forever is the sweetest con

she/they | 21 | minors dni

[earthtomia]

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╰┈➤ she/they | 21 | bi | minors dni

╰┈➤ currently into: project hail mary & the mandalorian

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[queenofslowburn]

It's getting tight

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader (no use of n/y)

Summary: When a mission goes a bit sideways, you suddenly find yourself stuck with Din in a hideout that allows little to no movement, leaving you in a precarious situation - between his legs.

Warnings: +18, MDNI, took the locked room trope to its farthest edge, oral (m receiving), praising, the helmet stays on, forced orgasm if you squint?

A/N: this is the result of a trope survey I did, Din Djarin & locked room came in second. If you are interested in the others just follow the link.

wc: 4.8k

My Pedro-Character-Masterlist

This was… a predicament, to put it mildly.

You crouched inside a storage cavity that clearly had not been designed with a human occupant in mind - certainly not two of them. The narrow compartment smelled faintly of machine oil and old dust, the metal walls pressing close on every side as if the space itself resented your presence.

One person would have been uncomfortable.

Two was a logistical nightmare.

Especially when one of those people insisted on wearing an entire arsenal of beskar plates that stole what little room existed.

Every minor adjustment from Din Djarin produced the faint scrape of metal against durasteel.

You clenched your jaw.

“Would you hold still?” you hissed under your breath, trying to shift your position for the tenth time and failing just as miserably as before.

The helmet tilted slightly toward you.

“Quiet,” he shot back immediately, voice low and edged with the same irritation while looking down.

Very much down.

Because while the two of you had been sprinting through corridors trying to shake the men chasing you, this tiny hiding place had appeared during a frantic scan of the hallway. Without pausing to debate the idea, Din had grabbed you by the arm and shoved you inside.

He followed a heartbeat later.

The security panel had slid shut with a quiet thunk.

Only then had the reality of the situation become clear.

The space was barely large enough for one adult standing upright. With both of you inside, it became an exercise in awkward geometry.

Din stood with his back pressed firmly against the sealed panel. One armored arm braced against the wall in front of him, creating a makeshift support so he wouldn’t lose his balance in the cramped quarters.

At least he was standing.

You, on the other hand…

You lifted your gaze slowly.

From the floor.

From where you were kneeling.

Directly between his legs.

“Oh, don’t you dare tell me to be quiet,” you muttered sharply, craning your neck to glare up at the visor. “You’re the one who got us into this mess in the first place.”

Technically speaking, you were right.

Months of working together had built enough trust that when Din proposed the job, you hadn’t questioned it much.

An easy contract, he had said.

Quick entry. Quick exit. Minimal guards.

Simple.

Every single part of that description had turned out to be spectacularly wrong.

The artifact storage facility had recently made local news - something neither of you had learned about until far too late. Apparently publicity had inspired the owners to double their security.

What should have been a short operation had turned into a crawling nightmare.

Air vents.

Abandoned wastewater tunnels.

Forgotten maintenance corridors that hadn’t seen maintenance in decades.

The two of you had spent hours creeping through the guts of the building just to reach the prize.

Still, the effort hadn’t been wasted.

Your hand instinctively brushed your pocket.

Inside rested the object you’d come for: a Kyber Resonance Shard, a fractured piece of crystal rumored to hum faintly with residual energy when exposed to certain frequencies. Collectors paid absurd amounts for relics tied even distantly to the old Jedi traditions.

You had managed to lift it cleanly from its display.

Unfortunately, the display had also triggered a silent alarm.

Minutes later the corridors behind you had filled with guards.

Not just a few.

Dozens.

The careful stealth of the mission had evaporated instantly. Instead of sneaking out quietly, you had been forced to fight your way through the first wave and run before reinforcements sealed the building entirely.

That was when the plan changed.

Getting out immediately had become impossible.

But hiding?

Hiding might buy time.

Eventually the guards would assume you had escaped the facility entirely. Once the search widened outside, slipping away would be far easier.

At least, that had been the theory.

Which was how you ended up here.

Wedged inside a maintenance cavity barely wider than a locker.

Kneeling awkwardly on the floor.

Directly between the legs of a fully armored Mandalorian bounty hunter who filled most of the remaining space.

You tilted your head again to glare up at the dark visor hovering above you.

“Yes,” you muttered under your breath, “this was definitely your brilliant plan.”

“Maybe you should’ve listened when I told you the alarm might trigger,” Din Djarin muttered sharply above you, the words low and tight through the helmet’s modulator.

You snorted quietly.

“Helpful warning,” you whispered back. “Shame it arrived after I had already pocketed the shard.”

You shifted slightly on your heels, trying for the third time to relieve the pressure building in your legs. The cramped position forced your weight awkwardly onto your calves, and the metal floor beneath you was doing nothing to improve the situation.

Your muscles protested.

“Next time a meteor storm smashes into the Razor Crest,” you added dryly, “I’ll be sure to warn you afterward too.”

Din’s right foot nudged lightly against your leg.

You couldn’t tell whether the movement was meant as a quiet command to shut up - or simply an attempt for him to adjust his own balance in the ridiculous configuration the two of you had been forced into.

“If we get out of here,” you continued under your breath, shifting your weight again, “remind me to avoid any future jobs that involve stealing.”

The response came immediately.

“That from the master thief?” he said. Even without seeing his face, you could hear the faint crooked humor in his tone.

Months of working together had trained your ears well. You had learned to read the small inflections beneath the helmet’s mechanical filter. The subtle changes that meant he was smirking, even if the visor hid it completely.

You had seen that smirk before though.

More than once.

Because you have seen his face many times now.

The first time had been an accident - an unexpected glimpse of his face during a moment neither of you had planned.

The second had been necessity, when he’d taken a nasty hit and removing the helmet had been the only way to patch him up properly.

The third…

Well.

That had happened in the narrow bunk aboard the Razor Crest, sometime after both of you decided that surviving too many dangerous jobs together had earned you a more… relaxed way of blowing off steam.

Originally, the partnership had been strictly professional.

Lately, things had become a little more complicated.

“I wouldn’t mind switching back to bounty work,” you murmured, glancing up toward the dark visor. “You know I’m better at luring targets out than you are.”

A faint pause followed.

Then he replied quietly, “A little too good at it.” The final word slipped out in the soft cadence of Mando’a. “Mesh’la.”

Thankfully the darkness inside the cramped storage compartment hid the warmth that crept across your face.

You had never asked him exactly what the word meant.

Something affectionate, you suspected.

Something he said with an ease that made it feel… oddly intimate.

Even filtered through the helmet, the sound carried a certain weight.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Din,” you whispered, voice tilting playfully. “Is that why you picked this miserable job? So I wouldn’t be flirting with half the galaxy while we worked?”

Your hand lifted almost absentmindedly, sliding along the side of his leg. The motion was half reassuring, half teasing as your fingers traced lightly over the armored plating before settling there.

“Focus,” he said quietly. But the word lacked its usual bite.

“Not much focusing I can do down here,” you replied softly. “We’re stuck waiting. Let me keep my sarcasm - it helps pass the time.”

Outside the sealed panel, the facility remained silent for the moment. No footsteps. No voices.

Still, both of you kept your voices low.

Better safe than discovered.

“You could start thinking about buyers,” Din said after a moment. “Once word spreads that the artifact disappeared from a secure facility, the list of interested collectors will shrink fast.”

You shrugged lightly, the movement barely noticeable in the cramped space.

“Let that be my headache.” He knew you would handle it. You always did. “You,” you added, glancing up again, “just focus on choosing our next job with a little more care.” A faint smirk crept into your voice. “I don’t mind spending time alone in a room with you,” you murmured. “But this setup? Less appealing.”

Your gaze lifted.

The visor angled down toward you.

“Think so? I can’t say the view is terrible.” There it was again - that invisible grin you had come to recognize.

Your hand, still resting on his shin, slid a little higher along his thigh. Your fingers tightened briefly in a light squeeze.

“Careful,” you murmured. “You know I like pushing my luck.”

“Focus,” he repeated again, though the command sounded slightly rougher now. “We need to be ready to move the second an opening appears.”

His tone still carried its usual seriousness. But there was something else hiding beneath it. A quiet thread of tension.

“I can focus just fine,” you said softly. “I’m practically meditating down here. Feeling like a damn Jedi.”

You shifted again, trying to relieve the ache building in your legs.

As you moved, you rolled your neck slightly - 

 - and accidentally brushed your head against his crotch.

The reaction was immediate.

Din shifted abruptly, a quiet hum escaping him through the modulator as he instinctively pulled back where little to no space was left.

You blinked, then slowly looked up. A wicked grin spread across your face.

“Well now,” you murmured, lips parting slightly. “Don’t tell me…” Your voice dropped to a playful whisper. “Din Djarin,” you teased, “are you actually getting turned on by this?”

You didn’t wait for an answer.

Instead your hand moved higher along his thigh, slipping beneath the edge of the segmented armor until your fingers found the softer resistance of the flight suit beneath. The fabric was warm from his body heat, taut where it stretched across muscle. You let your palm settle there for a moment - just long enough to confirm what your instincts had already guessed.

And there it was.

A slow, unmistakable firmness growing beneath your touch.

Your mouth curved slightly.

Well. That answered that.

“Cyar’ika…” Din’s voice dropped into a low rumble, the word dragged through the helmet’s modulator like a warning trying very hard to sound stern.

Except the tone betrayed him.

Half caution. Half something else entirely.

“What?” you murmured softly, fingers tightening through the fabric in a deliberate squeeze that completely contradicted the innocence of your question. “Should I stop?”

His breath caught.

“This is not the place,” he said, words slightly uneven now, “and definitely not the time.”

A faint inhale followed, sharp enough that he nearly stumbled over the last part of the sentence.

“Seems to me we’ve got plenty of time to kill,” you whispered.

Your hand didn’t slow.

If anything, the motion became more deliberate - testing, exploring his length through the layers of fabric while your eyes stayed locked on the dark visor above you.

Whatever sharp retort had been forming died instantly when your curious squeeze shifted into a slow, teasing stroke.

Din’s helmet tipped back against the wall behind him with a muted klonk. The hand braced against the opposite surface tightened, his fingers curling slowly into a fist as if he needed the pressure to steady himself.

“You really shouldn’t…” he muttered.

But the growl beneath the words lacked conviction.

It sounded less like a warning directed at you and more like something he was trying to remind himself.

Meanwhile your hand had already found the seam of the flight suit.

You slipped beneath it.

The moment your fingers brushed bare skin, Din’s hips shifted instinctively against your touch. A quiet roll forward.

A reaction he clearly hadn’t intended.

“You keep watch,” you suggested lightly, your voice barely louder than a breath, “I’ll keep you entertained.”

Your fingers wrapped fully around his cock now.

The muffled sound that escaped the helmet in response sent a small thrill down your spine.

You had seen Din without the helmet before. You knew the expressions he tried so carefully to hide from the rest of the galaxy - the tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes darkened when you touched him just right.

But this?

This was different.

With the helmet still firmly in place, you couldn’t rely on facial cues at all.

Instead you found yourself reading the language of his body.

Every small shift of muscle.

Every subtle change in the way he held himself above you.

The signals were clearer than he probably realized.

And right now they were telling you that you were very much on the right track.

His length twitched faintly in your grasp.

Yes.

Definitely the right track.

“You’re being reckless,” Din whispered after a moment, his head tilting slightly as if he was still trying to listen for sounds in the hallway beyond the hidden compartment.

“This entire mission has been reckless,” you replied with a quiet smirk. “I’m just staying consistent.”

Your hand moved again.

With a practiced motion you eased him free from the remaining fabric, the flight suit sliding aside just enough to reveal his length completely.

Especially from your low position you couldn’t help the brief flicker of appreciation that crossed your mind as he stood towering above you.

Your legs had been aching moments ago from the cramped kneeling position.

Now the discomfort barely registered.

You shifted slightly, adjusting your posture so you were better aligned with his cock in front of your face. Your gaze traveled upward for a moment before settling again on the task at hand.

Almost unconsciously, you wet your lips.

Your hand gave him a few slow strokes, deliberate and unhurried.

“You should stop,” he hissed quietly.

You smiled faintly.

“I haven’t even started yet.”

Leaning forward, you pressed a soft, almost reverent kiss against the soft skin of his tip.

The thing was,  you had never been particularly patient. The teasing kisses you had started with didn’t stay gentle for long. As you closed your lips around his tip you could feel a tension coiling through Din’s entire body and you could hear the change in his breathing.

The quiet restraint he usually carried with such discipline began to slip. A low sound escaped him - muted by the helmet but unmistakable.

Above you, his free hand found your hair. Just threading through the strands in slow strokes that felt almost absentminded, as if he was grounding himself in the sensation. The movement sent a clear enough signal on its own.

You were doing exactly what he wanted, that he did not want you to stop at all.

Encouraged, you took him in deeper, the tight space forcing you to adjust carefully as your tongue circled his soft skin. Din’s hand moved from the side of your head to the back of it as you leaned in further, the grip tightening just slightly as instinct took over.

For a moment the two of you went completely still.

The closeness of the compartment left almost no room for movement anyway. The faint hum of machinery somewhere inside the walls vibrated through the metal around you while you both adjusted to the new position.

Din’s breath hitched again.

“Mesh’la…” The word slipped out rougher this time, dragged low through the modulator as he looked down at you. The dark visor tilted slightly, studying you in the dim light filtering through the vent.

“You look… perfect like this.”

The praise landed like a spark and a shiver ran through you.

Your hand slid higher along his thigh to steady yourself while the other braced against the wall behind you. Slowly you began to move your head, careful in the cramped space, finding a rhythm that worked despite the awkward positioning.

You slowly started to move your head, taking him in just an inch more before rolling back, catching a breath. Spit glistened on your lips and his soft skin, even in the shady dark light of this makeshift hideout, the air inside the compartment growing thick and humid as the seconds stretched.   

Your own pulse had begun to race now and heat coiled low in your stomach. You could feel the wetness between your legs growing although he did not even touch you fully.

It was almost frustrating to realize there would be no space for him to return the favor here - not with the two of you wedged together in a compartment barely big enough to breathe in. Not to speak of the lurking danger outside.

But you had no doubt, the moment you made it back to the Crest, he would remember exactly how to repay you. And different to now he would take his time with you.

For now though, the focus was entirely on him.

Din’s grip tightened slightly in your hair as you relaxed your jaw just a bit more, to take him up to the hilt. Before you could settle fully into your pace, he guided you forward with a firm pressure at the back of your head, pulling you closer with a sudden urgency that stole your breath for a moment.

“You take me so well,” he murmured. The words vibrated through the helmet’s modulator, sending another shiver down your spine. Your lungs protested briefly at the fullness, but your mind was far too focused on the effect you were having on him to care much about that.

Just before the pressure became too much he eased the hold, letting you pull back enough to breathe again.

You inhaled deeply before leaning in once more, eyes slipping closed as you focused on the rhythm he gave you. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his flight suit for balance as you let your tongue explore his full length, feeling every vein and twitch. He felt impossibly hard now and you longed for the moment back on the ship when he would bury himself in you, hips rolling in that infuriating slowness he always used to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

Above you, Din’s movements became less controlled now. The subtle tension running through his body and the twitching of his cock told you everything you needed to know.

“I’m almost there, cyar’ika,” he breathed quietly. Then his helmet tilted downward again. “Look at me.”

You obeyed immediately, lifting your gaze to the dark visor looming above you. Your jaw softened slightly, preparing yourself for the moment - 

 - but suddenly he froze.

Every muscle in his body went rigid.

A sound echoed faintly from the hallway beyond the hidden compartment.

Footsteps, distant enough but approaching.

The situation became instantly absurd.

You were kneeling in a cramped maintenance cavity, his cock buried deep in your throat, both of you frozen in complete silence while someone walked somewhere nearby beyond the sealed panel.

Din held himself perfectly still, his grip tightening in your hair in a silent command to stop. To wait.

You felt it.

You understood it.

You ignored it. Your tongue moved again in a teasing flick against his underside and his throb told you how he ached for the sweet release. A strangled hiss slipped through the modulator.

The footsteps grew slightly louder as they passed somewhere down the corridor.

Din’s fingers clenched in warning. Not yet pulling you away, but very clearly telling you to behave.

You didn’t.

Your hands slid around the backs of his thighs instead, gripping firmly just beneath the curve of his backside. Then you pulled him closer, deeper, stealing your own breath, all while keeping your gaze fixed on him.

That was all it took.

Din’s head fell back against the wall with a silent thud as the tension snapped.

The insulation of the compartment and the distant machinery thankfully swallowed most of the sound. Outside, the footsteps continued past without slowing.

Inside, you had no choice but to hold steady as the wave finally broke and he spilled into your mouth, his warm cum coating the back of your throat and dripping down.

True to his earlier command, you kept your eyes lifted to the visor above you as you swallowed around his cock, taking every drop of him.

His fingers dug sharply into your hair now, the pressure almost painful as he fought to stay quiet through the release that rolled through him.

The footsteps faded down the corridor.

Only once the silence returned did Din finally exhale.

The breath came out slow and shaky.

After a moment he carefully pulled his still hardened length away, the movement making his tip bump lightly against your lips as he straightened.

“You…” he muttered, voice still rough. “…are an absolute menace.”

You leaned back slightly, licking the corners of your mouth before flashing him a satisfied grin.

“Happy to be of service.” You gave him a small, mocking nod.

With practiced hands you helped Din straighten himself back into the flight suit, smoothing the fabric into place before giving the front of it a light, almost condescending pat.

“Good as new,” you murmured under your breath.

The grip he had held in your hair finally loosened. Instead of the sharp hold from moments ago, his fingers slid through the strands in slow strokes, brushing your scalp before drifting down along the side of your face, tilting your face upwards by the chin. The gesture carried none of the urgency from earlier - just quiet warmth.

“We’re going to have a conversation about your sense of risk assessment once we’re back on the ship,” he said after a moment. Even through the helmet you could hear the grin in his voice. “Can’t take you anywhere.”

“Speaking of taking me places,” you said, nodding toward the sealed panel behind him, “you think things have cooled down out there yet?”

“I certainly have,” he replied dryly. The helmet tilted slightly as he listened for a moment, the faint sounds of the facility humming through the walls around you. “Seems quiet enough. Might be our best window.”

He glanced down toward you.

“Can you get it open again?”

Your lockpicking kit was still tucked safely in your pocket. After all, the panel had sealed itself automatically once you had picked it the first time and Din had shoved you inside. Your part of the job hadn’t exactly ended when the door closed.

You pulled the tools free with a quiet clink.

“What exactly are you contributing to this mission again?” you asked with a crooked grin.

Din awkwardly stepped over you in the tight compartment so you could shift forward, bracing yourself on your knees while you reached the panel controls.

“Because as far as I remember,” you continued, sliding the picks into place, “I handled the theft, the lockpicking, and the tension relief.”

Behind you he shifted his weight against the opposite wall.

“I’m making sure no one stands between us and the ship so I can repay you,” he replied calmly.

The panel hissed softly as the locking mechanism disengaged beneath your tools.

He leaned closer.

“Now hurry up,” he added quietly, “before I make you.”

You didn’t need further encouragement. You scrambled to your feet quickly - only to wobble immediately as your legs protested the long minutes spent kneeling.

Pins and needles shot through your calves.

“Stars,” you muttered, shaking them out. “Did the Jedi deal with this kind of thing all the time?”

Din didn’t slow.

“Less talking,” he said simply. His hand closed around your wrist and pulled you forward down the corridor. “More moving.”

Waiting had been the right call.

The frantic security sweep from earlier had thinned considerably. Most of the guards had clearly moved their search elsewhere by now, likely assuming you had already slipped off the premises.

Still, the path back to the exit wasn’t completely empty.

Twice you had to flatten yourselves against shadowed corners as patrols passed nearby.

Twice Din handled the problem when stealth alone wasn’t enough.

Before long the familiar shape of the Razor Crest appeared waiting at the edge of the landing platform like an old friend.

You sprinted the final stretch. By the time the ramp lowered you were already breathing hard.

Din reached the cockpit first, vaulting into the pilot’s seat as the startup sequence flared to life across the control panels.

You stumbled up into the cockpit seconds later and dropped into the copilot chair beside him, chest still rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.

But the grin on your face refused to fade.

From your pocket you produced the prize.

The Kyber Resonance Shard caught the cockpit lights as you tossed it lightly into the air and caught it again.

“Well,” you said, leaning back slightly as the engines hummed louder beneath your feet, “that was an experience.”

You flipped the shard once more.

Din said nothing. His gloved hands moved across the controls with steady precision, initiating the final departure sequence.

The ship lifted smoothly from the platform.

You glanced sideways at him.

“What do you think this thing will sell for?” you asked, turning the crystal between your fingers.

Still nothing.

A small flicker of unease crept into your thoughts. Had you pushed too far earlier?

You cleared your throat. “Maybe we should take more breaking-and-entering jobs,” you added casually.

You tossed the shard again - 

 - but this time Din’s hand shot out and caught it midair before you could.

The motion was so quick it left you blinking.

Without looking at you, he engaged the hyperdrive controls with his other hand. The Crest lurched gently as it entered hyperspace, the blue tunnel of stars stretching across the viewport.

Din turned the crystal over once in his hand. Then set it on the console. Only after that did he rise from the pilot’s seat. His broad silhouette loomed over you.

“Bunk,” he said.

Just one word.

No humor left in it.

The tone wasn’t angry.

But it was unmistakably an order.

And stars help you - you obeyed it eagerly.

You were out of the copilot seat in a heartbeat, heading down the narrow corridor toward the sleeping quarters.

Behind you, heavy footsteps followed.

You reached the bunk and climbed inside just as the familiar sound echoed through the small cabin - 

The quiet hiss of a helmet seal disengaging.

Your grin widened.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you stretched out on the mattress and looked toward the doorway with open anticipation.

You had worked with Din long enough to know exactly how this was going to end.

He always believed in settling the score.

My Masterlist

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[outtathisworld-imagines]

Slave 4 U

—🚀—🚀—🚀—🚀

Pairing: Din Djarin x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut! MDNI (18+), Oral, intercourse, fingering- mild BDSM, slight sensory deprivation, masterbation, swearing, unprotected sex- pls wrap before you tap. Not proofread 🥲

A.N: inspired by the iconic Slave 4 U song by Britney Spears enjoyyyyyyy ❤️‍🔥

Please let me know what else you guys would like! I do have a few other fics on the back-burner (for now!) that I'll start to post soon and just let me know if you'd liked to be tagged in further works too ✨

——🚀——🚀——🚀——🚀——

When you finally came to, it was with a throbbing headache and a chill over your skin. There were faint streams of light pouring into the room you were on the floor of but otherwise it was dark. Your hands sunk into plush fabrics- far too glamorous for the room that you were in.

You then slowly sat up, brows furrowing at your attire- or lack of since you were in virtually nothing but underwear. The soft clinking noise that came from your wrists confused you even more, bounded and chained from the wall.

“What in the stars…” you muttered. Doors opened and you jumped, curling up as far as you could on the bed and pulling the fabric to cover you as best as possible.

“She’s awake.” The person by the opened door called out before sending you an intense glare. “We will bring you to him.” As they got closer, the further you tried to move away but they unlocked your chains from the wall and dragged you out your cell and through what felt like endless tunnels.

As you looked around, trying to understand where you were, the person handed you over to someone else. “The mighty Jabba The Hutt!” He bellowed as your chains were tugged upon and you fell to your knees as the Hutt dragged you towards him. You groaned and let out a gritted scream, pulling back and trying to fight against the unbeatable strength of Jabba. But it was no use.

The Hutt laughed at your helplessness, you eventually gave in once exhaustion took hold of your arms and couldn’t fight back anymore. The realisation settled in when you looked up to him, how you were betrayed by a trusted member of your Royal Court, the dull ache from your head still remained, remembering that something struck the back of your head.

“A debt. Handsomely paid.” Jabba laughed. “My newest prized possession. You will entertain me and others well.”

You looked down at the shackles on your wrists and sighed.

From a princess to prisoner.

—•—

Din did his very best to avoid any jobs tied to the Hutt family.

But when the transmission came through for how many credits he’d earn for completing a job for them, he and his morals couldn’t refuse.

Upon landing in the swampy atmosphere, he was greeted by a creature that commanded a check over of his ship and of him. “I was requested.” Din’s voice droned through his helmet.

“We cannot be too safe.” The creature explained before curtly nodding when Din was cleared. He walked through the endless tunnels of the palace, hand close to where his blaster was holstered as he kept his wits about him.

The doors opened and he was instantly greeted with Jabba looking down upon him, but what caught Din’s attention was at the end of chains that were being tightly gripped by him.

You looked up through heavy eyes, your heart starting to race with hope that someone was sent to rescue you- you didn’t know how many days it had been. He greeted Jabba and your heart sank, arms and head involuntary moving like a puppet as Jabba moved his while talking.

Din kept his body faced forward but his eyes remained on you the whole time, absorbing every single inch of you. He had never had the privilege of seeing someone like you before. It also helped the fact you were in next to nothing, suffocating Din in the swampy, humid atmosphere even more. He was thankful his helmet hid most of his ogling eyes and blushing cheeks.

“Ahh The Mandalorian. Have you accepted my task?” Jabba asked.

Din still had his eyes on you, not like anyone could tell from behind his mask. “I have.” He replied and Jabba chuckled, your body jolting at the reaction. It caused Din to swallow hard as he watched, his mind starting to wander.

If a gentle tug could cause your body to react like that, Din considered just what reaction he could have over it.

“Excellent. Credits will be paid upon your successful return.” He explained.

Din nodded once and placed his hands on his hips, thumbs laced under his belt. “Who’s your friend in the chains?” He motioned to you and your head snapped up. Din felt a chill down his spine the second your eyes met his helmet.

Jabba sinisterly smirked and pulled on the chains, dragging you to your feet before pushing you slightly forward towards the mandalorian. You almost tripped over yourself as you tried to scrape an ounce of modesty together enough to cover yourself as best you could as you faced the gaze of the man in the armour.

“A prized possession of mine. Bow.” He commanded as he tugged your chains and you complied. When you stood up straight again, Din noticed your eyes glossing over. Jabba pulled you back to him, the boy in the beskar armour noticed you grimace and wince in both disgust and pain. “She dances and entertains me and my guests so wonderfully.”

“I’m sad to not have the honour.” Din mentally kicked himself for his thoughts escaping.

“Perhaps upon your return.” Jabba suggested as you lay back down again with the same sad look upon your face that caused Din’s chest to become tight. Your silent plea for help having a hold on him.

“Perhaps.” Din repeated before turning on his heel and was about to leave, but an idea came to mind. “Or perhaps we could come to another arrangement, Jabba.” Din slowly turned around and sauntered forward again. “Instead of all those credits, I’ll accept her as payment.”

Your eyes widened and your body froze in place, arms ridged as Jabba laughed at the Mandalorians bold ask. “Bring me three more and I may consider.” He demanded.

Din looked at him and then to you again. He licked his lips together and smirked.

“Consider it done.”

—•—

You lay on the plush fabric and stared at the ceiling. Days had passed since you had been used as a bartering chip between Jabba and the Mandalorian.

You had heard tales of them.

The wonder. The bloodshed. The secrecy.

Never had you had the privilege to see one in the flesh. Much less request you as payment.

Your thoughts carried you away, what he would do if he was successful and took you away from the hell you currently resided in. You’d hope he would have felt the dismay radiate from you and have enough pity for you that he’d take you home.

Your thoughts then turned to who was hiding behind the mask, the face behind the voice. You wondered if he was handsome, you could already tell he was strong from how much his metal plates were practically bulging.

Your hand that was resting on your bare stomach slowly creeped down practically on its own to the barely there skirt, your fingers dancing over the fabric as you closed your eyes, heart slowly starting to beat faster as you thought of the mysterious Mandalorian and all the things he could do to you.

And then you took the plunge and slipped your fingers underneath your underwear and bit down on your lip. Your fingers sinking deeper into your folds as you thought of his voice in your ear, begging you to come undone for him, commanding you to do anything he wanted. You gasped as your pace gathered momentum, slowly releasing the tension that had wound inside you over him.

When you came crashing down from your high, sinking further into the fabric with a large grin your face, Din’s was just hitting his own over the thought of you in that skimpy outfit and bound up. That you were his prized possession instead.

“Dank farrik!” Din cursed as he came in the cockpit of his ship, trying to catch his breath as his ship floated in the depths of space. He melted into his seat and wiped the sweat away that began to bead on his forehead. “I need her.” He said to himself before becoming composed. To ensure this would be the case, Din was going to double what Jabba had asked for.

—•—

You were lying by Jabba one afternoon when the doors of the throne room opened and in walked the Mandalorian in a cool and calm manner. You sat up a little straighter and sent him a small smile, one that he almost fell to his knees over.

“Ah Mando!” Jabba bellowed, chains still in his hold. “You delivered and then some! More than we agreed.”

“All the more reason to consider my payment request.” He replied, the almost robotic voice sending a spark through your body. “Do we have a deal, Jabba?”

The Hutt took far too long internally debating with himself whether to let you leave or not. “I enjoy her company too much…” he replied. Din just about reached for his blaster ready to take anyone in his path out as your head fell in disappointment. Until Jabba spoke again. “However, considering how successful you were, and how many credits you’d want from me…she will cover our agreement. Our business is settled.”

You and Din let out a relieved sigh at the same time, a guard set you free and you almost ran to the Mandalorian. Your smile was short lived, when you looked down to your wrists, cool metal surrounded them. He had bound you. “It’s been a pleasure, Jabba.” He called out to him while looking at you like he was looking at his next meal.

“Until another time Mando. Enjoy your payment.” He darkly chuckled as Din left with you in his clutches.

“Seriously?!” You softly snapped as he pulled you along. “You’re as bad as him.”

“Amuse me until we get out of here. I’ll take them off once we get to my ship.” He lowly spoke, almost causing you to trip up. He did keep his word and the moment you returned to his ship, he unlocked the cuffs, his hands ghosting over the marks Jabbas left on your wrist. “Are you okay?”

You looked up to him. “I am now.” He nodded once and swallowed hard, trying to get a grip of himself until he was in the vastness of space at least. “Where are you going to take me?” You asked as he moved to the cockpit of his ship and told you to sit for take off. You did just that, Din smirked at your obedience. “I can tell you my home planet. I’d like to go home.” You asked softly.

“I’ll take you home.” Din replied before turning around to face you and lowering his voice. “But first, I gave up a lot of credits for you, you’re going to show me you were worth every single one.”

The pressure suddenly felt like it was pressing down on your scantily clad body when those words left his mouth and he sat back in his seat, spreading his legs apart ever so slightly.

A small smile appeared on your face, your head innocently tilting to the side. “How do you suggest I do that…Mando?”

“Fuck. Call me Din.” He choked out, not unnoticed by you, if you kept calling him that he would be over before anything even started. “Jabba said you danced. Dance for me.”

“Of course, Din…” you stood up, Din’s eyes capturing every glowing exposed inch of you. You rested a hand on his cold, armour clad shoulder as your moving hips transfixed him, his breathing becoming heavier. You continued before turning around and sitting on his lap, a soft groan leaving his helmet as his hands gripped onto his seat, his hands aching as his knuckles turned white.

He was almost convinced at this point that Jabba had killed him and his soul was in another universe far, far away.

You took one of his hands on your own accord and placed it on your stomach, Din inadvertently jutting his hips against your ass as you did which made you snicker. “Shit,” he hissed as you roamed the hand over your body, down your thighs and then up to your breasts. “I don’t even know your name,” his voice faltered. “I need to know your name.” Din whimpered when you grabbed his other hand and placed it on your thigh.

“It’s Y/N.” You replied and quickly stood back up, Din’s body eased slightly feeling the weight from you disappearing but he desperately started to miss you on him. Din reached his hand out to you, you bent down and took the top of his gloved hand between your teeth and pulled it off. “How much of you can I see?” You asked noticing his fingers frozen in place.

“Everything but the helmet.” He replied with a stoic voice. “I can’t let you see my face.”

“Shame,” you sighed and straddled him, taking his bare hand in your own and slowly bringing it to your metallic bra, your face close to his helmet. “I was hoping to sit on it.”

A low growl left Din’s throat and he gripped your breast harshly. “I didn’t say that couldn’t happen. I told you, Y/N.” Your eyes widened ever so slightly. “Every. Single. Credit.”

Din was swift to turn you around and push you forward to his bedroom. He tossed you down his bed, the sheets a lot more comfortable than what you had to endure recently. “I’m glad you were successful.” You admitted before he ripped the sheer skirt from you, his eagerness shining as much as his armour. Din was practically salivating at the sight of you sprawled out for him, your knees widening to accommodate him as he crouched between them.

“Take it off.” He demanded.

“Take what off?” You asked, batting your eyelashes as you wiggled your hips feigning innocence.

You heard him smirk under his helmet. “Everything that’s obstructing my view of what’s sure to be the best sight in the galaxy.”

“Just the Galaxy?” You teased him, reaching for the clasp of your bra.

“The whole damn universe.” He clarified as he watched your bra leave your body. Din just about choked at the sight and then about died when you removed your underwear.

“This is feeling quite one sided…” you coyly raised yourself up on your elbows. Din removed his other glove as a compromise.

He reached down allowing his fingertips to gently trace over your bare body, a trail of goosebumps followed his fingers. “You’re my prized possession now…” his voice almost turned dark. “Well, at least for the next while.”

