you, reaching places no one has ever, making your eyes roll to the back of your head, poking and stroking spots that have you gripping onto his hair in a desperate attempt to ground yourself.
Unconsciously, you begin riding his tongue, humping his lips, tongue, and even his teeth, and the contrary sensations of sharpness, mochi-ness, roughness along the softness, unlocking something in you. Once you’ve managed to balance yourself, one of your hands goes to your breasts, pulling on your nipples, the other ends in your mouth, sucking on your digits, trying to remember the feeling of him against your tongue.
Katakuri hums and moans against your core, now sucking and, gently, biting on your clit. He’d do anything to please you, and you can’t believe how much power you have over this man. But right before you can get too cocky about it, it’s like Katakuri can read your mind, with the same strength as before, he submits you.
He pushes you against his cock, making you rub yourself against it. His hand carefully wrapped you, his thumb ending on your neck. You gulp down, remembering just how big he is.
Now you can get a better look at him. His teeth are bigger and sharper than you had envisioned. The sides of his mouth were ripped and sewn back together, leaving an outstandingly visible patterned scar behind, the colour of his tongue matching the one on his eyes and hair. Katakuri is absolutely breathtaking, and you can’t believe he’s been hiding all that from you behind that annoying scarf.
He realises what’s happening and looks for the piece of fabric, but your hips react quicker. You rub your wet cunt against his hard cock, not a chance in hell you’ll be able to have him inside, but you can try.
The Flour Minister abandons the idea of covering himself and grabs you, helping you go up and down on his shaft. You feel like a fuck toy, and the idea both excites you and sends shivers down your core.
“I love your cock, Kata.” You moan, looking him in the eyes, then you lean down to kiss him.
He hesitates but kisses you back. His grating moan makes you feel proud. Katakuri, the always collected and silent warrior, falling apart from you, rubbing your cunt against his cock. What a feeling.
“Mm, Kuri...” You move your hips more thoroughly, pushing yourself back and supporting your hands on his legs, “come on, baby. Give me everything you’ve got.”
His hands move you further up. Now, you are grinding on his sensitive tip. You know what he wants, and even if you’ve never done this before, you know him like the back of your hand.
“Come on, big guy, get what you want.” You stroke his hand with yours, encouraging him.
“You feel so fucking good, my sweet.” He howls.
You focus on rubbing your clit, feeling your high approaching. Katakuri’s eyes focus on the place where you rub against each other. He wets his lips with his tongue, throwing his head back from the pleasure.
“Oh, gods, shit, shit, Katakuri! I’m cumming!” Your rhythm falters, but he’s quick to take over.
You scream his name, before your juices splurge out, making you gasp. Your leg muscles give up and throb deliciously from your climax, your heart beats like crazy, and your lungs crave any air they can take, but you know you are not done.
Katakuri is now chasing his own pleasure, taking over and using you as a cock sleeve. Moving you and rubbing against his tip with one hand, the other one gripping your bottom.
“Yes, baby, give it to me.” You mewl, looking back at the drips that emanate from his cock, “Your cock is so fucking big, Kuri.”
Dirty talk works like wonders on him, as his grip gets tighter.
“Make me yours, Katakuri. Mark me.” You whimper.
That’s it. His mouth goes to your neck; his fangs bite on the skin, piercing it, making sure to leave a scar behind. He bends you in a way that your entrance is right on his tip and you are insides are splashed with his cum along with the rest of your core, thighs, and legs. He moans at the sight. The combination of the bite on your neck and his cum dripping out of you are lethal to him. His fingers go to your cunt and push inside all the seed that’s coming out, pushing it inside.
“Don’t want any of it to come out. I want you to feel me for days.”
You shudder. You don’t know if he knows what’s coming out of his mouth, but you love it.
Katakuri falls, bringing you along, onto the bed. Blush, sweat, saliva, and satisfaction cover his cheeks, and it takes him a couple of seconds to come back down to earth. When he does, he shies away again, processing what just happened.
Your first time seeing his face, kissing, and fucking on the same day. And you couldn’t be happier.
You giggle, placing a small kiss against his lips, “I love you, Kata.”
SECRET BONUS/prequel to pocus -- (a year after merienda) after a three-month long mission, katakuri comes home to a rather interesting surprise... aka the story of Soda's conception.
cw: nsfw, fluff, comfort, katakuri is a bit awkward, he is twenty-three, you are twenty-two, KATAKURI'S GOT IT BAD, reader is a sweetheart.
a/n: took way too long pt.3 </3 will it ever end? no.
Through the pouring rain, Katakuri's heavy footfalls bounded off the damp air, the rhythmic chink of his spurs counting down his approach toward the large, imposing front door of his mansion.
