Heya! May i have a Mandalorian x fem!reader? She's like his mechanic or something but she's also very attached to Grogu and is very caring towards them both. Maybe they're out somewhere and are attacked and reader gets hurt protecting Grogu and Din realizes how much he cares for her?
author's note: Thank you so much for requesting <3
A Home Among the Stars
The hiss of pressurized air filled the workshop as you carefully adjusted the hydrospanner in your hand. Your fingers danced over the controls, tightening bolts along the Razor Crest’s engine panel. Despite the old ship’s wear and tear, it had a charm that only a mechanic could appreciate—or someone who spent hours trying to keep it in the sky.
And that someone was you.
“Din,” you called out, wiping your grease-covered hands on your pants. You didn’t care about appearances when it came to your work. “When’s the last time you actually replaced the heat shielding? This thing’s held together with spit and hope.”
Din Djarin, the Mandalorian clad in his beskar armor, leaned against the entryway, arms crossed. His helmet tilted slightly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you could almost feel his sheepishness.
“It works,” he said simply, voice smooth and modulated.
You rolled your eyes, brushing a strand of hair out of your face. “Yeah, well, it won’t for long if you keep running it into blaster fire and letting Jawas ‘fix’ it with spare parts.”
A soft coo interrupted your lecture, and you glanced to the side to find Grogu perched on a crate, watching you intently. His big eyes sparkled with curiosity as his tiny hands fiddled with a stray bolt you’d left lying around.
“And you,” you said, smiling warmly as you crouched in front of him. “That’s not a toy, little guy.”
Grogu tilted his head, holding the bolt up as if in protest.
“Don’t encourage him,” Din muttered, stepping closer.
Ignoring the bounty hunter, you gently took the bolt from Grogu’s hands, replacing it with a small, smooth rock you kept in your pocket. It was something you’d found on one of your countless scavenging trips—a perfect fit for tiny hands.
“There,” you said softly, brushing your thumb over Grogu’s cheek. “Much better.”
The child made a happy sound, clutching the rock tightly. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight, your chest warming with a tenderness you hadn’t felt in years.
“You spoil him,” Din said, though his tone lacked any real bite.
You straightened, shooting him a look. “And you don’t?”
Din shrugged. “He’s—”
“Special,” you finished for him. “I know. And he deserves to be treated that way.”
For a moment, the two of you stood in silence, the hum of the ship and Grogu’s contented babbling filling the air.
“You’re good with him,” Din said eventually, his voice quieter than usual.
Your heart skipped a beat at the unexpected compliment. “He’s easy to love,” you replied, glancing at Grogu. “Both of you are.”
The words slipped out before you could stop them, and you immediately busied yourself with your tools, pretending you hadn’t just bared your soul in the middle of an engine repair.
Din didn’t respond right away, and the weight of his gaze felt almost tangible. You wondered what thoughts were running through his mind behind that expressionless helmet.
“Thank you,” he said finally, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it.
You looked up, surprised. His stance had relaxed slightly, and though you couldn’t see his face, you felt the sincerity in his words.
“Anytime,” you said, giving him a small smile.
The planet was quiet, almost too quiet, as you followed Din through the narrow, winding paths of the market. It was the kind of place that seemed like it had more shadows than people, where eyes lingered too long and conversations hushed when strangers passed. Din walked ahead, his hand resting lightly on the blaster at his hip, while Grogu cooed softly from his floating pod beside you.
“Stick close,” Din said, his voice low but firm. He didn’t turn to look at you, but you could tell from the slight tilt of his helmet that he was checking on you regardless.
“I always do,” you replied, scanning the area. The market stalls were packed with all sorts of strange goods: glowing crystals, exotic fruits, scraps of tech you couldn’t identify. Despite the eerie atmosphere, you couldn’t help but feel a flicker of curiosity.
Grogu made a delighted sound as you passed a stall selling shiny trinkets, his little hands reaching out toward the wares.
“No,” Din said immediately, his tone that of a long-suffering parent.
“Oh, come on,” you said, smiling as you reached into your pocket. “It’s just a little shiny thing. Let him have it.”
Din sighed, but he didn’t stop you as you handed over a few credits to the vendor and picked up a small metal orb. You placed it in Grogu’s hands, and his wide eyes sparkled with joy as he turned it over, inspecting it like it was the most fascinating thing he’d ever seen.
“You’re going to spoil him rotten,” Din muttered.
“That’s the goal,” you shot back, grinning.
The Mandalorian shook his head, but you could see the faintest tilt of his helmet that suggested amusement.
The moment of levity didn’t last long. A sharp noise—a blaster bolt cutting through the air—shattered the peace of the market. Din moved before you even processed what was happening, his blaster drawn and his body positioned protectively in front of you and Grogu.
“Get to cover,” he barked, his voice tense.
You didn’t argue. Scooping Grogu’s pod closer to you, you ducked behind a stack of crates, your heart pounding in your chest.
The attackers came into view a moment later—three figures clad in mismatched armor, their weapons raised. You didn’t recognize them, but their intent was clear.
“Hand over the kid,” one of them growled, his voice distorted by a crude helmet.
“Not happening,” Din replied coldly.
Blaster fire erupted, the sound deafening in the confined space. Din moved with precision, returning fire and taking down one of the attackers in seconds. But the others were quick, flanking him and forcing him to retreat closer to your position.
Your hands trembled as you reached for the small blaster Din had insisted you carry. You weren’t a fighter, not like him, but you weren’t about to sit idly by while he and Grogu were in danger.
Grogu whimpered, clutching the shiny orb you’d given him, and your resolve hardened. You shifted to shield his pod with your body, your eyes scanning for an opening.
One of the attackers broke away, heading straight for you.
“Din!” you shouted, but he was too occupied with the other assailant to intervene.
You didn’t think. You didn’t have time to. As the attacker raised his weapon, you lunged forward, firing your blaster. The shot went wide, but it was enough to throw him off. He snarled, swinging his rifle like a club. The impact caught you in the side, and pain exploded through your ribs as you hit the ground hard.
“Stay away from him!” you gasped, struggling to your feet.
The attacker ignored you, his focus locked on Grogu. Adrenaline surged through you, overriding the pain, and you threw yourself between them just as he raised his rifle again. The butt of the weapon struck your shoulder, sending you sprawling.
“Hey!” Din’s voice cut through the chaos, sharp and furious.
Before the attacker could land another blow, Din was there. His blaster fired point-blank, dropping the man instantly.
The last assailant, realizing he was outmatched, fled, leaving the market eerily quiet once more.
Din turned to you, his helmet tilting as he took in your crumpled form.
“You’re hurt,” he said, his voice tight.
“I’m fine,” you lied, wincing as you tried to sit up.
“You’re not fine.” He was already kneeling beside you, his gloved hands hovering uncertainly before settling on your arm. “Why didn’t you stay behind cover?”
You glanced at Grogu, who was peering out of his pod with a worried expression. “I couldn’t let them hurt him,” you said simply.