“I could dance for you, let you take anything and everything from me each night. Let you take as much of me as you like.” With each word you said, a groan left Din’s lips. He was practically fighting with his boner at this point to chill and enjoy every single second he had of you. “Be a slave for you…” your musings made him moan. He was fighting the urge to rip his helmet off and kiss you.

You gasped your words back into your throat when without warning, plunged his finger into your pussy. “Fuck, so wet already and we are only just beginning…” he added another digit and your back arched at the sensation. Din gently thrusted his fingers in and out of your pussy, lavishing in the fact his fingers commanded such power over you. He watched with bated breath you writhing under him and pulled out just before you had a chance to enjoy yourself any further.

You loudly groaned in annoyance when he pulled back, but your furrowed eyebrows softened as you watched him tip up the bottom of his helmet to suck your juices from his fingers. “Try before you dive huh?” You half joked as he mewled in delight. Din cracked a smile at that.

“I’d bottle you up if I could and drink myself silly on the taste of your pussy.” He replied before standing up and removing his armour, his perfectly sculpted body leading to his perfectly matched cock. He watched your body vibrate in delight at the sight of him, he felt the heat rising from his cheeks to the top of his helmet.

“How will this work with that,” you pointed to the silvery elephant in the room.

“I have an idea.” Din reached down and ripped some fabric from the end of his sheets. “You won’t be tempted to rip it off will you?” He asked in a wary tone.

“That depends how much you want to get your credits worth.” You replied.

Din hummed and looked around, his eyes locking into something else that did lock. Only they would around your wrists. He bent down and picked up the cuffs “Hands behind your head.” He demanded. “I’m not afraid to bound you up if I need to.”

You held your hands complicity above your head and he bent over, his cock pressing to your thigh made you smirk- he was as eager as you. The cold metal sent a chill down your spine. “I’m not afraid to be bound up…” you reached up and planted a kiss to his helmet. He tied the ripped sheet over your eyes so you couldn’t see him.

Din then removed his helmet, a literal and physical weight ripped from his shoulders. He inhaled deeply, feeling like he could finally breathe. He bent down and whispered in your ear, you jolted ever so slightly feeling his hot breath fan over your skin. “Let me know if it’s too much.” He pressed a soft kiss between your cheek and ear before allowing himself to kiss the lips he fantasised about on his own and around his cock. You melted into one another, Din’s hands deeply roaming around your body as your own were desperate to break free.

He was seeing stars kissing you, his tongue twirling with your own as moans filled his confined bedroom space. “Din,” you moaned against his lips. “Let me give you your credits worth.”

He pulled back, brow furrowed in silent question. “How?” You didn’t answer him, you simply opened your mouth- wide.

Din smirked and got on his knees quickly, his cock aligning perfectly with your mouth as he moved his hips forward and felt the warm, wet heat of your mouth surround him. He looked at the ceiling as a gritted cry from sheer pleasure left his mouth, so much so that he shed a tear. He bucked his hips forcibly as you just about swallowed and sucked on his entire length

“F-f-sh-shit!” He cried “Shit, shit, shit! Y/N that’s so good baby, so fucking good.” Din gripped onto your tit and roughly massaged it. “Oh baby I can’t, I can’t cum yet!” He pulled away feeling himself getting closer to the point of no return. “I gotta taste you. I gotta let you cum first. You were stuck in that hell hole, I wanna make you scream my name and cum so viciously that you forgot you were ever there.” He said between breaths as he desperately scrambled to get in between your legs, peppering kisses over your body on the way down.

Din hoisted your thighs over his shoulders and didn’t give you a chance to recover from having him in your mouth before plunging into your pussy. You sunk deeply into his bedsheets, Din was praying that he’d be able to smell your sweet sent on them for weeks to come.

Or hoped that he would have the chance to have you cumming for weeks.

“Oh my stars, Mando!” You moaned and it reached his ears, only encouraging him further. He desperately lapped you up between breaths, moaning into your pussy and causing a surge of electricity through your body. Your legs twitched uncontrollably, the sensory experience creating an otherworldly effect in you. “Fuck,” you yelped. “Din your gonna make me cum.”

“Then cum,” he growled. “Every credit lost will have been worth it to have you cum on my tongue Y/N. Every. Single. Last. One.” He buried his face deeper, adding two fingers inside you for good measure.

You did just as he asked.

Vigorously. Vindictively. Viciously.

And ended up in a panting mess on his sheets as your orgasm dissipated into stardust and a smile.

“Thank you.” You shakily said.

Din smiled at the sight of you before him and reached up to kiss your lips, softly and with passion.

Then a sharp gasp left your lips as your back lifted from the bed feeling a sudden stretch of your pussy as his cock made itself at home.

“You thought I was done? Not until I cum in that perfect pussy of yours it isn’t.”

He gritted out as he was being squeezed tightly by your deep, wet heat. Din rutted his hips back and forth, haphazardly, desperately, gone.

Din felt like he was floating in space as he found the last ounces of strength within himself to finally warrant the release of his orgasm, spilling inside you and down the sides of your thighs. He finally pulled out from you after a few moments of enjoying the sensation of you around him.

Din kissed you and you kissed him back, a breathless request leaving your lips. “Can I touch your face?” You asked, gentle and cautiously.

You felt the removal of the metal restraints, your fingers tentatively moved to his face. He chuckled when you missed entirely and hit his shoulder. “Here,” he gently grasped your hand and brought it to his cheek, your other hand joining it “I’m here.” He softly spoke. He couldn’t remember the last time, if anyone even did, caress his face. He pressed a kiss to your palm, a gentle click filling the space that was filled with moans mere moments ago. “I’m here.”

“So am I.” You replied feeling every groove from joy, fear, sadness and happiness under your fingertips. You leaned forward and captured his lips once more, then again before you knew he had to place his helmet back on again. When he did, he removed your makeshift blindfold and you blinked away the stars you had been seeing.

Then reality filled the space as you lay on Din’s chest, he held you close. You could hear his heartbeat and then looked up, face hidden under the mask and the mystery under the armour half solved.

“I suppose I should get you home.” He said, sounding disappointed.

You hummed “I’m sure we can go the long way home if you promise we can include that on our journey.” Din squeezed you, a delighted grunt leaving his lips.

—•—

You fashioned a makeshift robe and bag out of fabric Din had given you, stuffing the remnants of your time in Jabbas palace in it. “Thank you for taking me home,” you pressed a kiss to his helmet before sitting down as he entered your planets atmosphere.

“Thank you for making my fantasy a reality,” Din said before cursing himself. “Ah dank farrik…”

You bit down on your lip. “What do you mean?”

“Well let’s just say I got a practice run in before taking the physical test…” you let out a soft snort and Din bit the inside of his cheek to try and not laugh.

“That’s alright,” you said as he landed to a group of delegates awaiting your arrival. He was confused over the crowd. “I got a practice run…or rather rub…in too.” Din breathed in a gasp and choked on it at your revelation.

He followed you out and everyone suddenly bowed. “Welcome back, Princess. We are thankful for your safe return.”

“You have the Mandalorian to thank for that.” You nodded back to him and he couldn’t help but tilt his head before standing slightly more rigid, unaware the was in the presence of a princess. “You’ll be seeing him often. Very often. I’m going to be utilising his services…” you walked forward and stopped in front of one sheepish looking delegates. “Starting with this one.” You turned to Din. “It was him who pawned me off to Jabba to pay his debt.” Din approached you and stood behind you defensively. “Do with him what you will.” He grabbed the man before he could run. You turned to him once more before he left. “Upon your return, you’ll be rewarded.”

“How many credits?” He played along, knowing well that credits weren’t even on the table.

“Oh I’ll ensure this, and any job you do for me, will be well compensated, Mando.” With a wink you turned on your heel, Din catching the glimmer of the bronze underwear set in the bag.

[petalsinblood]

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Summary: Din comes home all angry, and somehow he needs to relieve the stress.

Warnings: established relationship, MDNI (+18), dirty talk, unprotected p in v, helmetless Din, slight panty kink I guess, basically porn without plot

Word count: ~ 1,4k

Author's note: Basically this whole story was inspired by this single picture, where Din looks like, well.... I'll let your imagination wander. Also, @bergamote-catsandbooks thank you for reading it through for me, darling! Love you! 💜

Comments and/or reblogs are welcome!

“Din, what are you—” you can’t finish your sentence, the broad man in front of you getting dangerously closer, the door behind him closing with a loud hiss, increasing the tension.

You have never seen him come home so angry, so closed off, and your pulse gets quicker as his helmet hits the floor with a loud thud, his eyes trailing over your body like a predator eyeing up its next prey. His steps echo in the small room, you have to walk backwards, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed, and you almost fall back on the mattress.

“Get on the bed.” His voice rings, hoarse like he hasn’t used it in a long time, his tone low, and you can hear the pent-up tension, almost like a string that is ready to snap any time.

“Din, you just got home,” you try to argue, but he doesn’t have any of that, already on you.

His lips crashes against yours, his tongue finding it’s way into your mouth. Your hands fly to his shoulders, the metal cold under your palms, a stark contrast that only increases your want for him.

You let out a loud yelp when he suddenly pushes you backwards, and you bounce on the heavy and soft mattress. But you don’t have more time to think before you feel his gloved hands on your exposed ankles, tugging on them as he turns you onto your stomach. You grip the sheets to anchor yourself, trying to look back over your shoulder.

You feel his hand on the back of your neck, turning your head forward again. “Not now.”

“Damn you, Din,” you curse under your breath.

“Oh, but cyar'ika,” he starts, and you hear how he unbuckles his heavy belt behind you, letting it fall to the ground. Not long after you hear his zipper pulled down too, followed by a low groan, and the thought of him standing behind you with his cock in hand, looking down at you is just too tempting. His weight suddenly envelopes your body — heavier than any time before because of the armor — and you feel his breath next to your ear, his stubble a refreshing feeling against your neck. “You’re cursing me right now,” he continues, a slow roll of his hips against yours, the feeling of his length against your ass, and you are grateful that you only wear a thin underwear. “But in just a few moments you will say my name over and over again like a prayer, like I am your saviour.”

A moan leaves your lips at the sound of his words, knowing fully well that he is telling the truth.

His armor clinks behind you as he moves to straighten out. Cool air dances actoss the newly exposed skin of your back as he pushes the soft material of your shirt out of the way.

He falters behind you for a second, but he quickly composes himself, his hands finding the soft flash of your ass, kneading at them possesively. “Fuck, look at you.”

“Having some problems back there?” you ask in a soft voice, testing the waters by circling your hips back against his, a drop of his precum landing on your panties, staining it.

A low growl breaks out of him, and with a precise movement he reaches down, bunching up the soaked part of your underwear into a thin line before pulling at it gently, creating a friction on your clit that makes you cry out in pleasure. He repeats the same motion over and over again, and your knuckles turn white with the force you are gripping the sheets.

“Din,” you moan his name, reaching back to try to hold onto his covered wrist. Your hips were moving on their own accord, trying to find more friction.

“What do you need cyar'ika?”

“You. I need you,” you say desperately.

“Of course. You’re so needy, huh?” he chuckles, but he’s already pulling your panties to the side, lining up his cock at your entrance. Without a warning he buries himself inside you to the hilt, knocking all the air out of your lungs.

“You’re so tight,” he breathes, his hands gripping your hips, keeping you in place as he waits a few seconds until you adjust to the size of him.

When he feels your walls clench around him, he takes that as a sign, his hips slowly rolling back before crashing against yours again. Moans of his name fall more frequently from your lips, your head buried into the sheets, eyes closed as he picks up the pace and the strength of his thrusts, the cold metal of the plate on his thigh a stark contrast to the heat of your body.

He makes a slight change in his position, leaning a bit forward, allowing him to deepen his thrust even more, and you almost cry out when he hits that sweet spot that instantly brings pleasure. “There it is,” he murmurs under his breath, his next thrusts targeted exactly on that small spot.

You can feel your orgasm building by every passing second, and all you can hear is Din’s grunts behind you. The mattress moves rapidly under your combined weight, the springs of the bed creaking dangerously loud.

You can’t even warn him when your high crashes over you, only a loud whine leaving your mouth, your body shaking as the waves travel over your whole body. Din slows down his movements, letting you ride it out, his hand gently carressing your lower back.

When you calm down, and your legs are not shaking anymore, he starts to move again, chasing his own high. He sets a fast pace, but this time he lays over your body, metal chest plate against your back, forearms planted beside your head. His ragged breathing comes right beside your ear, and you reach back with one hand, fingers tangling into his hair.

You can sense when he gets closer to his own release, his thrusts becoming sloppier.

“I’m going to come,” he warns you, hips moving a few more times before he buries hinself fully into you, his cock twitching as hot ropes of his cum hit your walls. He leans his forehead against your shoulder, placing soft kisses on the covered skin.

“So what was this all about, hm?” you try to break the silence.

He slowly pulls out his softening cock with a low grunt, a low hiss also leaving your lips at the sudden loss of feeling him stretching you out. He stands at the edge of the bed, and you can finally turn on your back, looking at him properly.

Sweat is clinging to his skin as he starts to take off the heavy armor, dropping it to the ground like it worth nothing. He zips his pants back, leaving the button open as he pulls off his undershirt too, leaving him only in his pants. He kicks off his boots too before climbing back beside you.

“We had an argument,” he answers quickly, wanting to get over this as fast as he could.

“With who?”

“With the kid.”

You have to stifle a giggle, hand flying in front of your mouth, and he shoots you a glare that could kill.

“And who won in the end?” you ask curiously, already knowing the answer by the heavy sigh he lets out. He opens his mouth to speak, but you shush him, smiling as you look at him. “Wait, let me guess. Grogu won again, right?”

Din nods, and you finally let out the laugh that you have been keeping in. He sits up beside you, rolling his eyes at your behaviour. “I’ll be in the kitchen. Let me know when you finish having such a great time.”

He leaves you there like that, and you need a few minutes before you can compose yourself. Your eyes fall on the ceiling above you, and a last chuckle leaves your lips.

Din always told you that he would never let the kid win, no matter what, but even after just a few days you saw how the walls that he had built around himself started to fall, making him soften. And that’s how his soft side lets Grogu get away with it again, letting him eat another pack of his beloved blue cookies.

Taglist (let me know if you'd like to be added or removed from it): @shadowqueen2024, @bergamote-catsandbooks, @picketniffler, @harriedandharassed, @missadangel, @annwrites24, @misstokyo7love, @cozymochaa

[honeybunnyale]

Impatience l D.D.

w.c: 6.9k

t.w.: Smut, breeding kink, size kink, Angst, Din is taller and bigger than reader by a lot, Reader is “small” as in short bc I am short, Implied that Reader is at least mid-sized, Jedi!Reader, some Mando’a (is translated), descriptions of violence, misogyny, sexual harassment, Protective borderline possessive Din, Din has trauma and is anxious, and is horny, set after season 2, canon divergence

a/n: Please read all warnings before interacting. 18+ Only!!!! Ermmm lowkey some of the best smut I have ever written. So good. 

Summary: You have your first hunt with Din after the loss of Grogu; feelings were bound to come out. 

Starlight Masterlist

It’s been a minute since finding any solace in your Mandalorian. Grogu was gone and he took a piece of Din along with him, despite you still being there to try to make up for the heartache.

Picking up bounty pucks, using a banged up and old ship he had found “for the both of us” and leaving you behind on Nevarro for gods know how long until he comes back and repeats.

It was hard not to feel as if he was just itching to leave you any chance he had, as if he didn’t care about you anymore because Grogu had a better teacher now. He doesn’t really need to have a Jedi by his side anymore, watching over his foundling and accompanying him on his quest.

It was heartbreaking watching him limp to your small makeshift home, clutching his side, grunting with each step. He was slumped against his seat, taking deep breaths in as he attempted to catch his breath from his latest hunt. 

You stare from across the room, arms crossed as he hisses when he places his chest plate back onto his flight suit, just skimming over his tender wound.

He looks up from the too small common area sofa, spreading his legs and trying to find a comfortable position to relax. You were glaring and his whole body suddenly tenses, he straightens up again, leaning his forearm on his knees, the wooden coffee table Karga had gifted you not so long ago messy with discarded weapons. 

He feigns being okay, fighting the urge to not yawn or close his eyes, knowing he would fall asleep in an instant if he would allow that to happen.

Your gaze falls on his side for the last hundredth time, making you purse your lips in thought. He shifts uncomfortably in his seat, the cushion creaking from his weight.

You definitely need better furniture, something sturdier for when he comes back home from his jobs. For you, they might be just fine, for him though, it feels as if he were sitting in a child’s play set. You made note of it since you moved in, chiding him in the way he took over the whole couch with just his thighs after having him set up your bedframe down the hall. 

He’s working on getting enough credits to refurbish the place. Make it feel more like a home. Unless you didn’t see this place as his home. He hesitated to claim the space as his own. 

His head swirls. Your relationship has never been brought forth to discussion, and you basically live here more than he does with how he’s always scrounging around the galaxy most days of the month.

Was he a guest at your home? An absent partner? A nuisance? It only prompted him to want to leave again, providing more credits to distract himself from the thought of possibly meeting your rejection of a romantic union. 

“You need to be more careful with that thing,” you interrupt his thoughts with a soft murmur. You stood there in the small kitchenette so domestically, having turned on the small orange overhead light of the stove, hands tucked into your elbows as you watched him. He could still see the sleep on your swollen lips and eyes. Adorable. 

His head tilts in your direction, palms running up and down his thighs, preparing himself for the strain of standing. He almost scoffs at your tone. Scolding and full of worry. 

Thing. You hated the damn thing. It didn’t bring you any good memories, you’ve never even seen it be used for good in the first place.

But alas, your padawan days are still a mystery to him, his own youth was alluded to as well. He doesn’t pry into why you stare so blankly whenever he wields it, how you sigh when you hear it sing to life.

He nods, holding in a groan when he stands. You can see him struggle. You look down, avoiding thinking of the very same blade being sheathed through his stomach, like you’ve seen it be used against others. 

His side was badly injured a day before when he tried training with the darksaber, you had patched him up wordlessly the second he came in through the door, demanding him to put it away.

“I will be,” he says softly.

He strides slowly to stand in front of you, crowding you against the kitchen counter, his palm against your shoulder reassuringly. Your face softens, your hand lightly gripping his forearm and tightening when his thumb kneads the meat of your shoulder.

He can see the outline of your breasts, he had arrived when you had least expected it, only having time to pull on a shirt and shorts when your comm started beeping incessantly with the message that he had arrived.

You uncross your arm from your chest, almost immediately your nipples stiffen, pronouncing themselves against your thin shirt. He salivates, his throat constricting quickly as he swallows. It was cold, you didn’t seem to care.

You close your eyes, sighing shakily at the way his fingers press against your tense muscles. He throbs in his pants, imagining the sound coming from your lips not from the way he soothes you with his touch but from his lips enveloped over your tits, his tongue swirling at your pert and swollen nubs using his lips to suck more of your breast into his mouth.

He’d suck on them through your shirt if he has to, lift you onto the counter and make you scream his name with his thick fingers deep inside you.

He groans, just barely saving himself from full out moaning your name. Your eyes shoot open, your hands moving to his chest in concern, splaying your hand on him.

Fuck, he imagines you gripping his cock, tugging and not quite being able to wrap around it fully from how thick he was.

“You okay?”

Your hands travel downward, searching out for his just wrapped wound.  You had offered to try to heal him, but he knew you didn't really like using the force.  If anything, you avoided its use, you weren't one to rely on your "powers".

He steps back, his hands gripping your own to stop you from further inspecting him.  He sighs, looking down on you. 

“I have to go.”

Your face twists, your hands retract out of his grip and you're back to crossing your arms again. 

"I'm not helpless. You know that."

He does, frankly seeing you in action was always a pleasure. But your decisions these past few months have been anything but helpless. It seems as if your attachments made you careless at times, more willing to get into dangerous situations. Maybe the jetti were onto something with that. 

"Let me go with you."

Now he crosses his arms. He tilts his helmet about to refute but you step aside before he could.  You glance behind you, striding down the hall and to your bedroom. 

"I'll get my things."

For a few minutes he debates just leaving, but he knew that he would vex you if he did. He loathes even the thought of being subjected to your annoyance.  Your look of indifference would break him, he knew.

It was very obvious that you had just finished wrapping a breastband around your chest, you peaked from the doorway, your shoulders bare. 

"Which planet are we going to?"

He sighs, planting his hands on his hips and pointedly gazing at the floor the more you revealed yourself in the hall.

"Coruscant."

You make a noise from the back of your throat, a mix of disgust and irritation. He smiles beneath the helmet when he hears you shuffle back into the room, opening and closing drawers repeatedly, humming to yourself.

…

He loved watching you focus, as if you were in your element when you were on the hunt, like you were made to scout people out. 

Your head turned every so often as if you sniffed out the bad in people, your lips twisting in something akin to revulsion. It was menacing to say the least, especially when he had first asked you about it and you had responded vaguely.

I can tell who's a good person or not.

It was an oversimplification of things. You were gifted since your youth, one of the many reasons why you were being steered by your master into becoming a sentinel, someone who scouted the galaxy to snuff out the darkness. A guard of the temple in your downtime. 

He had nodded his head despite his confusion, wondering what category you had placed him in the moment you two met. He had assumed you were just a witch. You could always tell when things were going to go bad as if you could predict the future. You always knew what to say and how to act around anyone you came across with just by a simple shake of a hand.

Still, you always kept your composure, a seriousness that denied anyone entry into your true feelings.

He loved watching you focus, he was always left astonished by the way you planned, how you came up with ways to complete your goal the exact moment you take action.

Your reputation built, so much so that you had separated yourself from the guild so many years ago, almost as if you were too good to allow yourself to be given a couple hundred credits for your exceptional work. Some even say you worked for the resistance, senators, wealthy senators who would pay you for the job along with your silence. 

Despite himself he was also enamored with your mystery.  Especially since you were a rather niche person, only the wealthiest were able to afford your expertise, with the exception of a select few that no one had ever seemed to understand how they even made you agree for a meager hundred credits.

He later found out that most of those low credit pucks were from desperate families, some wanting their family members to be found, a lot of them trying to have their lost or taken children be brought home.

You grip his forearm, pulling him back a few steps. 

"Go back, I'll go front."

He tips his head, his body stiffening as you attempt to pull him to follow. He was already regretting bringing you with him. He feels his stomach drop at the thought of separation, his mind swirling with the endless possibilities that would result in your death, kidnapping or leaving. 

He starts to shake his head, but you grip the chin of his helmet tightly between your fingers. Goosebumps spring forth all over his body. Your fingers graze over his chin beneath the beskar, you rub your thumb over the end of his vizor.

"You'll be right there with me, don't worry."

You clear your throat at his lack of response. How he wishes he wasn't wearing his helmet at that moment. Your thumb would be running over his lips, just now he fights the urge to hunch over so that you could reach enough to cup the cheeks of his helmet.

Your hand lets go, you pat his chest and step back, embarrassed by how you most likely made him uncomfortable. He didn't even react, staying completely still as if you had cornered him against his will. 

"I'll go to the front of the building, you go back, yeah?"

He clears his throat, standing straighter and rolling his shoulders. 

"Yeah."

…

You didn't expect it to be so easy. Sure, you may have ordered a drink only to throw it on your bounty and light them on fire, but they were only glowing an illuminating blue for a couple of seconds.

The initial surprise of being lighted up was enough for you to disable him quickly.  He was on the floor, cuffed and shouting from the way the heel of your boot pressed harshly against his spine.

You didn't even have to go towards him, he just came up to you, asking to buy you a drink even if you already had one on hand. He spits curses at you now, trying to turn his head when threatening about the not so nice things he would do to you when he got out of your hold. 

"I'll kill you. You bitch!"

He's pulled to his knees, too preoccupied to notice the sound of clinking metal getting nearer. He only shuts up when the barrel of Din's blaster presses against his temple. 

He turns slowly, comically, forward, his head only reaching Din’s thighs.  He pales, his face almost turning a sickly gray. 

Some people might be a little ticked off. They might even feel offended at the way Din seemed to demand more respect out of people simply because he was a man, strapped with weapons and most of all a whole tank. 

At times it did bother you, how easier life might be if you weren't so small, if you didn't present yourself in ways that made people assume you were weak.

"Say that one more time. She doesn't need to bring you in alive," he practically growls.

The low voice travels around the now silent room, making its way towards your ears and through your body. You shiver.

A part of you, most likely the vile part of you loves the way he threatens violence for you so quickly. 

Makes life a little easier. 

Your bounty must have pissed his pants, he stood when you motioned him to, keeping his head down, avoiding bumping into the Mandalorian in front of him.

It was humid and hot at the drop off location, hidden behind an underground club, tables and chairs for each member of a gang and their members.

You take your jacket off and suddenly the room is at attention. Eyes are trained to your body, looks are thrown your way. You try to ignore the whistles and the hands reaching out in your direction. You would have put it back on, maybe you should have to make them stop but you didn't want to seem as if you were backing down for them.

Din shoves the bounty harshly, making him fall to the ground, scraping his knees and hands from how hard he was thrusted forward.

Your hand grazes his arm when you step forward, urging him to pay the unsavory words no mind. His anger was building steadily, and you knew that sooner or later his patience would run out.

The boss sways the bag of credits to your face teasingly, you stare at him, keeping yourself from scowling. His breath stings your nose, you fight back an instinctive recoil as he presses a finger to his cheek, asking for a peck. At your lack of response, he lets the credits fall from his hands, you barely caught it, smiling sarcastically as you step back. 

You have the urge to sigh in relief, walking away and making it back to the ship in one piece.

"You willing to share her, Mando?"

He stops. Your shoulders tighten. You couldn't grip his hand before he had turned around and strode over to the table. 

"What the hell did you just say?"

Things spiraled from there, one second you were inches from the door, the next everyone was starting to come at you both because he had decided shooting one of them in the chest was enough of a tradeoff for their bosses question.

"Go! Now!" Din had yelled from behind. 

You had been able to get to a hidden corner, away from blaster fire and out of sight. You curse loudly, your heart starting to beat so quickly you felt it against your ribcage. Din was surrounded, you knew he was staring into the floor, avoiding looking in your direction. 

Their blasters and weapons were pointed at him, his hands were raised in surrender.

"Take him. Look for the other one." 

Din lightly shakes his head when you start to crawl over, his helmet picking up the ruffling of your pants, crouching low behind some crates. This always happens, one of the two of you being caught or trapped, the other having to save the other. 

But your idea of resolution has changed. Plans were more erratic, you were more aggressive, actions were taken without being properly thought out. The old you would have waited, have them lead you to where they thought they were safe and lowered their guard. 

The present you wanted to pounce the second a blaster pressed against his side, when they teased how they would kill him for his armor and leave his carcass in the streets. 

It scared him, how if you were in his position now he would have followed through with the messy carnage he knows you are aching to cause. It scared him how despite the shake of his head you did it anyway. 

…

He had to drag you out of the Coruscant gang’s ship hangar. There were some stragglers left, running away from you, pleading for you to let them go.  His hand on your shoulder had made you stop mid swing. You didn’t really use your saber, he wonders what had changed. 

He saw the way your hand shook as you disabled the blade, how you tried to hide it by stomping into the ship and up to the cockpit, away from him.

You had your hands in fists when he had gotten up with a sigh. You stared forward the whole time he readied the ship for hyperspace, wanting nothing more than for the trip to be over. The shivering in your body had stopped after the glowing rays of blues and whites appeared outside the cockpits windows. 

He turns in his seat, placing his elbows on his knees and leaning towards you.

"You okay?"

You nod, avoiding his gaze. 

"Are you?" you ask.

You seemed angry with him, and that anger had made his concern turn to irritation. If anything, he should be angry at you, putting yourself at risk, being so close to getting shot and stabbed after he had directed you to leave.

He scoffs and your face falls from the hard stare, softening slightly. You stand and he flinches. Your sudden movement startled him back into sitting up straight. Your brows furrow in concern, thinking he was startled by you, wanting to get away from you.

"I shouldn't have gone that far," you whisper. 

You thought he was disappointed in the fact that you had slaughtered dozens. You were a jedi, or something like one and you weren't supposed to act like this. You let your emotions get the better of you, and that made you afraid. 

He shakes his head, standing and knowing where you were going with your thoughts. Before you could leave, he had pulled you back roughly, twisting you and pushing you onto the panels and controls.

"That's not- You could have gotten yourself killed."

He was gritting his teeth, his voice sounding dangerously low. Wanting to make you back down with the anger in his tone.

You look down, swallowing thickly and avoiding his gaze. A part of you was relieved he was just concerned for your wellbeing. The other was fighting back the urge to squeeze your thighs together from his still tight grip on your arm.

His chest heaves, he steps closer, crowding you against the control panel. He cups your face gently, his words getting softer when you instinctually lean against his touch. 

"You're so stubborn and irritating and reckless."

His other hand grips at your side, your eyes flicker from his vizor to his chest. Your ass cuts into the edge of the controls, his body blocks your vision, his upper torso curving downward to get a good look at you squirming. He wants to feel you. Present, alive, with him. 

"You always get like this."

Your brow quirks, your eyes trained on the rise and fall of his chest. He could feel your heat rise, your cheeks burning under the touch of his glove. 

"Always acting so big and tough only to get so shy when I get near you. Do I make you nervous?"

"Din‐"

You breathe out shakily, his hand travelling down to the front of your body, between your thighs and pressing in a rocking motion. You’ve thought about this so much. He was away so often you had to use your imagination to not feel as lonely.

"That why you're soaking through your trousers?"

Your runaway thoughts would evolve quickly from sharing a meal with him and Grogu as a family to suddenly being in Tatooine, the baby with Peli, and both of you finally having some time alone.  He'd bend you over, hold you up against the wall with your face against the wall as he pounds into you from behind. 

"I can't lose you. I can't let anything happen to you. I won't be able to live with myself if you're gone."

Your heart is frantic, momentarily out of the haze of pleasure his touch gives you. Fighting back a smile, your hands rise tauntingly up his arms, making him pause.

"So you leave me, alone, on a planet that I can barely call home and with people I don't know."

Greef would be offended, but he keeps his mouth shut when your eyes narrow up at him, knowing what he was about to respond with. He leans down, the cold beskar tapping against your head gently.

"I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I'm sorry," he whispers.

You nod against him, your hands gripping tightly onto his arms, his tightly wound around your waist.

"Let me show you how sorry I am."

Din follows the hitch of your breath, the thick swallow of your throat and your pinching eyes at his offer. You nod, your mouth parting enough to fog up the front of his vizor with your exhale.

He tugs your shirt up, his palm smoothing over your soft stomach, squeezing lightly. The cold panel meets your back, his hands moving up to your breasts, pushing your breastband up to pinch your nubs.

Your skin sings, finally, finally, finally. Finally, the ache in your body could be sated, the erratic thumps of your heart be reciprocated. Travel, near death experiences and general stresses have been deterring this; taking the next step once and for all.

"Love your tits, always teasing me with them."

You didn't mean to. Not really. It just felt nice to not constantly wear something so restrictive. You'd catch him staring, playing it off, when you had noticed, seemingly focused on something behind or beside you.

By the time you pulled your shirt off he had already taken his helmet in hand, falling to the ground in a hard thump. You had initially looked down, there were very few moments where he would show you his face, most of the time when he had assured the room were locked, windows closed shut and you weren't staring directly at him.

You couldn't get a good look before he leaned down, cupping the back of your head and neck and pulling you up to meet his lips. He groans loudly, he moans wantonly at your taste.

The adrenaline that had built up inside him an hour ago came back full force with the beat of his heart.

He slams you against the wall, his hands curling around your thighs and lifting. You shiver from his strength, from the cold metal of his chest and the wall behind you. 

You had more access to him this way, he had more access to you. Your mouth parts in a wispy moan, his facial hair rubbing against the thin skin of your throat as he sucks harshly. You wince when his fingers tighten over your hips, adjusting so that he could grip you tighter. 

Din lifts you higher, his face directly in front of your chest. He stares for a few moments, his eyes glassy, licking his lips from the way they bounced with the readjustment of his grip on you, now travelled up to your ass.

Tingles run up your spine when he nuzzles at the sides of your breasts, whispering praises in Mando'a, kissing tenderly at your sensitive skin.

"Mesh'la, mesh'la, gedet'ye... gedet'ye."

His mouth was hot, wet and all encompassing. He was pleading into you, drunk on your scent, sucking onto your skin and leaving swelling marks, making your skin glisten with his spit. 

He would worship you if he wasn't so pent up, lay you down, put his mouth to use all over your body until your mind drew blank slowly and surely. 

He unbuttoned the front of your pants, pushing the fabric down and thighs before pulling himself out of his flight suit quickly afterwards. You didn't think twice before nodding your head, whispering a quiet yes out into the room.

It stings, the first thrust made you whimper, your face buried over his cowl, your hands squeezing at his shoulders. His hands were on either side or your body, his fingers spread on the wall to thrust into you.

You bounce with each movement of his hips, your head repeatedly bumping against the metal panel, your body not knowing what to do with the building energy festering in your lower stomach. 

"Been dreaming of your cunt, ever since we met."

Years. It's been years since you met and the first time you did, it didn't really go all that well.  The connection was there, it was present and growing with each time you saw that damn silver helmet passing you by in Nevarro. 

You hold in your yell, burying your face against him to stifle the animalistic sounds coming from your mouth.  Din didn't like that, he wanted to hear you, he wanted all of his senses to be full of you.

A sharp thrust made you see stars, your cunt pulsing so much you swore you could feel the outline of his cock reveal itself inside you, sucking him in and keeping him there when he tried to pull back slightly.

