#cyclist!din

[aesnawan]

If you look into grogu's eyes for too long he WILL steal your soul

[djarinsbeskar]

Since I'm in bed with Miss 'Rona feeling sorry for myself, let's talk all things Din.

Stitches Din, Boxer Din, Cyclist Din and yes, even Minotaur Din. Any thoughts, questions or hot-takes are welcome and a much apprceiated distraction!

[honestly-shite]

Din is frustrated out on a ride 'cos he keeps thinking of you. He convinces himself that Grogu is babbling about you too to make himself feel better.

Heavily inspired by @djarinsbeskar 's Cyclist!Din fic.

cyclist!din keeps invading my brain

[radiowallet]

I was in my feelings tonight and you know what that means: mood board time!

If you haven’t read @djarinsbeskar Cyclist!Din au then please pop over and give yourself a Monday treat. It’s got all the things you need, Din in spandex, a cute teacher, baby Grogu. 🔥🔥🔥

[djarinsbeskar]

Cyclist Din Djarin x Fem!Reader ‘relaxed fit’ fic series

Genres: Slice of life, smut, fluff, domesticity, family, friendship. It’s all here.

Rating: 18+ nsfw will be marked with **

Inspiration: this piece by the insanely talented @aesnawan

open for requests, headcanons, prompts etc. Updated sporadically. I try to list these out chronologically, but I’m constantly jumping time to play around with different parts like the menace I am.

| Main Masterlist |

The Shower - nothing beats a refreshing shower after a long, hard ride in the sweltering heat.

Spandex and Smiles - the Mando Cycle Club just can't leave Din alone about his crush.

Perfect Cardio** -  just what did he say to make you go home with him? [see: perfect warm-up]

Perfect Warm-Up** - revealing what he said to get you in his bed.

Cooldown** - and what did he say to drive you away?

Frustration** - cycling and looking keeping his bike in top condition used to be a way to escape.

Regrets - a chance encounter only makes trying to get over him that much harder.

Stopwatch - the same day seems to be happening over and over.

Recovery** - he isn’t going to let you slip through his fingers again.

Leg Day** -  damn, but he looks good after a workout

Aches and Pains** - Din forgot to stretch, and he’s been suffering from DOMS all day.

Post Workout Meal** - Din he needs to replenish the calories he lost after cycling.

Drabbles, Thoughts and Headcanons

The Towel

The Dresses**

Lazy Morning

Morning Text**

Din and Jealousy (established relationship)

Zoom**

[djarinsbeskar]

What if the teacher in the cyclist!Din universe has to join a meeting over zoom and Din decides to eat her pussy under the desk 👁️👄👁️

Points have been made and the only conclusion I can come to is that yes nonnie-- Cyclist would 100% without a doubt eat you out while on a Zoom meeting because you decided to do workwear on top and loungewear on bottom-- easy access and all. He needs his post workout meal after a hard cycle, and he's not about to wait to get it. You gotta eat within the first thirty minutes after a workout after all, who is he to go against science?

The bulk of his shoulders would spread your thighs wide as they rest over those powerful muscles, his messy mop of waves half hidden beneath the hem of the flowy blouse you wore for this Zoom meeting about coming back to the daycare now that things have started opening again.

Opening is right. As fucking open as your swollen lips are under his fingers and tongue.

You bite the inside of your cheek, hard, when his lips move up over your clit to suck the hooded little bud into his molten mouth, tongue circling it—avoiding touching it completely before he catches you off guard with a sudden flick, a harsh suck that has you slamming yourself on mute as a moan bubbles in the back of your throat.

You should’ve known better than to leave those flimsy sleep shorts on when you got changed this morning. But wanted to be comfortable, and no one on the call would see past the pretty lace trim of your shirt anyway.

But Din had.

The minute he walked in after his morning ride, sweaty and ravenous—searching the house since you weren’t in the kitchen where he usually found you at this time – you knew he was up to mischief. The way his eyes slowly ran down your figure, stopping on the bare length of your legs and the supple curves he liked to grab and bite and kiss.

You should’ve known.

But here you were now, spine ramrod straight as you try to stop yourself from wriggling, your hips aching to rock against his face as he slides two fingers into your soaked cunt with a resounding squelch, the sound absolutely vulgar when you try to cover it with a “y-yes absolutely, I'll make sure everything is ready for Monday---”

His groans are muffled against your folds, his tongue lapping eagerly to catch every drop of your arousal as it steadily pulses out of you, his fingers dragging strings of it out of you to messy his face, your thighs, the fucking chair beneath you.

You try to mask your whimper with a cough, inadvertently drawing attention to yourself on the call where your boss asks worriedly, “you don’t have any symptoms, do you?”

He fucking grins against you - you can feel it, the bastard - pumping his fingers faster, grazing his teeth over your clit and sending spasms of pleasure across your skin,

“You look flushed, maybe you shouldn’t come in---” there was a murmur of agreement coming from the computer while you shifted, your hips rolling into the thrusts of his fingers helplessly.