Din was silent for a moment, his grip on your arm tightening slightly. Then, without a word, he scooped you up, carrying you as if you weighed nothing.
“Din—”
“Quiet,” he interrupted, his voice softer now but still firm. “We’re leaving.”
Grogu’s pod floated along beside him as he carried you back toward the Razor Crest, his stride purposeful.
Back on the ship, Din set you down carefully on the small cot in the corner of the hull. He moved with an efficiency that spoke of experience, pulling out a medkit and sitting beside you.
“Let me see,” he said, gesturing to your side.
“I told you, I’m fine—”
“Let me see,” he repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.
You sighed, relenting as you pulled up your shirt to reveal the bruises blooming across your ribs. Din’s hands stilled for a moment before he reached out, his touch surprisingly gentle as he examined the injury.
“You’re reckless,” he said quietly, though there was no anger in his voice—only something softer, something you couldn’t quite name.
“You’re one to talk,” you muttered, earning a faint huff of amusement from him.
His gloved fingers lingered on your skin for a moment longer than necessary before he pulled away, reaching for a bacta patch. As he applied it, you noticed how careful he was, as if he was afraid of hurting you.
“Why would you do that?” he asked suddenly, his voice low.
You blinked, caught off guard by the question. “Do what?”
“Put yourself in danger like that.”
You hesitated, searching for the right words. “Because I care about him. About both of you.”
Din stilled, his helmet tilted down toward you. You couldn’t see his face, but you felt the intensity of his gaze all the same.
“You didn’t have to,” he said, his voice almost a whisper.
“I did,” you said softly. “I’d do it again if I had to.”
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. Then, slowly, Din reached up and rested his gloved hand on top of yours.
“Thank you,” he said, his voice filled with a depth of emotion you hadn’t heard before.
Later, you sat on the cot in the hull, your back pressed against the cool metal wall, a blanket wrapped loosely around your shoulders. The dull ache in your ribs had subsided slightly thanks to the bacta patch Din applied earlier, but the events of the day lingered like a storm cloud in your mind.
Grogu sat beside you on the cot, cooing softly as he fiddled with the shiny orb you'd given him earlier. Every now and then, he glanced up at you, his wide, soulful eyes filled with concern. You stroked the soft fuzz on his head absentmindedly, letting his quiet presence soothe you.
The sound of heavy footsteps broke your reverie. Din emerged from the cockpit, his armor catching the dim light as he made his way toward you. He stopped a few paces away, his helmet tilted slightly downward, as if he were unsure how to approach.
“You should be resting,” he said, his voice quieter than usual.
“I’m fine,” you replied, though you knew the strain in your voice betrayed you.
“You’re not,” he said, taking another step closer. He gestured to the bruises on your side. “That’s going to take time to heal. You should stay off your feet for a while.”
“And what about you?” you countered, raising an eyebrow. “When’s the last time you rested?”
He didn’t answer, his helmet tilting slightly as if to avoid your gaze.
“Exactly,” you said, shaking your head. “Don’t lecture me about rest when you’re just as bad at it.”
Din sighed, the sound soft but unmistakable. He stepped closer, lowering himself onto the bench across from you. For a moment, the two of you sat in silence, the hum of the ship filling the space between you.
“Why did you do it?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet. His voice was steady, but there was something beneath it—something raw.
“Do what?” you asked, though you already knew the answer.
“Put yourself in danger for him. For us.”
You glanced down at Grogu, who was now chewing on the edge of the blanket draped over your lap. “Because I care,” you said simply, your voice barely above a whisper.
Din didn’t respond right away. Instead, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His helmet was angled toward the floor, but you could feel the weight of his gaze even if you couldn’t see his eyes.
“I’ve seen people do reckless things for credits, for revenge, for power,” he said slowly. “But you… You didn’t hesitate. You didn’t even think about yourself.”
“I thought about Grogu,” you said, your tone firmer now. “And about you. I couldn’t just sit back and let something happen to either of you.”
His shoulders stiffened slightly, and you wondered if you’d said too much. But then he spoke again, his voice softer this time.
“You could’ve been killed.”
“I know.”
“And you’d do it again.”
It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “I would.”
Din leaned back against the wall, his gloved hands resting on his thighs. He stayed silent for a long moment, the tension in the air thick enough to cut.
“You shouldn’t have to,” he said finally, his voice barely audible.
You frowned, tilting your head to the side. “What do you mean?”
“It’s my job to protect him,” he said, his tone almost bitter. “And you. I should’ve been faster, better. You shouldn’t have had to step in.”
The guilt in his voice was palpable, and it twisted something in your chest. You leaned forward, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm.
“Din, you can’t be everywhere at once,” you said gently. “You did everything you could. You always do.”
He didn’t pull away from your touch, but his posture remained rigid. “It’s not enough,” he murmured.
“It is,” you insisted. “And even if it wasn’t, we’re a team, aren’t we? You don’t have to do everything on your own.”
He finally turned his helmet toward you, the reflective surface catching the faint light of the hull. “A team,” he repeated, as if testing the word.
“Yes,” you said firmly. “And a team watches out for each other. That’s what I was doing. Watching out for you and Grogu.”
Grogu chose that moment to coo softly, reaching out with his tiny hands to touch Din’s armored knee. The gesture seemed to break through some of the tension, and Din let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head.
“You spoil him,” he said, though his tone lacked any real admonishment.
“Someone has to,” you replied with a grin.
Din fell quiet again, but this time the silence felt different—less heavy, more contemplative. He reached out, gently brushing his gloved fingers over Grogu’s ear, eliciting a delighted squeal from the child.
“He cares about you,” Din said, his voice warm. “More than I’ve seen him care about anyone else.”
You felt a lump form in your throat, and you swallowed hard before answering. “I care about him, too. And you.”
The words hung in the air between you, heavier than you intended. Din’s helmet tilted slightly, as if he were studying you, and your heart raced under his scrutiny.
“I know,” he said finally, his voice quiet but certain.
You blinked, unsure how to respond. Before you could say anything, Din rose to his feet, his movements fluid and deliberate. He reached out, resting a hand on your shoulder—a brief, almost hesitant gesture, but one that sent warmth spreading through you.
“Get some rest,” he said, his voice soft. “I’ll take first watch.”
“Din—”
“Please,” he added, cutting you off.
The word caught you off guard. You nodded slowly, leaning back against the cot as Grogu snuggled closer to your side. Din lingered for a moment longer before turning and walking back toward the cockpit, his steps heavy but purposeful.
As the door hissed shut behind him, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. Grogu made a soft, contented sound, and you stroked his head absently, your thoughts spinning.
Din’s words echoed in your mind, mingling with the unspoken emotions you’d seen in his actions. There was something there—something deeper than duty, something neither of you were ready to name.
Summary: During a long press tour, you finally get to see your boyfriend.
Pairing: Pedro Pascal x F! Reader
Warnings: Sexual mention, pubic hair and nudity.