He was filling, stuffing you so full you had no choice but to try to spread your legs farther apart on his waist.  He was just so big, a big heart, big presence and a very large body. 

At first his stature had made you cautious, he was dangerous, and despite his size he was still as swift as a viper and as strong as a bantha. He was a Mandalorian, just how the legends described them and now he was fucking a Jedi into the wall, making them scream out his name like a prayer to the maker. 

His legs start to crumble at the feel of your lips against his throat, skimming on the edge of his jaw. His thrusts quicken, the sticky slap of your slick covered skin amplifies, and he presses you harshly into the bolts and ridges of the wall behind you. 

Your groans of slight discomfort replaced and followed by louder and wispier moans barely met his ears. You could feel him pulse, his shaft twitching with the way you clench and bite into his skin. 

You raise your legs higher up his waist and he grunts, this time not in pleasure. Looking up from his chest, fighting through the pleasure coursing through your veins his jaw was clenched, his eyes closed tightly as he fought through the sting of his days old fresh wound on his side, which you knee was digging into. 

He continues to pound into you, fighting through the burning and the way his legs start to give out from beneath him. When his hands start roaming between your legs you stop him, breathing heavily through your mouth and panting when he has stopped altogether at your concerned look.

"Din slow down‐"

His head slumps against the wall, his hands grip you close to him when he leans closer. You're pressed so tightly between both walls of metal you felt as if your bones were going to crack.

"I can't‐" he huffs, "feel so good."

He was panting, heaving against you, his hands twitching to continue. You were the tightest thing he's ever felt in his life, so creamy and wet and hot.

His neck cranes down to get a taste of your lips, your hands having pushed through his hair and pulling him down. He breathes into you, trying to steady his breath as he steps back, his calves meeting the seat of his chair. 

Din sits down heavily, parting his legs and helping you adjust your legs over his waist.

You lean back on his thighs, licking your lips, pressing your hands over his chest urging him to lean back against the seat.  His eyes roam over you, his swollen lips parted, sweat building on his brow. 

Pace me, he pleads, his eyes meeting yours and his grip going to your hip to help you start. 

Your knees spread out in the open air.  All of the chairs in the cockpit didn't have any arms. The ship was mostly for luxury, old, pre‐empire but nonetheless kept intact for luxurious purposes.  The chairs had arms, so that pilots could be comfy in their travels. 

Din could barely fit in them, the arms were too close to his sides, and he felt rather restricted.  You thank that maker that he had suddenly decided he was tired of trying to maneuver around the control panel with metal bars pressing against his sides.

The chair creaks with the movement of your hips. You lean against his shoulder and his thigh to help you, your back arched and your breasts pushed to his face. 

Each push up and down his shaft gets stronger, with each slap of skin the pace quickens until your breasts are bouncing on his face and he attempts to mouth at them from where he sits.

Fire builds in your stomach, and it feels as if his touch, now getting closer to your core and your clit was only adding on to the heat.

His thumb, gods his thumb, pushes against your sensitive nerve, the hood being pulled away with each of your thrusts forward.  Then when you had finally felt yourself beginning to reach your end his thumb regressed down, feeling the edge of your pussy, tracing the stretched skin from where you were connected and rubbing in your slick to the base of his shaft and the tight rim of your hole. 

"Do you feel me?" 

His hand cups the back of your head, making you look up at him and whimper helplessly. You burn in embarrassment, from how pathetic you must look, shifting on his spearing cock, not being able to move anymore from how his arm holds you down so deep your clit was rubbing and rutting against his pelvis, the thick trail of his pubic hair from his pelvis to the base of his shaft stimulating.

"Yes," your words slur together, you were drooling, "feels so good. So deep."

Aching, he was making you ache and tremble. You swore he was puncturing you through to your womb. He tilts his head; you swallow thickly when he thrusts up into you. You clench, on the verge of being in pain.

"Full," you whine. 

He's mesmerized, fully relaxing himself into the seat, ignoring the ache in his body and holding you from your sides, his thumbs right under your breast, pushing them up and in his full view. 

He bounces you effortlessly, watching intently as your chest sways with the movement, your ass clapping from how hard and quick he was lifting and lowering you onto him. 

Din is a simple man, he has needs like everyone else, and your body is beautiful, ethereal and godlike. And now he was taking you, ruining you and making a mess of your cunt.

He guides one of your hands down, pressing your fingers to your clit, making a quick circular motion on your hood, urging you to repeat at your will. You immediately start clenching, your soft thighs starting to shake.

It was a flash, a quick passing of a thought that he didn't want to entertain in those lonely nights he had to jerk himself off. 

He imagined your smaller body swelling, growing heavy with his kid, or kids, or however many you would allow him to give you. 

His thumb flicks up and down, barely grazing your nipple. You moan, throwing your head back. They were pulled closer to his face, nipples tight and perky, begging him to put his mouth to use.  He salivates wondering how you would taste, how your milk would slide down his throat.

He doesn't think he'll ever tell you, how much he wants to breed you, how he wants you to make him a father again.

Shame fills him with the thought of you wearing your traditional robes, only to then pull it back to reveal the gravid swell of your stomach. What an honor that would be, to be able to have your child, to get the opportunity to dote and cherish you so fiercely in the process of creating another being he could love and protect. 

Din's head slumps against the chair, he closes his eyes tightly, grunting each time your pussy kisses the base of his cock. He starts to murmur again, a mix of basic and Mando'a.

"Fill you up, gedet'ye. Please, ti ner arpat. gedet'ye."  (with my seed, please.)

You understood enough of it, your stomach twitched, pulsing with electricity and making you moan out and move frantically for your climax. Your legs were squeezing his waist, your hand moving quickly, stimulating you further. 

He feels you tighten so much his breath stutters. Your back arched when he had increased his brutal pace, helping your fingers along your clit, making it throb so much it started to burn. 

You were seeing the light, he had brought you down to his lips, muffling your moans and gasping and crying out for him in his name.  He felt all of your pulses, the way your hips twitched incessantly, and your thighs shook so harshly your whole body was trembling. 

You hissed when he pulled you down, grinding and rutting up into, meeting his own end which felt as if it was minutes long. You still work on each other's orgasms, not stopping until you had both used yourselves of all you had. 

Your throat closes, you almost choke on your own spit from the sounds of his groans. Instead, you bite into his shoulder, he could barely feel the pressure of your teeth against the fabric of his cowl, too focused on the way your cunt was clamped onto him and sucking whatever he gave to you.

With the few lasts spurts of his cum, you had finally finished, now resting your head against his shoulder, feeling his thighs twitch for a few seconds afterwards. 

Your walls were so warm, his cum stuffing you full and making you feel slight discomfort at the heat of it.

Your head tilts down, gazing at the mess between your legs. A mix of white and clear slick was escaping the sides of your cunt, sliding down his softened cock and pooling to the seat and your thighs. 

You chuckle and your gaze focuses back on him, your hands cup his face lovingly and a teasing and tired smile plasters itself on your lips, his brows furrow. 

"What‐"

You moan when you kiss him, feeling your body want to shut down so badly but forcing yourself to relish in the aftermath. You bring his hand to your lower stomach.

"Gar arpat yaiyai'yc ner yai," you whisper against his lips.  His face reddens, a dark rush of blood at the fact that you had most likely understood every word he had said.  His cock twitches at your sentence, making him groan as you capture his lips once more. (Your seed satisfied/bloated my womb.)

You peck his lips, resting your forehead against his and caressing his cheek with the back of your fingers.

"One day..." you assure.  He swallows thickly, pulling you closer. You press your head against his shoulder as he nods.

"I think I'm going to faint..." you say against his throat.  He hums in agreement, feeling how your body was starting to slump against his chest.

Din takes his time cleaning you, kissing your legs, touching you lightly with a warm and damp towel, wincing at the sight of your cunt so swollen, the ghost of his tight grip that was pulsing in heat on your skin. His hands caressed over your cheek, having stripped himself of his armor, getting inside the bunk bare with you to coax you to sleep. 

Funnily enough he was knocked out after a couple of minutes, already snoring.  You were still fighting to keep your eyes open, eyeing his side and torso.

The wound was on his right side, you were laying against his chest on his left. You close your eyes tightly, your hand moving over the bandage.  It felt strange, you've only done this maybe once or twice.  It was advanced, usually reserved for those who specialized in the force and depended on it like a limb or those who were special. 

You didn't hear him shift in his sleep, feeling as if his skin were being pulled. He grumbles to you, asking what was going on. Whatever energy you had left escaped your body in that moment, you slump against him.

For a few moments he panics, sitting up and lifting your limp body with him, cupping your face, tapping your cheek repeatedly, thinking he had actually made you pass out. Then he notices that his side isn't stinging as harshly as before. He breathes in a lungful of air and feels no pain, his hands unwrap the bandage over his stomach only to reveal a patch of skin on his side, red and scabbier than the rest as if weeks had gone by.

…

Your legs were so shaky, you could barely feel them when you stood. You wince with each step, your core throbbing. Your body felt as if it was going to turn into mush and collapse, you leaned heavily against a small ledge at the side of the hull, a small kitchen where you were trying to make some rations for breakfast.

"Fuck," you mutter, starting to remember everything that had happened the night before in full detail. Your body was literally about to collapse, you had given some of your life energy, you needed to replenish yourself before even thinking of walking around like you have just now.

On top of that, you were genuinely sore from your other activity. Being pumped full of adrenaline and expelling it in such an explosive way would have left you tired even without the healing session.

Your cunt throbs as you shift on your feet, you have been stretched to your limit, your hand roams over your hips and ass and you swear you feel the beginning of harsh bruises. It was worth it, you thought, you had been thinking of his cock for months now, years, imagining how big he was even underneath all that armor. 

A shiver rolls up your spine.

His hands encircle your waist, his head leaning down to rest on your shoulder. You leaned so much into him; it was startling how drained you looked in his arms. He pulls back slightly.

"Are you okay?"

You shake your head, feeling weaker by the second. He lifts you easily, striding over to the bunk and wrapping you up in blankets and pillows, standing there for a few minutes, making sure you were breathing and shaking his head at your foolish attempt to fight through your fatigue.

…

"She was injured. Badly."

"Does she need medical attention? We have a hospital nearby."

"It's fine, I can take care of her."

They stare at each other for a few moments. Din’s vizor showed no hint of emotion except stubbornness. Greef Karga's gaze did not falter from where he stood.

"Right, you don't trust droids,” Karga quips teasingly, a hint of skepticism hidden in his words. 

Din nods, his hands at his hips, shifting on his feet as if gesturing for him to get back to his magistrate business and leave him alone. Greef claps his hands together, glancing at your door and nodding.

"I'll leave you to it. I'm only a call away, Mando, anything you need."

With a final nod from Din he makes his way over to his speeder, two small droids fighting to stay balanced as they follow behind his steps. Din makes sure the trail of dirt and soot was cleared before he entered the home, locking the door, closing the window and finally taking off his armor. 

Din hears your yawn, elongated and loud. Bringing forth a chuckle from his chest.

Your hands reach out for him when he steps inside the bedroom. You entangle your limbs with his when you tug him down on the bed, barely wide enough to fit both of you.

"Stay awhile," you murmur, tracing patterns over his side.

He rubs your back soothingly, massaging into the muscles of your shoulders and neck.

"'Course."

--------------------

I love Din Djarin, hes so man and so beauty and so baby gurl. Bubba!

Starlight Masterlist

-Alejandra 💋 🐇

[whocaresstillthelouvre]

Care For You

Din Djarin x Female Reader

Rating: Explicit. 18+ (Minors DNI) Summary: You’re not sure how it happens, how you two end up on the ground, sliding in the mud, clutching at each other. His big hands lock your wrists above your head, pinning you to the moss and mud. You could slip out from under him easily, but you let him scan you, checking to make sure you’re okay, helmet tilting when he sees your racing heart in your chest. Warnings: Smut, mud, rain, Din uses that line from the movie, helmet stays on, gloves stay on, we only get Din dick glimpse, author used Wookieepedia. Not beta read because it just needs to be released so I can move along with my day. Words: 1,600

A/N: 🤷🏼‍♀️ I saw Mandalorian & Grogu while ovulating. I've had this idea half written in my docs with Joel, but once I figured out how good this would be for Din, well, I had to change it. This is partially based from my favorite sex scene (Emmanuelle IV nation, rise) that I've shared with some of you. Titles from the Marías song "Care For You" which is the hottest song/video in the world. Uhhh. Enjoy?

Masterlist

It hasn’t stopped raining since you set foot on this planet. It’s a sheet of water, unforgiving and smothering, hammering down so hard you can hardly breathe, let alone see in front of you. The storm soaks you all the way through, your boots dipping deeper into the muddy ground.

You couldn’t move, even if you wanted to. The throaty and deep growl that told you “stay put” keeps you planted in the forest. You’re out, in the open, the clearing barely wrapping you in any sort of protection. You’re shivering, arms shaking, blaster held up as if your measly little pistol’s going to do anything to protect you.

Far away shots radiate through the tall trunks of the trees, coming closer with every sway of the foliage. Your breathing rattles when you gasp a wet, rapid suck of air. You want to call out for him, but you stay quiet and armed. Just how he likes you.

Another blast of shots echoes out into the air. Then a weird silence that seems to mute the cacophony of raindrops and thunder.

If he doesn’t come back, what the fuck do you do next? Do you even know where the ship is? And how the hell are you going to pilot the thing? You still feel like the bounty hunter’s little charity case, proving herself to the big, strong Mandalorian after you were left all alone when the Hutts ran your crew to the ground on Nar Shaddaa and your captain ditched you to save his own skin.

Your feet are growing numb, water trickles down your whole body, and you’re too anxious to get mad at yourself for not bringing your poncho. He told you to wait. So you do. Body quaking, teeth grinding. Every shadow looks like an enemy hiding in the bushes. You thought you’d have more courage with Din, that you’d be brave like him. And yet… all you want to do is get back to the safety of the ship.

A hunched shape breaks through the dense foliage. Tall, looming, broad, shiny.

Din.

Your blaster drops to the ground, and he says your name, speakers crackling just loud enough to hear over the rain. You slip in the muck as you cross the clearing.

“Din,” you whisper.

He bounds towards you, gloved hands gripping your arms, his armored shoulders rising and falling. The metal of his helmet clunks against your forehead, and he takes a moment.

“Are we okay?” you ask.

“We are.”

That unlocks you, and you choke on relief, collapsing against the Beskar wall of him. “I was scared,” you blurt to the dark T of the visor.

You’re not sure how it happens, how you two end up on the ground, sliding in the mud, clutching at each other. His big hands lock your wrists above your head, pinning you to the moss and mud. You could slip out from under him easily, but you let him scan you, checking to make sure you’re okay, helmet tilting when he sees your racing heart in your chest.

“Don’t be scared, I’ll protect you,” he thunders above you, pressing his body down, full heavy weight against you, the edge of his thigh armor digging between your legs. Lightning strobes and thunder cracks, and you’re flailing, greedy, grinding yourself against the hard edge of his armor. The rain still sheets down, droplets of it leaking down his helmet, tasting like precious metal and need.

He’s repeating your name, barking it almost, over the tinny speaker in his helmet, gasping it out. You clutch at his pauldrons, trying to bring him closer and closer to you. He’s heavy, but you’re slippery.

The world turns when he rolls, and you’re straddling his hips. The clasp of your soaked tunic is ripped open by Din, cold rain hitting your bare skin, and you welcome it to cool your burning skin.

His hands slide up your thighs, leather gripping hard, and he groans, that low, mechanical sound you crave. His visor is fixed on your breasts, the rain making your skin glisten in the flashes of lightning.

“This is dangerous,” you say, and yet Din’s hands pull you harder against him

“I’ll take care of whoever comes.”

He sits up, holding you against him, your legs twining around his waist. You grind, the soaked seams of your pants and the scrape of his flight suit sparking warm friction along your needy cunt. It’s almost primitive in the way you rub and moan, head tipped back, rain filling your mouth as his big, meaty hands grip your ass, moving you sweeter and deeper along him.

The mud squelches beneath you when he presses you back down into the ground, his helmet knocking against your forehead again. “Your heart,” he growls. “I can hear it.”

There’s a desperation shared between you, it’s been there from the first moment the dark T of his visor met your eyes. You tug at his flight suit, needy for his skin, but he stops you with his hand on your wrist. Instead, he slides his hand down your stomach, under the waistband of your pants, and you gasp when the leather finds your clit, thick finger pressing against it and circling. The rain continues to pour and pelt, washing the mud from your skin only for your writhing body to replace it with more, but you don’t care about the mess, not when Mando has you captured like this. You don’t care about anything now, just the way he watches you through that impassive visor.

“I want you,” you beg.

He tugs your pants low, exposes your pussy to the rain, to the unknown planet, and to him, not even pausing before grinding himself against you.

You wonder what he looks like when he sees you like this, naked body offered to him amongst the dirt and mud of the planet he landed on just a few hours ago. Are his eyes greedy? Does he lick his lips, craving the taste of you? You want to see his face, want to see his eyes, but you know you can’t… and it only makes you want him more. He groans and grunts, desperation through the speakers, and he rips down his flight suit, just enough to give you a quick glimpse of his golden cock.

The thick tip of Din nudges at your slick entrance, and when he pushes in, you see a galaxy behind your eyes. You moan, loud, an almost primal scream, and he answers it with a growl of “good girl,” like he always does.

He gives you all of him at once, shrouding himself in your wet heat, he doesn’t take it slow. There’s no time for savoring. It can’t take long out here in the middle of the forest. Later, after you’ve scrubbed yourself in the tiny shower of the ship, he’ll lay you down on the metallic floor and take his time… maybe even wrap a blindfold over your eyes and bestow the precious gift of his tongue between your legs, but for now, you have to be fast.

He presses you deeper and deeper into the forest floor, hands bracing on your shoulders, using you as leverage as his cock spears you. The Mandalorian overpowers you, makes you ache in the way he fills you, thrusting into you with the same rhythm as the quick thunderclaps overhead. Din’s breathing hard, fingers gripping you so hard you welcome the ache across your skin.

“Look at me,” he rasps, visor locked on your face, and you do, all soaked, crumpled, and ruined by his big cock.

Your back bows in the mud, mouth open to the rain, and his helmet presses into your forehead in the way you know he’s thinking about feeling your skin against his. Every tattered breath he takes through the speakers vibrates through your body, his tremors meeting yours as your cunt clenches around him. You wonder if he’s sweating under there, if his sweat tastes metallic.

You cum first, noisy and shameless and writhing, out in the middle of the forest. Your pulsing pussy drags him with you, and you can hear the panic of his own orgasm in the flatline of his breathing. He pulls out and gives you what you crave, the sight of his big, gloved hand wrapping around his fat cock, stroking his release out of him.

Thick white webs of the Mandalorian land across your wet body, the rain instantly washing away the cum he’s bathed you in. You’re panting, curses you’ve gathered from far-off planets escaping from your mouth as you come down, and for a split second you pretend he could take off the helmet, feel his plush lips against yours outside the privacy of his ship… but the moment never comes.

He rolls off, grunting, tucking himself back into his flight suit, all of the Mandaloian now shrouded and protected, while you lie splayed amongst the forest naked and shivering. He drags you over to him, gathers you in his arms, gauntlets pressing against your skin. He cradles your head against his throat, your face mashed up against the pulse point under his helmet, pressing into the scratchy flight suit.

You savor it, shaky and sated, his body heat radiating through the panels of armor. He traces the line of your spine with his hand, full of softness not many people know the bounty hunter is capable of.

“I care for you,” he finally says, hushed and flattened by the rain.

Your eyes close, and you memorize the sound, pulse slowing when you realize you're safe for once, because of the impossibly big, shiny bounty hunter.

“And, I care for you,” you tell him, his arms answering your confession when they bound you tighter against him.

[hauntedinkk]

the helmet stays on ~ d.d

tags: mdni!! smut, husband!din x wife!reader, reader and mando are trying for a baby, rough ish sex, age gap (late twenties/ early fourties), helmeted sex, mask kink, unprotected p in v sex, breeding kink, mutual orgasms, creampie and aftercare.

summary: you ask mando to keep the helmet on tonight.

grogu’s soft cooing filled your home as you cooked the meat over the stove. he sat perched in his hover pram, his curious face eyeing you thoughtfully as you cooked the nerf meat in the pan, din’s favourite.

nevarro was quieter than your life before it and although din’s work still had risks, you both had a permanent home here. a place to settle down together with grogu and, as you’d both had planned, a baby of your own.

you both weren’t necessarily determined, it was more of a case of if it happened, it happened. if it didn’t, you still had a son in grogu.

and it was fun too — having sex without any precautions, it made you feel like a love sick teenager again.

you finished off dinner and dished out food between the three of you, leaving din’s up for him for whenever he decided to arrive home.

dinner was peaceful as usual, filling the silences with conversation with the child although he couldn’t necessarily answer you. you liked evenings like these and they made you wonder how grogu would be if you and mando’s plans go well. you weren’t too sure how he would act around a human baby, you hoped it would be positive.

shortly after, you took grogu to his bedroom, bonding with him a little before putting him down for the night and today, he didn’t give you much hassle while doing so. he rarely did anyway.

and just as you made it back out to the living room, you were met with the sound of the front door clicking shut and then, the heavy steps that were revealed to be your husband as you turned around to see him in the hallway.

“hello, cyar'ika,” mando greeted, meeting you in the kitchen and removing his helmet with a heavy grunt, one that told you that it had been a long day.

you slid your hands up his armoured chest, relieved to his handsome face after the hours of not seeing it. it was moments like these that made your life as beautiful as it was, just the simple things. you leaned in for a kiss, pressing your lips to his in a loving kiss before pulling back to whisper. “i’ve missed you.”

din’s eyes softened on you — they always did in gentle moments like these. he dropped his large, gloved hands down to cup your waist, smiling softly when you melted into his touch. “i’m sorry i was so long, darling,” he sighed, allowing his forehead to fall against yours. “it was only meant to be a short job, things just got busy.”

you hummed, tracing the metal over his chest, a playful smile forming on your lips. “i’m sure i can think of a way you can make it up to me.” you said suggestively, wiggling your brows and eliciting a laugh from din.

he licked his lips, his grip on you getting slightly tighter. although mando was a man of few words, you could tell when something you’d said settled deep in his core. “yeah?”

“uh huh,” you bit your lip. “grogu is asleep. out like a light,” you brought your hand up to run through din’s curls — the dark hair feeling soft between your fingers, curtesy of that shampoo you insisted him on using. “maybe you could eat your dinner.. and then we could head to the bedroommmm?” you drawled out, giggling.

“hm,” mando grunted, the corners of his lips twitching as if he were fighting off a smile. “or we could just go straight t’the bedroom.” his hands squeezed your waist tightly, making your squirm a little beneath his hold. you giggled and reached up to wrap your arms around his neck, shifting a little in a hint for him to lift you up.

“you’re not hungry?” you asked, leaning in to graze your lips off his jaw, his stumble tickling your mouth charmingly.

din’s hands slipped down your body before lifting you up against his own, wrapping your legs around his waist and keeping a firm hold underneath your buttocks. he started to walk towards the bedroom and you squealed as you bounced slightly in his arms with each heavy step. “i am. just a different kind.”

your back hit the bed before you could even register that you were in you and your husbands shared bedroom. din worked frantically across from you, standing at the end of the bed while you sat up and watched him remove his armour, stepping out of his pants and working on taking his top half off.

you chewed your lip, twirling a piece of fabric from your night dress around your finger. he looked so good in his armour and part of you wished that he didn’t have to take it off. you wanted his cock, of course you did after a long day of not seeing him, but you wished he could just fuck you while wearing it. the metal accentuated his muscles so beautifully, making him look like a sculpted, chiselled piece of art just for you.

but then, an idea popped into your head.

it wasn’t necessarily his entire uniform but it was something at least.

“baby?” you asked softly, a little sheepishly even.

“mhm?” he paused, pulling his top half over his head, leaving him in just his underwear.

“uhm..” you sat up, getting to your feet nervously and watching how din peered back at you in confusion. “just.. wait here.”

din sat on the bed, looking up as you started to walk toward the door. “wh-”

“just wait!” you called back, breaking into a quick walk down the hallway and into the joint kitchen and living room. you scanned the space before your eyes stopped on the item you wanted.

his helmet.

you grabbed it and held it behind your back, making your way back towards the bedroom and standing in the doorway, a nervous grin tugging at your lips.

din was now stretched out on the bed, laying comfortably against the cushions, his underwear tenting for obvious reasons. the sight made you tingle. “what’s that you’ve got?” he asked, brows furrowed.

you rubbed your lips together, taking the helmet in front of your body and holding it up. you chuckled a little awkwardly. “i just.. kinda thought it would be fun for you to wear your helmet..”

a smile broke out on mando’s face and he sat up, patting the bed as you started to walk toward him. you placed the helmet on the mattress, climbing up along with it.

“you’d be into that, ka'rta?” he asked, rolling over on top of your body, covering yours with his as he helped you settle comfortably against the pillows. “you want me to fuck you with my helmet on?”

“mmm..” you hummed, still giggling as he grabbed the helmet, planting some sloppy kisses over your neck, almost as if he were savouring the taste of your skin before he wouldn’t be able to kiss it anymore. “just a little though.”

“just a little?” he asked, voice turning into that grumbled drawl as he placed the helmet over his head, covering every last piece of his face. you let your hand travel down to his soft underwear, your hand squeezing the outline of him gently through the fabric. you could hear the way his breath hitched, even through his helmet.

“well.. maybe a little more than a little.” you answered, smirking as you felt him push his hips forward, almost as if he were silently encouraging you to take him out of the confines of him draws.

you took the hint and accommodated him on pushing the clothing down his thighs, watching as he kicked them the rest of the way off. the sight of him was so erotic and you were sure — even as good as you and din’s sex life already was — that you’d never done anything hotter than this.

“god, din,” you moaned, your head falling back as you rocked your hips upward, your clit throbbing uncomfortably beneath the silk bed-wear. you weren’t wearing any underwear — you never did underneath pyjamas — and you were sure your thighs were coated now. you could feel it, your skin uncomfortably sticky. “you’re making me crazy,”

“okay, it’s okay love. i’ve got you.” he could tell how worked up you were getting. as your husband, he was very in-tuned to these sorts of things. the past two years of making love to you, fucking you ever so gently to take you to that place of bliss he knew you needed after a long day. or sometimes, he was a little rougher. bending you over the panel of the razor crest, pounding his cock into you with little care for how overstimulated you were getting. you act up like this? you take it cyar'ika. from all of that, it was pretty easy to tell what you wanted and needed. and he wasn’t about to deprive you of it.

he reached down and flipped the skirt of your night dress up, the soft, familiar silk feeling comforting on his hand. as he revealed your lower half, you hissed. the room temperature air on your glistening cunt hitting you like a truck. you whimpered, dropping your head back, completely surrendering yourself to mando for him to do with you as he pleased. he always did know how to please you after all.

silently, he reached for your cunt, running his thumb through your slit to feel just how wet you really were. and god, you didn’t disappoint. his fucking girl, his wife. always so ready for his cock.

he brought his thumb back up to the top of your slit, pressing down on your clit gently to gauge a reaction from you. immediately, you whimpered again, reaching forward to clutch his arm. “so ready, love. yooba solus mesh'la, goddamn.”

you smiled hazily, nodding and lifting your hips up into his hands. “ngh - yeah,” you gasped. “please — fuck, din. stop teasing.” you whined, desperation evident in your voice.

“c’mon, let’s get this pussy nice and full.” he groaned, reaching down to grip his cock in one hand while using his other to spread you open to his liking. mando was always relatively quiet during sex, he wasn’t a talker at the best of times, anyway. it didn’t bother you much, certainly not now anyway, when he was prodding his drooling cock at your entrance, his own breaths breaking into an uneven moan when he felt your wet entrance on his sensitive glands.

the first push in made you gasp. it always did, what with mando’s size. he always filled you so good, his tip kissing your cervix as he settled inside of you fully. your walls hugged him comfortably, a warm embrace that made him drop his helmeted head into your neck. “fuck, honey. so warm.” he mumbled.

you nodded, eyes falling shut as he rocked his hips just once in an experimental way, testing your readiness. for a split second, you wished you could feel his lips on your neck, nipping and sucking in the way he knew you loved. it was like a secret language between the two of you, one only the two of you were aware of and it felt a little disappointing not to feel it right now.

but.. you could really deny that view. not with the way he looked in this fucking helmet, face buried in your neck while he rocked into you gently, his hand fumbling down between your legs to your clit. his rolled it between two fingers and you clenched down on him, the two of you groaning in perfect unison.

and although you were enjoying his ministrations, you are growing somewhat frustrated at his slow pace. you whined in a mix of impatience and neediness. “please din, need it harder.” you moaned, your hands travelling up his back, nails digging in slightly when he drew gentle, pressured patterns on your bundle of flesh.

you could practically see the smirk through his armoured face. something he didn’t do often, mostly only in moments like these. “harder? is that what you need? ya need me to put my baby in you tonight?”

you hiccuped, chest tightening at his lewd words as he pulled his face back from your neck, letting it hover over your own. “y-yes. god — just.. want a baby with you so bad,” tears sprung to your eyes and you weren’t sure if they were from pleasure, frustration or the genuine wish to have another addition to the family you and din already had. “a baby brother or s-sister for grogu.”

you clung to his back tighter now as if it were your only lifeline. like if you dug your nails hard enough or squeezed his muscles tight enough, he’d grant you this. one hand stayed on your clit while the other cupped your soft belly. “I’m going to give that to you, love,” din told you, voice firm with determination but you could hear the way it cracked slightly with that underlying emotion. something deeper than he’d ever fully expressed to you while you’d both talked about a baby. “going to give it to you just right and give you that baby.”

you nodded but before you could form an answer, din drew back far enough that just his cock head was sheathed inside you before slamming back in, just how you’d asked. it made you cry out — sharp and sudden, the air being forced from your lungs. it rattled your insides in the most satisfying way and nudged that sensitive spot nestled deep in your walls.

“tell me how bad you need this, ka'rta. tell me how bad you need my cum.” and his voice sounded pleading. like if he didn’t hear you describe this thing for him, if he didn’t hear your struggling, pleased voice, that he would never be whole. it was the kind of desperation that he reserved only for your ears and the trust in that made you even more aroused and even more emotional, your moans and gasps turning into sobs fairly quickly.

he set a steady, yet brutal pace all the same while you frantically searched for the words that suited exactly how you felt right now. it was so perfect, his fingers on your sweet spot, his cock on that even sweeter one inside of you, dragging through your walls and your ears drowning in the sound of steady slapping of skin.

“need — oh that’s it, right there, i.. god i need it so bad, baby. just need to be full of you. wanted it all — all day.” you stuttered, voice high pitched as he stimulated you.

you opened your mouth to continue babbling about whatever you thought of quick enough but nothing came out. you lost your vocalisation skills pretty quickly when the only thing your ears could hear and your brain could concentrate on were din’s moans and groans and grunts as he fucked his cock in and out of you.

you were both a sweating mess, both bodies rocking and bouncing slightly with ever thrust and right now? it was just you two. just the two of you in this whole planet. in this whole galaxy. nothing and nobody mattered outside of this life you’d both built for yourselves.

and you were right there.

right where mando needed you to be.

“s’right there, din,” you sobbed quietly, clutching his body loosely as your control started to slip. and din knew what was coming. you always got like this right around now when he fucked you dumb on his cock. whiny, messy, a little teary eyed. he knew you like the back of his hand, you know? the way your body reacted in moments like these — when he hit that special spot.

it was so beautiful, watching you cry and whinge from the impact of his cock on your g-spot. “i know, baby. i know how to take care of your special spot, you just lay back and relax. you about to cum?”

“i.. y-yeah.. m’gonna cum. gonna.. m’gonna — fuck, din!” you gasp when his hips pick up the pace, your hips rolling almost as if they had a mind of their own — your only focus now, being your climax.

mando smiled. you looked so damn adorable like this, all desperate and glowing. “come on, mesh'la. i know your holding back, you’re clenching. just let go for me, my love. let me feel you.” his voice sounded muffled through the helmet yet his words landed right in your core, encouraging you to stop being stubborn and just allow yourself to feel that sweet release.

your stomach clenched, your walls twitching and with one deep exhale paired with a sharp cry, you shattered. your walls rippled around his length, sending a charming tingle up din’s sensitive cock, your convulsing only contributing to the ache building in his balls. his stomach simmered with a warm, dangerous heat, his cock starting to twitch as he let you cry it out.

you sobbed loudly and all thoughts of grogu next door completely left your head. mando wrapped both arms around your waist and sat back on his heels, pulling you up into his lap while he did. he gently pulled your face into the crook of his neck, pacifying your cries. he grunted while he fucked up into you and your gasps turned broken, shaky.