“N-no I’m okay! More than okay—I’m—” you sound breathless, even to yourself as your hips shift, opening your legs wider for him as he drags you closer and closer to the edge, his growls of approval lifting from beneath the table as a fresh wave of slick coats his hand and face when you’re certain you’re about to be caught.

You don’t stay for the end of the meeting, leaving it with seconds to spare as you cried out—your orgasm ripping from you as violently as his fingers pounding into you. Your thighs are shaking, trembling as they hang over his shoulders and you’re certain how tightly your gripping his hair is hurting him.

But he only purrs, languidly drinking up your release with broad strokes of his tongue between your folds, thick fingers still lazily pumping in and out of you—reveling in the spasms of your walls still clamping down around him.

“Din---” you sigh, chest heaving and a flush darkening your chest and cheeks when he looks up your body at you.

You try to scowl, but those smoldering dark eyes—the quirk of his lips into a lopsided smirk while they shone with the evidence of your release had you dragging him up your body instead, lips clashing furiously—his tongue dragging along your lips before pressing into your mouth where he shares the taste of your release with you eagerly.

“You’re incorrigible,” you scold him, cupping his cheeks while his nose nuzzles into your temple,

“Just tell them your internet is shit and it kicked you off the call,” he quipped, the rumbling timbre of his voice sending pleasurable sparks directly between your legs once more, as if you hadn’t just cum all over his face while on a work call.

Your laugh is both disbelieving and mirthful, eyes shining with amusement when he captures our lips once more, the heavy weight of his cock pressing into your stomach telling you the ‘internet’ was likely to remain shit for the rest of the morning at least.

Hot, open mouth kisses are pressed along your jaw and neck, a large hand setting under the swell of your breast temptingly before he whispers,

“C’mon angel, you’ll be back in the school soon enough— let’s make the most of working from home.”

[djarinsbeskar]

So I was thinking about the cyclist!Din AU today and the two of them, perhaps later on in their relationship, spending a lazy morning in bed (or once Din and Grogu returned from their ride). Maybe Grogu is settled on Din's chest, entertained by Din wiggling his fingers in front of his face but pulling them back just before he can grab them, causing Grogu to giggle and the two of them to smile. Maybe Din has his other arm wrapped around her while she's tucked into his side and they intermittently kiss whatever body parts they can reach (the top of her head, Din's shoulder?) , occasionally stretching to share a proper kiss. Basically I was thinking of a morning filled with love and soft kisses 🥺

(This isn't a request or anything, I just wanted to share my thoughts! 😅)

Cass---

When I tell you this thought breathed new life into me and has single-handedly stayed on my mind since you sent it. I am MELTING at the thought of this and I know it wasn’t a request, but I simply couldn’t help myself delving a little more into this slice of heaven:

Stormy Sunday mornings meant two things that rarely – if ever – occurred at once; no work, and a guilt-free excuse not to go out cycling for once.

You had only let him leave the bed after a series of slow kisses and tender sleepy caresses over exposed skin. A promise to return as soon as he checked on Grogu whispered against your lips—resulting in him returning with the bouncy rug-rat soon after for morning cuddles neither of you could resist. Din settled back against the pillows, his son sitting up happily on his abdomen with his fathers protective hand held gently behind his back—babies lost their balance a lot, he discovered, leading to an overexaggerated baby-proofing of his entire house.

Once you had pulled on his discarded shirt from the night before— the material swallowing you in its size and making his heart clench with a familiar tug of affection, you settled back against him after pressing a loving kiss to the top of Grogu’s head.

“Where’s mine?” Din’s chest rumbled beneath where you lay your cheek, basking in the solid warmth and strong embrace—his fingers tracing up and down your arm lazily, Grogu’s attention immediately turning to the movement and causing you both to laugh as he tried to catch his father’s hand.

“Mmh?” you smiled, turning your head enough to press your lips to the dip in his clavicle – a sleepy sort of laziness making you unwilling to stretch any further than you needed to, “there, happy?”

“Mm… very…” he rasped quietly, neither of you wanting to break the dreamy haze you found yourselves in. Just you, him and Grogu. Perfect.

If Din could pause life at any moment, it would be now.

His lips split on a smile when he was greeted with not only the sound of your laughter, but that of his sons as well—this little game of trying to catch Din’s fingers entertaining the two year-old to no end, small hands slapping down on his abdomen and chest excitedly when his fingers crawled away once more. The movement had tickled you, soft sounds of amusement filling his senses and he turned his head to press a kiss to the top of your head-- his lips refusing to separate from your crown as he inhaled the light scent of your shampoo until you turned your head upward.

Grogu managed to catch his father’s hand this time, a joyful babble filling the bedroom. Din’s mind distracted and reactions slow as he met your lips with his own, a rumble of approval bubbling in the back of his throat when your fingers scratched along the hair dusting his jaw. There was no expectation or desire for more – though he couldn’t say the same in another hour – and his lips moved over yours reverently, tasting you as though it was a privilege to even be given the opportunity. Making the most of every second.