Note: His arms 👁️👁️
Tags: Romance, nudity, intimacy, fluffy, drabble.
word count: 506
The sound of their heavy breathing echoed like a soundtrack in that dark hotel room. Almost 3 a.m., the beams of city lights streaming into the room cast a faint shadow over their naked bodies, tired on the bed.
Pedro had his eyes closed, his hand resting on his abdomen as if he'd run a marathon. In the dim light, it was possible to see the sheen of sweat soaking his lightly haired abdomen, trailing down to his softened cock. He noticed her observation and turned his face, his curls plastered to his forehead like an angel's, as he gave her that relaxed smile, blinking calmly.
Reaching up, he leaned in to seal her lips with his. A calm, sweet kiss, as if saying everything that didn't need to be said. But he found his voice again in a whisper, the first syllables hoarse, almost failing.
"I missed you."
You smile and press another kiss, this time gently slipping your tongue into his mouth, meeting his.
"Me too," you whisper.
His fingers touch your chin and then sweep away the strands of your bangs that insist on covering your eyes.
"God, a month. I thought I'd die without this," he says dramatically, eliciting a giggle from you.
"But now you're here."
"I know, but we only have a few hours before my flight," he laments, then huffs. "Damn, this press tour needs to end."
Since the beginning of the year, you've barely had time to see each other. Dates were becoming increasingly rare, and you had to make do with phone conversations, phone calls, video calls... and when you finally did, they were dates that lasted only a day. Every now and then, you'd fly to see him on set, have lunch together for half an hour, and have awkward sex in a trailer.
He blamed himself so much for treating you like that. You didn't deserve it.
Pedro was as sick of it as you were, but he couldn't just carry you around everywhere, even though he'd tried. In none of his relationships had he demanded or suggested this kind of thing, but spending long periods apart made him despair and ponder absurd ideas. He didn't know what was happening to him; he'd never felt this way.
His strong arms wrap around you like a cocoon, giving you a beautiful view of his biceps flexing. Your breasts brush against his chest, creating a pleasant, comforting friction.
"I wish every day were like this, with you by my side," you whisper, just below his Adam's apple.
"I know, baby. I'm so sorry."
You breathe in his skin, the scent of sweat, soap, and woody cologne. A kiss is pressed to the top of your head, and soon his fingers are tangling firmly in your hair. Your eyes grow heavy, and nestling deeper into his chest, you let yourself drift off to sleep, finding it adorable how his heartbeat quickens as he holds you close.
You knew in that moment that he was madly in love with you.
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 :)
Warnings: Smut, Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Fingering
Summary: Din returns from a hunt to a sweet, cozy evening with you and Grogu as you head back home to Nevarro. After dinner in the quiet of hyperspace, Din wants to relax and settle in for the journey by treating you both to some much needed dessert. You are confused at first, but very quickly realize what he has in store for you.
Tags: Din Djarin x Female Reader, Established Relationship, Din and Reader are married, Din takes the helmet off for the Reader and Grogu, Smut, Oral (Female Receiving), Fingering, Domesticity, Sickeningly Sweet Fluff, Din and the reader and Grogu are a family, Takes place after the end of Season 3, Soft Doting Husband and Father Din does things to me.
As soon as Din pressed the button on his vibrance to drop the ramp of the ship; it hit him like a durasteel wall. The air inside was thick with the smell of herbs, spices, meat, vegetables; warm and inviting. The scent was drawing him like a trance, comforting and intoxicating all at once. Immediately his stomach was growling, practically clawing against his ribs for the food that he often went without for days on end when on a hunt. He could almost taste it as his mouth began to salivate inside of his helmet.
"Don't suppose you'd let me postpone my carbonite nap for some dinner?" His quarry, a young human male, suddenly spoke up from his side. Din only tilted his helmet at him before leading him down the hall and all but shoving him into the carbonite chamber.
"No, guess not." The quarry huffed before the freezing mechanism hissed to life. With the job complete and the target ready for transport, Din trudged the final steps up the hall to the main part of the ship. The smell began to grow stronger as did the sound of familiar voices.
"Hey, what did I say about frogs at the table?"
"Ba ba ba!"
Din leaned against the wall, watching the scene playing out before him. Your back was to him as you dutifully stirred the pot on the hot plate. What looked to be a stew was rolling in a consistent boil as tendrils of steam stretched toward the ceiling. Meanwhile, your small green son sat in his chair at the table. His bowl rested empty and waiting to be filled before him, although it seemed that he had snuck an appetizer along with him. A frog wriggled and stretched in his tiny fist as it tried desperately to escape his clutches. Grogu, both determined and faster, promptly shoved the amphibian in his mouth. With a thick swallow, the creature had disappeared, the only remaining sign of the struggle being Grogu's babbling and squealing of victory.
Din bit his lip to hide his chuckle as he felt his heart tighten in his chest. No matter how much time had passed, he still couldn't quite wrap his head around this being his reality. He never imagined himself with a wife, a child, or a clan of his own. If anyone asked even just a few years ago, he would have insisted that he was content with his life of solitude. He thought that if he said it enough, eventually, he would believe the sentiment as much as everyone else seemed to. Loneliness was safe, less vulnerable. Anyone getting too close to him served as a risk. He was a bounty hunter, finishing jobs to send money back to the covert, no more, no less.
Of course, like most of his plans, that conclusion had evaporated as soon as you and Grogu had come into his life. Now, he couldn't picture coming back from a hunt to anything other than this. The gratitude amd disbelief lodged itself in his chest in a way that was nearly uncomfortable, like he could burst into tears if he allowed himself to spiral down far enough into the unlikelihood of you all coming together the way that you had.
"Oh! You're back. I didn't even hear you come in." Your surprised voice broke Din away from his thoughts. His helmet lifted as his gaze landed on your face, eyes wide and lips curled in a soft smile.
"I haven't been here long." He assured, pushing off the wall. "Just put the quarry in carbonite."
Din strode around the table, reaching out to gently pat Grogu's head as he passed.
"Hey little guy, did you behave for your mother today?"
Grogu cooed happily, opening his mouth wide as he smiled up at his father.
"He was perfect as always." You sighed, turning back around to shut off the hot plate.
"Although I think we've made a decent dent in the frog population in the short time that we've been here. They might be an endangered species."
Din snorted as he approached you.
"Well I'll make sure to get the ship in the air before they declare a state of emergency." His gloved hands swatted yours away from the handles of the pot.
"Sit, I've got this."
You regarded him with a small half smile before doing as you were told and taking your seat at the small table. Din carried the pot over, setting it in the center and picking up the ladle from where it rested on the counter. He diligently served you all a portion before dropping into his chair with a thud.
The familiar hiss of Din's helmet depressurizing as he lifted it over his head drew your eyes away from your bowl. Din regularly showed his face around you and Grogu since you had been married and adopted the child as your own. However the sight of his deep brown eyes and disheveled curls, matted from being beneath his helmet, still made your heart skip a beat.