“din — din, baby.. I can’t..” you sniffled into his bare shoulder, your teeth sinking into the sweat damp flesh to control yourself.

din grunted and moaned, hissing as he felt his balls draw up. “it’s coming, you can take it, baby.” he gritted, his cock spurting thick ropes of cream inside of your walls, hopefully swimming towards your womb if you were lucky. mando’s face dropped into your neck, the metal feeling odd on your hot skin.

the next two minutes consisted of the two of you mushed together, the fluids of one another dripping onto skin and the sounds of ragged breaths. you leaned back looking at the way dins head flopped down, bowing as it moved from your neck.

it made you giggle — how exhausted he seemed and you reached forward, pulling the helmet off of his head and revealing his red, flushed face, his hair tousled from the armour.

you cupped his cheeks and he looked up at you with those loving, brown orbs of his. “hey,” you whispered, voice slightly giddy from that post coital comedown.

both his arms lazily tightened around your waist and his lips twitched as he leaned in to press a soft kiss to your lips. “hey.”

hope you guys enjoyed my first mando fic! I had a blast writing this. please consider reblogging, liking or even dropping a follow if you enjoyed :)

[dilf-docs]

pairing. din djarin x younger fem!reader

summary. there's finally peace in nevarro. this allows you to settle with your little family at the outskirts of what once was a bounty hunter hive, and with a break from missions, it leaves too much free time. ╱ 3k

warnings/tags. +18 (minors dni), pwp, p. in v., creampie (are condoms a thing in space?), oral (f. receiving), sensory deprivation, sub!din (he's so important to me), switch!reader, the helmet stays ON, they're so in love with each other ew ew ew

note. this comes both from a place of love as a place of lust for my favorite awkward tin can! having seen the movie twice + re-watched the series, i think it's finally time i write for the first ppcu character i knew he played (the first canonically would be maxwell lord but i didn't know it was my husband and made fun of him/the spanish dub with my bro, anyway💔). #marilore: see, my dad bought disney+ in the pandemic because he heard abt this new tv show and star wars it's our thing: we're geeks since forever! he made me star wars pilled since i was born. how would i know i'd fall down the pedro rabbit hole with tlou +2 yrs later and then stan after watching gladiator II randomly one morning i decided to skip class. this thing got too long lmao bye (i just love to talk about myself!)

If someone told you how much things would change around, you'd laugh in their faces.

Nevarro? The place that was nothing more but a meet-up for the Bounty Hunters' Guild? Now being anything other than that?

A home.

And if they told you that wouldn't be the only thing to change, well, what would you expect?

Certainly not the famed Mandalorian being that home for you.

Once rivals at work, then hasty allies due to unforeseen complications involving a certain little green alien. Among the stars and the quietness his stoic nature provided, you found a place within the beats of a heart that had just learn how to feel again. Where before stood nothing but darkness, a body on auto-pilot, now lay a man who you could read: in his pauses and stances, in the tilt of his helmet, in the slight cracks of his voice if an emotion was hard to hide under beskar and indifference.

The Mandalorian, living legend, was more than the beskar warrior that had defeated Moff Gideon and wielded the Darksaber: underneath, he was Din Djarin, your lover.

And you, the Guild's second best: who kept winning his jobs, who he once deemed annoying and reckless. Who almost put once his life to end if it wasn't for Grogu changing your heart. Now his cyar'ika.

The universe worked in mysterious ways: the way fate had intertwined your lives with duty and heart, a soul and warrior pride. A house, a baby to raise as one of your kind.

The very same one that's cooing right now as you play with his hands.

"We should definitely get him a bed"

Din's head turns around, stopping whatever task he had in his hands.

"He likes to sleep on the floor"

You gasp. "Why are you talking about him as if he was a Massiff? That's your son!"

He returns his attention to the gun he was cleaning, losing interest in the conversation. "Then Grogu can sleep on the bed with us"

You carry up Grogu before walking up to him, forcing him to turn by his shoulder.

"He'll eventually grow it out"

"It'll take years, probably centuries. Didn't you hear the Jedi?"

"I did, I'm not deaf. Maybe you are, or just empty brained"

To prove said point, you knock on his helmet. The beskar makes an echoing sound that bounces off the walls.

"Stop" Din warns, although his voice sounds remotely angry. Bothered, if anything.

No matter the love, some things don't change: him finding your antics annoying.

"Do you want your son to remember how stingy you were?" you balance him on your hip, "How daddy didn't spare a few credits for a decent crib?"

You raise Grogu to his face, aligning it with his visor. The child babbles, as if he truly understands the role he has to play.

"How can you say no to that cute face?" you taunt with a baby voice, moving Grogu. "To those cute big eyes and large ears?"

He stands up. "Put him down. You're going to drop it"

You narrow your eyes. Then, pretend to. Din instantly goes alert-mode, arms raised and ready to catch him.

"It's not funny"

"You're not fun"

He sighs, probably rolling his eyes under the helmet.

"You're such a child, cyar'ika"

You turn Grogu to look at you, his big eyes rooted in your face as he giggles.

"That makes us two, eh?"

Without telling you, Din proceeds to take him from your hold.

"Hey!"

"It's time he rests" It's all he says, walking towards the bed.

You cross your arms. "You just did that to take him away from me"

He gives his back to you, focused on Grogu and his fingers wrapped around his.

"Maybe"

You huff. "I'm going to cook something. For me"

Din doesn't grant you a reply this time.

"Suit yourself" you bite back.

The thing about being rivals for about two decades, is the petty banter never seemed to die out.

It's rarely serious, probably only when you chastise his suicidal tendencies when he's piloting, so of course it doesn't last.

Which is why he's right now coming from behind you, hand on your waist. Din wasn't much into physical contact as he was into proving his love through actions, so any small touch was highly appreciated by you.

"He fell asleep"

You stirr the pot, "In the floor or the bed?"

His reply is curt, "Floor"

You sometimes forget he's not much of a talker.

"You're bent on proving your point" you flicker his signet, "stubborn as a Mudhorn once they pick up a fight"

"Maybe..." his voice dwindles, not before going out with a rasp. You recognize the pattern of his breathing, the way it hitches, "...maybe I wanted the bed to be free"

You turn the stove off and take a better look at him, desperately wishing to see his face.

The last time you saw it, he did it for Grogu. You understood, but can't say it didn't sting even a bit.

Would his eyes be a darker shade, crowded with lust? Would he sport a grin or a smirk? Is he looking at you with desire, with need? And where those same lips still as kissable as they looked that day? Would they eat you, devour, like a starved man if he let you see? Leave marks; bites, to show everyone around what to him belonged?

"That's raw" he whispers, voice croaking.

Your voice breaks, too.

"Who cares? We're not eating anymore"

"Not that" he agrees.

Din gently pressed you against the soft sheets of the bed, your breath hitching as he placed himself on top.

His hands tremble slightly as he touches your skin, a contrast to the stoic, effective and unbreakable warrior he portrayed: this powerful, quiet man was trembling in your arms.

No matter the time that has passed since his confession back in Maldo Kreis, when he thought you'd find death at the hands, well, teeth, of giant spiders. He had, since then, been completely undone by you, and each time he touched you―such reverence on every tip of his finger that grazed your skin, he made sure to prove nothing had changed since then.

He's quick to get rid of his garments, not without a little help from you to quit most of his armor.

"Din" you breathe as soon as his body is free―everywhere but face, your fingers digging into the skin of his shoulders. You tug him closer, encouraging. "Don't stop"

He lets out a strangled sound that's half a groan, half a sigh of relief at your command.

"You have no idea," Din murmurs, voice thick with adoration, "how much I need you"

He pulls back, and even though you can't see his eyes, you feel the vulnerability ooze from them. The way his breath picks up a quick pace, as if the effort of letting you see him like this is almost as consuming as the sight of you, underneath, ready for him. For a moment, it's like he's seeing through you, trying to commit every detail to memory.

You extend your hands, letting him take them. You caress them until the trembling stops, guiding them to your hips. His hands grip the skin of your hips like you were his anchor.

Din was, if anything, willingly, desperately, surrendering to you.

"Don't be afraid" you softly coo, voice barely above a whisper, "it's not our first"

"Please" he whispers, pained. It was a plea, asking permission to let the mental armor off so he can fall apart in your arms.

"Let yourself go, Din. Let me help you" you whisper. "Now, tell me: what do you want?"

"You" he answers without missing a beat, trepidation laced in his breath, "just you"

He grabs your shirt, jacket long discarded on the floor without caring; it's a miracle you didn't throw it over Grogu's sleeping form.

"Can I?"

You nod, breathlessly. "Yes"

He pulls the fabric over your head, fingers fumbling with your pants.

"Why do you carry guns inside the house?" he protests, undoing your belt.

"When you take the knife out of your shoe, I will"

Suddenly you're only in your underwear, shivering because of the cold.

"Dank farrik. We should've bought that heater, the fireplace barely feels there"

"Don't worry" he crawls down, between your opening legs, "I'll make you warm"

He looks up at you.

"Can I..." he starts, cracking in the last word, "...can I taste you?" Din's fingers slide to the waistband of your underwear, "please"

"But, your face-"

"You're right" he backtracks, "I don't know why I-"

You cut him off, "I can cover my eyes"

Din lets out what seems like a sound of pure relief, probably at the solution around his creed or the fact he'll get to taste you. Maybe it's the lust speaking over his rationale, but he's saying:

"Why hadn't we thought about that before?"

"I think fighting Imps and trying to keep Grogu safe took all the time"

He sports a crooked grin under the helmet. "This is the way"

You click your tongue, "You wouldn't be too happy if I was the one saying that"

You don't waste more time.

Your hands reach out to his helmet, slowly pulling it off. He stops you before you get to see more than his chin.

"Close your eyes" he mutters with a quiet, vulnerable, raw voice. It is equally thick with desperation, more than before.

"I will"

The helmet comes off with a hiss. All you see is dark, hands holding to the beskar.

"I have an idea"

You hear Din's breath hitch, a small yelp dying on his lips. Lips you'd die to see.

The helmet feels heavy on your head, and you wonder if he feels so too or it's used to it at this point.

"Don't worry" you throw your head back, "eyes on the roof"

You sense his hesitation, "I'm not looking"

It takes some minutes for him to reply, "I know"

"Then" you extend your hand, "what's wrong?"

You feel him draw closer, search the warmth of your hand. And then, it happens.

Your body freezes, feeling him place his cheek on your palm, rubbing against it. You cup it on instinct, the rough of his stubble tickling. You giggle, fighting back tears.

"You haven't cut it"

"I know you like it"

You laugh with glossy eyes he can't see, your heart swelling with the intention.

"But I can't see it"

The bed cracks as he lowers himself. "I'm sorry. I just... I really wanted to taste you. I've thought... about it, for so long. What your lips would taste like, how you-" he cuts his rambling off, whispering his thoughts out loud. "I'm not an... expert. I have never done it before. But I know I can make you feel good. I'll be so good for you, I promise"

Heat runs straight to your core, making it clench around nothing.

"Yes" you breath, giving him permission.

Din's hands grip your thighs as he hooks his fingers into the sides of your underwear and slowly pulls them down.

"Cyar'ika..." he breathes, "you're so beautiful"

And then his mouth's on you.

It's a bit clumsy, slow enough to feel both deliberate and unsure. It may be just Din, maybe having him like this for the first time, anyone, but its devastating.

The way he explores you with his tongue, learning every fold, sensitive spot, taking his time, dragging the flame that's set in your belly, knot tightening as your toes curl. It's overwhelming: the intensity of his focus, the way he seems hellbent on putting your pleasure first―making you feel something.

"Din" you call shakily, hands falling to your sides into fists curled on the sheets as the pressure builds higher and higher, a tight coil ready to snap. It becomes almost unbearable, your knuckles turning white. "I-"

Without thinking, your hands fly to his hair, feeling the brown strands you once saw at Moff Gideon's ship, fingers curling as they pull on locks that have grown longer since then.

Din stops. You gasp at the loss, forcing yourself not to look at him.

"Wh- What happened? Did I hurt you?" you ask, voice laced with urgency and panic as you try to catch your breath.

His voice is rough, "Do it again"

You falter, unsure if you heard well. "What?"

"Please, do it again" he rasps, drunk in pleasure. "Pull my hair. I... I liked it"

Devoid of the helmet, his voice rings much clear, intentions even more obvious.

The confession sends a fresh wave of arousal through you. Hesitating, you reach for his hair again, consciously this time, feeling it in your fingers, playing with it until his breath rags softly and you feel the damp of his sweat pour through your tips. Finally, you tighten them again, pulling harder this time.

A low moan falls from his lips before he dives back in, mouth more demanding, hungrier.

In response, you grip and pull another tug that evokes a ragged, beautiful sound from his throat. His body trembles with intoxicating pleasure as his mouth dives into you yet again.

Every movement of his tongue, every suck of your cunt: he wasn't trying to just get you off, Din was, like everything he did, trying to prove his loyalty and love with actions; no words were easy, but showing you he was yours, his devotion, like this, he could do it.

You can feel his moans vibrating against you, little whimpers of pleasure that he can't hold back every time you tighten your grip.

"Din" you gasp.

Your hips start to move against his face, chasing friction as the pressure builds within.

"Are you close?" Din rasps, and it takes all of you to not look at him. All you can do is imagine the sight of his glistening lips, pupils blown wide. How undone he might look, just by testing you.

You can only nod, a half cry getting lost in the air.

His movements become more focused, determined. His lips seal around you, and it's the closest you'll get to a kiss.

Your vision begins to blur. You pull his hair again, harder this time, with a sharp yank that makes him cry against you.

The coil snaps, pleasure crashing into you as the vibration was the final push to fall into your orgasm, the waves of pleasure crashing over you, blinding you.

He laps softly as you ride your orgasm, like a starving dog until you're left limp and trembling, legs barely able to hold you up.

"Din"

Like hypnotized by your voice, he stops the kisses on your inner thighs and looks at you, feeling his gaze burn over your spent body.

"Yes?"

"Kiss me"

There's silence where you sense both his discomfort and insecurity.

Your chest aches. "I won't look. Kiss me, please"

You hear him sigh. "You won't look?"

"No" you gulp, throat dry, "but before you cover yourself again, let me know what it's like to kiss you"

"Cyar'ika..." he warns.

"I'll be a good girl, Din. But I- I need to do it. I haven't stopped thinking about it since I saw your face. I won't even look at it. Just let me... let me kiss you"

He stays, still.

"Okay" he whispers, voice hoarse. "I'll do it"

You only manage a breathless nod. "Okay... That's okay"

Any price to pay would be worth it if it meant getting to kiss him for the first time.

A fine tremor still runs through him as he removes the helmet. When he lifts it off your face, you hear him sigh in relief at the sight of your closed eyes.

"Good girl" he mumbles, reigniting the fire in your belly.

"Can I... Will you ay least let me touch you?"

He stops, and you know he still hasn't put his helmet on.

"If I can't see you..." you swallow. "I want to touch you, Din"

He doesn't refuse nor allow it.

"Don't deny me" you plead.

"Will it-" he stops, dragging out the words, "will it make you happy?"

You nod.

Then, his hand finds yours, interlocking his fingers with your own. They land on his face, eyes softly tracing through his skin, rough little hairs, and swollen lips, while his breath stutters with desperate hunger.

"Kiss me now"

He leans in, unsure at first, until he's all over your mouth. You feel him stop, heartbeat picking up.

"Do it again"

He locks your mouth onto his, messy, and hungry, like he had a taste of you and now it isn't enough. It will never be.

Like he wants to devour you, memorize the inside of your mouth for something that'll probably never happen, the violation of something so sacred―but your love might be the only religion he will bend his knees for tonight.

The kiss feels like a dying star: exploding, but a light that never goes out. It only fades, into a memory you'll fall yourself asleep too, hidden within desire and the echoes of your heart, chasing that feeling, that high, you'll never get back. Putting your fingers over your lips, to remember his kiss, to feel something. A pressure, to suffocate the one over your heart.

But for now, it's enough.

Because Din bending the rules of his creed for you is proof of his unyielding heart.

And it belongs to you. All of it, tonight.

"Please" he whispers against your lips, the word a needy sound. "I need to be inside you. Please, I need to feel you. Show you you're mine"

You call his name in a cry as he crawled up over you, body covering yours.

"Cyar'ika" he whispers with raw devotion.

The helmet locks. You look up.

"Din" you whisper, looking at the man you love.

He settles between your legs, hips pressing forward, hard length straining against his pants.

Din's breath comes in harsh, uneven pants.

"Do it" you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him down, guiding him to your entrance. He slowly pushes inside, a broken whine coming out of his mouth, "make me yours"

He fills you completely in an aching stretch, but it burns so good.

He doesn't move, just stays there, buried deep inside you, breath in harsh, uneven puffs under his helmet. he was trembling, his breath coming in harsh, uneven pants.

"Please, don't let me go" he whispers, voice muffled against the beskar. "I love you"

"I won't" you promise, "I love you"

Something breaks by the way he looks at you, even through his visor. You feel the intensity of his stare and his moves, slow at first, then with a little more confidence. His thrusts were deep and messy, not fast but laced with desperate want.

Every sound Din makes is a broken whimper, some sounding like your name. He was also clingy, hands never leaving your body, one in your hip, the other laced with your fingers. Even if you can't see his face, the intimacy of everything is overwhelming.

This isn't just sex, but a confession: Din, laying himself bare, every scathed piece under the unbreakable beskar. And you take them as they are, holding him close, meeting his thrusts, whispering words of encouragement against his helmet.

"Say it again" he pants, voice hoarse with emotion, "that you love me"

"I love you, Din" you whisper firmly. You bite back a scandalous moan, "as long as the galaxy stands"

The words seemed to fuel something raw in him, unraveling a desire that makes each thrust deliberate, with an edge: he's desperate to claim you, to mark you as his own.

"Mine" he croaks out, rhythm faltering as his own release starts to build, "all mine"

You come first, a soft cry falling from your lips. Your walls tighten around his length, and that's what makes him come. He looks at the roof, letting out a gasp while his body shudders under the force of his release, a broken call for your name spilling from his lips.

Before his body gives out, you feel it: the strain of holding back, of being the first time.

A single tear rolls from under the helmet and falls over your body.

"Din-"

Wordlessly, he collapses on top of you, body weight pressing you into the mattress. It feels lighter, somehow, than the nights cuddled in the cramped space of the old Razor Crest.

His body, scarred and soft, still trembling through the aftershocks, pale from not seeing the sun and flushed because of earlier events―it's yours for the night.

Din's face remains hidden, yet you can tell he looks at you with quiet, tender, loving eyes.

"Please stay"

You reach up, pulling him closer by his neck.

"I promised I would"

He makes a pause before speaking again.

"...Forever?"

"Well" you look next to you, where Grogu is fast asleep still. It seems nothing can wake him up, "you guys need me"

"That's not what I meant-"

"...as much as I need you too"

He chuckles softly, and you can picture a smirk drawn over those lips you touched moments ago. Kissed, for the first time.

"Din, look at me"

He turns towards you. "I am"

You find his hand, pulling it to kiss knuckles that have killed many men, that have pulled the trigger to end lives. The same ones that pull you closer as he lays next to you, bodies seeking each other's warmth.

"I'm here" you whisper, as faithful as a prayer. Your own creed, "and I'm not going anywhere"

taglist: @klmr0 @zmbi3gr1 @sara-alonso @marcusacacius11 ╱ join dilftown residency !!! -> here

[paulyenvol6]

Skin And Steel

I wanted to write something about Din since the movie just came out, so enjoy this piece of smut :)

Din and you turn the lights in the razor crest off so that you can touch his face for the very first time.

Contains: smut, oral sex (f receiving), kissing, fingering, little bit of edging, praise kink, p in v, dirty talk, unprotected sex, breast play, creampie, gentle and sweet sex, soft!Din, angst, Din takes off his helmet, body worship, implied size difference, they're both a little nervous and shy, vulnerability, fluff, comfort, Din is a gentleman, crying (but in a cute way), established relationship

Wordcount: 6,252

Masterlist Wanna be on my taglist?

You giggle gently when Din pushes you back, his bare fingers grabbing your waist like it's the only place they have ever belonged.

"You're not gonna back out, are you?" you whisper once he has trapped you between his broad body and the wall of the razor crest. At this point, the need to press your lips against his, to touch his face and trace the mouth you have no idea what it looks like becomes unbearable. Like always when you are with him.

"No. Are you?"

That makes you burst into laughter, though you are not sure why.

You feel drunk. Drunk on him, drunk on his muscular body, drunk on the charged air that hangs heavily around you like dense fog.

"No. Why would I?" you murmur and trail your thumb along the visor of his helmet.

You have grown to love and resent it at the same time. You hate it because it is the only thing separating Din and you, it has taken so much from you and keeps taking more, but then again, it's him. It's part of his identity, whether you like it or not, so you would probably forever glare at that visor and feel like you're staring straight into his soul because you simply have to make your peace with what you have.

"I love you," you mutter, softly biting down on your bottom lip as you feel his grasp tighten on your waist.

"I love you too."

Sometimes, it's strange to let the curtains fall and give him so much while his expression and the depth of his eyes are hidden by his helmet. You doubt that you will ever get used to it, although tonight might change that experience.

His touch is feather light as he slides his hands up your sides, gently caressing the side of your breasts.

"I can't wait to feel you," you breathe, your eyes following the motions of his fingers. In response, one of Din's hands reaches up to cup your face, tilting it up a little. You wait for him to say something because you feel that the gesture has solely served the purpose of looking at you before speaking, but he doesn't, which makes you a tad nervous. After his thumb has tenderly swiped over the corner of your mouth, Din sighs heavily and grabs your wrist with his free hand.

"I… I'm ready. I think." He presses your hand against his heart, which allows you to feel his thundering pulse. You have always loved to rest your head on his chest, listening to his heart until you have fallen asleep and carrying the steady rhythm across the edge into the dreamlands.

"Okay," you smile, then take two large strides toward the door. You close it without a word but turn toward him while your finger hovers above the light switch.

Your grin is genuine, yet a little uncertain and vulnerable. Why wouldn't it be? What you are about to do requires trust and love, which you share for one another in unbelievable ways. This is just the last manifestation of that love, you feel.

After you have switched off the lights, the room is swallowed in darkness. There is not even the digital display of a clock or any red flashing lights that are somehow connected to the cockpit. No, Din and you have successfully removed any lamps or other sources of illumination from the sleeping place so that the two of you could carry out your plan exactly as you came up with it a few days ago.

"Follow my voice, sweetheart," you hear Din say, his voice still distorted from the helmet. Good. You have told him that you wish to be the one to take it off when the time comes.

Then, you stand in front of him all of a sudden, or at least you can feel the warmth his body radiates prickle on your skin. Your hands come up to rest on the side of his helmet while he places his palms on the small of your back.

"I'm nervous," Din admits quietly. The vocoder makes his voice sound even softer and more intimate, causing a shudder to ripple down your spine.

"So am I," you smile into the dark, standing on your tiptoes to gently kiss the side of his helmet. "But it's gonna be alright."

"I know it is," he murmurs, then drops his hands to the waistband of his pants. "Do you wanna do it? Or – "

You don't even let him finish with that and immediately begin undoing his pants and quickly yanking them to his knees. It's strange to do it blindly, but fortunately, your hands seem to be magically attracted by his heat and always know where to pull. After he has toed off his shoes and kicked off the piece of clothing, his shirt is next in line. You struggle a lot more with all the countless buttons and buttonholes, which draws a low chuckle from Din after a while.

"Do you need some help, darling?"

"I can do it," you protest and bite down on your lip in concentration, ignoring his teasing tone.

"I know that you can. I could make it faster though."

"Shut up," you scoff and finally slide his shirt off his shoulders, letting it drop on the ground next to him. It's not needed anymore. In fact, you wish it would never be needed again and this moment would never end. The lights would forever be turned off, his body in its purest form forever pressed against yours.

The next thing you feel is Din running a hand from your hip up to your shoulder.

"Can I?" he asks like the gentleman that he is, tracing soothing circles over your skin.

"Yes… Unless you need my help, of course."

He only reacts with a quiet snort and then starts the same process you have just finished with your clothes. You stay still, your lips curved while you feel his hands all over your body, at your waist, your chest, your hips and thighs. Obviously, he does way more than he has to and slides his palms over your flesh long after your skin is already exposed. You don't mind it, of course, even though you can't wait to finally take off that last remaining thing on his body. Well, you have waited for years, which means you can also wait another few minutes. Especially when waiting feels so good with him…

When Din feels like he's done, he brushes your hair over your shoulder, making it fall down your back.

"You're really pretty… So pretty, it just – drives me insane." His voice is hoarse and raspy, and now that the air around you is dark, you're so much more aware of every little noise he produces. All your other senses work better that way, which prompts you to pay more attention to Din's unmistakable scent of peppermint and parchment. Both fresh and grounding.

"Thank you," you whisper and feel your heart rate pick up as your boyfriend leads you to your shared bed, which is just a mat on the floor of the Razor Crest, but over time the two of you have made it a very cozy corner with all those blankets and pillows.

Din sits down with his back against the wall, like the two of you have discussed it. You feel a tad dramatic thinking about how you have gone through every little step even though the two of you have slept together so many times before. Still… it's different tonight.

"It's weird," he laughs gently while you lower yourself to climb in his lap as elegantly as possible in the dark. "Not seeing you."

"Yeah, well… Now you know what it's like for me every time," you grin, relaxing the second Din has you securely in his hold and manhandles you on top of him. Your knees are on either side of his hips and your hands are on his helmet at once, lovingly gliding them along the metal. When it's one of the only things of him that is accessible to you, you learn to appreciate it regardless of what a burden it poses in your everyday life. It's him, after all. Even though the material is so much colder and sleeker than his skin.

"I don't know how I would do it. If it was the other way around." Din rubs your naked lower back while his head dips lower, resting against your chest. "I don't know how I could stand not seeing you."

"I don't have a choice, do I?" you murmur and hope he doesn't notice the tremor in your tone.

Tears well in your eyes at his words, not because you're mad at him or disappointed in him but because he has hit a nerve. You don't know how to stand it most nights as well, and these feelings are so complex, you're not sure you are capable of understanding them yourself. How could you possibly try to explain them to him? You love him so much, it hurts not to be able to look into his eyes. And you hate that you can't see him without his helmet, but what is possibly even harder is accepting that there is no one you can channel your anger to. It's not his fault, so all you can do when he apologizes to you is kiss the top of his helmet, tell him that you're not mad at him and mean it. Because you do.

"Thank you," he growls and slides his hands up your spine, pressing you against his frame with so much force, you gasp quietly. "Thank you for – for doing all this shit. For – giving me the choice to love. I never – I never believed it would be an option. So what you're doing to me is the greatest gift I could ever imagine."

You don't answer at once because you fear you might burst into tears if you do. Instead, you bury your hand in the nape of his neck and rub his warm flesh, just feeling and savoring his presence. It's Din, it's the person you love regardless of any night you spend awake, staring at the ceiling and craving things you know you'll never have. It's the man you would sacrifice anything for, the man you quite literally travel through space for. Just to be with him.

"Can I… Can I do it?" you ask after a while, straightening up to make out his helmet in the dark.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Whenever you feel ready."

The truth is, you have felt ready for months, yet you take another beat, exhaling heavily before your trembling fingers drop to his neck.

"I'm really nervous," you chuckle and swallow hard while you start lifting his helmet.

"So am I… You don't know how much…"

The helmet is weightier than you have expected it, but it grounds you in some strange way. When you're done, you place it on the floor next to you, careful not to give it a scratch. Everything that follows once you sit upright is more overwhelming and more breathtaking than you could have ever anticipated. It's just a helmet, that's all. It's absolutely ridiculous to be so taken aback just by the fact that he is sitting in front of you without that single item, but you can't help it. Your heart is thumping in your chest, your hands trembling even harder as you put them on his chest.

"Hey." Your voice is breathy and weak, which is no surprise considering you're shaking like a leaf.

"Hey…" Din sounds different, though it is still undoubtedly him. Just… a lot clearer and closer than before. Maybe a little deeper as well.

"I… Can you say my name, Din?"

He does, and it causes a tear to roll down your face, catching on your upper lip. After that, you draw a deep breath and snivel faintly, which prompts him to cup your cheek with his hands and wipe the single drop away.

"Can I touch you?" you ask next, feeling grateful that he doesn't try to comfort you in your tears. It's simply what you need right now, and it feels too good to blink the wetness away. You don't know if his voice attempting to calm your demeanor would cause your tears to dry or only make you cry harder, but you don't want to find out, really. For now, everything is fine, even in spite of the overwhelming emotions you go through, the ups and downs and the helplessness spreading through your system.

"Yes. Wherever you want, darling."

You start at the base of his neck because it feels right to make your way up slowly. Meanwhile, Din's hands settle on your sides, tracing slow patterns but leaving you in control of the pace, the passion of the moment and everything else, which you appreciate. You can take all the time in the world, touch and explore his skin for as long as you want to, and you have a feeling in your gut that it is going to take a long time until you're done.

"Din?" you murmur after a few minutes, your hands lingering just below his chin now.

"Yes."

"Can you – describe it again?"

"Yes… Of course, sweetheart," he whispers and knows precisely what you want without you having to spell it out.

"I have hair on my face. Not a lot, not very thick hair… But some on my chin. And on my cheeks. And above my mouth."

You nod slowly, not minding that he can't see it.

"And your eyes are brown."

"Yes. They are. So are my eyebrows."

"And your nose?" You shift on his lap a little, moving closer to his chest.

"I don't – I have no idea how to describe noses, sweetheart."

The two of you laugh in unison, which causes a few tears to drip onto your own wrists. Then, your hands wander up further, and for the first time, you feel his chin beneath your fingers. Obviously, it's impossible to determine what he might look like just from feeling his bones and skin and hair, but you don't care about that right now. As he has told you, there is stiff hair that pokes into your fingertips when you trail your fingers over his beard. When you move them along his jaw, you can detect the end of it close to his ear.

"Careful, darling," Din whispers and squeezes your waist. "Don't hurt yourself. They can sting."

"I don't mind. I like it. That you have hair on your face."

Truthfully, you haven't met many people with beards before. Most people in the small town you grew up in were clean-shaven. You don't know why that is, but there is one thing you know for sure: you really adore what Din's face feels like beneath your touch.

While your boyfriend's palms travel up your thighs, you work your way up his face until you find his nose, which seems broad with a small curve in the bridge. You trace it with your fingertip, then move along his nostrils.

"I like it," you smile broadly, shifting yet another inch closer until your chest is flush with him.

"You like my nose, baby?"

"Yes… I think it's very beautiful."

After you're done with his eyebrows and forehead as well, you lean in and kiss his chin. It's strange to feel his beard tingle against the skin around your mouth, but most importantly, your body is flooded with joy and relief. You can't count how many times you have wished you could cover his face with kisses, his mouth, his cheeks, his chin, nose and forehead, and now, you finally get to do it.

"Din," you whisper, more tears falling from your waterline.

"I know, baby… I know." The charged air stirs as he speaks. You can't help it anymore, you lean in, close the distance and press your lips against his. You have experienced many vast and touching moments in your life, but this one definitely counts as one of the grandest of them all. At first, you forget how to breathe, your lungs forgetting how to work, as though petrified, just like the rest of you.

"Breathe, darling…" Din calms you, noticing your quick, uneven breathing. All you can do is whimper softly, your lips hovering inches above his soft mouth. Everything about him is so incredibly warm and mellow, even the sharp hairs on his chin, if that makes any sense.

"I want – " you start but don't finish the sentence because you don't know how to express the needs and wants you feel so deep in your stomach.

"I know… I know, darling. I got you. Do you wanna lay down?"

You nod since you feel that it might be best to give up some control for Din to take the reins. You feel exhausted just from the simple act of holding yourself up in his lap, and your body is still shaking so hard, you wish to just be covered by his wide, muscular shoulders. But there is one thing you demand, one thing you definitely can't go without yet.

"Please kiss me," you mumble while Din carefully flips you over, a knee pressed between your thighs and his body caging you in.

"Whatever you want, sweetheart…"

He is so unbelievably cautious and tender with you, it makes you think of yourself as a breakable vase or a glass sculpture. Every single gesture, his hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers teasing the swell of your breast as well as his deep, vibrating voice when his mouth hovers close to your ear. He kisses you everywhere, on your chin, on the tip of your nose, on your brow, your hairline, your ear and even your eyelids. That last part makes you giggle so hard, Din joins you, and for a while he just rests on top of you, his face squeezed against your brow as the two of you calm down from your outburst.

"I wanted to do this so badly… Kissing you. Kissing every part of you, my love. I don't – I don't even know how I made it so long without it. You're so beautiful, so perfect and I just – I need to show it to you." He has growled that last sentence against your temple.

Meanwhile, you bury your fingers in the back of his head, twisting the strands around your digits. Dark brown, as you know. At least that is what Din has told you. When you asked him about whether they were curly or straight, he wasn't able to give you a straight answer and said that they were flat after a long day of wearing the helmet but curly right after a shower.

"Please, Din," you beg him and sling your legs around his waist, trapping him against you.

"Do you want me to show you?"

"Yes. Yes, please." You have no clue what he has in mind for you, but it doesn't matter as long as it's him doing it. You would prefer it if it involved his face since this is the one time he has taken off his helmet, but regardless, you're not going to complain. Din shifts on top of you again, kissing you on your mouth and sliding his hand down your front.

"Are you gonna let me kiss you there? Between your legs?"

Your breath hitches at the proposition, your teeth instinctively grazing your bottom lip. He has touched you there before, made you unravel with his skilled hands, but his helmet has made it impossible to do that so far. You don't hesitate for obvious reasons and instead nod over and over again, so rapidly that you're positive Din senses the movement despite the darkness engulfing the two of you.

"Yeah?" he says, the grin tangible in his tone.

"Yes. I would love that."

"I've always wondered what you taste like, love… You look so pretty down there, and you're… so soft." He talks like he's already dreaming about putting his mouth on you, though he is still at your lower belly, pressing open-mouthed kisses across your skin which leave wet patches.

"Are you gonna hold my hand, Din?" you whisper before he can dive in, blindly reaching down, but you can only grab air.

"Of course, sweetheart." You feel it, his fingers finding the tips of yours and then tangling them with his.