His thick cloak weighed heavy on his tired shoulders, his muscles rigid and stiff with a building tension that was just begging to be released.
Three months.
It had been a whole three months since he'd last seen you.
Last held you...
Last heard your voice...
Last felt your touch...
And he very well felt like he was going insane.
Extended missions were often few and far between for the Sweet Commander—maybe only once or twice a year—but when they came, they were long, and of the utmost importance.
When Big Mom called on him for an assignment, it was because the task required a certain caliber of power and precision that only he possessed, a certain cold calculation that only he could apply.
He was, quite literally, the only man for the job.
And before you became his sweet, little wife, he honestly had no problem with it.
His missions invited excitement and danger into his life, allowing him to face off with opponents relative to his strength and provide brief periods of rest from the ever-constant pressure of being around his family.
He would finally be able to let loose and get back to the true essence of being a pirate past territories and mind-numbing paperwork.
In fact, he would even go as far as to say that they were the times where he was most happy.
But... all of that changed when he finally found a reason to enjoy home.
You.
You eliminated the main reason why he relished staying gone by being your typical, supportive, and understanding self.
Within your presence, he no longer had to worry about remaining flawless or exuding perfection, as you preferred him when he was being his authentic self.
You gave him respite from the perpetual stress he faced due to his family, never asking for or expecting more than what he could offer.
You gave him comfort in times where he began to doubt himself, showering him with praise and sweet nothings as you held him close.
There was no need for missions anymore because he had all the sanctuary he required in you, all the love and care he could ever want right at home.
But, sadly, life had a funny way of dangling happiness just out of his reach.
Stepping up onto the front porch, Katakuri's eyes softened as they landed on the two large flower pots on either side of the door.
Within them were freshly-planted orchids, their rich, pink petals stretching out as far and as wide as his large palm.
Your handiwork, he presumed.
They were your favorite flower, as you often said their color reminded you of his deep, magenta hair.
Little things like that—trivial to others—were the things that made him miss you even more.
Things only you could think of, connections only your beautiful mind could make.
God, he couldn't wait to have you all to himself...
Not wasting another second, he removed his key from his pocket, using it to unlock the door with a loud click.
"Shit!" a soft voice from inside hissed, the sound promptly followed by a rather harsh thud.
Instantly, Katakuri's brows furrowed, sharp pang of fear shooting through his stomach.
'What the...?'
What the hell just scurried across the foyer?
He had only just relieved the guards from their duty—you had security detail at all times when he was absent—and up until then, the huge gate at the entrance of his estate had been locked up tight for the night.
Nothing could've gotten in... and he certainly would've sensed danger if someone were trying to escape.
Tired of supposing, he simply pushed the door open, eyes widening and breath hitching at the sight that greeted him.
"Surprise!" you exclaimed, smile blinding as you happily jumped out from behind a decorative table. "Welcome home, Kuri!"
Somehow, the house had been turned into some sort of makeshift honeymoon suite, the lights dimmed and walkways lined with rose petals and candles, incense filling the room with a light haze, which smelled of sandalwood and jasmine.
To his right was a small, candlelit dinner for two, sashimi and beef tataki lining the plates along with two glasses of premium wine to match.
To his left was a flowery trail leading right upstairs, the soft hum of a music transponder snail adding to the atmosphere as it played lowly in the background.
And there, at the middle of it all, was you...
Katakuri's heart practically stuttered to a stop, eyes widening slightly as he caught sight of your soft form.
You stood shyly, delicious curves on display in the very nightgown you had tried—and succeeded—seducing him in during your first merienda together.
Your hair, freshly washed, cascaded beautifully over your shoulders, framing your face and slightly shading your eyes in a way that gave his hands an itch to rake through it.
Not to mention your newly-lotioned skin glowing in the soft candlelight, making you look so smoothe and soft and primed for holding.
"(y/n)..." he started, both confused and painfully aroused, as he shut the door behind himself, locking it. "What... are you doing?"
You faltered, an awkward expression settling on your face.
"Being... romantic?"
Katakuri paused a moment, waiting to see if you'd change your answer, before a dark tinge of blush began to burn on his cheeks.
Instantly, your face flushed, embarrassment beginning to sink in at his silence.
Your worst fear had been realized.
"Oh, my God, you hate it," you muttered, utterly mortified as you clasped a hand over your mouth.
Something had told you to ask him first rather than make it a surprise, but you just had to get excited and jump the gun.
And now you were paying the price.
"What? N-No!" he stumbled, not wanting you to get the wrong idea. "I don't hate it... I'm just..."
He let out a heavy sigh, shrugging off his cloak and scarf, hanging them up on the rack before starting toward you.
"This was unexpected, is all."
Nervously, your lip jutted in a slight pout, your eyes avoiding all contact with the man as he moved closer.