Din set his helmet on the floor next to his foot before grasping his spoon and bringing a bite of piping hot stew to his mouth. He loved his meals as hot as possible, not wanting to wait even a minute for it to cool down before digging in. You thought that it was a quirk developed from years of eating rations or questionable dishes in cantinas when he had been traveling alone. Home cooking was a luxury, and one that you were more than happy to spoil him with.
As soon as the first bite had made its way down his throat, Din was shutting his eyes and letting out a long groan. You giggled, a smirk playing at your lips as you blew softly on your own spoon.
"That good huh?" He shook his head.
"You have no idea."
The rest of your meal passed peacefully as you ate and talked quietly. Din recounted the events of his hunt, and you filled him in on Grogu's antics from when you traveled to the neighboring settlement for supplies. Once you had all eaten your fill, you cleared the dishes while Din took Grogu away to get him down for bed. The two of you were a well-oiled machine at this point, deftly moving around one another as you cleaned and readied for the journey home to Nevarro.
Once your tidying was successfully completed, you pressed your ear against the door of Grogu's sleeping chamber. Soft snores could be heard coming from the compartment. Smiling to yourself, you turned and headed to the ladder leading up to the cockpit. You were met with the image of Din's back from where he sat in the pilot's chair, fingers dancing across the control board as he prepped for takeoff. You could tell by the brief pause in his movements that he had heard you coming. His head halfway turned towards you to glance at you out of the corner of his eye.
"Have a seat Cyar'ika." He beckoned to you as his hand stretched forward to grasp onto the yoke. "I'm about to put us up."
You secured yourself in the copilot's chair as you ascended into space. As soon as you left the atmosphere Din was entering the coordinates into the navigation.
"Making the jump now." With a pull on the throttle, you were hurled into hyperspace. You sat back and watched the stars streak by past the viewport in vibrant trails of whites of and blues. Din clicked a few more buttons as he gave the ship's systems a once over.
"Happy to be headed home." You sighed, eyes not straying from the view before you. Din hummed in acknowledgment.
"Me too," he agreed. "Was the little womp rat asleep when you came up?"
"Snoring and everything." You confirmed.
"Some down time on Nevarro will do him some good too." You saw Din nod as you finally turned to him, the look in his eyes soft as he regarded you.
"Should we get some rest while we can? We still have a bit of a journey ahead of us." You asked, beginning to stand up from your chair. Din leaned back in his seat, his hand going to the stubble on his chin.
"Did you want to have dessert first?" Your brow furrowed in confusion.
"I didn't make any dessert." The corner of his mouth twitched upward as he spread his legs wide, eyes traveling down your body slowly before once again meeting your gaze.
"Didn't you?"
It felt like your feet had been welded to the floor. Your breath hitched, and you tried to swallow, though your throat suddenly felt very dry. Your surprise must have been written all over your face as Din leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. A warm laugh bubbled up from deep in his chest.
"Sit back down for me, meshla." You blinked at him before unceremoniously dropping back into the copilots chair, stumbling slightly on unstable legs.
Din rose from the pilot's seat to stalk toward you, like a predator circling its prey. He silently closed the distance between you before slowly sinking to his knees, his movements measured and almost graceful for a large mandalorian in a full suit of beskar. All the while his dark eyes were boring into yours, not even shifting once as he settled on the floor.
His fingers made quick work of removing your boots and socks before he splayed his palms on your shins. You could feel the warmth from his skin even through the leather gloves and the material of your pants as he trailed them up your legs. Without missing a beat, your belt was undone, and your fly was opened.
"Up," he murmured.
You swallowed hard, not needing further clarification as you braced yourself on the arms of the chair to raise your hips. His fingertips bit into the skin of your hips as they curled underneath your waistband. Once they were secure in their grip, your pants and underwear were slid down your legs in one fluid motion.
You watched with rapt attention as Din bit the ends of each of gloves and tugged, the leather falling to the floor to join your pants. When his bare, calloused palms met the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, you couldn't help but to gasp. Din hummed low in his throat as he guided your legs apart and moved in closer, hooking your bent knees over his shoulders.
"Meshla." He sighed, eyes fluttering closed briefly when he became eye level with your center.
"Are you already this wet just from watching me get on my knees for you?"
You moaned helplessly as you nodded, practically vibrating already with anticipation. Din leaned in further until his lips were nearly brushing against your sensitive skin when he paused, looking up at you.
"I want you to keep your eyes on me pretty girl. Got it?" You were breathing heavily, unable to tear yourself from the image laid out in front of you even if you tried. Your tongue subconsciously darted out to lick your lips.
"Yeah..I..I got it." You murmured. Din smiled, a wicked, cocky grin. It would be infuriating to be so wrecked by him all before he had even touched you, if only he weren't so handsome while he did it.
"That's my girl."
Din's grip on your thighs tightened as he spread you wider. When his tongue finally drew a long line up your folds, you shuddered, your hands immediately flying down to grasp onto his hair. Din was already groaning as his tongue expertly drew circles around your clit and then dipped down to your entrance, savoring the taste.
"Dank ferrik you're sweet." He cursed, barely above a whisper. "My sweet girl."
There was something about the idea of your strong, intimidating mandalorian kneeling before you that always made your brain short circuit. Din's body could largely be considered to be just as dangerous as the weapons that he carried. He was a warrior by definition; cunning, lethal, and precise.
And yet, he was still all of those things while drawing pleasure from your body. He knew exactly where to place his tongue and fingers, where to lick, kiss, and bite to have you writhing and squirming beneath him. He knew the amount of pressure that would bring you closest to the precipice or send you hurtling over the edge. Din was just as competent when handling your body as he was handling any piece of weaponry. The fact that you were the only one who got to see him like this, to reap the benefits of his skilled hands and even more so skilled tongue, made your blood simmer in your veins and your heart clench with something sweet and possessive.
Din knew it too. You could tell in the way that his eyes constantly darted up to your face to gauge your reactions to his ministrations. He knew exactly the effect that he had on you, and was unapologetic in how he exploited it.
When you felt Din's fingertips ghosting along your inner thigh and tracing the outside of your entrance, your hips nearly jerked out of your chair. Din chuckled, briefly pulling back from your soaked cunt to fix you with a dazzling smile.
He leaned back in to latch his lips around your clit, sucking it softly as he slid two thick fingers into you, seating them down to the knuckle. You gasped and momentarily forgot his rule as your head dropped against the back of the chair, eyes screwing shut. Without hesitation, Din's opposite hand pinched the skin of your inner thigh as the delicious pressure around your clit receded.
"Hey, what did I say?" You yelped as your eyes shot open, and you froze, his intense stare pinning you where you sat.
"I..." You stammered trying desperately to form words through the thick fog of arousal muddling your thoughts.
"To..to keep my eyes on you." He hummed.
"That's right." As if to punctuate his words, his fingers drew back before sinking back into you as deep as they could go. You bit your lip to stifle your moan but dutifully kept your eyes locked on his.
"You keep your eyes on me. I want to watch you as I take you apart. Do you understand?"