"Anything you want… I just wanna make you happy."

"I am already," you laugh quietly, parting your thighs wider as you feel him settle between them, his face on the same level as your wet cunt.

"Well, then I want you to be even happier."

"I don't deserve you," you mutter under your breath, gripping the pillow next to you with your unoccupied hand to brace yourself for whatever his lips on your pussy is going to feel like.

"You're saying you don't deserve me… You and me both know that's not true. You're a goddess. And all I can do is make an effort every single day and hope to at least be worthy of you one day."

"Shut up," you chuckle, lightly squeezing his hand while you feel heat rise in your cheeks.

"I'm just telling the truth, darling…"

You want to reply to him, but whatever you would have come up with catches in your throat as Din encloses your pulsing clit with his lips in that moment.

"Huh. Fuck…" you groan and throw your head back, digging your nails in his flesh in a way that must surely be painful for him. But you just can't help it with the small electronic waves undulating in your system, your heartbeat quickening. You need something to hold onto and bury your claws into when the tension becomes overbearing.

"Din," you whimper, rocking your hips forward to show him how much you enjoy his treatment. He has his lips around your bundle of nerves, kissing and sucking it into his mouth while his index finger drags through your folds to play with your wetness. He doesn't push in yet, he just toys with you, keeps you on the edge of your seat, offers additional sensation to the swipes across your clit.

The experience is so new and familiar at the same time. It's like you can feel Din through and through with every single fiber of your being, and it's so unmistakably him, but then again, it has never been like this before. It's good, though. That much you can tell already.

"You taste perfect… So sweet and warm… Even better than I imagined." His voice sounds a little muffled with his head trapped between your thighs, but you can still understand him clearly.

"Feels – very good."

"Yeah? You like this more than just my fingers?"

You think about his words for a moment, remembering what it feels like to have his thumb press gentle circles into your clit.

"You don't have to decide, princess," Din chuckles deeply and hollows his cheek to apply pressure, then lets the little nub go with a plop.

"I like both. Equally."

"How about this then?" he whispers and begins feeding you two of his digits, his index and middle finger. Since you're properly drenched, it doesn't take a lot of work for him to work them inside, and you only feel a slight sting while your walls opening up welcomingly for him, which Din rewards with a low growl bubbling in the back of his throat.

"Oh," you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way he uses his teeth to carefully nibble at your clit. You don't even know which part to pay attention to, everything is so good, you wish you could preserve the thrill, store it in the back of your mind and come back to it whenever you feel the wish to. It's overwhelming and messy, still you wouldn't want it any other way.

"I wish I could see you…" he mutters after a while during a brief break to catch his breath. The fingers thrusting and curling inside you don't come to a stop, though, which continuously causes sweat to gather on your forehead.

"I wish I could see you too, Din," you whine into the darkness, gripping his hand so tightly, you fear you're cutting off his blood flow.

"Fuck… The way you sound, baby. How you say my name… Just keep saying my name, love, okay?" He dives back in, which doesn't allow you to respond. You can't, given the way your head immediately starts spinning as he draws circles around your clit with his tongue, his spit smeared all over your pussy. You love when he plays with you for so long, there is wetness everywhere, on your thighs, on your lower belly and on his hand and wrist. Now, with his tongue swirling around your clit, he can add even more lubrication by trickling his spit onto you, which you find beyond endearing.

"Din," you squeal, rolling your hips into his face, which he praises with a dark grunt.

"That's it, sweetheart… Just like that. I just want you to feel good, I want you to take anything from me. You're so fucking pretty, so good for me. You taste like honey, darling… So perfect." His sweet talk, but above all his husky tone, causes you to turn even more feral. Soon, you scratch the back of his hand like a rabid animal, panting heavily while stars dance across your vision.

"Oh fuck. Din, I – " You want to tell him that you're close, that it might only take one last swipe to push you over the edge, but it takes you another two attempts until you can spill it out.

Din doesn't rush you. He acts like he's willing to spend another two hours between your legs, and that feeling stretches even after you have come down from your thrilling high which has left you gasping for air greedily. By now, your limbs are sprawled out and even your hand still grasped by Din is lifeless and limp.

"Fuck…" you sigh and lift your head only to remember that it isn't just your sight that's black but the room is actually darkened.

"How are you feeling, my love?" he murmurs and glides his hand up your thigh without attempting to change his position. He's ready to go for a second round, but for now, you have different wishes.

"Din…" you whimper, threading through his silky hair.

"Yes… Is everything okay? Do you need something?"

"Yes," you groan and gently tug at his strands. "Please… Come here, I – I want you to fuck me."

Yes… that's it. His weight on top of you, his lips all over your face like before, his cock driving in and out of you. You can't come up with anything more appealing than this imagination.

"You want me to fuck you? Is that right?" he chuckles but follows your request by crawling up to you. The mat tangibly dips under his weight and you feel your skin burn where he touches you instantly. And shit, he touches you everywhere. Your chests are flush against each other, his hips seem to fit against yours perfectly and now his lips are on the curve of your neck where he inhales deeply as if to savor your scent.

"Yes… Please. I need you to be inside me. Deep. I want – "

You stop again because you feel frustrated all of a sudden. Fuck, you don't know what you want, you just want him in every way there is, you want every version of him, you want him always and all the time and – most importantly, you don't want him to ever put that mask on again. You know that you're being selfish and insensitive for thinking that way, but this is just your mind, and it's the one place you can allow yourself to feel everything. It's the truth. You wish Din wouldn't touch the helmet again and let you see him from now on. Obviously, you would never ask it of him, you wouldn't even say that thought out loud, but it's how you feel deep inside.

"What is it, sweetheart?" Din asks, sensing the panic resonating in your voice.

"I just – want you. Please."

"I'm right here, baby…" He brings his mouth to yours again, parting his lips to show you just how present he was.

"You feel that, darling? You feel me? That's me burning for you."

At first, you're unsure whether he's talking about his hungry lips, but then you feel a bulge grinding against your thigh. He's rock hard with want.

"Do you want it inside?"

The question is unnecessary in your head, but you know that Din likes to edge you and make you wait just a little longer when you need it the most. It's the only time you think of him as mean, maybe except for when he had a long day and is a little snappier than normal.

"Yes. I want it, Din. I wanna feel you in my belly."

"Naughty girl…" he chuckles roughly but guides his tip to your slit as if it has been a command. "I want you to breathe with me, love. Do you hear me breathing?"

He stays silent so that you can listen to him drawing in his heavy breaths.

"Yes."

"Good… I want you to breathe with me. And relax… I'm right here, baby. Right here on top of you, and I'm not going anywhere. I'm yours, darling. And I will be forever. I don't even have a choice, because I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life."

Naturally, his words make you tear up, your throat bulging as you swallow.

"I love you."

At his last word, he starts pushing inside you, sliding in effortlessly due to the extensive procedure of preparing you for him. It probably also has to do with the fact that your body is completely at ease as it rarely is. You can't see his face in the dark, but right now, you feel like you do. The contours, at least. But it doesn't matter really because what the two of you have is greater than the dark or that helmet or the distortion of his voice when he speaks to you.

"Din," you whimper, closing your lids as you feel him fill you with his length. He's massive, thick enough to stretch your walls beautifully and long enough to reach deep inside you, right there where you're particularly sensitive.

And he knows. He knows where you need it, where to press firmly and where to treat you with cautious care. He can play your body like an instrument, which is why you pant like a dog minutes after he has started fucking you. His hips crash into yours, his thumb attached to your clit like there's not a single more attractive place to him and his lips showering you with kisses, just as he promised.

"So g-good," you stutter and move your hands over his cheeks, drinking in the feel of him because you know it's something you can't do often. The coarse hair, the wrinkles you trace on his brow, the sweaty temples.

"You feel incredible, princess. So good for me. Feels like your body was only made for me… To be filled by me."

"Mhm… yes," you shriek. At this point, Din has found a steady rhythm, causing your body to jolt up on the mat and your head to be pushed into the cushion below, which you don't mind in the slightest. You're comfortable with the blankets and pillows around you, but most importantly, Din is on top of you, and fuck, he is really set on making you feel wonderful tonight. At one point, he stops while deeply buried inside you, just to give you a moment to experience the fullness.

"Do you like that, baby?" he whispers in your ear, then kisses the corner of your mouth.

"Yes. Yes, Din, so much… Please."

"Please what?" he asks, sounding genuinely interested to hear what you crave so badly in order to give it to you.

"I want you to cum inside me," you whisper and arch your hips to get closer to him.

You know that Din is going to pump you full of his seed if you ask him. He nearly always does when you demand it, even though both of you know that it isn't the right thing to do. The right thing would be for Din to pull out before he orgasmed and for you to stop putting such ideas out into the open. But sometimes, bad things feel too pleasant to do the right thing, and tonight of all nights, you can't bring up the strength to be tough.

"Anything you want, love," he utters, and you haven't expected anything else. "But first, I want you to cum again. You think you can do that?"

His finger lightly ghosts over your cheekbone before his mouth falls onto yours once more, stealing away your breath and ability to speak. Part of you wonders why he even asks you that if he's going to silence you with his lips anyway, but a larger part just melts into his touch like butter under the sun. You reach your apex moments after that, which takes you by surprise. Like so often, your body betrays you and unravels at an unexpected time, just because Din is making you feel so incredibly good, pressing his thumb into your blazing clit, his cock sliding in and out of you slowly but forcefully.

"Fuck…" you whine out, limbs stretching away, which surely must create a rather unnatural and strange view if anyone could have seen it. Something within you explodes for the second time tonight, coating your vision white for a brief second before warmth floods through your veins. A beat after your body and soul have come back together again and you blink away the heaviness on your lids, you realize that Din is a split second away from orgasming as well, which prompts you to drape your arms around his neck and yank him closer to you. Without a word, you kiss him, but you hope he still knows all the things you haven't said from the way you devour him.

"I'm gonna cum, darling… fuck. Gonna – fill you up – Oh shit. Oh shit, oh – "

His head crashes into your face, his brow resting against your cheek while you feel his warm release overflow your spent pussy. This moment, the skin of his face and yours connected, is so remarkable and special to you, you already know that you're going to hold it close to your heart. Forever. Sure, you hope that this hasn't been the first and last time Din and you turn the lights down in the bedroom so that he can take his helmet off, but this night, the first time he makes love to you with his face revealed, is exceptional.

"Fuck…" Din groans, his nose scrunched against the side of your face. "Fuck, the way you took my cum, baby… So perfect. Made for me, like I said earlier. You see how perfectly we fit together? How perfectly your pussy takes me every single time?"

His voice is quiet, so intimate and close that you feel it vibrate on your skin as well as in your chest and stomach and even your thighs.

"Yes… So good – Din."

By now, you can barely hold your eyes open, which Din hasn't noticed earlier for obvious reasons. But now, given that you are babbling like you are drunk, he exhales gently, which resembles amused laughter.

"Are you sleepy, princess?"

"Yes. So sleepy, Din."

The darkness doesn't help in the slightest, no, it rather makes you feel like you're already in the lands of dreams. Your muscles are languid and heavy, your mind drowsy and your pussy just a little bit sore. Not enough to feel genuinely uncomfortable but enough to wish to spend the rest of the night in Din's arms while he holds you against his chest.

"That's okay… That's okay, love," he coos and rolls off you to tug you closer to his collarbone. "It was a lot today… But you did so wonderfully. I'm so proud of you. And I'm – I'm sorry."

The next day, when you try to remember what he has said to you a moment before you have dozed off, you're not sure whether he has actually apologized or if it has happened in your mind.

The part that throws you off is that apologizing didn't quite fit into the conversation because what would he be sorry for? For the staggering orgasm he has just given you? Well, you don't know if he has truly said it, but what you know is that you have been granted heavenly rest after that night.

Like you intended it, you fell asleep with his large body spooning you from behind, ensuring that not a single sheet of paper could fit between your bodies, which fit together so well, like puzzle pieces.

[punkshort]

Anywhere you go, I'll follow

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader

Summary: Din saves you after your home is destroyed, giving you both a chance to finally come clean about your feelings.

Warnings: language, descriptions of death/violence, longing/pining, hurt/comfort, angst, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, unprotected piv sex, dirty talk, reader wants his baby real bad

WC: 5.9K

---

He knew something was wrong before he even landed.

Naxore was never what one considers a paradise, but the dusty planet never looked as ashen as it did from this distance.

It was small, but it managed to house about one thousand citizens. From his experience, they're good people. They mind their own business and require very little from the galaxy. Most of what they eat and use gets produced right on the planet itself. It's small, ugly, and hardly a blip on the radar. This never stopped the people who live there from loving it with their whole hearts.

When he first arrived all those years ago, ship in desperate need of repair and Din in desperate need of hiding, the citizens welcomed him. They fed him and cleansed his wounds without a second thought. They put their lives and their little planet in danger to keep him safe. And when he left, the doctor who tended to him and gave him a bed said, Keep Naxore a secret.

And he did. But whenever Din had the chance, he would stop by and pay them a visit. He brought goods and wares from other planets, trinkets and toys for the children, and anything else he could think of they might find useful.

He always stayed with the doctor, whose wife passed on before Din had ever arrived, but still had a daughter.

You.

He told himself he was being kind, that the reason for his visits were virtuous, but deep down he knew it was you that kept him coming back. After every visit, he became more and more infatuated. Less and less time would pass before his next trip, just so he could get a glimpse of you, and when he was away, his thoughts were consumed with your laugh, your smile, the way your eyes sparkled when he unveiled to you whatever little gift he brought. He thought of you constantly. He longed for the conversations you would have, all alone, late at night around the fire. He grew hooked on your every word, eager to learn as much about you as possible. You would tell him stories of your mother, of the children at the school where you taught, how worried you were for your father as he aged.

You never once spoke of a partner, and he never asked. It would be considered too forward. Besides, what sort of life could he offer you if he tried to make you his? A bounty hunter, living a life of danger with no real home?

No, you were safer with your father.

Still, he enjoyed his visits. It temporarily satiated his thirst to be near you, to listen to you speak, to watch the way your nimble fingers worked to mend clothes or knead bread.

Din didn't have many pleasures in life, but that was certainly one of them.

So as he began his descent and saw your little planet was barren, his heart sunk. He discovered once he stepped off the Razor Crest that what little trees and foliage you had are burnt to a crisp. Everything is grey, death looms everywhere. Corpses, nearly skeletons now, litter the streets. Buildings collapsed, rubble crunch under his boots, and the entire town is silent, yet he still follows the familiar path to your father's house. He knows what he's going to find, but he can't stop himself.

Sure enough, when your house comes into view, his suspicions are confirmed. The entire building is leveled to the ground. He stumbles a moment, fighting the pain swelling in his chest. Not much is recognizable, but there is a chair that used to be in the sitting room. The same chair you used to sit in while he regaled you with his stories.

He falls to his knees then, and dips his head, fighting the urge to cry. He isn't even sure why he bothers. No one is alive and he still has his helmet on, yet he still blinks back tears.

You were so young and beautiful. You had your whole life ahead of you. You were kind and thoughtful and patient with the children in your class and with your father.

His gloved hand digs angrily into the dirt, fingers curling like he could find some answer for his pain. If he just visited more — if he took you with him, like he always wanted — maybe you would still be alive.

He feels sick. Enraged. His heart splits in his chest and his body folds over, slowly, as if the weight of his agony was trying to bury him.

Just then, there's a noise. It sounds as though someone's walking over the rubble, albeit much softer than he just did. His breath stalls and he scans the area, freezing with his hand on his blaster when he spots the source.

He can hardly believe his eyes. Yet, there you stand. Dirty, ashen, hair a mess and clothes torn. But still, you're there.

He blinks and a tear slips past his defenses. He's convinced at first he must be hallucinating, but then you move again, looking at him like you must be thinking the same. Like he's a mirage.

When you get closer, his hand falls from his waist and he slowly brings himself to his feet. He refuses to tear his eyes away, afraid if he does, you'll disappear.

Finally, you slowly raise your hands to cup your mouth. Your eyes crinkle and streaks of wet trail down your filthy cheeks and you call out his name with a broken sob.

"Din."

He closes the distance in a heartbeat. His arms wrap around you and he feels your body heave, bawling and shaking in his arms. He murmurs your name, tells you you're okay, and promises to take care of you.

You nod and continue to cry. Your fingers grab at him, searching for comfort. They slide over his steel armor, feeble fingers clawing at unwavering metal, and he never before felt so angry. Angry at whoever did this to your planet. Angry at himself, for not doing more. Angry at the promise he kept to remain hidden behind a helmet.

He doesn't ask. He leads you to his ship, slowly. Your shoes aren't as good as his and your body seems weak and malnourished. But when it starts to grow dark and you stumble next to him, he scoops you up in his arms. A squeal of surprise slips past your lips but your arms wrap round his neck, anyway.

"You need rest," he says by way of explaination. "I can carry you the rest of the way. I have food and a warm bed. You'll be strong once again, and you will be safe."

You simply nod and lean your head against his shoulder. He feels your warm breath on his neck through his cowl and he has to resist the urge to strip himself of his armor and press his body to yours the second he gets you safely on the Crest.

He feeds you and gives you fresh clothes. He shows you to the fresher, where you can wash up, and promises to wait just outside the door in case you fall or need help. You don't, but he never once leaves his post. When you emerge, your eyes look sunken and puffy. You're exhausted and he knows there was no use in asking you for details that night. He ushers you to his bunk and you crawl inside, collapsing into his cot with a deep sigh of relief.

"I'm going to get us out of here," he says. You just nod with your eyes closed. "Call out if you need me," he adds before flicking off the light. He gives you one more glance before he ascends to the cockpit. You look comfortable. You look at peace. And you look fucking incredible in his clothes.

He stifles a growl and heads up the ladder.

His priority is to get you to safety. Everything else can wait.

---

"If you never take it off, how can you eat?"

Din's eyes flickered up to you through his visor. It's been two days. You nearly slept for one of them. You look healthier and more like yourself now. The sight made him happy, more relaxed.

"I eat alone," he explains. You're sitting across from him at the small metal table that folds out from the wall. You are halfway through your meal, which is nothing fancy, just some freeze dried rations, but based on the noises you made since the first bite touched your lips, you'd think you're eating fresh tiingilar.

Your eyes drop to the plate in front of him, untouched.

"Oh," you say, recalling from his prior visits when he would retire to his room to eat. You always thought it was due to exhaustion or perhaps he didn't want to hear you prattle on about nonsense like you had a tendency of doing whenever he lingered in your father's sitting room. It was always so hard to read him when his face and body was covered in armor.

"What if I turned my back?" you offer. His head tilts and his fingers thrum against the tabletop.

"I can wait," he assures you, then asks, "Will you tell me what happened?"

Your face falls and you look down sadly at your plate. You push around the food and drag in a shaky breath.

"We were attacked," you say. "It happened at night. They ransacked the town while everyone slept. I remember—"

You choke on your words and he stiffens.

"I remember going to the window when I first heard the shouting. I... they were dragging people from their homes. They took the women and killed the men."

Din stops breathing. His jaw tenses behind his helmet. You sniffle, then continue.

"My father built a small bunker underneath our home when I was a child," you say, wiping a tear from your eye. "He hid me down there and I begged him to join me, but he wouldn't — I begged him, Din."

Tears trickle down your face now. He reaches out a gloved hand to stop you, rests it on top of yours.

He knows it's a long shot, but still he asks, "Do you know who these people were?"

You shake your head somberly, eyes drifting now to his hand. You think it over for a moment before lifting your other hand to place on top of his. Your thumb idly rubs the tough fabric.

"I never found another living soul," you whisper. Din's gaze is still locked on your hands. "I searched for days. I suppose it's fortunate my father was a paranoid man."

"Your father was a careful man," he corrects. You smile but it doesn't reach your eyes. He feels horrible because it's clear your heart is torn in two and filled with guilt, yet he sits across from you, brimming with joy and relief that you managed to survive.

"What will happen now?" you ask, "what will I do?"

He swallows and you must hear it because you tilt your head slightly.

"I can take you anywhere you want to go," he eventually says.

You laugh, but it sounds flat. You keep his hand sandwiched between yours when you say, "I have nowhere to go. I've never even left my planet before. I have no one. Well... except for you."

Your cheeks burn. You give his hand a little squeeze before letting it go and even through his gloves, he instantly misses the heat from your touch.

"Navarro is nice," he says, "I have people there that I trust. People who can help you get back on your feet."

"Oh," you breathe. Then you blink and drop your gaze to your lap, food long forgotten. "Yes, okay. That... okay."

He studies you through his visor. He can tell the idea makes you nervous. You're shifting awkwardly in your seat and anxiously chewing your bottom lip.

Then, he says something foolish. Something reckless and selfish.

"Or, you could stay with me. On the Crest. It's not much of a life, but—"

"Really?" you ask, cutting him off. You peer at him hopefully through your lashes and warmth spreads in his chest at being the object you chose to grace with that look.

"Of course. You're welcome here for as long as you wish. I just ask you listen to me," he tells you sternly. He wants to make sure you understand the seriousness of what he's trying to say, but you're practically bouncing in your seat from excitement. "It can get dangerous, at times. If I tell you to stay on the ship, you need to stay on the ship, no matter how bored you might be, or—"

"I will, I promise," you say before jumping up and rounding the table. He barely has a chance to blink before you throw your arms around him for a hug. It's clunky and awkward with his armor, but you don't seem to mind. You're grinning from ear to ear, the happiest he's seen you look in days. He inhales deeply, breathing in your scent through the filter in his helmet. It makes him dizzy. With his soap and clothes, you smell so good that it leaves him breathless.

"Thank you," you say softly. You pull back slightly to gaze up at him and for one second, he thinks you can actually see him. Your eyes lock on his and you hold it, and it all feels so real that it has his breath catching in his throat. Without thinking, one of his hands lifts to cradle your face. You immediately lean into his touch but your gaze never falters. Nobody has ever looked at him the way you did. It cuts him to the core in a way he never imagined.

The air between you grows too heavy and he can't resist quickly scanning your body. Through his visor, he picks up your heat signature is slightly elevated in your face and chest. And he tries to fight the urge, he really does, but he can't help scanning lower. He clocks the temperature between your legs and his cock stirs when his suspicions are confirmed.

"You said you've never left your planet."

His voice breaks the tension. You blink and nod with a smile before stepping back, creating some breathing room between you.

"You shouldn't hide down here, then. You're missing the entire galaxy. Let me show you the cockpit."

Your eyes flicker nervously to the ladder before slowly nodding.

"O-okay," you reply shakily.

Din frowns and reaches for your hand. "There's nothing to be afraid of. I think you'll like it."

Your shoulders square up. Your chin lifts confidently and he smiles when you say, "I trust you."

He climbs the ladder first, then reaches down to help you up. When you clamber to your feet and look around, your eyes grow wide and your lips part with wonder.

"Oh, my..." you breathe, gaze raking over all the lights and controls before settling on the huge windows. He can see the reflection of the stars in your eyes and he can't tear himself away. As he suspected, all traces of your earlier apprehension vanished. You're hypnotized by the way the bright stars stretch and swirl through hyperspace, completely enraptured.

"This view. It's... beautiful," you whisper, unblinking.

With his attention still fixed on you, he replies, "Yes, it is."

Your eyes dart to him and you try to bite back a shy smile when you realize he wasn't looking at the stars.

"I've never flown before," you tell him, "it's so incredible. I can't believe you can do this all on your own."

"Really? Never?" he asks, and you shake your head. "Then we should celebrate," he adds. Your eyes light up when he spins around to a small cabinet bolted to the wall and pulls out a half filled bottle of liquor. As he pours the dark red liquid into two glasses, he realizes he hasn't stopped smiling since you stepped foot in the cockpit.

"What is this?" you ask when you take the cup he offers you. You sniff it and your nose scrunches up.

"It's Mandalorian wine," he says, "try it, it's good."

You take a tentative sip then look up at him with surprise. "It's sweet."

"I don't have it often, it's hard to come by," he admits. Then his free hand unlatches his helmet and your eyes snap to the place his fingers hook under the edge. He swears he notices excitement flicker across your face for a brief moment before you turn around.

"I won't look," you promise.

He opens his mouth to tell you it was fine, that he was only lifting it a few short inches to take a drink, but he doesn't. He sips from his glass and allows himself to take you in fully without your heated gaze pinning him to the wall. He can just make out your reflection in the windows and you faithfully have your eyes squeezed shut, just in case you catch an accidental glimpse. He sips again and his eyes darken. He can feel his body responding to how obedient you are and it's growing uncomfortable.

He slips his helmet back down and when you hear the telltale hiss of the latch, your eyes open.

"Can I turn around now?"

A muscle flickers in his jaw. Fuck, you're such a good girl.

"Yes," he says, voice rough.

You pick up on his tone. Your face warms as you slowly turn around to face him and its imperceptible, but your thighs squeeze together in his fucking pants. It's a good thing you can't see him because underneath the helmet, he is fighting every urge to pull you into his arms. He's sure it's written all over his face. Maker, he wonders what it would be like to be touched by you, to be held by you, to be kissed by you. It's been so long.

You're nervous again, he notes, but not due to fear this time. Your gaze shifts around the cabin and you swallow thickly before pointing towards the controls.

"W-what do all these do?"

He follows your finger. You're pointing to the control wheel and dials right in front of his chair.

He sets down his mostly empty glass and sits. He begins to half heartedly tell you what certain switches and knobs do, and you nod along, sipping from your glass and leaning into the side of his chair.

You lean forward, across his lap, and squint at one particularly important looking lever.

"What about this?"

His eyes slide closed and he breathes deep. You're so close to him he can feel the warmth from your skin through the slivers of exposed fabric that lies underneath his armor.

"It— it's one of the controls that sends us into hyperspace," he mumbles. You hum curiously and take another sip, draining your glass. Your body still stretches over his lap as you study the control panel and he hopes you don't notice the twitching in his pants.

"One of?" you echo. Then your beautiful eyes find his visor. He swallows harshly, leather creaking over his knuckles.

"Yes," he rasps, "there's — well, there's levels I need to check first and a course needs to —"

He stops speaking when you straighten up and sidestep so that you're wedged between him and the control panel. He watches in a haze when your small hands wrap around the control column, right where his hands normally go to steer the ship.

His gloved fingers dig into the arms of his chair.

His legs straddle yours where you stand. If you sat, you'd be right in his lap. His hands twitch and his heart stutters in his chest. You're so fucking close, he could simply wrap one arm around you—

The ship hits an unexpected rough pocket and it jolts. It's small, nothing he would even wake up for, but you're not used to flying. Your knees give out and you fall back, right into his chest.

His arms circle your waist and you let out a squeak of surprise. Then your hands cover his. Instead of pulling them off your body, you tug them tighter and squirm a little in his lap, as if you're trying to get your bearings and stand, but it's taking just a little too long.

Din murmurs your name and you still.

"Cyar'ika, I'm a patient man. But you're testing me, and I think you enjoy it."

He can't see your face, only your back and shoulders, which tense at his words. There's a long pause as if you're trying to decide your next move and he holds his breath, hoping he didn't read things wrong.

Then, your shoulders drop.

Your fingers loosen around his hands but still remain in place, holding them to your stomach. When you tilt your face to the side and look at him over your shoulder, you give him a sly grin.

"Am I that transparent?"

He doesn't respond right away, but his cock does. It swells underneath you and a soft noise that has him forgetting how to breathe slips past your lips.

"Din—"

He shakes your hands off his so he can pull frantically at his gloves, one at a time. They drop to the floor, then his hands are back on you again. Your eyes flutter shut and you tip your chin up when you feel him — really feel him — for the first time as he explores the skin under your borrowed tunic. It has been so long since he's felt the warmth of another that it makes him weak. Under his helmet, his jaw drops open in wonder. You're breathing heavy, he can feel it, and it's making his vision blur.

He cups your left breast and you whimper before leaning into his hold. Stars, you're so soft and warm and perfect that he never wants to stop touching you.

Your body sags against his chest when he rolls your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your back presses against his beskar and your head falls backward onto his shoulder with a loud thud. You wince and try to hide it, but he sees it.

"Sit up," he orders. He releases your breast and you whine but you do as you're told and lean forward so he can remove the metal that covers his upper body.

He eases you down so your back rests on his chest once again. Now, the only metal you have to contend with is his helmet and the plates on his thighs. When the back of your head comes to rest on his shoulder, you instantly twist so you can bury your face into the crook of his neck. You inhale deeply, like you're committing his scent to memory, before fumbling for his hand and guiding it down, past your waistline. His fingers dip underneath your pants and he bites back a groan. The fabric is oversized and loose, making it easy for him to find exactly what he's looking for.

"D-Din," you stammer when the pads of his fingers slide through your slit. Your head rolls and your lips part when you lift your hips off his lap, chasing his gentle touch.

You must hear how fast he's breathing. Even though the modulator muffles it, it's so loud it's impossible you don't notice.

"Maker, you're soft. So soft and wet," he murmurs. You preen a little in his lap, hips rolling so his two thick fingers slip through your cunt, spreading your folds and slick with each pass.

When he sinks both fingers past your entrance, your hand flies back, slapping loudly against the side of his helmet.

"Oh!" you cry out, fingers clutching uselessly at the metal. Your back arches off his chest with a wet gasp when he pushes in all the way to the knuckle, then he's shushing you. His distorted voice is trying to quiet you down but, as it turns out, you both want each other so badly that it's an impossible task, even for a Mandalorian.

"Do you know how long I've thought about this?" he asks, watching the way your eyes pinch shut and your jaw trembles each time his fingers drag in and out of you. Your backside writhes in his lap and he has to use his other hand to keep you still, wrapping it around your waist from behind and pressing his palm flat against your stomach.

"No," you shudder. You're coming apart so easily for him, heat blooming in your chest and cheeks the faster his hand moves down your pants — his pants. He's so hard, his stomach hurts.

"Years," he grits. "Each time I left, I dreamt of taking you with me. Dreamt of your perfect mouth, your beautiful eyes, your smile, your laugh—" He curses under his breath when you clench tightly around his fingers. He can't wait to feel you wrapped around his cock, squeezing him so tight and milking him for every last drop of his release.

"You came b-back for m-me," you stammer breathlessly. "Y-you — oh, f-fuck, Din—"

A thin sheen of sweat covers your forehead. You're grinding down on his hand, back bowed and nails digging ruthlessly into his covered arm. You look so sweet, coming apart on his hand, moaning his name, that he wants nothing more than to kiss you, to taste you.

But, he can't.

So, he settles for driving you wild, for curling his fingers deep inside you, grunting in your ear, rubbing his palm against your clit until your lungs are empty and your entire body is pulled tight.

"Pl-please," you beg, "oh, please. Pleaseplea— I'm g-gonna come," you whine. You gasp hotly against his helmet, holding him so close with a hand still clutching at the back of his head that his visor fogs up.

"Come for me," he tells you shakily, even through the modulator. "Come for me and then I'll fuck this sweet little pussy, just the way I've always wanted."

That tips you over the edge. You moan his name so loudly that it echoes in the small room. You thrash your head around on his shoulder, body convulsing in his lap as he pulls every ounce of pleasure he can, and then your teeth find a small patch of exposed skin just above the collar of his shirt, below his ear. He swears when your teeth pinch him and his grip on you tightens, holding you steady until your orgasm slows and you relax in his arms.

He doesn't give you much time to recover. He can't. He's so pent up, it's making him dizzy. Sliding you off his lap, Din reaches down and pulls on his pants, lifting his hips and tugging the fabric down just enough to free his cock. You're still in a daze, slumped against his shoulder, chest heaving. When he tugs you back in place, leaning against his chest and sitting in his lap, he loosens your slacks, letting them pool to the floor.

In his crazed, lust-filled stupor, he manages to realize something through the fog. The position you're in — with your back pressed against his front — maybe...

His hand fumbles around until he finds the button he's looking for and he smacks it, probably louder than is necessary. You jump in his arms when the cabin goes black, the only lights filling the space are from some switches on the console, too dim to create a reflection. But, if you turn your head—

"Keep your eyes closed."

You open your mouth to ask the question, then clamp it shut and quickly obey. He regards you for a moment, just a moment. He trusts you. You wouldn't look.

A hand comes up to unclasp his helmet and it falls to the floor with a loud thud. You jump again but keep your eyes closed.

He says your name, voice clear to your ears for the very first time. You shudder in his arms and your brows pull together, like a blanket of warmth just passed over you. He smiles to himself, then his hand drops to grip his leaking cock. He presses the thick tip between your thighs and you twitch before spreading your legs as far as you can manage.

He can't wait any longer — his hips flex and you moan in unison as he slides inside your warm, perfect cunt. The way you clench around him, the noises you murmur in his ear — it all adds to the heat building at the base of his spine since you stepped foot in the cockpit.

"M-Maker—" he groans, "you feel so good."

Then you start to roll your hips, tight pussy gripping and fluttering around his length as you try to fuck yourself in his lap. Your legs drape over his thighs, feet dangling near his ankles, unable to graze the hard metal floor for support, yet you still try to work faster, just so desperate for him.

His hands grip your hips, helping you move. Your eyes are still squeezed shut but your mouth is open, gasping for air every time he pushes back inside to grind against a spot that makes you whine through your teeth.

"I've wanted you so badly, it hurts," you confess shamelessly. Something about not being able to see him makes you feel bold. "I would follow you anywhere, Din Djarin."

He groans and nips at your earlobe. You feel his chest rumble against your back and you smile. Your hand falls to where you're connected and your fingers spread, gasping when you touch him. He's thick and hard and soaked with your arousal.