"I thought you deserved something nice after being away for so long... since this is the first time we've been apart," you limply explained, turning away from him. "But I guess it's all kinda cheesy..."
As he moved to stand in front of you, Katakuri's forefinger and thumb came up to hold your chin, turning you to face him where you were met with a soft kiss to your hairline.
Your eyes widened, and as quickly as he came, he left, leaving you slightly stunned.
"It's sweet," he corrected, thumb smoothing over the skin of your cheek. "I can tell you put a lot of effort into this"
You perked up at the last part, turning to him eagerly, eyes glinting with hope.
"Really?" you asked, sounding surprised, your expression downright adorable.
Suddenly, the music, the clothes, and the absolutely tantalizing scent of you began to work their magic on him.
All of his thoughts and reason faded into thin air as he stared into your gorgeous, doe eyes.
"Really," he confirmed, voice low and wanting.
And you could only let out a tiny gasp as he pulled you in, pressing his lips against yours to finally claim you after all this time.
You went completely slack in his hold, sinking into the kiss with another small gasp as his tongue parted your lips.
Finding a hold on his shoulders, your hands clung tightly to him, moving to press your body against him as much as humanly possible.
Your craving for more of him was cut short as he broke the kiss, pulling away from you as he cupped your face.
His thumb ran softly over your lips, leaving you unable to respond, still dumbstruck by his sudden burst of confidence.
His hand moved gently down your neck, sliding the strap of your nightgown down your shoulder ever so slightly, you letting out a timid whimper.
Katakuri's face looked to yours as you turned away, embarrassed by the noise that escaped you.
He flushed from ear to ear, pleasantly surprised.
You pouted, lips pursed as you pulled the general in by his shoulders, "Kuri..."
Your lips crashed against his with need, pouring every ounce of feeling you harbored for him all this time.
His arms wrapped around you, and before you knew it, you were in your shared bedroom, falling onto the ginormous mattress with a soft creak, his body completely enveloping you.
Katakuri's tongue played with yours as your hands moved across each other's skin, exploring places they already knew and places they'd never touched in a more passionate way.
The man completely slid the straps of your nightgown off your shoulders, sitting up just enough to help you pull it over your head.
With hooded eyes, he watched as your breasts bounced out, wasting no time in taking one into his mouth.
You let out a breathy moan, back arching to accommodate him, hands running through his hair.
Though, suddenly, he stopped, pushing himself up on his hands as looking down at you.
Panting, you tilted your head while looking up at him.
"What's wrong?"
He shook his head, as if he was in deep thought.
"I usually wake up by now..."
Heart melting, you broke into a smile, sitting up to meet him and pull him back into a kiss.
Breathing against his lips, you cupped his face gently.
"M'not goin' anywhere, Kuri. I'm right here."
The general let out a quiet exhale, kissing you softly before moving down to your neck.
Shivers ran through your whole body, thighs clenching tight and craving more friction.
Slowly, he shifted your legs apart to kneel down between them, pulling off his gloves with his teeth before flippantly tossing them aside.
You felt a flush roll over your entire body, entranced with the look he gave you as he intensely eyed your form.
He kissed the palm of your hand, then your wrist, working his way down your arm and then back to your lips.
You wrapped your arms around him as he slid his hand down your stomach and into your panties.
Your breath caught in your throat, clinging to him helplessly as his fingers rubbed between your wet folds. Then, after a little searching, circled gently around your clit with the rough pads of his calloused fingers.
Katakuri continued to kiss you, drowning out your moans and gasps, devouring your lips as if he was finally able to sate a ravenous hunger.
He couldn't get enough, the way your tongue felt against his, the sound of your hitched breathing, and the way your whole body quivered as he teased between your legs.
His fingers slipped down inside of you again, feeling your cunt clench around the two he prodded you with.
"Breathe," he purred against your mouth, his voice a tone you had never heard him speak in before.
It made you tremble, raking your nails over his back.
Katakuri let out a small hiss, loving the feeling they left over his skin.
He continued to tease and please the surface of your skin, kissing you everywhere he was able to reach.
Until you couldn't take it anymore.
Cupping his face and bringing him back to your lips, you kissed him with all the intensity you could gather.
When you pulled away, you gave his lower lip a small nip, then laid back against the plush comforter.
"Kuri, please..." his eyes went slightly wide, and you noticed his breath hitch, "...fuck me."
There was a fire behind his eyes as he removed his fingers from you.
He gripped your panties to pull them off, but when they didn't move immediately, Katakuri let out a frustrated growl, and pulled until they ripped in two like tissue in his hands.
You stared at the frayed fabric a second, too dumbfounded to even react.
The way his muscles flexed during the act of ripping your clothes made you feel as if you were gushing like a geyser.
...But that was still a very expensive set of panties.