"Yeah...I understand." You breathlessly replied, gripping the arms of the copilot's chair.
"Good girl." Without any hesitation, Din was picking up where he left off as his lips wrapped around your clit and his fingers began pumping in and out of you in earnest.
You were writhing and moaning, back arching as your body tried in vain to draw even closer to him. The heels of your feet were digging into his back as your hips desperately moved with his fingers, twisting and angling to try to bring them to the spot inside that you needed him most.
However, Din was faster and more acutely aware of your needs. He curled his fingers upward until he found the soft, spongy spot within your walls. His fingers thrust into it precisely again and again as he picked up the pace, flicking your swollen clit with his tongue.
"Fuck Din!" You cried. "Right there."
Din's eyes met yours, and you could see the creases at the corners from where you knew he must be smirking at you. You could feel the familiar heat beginning to swirl in your gut, tingling up your spine and pulling goosebumps from your skin. When your legs began to shake, you knew it was only a matter of time. Only your panting breaths and the obscenely wet sounds of your cunt echoed in the cockpit as Din pushed you headlong toward your end.
All the while your eyes never strayed, barely blinked as you watched him work you with adept attention. The beskar of his armor was surely digging into the backs of your calves, but you paid it no mind. The image of him in his full suit of armor, his hair sticking up from where your hands had pulled it, stubbled chin glistening in the low light of the cockpit, was enough to make your head swim.
"Din!" You gasped his name in warning. "I'm.." You didn't need to finish your sentence as he groaned against you, the vibrations against your clit tipping you over the edge.
Your orgasm washed over you like a tidal wave. The pleasure bloomed in your gut and had you shakinh uncontrollably as you twisted and heaved your body beneath his hold. Din diligently worked you through it, moaning when his tongue dipped down to greedily lick up your release.
It took a moment for you to register that you were whimpering his name, blinking down at him with wide eyes when his own met yours again with a sweet smile.
"Shhh cyar'ika, you did so well." He husked, his hand coming up to wipe some of the mess away from his face while the fingers of his other hand were tracing affectionate circles over your thigh.
"I love making you cum like that." You smiled back at him, reaching out to smooth some of his curls back away from his forehead.
"You're amazing Din," you doted on him softly. "You always know what I need." He grinned at that, turning his head to press a delicate kiss to the inside of your wrist.
"I've had my fair share of practice." Din gently removed your legs from his shoulders before he stood to his full height.
"In fact..." He continued, stepping into your space. When you craned your neck upward to meet his gaze, his thumb and forefinger took hold of your chin, the pad of this thumb ghosting over your bottom lip.
"We have time for some more practice if you're willing." You grinned up at him, making a show of raking your eyes down over his body.
"I think that could be arranged." You agreed. "As much as I love you in all that armor, you're a lot more fun without it."
Din huffed a laugh, taking hold of your hands to help you to your feet.
"Only because you were so good," he teased, leading you out of the cockpit. "I think I'll grant your request."
You giggled softly as you followed him down to the dark safety of your bunk, content to lose yourself in him for a while longer in the quiet of space as you made your journey home.
Summary: Takes place during The Mandalorian: Chapter 18. Din is prepping for his journey to bathe in the living waters in the mines of Mandalore. However, he will not let you accompany him. Confused and frustrated, you go to meet Peli on Boonta Eve to discuss business. While you are there Din says something to her that takes you by surprise. You confront him about it that evening with surprising results that bring a new meaning to your relationship.
Warnings: Miscommunication, Mentions of Arguing, Light Spice, Implied Smut
Tags: Din Djarin x Female Reader, Established Relationship, Mentions of Arguing, Miscommunication, Peli being the best babysitter, Light Spice, Mentions of Smut but nothing explicit, Din is a big softy for the reader and Grogu.
There was a stark contrast between the atmosphere of Mos Eisley on Boonta Eve and the apprehension swirling around your own mind as you exited your ship. Your gaze locked onto where your mandalorian was waiting for you, Grogu safely nestled in his arms. No words were spoken as you joined him and began the short walk over to hangar 3-5.
Typically, the three of you would be traveling together. Except this time you would not be leaving Tatooine as a group. Din was stopping off to see his old contact to inquire about a Droid part and to tune up his N-1 before proceeding to Mandalore. There, he hoped to find redemption within his covert and to take Grogu along on the adventure to teach him more about the galaxy and the mandalorian ways.
You, on the other hand, would be remaining on Tatooine. When you had left your previous visit with Din's covert, you had received a transmission from Boba Fett and Fennec. They were looking for some reinforcements to combat a crime gang that had attempted to conduct business within the city parameters. You had initially thought that Din would postpone your trip to Mandalore to offer assistance. However, he surprised you when he promised only your services to Fett, while he and Grogu continued on to Mandalore.
The discussion that you'd had after Grogu had gone to bed that night was heated. You couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you to come to Mandalore with them. You had both been present when the covert spoke of how dangerous the planet had become since the Purge. The air was rumored to be poisoned and the ground was unstable at best. It seemed like a task that would require both of you, even if only so that you could watch Din's back.
Naturally, Din did not agree. He insisted repeatedly that he and Grogu would be fine, and that they would take a droid with them to assist with testing the air quality and overall integrity of the planet's surface. You had argued all the way to where you were picking up Din's N-1. As the ramp of your ship opened, he spun on his heel to grab your arm. His helmet was inches from your face, the heat of his stare seeming to pierce through the visor.
"You are going to Tatooine, and I am going to Mandalore. No more discussions." His tone was sharp, words clipped as he left no room for you to object.
"The coordinates for hangar 3-5 are already in your navigation. Land outside the city walls and I'll meet you there."
Before any other words could be spoken, he had dropped his hand and headed off to his fighter with Grogu in tow. You had been left to stew in your frustration and fear the whole way to the outer rim. Now that the three of you were together once again, it seemed as though the tension between you and Din had not dissipated.
Despite the circumstances, you could still feel your excitement rising as you entered Mos Eisley. The city was in full swing of its Boonta Eve celebrations. Vendors and travelers from all corners of the galaxy crowded the streets. Cheers, shouts, and laughter could be heard from all directions, sending the typical hustle and bustle of the population into overdrive.
The prospect of meeting Peli was also intriguing to you. Din had spoken of his unlikely friend that he'd made almost by accident several times. You knew she was a character, to say the least, but that Din also trusted her intrinsically. The fact that he allowed her to watch Grogu unsupervised for any length of time told you all that you needed to know.
Upon arrival to hangar 3-5, you received as warm of a welcome as you expected. You smiled softly when Grogu leapt into Peli's awaiting arms. Her and Din discussed his need for a droid to take to Mandalore as you observed idly. Finally, once the arrangements had been made for her R-5 to go with them, Peli's eyes rested on you.
"And who is this pretty thing you brought with you this time?" You smiled and held out your hand while telling her you name.
"I'm.."
"My wife." Din finished your sentence for you.