"I always knew you must have had a nice cock," you whisper, still feeling emboldened with your eyes closed. "No one carries themselves the way you do without having the goods to back it up."

You cry out when his hips snap roughly against your ass, and your entire body is practically bouncing in his lap. If it weren't for his ironclad grip around your middle, you're sure you'd have fallen out of the chair.

"Keep — talking," he grunts. His wet tongue slides slowly up your neck before his lips pucker and he begins to suck a mark that will take days to disappear.

"I— I —" you stammer. He's fucking you so fast now, it's hard to think, let alone form a sentence. "I used to — to think about you — oh, f-fuck, right there—"

"Think about me?" he repeats, ignoring everything else.

"Yes," you hiss, then your hand reaches back to slide through his hair — it's thick and a little curly and you commit the feeling to memory before it's taken from you.

"I would think about you — wh-when I... when I would touch myself."

Your stomach muscles begin to bear down and your thighs go rigid. You're so fucking close, you can taste it.

"Yeah? You thought about me when you made yourself come? Thought about my cock in this tight pussy, just like this?"

His deep voice in your ear makes you shudder.

You nod with your mouth hanging wide open.

"Oh fuck," you whimper when the tip of his cock finds a sensitive spot deep inside. You writhe and roll your hips, eager to find the angle again, but Din knows. He knows what you need and he wants to be the one to give it to you, so his hands still your movements and he rocks upward. You're both breathless and sweaty, but it doesn't matter because he's there — he's right fucking there, right at the spot where you need him the most.

Your mouth creates a combination of noises and melted words. There's no sense to be made when he's fucking you like this. You push back, deepening the angle. You both moan so loudly, it echos, but you barely register it.

His fingers fall to your clit and he starts to swirl messy circles over the throbbing bud. Three, maybe four passes. That's all it takes.

You throw your head back violently, his name ripping from your throat as you cunt clenches around him, pulsing and squeezing. Your stomach flutters, the released tension rippling across your muscles.

He doesn't stop. His fingers move frantically and he fucks you through it until your body sags and you whimper when swatting weakly at his hand.

"That's it, that's my g-girl," he groans, abandoning your clit. He wraps his arm around you instead, keeping you upright so he can thrust into you as hard as he can. You moan and bite at his neck, his ear, his cheek... any part of him that's normally hidden by his helmet. You feel the stubble under your lips and you lick his skin, reveling in the sharp prickle across your tongue.

"Come inside me," you whisper. He makes a choked sound and shakes his head.

"Can't."

"Please?"

His movements grow erratic. He's losing rhythm.

"No, it's — too risky."

"Would that be so bad? Don't y— don't you wonder what it would — be like?"

You're babbling. You sound insane. You don't care.

"Please stop," he begs, then his teeth sink into your shoulder and he pulls out of you roughly, just in time to shoot hot cum all over your inner thighs. He's groaning your name into your skin and he's panting so heavily, you fear he may pass out.

"I'm not —"

Din swallows and then he drags in a deep breath. With your eyes still closed, you start blindly peppering kisses across his cheek.

"I know," you mumble, "I'm sorry."

Suddenly, his fingers pinch your chin and he tilts your head so his lips press firmly against your own. Your heart stops when you first feel what it's like to kiss him — never in your wildest fantasies did you think you would know what his lips felt like. The trust he must have for you makes you weak and you melt, getting lost in the taste of him when his tongue slides into your mouth.

"I wasn't going to give you my child without kissing you first," he murmurs when he pulls back, but he doesn't go far. His forehead rests against yours and he sighs when your hand lifts to get lost in his messy hair.

"Really?" you whisper in disbelief, but you're smiling like a fool.

"Is that something you really want? With me?" he asks. You don't need to see his face, you can hear the doubt — the shock — that you would pick him out of anyone in the galaxy.

You nod and peck a kiss to his lips. "I'm tired of waiting," you tell him. "We almost lost our chance... I don't want to waste another second with you."

He laughs and you grin when his soft exhale fans across your face.

"I will gladly devote my life to you, if you'll have me," he says.

And yes, it feels fast. But what's the point in waiting when everything you want is right in front of you? You very easily could have died, but you were given a second chance.

And you refuse to squander it.

[reedispunk]

Sight Unseen

Din Djarin x f!reader

summary: over the years he happily fulfills all of your desires, except the one you want most of all: to see his face. cw: 18+, smut, unprotected piv, oral (f receiving), rough sex? a little fluff maybe, longing, dirty talk, language a/n: this is my first time writing Din and I wrote it so fast but I really couldn't help myself after watching that trailer

He was your first. There have been others since, but they’ve never captured you like he did and still does even if it is true that you’ve never seen what lies beneath his helmet. The day he came through the village, you knew right then that there'd never be anyone else like him. Whilst your community was enthralled by the tiny yet powerful companion he brought with him, you were stuck on him. The way he walked, the way he held himself tall, strong, experienced, and you couldn't help but blush any time he lifted his head in your direction.

Din had one rule that you had tried so many times to understand; he'd give himself to you, but you could never see his face. Initially, even though you never showed it, it played on your mind that you were giving yourself to somebody so intimately, yet he never allowed you to see his true self, not without that goddamn barrier. But if you wanted him, and fuck, you definitely wanted him, that was the one small price you'd always have to pay, so you accepted it. 

It became a sort of routine. Whenever he felt like it, after good days and after worse days, he'd arrive at your hut in the dead of night when only you would be aware of his presence. Whilst your village slept cast under a peaceful darkness, you’d wait for him, hoping that you'd hear those familiar gentle creaks of the floorboards letting you know that he was here for you. 

Whenever he calls, you follow his instructions precisely. Standing facing the wall, you'll listen to the sound of his heavy armor approaching you from behind. He'll pull out the silver silk scarf from his suit and bring it over your head, over your eyes, until it's tied to block your vision. You always sense his silent hesitation before he reaches up to remove his helmet. Once he's naked, he'll undress you slowly, his large palms brushing against your skin, never failing to leave a trail of goosebumps everywhere he touches. Once he has you ready, he'll ask you to surrender your body to him in whatever way he desires: up against the wall, sprawled bare for him on the bed, in his lap, anyway he desires as long as that silver silk remains in place over your eyes.

He claims the blindfold heightens your senses, and he's right. But the more he calls, the more he worships every inch of your body under the darkness, the harder it’s becoming not to defy his rule and remove the barrier between you. The pull to cast your eyes over the man who consumes your entire body and all your thoughts every second of the day is starting to drive you insane.

Tonight should have been no different, except it was. He hadn’t shown for weeks, and the ache inside of you to be with him again was starting to mess with you. You were agitated and irritable, and you knew your friends had noticed. So when the creak of the floorboards came a few hours after the sun had dipped, it woke you from your light slumber, an excitement running through your being. The silhouette of his armor, the soft glimmer of it reflecting under the moonlight as he waited for you to notice him, made your tummy flip. He looks big in the doorway, and his size always has always intimidated you in the best possible way.

Following the pattern without a word exchanged, you stand, padding on bare feet towards the wall opposite him. You listen to his slow steps behind you as he steps inside your room. Like always, you wait for the silk blindfold, but it doesn't come. Instead, in the corner of your eye, you notice his helmet being placed down and hear the gentle clink of his suit as he undresses. His breathing deepens as he steps forward and slips the thin straps of your nightgown off your shoulders, letting the fabric slide down your body like a feather until it lands on the wood beneath you. With his palm snaking around your front, it rests low on your stomach as he pulls you back into him, his soft wet lips laying delicate kisses up your neck before they hover beside your ear. You push your naked ass back into his raging erection, aching to feel him again. God, how you've missed this. 

“Please.” You beg.

“Missed me, huh?” 

You nod with a bite of your lip. “You know I did. Didn’t know if you were coming back.” Your hands reach up to entangle in those curls you don’t even know the true color of. Fuck, how you wish you could turn and see the man who knows your body and your needs so well.

“Always coming back to you…” He murmurs, and for a moment you know he’s overthinking that comment; he has a frustrating habit of seizing up any time a glimmer of serious affection slips from his mouth.

“What about-”

“Be a good girl for me; promise you won't turn around.” 

You nod in agreement, but you're not sure if you can truly keep such a promise. 

“Get on the bed, want you on all fours, head down.” 

There’s a vulnerability that washes over you when he watches you do this, but every time it excites you, the anticipation, the curiosity of how exactly he’ll take you tonight. Sometimes he’s slow, gentle and caring. Sometimes he feels distant, the pain or sadness radiating from his body. Other times when he tells you he’s had a successful mission, he’s rougher, more daring, and more dominant because the confidence oozes from him as it courses through his veins. 

Sensing the dip of the bed behind you, your heart begins to race at the way you feel so exposed yet so fucking good bared open to him like this. As you wait, you notice the coldness of the night air softly blowing through the window landing on your skin. In contrast, his hot breath tickles against your ass makes your tummy flip as you anticipate his next move. The tip of his nose brushes against your lower back, trailing down slowly between the curves of your ass cheeks, his tongue instantly darting out as it reaches its destination to taste your pooling desire. Jolting forward from his actions as your breath hitches, his palms instantly grip onto your waist, holding you tightly in place as his mouth explores your drenched cunt, his hums of satisfaction making you even more horny.

“Always taste fucking divine, my love.” My love. You can't help but latch onto those words the second they escape him. He's never called you that; always a man of few words and you can’t help but wonder if he means it.

You can feel your juices coating his chin as he laps at your folds, his wet facial hair against your thighs. He gets lost in the sounds of your moans while he tastes you, his erection twitching at the sounds. When he stops, you whimper in protest, needing more. His hand smoothes up to the top of your back, pushing hard on your shoulders until your head rests down on the sheets beneath you, your ass still high in the air. 

“Please, I need you," you whisper, your ass wriggling, trying to move back into him, but he holds you tightly in place. He parts your ass cheeks with his hands looking down at your glistening folds.

"Shit, it’s been too long. I've missed this view, you all open for me like this, begging for it, baby. Don't think you know what it does to me, d’you?”

His hand comes to your mouth, inserting two fingers deep against your tongue. Pushing them further inside, he gently thrusts them, making you gag around his digits, the vulgar sound making his cock even harder. When he draws them out, the wet pop of your lips makes him groan deeply.

“Gonna kill me one day with the sounds you make. You’re fuckin’ perfect.” He takes himself in hand, his fingers wet with your spit now coating his rock-hard dick before he lines himself up with your soaked entrance. You push back, eager to have his veiny shaft fill you up once again. When he finally stops teasing, the sudden instruction of his thrust pushes your head further into the bed, making you gasp at how perfectly he stretches you. It's like your body forgets just how thick he is. 

"Fuuuuck," he groans, reaching down to grab a handful of your hair, “Always so tight for me.”

In the quietness of the night, there’s only the sound of his hips slapping against yours, his animalistic grunts as he drives into you over and over again, mixed with your desperate whimpers muffled in the sheets. You both know you should be quieter; if anyone found you, you know your dad would probably start a war with Din, but when he’s sheathed so deep inside of you like this, it’s hard to care about what anyone else would think. His free hand lightly scratches down your spine before curving underneath you to your tits. His thumb flicks over your hard nipple before he squeezes the flesh hard, maybe a little too hard, but you don't protest because you enjoy being completely at his mercy, willing to give him whatever he needs.

He pulls tightly, wrapping your hair around his fist as his thrusts start to turn ragged and messy. When he starts to feel your walls fluttering around his thick erection, he releases his grip on your hair, reaching underneath your body to pleasure your sensitive bud, desperate to send you racing over the edge before he spills his load. “Yeahhh fuck, that’s it, darling; almost there.”

As he works you, your body begins to shudder against the mattress as he fucks you even harder through your orgasm. “Just like that, let me feel you.”

Your nails dig into the sheets, desperate for grip as you ride out your high around him. When it passes, your body feels weightless as the energy drains from you. It’s only his strong grip on your waist that’s keeping you in place as he chases his own release, his thrusts getting harder each time. When his pants become too quick, he withdraws, releasing a loud, guttural groan into the darkness as he spurts his hot, thick cum onto your ass, breathing heavy like a feral animal. 

Utterly spent, he drops down onto you. Your damp, sticky bodies joined together as they recover from your mutual highs. He never stays long afterwards; once he’s sure you're okay, he pulls his armor back on too quickly, rushing away before he could be in any danger of being persuaded to stay, leaving you cold and lonely and wishing for more. But tonight it isn’t going unnoticed how he isn’t itching to flee your bed.

“Am I too heavy?” He hums against your hot skin.

“Hmm, but I like it.” Your voice is soft but tired.

“Need me to move?” 

“No, stay… a while longer.” You mumble into the pillow, never wanting to leave this very moment. 

You know you need to clean up, but this is the longest you’ve had him like this, thoroughly fucked, not wanting to leave your side, so you refuse to spoil this yet. For once you sense he’s relaxed, his guard down as he allows himself to get lost in the bliss of the intimate moment you just shared together.

As you lift your head slightly from the mattress, the thin slither of moonlight reflecting into your room allows you to see his body. The rise and fall of his bare chest is starting to slow. You watch as he pulls the sheet up over you both until it lies lows on his waist. He takes your hand, bringing it to his mouth to place a soft kiss on your palm before holding it against his chest. While you lie there not saying a word, getting lost in his soft breathing as he falls into a deep sleep, you don’t realize the time passing.

You still haven’t looked up, scared to lift your eyes, to move up his huge form beside you and land on the one thing you’ve never been allowed to see. But with him sleeping right next to you, the temptation, the desperation to flick your pupils up, becomes all too overwhelming. 

So when you do finally give in, you’re sure your heat skips a beat. His face is cast softly under the white moonlight, and you can’t help but admire the beauty of it. You’d created an image in your mind from his voice and what you’d felt against your skin over the time you’ve spent with him, and of course you knew he’d be striking, but it was nothing compared to the reality of seeing his face beside you now.

His skin looks a little aged, like his experiences as a bounty hunter are finally catching up with him. His brows are knitted ever so slightly as he dreams, revealing the lines across his forehead, and his eyelids flicker gently as he fights his demons within his sleep. You reach up to examine the soft curls on his head before your eyes drop slowly down over the outline of his face, moving over the patchy facial hair that has brushed against your neck and your thighs a hundred times before. He has a jaw so sharp and rigid, and you wonder how one man could possibly be so handsome, even in such low light. There's a flutter of butterflies building within your stomach as you analyze every single detail and scar on his face. You can tell he’s seen more than anyone should, and you can know he’s still holding onto so much hurt. Jesus, there's so much you would like to ask him; you almost wish you could climb inside his mind yourself to make all his pain disappear.

As you watch him, his head begins to move, left to right and back again. His breathing suddenly becomes faster and more desperate, and you feel his entire body beside you tense against the bed beneath you. Lifting your hand, you cup his face as you look down at him. 

You call for him. Nothing. As his nightmare worsens and his body starts to move more vigorously, you refuse to be scared, instead calling his name louder repeatedly until his eyes finally open, landing straight on yours, startled.

For the first time, you're finally looking directly into the eyes of the man you spend your days longing for, the only man you will ever want. In this very moment as you trace a finger along the outline of his face, it feels a thousand times more intimate than anything you’ve done together.

He whispers your name; the sound of it coming from his lips as he searches your eyes makes it sound different than any time before. All his barriers have vanished, if only for a second. He blinks, swallows, and speaks again, his voice louder and more serious. “What are you doing?”

“You were having a nightmare… you were thrashing-” 

“Don’t have nightmares.” He cuts you off.

"Din-" 

“Have to get back to the kid.” 

You shift, moving your head closer to his on the pillow as you stroke the far side of his face with your thumb. “Wait, please... let me in. You don’t have to hide from me.” you search his face, trying to take as much of him in before he inevitably runs away. He reaches up, taking your hand from his cheek with a gentle shake of his head. With a heavy sigh, he sits up looking away so his broad, scarred back hides the view of his face.

He stands, dressing with his back to you. He doesn’t look back until his helmet hides him again. He lingers, glancing down at your naked body sprawled across the bed, and you get the impression he's fighting every ounce of common sense in his body not to stay. But he doesn’t say a word; instead, he disappears off into the night leaving you unsure when or if he'll ever call again.

[auteurdelabre]

At Night

rating: 18+

characters: Din Djarin x F!Reader

summary: After months of silent torture Din Djarin hears the sound of his onboard mechanic pleasuring herself and whimpering his name. He decides he has to do something about it.

a/n: For my sweet @almostempty because she knows why. Now, don't y'all come for me saying "That's not what happens in star wars" because I've barely seen it. This is just some smut for my slut2slut sister.

At Night

It happens every week at the same time. 

Din is always laying in his bed, his helmet off and one arm behind his head. His armor always rests on the end of the bed in an organized pile.  

And then there you are, whimpering directly on the other side of the metal wall. 

"Please," you coo, breathy morphing into a shuddered moan. "Please let me touch you." 

You're alone in there, your own bedroom next to his on the ship. Both are modest, and on across the other side in his small cubby is the kid, likely snoring away. 

If Din concentrates he can hear the wet noise of your fingers in your cunt. He can imagine it too, the way your fingers would look splayed around your clit, the way they'd tease your nipples. 

But he can't do that. He forces his mind to turn to work. Of the upcoming bounty he's been hired to collect. 

You're his employee, experienced with ship mechanics and desperate to travel around the galaxy. Suggested to Din by Karga during a routine visit. 

"Let her work on it this week," Karga had insisted with a clap to Mando's back. "If you're not happy with her work, you don't have to pay her." 

Grogu was besotted with you from day one, watching you with the wires most days, tilting his head and cooing. And you never lost your temper, even when he tried to help with the wires and ended up knocking out the navigation for half a leg. You just laughed, patted his head and told him to go "see your Daddy." 

And at the end of the week you came to him, wiping your hands on a towel and giving him a proud smile.

"She's a beautiful pre-empire ship and now she'll travel to the Outer Rim smooth as lightning.” 

Din had been impressed, taking his time surveying your work, walking around the ship. There were other things that needed to be repaired, things that would take months.  

"I see there's quite a bit more work to be done," you'd observed as if reading his mind. "I don't know how you feel about this, but I've never really traveled off Nevarro. I'd love the chance to travel a bit of the galaxy."

Din just stood there, peering out at you from his helmet. He couldn't understand what you were driving at. 

"Sooooo, I was thinking maybe I could tag along with you for a bit? You wouldn't have to pay me, I have credits saved. Just lodging and food is needed and then," at this point you sighed dreamily, "I'll get a chance to see some of the galaxy." 

It was too much like charity for Din and he was about to tell you so when a sleepy Grogu woke in the crook of his arm and reached for you. You jumped at the opportunity, shooting a charming smile Din"s way. 

"Plus I'll help take care of your kid." 

///

Of course he'd agreed to this, passively amused at how easily you slid into this life with them and now it's been three months of travel, bounties and brief conversation. And it's been two months of this twice-a-week routine you've set for yourself. 

"Just this time," you pant, the bed creaking as you touch yourself. "I'll make you feel so good, I promise." 

Din feels his cock twitching and he frowns. You're not always this vocal, usually just muffled groans and creaking metal. The first time he heard it he assumed you were having a nightmare. He heard the groans and movement and he assumed that you were half asleep. He was nearly out of his own bed to check when he heard the whimper, a sound that crawled down his spine and immediately had him hard. 

It was then that he realized what you were doing. And even though he knew it was wrong he continued to listen night after night. He never touches himself when he hears you, thinking that would be a true overstep. You didn't know he was listening and he was too embarrassed to bring it up.

It makes him short with you, snapping at you or just ignoring you in favor of focusing on other things. If he looks at you too long he can hear memories of your whimpers and moans. The ones that remind him that you’re not just a talented mechanic, you’re an incredibly desirable woman.

You're getting close, you’re panting quicker, the wet sounds increasing. He starts when your hand must slap against the wall of your bedroom for stability and it echoes into his room. You’re so close he’s sure he could touch that wall and feel the heat from your palm.

"Yes! Fuck just like that! Please come inside me!"  

Din bites the inside of his cheek and prays for morning. 

///

You collapse back onto your pillow, cheeks flushed and hair sticking to your temples. You can’t believe how hard you came just now, your hand sliding down from the metal ship wall. You’re panting, your cunt fluttering at the memory.

Din.

It’s always Din in your mind. Din fucking into you, Din whispering filthy things in your ears, Din commanding you come for him.

But it wasn’t always like this. 

When you first started the two of you were cordial. You worked hard, were kind to the kid and didn’t bother Din much. As the time went on things seemed to twist and the normally quiet Mandalorian was suddenly withdrawn and snappish. You couldn’t understand it, but it didn’t bother you much. You'd faced worse verbal onslaughts.

And it would have continued on in this tense partnership if only you hadn’t seen him bring in a live bounty for the first time about two months ago. Normally they're dead or unconscious, but this humanoid was very awake and very angry being dragged in by the muscular Mandalorian. 

"What are you looking at?" The Anzat hissed at you, his nostrils flared as they passed by to the carbonite chamber. “Filthy kronging scum.”

Neither of you had been expecting Din to slam the man into the nearby wall. The sound echoed into the hull of the ship. You heard the crunch of bone and the sharp hiss from the man. You were thankful Grogu was in the cockpit, away from the brutal scene.

"Talk to her again and I'll make sure you don't take another breath."

His sinister sotto voce rasp through the modulator made your blood pump and that evening you brought yourself off twice in quick succession, whimpering in your bed at the memory. Din’s arms, Din’s voice, the commanding way he moved, the scissoring of his long legs as he walked. Din Din Din.

You were paranoid that maybe the Mandalorian heard you that evening but he acted no differently the next morning and it had thrilled you to have this sexy little secret to yourself about a man so formidable.

So why not continue? What started as a sporadic way to blow off energy was now something you looked forward to. You limited yourself to twice a week though. Just to keep yourself sharp. You spent your free time wondering what he looked like under the armor. You saw a flash of wrist once, the color of deep sand and it thrilled you. Is he all gold under there? Is his mouth plush? His eyes sharp?

Tonight however it was too much to hold back. Seeing Din with his blaster raised as he threatened a man who attempted to steal from a poor woman at the market was too sexy for you to ignore. 

Your fingers were in your pants in a hurry that evening, you body arching off the bed in desperation within seconds, desperate to chase the sensation of Din’s phantom fingers and his deep voice.

You think about bringing yourself off again, but fatigue slowly sets in and you fall asleep with a smile on your face, hoping that morning approaches slowly.  

///

The next morning you wake up and shower ready to face the day. You’re landed in a lush and upscale planet with large buildings and rich looking humanoids. You spend your morning and early afternoon doing a check of materials and ship scans, frustrated to note that the antenna on the hanger is loose. Upon closer inspection to the anterior you can also see some of the scanners are cracked.

It must be from yesterday’s flight. Space debris must have chipped away at the patch job Mando insisted on. You sigh and travel into town with the credits Din saves for such expenses. You return empty-handed several hours later. You travel to the cockpit and smile at the sight of Grogu seated on Mando's knee babbling before frowning.  

"The long wave antenna is loose," you inform his back. "Plus the exterior sensors at the back. We shouldn’t have rushed the job.”

Din is turned from you, not willing to make a turn of his head. If he does he’s going to see you in that tight mechanics outfit where you’re not trying to look sexy, but you do when you’re all sweaty. He places Grogu on the jump seat next to him.

“So go into town and get the supplies. Last time I checked that was your job.”

“For your information, I already did,” you snap. “The antenna was in but it was the wrong size. The sensors will take a day to arrive and so will a new antenna.”

You’re coming closer to him, the sound of your boots scraping the metal floor. Din feels his stomach tighten and he wills you to go away. He busies himself with the buttons on the panel, silently praying you’ll stop coming closer.

“So we’ll travel without them.”

“Are you insane?” you’re irritated that he doesn’t even have the decency to turn around and face you. “We’ll be in a freefall within seconds. You’re a good pilot, Mando, but last time I checked you weren’t force-powerful enough to glide through the air without a working nav transmitter.”

“Fine,” Din sighs. “We’ll stay on the ship overnight-“

“The guy at the shop says ship stays are illegal here because of criminal activity,” you cut him off.

"What do you suggest?" Din offers dryly. 

"I think we should get a place in town for the night." 

Din swears under his breath and soon the three of you are in the foyer of a nearby hotel with Din handing over credits for two adjoining rooms.  Grogu babbles in the satchel at his hip, gazing around with large black eyes, fascinated by the upscale patrons who wrinkle their nose at the three of you.

You don’t care, you’re excited by the luxury of this small diversion. The fresher onboard the ship is usually lukewarm at best with soap that smells like bleach. The blankets are scratchy and the bedding uncomfortable. You think about stealing the pillow from the hotel room once you arrive. 

Once inside your separate bedroom you lower your bag to the floor. You can't believe how beautiful and clean and bright everything is. You nearly skip into the tub, reveling in the warm water and sweet smelling soaps and hair cleansers. You change into fresh clothes and give the closed door between you a light tap. 

"Come in."

You walk into the adjoining room to see Grogu playing with his silver ball on the large bed. Din is setting up a small nest of blankets and pillows on the table across the room and you realize it's for the baby. 

"I'm going to grab something to eat at the bar downstairs," you tell him. "I saw it when we came in. Do you want me to bring you anything back?"

Din doesn't answer you at first. He fiddles with something in his pocket before crossing the room and shoving credits into your hand. 

"Just something for the kid." 

"I'm happy to pay."

Din says nothing, just stares at you through his visor. At least you assume he does. You'll never see his eyes so he could be closing them for all you know. You also know that the conversation is closed. 

"I'll get him something good."

Din makes a grunt of acknowledgement and then he's gone back to setting up a small bed for his son. You watch his broad back before moving out the door and down to the bar. 

The place is quiet, populated with a few tired travelers who, like you, need something to eat. You order a curried nuna roll and spotchka. You eat and drink slowly, looking out the window to the bright city. You wonder if you have enough energy to do explore tonight. 

"Hello beautiful." 

A deep voice sounds at your left and you see a handsome man dressed to the nines in expensive looking garb. He wears many elaborate looking braids in his long purple hair. He stands next to your table. 

"Seems we're both eating alone. You mind if I join you? I hate eating by myself." 

You nod shyly. You don't often get to socially interact with others on the job. You're usually blasting from one planet to the next. 

For the next little bit you and the handsome man chat back and forth. He's here for business and he asks you lots of questions about yourself. Its nice to have company, especially one this attractive and attentive.

"All this chatting has me parched," the man eventually says, sweeping a look over you appreciatively. "Can I buy you another spotchka?"

You look at your drained glass and nod. "Yes, thank you."

" I'll be right back, beautiful one."

You blush at the compliment and watch the handsome man walk off, weaving through the tables. You glance back out the window, feeling your heart trip inside your ribcage. It's been a long while since you had sex and this man seems to be putting out all the signals. 

Plus the one man you desperately want to sleep with can barely stand you. But that doesn't stop you from fantasizing about what it would be like to have a man like Din Djarin fuck you. Would he be gentle? Rough? 

Your still internally debating this when the man arrives back with your drink and slides it across the table to you. You realize only now that he's been asking so much about you that you don't even know his first name. 

You're about to ask him just that when you feel a looming presence at our back.

"It's time to go."

You glance over, surprised to the Mandalorian standing behind you. His hands are tight curls at his side. He seems furious.

"What? Why?" You scrunch your nose in confusion. "I'm just having a drink with a new friend." 

"Well your friend dropped something in your spotchka at the bar."

You whip your head back to face the man who looks at Din darkly. He tilts back in his seat, sucking at his teeth as he scans the imposing figure behind you as if he isn’t terrified. 

"And who are you?" 

"A friend."

Mando has never referred to himself as such and a distant part of you is touched by the remark. You kind of assumed he hated you.

"Well friend, I never did anything to this," he insists before tapping the side of your glass. "So you can just keep on walking."

Din sighs through the modulator, obviously tired from the day and the interaction. You wonder if he's going to leave you to get back to your semi-date. He surprises you by leaning forward, his chest plate nearly touching the top of your head.   

"Drink it then."

The man goes from agitated to suspiciously quiet at Dins request. No, not request, his order. The man's light eyes move from Din to you before he sneers.  

"Your father tag along with you on all your dates?"

You're about to reply when Din slowly tilts forward and his voice drops another register.

"Drink. It."

"I'm not-"

Din's blaster is at the man's temple immediately buzzing. He leans over you to do it, the beskar cold on your back. 

"If there's nothing wrong with it then you don't mind drinking it."

The man looks wildly around but Dins broad frame blocks you all from view of the other patrons. Finally his furious gaze lands back on the Mandalorian’s helmet.

"And if I don't?"

"Who said I was giving you a choice?" Din taps the barrel against the man's cheek. "Drink up."

There's something about the dark tease from Din that has a heartbeat between your legs. The man sighs heavily before looking at the untouched drink in front of you. He grits his teeth before sneering at you. 

"This was such-"

"I didn't say you could talk." 

Fuck, why are you so turned on by the sharp way Din commands this interaction? He holsters his weapon for the time being. 

You squirm in your chair slightly as you watch the man raise the glass to his mouth and throw the drink back. He lowers the glass back down onto the table, glaring at Din over your shoulder. 

"Satisfied?" He shakes his head and prepares to stand. "I'm outta here."

He goes to slide out of his chair but Din just speaks in that rasp of his, low and sultry. 

"You'll sit there until I say you can go."

There it is, that thrumming between your legs growing stronger. The three of you sit in silence, the man blinking at the two of you and frowning. You're confused at what Din is getting at when the man suddenly relaxes, slumping slightly in his chair and laughing quietly to himself. 

What the fuck?

You can still feel Din pressed up against you from behind. You even feel the vibration of his speaking through his beskar.  

"Pick up the glass."

The man stares up at Din with a crooked smile and drowsy hooded eyes. "S’empty." 

Din is silent in reply and the man exhales, knowing what will come next if he disobeys. You watch as the handsome man reaches forward and shakily raises the glass, but you note that his movements are uncoordinated. 

The glass clunks onto the tabletop when his fingers can no longer grip it properly. The man looks like he wants to say something ugly but thinks better of it. He tries again to grip it, but he’s weaker than a baby tooka.

"Don't fight it," Din tells the man. "It's inevitable." 

The man goes to reply but you can see the way his lids begin to lower and he starts to tilt forward.  You continue watching the man continue to slump over the table until his forehead connects with it. 

"And now we're going," Din says with a light tap to your shoulder. 

You respond immediately, standing and then Din's got his large hand at the small of your back and is guiding you through the bar to the elevators in the lobby. You shoot him a concerned look. 

"I never got the kid anything to eat."

"He was exhausted and passed out. I'll get him a big breakfast tomorrow." 

He punches the number for your floor and the two of you ride up in silence before you glance over at him. He's such an imposing figure to many in his armor and helmet, but you find him strangely reassuring. 

"How did you know?"

"I know his type and I've seen it before. Drugged you would have felt relaxed and even giddy. He would have suggested you go back to his room and under the influence you would have agreed. They're he would have taken all your credits and if he was feeling particularly bold he'd have some fun with your unconscious body as well." 

You shudder at the realization you were so close to having something happen to you. Thank the Maker Din happened to be in the bar and notice just then. What if he’d arrived later?

"Thank you," you tell him earnestly placing a hand over his vambrace. "I'm so glad you were there." 

Din's helmet tips down to see your hand on his body and you snatch it back, embarrassed. You've never touched each other before. 

The elevator stops and the two of you exit quickly. You head into the room and part from him immediately going into your room. You're so embarrassed at your emotional response you don't even wish the sleeping kid a goodnight. 

///

It's dark and the kid is snoring across the room. Din wears only his pants in the bed. His chest is bare and warm to the touch. And his helmet rests next to him on the bed, prepared to throw it on when necessary. 

He's just drifting off when he hears the soft sound of your whimper through the door. 

"Drink it," you murmur, breath catching in your throat. "Fucking do it." 

Wait, are you getting off to the memory of that asshole from earlier? Just because he was handsome? The thought makes him clench his teeth furiously. Here he is mooning over you and your pleasuring yourself to thoughts of another man. 

"He told you to do it," you groan, "so do it."

Din hears your shudder so much clearer now that only a door separates you

"Fuck, Din-"

Din freezes in his bed, his eyes blown wide. Did you just-?

"Just once," you pant in your room, voice trembling with desire. "Just fuck me once. I'll make you feel so good." 

Din's cock is immediately hard. You're thinking about him in bed right now? The thought makes him feel heady. 

"Right there," you moan, voice growing louder. 

You don't realize how the sound is traveling. He's worried you're going to wake the kid. That's what he tells himself as he pulls on his helmet and shuffles to your door. He could knock and tell you to quiet down. He could snap that you're making too much noise in your sleep and save you both the embarrassment. 

But instead he pushes into your room and snaps the door closed behind him. 

///

You hear the sound of your door opening and closing and you immediately go silent, your fingers trapped between your thighs. Then there is silence. You wonder if you imagined it but there feels like a presence is in the room with you. 

Your face is warm and cunt soaked from your fantasizing. You're irritated that your orgasm is suddenly draining from your body. Still you remain stoic, frightened that perhaps the man from downstairs found you.

"Keep going." 

Din’s husky voice is unmistakable in the darkness. You lay in bed frozen, unsure of what you do or say at this point. He's your boss. You’re sure that you heard him wrong; this is just your fantasy bleeding over into real life.

You hear a creak and then feel the bed dip as he lowers himself next to you. His body is warm and you think he may be shirtless. The thought makes you shiver. 