"I'll buy you more," he stated, already predicting what you were going to say.
He cast the shreds of your clothes aside and began to slide out of the rest of his own, shrugging off his leather vest and kicking off his boots before pulling down his pants and removing his boxers.
Finally, the two of you were naked in front of each other for the first time.
You both just stared at each other, him on his knees, and you now propping yourself up on your elbows.
Katakuri eyed you up and down, the flush across his face and ears seeping down to his upper chest and shoulders.
It seemed as if he'd stopped functioning, taken by your actual living, breathing form beneath him.
He bent down at the waist, touching your hip as he swallowed hard, suddenly incredibly nervous.
You also felt heat rising through your body, now feeling shy as you were truly exposed in front of the man you had fallen for.
His intense stare was driving you wild, but you could also see the gears in his head grinding to a halt.
He was trying to hide his nervousness.
In an attempt to soothe him, you sat up, running your hands over his shoulders with a comforting smile.
"You all right, Kuri?" you cooed softly, the man feeling your touch and instantly calming down.
The red in his cheeks sunk deeper at his nickname, and he swallowed hard, "You're... so beautiful, (y/n)...
He touched your face, his eyes heavy and dark with desire, only reflecting you at this distance
"I don't want to hurt you..."
Reassuringly, your nose rubbed against his, spreading your legs a little more for him as he shifted his hips naturally into place above your own.
Both of your breathing picked back up, lips brushing tentatively, the dam of passion quickly filling back up and beginning to spill over.
"You won't," your body shivered as he slipped a hand between you both, lining up the head of his cock with your wet slit.
Katakuri grit his teeth as he slowly pushed himself in. Your head threw back with a throaty mewl as your fingers dug into his shoulders, sliding them down over his inked chest.
He was far bigger than the one or two others you had in the past, but it didn't take much or long before he had you filled to the brim with all he had to give.
After a few deep breaths from you both, you adjusted to his size, but still let out a shocked moan as he rolled his hips gently into yours.
The movement caused your walls to flutter around him, a small shock of pleasure pulsing through your body.
It was the smallest of movements from him, but you already craved more.
You pulled him in for another heated kiss, moaning into his mouth as he began a slow place with his thrusts.
Breaking the kiss, Katakuri buried his face in your neck, groaning loudly.
"F-fuck, you feel... so good—" his moan was caught in his throat when you shifted your hips to give him a better angle.
His thrusts became deeper with the new access, your eyes rolling in the back of your head.
The general kissed and sucked along your neck and collarbone, adding to the sensations you were already feeling, knowing you would be covered in marks by morning.
You lifted his face to look at you as you gasped out for him.
"Kuri... please..."
Placing a peck on your lips, he nodded as he took a moment to shift the two of you slightly, sitting up on his knees and lifting your hips with him, your upper back rubbing harshly against the cover of the comforter.
He wrapped your legs around him, running his rough palms up and down your thighs a few times until his hands gripped your hips.
Without warning, his cock drilled more harshly inside you, hearing a loud smack as his hips made contact with yours.
Fingers digging into his hands, your eyes rolled back again as he began a whole new assault on your soaking cunt.
Again and again and again, he pounded against you with such force you had to brace yourself against the mattress.
Katakuri fucked you hard and raw, picking up speed the louder your moans got, quite thankful that you'd let all the staff go for the night—he didn't sense a single soul in the house save for you two.
Your legs struggled to keep tight around him, nearly flailing as your toes curled and feet kicked.
Right there.
You felt your orgasm building closer and closer to a sweet peak that you had been chasing, craving, cying out for.
Your eyes met his as he licked his lips, knuckles white against your hips as he sprinted you both to the finish line.
He was a man possessed, desiring only you and the pleasures your bodies brought.
Neither of you could form the words, but the look on his face told you everything he wanted as if you could hear him speaking the words.
Cum for me...
Arching your back, you cried out loudly as you creamed around him, muscles and walls clenching harshly on his pulsing cock as you felt his hips begin to stutter, emptying deep inside you with a growl that matched your vibrato.
The world had gone white, feeling only the pressure of his cock twitching inside you and his fingers releasing your hips from his hold as bruises formed in their place.
Katakuri lowered them gently, still not removing himself as he looked you over, touching your face tenderly as he admired the marks he gifted you.
You felt as if you were glowing, and from his perspective you were, your hair sprawled out and wild among the pillows, creating a natural halo around your head.
It was as if he had an angel beneath him...
His thumb brushed your lips, mesmerized that he gave you your current fucked-out and dreamy smile.
"I love you... so much..."
He held you tightly in his arms, the two of you enjoying the pleasure of each other's company well into the night.
And nine months later... your firstborn son, Soda, was born.
Catchie's World @catchdempaws - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