Your turned your head to look at him so fast that it could have come clean off of your shoulders. Din's helmet was facing straight ahead, not even so much as tilting toward you. Meanwhile, Peli's eyebrows rose nearly up to her hairline as her eyes darted between the two of you.
"Your wife?!" She exclaimed. "First you bring me your kid without mentioning it and now your wife?" She laughed, a knowing smirk playing on her lips.
"Who knew you had a heart underneath all that armor?" Din sighed in exasperation as his hands went to his hips, offering no further explanations.
"Tell you what," Peli continued. "I'll prep R-5 for the journey to Mandalore and watch the little guy. You two lovebirds should go enjoy the festivities for a while before you ship out. And I'll tune up your ship. No extra babysitting fee required."
There was a pause before Din stepped closer to your side.
"Fine, we'll be back in a few hours." Your mind was still reeling as one of his large hands splayed solidly against your back. He turned you both around until you were heading back out of the hangar. Din still did not so much as spare a glance down at your face.
If he did, he would have seen the way your eyes were glazed over and your mouth was hanging slightly open. You were utterly dumbfounded. The two of you had fought for your entire journey, not said a word to each other since landing, and now all of a sudden you were his wife? It had taken a long time for yours and Din's partnership to turn into a trusting friendship, and even longer for that friendship to blossom into something deeper. These days, your relationship could probably be described as close to a marriage that you could get. You were raising a child together after all. However, up until now neither of you had yet to even mention the idea of a real marriage, much less make that kind of commitment.
You were drawn away from your confusion as Din's arm slid around your waist.
"Stay close," He murmured, his head staying on a swivel as he scanned your surroundings. You quickly realized that he was leading you back the way you had come, away from the main part of the city.
"I thought we were 'enjoying the festivites'," you questioned, parroting Peli's words from earlier.
"We are," Din confirmed kurtly. "Just away from prying eyes."
It didn't take long before you were out of the city and back on your ship. Din wasted no time in getting you in the air, flying you low over the planet's surface. Only a few minutes passed, and you were landing once again. You didn't wait for him before descending down the ramp.
The view that you were met with upon exiting the ship was nearly enough to take your breath away. Din had landed you atop a ridge not far from Mos Eisley. It was high enough that you could get a full view of the city and its celebrations. There were fireworks lighting up the desert, making it look like a large ship floating across the dune sea. You could vaguely make out the cheers of spectators and the consistent hum of podracer engines. Smoke from the food vendors rose up to create a mysterious shroud over the skyline above the buildings. This was seeing Tatooine like you never had before. It looked almost magical, and nothing like the dry, backwater outerim outpost that it was on any other day.
"I told you we'd still be partaking." Din's voice from behind you once again brought you back to reality.
"Just from a different vantage point."
You turned around in time to see Din spreading a blanket onto the ground. He then retrieved a bottle of what looked to be wine and two cups from behind a rock before taking a seat.
"How did you know this was up here?" You asked, sitting down across from him. "And since when do we have wine on the ship?"
"The tuskens showed me this on one of my jobs. They use it as a lookout during their patrols." He explained while pouring some wine into the first cup and handing it to you.
"The wine is from Greef. It's from Corellia, expensive. He said to save it for a special occassion."
You took a sip before meeting his visor with a quizzical look.
"So, you just happened to have this whole date planned?"
Din's fingers went to the lip of his helmet so that he could lift it just enough to take a drink. Even though you were alone out here, you still averted your gaze to the night sky on instinct.
"It was an idea that I was also saving for a special occasion." You huffed a laugh.
"Like Boonta Eve?" He placed his cup back on the blanket before meeting your eyes.
"Like before we are going to be apart for the first time since you started traveling with me."
That made you pull up short. You placed your cup down beside his, sighing heavily as you looked back at him with weary eyes.
"I don't want to fight with you." You spoke quietly, as though you would scare him away with any sudden move. "But I was there, I heard what your covert said about Mandalore. It's not safe. What if something happens to you? To Grogu?" Your voice began to waver as you tried in vain to swallow down your emotions.
"I've been there with you through everything. If I don't know what's going on or whether or not you're safe, how am I supposed to live with myself?"
"I think the same things about you." Din replied, his voice quieter now through the modulator.
"I want you to stay here and help Fett, not just because he's our ally but because I know that he will watch out for you." You made a disgruntled sound.
"I just don't understand why you have to go to Mandalore now. You can't wait until this job with Fett is over so that we could all go together?"
"No." His solemn reply was immediate and absolute. "I have to go bathe in the living waters and be redeemed. As soon as I am Mandalorian again we can return to the covert to tie up our loose ends."
Your head tilted slightly as you regarded him. "What loose ends?"
Din paused for a moment to look out over the sand below.
"You know that I have been training Grogu in the Mandalorian ways." You nodded slowly.
"Once I am redeemed, he can become my apprentice and be added to the song. Then he will no longer be a foundling, and it will be my job to take him on adventures across the galaxy and teach him, just as I was taught."
Din's helmet turned to face you once again. You heard him swallow thickly as his gloved hand slid across the blanket to settle beneath yours, your fingers dwarfed by his large palm.
"I was hoping that once I am redeemed, you and I could take vows. And you could be added to the song as well...as my wife."
Your eyes widened as you stared through the black 'T' of his visor to where you knew his eyes were.
"Your....wife?" You stammered as you felt your heart rate pick up.
"Yes." Din confirmed, grasping your hand and bringing it up to rest on his beskar over his chest.
"Is that something that you want, Cyar'ika?"
Your eyes began to fill with unshed tears as you let out a breath that you didn't even realize that you had been holding.
"Din," You spoke his name reverently, like a prayer.
"I'm already your wife in every sense of the word. You, me, Grogu...we're already a family. You don't have to risk your life traveling to Mandalore to prove that to us."
"I know that." He quickly agreed. "But, I've already done so much against my creed to keep us safe...I just want to do this one thing the right way...just this once."
You nodded, giving him a watery smile as you inched closer.
"Then that's what we'll do." Din sighed, his hand leaving yours to rest it on the side of your face. You leaned into the touch, allowing your eyes to close as you felt the warmth of his skin radiating through the leather of his glove.
"Is that why you told Peli that I was your wife?" He huffed quietly.
"Yes, and to prevent further questions. It's better that way with her, trust me." You laughed softly as your eyes opened.
"Does this mean we're engaged?" Din chuckled, a warm, happy sound that made your heart flutter whenever you heard it.
"Mandalorians don't have engagements or weddings. We take vows, and then our unions are added to the song so that we can acknowledge the furthering of our lineage. However, by your definition... Yeah, I guess we would be."
You shook your head, taking the opportunity to close the space between you and slide into his lap. Your knees bracketed his hips as your arms moved upward, hands sliding into the cowl around his neck. His helmet tilted upward to meet your eyes as he moved to hold onto your hips in kind.
"I can't believe you proposed to me at Boonta."
Din snorted as he gave your belt an affectionate tug.
"Keep it up and I won't marry you until next Boonta." You rolled your eyes.