His wide palm slides down your forearm, trailing down to confirm his suspicions; your fingers are crooked over your clit and your pussy is wrecked. Din's brings his hand to lightly rest over yours, waiting to feel how you touch yourself. 

"I said keep going."

You choke on your reply, exhilarated and terrified. Din has never made overtures towards you and yet here he is wearing his helmet and not much else. You can feel the heat from his skin and a part of you is desperate to lick it.

After a second of hesitation you begin to circle your clit, embarrassed at the wet sounds that occur. You're so fucking turned on right now you're dripping and Din’s hand is heavy over yours. 

Din feels his heartbeat everywhere, his cock, his chest, his ears. He can't believe he's doing this and he can't believe you're letting him. But you're so wet and he's so hard that he feels emboldened.  

"What were you thinking about just now?" 

You want to be humiliated but you're too turned on to deny him. And let's be honest, he's here with you in bed so obviously he's not offended. Even if its just for one night you want the fantasy to be real.

"You. I was thinking about you."

Din feels his breath catch. Obviously he suspected it, but hearing it out loud is something else.

"You think about me a lot?"

"Every time I touch myself." 

Din bites down on his lower lip, wishing so strongly that his helmet could come off in your presence. He wants to kiss you right now, to suck your tongue into his mouth. 

"I think about sucking your cock," you continue to confess as your fingers work faster over your clit. "About how you'd sound if I licked you so softly over and over."

His fingertips feel as your fingers begin to rub quicker against your clit. He swallows a groan, shifting closer to you.  

"What else?"

You don't miss how his voice sounds a little breathless. For some reason that causes fresh arousal to coat your fingers.

"I think about how I want to keep your cock warm while you drive the ship. Just sitting there for hours while you guide us through the galaxy. Not moving until you tell me I can." 

Din groans and you lose your train of thought as he gently urges your fingers from between your legs only to replace them with his own. Now it’s him pressing against your clit, him pinching lightly before rolling the slippery flesh between the pads of his fingers. Your head falls back on the pillow; hips rolling as Din finally touches you where you've always dreamt of. 

"I think.... I think about you fucking me on the floor like an animal," you confess in a hush. You have many times; thoughts of Din unrestrained have you arching into your hand most nights. You feel as Din shifts, elastic snapping and the dry sound of skin along skin.  

"More." 

It takes you a moment to realize that he's brought his cock out of his pants and is stroking himself as he teases you with his fingers.

"I fantasize that behind your helmet you’re watching me."

"I'm always watching you."

This confession has you feeling electric. His thick fingers are slipping inside you, coating themselves in your arousal. For a moment you just let yourself give into the sensation, thighs spread and hands clutching the bed for purchase. 

"Din."

He breathes slowly beside you and you attempt to touch his bare skin but he pulls back. The meaning is clear: he'll touch you, but you don't get to touch him. 

"I watch you when you work and you don't notice me," he continues as his fingers begin to slide in and out of your soaked cunt, the drag and pump making you keen. "I watched you tonight at the bar."

"Why?"

"At first because you were taking so long. And then because I was jealous seeing you with that useless piece of shit."

His fingers are sliding in and out of you quickly. He's fucking your pussy with just his digits and you're seeing stars, he grunts when your body trembles under his touch. 

"Jealous at the thought that he was going to get to fuck you instead of me." 

He didn't realize until tonight that perhaps you wanted him just as badly. He strokes his cock more furiously, the pre-cum drooling over his knuckles, making each tug slick and delicious. Your hips are jumping and he swallows a moan when he feels you start to flutter around his knuckles. 

"Din-"

"Don't talk," he orders in a husky murmur. "Just come for me." 

And you do. You come so loudly that his hand comes off his cock to cover your mouth to keep from waking the kid next door. You taste the salty pre-come from his palm, eyes rolling back as you catch your breath. Din sounds equally spent, despite the sound of his hand furiously stroking his cock. 

"Please," you beg in a cracked voice as you slide down the bed, your fingers lightly tugging his hand from his stiff and pulsing cock. 

 Din feels your mouth circle the tip of him, tongue swirling around the mushroom head. You smile around his cock, taking it deeply and groaning when you hear his unrestrained hiss of pleasure. 

"I think about you," he suddenly tells you in a rumble. 

He feels you pull off of him, tongue darting out to lick a stripe from base to tip. Your heart is thrumming in your chest, a smile blooming in the pitch black that he cannot see. You’re delighted to hear this, relieved that this lust hasn’t been one sided.

"What do you think about?"

"About this right here. Your mouth on my cock." Din swallows as your hand begins to stroke him. "Only wish I could see it."

He feels your hand falter slightly around the base of him.

"Turn on the light." 

He doesn't hesitate. He reaches up to flick the light on before staring down his body to see you there between his legs. Your hair is mussed and falling into in your flushed face, your luscious tits spilling out of your nightdress. You raise a brow in silent question as you begin to suckle lightly.

Well?

Din wasn't expecting it to go this far. He told himself he was just going to talk about the noise carrying over into his room but now you're between his legs with your hot mouth stuffed full of him. 

"Better than I ever imagined."

You keep your eyes trained on him as you take him deeper, relishing the groan that sounds out from behind his helmet. You look up his golden body and hold in a sigh. He's beautiful. 

"Faster," he all but begs, legs shaking when he watches your head bob up and down for him.

Your mouth is stretched so wide, full of him. You're so wet you can't stand it. Despite coming moments earlier you throb everywhere. Your fingers snake between your thighs, pausing as you look up at him with an imploring gaze.

“Go ahead,” he nods.

You begin to rub furiously as he bucks his hips and his cock up into your mouth. He fits there so perfectly, so delicious and thick. Its seconds before he watches the hand beneath your nightdress still and he feels your mouth quiver before you shiver and continue. 

Your soaked fingers come to stroke the base at the same time as you hollow your cheeks and Din feels like he's in another galaxy. He can't help but let his head drop back when you take him to the hilt and you don't gag, you just keep going, eyes closed

He spreads his legs wide, spearing up into your mouth as he looks back down at you. You don't falter, you take every thrust and you want more. It's not long before Din feels his stomach tightening and spine tingling. 

"You want it down your throat?"

You nod, eyes opening to shoot him a cock drunk smile, saliva at the corners. 

"Mhm."

You look so peaceful as you hum in delight around him. That sweet desire is what sends him over the edge into pleasure. He spills himself down your throat, body jerking and strangled noises escaping through the modulator. 

You suck and swallow, not wanting to waste any part of him. When he's finally spent and his legs twitch you crawl back up the length of his body and collapse next to him. He curls around you, arm falling over your middle. He speaks to you in a rough whisper as you fall asleep. 

"Tomorrow morning we can see about that floor fantasy." 

[queenofslowburn]

It's getting tight

Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader (no use of n/y)

Summary: When a mission goes a bit sideways, you suddenly find yourself stuck with Din in a hideout that allows little to no movement, leaving you in a precarious situation - between his legs.

Warnings: +18, MDNI, took the locked room trope to its farthest edge, oral (m receiving), praising, the helmet stays on, forced orgasm if you squint?

A/N: this is the result of a trope survey I did, Din Djarin & locked room came in second. If you are interested in the others just follow the link.

wc: 4.8k

My Pedro-Character-Masterlist

This was… a predicament, to put it mildly.

You crouched inside a storage cavity that clearly had not been designed with a human occupant in mind - certainly not two of them. The narrow compartment smelled faintly of machine oil and old dust, the metal walls pressing close on every side as if the space itself resented your presence.

One person would have been uncomfortable.

Two was a logistical nightmare.

Especially when one of those people insisted on wearing an entire arsenal of beskar plates that stole what little room existed.

Every minor adjustment from Din Djarin produced the faint scrape of metal against durasteel.

You clenched your jaw.

“Would you hold still?” you hissed under your breath, trying to shift your position for the tenth time and failing just as miserably as before.

The helmet tilted slightly toward you.

“Quiet,” he shot back immediately, voice low and edged with the same irritation while looking down.

Very much down.

Because while the two of you had been sprinting through corridors trying to shake the men chasing you, this tiny hiding place had appeared during a frantic scan of the hallway. Without pausing to debate the idea, Din had grabbed you by the arm and shoved you inside.

He followed a heartbeat later.

The security panel had slid shut with a quiet thunk.

Only then had the reality of the situation become clear.

The space was barely large enough for one adult standing upright. With both of you inside, it became an exercise in awkward geometry.

Din stood with his back pressed firmly against the sealed panel. One armored arm braced against the wall in front of him, creating a makeshift support so he wouldn’t lose his balance in the cramped quarters.

At least he was standing.

You, on the other hand…

You lifted your gaze slowly.

From the floor.

From where you were kneeling.

Directly between his legs.

“Oh, don’t you dare tell me to be quiet,” you muttered sharply, craning your neck to glare up at the visor. “You’re the one who got us into this mess in the first place.”

Technically speaking, you were right.

Months of working together had built enough trust that when Din proposed the job, you hadn’t questioned it much.

An easy contract, he had said.

Quick entry. Quick exit. Minimal guards.

Simple.

Every single part of that description had turned out to be spectacularly wrong.

The artifact storage facility had recently made local news - something neither of you had learned about until far too late. Apparently publicity had inspired the owners to double their security.

What should have been a short operation had turned into a crawling nightmare.

Air vents.

Abandoned wastewater tunnels.

Forgotten maintenance corridors that hadn’t seen maintenance in decades.

The two of you had spent hours creeping through the guts of the building just to reach the prize.

Still, the effort hadn’t been wasted.

Your hand instinctively brushed your pocket.

Inside rested the object you’d come for: a Kyber Resonance Shard, a fractured piece of crystal rumored to hum faintly with residual energy when exposed to certain frequencies. Collectors paid absurd amounts for relics tied even distantly to the old Jedi traditions.

You had managed to lift it cleanly from its display.

Unfortunately, the display had also triggered a silent alarm.

Minutes later the corridors behind you had filled with guards.

Not just a few.

Dozens.

The careful stealth of the mission had evaporated instantly. Instead of sneaking out quietly, you had been forced to fight your way through the first wave and run before reinforcements sealed the building entirely.

That was when the plan changed.

Getting out immediately had become impossible.

But hiding?

Hiding might buy time.

Eventually the guards would assume you had escaped the facility entirely. Once the search widened outside, slipping away would be far easier.

At least, that had been the theory.

Which was how you ended up here.

Wedged inside a maintenance cavity barely wider than a locker.

Kneeling awkwardly on the floor.

Directly between the legs of a fully armored Mandalorian bounty hunter who filled most of the remaining space.

You tilted your head again to glare up at the dark visor hovering above you.

“Yes,” you muttered under your breath, “this was definitely your brilliant plan.”

“Maybe you should’ve listened when I told you the alarm might trigger,” Din Djarin muttered sharply above you, the words low and tight through the helmet’s modulator.

You snorted quietly.

“Helpful warning,” you whispered back. “Shame it arrived after I had already pocketed the shard.”

You shifted slightly on your heels, trying for the third time to relieve the pressure building in your legs. The cramped position forced your weight awkwardly onto your calves, and the metal floor beneath you was doing nothing to improve the situation.

Your muscles protested.

“Next time a meteor storm smashes into the Razor Crest,” you added dryly, “I’ll be sure to warn you afterward too.”

Din’s right foot nudged lightly against your leg.

You couldn’t tell whether the movement was meant as a quiet command to shut up - or simply an attempt for him to adjust his own balance in the ridiculous configuration the two of you had been forced into.

“If we get out of here,” you continued under your breath, shifting your weight again, “remind me to avoid any future jobs that involve stealing.”

The response came immediately.

“That from the master thief?” he said. Even without seeing his face, you could hear the faint crooked humor in his tone.

Months of working together had trained your ears well. You had learned to read the small inflections beneath the helmet’s mechanical filter. The subtle changes that meant he was smirking, even if the visor hid it completely.

You had seen that smirk before though.

More than once.

Because you have seen his face many times now.

The first time had been an accident - an unexpected glimpse of his face during a moment neither of you had planned.

The second had been necessity, when he’d taken a nasty hit and removing the helmet had been the only way to patch him up properly.

The third…

Well.

That had happened in the narrow bunk aboard the Razor Crest, sometime after both of you decided that surviving too many dangerous jobs together had earned you a more… relaxed way of blowing off steam.

Originally, the partnership had been strictly professional.

Lately, things had become a little more complicated.

“I wouldn’t mind switching back to bounty work,” you murmured, glancing up toward the dark visor. “You know I’m better at luring targets out than you are.”

A faint pause followed.

Then he replied quietly, “A little too good at it.” The final word slipped out in the soft cadence of Mando’a. “Mesh’la.”

Thankfully the darkness inside the cramped storage compartment hid the warmth that crept across your face.

You had never asked him exactly what the word meant.

Something affectionate, you suspected.

Something he said with an ease that made it feel… oddly intimate.

Even filtered through the helmet, the sound carried a certain weight.

“Don’t tell me you’re jealous, Din,” you whispered, voice tilting playfully. “Is that why you picked this miserable job? So I wouldn’t be flirting with half the galaxy while we worked?”

Your hand lifted almost absentmindedly, sliding along the side of his leg. The motion was half reassuring, half teasing as your fingers traced lightly over the armored plating before settling there.

“Focus,” he said quietly. But the word lacked its usual bite.

“Not much focusing I can do down here,” you replied softly. “We’re stuck waiting. Let me keep my sarcasm - it helps pass the time.”

Outside the sealed panel, the facility remained silent for the moment. No footsteps. No voices.

Still, both of you kept your voices low.

Better safe than discovered.

“You could start thinking about buyers,” Din said after a moment. “Once word spreads that the artifact disappeared from a secure facility, the list of interested collectors will shrink fast.”

You shrugged lightly, the movement barely noticeable in the cramped space.

“Let that be my headache.” He knew you would handle it. You always did. “You,” you added, glancing up again, “just focus on choosing our next job with a little more care.” A faint smirk crept into your voice. “I don’t mind spending time alone in a room with you,” you murmured. “But this setup? Less appealing.”

Your gaze lifted.

The visor angled down toward you.

“Think so? I can’t say the view is terrible.” There it was again - that invisible grin you had come to recognize.

Your hand, still resting on his shin, slid a little higher along his thigh. Your fingers tightened briefly in a light squeeze.

“Careful,” you murmured. “You know I like pushing my luck.”

“Focus,” he repeated again, though the command sounded slightly rougher now. “We need to be ready to move the second an opening appears.”

His tone still carried its usual seriousness. But there was something else hiding beneath it. A quiet thread of tension.

“I can focus just fine,” you said softly. “I’m practically meditating down here. Feeling like a damn Jedi.”

You shifted again, trying to relieve the ache building in your legs.

As you moved, you rolled your neck slightly - 

 - and accidentally brushed your head against his crotch.

The reaction was immediate.

Din shifted abruptly, a quiet hum escaping him through the modulator as he instinctively pulled back where little to no space was left.

You blinked, then slowly looked up. A wicked grin spread across your face.

“Well now,” you murmured, lips parting slightly. “Don’t tell me…” Your voice dropped to a playful whisper. “Din Djarin,” you teased, “are you actually getting turned on by this?”

You didn’t wait for an answer.

Instead your hand moved higher along his thigh, slipping beneath the edge of the segmented armor until your fingers found the softer resistance of the flight suit beneath. The fabric was warm from his body heat, taut where it stretched across muscle. You let your palm settle there for a moment - just long enough to confirm what your instincts had already guessed.

And there it was.

A slow, unmistakable firmness growing beneath your touch.

Your mouth curved slightly.

Well. That answered that.

“Cyar’ika…” Din’s voice dropped into a low rumble, the word dragged through the helmet’s modulator like a warning trying very hard to sound stern.

Except the tone betrayed him.

Half caution. Half something else entirely.

“What?” you murmured softly, fingers tightening through the fabric in a deliberate squeeze that completely contradicted the innocence of your question. “Should I stop?”

His breath caught.

“This is not the place,” he said, words slightly uneven now, “and definitely not the time.”

A faint inhale followed, sharp enough that he nearly stumbled over the last part of the sentence.

“Seems to me we’ve got plenty of time to kill,” you whispered.

Your hand didn’t slow.

If anything, the motion became more deliberate - testing, exploring his length through the layers of fabric while your eyes stayed locked on the dark visor above you.

Whatever sharp retort had been forming died instantly when your curious squeeze shifted into a slow, teasing stroke.

Din’s helmet tipped back against the wall behind him with a muted klonk. The hand braced against the opposite surface tightened, his fingers curling slowly into a fist as if he needed the pressure to steady himself.

“You really shouldn’t…” he muttered.

But the growl beneath the words lacked conviction.

It sounded less like a warning directed at you and more like something he was trying to remind himself.

Meanwhile your hand had already found the seam of the flight suit.

You slipped beneath it.

The moment your fingers brushed bare skin, Din’s hips shifted instinctively against your touch. A quiet roll forward.

A reaction he clearly hadn’t intended.

“You keep watch,” you suggested lightly, your voice barely louder than a breath, “I’ll keep you entertained.”

Your fingers wrapped fully around his cock now.

The muffled sound that escaped the helmet in response sent a small thrill down your spine.

You had seen Din without the helmet before. You knew the expressions he tried so carefully to hide from the rest of the galaxy - the tightening of his jaw, the way his eyes darkened when you touched him just right.

But this?

This was different.

With the helmet still firmly in place, you couldn’t rely on facial cues at all.

Instead you found yourself reading the language of his body.

Every small shift of muscle.

Every subtle change in the way he held himself above you.

The signals were clearer than he probably realized.

And right now they were telling you that you were very much on the right track.

His length twitched faintly in your grasp.

Yes.

Definitely the right track.

“You’re being reckless,” Din whispered after a moment, his head tilting slightly as if he was still trying to listen for sounds in the hallway beyond the hidden compartment.

“This entire mission has been reckless,” you replied with a quiet smirk. “I’m just staying consistent.”

Your hand moved again.

With a practiced motion you eased him free from the remaining fabric, the flight suit sliding aside just enough to reveal his length completely.

Especially from your low position you couldn’t help the brief flicker of appreciation that crossed your mind as he stood towering above you.

Your legs had been aching moments ago from the cramped kneeling position.

Now the discomfort barely registered.

You shifted slightly, adjusting your posture so you were better aligned with his cock in front of your face. Your gaze traveled upward for a moment before settling again on the task at hand.

Almost unconsciously, you wet your lips.

Your hand gave him a few slow strokes, deliberate and unhurried.

“You should stop,” he hissed quietly.

You smiled faintly.

“I haven’t even started yet.”

Leaning forward, you pressed a soft, almost reverent kiss against the soft skin of his tip.

The thing was,  you had never been particularly patient. The teasing kisses you had started with didn’t stay gentle for long. As you closed your lips around his tip you could feel a tension coiling through Din’s entire body and you could hear the change in his breathing.

The quiet restraint he usually carried with such discipline began to slip. A low sound escaped him - muted by the helmet but unmistakable.

Above you, his free hand found your hair. Just threading through the strands in slow strokes that felt almost absentminded, as if he was grounding himself in the sensation. The movement sent a clear enough signal on its own.

You were doing exactly what he wanted, that he did not want you to stop at all.

Encouraged, you took him in deeper, the tight space forcing you to adjust carefully as your tongue circled his soft skin. Din’s hand moved from the side of your head to the back of it as you leaned in further, the grip tightening just slightly as instinct took over.

For a moment the two of you went completely still.

The closeness of the compartment left almost no room for movement anyway. The faint hum of machinery somewhere inside the walls vibrated through the metal around you while you both adjusted to the new position.

Din’s breath hitched again.

“Mesh’la…” The word slipped out rougher this time, dragged low through the modulator as he looked down at you. The dark visor tilted slightly, studying you in the dim light filtering through the vent.

“You look… perfect like this.”

The praise landed like a spark and a shiver ran through you.

Your hand slid higher along his thigh to steady yourself while the other braced against the wall behind you. Slowly you began to move your head, careful in the cramped space, finding a rhythm that worked despite the awkward positioning.

You slowly started to move your head, taking him in just an inch more before rolling back, catching a breath. Spit glistened on your lips and his soft skin, even in the shady dark light of this makeshift hideout, the air inside the compartment growing thick and humid as the seconds stretched.   

Your own pulse had begun to race now and heat coiled low in your stomach. You could feel the wetness between your legs growing although he did not even touch you fully.

It was almost frustrating to realize there would be no space for him to return the favor here - not with the two of you wedged together in a compartment barely big enough to breathe in. Not to speak of the lurking danger outside.

But you had no doubt, the moment you made it back to the Crest, he would remember exactly how to repay you. And different to now he would take his time with you.

For now though, the focus was entirely on him.

Din’s grip tightened slightly in your hair as you relaxed your jaw just a bit more, to take him up to the hilt. Before you could settle fully into your pace, he guided you forward with a firm pressure at the back of your head, pulling you closer with a sudden urgency that stole your breath for a moment.

“You take me so well,” he murmured. The words vibrated through the helmet’s modulator, sending another shiver down your spine. Your lungs protested briefly at the fullness, but your mind was far too focused on the effect you were having on him to care much about that.

Just before the pressure became too much he eased the hold, letting you pull back enough to breathe again.

You inhaled deeply before leaning in once more, eyes slipping closed as you focused on the rhythm he gave you. Your fingers curled into the fabric of his flight suit for balance as you let your tongue explore his full length, feeling every vein and twitch. He felt impossibly hard now and you longed for the moment back on the ship when he would bury himself in you, hips rolling in that infuriating slowness he always used to bring you closer and closer to the edge.

Above you, Din’s movements became less controlled now. The subtle tension running through his body and the twitching of his cock told you everything you needed to know.

“I’m almost there, cyar’ika,” he breathed quietly. Then his helmet tilted downward again. “Look at me.”

You obeyed immediately, lifting your gaze to the dark visor looming above you. Your jaw softened slightly, preparing yourself for the moment - 

 - but suddenly he froze.

Every muscle in his body went rigid.

A sound echoed faintly from the hallway beyond the hidden compartment.

Footsteps, distant enough but approaching.

The situation became instantly absurd.

You were kneeling in a cramped maintenance cavity, his cock buried deep in your throat, both of you frozen in complete silence while someone walked somewhere nearby beyond the sealed panel.

Din held himself perfectly still, his grip tightening in your hair in a silent command to stop. To wait.

You felt it.

You understood it.

You ignored it. Your tongue moved again in a teasing flick against his underside and his throb told you how he ached for the sweet release. A strangled hiss slipped through the modulator.

The footsteps grew slightly louder as they passed somewhere down the corridor.

Din’s fingers clenched in warning. Not yet pulling you away, but very clearly telling you to behave.

You didn’t.

Your hands slid around the backs of his thighs instead, gripping firmly just beneath the curve of his backside. Then you pulled him closer, deeper, stealing your own breath, all while keeping your gaze fixed on him.

That was all it took.

Din’s head fell back against the wall with a silent thud as the tension snapped.

The insulation of the compartment and the distant machinery thankfully swallowed most of the sound. Outside, the footsteps continued past without slowing.

Inside, you had no choice but to hold steady as the wave finally broke and he spilled into your mouth, his warm cum coating the back of your throat and dripping down.

True to his earlier command, you kept your eyes lifted to the visor above you as you swallowed around his cock, taking every drop of him.

His fingers dug sharply into your hair now, the pressure almost painful as he fought to stay quiet through the release that rolled through him.

The footsteps faded down the corridor.

Only once the silence returned did Din finally exhale.

The breath came out slow and shaky.

After a moment he carefully pulled his still hardened length away, the movement making his tip bump lightly against your lips as he straightened.

“You…” he muttered, voice still rough. “…are an absolute menace.”

You leaned back slightly, licking the corners of your mouth before flashing him a satisfied grin.

“Happy to be of service.” You gave him a small, mocking nod.

With practiced hands you helped Din straighten himself back into the flight suit, smoothing the fabric into place before giving the front of it a light, almost condescending pat.

“Good as new,” you murmured under your breath.

The grip he had held in your hair finally loosened. Instead of the sharp hold from moments ago, his fingers slid through the strands in slow strokes, brushing your scalp before drifting down along the side of your face, tilting your face upwards by the chin. The gesture carried none of the urgency from earlier - just quiet warmth.

“We’re going to have a conversation about your sense of risk assessment once we’re back on the ship,” he said after a moment. Even through the helmet you could hear the grin in his voice. “Can’t take you anywhere.”

“Speaking of taking me places,” you said, nodding toward the sealed panel behind him, “you think things have cooled down out there yet?”

“I certainly have,” he replied dryly. The helmet tilted slightly as he listened for a moment, the faint sounds of the facility humming through the walls around you. “Seems quiet enough. Might be our best window.”

He glanced down toward you.

“Can you get it open again?”

Your lockpicking kit was still tucked safely in your pocket. After all, the panel had sealed itself automatically once you had picked it the first time and Din had shoved you inside. Your part of the job hadn’t exactly ended when the door closed.

You pulled the tools free with a quiet clink.

“What exactly are you contributing to this mission again?” you asked with a crooked grin.

Din awkwardly stepped over you in the tight compartment so you could shift forward, bracing yourself on your knees while you reached the panel controls.

“Because as far as I remember,” you continued, sliding the picks into place, “I handled the theft, the lockpicking, and the tension relief.”

Behind you he shifted his weight against the opposite wall.

“I’m making sure no one stands between us and the ship so I can repay you,” he replied calmly.

The panel hissed softly as the locking mechanism disengaged beneath your tools.

He leaned closer.

“Now hurry up,” he added quietly, “before I make you.”

You didn’t need further encouragement. You scrambled to your feet quickly - only to wobble immediately as your legs protested the long minutes spent kneeling.

Pins and needles shot through your calves.

“Stars,” you muttered, shaking them out. “Did the Jedi deal with this kind of thing all the time?”

Din didn’t slow.

“Less talking,” he said simply. His hand closed around your wrist and pulled you forward down the corridor. “More moving.”

Waiting had been the right call.

The frantic security sweep from earlier had thinned considerably. Most of the guards had clearly moved their search elsewhere by now, likely assuming you had already slipped off the premises.

Still, the path back to the exit wasn’t completely empty.

Twice you had to flatten yourselves against shadowed corners as patrols passed nearby.

Twice Din handled the problem when stealth alone wasn’t enough.

Before long the familiar shape of the Razor Crest appeared waiting at the edge of the landing platform like an old friend.

You sprinted the final stretch. By the time the ramp lowered you were already breathing hard.

Din reached the cockpit first, vaulting into the pilot’s seat as the startup sequence flared to life across the control panels.

You stumbled up into the cockpit seconds later and dropped into the copilot chair beside him, chest still rising and falling as you tried to catch your breath.

But the grin on your face refused to fade.

From your pocket you produced the prize.

The Kyber Resonance Shard caught the cockpit lights as you tossed it lightly into the air and caught it again.

“Well,” you said, leaning back slightly as the engines hummed louder beneath your feet, “that was an experience.”

You flipped the shard once more.

Din said nothing. His gloved hands moved across the controls with steady precision, initiating the final departure sequence.

The ship lifted smoothly from the platform.

You glanced sideways at him.

“What do you think this thing will sell for?” you asked, turning the crystal between your fingers.

Still nothing.

A small flicker of unease crept into your thoughts. Had you pushed too far earlier?

You cleared your throat. “Maybe we should take more breaking-and-entering jobs,” you added casually.

You tossed the shard again - 

 - but this time Din’s hand shot out and caught it midair before you could.

The motion was so quick it left you blinking.

Without looking at you, he engaged the hyperdrive controls with his other hand. The Crest lurched gently as it entered hyperspace, the blue tunnel of stars stretching across the viewport.

Din turned the crystal over once in his hand. Then set it on the console. Only after that did he rise from the pilot’s seat. His broad silhouette loomed over you.

“Bunk,” he said.

Just one word.

No humor left in it.

The tone wasn’t angry.

But it was unmistakably an order.

And stars help you - you obeyed it eagerly.

You were out of the copilot seat in a heartbeat, heading down the narrow corridor toward the sleeping quarters.

Behind you, heavy footsteps followed.

You reached the bunk and climbed inside just as the familiar sound echoed through the small cabin - 

The quiet hiss of a helmet seal disengaging.

Your grin widened.

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you stretched out on the mattress and looked toward the doorway with open anticipation.

You had worked with Din long enough to know exactly how this was going to end.

He always believed in settling the score.

My Masterlist

Taglist:

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[eatommo]

All is Fair [d.d]

Summary: A heated argument lets emotions, and confessions come to the surface.

CW: din djarin/female reader, the helmet stays on, angst, misunderstandings, mutual pining, confessions of love, din leaves bruises on her, marking kink, rough sex, d/s dynamics, use of pet names, p in v, creampie, mentions of gambling/bets, mando'a, oral (m reciving) (I probably missed some sorry)

a/n: This is a little messy, I'm just falling so hard again and need to get some of my own pining out. enjoy :)

You swear you hear the creak of his gloves tightening around your arm, “I told you to stay inside the ship.”  His fingers are thick and robust as they dig into your flesh, properly leaving your skin purple.  Helmet sweeping side to side he scans the crowd for someone showing too much interest, “The imps have eyes everywhere, you're going to get us killed.”

“Right. Because you’re an average man walking around, definitely not  inside your own fucking casket.”  His grip gets impossibly tighter, and he stops in his tracks, halting your movement completely. The adrenaline in your body peaks as his blank, concealed, stare fixes on your face.

“You’re tiresome.  Did you know that?”  His voice is pure vitriol, you’ve never seen him so angry.  “I don’t care if I get killed but you can’t be bringing the kid out for a dessert run.” 

“It was his idea!”  Deep down you know he’s right, but being cooped up in the crest for weeks has made you all antsy, and the kid was very persuasive.  “We didn’t just get cookies.” You try and keep your tone even, emotions mounting in your throat.  “I got some bacta, and a new compressor for the carbonite chamber.” His posture is iron, shoulders, and head still as a rock and you trail off.   

“You could’ve told me to get those things.”  He turns away from you and pulls you back towards the ship.  There are several coos and cries from the pouch now snug to dins hip and covered by his skewed cape.  “You can’t let the baby tell you what to do.” 

He’s been nothing but kind to you, and although you hate him confronting you he would’ve gotten anything you asked for, he always has.  “You’re right, I’m sorry, but you don’t need to scold me like a child.”  

His hand loosens slightly as if he is becoming conscious of hurting you, as he practically shoves you forward with his body while you instinctually resist. “This isn’t the first time you haven’t listened to me.”  

You set your jaw, swallowing more bitter words, and scan the crowd with him, slightly turning your head every few steps to get a glimpse of people behind you, just like he taught you.  Miraculously, you make it to the hangar without another bitter word.  

Even as he pays the balance of the ship repairs his hand doesn’t leave its place on your arm, the man glancing between the two of you suspiciously.  Your cheeks heat in embarrassment, and you begin to feel like a scruffed loth cat.  “Do you have to drag me by my bones?!”  You twist your arm in an attempt to escape, but all it does is shoot lightning through your arm down to your wrist.  

He remains silent until he practically throws you onto the ramp of the ship.  To further your shame, you trip and fall to your knees scraping them both on the rough texture of the ramp.  With a huff and barely-kept tears, you storm up the ramp and drop the sack of supplies on a crate, heading straight to the fresher for a rinse in the shower, in a desperate effort to collect yourself. 

The ship takes off in no time with a lurch and the immediate hum of hyperspace envelops the crest.  Only then, do you feel safe enough to let out a choked frustrated sob.  The cry is relatively quick, and the water does wonders for the tight knot of the new bruise on your arm, but not quite the cleansing of your heart you were praying for. 

You rinse the soap from your hair rigorously and not kindly, in an attempt to shake the need for these bruises to linger until they faded without the use of bacta.  He would think you were being ridiculous, he might even taunt you about being young and dumb if he found out how you felt about him.  You’d be lying if these weren’t tears of heartbreak, he embarrassed and chastised you in front of crowds of people and practically dragged you halfway across town.

Yet, you found yourself wanting to seek him for comfort.  Longing for the long nights of telling him about your childhood on bespin, and the comfort of his laugh as he gave you a simple story about the fighting corps that had your eyes full of admiration and bewilderment.  He had been kind and soft and protective.  Today was the first time you remember him being so assertive with you, with enemies and bounties yes, but never to you.  

Maybe it was time for you to take off.  The thought felt like a slap on the cheek, and you bite your lips as you swipe across the ripped flesh of your knee.  It is not a terrible scrape, but the skin is tender and bruised around the minor cuts.  You wanted him to apologize, and you wanted him to see you bleed, you knew he’d feel terrible, he stepped on your foot last week and apologized three times.

Stepping out of the shower you realize that in your rush to the refresher, you didn’t grab a pair of clothes.  Swearing to yourself, you take a look at your dirty clothes from earlier.  They're caked in sand, and rather than put them on you’ll wrap yourself in -shit- his towel.  Sending a prayer to the maker, whoever she may be, you open the doors and set your gaze on the floor towards your bunk and set course confidently.  Unaware he is watching intently from the container you left your sack on until his boots are in your vision.  

He hears the squeak die in your throat and watches your heart race as he scans your near-naked frame with his visor.  His breath catches in his throat at the sight, his hand still radiating warmth from holding your skin even with his gloved hand.  He wanted you, and his body responded to the small friction of your body against his front like he was a teenager.  Then he starts picking up on the scrape on your knees, and the swell of a bruise on your left arm.  As your heart leaps into your throat, he drops to the floor on his knees, he hurt you.  In his scared frustration, he scolded and towed you around like a misbehaving massiff.  