You parted with a small smile, a giggle puffing on his lips when he made to chase your lips, drunk already. Those eyes you had fallen for so fast and hard, eyes that infiltrated your thoughts and dreams before you realised you never stood a chance—bore into yours now with nothing but naked love and a wonderment that was so achingly similar to his sons that you had to peck his plush lips once more.

A small gurgle pulled your eyes back down his body to where Grogu was still holding Din’s hand but was now nestling down into your side, obviously ready for his own Sunday morning lie in.

Din watched as you shifted—lifting the dozing baby up to settle more comfortably in the small dip where your body met Din’s, his small cheek nuzzling into your chest, one small fist wrapped tight around his father’s thumb.

Din muttered something - secret and special - softly against your hair, a small shake of his head all you received when you looked up at him from where you had been dozing off yourself. Either content with his response or too sleepy to ask again, you snuggled against him, the warmth of both your boys lulling you off easily.

Din himself remained awake only long enough to ingrain the image of you and his son intertwined with him—all three of you taking up a fraction of the space provided by the bed, his heart full and mind still disbelieving that this was his reality.

He smiled to himself—letting the steady rise and fall of both your breathing soothe him back to slumber once more, cocooned in a family he never let himself hope to have before.

[djarinsbeskar]

Not the new cyclist!txt tag... 👀👀👀

I can imagine Din leaving one morning for a cycle and he leaves reader in bed. Maybe he leaves a note or something to say he didn't want to wake her. She's feeling put out by this, mischievously so.

Maybe Boba suggests the group stop somewhere for some breakfast before they cycle back. Din makes the mistake of checking his phone while they order and...

Reader has left him a very naughty novel of texts to get him all worked up.

He's trying to act like he's really listening to what Boba and Fennec are saying but he's just-

The seat seems to chafe a little bit more than usual on his cycle home...

Lils----💛

You are a fountain of inspiration for our dear cyclist and honestly, y e s. I need an entire one shot on this stat. Then I remember that I gotta do the writing for it soooooo, here’s a teaser drabble! For one to come in the near future~ 😏

You were going to be the death of him.

Din hardly knew what Fen and Fett were talking to him about, the occasional buzz of his phone every so often making his skin heat and his shorts tighten under his napkin at the obvious content it contained.

Fuck.

He had left you that morning asleep in bed for his normal cycle, and somehow, Fen had managed to convince Boba to join.

Din enjoyed Boba’s company. He didn’t speak, didn’t expect Din to speak, and was content to complete a tough ride in near silence apart from an occasional exchange about work or the kid. He also liked that Boba seemed fairly generous when riding the adrenaline high, inviting him and Fen out for breakfast thereafter.

It had been a good idea, right up until he found out how horny you were. Usually, by now he would be home, back in bed with you as was expected for a Saturday morning.

But you had woken up without him and it was obviously a day you’d normally turn over to straddle him, kiss him good morning and fuck him to prove it.

He had only seen the notification of one message, and it had been enough to stir his arousal.

[ ✉️ -> Helmet Head💕] I’m so wet, baby---

Fuck, he could just see you. Spread out on that massive bed, white cotton sheets tangled beneath your body and your head thrown back on the thick, fluffy pillows. Eyes still sleepy but hooded with arousal as you rubbed your thighs together, attempted to gain some friction on your throbbing clit—one that was better alleviated with his tongue and cock.

The next text was an image and he just about lost it. He didn’t dare open it—he was already hard as a rock, in cycle shorts. He wasn’t about to add to the torture. But the mystery seemed to be just as terrible as the confirmation of what the image might be. His mind ran away from him with thoughts of your body, your nipples pebbled and thighs slick—the marks he left on your soft skin and the flush of shyness he knew would show itself as you dared to take a risky picture.

“Well?”

Din blinked owlishly, brought back to the restaurant and to his colleagues sat in front of him. He felt himself flush at the knowing side-eyed look the two shared before Boba waved off the waiter standing by their table patiently,

“He won’t be having anything.”

Din frowned and made to open his mouth before the older man beat him to it with an arched brow,

“Get home to your girl before you faint from lack of blood to the brain.”

What the hell was he supposed to say to that?

“I—”

“See you at the station, Djarin.”

Din snorted then, the glint of amusement in Boba’s eyes as he took a swing of his coffee was enough to tickle the younger mans humour and he tossed his napkin onto the table,

“Duty calls,” he admitted with a chuckle.

And with that made a quick exit to his bicycle locked outside the café and made it home in record time to deal with your cheek himself.

“No wonder she’s calling him home,” Fen snickered after Din had bolted from the restaurant.

“What?” Boba grizzled, eyeing the plates of food leaving the kitchen to see which was theirs, taking another gulp of black coffee.

“Din’s packing, I’d never want that out of my sight either if I were her.” she commented lightly.

Boba choked on his gulp, and Fen’s laughter filled the entire restaurant.