"You're the one who wants to marry me so bad, Djarin. I don't think you could wait for me that long if you tried." He hummed as his hands began to slide up your back, pulling goosebumps from your skin as they went.
"No you're probably right." Din leaned in toward you as your eyes darted from his visor down to the bottom of his helmet.
"Promise me something," You whispered before you could become carried away.
"Anything." Din murmured, his fingers already going to the rim of his helmet. You squeezed your eyes shut before he even had to tell you.
"Promise me you'll come back." The hand on his helmet paused for a moment as the other tightened at your waist.
"You have my word, cyare." He swore, voice deep and unwavering.
"I'm going to be redeemed, and then I'm going to come back and marry you." Your breath caught in your throat as you nodded, silently willing the tears that had begun to gather at your lash line not to spill over.
"Then you can also have mine." You promised. "I will stay with Boba and Fennec until you and Grogu return. You have my word. I'll wait for you."
You felt Din's shoulders physically relax as he exhaled. The next thing you heard was his helmet depressurizing so that he could close the distance and finally press his lips to yours.
The kiss was passionate and consuming as Din's lips laid claim to yours. His tongue slid into your mouth as his hand left your waist to cradle the back of your head, twisting into your hair. Din had always been a man of action. His body often told the story that his words could not. It was in the way that he held you, firmly but still tender. It was how his lips moved against yours, like he couldn't stop if he tried, like you were oxygen and he would suffocate should he let go.
You moaned softly in the back of your throat as your fingers found where his curls had begun to poke out from beneath his helmet. You gave the strands a tug as you pressed yourself impossibly closer against his armor. Din groaned in response but pulled back, leaving you a bit disappointed as you heard the familiar hiss of his helmet clicking back into place.
"Cyar'ika" He sighed, sounding more out of breath than you anticipated.
"We can't do this out here, we're too exposed." Your eyes fluttered open, smiling as you took in the steady rise and fall of his chest.
"Well," you began, glancing at the chrono on your wrist. "I think Peli can watch the kid for a bit longer if you wanted to take this inside the ship. Unless, there's some Mandalorian tradition against sleeping together while engaged that I don't know about."
Din groaned, this time in exasperation, before throwing you over his shoulder and standing up in one swift motion. Your responding yelp devolved into giggles a you playfully hit the armor on his back.
"Come here you," He said in an amused tone as he walked you both back onto the ship, the Boonta celebration long forgotten as you had your own celebration in the dark of your bunk.
You were a god of textiles; respected, but generally considered a minor deity. But everything changed when mortals started regularly describing spacetime and reality as a 'fabric'.
Summary: A solitary medic’s quiet life is disrupted when a wounded Mandalorian appears on her outpost. Over months of silent visits, cryptic gifts, and quiet trust, they form a bond that transcends armor and distance. When he offers a dagger forged from his own armor, she must choose whether to follow him into a dangerous, uncertain life — and into his heart.
Warnings: Contains mild violence, blood and medical treatment, and romantic/sexual tension, fluff.
The air in the med-bay was a symphony of suffering you conducted daily.
The sharp bite of antiseptic, the faint sweetness of bacta, the metallic tang of blood — it was the perfume of endurance. You were the only medic for fifty klicks in any direction, and you’d seen it all: burns, fractures, the desperate and the dying.
Until the Mandalorian walked in.
Two dockworkers half-carried him through your door, dumped him on the chair, and bolted like they’d delivered a live bomb. He was a storm of battered beskar and silence, a man built for war. A deep wound below his ribs wept dark blood down his side, but he made no sound.
You didn’t flinch.
“On the table,” you ordered, already reaching for gloves.
The black T-visor turned to you, a cold, unblinking assessment. You weren’t a person to him yet — just another variable in a dangerous equation.
“I can fix this,” you said quietly. “But you’ll have to let me work.”
He hesitated for the length of one slow heartbeat, then gave a single, sharp nod.
He was motionless as stone while you cleaned and sealed the gash, every movement efficient and controlled. When you finished, he stood, checked his armor, and pressed a pouch of credits into your palm.
His gloved hand lingered for a fraction of a second longer than it should have — deliberate, grounding. Then he turned and left, a whisper of cape and metal.
You told yourself it was nothing.
He came back weeks later.
You nearly dropped a crate of supplies when you saw him in the doorway.
“You’re healed,” you said.
“Raiders,” came the filtered reply. “West ridge.”
You’d heard the distant blaster fire the night before.
“It’s handled.”
He didn’t elaborate. He simply stood watch until you’d stepped inside and locked the door. Then he turned and vanished into the dark.
It happened again. And again.
He would appear, sometimes with new wounds, sometimes unmarked. You’d patch him up at your kitchen table, hands steady even when your pulse wasn’t. He said little. You learned to read him, the tilt of his helmet, the precise stillness that meant he was listening, the way he’d linger by the door a moment too long before leaving.
It was a strange rhythm, but it became yours.
Then the gifts began.
The first came wrapped in simple cloth, a book, bound in the dark leather of some unknown beast. Inside, the pages were filled with handwritten verses in an elegant, extinct script. You traced a line with your fingers, realizing what it was.
“Alderaanian,” you whispered. “These were destroyed.”
He inclined his head slightly. “Not all.”
You stared at him, wondering how a bounty hunter had come across something so rare. “This must be worth—”
“It’s yours.”
He said it like it meant nothing, like it hadn’t taken him months or blood to find.
The second gift appeared weeks later: a small, clear stasis case. Inside bloomed a flower unlike any you’d ever seen, its petals glowed with faint, bioluminescent veins, colors shifting with every second.
“Where did you find this?” you asked.
“Outer Rim,” he said simply. “A moon untouched by war.”
You pressed a palm against the glass. “It’s beautiful.”
He didn’t respond. But you saw the way his helmet tilted, almost imperceptibly, watching your face, gauging something he couldn’t ask aloud.
The third time, you didn’t find him.
You found the gift instead.
A pendant rested on your windowsill, a teardrop of crystal cut so precisely that it caught the morning light and shimmered the exact color of your eyes. No note. No explanation.
You shouldn’t have kept it. But when you slipped it around your neck, it felt right, not ostentatious, just… right.
When he noticed it a week later, you were treating a burn along his vambrace. The pendant slipped free of your collar, catching the lamplight. His helmet turned instantly, sharply.
He went utterly still.
You tucked it away quickly, pretending not to notice the way his breathing changed, the faintest hitch through the modulator. He said nothing, but his silence that night was heavier. Denser.
You didn’t understand that each gift had been a confession — the only kind he could give.
To him, they weren’t trinkets.
They were declarations.
And you were already wearing his heart around your throat.
Something came undone the night he arrived wounded again, a deep slash across his abdomen, blood dark against beskar.
You ordered him to sit, stripped the armor free, and cleaned the wound. Your hand slipped, brushing warm skin. You flinched, but his hand caught your wrist, steady, not rough.
The air seemed to thicken.
He didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just held your wrist in silence, his grip saying what words never would: don’t run from this.