This is where his career failed him, he could de-escalate a bar fight, but he had heard apologizing to a woman was not easy, especially when he so desperately needed you to forgive him.  Not to mention the beautiful distraction of his cock twitching in his pants as he settles on your face, trying not to think about your skin smelling like him.  “Focus.”  Fuck. Did he just say that out loud? 

“What did you just say?”  You take a larger step forward, your leg peaks out of the wrap of the towel, wrath keeping you from caring.  “I always admired your bravery, and now I’m wondering where all the audacity came from.”

He stammers, modulator picking up his sharp confused gasp, “No. I mean-”.

You don’t give him the chance to finish.  “I want to go home.”  The words dry your tongue to ash.  But his posture goes rigid again, and for the first time since you met, you’re afraid of him.  

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” As a wave crashes over him, he resets.  His shoulders slumped over, and the helmet hanging as if he is adverting his eyes.  You watch with bated breath as he reaches up in a familiar movement, flicking through types of vision processors in his helmet, and your blood turns cold.  

With a fluid movement, he guides your hand to his shoulder with his free hand and reaches for your calf with the other, pulling your leg free to examine the scuff on your knee.  

You misread him and in your panic pull away, falling over your own feet his grip catches you as your towel parts to reveal almost your entire body to him.  He’s standing slightly, having to abandon his seat in his efforts to catch you.  The helmet snaps to your eyes, and then to the wall beside you as he stands you up.  

You take a step back while adjusting your towel and holding it closer to you.  “I’m mad that you treated me like a child.” He keeps his eyes trained on the wall, “I shouldn’t-” 

“I panicked, I was worried.”  He is defensively talking over you, but also afraid to tell you of his feelings for you so his voice is low. 

“Be carted through the city on a leash like some misbehaving whore.”  The words are pouring out of you as if coating your tongue with honey as they crack across his bleeding heart, far too much happening too fast as he scrambles to catch up.  

“I want to go home.”  You say it again, but this time it's less convincing as he comes to rest on his knees in front of you.  

“I’m sorry.”  He creeps pathetically closer to you, resting back onto his feet and leaning the forehead of his helm against your stomach seeking comfort that's more intimate than you’ve ever offered.  “I’m not good at these things.”  He shifts again, this time looking toward your face until just the chin of the visor is digging into the skin of your abdomen, “I’ve never had the chance to look after something I’ve cared about so much.”  His voice although clear is quiet, shy even, “I was so scared I didn’t even think until I saw you set the bacta on the crate.” 

You swallow the lump in your throat, tears slipping down your face wordless as you watch him grovel, you must be dreaming. 

“Ni ceta.”  His heart aches in time with the throbbing pain of his knees on the floor, and for the first time since pridefully placing his helm on his head, he wishes he could abandon it at your feet.

Everything he does is intense, he is fiercely protective, he is lethal, and you might even describe him as passionate when it comes to his creed.  The child, who you assume is somewhere sleeping, was possibly the most fiercely protected baby in the galaxy.  Having come to know him over the last few months, you wondered how he ever survived on his own, he cherished the companionship the two of you have brought and he always seems to welcome your antics, often at his expense.  Like a light in a dim alley, the conclusion flickers in your brain, it's the only thing that makes sense. 

“I’m sorry I brought him into danger.”  You clear your throat, unable to look away from the dim reflection of yourself in his visor.  “I’m just feeling a little like a prisoner.” 

He says that unfamiliar phrase again, “Ni ceta, mesh’la.” [I kneel, gorgeous] In what you assume is Mando’a, “I will do better.” Your hands twitch at your side, as you fight the urge to caress his head. 

“Okay.”  You give a reserved nod, the ice in your heart melted and you feel as vulnerable as ever.  “Is the kid asleep?”

 Mando gives a soft hum, “He ate a few cookies and then promptly collapsed in his pram in the cockpit.”  You realize his voice is hoarse but he clears it, “Can I give you some bacta, and make you some caf? I know you won't forgive me right away.” He trails off, as the glint of his helm holds your stare. 

“I’m not upset with you anymore, you don’t need to get anything for me, I can still walk just fine.”  A small giggle erupts from your chest, surprising the two of you.  There he is. 

He stands but doesn’t do anything but lean back slightly, “I want to.  I feel terrible.”  You take a step back as he stands, he speaks in a hushed tone, “I’d carry you around if that’s what you’d wanted.” 

There’s a glitch in your brain he doesn’t miss, and it's hard to ignore the small sound that you make, suddenly he’s thankful for the privacy of the helmet and the loose-fitting fabric of his flight suit.  “Is it what you want?” This is an interaction he is slightly more comfortable with, albeit a little rusty.

You clear your throat and shake your head as if the intrusive thoughts will fade with the harsh movement.  “Yes and no.”  You settle on a bit of honesty while also playing coy.  “Who doesn’t want to be carried around by a big strong mysterious man?  It’s every girl's dream.” 

“Maybe I should add that to the list of services I provide.”  He is leaning up against the walls of your bunk, subconsciously blocking you from abandoning the conversation and seeking the warmth and privacy in your bunk.

“We probably would make a killing.  But I wouldn’t want you to…” You trail off, not initially liking what the taunting was morphing into, but what the hell? “To carry anyone but me if I am honest.”

“I thought you said you didn’t want me to?”  He’s tasting the sweetness of your confession on his tongue, processing it while trying to keep the tone light.  

“I want you to want to do those things outside of guilt.” The conversation is far past smooth, nothing like the holodramas you’ve imagined the two of you a part of.  “I want you to like spending time with me.”

“I do feel guilty, but I would do these things for you regardless, and I do like spending time with you.  We both do, or I wouldn’t fight so hard to keep you here.”   There’s an air of caution in his statement, he’s scared of rushing headfirst into his adoration of you and scaring you, even if his face is protected in his bashful admission. 

“You do?”  You squint an eye at him as if scanning him through your own tech-clad helmet.  “Are we on the same page?” You chew on your lip, analyzing his cool, relaxed posture before settling on his pitch-black visor again, in the flicker of your heart you know he’s meeting your stare.  “I like you.”

His chest rises sharply with an inhale as if he’s been injured and you quickly try and find a way to backpedal out of this conversation.  “Well, maybe we aren’t. I was going to say I’m in love with you.”  

If you didn’t know the child was asleep, you would’ve thought he was pushing you toward his dad.  There was a tug at your heart and you rush to embrace him, met with the cool metal against your bare skin.  Your instinct calls for you to kiss him, and you want to terribly, but you’re unsure of what his customs allow.

You let your hands search for the gaps in his armor, looking for warmth and settling right below the gusset of armor on his back and squeeze him so impossibly tight he groans contently.  “This feels so weird, I’m sorry I don’t know what to do.”  Your cheeks heat, and he chuckles.

“What are you trying to do?” He finally seems to have settled into the space in front of you, a pliant but also stiff bundle of warmth juxtaposed by the cool faces of his beskar plates. “I can take the armor off if you’re trying to get comfortable.” 

“I know how to do it, I just don’t know if I’m allowed to.  I want to kiss you Mando…”  The bashfulness in the way you bury your face into the crook of his arm, makes his heart skip to an unfamiliar beat in his chest.  

“I can take everything but the helmet off, I would eventually.  I’m not ready for that.”  Now he’s the insecure one, how could you want to be with him without seeing him? “I know it’s not ideal, I’m sorry.”

You sense the insecurity right away, and rather than letting it fester in his always-thinking brain, you do your best to soothe his worries with a caress and a change of subject.  “Everything else you say?” Lifting your brow, you hook the rim of his chest plate with your fingernail, separating it slightly from its place. “I can wait for the helmet,” you look up through your eyelashes,  “ I want to feel you.”

Lacing your fingers through his, you stroke the palm of his hand silently asking for permission to remove them.  He nods slowly, and you slide beneath the fabric slowly revealing the tanned, callused skin.  Human skin.

You remove the other glove, letting your fingers soak in his radiating warmth.  Drawing long slow circles on his palms, you search for his approval but his head is fixed on your hands in his.  He is rigid and his posture is stiff, as if afraid if he moves you’ll stop.  

Every nerve in his body is alight, he’s practically vibrating as you run your fingers along his skin, your hands are cold and feel wonderfully soft.  It takes everything not to whine when you go to take his vambraces off and the comfort of your touch is ripped away from him.  

“I don’t know how to do this.”  You admit, well aware of the whistling birds that are more than dangerous and you're afraid to set them off.  He laughs nervously, and you’re leaning so close to his face that you can almost hear the air without the modulator. 

“It’s safe.”  He reaches over and shows you how to remove the armor.  As you lift it away you motion for him to remove the other one while you get to work on his chest plate.  The heavy metal plate joins the rest of it in a compartment to his left, and you lay your hands flat on the broad plain of his chest.

He moves, remembering his strength, and tilts your elbow until your hand is resting on the zipper hidden beneath the collar of his cape.  Working in tandem, he removes his cuirass as you unzip his flight suit.  

Your vision rakes over the ripple of his muscles, a few bruises and scars mark his skin, and you without thinking lean in and leave an open-mouthed kiss over a yellow bruise on his left peck.  This time you are close enough to hear the whine that escapes from beneath the helmet in time with his posture going slack with a flood of goosebumps on his skin. 

The noises go straight to your core, the idea of this hard exterior broken by a hint of your mouth on his chest is enough of an invite to step closer.  Slotting between his feet, you press your mouth to the center of his sternum, chasing it as he flinches away from your cold hands brushing against his lower stomach before curling into the fabric to pull him tight against you.  

He steps back, maneuvering around the crate and leaning against the wall behind it so he can slot his thigh between your legs gently inviting you to grind against the cool metal plate, only separated by an ever-falling towel his brain scrambles, only thinking about how your mouth feels hot against his skin and wondering what you taste like.  

You lean harder into him, feeling the weight of his cock dig into your stomach and trying to focus on nibbling on the tight muscle of his shoulder as the fabric of his flight suit falls off his shoulders.  You hear a loud clang as he throws his head back, likely breaking something behind him, when you dig in your teeth and suck hard on one of his collarbones.  You suckle and kitten lick at the same time, the groans and shivers only provoke you further, only pulling away when your lips start to feel swollen.

He’s thankful again for the privacy of his helmet, as frustrating as it is to not return the favor he can’t seem to regain control of his limbs and jaw, everything going slack as he fights the urge to rut against your body like a horny teenager. 

The weight of what's left of his armor is dragging the thick fabric to the floor, revealing the rich sculpted muscles of his abdomen and the tortuously scandalous dip of his hip bones.  The dull ache of your jaw is ignored as you trail down his warm skin, laving across his nipples as you take your time kissing him, tasting the salt of his skin. 

You blow across the trail of kisses, knowing that the air will feel cold and feeling a little dauntless.  A shiver rolls through him, bringing his hips forward as if begging for your attention.  His cock struggles against the fabric of his underclothes, its weight heavy and practically weeping a delirious amount of precum.  It's the hitch of your breath at the realization of his size that breaks his stupor.  Digging one hand into your hair and shoving the final confines of his clothing to the ground, he takes his cock into his hand, using the precome to tease the head just above your waiting mouth as you admire.

You finally meet the visor with your eyes again, as he stokes himself tauntingly above you, he’s thicker than any you’d seen before, his fingers not even connecting around its circumference, and the flesh is a tad darker than his skin, with slightly darker veins throbbing for your waiting mouth. 

He swears under his breath, as you let your tongue rest on the underside of his thick tip.  He pulls you onto him, barely pressing into your mouth but the edge of his heady moan is irresistible, you need to hear it endlessly until he begged you to stop.  You take more of him in on the accompanying thrusts, swallowing around him as tears brim your eyes.  There's a sense of desperation as he loses his composure his movements less consistent and his body relaxes into the skilled warmth of your mouth. 

By the time you work your way to the base, his sparse curls tickle your nose as you hum around him in contentment, and drool runs down your chin onto your chest.  You realize in embarrassment that you were holding onto the towel, placing it under your injured knee for padding, and you settle more comfortably onto the ground, allowing you to start caressing his balls with your hand. 

His gasp is sinful, depraved even as his hand furls tighter in your hair, teasing the line between pain and pleasure.  You moan around him as he twitches against the back of your throat.  Gently you shake your head side to side, as you get the last inch or so into your mouth.  You hear another loud smash as his head hits the wall a second time, you pause waiting to hear the hiss of a cracked pipe.  Instead, he tugs your head back and forth, hand griping tight but the pace is teasingly gentle.  

Humming in approval, you look up, watching his body fight for breath between curses and moans.  Maker was he handsome, his skin was riddled with various scars and bruises but remained soft and clean, the muscles of his body taut with pleasure and even quivering in his legs as he fought the urge to cum down your throat.

Surprising himself, he guides your head all the way off him, letting himself get a good look at your swollen wet mouth and your naked body as he pulls you back to your feet.  “You’re so beautiful,” he is practically whispering, and you feel as though he’s caressing you with his voice, “Can I,” you step closer to him, pressing more open mouth kisses to the tender base of his throat, “Kriff, Can I fuck you?”  

You hum against his skin in affirmation before taking his collarbone between your teeth and sucking a fresh mark into it.  His arms wrap around your frame as he effortlessly lifts you and you wrap around him, pressing a few gentler, less hungry kisses to the helm where you envision his hairline.  He manages to open the door to his bunk and lays you down.  

He finally gets your entire body laid open for him, letting his hands caress your sides, committing the shapes of your body to memory as he runs over the planes of your body, stopping for a moment to drag his rough fingers over your nipples.  You arch into his touch, feeling as though he is dragging a heated blade of pleasure across your skin.  Coaxing your thighs open with the backs of his hands, he emits a low groan as he swipes two fingers through your folds.  “You’re so fucking pretty.” 

You open your mouth to respond, but he rolls your clit between two fingers effectively shutting you up.  He nudges against your entrance and then slowly stretches you open while continuously toying with your clit, scissoring two fingers while paying close attention to any shifts in your breath and small noises.  

He pushes his fingers up, and your legs try to close as the new pleasure makes your vision fuzzy.  “Keep those legs open for me c’yare.” He demands, massaging that spot a few more times, and you feel as though you’re gasping for each breath in time with the movements of his fingers.  

Just when you’re about to start begging for him to let you cum, he stops completely, using the moisture on his hands to slick up his length haphazardly before lining up with your fluttering pussy. 

Again, his gentleness stuns you, slowly rocking his hips as he edges deeper into your core.  The stretch is shocking at first, but he gives you plenty of time to adjust, slowly circling your clit with his thumb.  He hooks your legs around his waist, grinding deeper and deeper until his face is hovering inches from yours.  

He presses his forehead to yours in a keldabe kiss.  Each slap of his hips is punctuated by your breathy gasp that fogs up his visor. He’s finally close enough to your skin to smell his soap lingering, and it awakens a part of his brain he didn’t know existed. 

“You’re mine, mesh’la.” He rubs your clit just a fraction harder, “I wanna hear you say it.” 

You struggle to get enough air in your lungs to speak, but the need to please him is greater than your need for breath, “Yours Mando,” His body is fire compared to the cool air of the crest, causing your skin to flush hotly, and a sheen of sweat coating your body, “Anything you want.” 

His grunting is entirely animalistic, the ship could fall out of hyperspace or get attacked by purgills and he would be none the wiser.  The tight grip of your pussy drives him further into insanity, he feels his orgasm creep up his spine and even then he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop. “Yeah? I’m gonna cum inside you baby.”

He sits up slightly, changing the angle of his hips to shove impossibly deeper into you as you tighten around him, your own orgasm brimming.  With each faltering snap of his hips, your whine grows louder until you’re pleading with him to cum inside of you, feeling like it’s the only possible way to bring you relief.

He cradles your head in his arm, needing to feel your moans ripple across his skin as he feels you squeeze him like a vice, your legs shaking and practically bucking him off you with the force of your orgasm.  It’s only a few more thrusts before he’s spilling himself inside you and grinding deep until his nerves are on shot and his body is ready to collapse from the stimulation. 

A few quick moments pass, and while collecting your wits, you search his visor again, longing for just a bit of eye contact, but unable to find anything, you give him a soft smile. “I owe Peli 50 credits.” 

Almost unbelievably bubbly, he resigns “I owe her 150, I think we got caught in a sure bet.”  You feign surprise. “I can’t believe she knew before we did.” 

“Sounds like she was a double agent. Maybe she just thinks she’ll get another baby out of it.” Your cheeks heat before you can finish speaking and he’s blushing profusely beneath the helmet. 

He hums in contentment, letting some of his body weight rest on you as he slips free, before shifting to lay your head on his chest.  “I love you.”  His hand rubs circles at the base of your neck, but he can’t help but stare at the dark bruises on your arm. “I’ll get up and get you some bacta in a moment.” 

“I love you too.”  You listen intently to the steady falling rhythm of his heart, as you come down from your highs together.  “I think I’d rather have them.”  You gently run your fingers over the deep purple marks you’ve sucked into his skin, smiling sadistically at his sharp intake of breath. “It’s only fair.” 

[burntheedges]

Meet the Teacher

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.”

You grinned. “Me too, Din.”

“Good.”

…

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this fluff. lol

[prudejudee]

not asking this anonymously since im a freak and Proud

something something colt seavers who likes to record you guys going at it…do you see the Vision…

The first time Colt sets up his phone on the nightstand, propped against a lamp, the camera’s "recording" display on the screen enters your vision and he grins down at you, already hard. "I want to watch this later.." he murmurs, one hand sliding your thighs apart, the other gripping his cock, glistening at the tip. "I want to see how your pussy takes me."

He fucks you slow at first, making sure the angle catches every inch of his thick shaft disappearing inside you, his balls slapping your wet skin. "Look at the cam," he orders, voice husky, and when you do, he picks up the pace, driving into you with a rhythm that makes the bed frame squeak. He groans, "That's it—let the camera see you come."

Later, he rewinds the footage, phone balanced on his stomach while you sprawl across his chest, both of you sweaty. He fast-forwards to the part where he had you on your hands and knees, his hand fisted in your hair, your ass bouncing against his hips. "Right there," he says, pausing on a frame where your mouth is open, eyes rolled back. "That's my favorite."

He shifts you so he can slide inside you again, the phone still playing the audio of your moans. "I'm gonna fuck you while we watch ourselves fuck." he whispers, and the screen shows his cock pushing into you from behind while his real cock does the same, recording a new loop of your shared pleasure.

[doctor-ryland-grace]

Multiples: A Character Study in Pleasure.

( Drabble Set. )

──➤ ♡ WARNINGS: RATED M. NSFW, MDNI, 18+. Sex, dirty talk, swearing. ──➤ ♡ Prompt: Telling them their cock is big. ──➤ ♡ Characters Included: Ryland Grace, Holland March, Lars Lindstrom, Colt Seavers, Driver. ──➤ ♡ Total Words: 3.4K.

You were tracing the line of Ryland’s jaw slowly, your thumb brushing against the stubble there as you leaned down from your position in his lap, the bouncing motion you had set becoming nothing more than a delicious grind as the scientist tossed his head back aimlessly against the pillow with a groan. The rhythmic motion between you faltered slightly as you whispered to him, playing your lips against his, “F-For a man who spends all his time looking into microscopes and studying molecular compositions y-you’re surprisingly… well endowed in other departments.”

God, you were dirty talking just in the right way to get Ryland to turn into a babbling mess, his eyes squeezing shut behind the almost foggy nature of his skewed glasses. You could feel him tense beneath you as you clamped your walls intentionally, grinding up before slowly coming down and resting in a seated position with a swivel of your hips. Heat rushed to his cheeks before you pulled back to see the faint blush spreading across his sharp face. Ryland’s Adam’s apple bobbed deliciously as he tried to lubricate his throat enough for a response, as if that was the only sensory issue here. 

“W-well, st-statistically speaking,” You smirked at the sound of his voice being a little higher than usual as you set another deliberately sensuous pace. “H-Human male anatomy follows a no-normal distribution curve---!” Ryland nearly yelped at the sensation of your walls tightening around his hard cock, pressing into places he wanted to memorize. You can’t help but smile breathlessly as his hands come to rest on your hips, helping ease you into a more leveraged position, feeling the tangled entrapment of your thigh muscles spasming. 

“T-technically, someone has-has to occupy the upper percentiles… It’s just…” He drew a deep breath in and fluttered his eyelids open to make eye contact with you when you swirled your hips once again, the friction almost too much for him to handle. “Probability, really.”

Ryland managed to growl out those last two words as his hands loosened enough to allow you to continue bouncing as you scientific compliment came rushing in and out of his brain, trying to cope as it mixed tediously with the pleasure running through his entire body. “B-but um…” He added, fingers digging into the fleshy skin that rested right above your hipbones and helped lead you into a better rhythm.

“T-thank you. I-I think?” He was not thinking, in fact. How was he supposed to when you were… Well, doing what you were doing?!

A gasp escaped your mouth as Ryland’s hips came to meet yours half way, the head of his cock pressing against the spongy part inside of you that made stars blister momentarily behind your eyes as you tossed your head back with a moan that sounded suspiciously like his name. “J-Just making an observation.”

“Yo-you’d be a great scientist.” The blonde man let out a shaky laugh, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as you captivated his gaze, hands daring enough now to come up along the scape of your curves to grasp your chest. “I-I suppose it’s one variable th-that’s working in my favor.”

“I think i-it’s working more in mine.” Your voice was nothing more than a low purr.  

Something about that caused Ryland to snap, and within moments, your back was against the bed and he was perfectly slotted between your open legs, your feet tucking into the fleshier nature of his lower back. He guided himself, eyes locked between your bodies and watching the stretch his cock gave you. The analytical scientist gave way to the man who was clearly pleased by your compliment even if he didn't know quite how to handle it. You lifted your hips up slightly to give way to a different angle, the slow drag of Ryland’s cock against your inner walls making you both gasp as he sunk back into you to the hilt. 

The room was nothing more than a hazy mess with cigarette smoke clinging to the open air and the dim glow of a single lamp on your lover’s bedside table. He was above you, his usually clumsy grace replaced by a focused intensity as he shoved your leg up, relishing in the sensation of your other wrapped lazily around his narrow waist. Holland’s hand grasped at the muscle of your calf, pulling you infinitely closer with each thrust of his hips, his breathing coming in ragged pants as his pink lips planted a heated, saliva stricken kiss to your leg.

You were completely lost in the sensation of his cock relentlessly pounding into you until you felt him shift, the mattress rippling as a new angle was introduced, the head of his shaft now hitting a spot that made you thrash your head back. 

“Fuck, Holland!” You moaned, one of your hands coming to grasp at his wrist, fingernails digging slightly into the skin there. He hissed into the moan that left his smirked mouth. “R-right there.”

“You like that, baby?” He responded with a guttural sound, picking up the pace and driving into you with what felt like a renewed purpose. You were getting close, your entire body was shouting at you. The tension in your stomach, your leg tensing around his waist and urging him even closer, your walls tightening around him to the point where Holland had the feeling you were going to milk him for all he was worth. More than okay in his book. “O-Oh, you r-really like that.”

“G-God, you’re so deep.” You squeezed your eyes shut and chomped onto your bottom lip, but that was pointless as another groan tore through the air. Irrationality was winning, as it so often did in the throes of pleasure. “You’re so fucking big, Holland.”

The blonde above you seemed to catch for a moment at that, a slower reluctance being placed into his thrusts as his breath caught in the hollow of his throat in a sickeningly sensual way for your eyes to feast on. You can feel his cock twitch inside if you, he must have been replaying your words again and again as a stuttery laugh escaped his lips, his upper half careening down so he could place a messy kiss to your mouth. 

“Jesus,” He murmured against your lips, tongue pressing against yours for a moment. “Y-You can’t just say…. Shit like that when I’m trying to concentrate.”

Holland let your leg go, instinct taking over and within moments, it joined your other around his slim hips, his forearms coming to trap you to the bed as his cock grinded into you. You moaned, “W-why not…? It’s true.”

His rhythm faltered the second you tightened around him intentionally, bringing your hips up to meet his before Holland found the willpower in himself to proceed. Deeper, harder this time. He needed you to cum on his cock. “B-because it makes me want to…” He trailed off, his words dissolving into nothingness as you clenched around him again. 

“To what?” You teased despite your tone being incredibly breathless. 

“T…To fuck you until you can’t walk straight.” Holland forced himself to finish a coherent statement, dark, pupil blow eyes meeting yours in a heated frenzy. “Make you feel every,” He deliberately grinded his cock as hard as he could inside of you, “Inch.” He did it again, the compliment clearly going to his head and there was now a set pace as Holland was determined to prove your words right, over and over again.

Lars was always so careful with you, as if you were something too precious for this world that might break if he wasn’t paying enough attention. And as he shifted his hips, pressing into your warmth, earning himself a soft gasp from your lips, nothing screamed as aggressive or overdone. It was just you and your boyfriend, the evening light filtering through the curtains of his bedroom to cast warm glows to juxtapose against the Winter air outside as his cock stretched you in an almost overwhelmingly absurd way.

Your inner walls fluttered, spasming around his girth as he settled a bit more between your legs, letting them case around his larger body and easing his chest against yours as the dark blonde let a whimper leave his parted lips.

“L-Lars.” You whispered, your hand coming up to cup the side of his face, his eyes squeezed shut in focus as he himself was in an adjustment period. Common for him, you let Lars work it out the way he needed as you traced your thumb along his cheekbone. He couldn’t handle those dual sensations and a moment later, his head collapsed into the crevice of your neck as he gave an exploratory shuffle of his hips a few centimeters out before plunging back into you. 

“T-That feels really good.” You moaned softly into his ear causing a shiver to blister down his spine. 

“I like… I like when you ma-make those sounds…” He admitted, his voice strained and barely a notch above rationality. “It’s… It’s really nice…”

A smile tugs onto your face slowly as you tuck your fingers into his thick hair, seeking to motivate and calm him down from the prospect of overstimulation. “I like making those sounds for you…”

Lars’s cock twitched at that, the motion so minute but you could feel it inside of you as you shifted just a bit beneath him, readjusting on the pillow so you could look up at him properly when he pulled his head back. “A-And I like the way you feel around me…” His blue eyes drifted along your expression before they locked onto your lips as a sole point of concentration. “It’s… Tight but in a good way… A really… Good way…”

Your boyfriend's words made you clench around his heavy cock, causing him to gasp out, his eyes widening at the new sensation. “Oh-oh, that’s… That’s something…”

You nod in agreement as a blush overcomes your entire being, urging him down so you could place a gentle kiss to his lips. He had been asking silently by staring at your mouth, a whisperless thanks being given as his moustache tickled you as you muttered, “Y-you’re bigger than I expected.” There was that breathless laugh of yours that Lars thought was so cute. “Y-You feel so good in me.”

And for a moment, the man above you didn't respond. There was no motion from him until you felt the sting of a very deliberate drag of his cock against your walls that made you tremble. He pulled back from your neck, your skin immediately missing the heated sensation of his breath against it, Lars’s brows furrowed in minor confusion. 

“R-really?” He asked, and there’s something so genuinely surprised in his tone that it made your heart ache a little as you brushed your fingers through his hair as your words settled into the air and into his mind. Something shifted in Lars’s expression. The shock of your compliment slowly melted into something warmer, more confident. A shy smile tugged at the corner of his plush lips, his mustache lifting with it.

"I-I’ve never really… thought about it like… that…” Lars trailed off, his cheeks flushing a deep red against his pale skin, only minorly disrupted by his facial stubble as he inched out of you before sinking back in as far as he could reach.

Your back arched off the bed slightly, pressing your taut chest against his as you let a low moan out. “Is… Is this okay?” Lars asked after a few moments, repeating his thrusting motion that sprinkled the best sensation along your core. “I do-don’t want to hurt you…” His voice was straining to keep itself contained and not delve too far into the pleasure. Yet. He would once he knew you were good to go. 

You nodded wordlessly, your mouth slightly agape as you sucked a breath in as Lars shuffled his hips against yours. “Y-You’re perfect, Lars.”

The cheap mattress of Colt’s trailer bed dipped beneath your knees, the worn sheets cool and contrasted against your palms, stark compared to the heat of the desert outside. Being on all fours was common now, it’s what the blonde stuntman liked as you arched your back to display the fleshy bounce of your ass for his hungry eyes.

His cock was so hard it felt like one little bit of attention made to it was going to make him cum as he positioned himself at your entrance, a small hiss leaving his mouth as he gripped his needy hard-on with one calloused hand, the other grasping with a possessive strength at your hip to get you in the most optimal angle. You were surely going to have bruises there in the morning, but it was all worth it. “Ready?” Colt asked, his voice low and rough, incredibly different from the charming demeanor he showed the film crew when performing stunts. 

You could only nod, your breath catching in your throat aggressively as he pushed in, painfully slow. The head of his cock disappeared as you were given time to adjust to the stretch. Even after all this time, the initial penetration was enough to make you go crazy, your head dipping as you urged your body not to shake prematurely as your toes curled. Colt watched his cock bury itself so deep inside of you that he couldn’t seem to focus on anything other than that point of primal contact.

“Fuuuuckkkk.” You gasped as air finally met your lungs again, his cock filling you up completely, his taut hips pressing against your ass and conforming against him like a puzzle piece. “Y-you're so big.”

“What was that?” His hands tightened on your hips, and you could hear the smirk in his voice. 

“Your cock.” You clarified with a huff, pushing back against him and causing the large man to stumble a bit before he regained composure. “It f-feels even bigger in this position. Like I-I’m being split in half.”

What a visual. Colt responded with a low chuckle as he began to move. It was slow at first, too slow for your liking as you grasped at the sheets with a tiny moan before it increased into a set rhythm. Enough to get you both going for now, but not enough to cause anything to be over too soon. If there was one thing Colt was good at, it was teetering on that very line.

“Yeah?” He grunted, a hand coming down to grasp at your ass and urge you to grind into him as the other wrapped delicately around your neck to keep you arched instead of letting your body falter. “Tell me more, baby.”

“So thick.” You moaned hoarsely as Colt picked up pace, jutting his cock into you as best he could, the sound of skin slapping skin seeping into the air of the small trailer, the controlled movements he was known for giving way to something far more urgent. The bed groaned loud under your combined weights as Colt drove into you, your body reacting as best it could as you met him thrust for thrust, pushing back to take him deeper as his long fingers exploded against your neck and held you. You needed every inch of him, and he had to know.

“I-I’m going to cum a-all over y-your big cock, Colt. Fuc… Fuck… don’t stop.”

Colt's rhythm faltered for a moment as he processed your words. "Fuck," he muttered, his voice strained. "You say things like that and I'm not going to last."

"Don't last then," you challenged, looking back at him over your shoulder. "Just fill me up and show me what a stuntman can really do."

Lazy mornings seemed rare with your lover. Even more so when he came home at the early hours of the morning, unexplained but always willing to tug himself into your bed with the favor of stress release. And this early Tuesday morning was no different, the predawn light filtering through the small blinds of your apartment, casting faint, gray stripes across the rumble sheets that were close to being discarded.

The air was cool on your exposed skin, raising goosebumps and hardening your nipples only to be soothed by the solid wall of heat pressed against your back. Driver was behind you, his chest a firm plane against your shoulder blades, one arm curled possessively around your waist and keeping you against him. His other hand was holding onto the base of his cock, teasing your entrance, urging you to prop your leg up so he could enter.

Not like it was even a question as you did just that, sleep still tugging on your movements as the blonde pushed into you with an inch by inch stroke that made a shudder explode down your spine, felt in Driver’s sternum as he pressed his chest more ardently to your back, lips barely ghosting against the shell of your ear as a silent moan cased there. Driver’s movements were always economical and precise, somewhat tearing more into the idea of performing a function rather than fucking but that’s just how it was.

There was an intensity to him that both thrilled you and unnerved some part of your rationality, but it made you only want him more as he focused behind you, shifting his hips against your ass and pressing deeper. You gasped softly, the hand around your waist dripping between your semi-open legs. 

Driver’s rhythm didn't change at your sound, but his blue eyes which has been closed, fixed on some obscure thought of his nice it was to be with someone like this, opened and slowly came to focus on your face. He watched you, his expression unreadable in the dim light but there was a crack in the facade as you moaned again, his mouth twitching. 

“Mmmmm… Y-You’re always so much bi-bigger than I remember, Driver.” You panted into the air, your voice barely a tangible whisper for him. But, he heard it. And for a moment, nothing changed. He continued his steady, measured pace of railing into you as if he didn't hear your compliment at all. “You feel incredible.” 

That was the nail he needed. You felt it - a subtle shift in his fingertips, the way he moved behind you before giving you a slightly deeper thrust forward. You groaned at that, feeling him stretch you like it was the first time, head tilting to the side. Driver’s gaze met yours immediately and you’re both frantically searching for something. 

“Y-You’re being awfully quiet.” You observed, your hand reaching up to cup the side of his face as he thrusted deeper into you, his free hand coming up to grasp your thigh to keep your leg from rebounding and clamping shut. Driver didn't bother responding verbally, but you were in for a treat as he leaned his face in to capture your lips in a tired kiss, languid and bustling with the affection he so often chose to ignore because it was easier in his line of work. His lips brushed against yours before captivating down your jaw to your ear. 

“I’d rather listen to you than listen to me.” He moved behind you once again, the bed frame creaking a bit with that as his cock hit that spot inside of you that made you grasp at the side of his face in desperation, his thrusts becoming that much more purposeful, more attune to your reactions.

The compliment that had gone vaguely unnoticed, at least in your perspective, was driving him crazy to the point where Driver became irrationally focused on your pleasure, determined not to understand every nuance and sensation. He needed this more than he could tell you, so he was going to show you.