Your pulse thrummed against his fingers. He released you slowly, like a man letting go of something fragile.
You never spoke of it again. But the current between you had changed.
When he came next he wasn't wounded, but exhausted.
You opened the door before he could knock.
He stepped forward and rested his helmet against your forehead.
The Keldabe kiss.
The gesture was small, but it hollowed the air from your lungs. The beskar was cool, the weight of it grounding. You felt his breath through the modulator — slow, deliberate, as though he was memorizing you.
Then he stepped back. The moment ended.
You told yourself distance was safer.
But safety had begun to feel like a cage.
He returned when the twin moons of Tralus rose pale above the valley. Their light spilled silver across the ground as he stood outside the med-bay, a motionless silhouette against the dusk.
“Come with me,” he said.
His tone left no room for refusal, but there was no command in it, only gravity. You followed him without question.
The climb was steep, the path narrow and edged by wind. Below you, the outpost lights flickered like a constellation half-buried in the dark. Above, the galactic core stretched wide and luminous, smearing the sky with violet fire.
At the ridge’s crest, he stopped. The silence there was vast, just the wind, and the faint hum of the world far below.
“I have one last thing for you,” he said.
From a satchel on his belt, he withdrew a long, narrow box of carved grey wood. The symbols etched into its surface caught the starlight, lines like ancient script. You took it carefully; it was heavier than it looked.
Inside, on a bed of deep-blue silk, lay a dagger. The blade shimmered — silver-black, veins of beskar running through it like lightning frozen in metal. The hilt was bound in dark leather, and set into the pommel was a single gemstone that glowed with a light uncannily like your own eyes.
You stared. “Mando… what is this?”
His voice was low, quiet in the wind. “It’s part of my armor.”
You looked up sharply. “You melted down your armor for this?”
He gave a small nod. “I took it to the Armorer. Told her of the one who saved me—who saw me as more than the steel.” His voice faltered for a fraction of a second, almost imperceptibly. “She forged it herself.”
“In my creed,” he said, voice low and even, “the Armorer’s craft is sacred. A weapon carries memory. To forge one from your own beskar, and gift it... Is a vow.”
Your fingers tightened around the hilt. “A vow of what?”
He took a step closer, the gravel crunching under his boots. “Of belonging. Of standing beside one another. Of trust, the kind that lives and dies as one.”
You could feel your pulse in your throat. “And if I take it?”
“Then you walk my path,” he said simply. “And by our law, by our word… you have the right to see the man who offers it.”
The realization sank into you. The dagger in your hand suddenly felt heavier, radiant with implication.
He gestured to the blade. “Your choice is in whether you take it.”
You met his visor. “You don’t ask for easy things.”
“No,” he said softly. “The Creed never taught me how.”
The night pressed close around you. You looked down at the dagger, its veins of beskar shimmering faintly in the light of the twin moons. Then you wrapped your fingers around the hilt. The metal was warm, as if it had waited for your touch.
“Yes,” you said.
He went utterly still. Not the kind of stillness you’d seen in battle, but something deeper, like a man hearing the impossible. The wind sighed between you, and for the first time since you’d met him, he seemed unarmored even with the beskar still on.
“You’re certain?” His voice was quiet, almost reverent. “The life I lead… it is not an easy path.”
“I know,” you said. “But it’s yours...”
For a moment, you thought he might move, might speak, but instead, he stepped closer until his shadow touched yours. He reached out, his gloved hand turning the dagger so the blade caught the starlight.
Then he spoke words you didn’t understand — low, ancient, rhythmic. Mando’a, you realized. The language carried a strange beauty, the syllables thick with weight and history.
When he finished, he looked at you. “It is the vow,” he said quietly. “The words of the old ways. You must answer.”
Your throat felt dry. “What does it mean?”
He hesitated, then translated in pieces, each phrase deliberate:
"We are one when together, we are one when parted, we will share all, we will raise warriors."
The last line lingered in the air, ancient and binding.
He held the dagger out, hilt first, both hands steady. “Speak the words,” he said, voice low, the modulator trembling with something dangerously close to emotion.
You met his gaze through the black visor. Your pulse thundered. Then, slowly, you repeated the vow. "Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dhar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi ba'juri verde." The words were strange on your tongue but somehow right, as if they had waited lifetimes to be spoken here.
When the last syllable left your lips, he released a breath that shook. He looked down, shoulders bowed, one hand coming up to his helmet as though the air had suddenly become too heavy.
“It’s done,” he said, barely more than a whisper. “By creed, by blood… by heart. You are bound to me. You’ve earned the right to see the man beneath the armour.”
He lifted his gaze. His movements were deliberate, reverent. When his hand reached for the latch, it wasn’t hesitation this time, it was ceremony.
The hiss of the seal releasing cut through the quiet like the sound of a star being born.
He lifted the helmet away.
He was not the myth that the armor had promised. He was raw and real, his hair curled at his forehead, his jaw shadowed with stubble. His eyes, deep brown and unguarded, searched yours as if you were something he had dreamed into being.
He swallowed hard, and you realized his hands were trembling. “This… this is me,” he said. “You’re the only one who will ever see me like this.”
You stepped closer, the dagger still in your hand. “Then I’ll remember every detail,” you whispered.
He drew a shuddering breath, eyes flicking between yours, unsure what to do with the weight of being known. His voice broke the silence, roughened by nerves.
“I thought I’d forgotten what this felt like,” he said. “To be seen. To be… chosen.”
You reached up, brushing your fingers along his cheekbone. He leaned into the touch as if starved for it, eyes closing for a heartbeat, his breath trembling against your wrist.
Then you kissed him.
It was not hurried. It was quiet, certain, a slow collapse of the distance that had haunted you both. His hands came up, one cupping your face, the other splaying against the small of your back, the leather warm against your tunic.
When you pulled back, your foreheads stayed pressed together. You felt him smile, small, disbelieving.
“What happens now?” you murmured.
He opened his eyes, the faintest spark of light in them. “Now,” he said, “we walk the same road. Wherever it leads.”
Author’s Note:
______________
Hi! I’m trying my hand at writing for The Mandalorian. I’m not sure yet if I’ll continue this story, but I might explore it further if there’s interest. This story originally started with the goal of it ending in smut, but I found it challenging to write that for a character who never removes his helmet — staying true to Din’s character felt more important. I envision this as possibly a three-part story: the second part could include smut maybe angst, and the third would be their happy ending.
If you enjoyed this story, I’d really appreciate it if you interacted with this post so I can gauge whether it’s worth continuing. Thanks so much!
Warnings: none, enough fluff to fill a medium sized stuffed animal
Summary: Din is silly, because even tough boys have to be, every once in awhile
>>
Din Djarin was staring at you. You weren’t sure how you knew but you always did.
It was one of the few peaceful days on the Razor Crest, and you had been thoroughly enjoying it, occupying the little one as you cleaned and fixed things, teaching yourself new things, and sneaking glances at your riduur.
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