Of Constellations & Creeds
Chapter 24: Bruises and Broken Things
Pairing: Din Djarin x F!reader (Alpha/Omega/soulmates AU) Wordcount: 4.2k Warnings/Promises: (18+ only!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!) smut, talk of bruises and injuries, ABO elements, possessive Din, dirty talk Summary: Din helps patch up your wounds, and you both talk about what he said to Toro. A/N: it’s britney, bitch.
S E R I E S - M A S T E R L I S T
Peli had made good on her word and the Razor Crest was fully operational. It hummed smoothly as Din powered up the engine and took you both into the expanse of hyperspace where you would be invisible for a while to collect yourselves and plan a new course of action.
The bounty hunter had snuck away to put the child down in his pram. It had been a long day and the kid was starting to fight sleep. His fussing consisted of furiously wiggling ears and clenched three-fingered fists, but once back on the crest and in the safety of what the three of you called home, he gave in.
You stood in the doorway of the refresher, the cramped closet that held a single shower stall and toilet. The smudged mirror above the sink was old and dingy but it was still able to show you the bruises on your body clear as day.
You looked like hell.
You felt like hell.
The tank top came off first, peeled away from your skin slowly as both were covered with sand and sweat. The blood from your busted lip had stained down the front of the cloth and you stopped up the sink and dunked it in cool water, hoping you had caught it in time before it ruined. You pulled out a washcloth from the solitary cabinet and started sponging off your skin. Relief flooded your chest as you slowly removed the tacky layer of tatooine and left a cool freshness in its wake. It was a start.
You wiped blood and sand off your skin one slow swipe at a time before rinsing the rag and repeating the motion. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat.
It felt as if your very sanity was hanging by a thread, as if your resolve was waiting for you to give it permission to break. You didn't want to, you preferred to stay whole. But as you looked in the mirror, you started to wonder if you had a choice.
“Got a better offer, princess.”
Fuck. Toro’s voice was still in your head as your face ached. Condescending. Cold. He spoke down to you like you were lower than he was–an Omega in her place.
With trembling fingers you started with your lips. They were discolored and puffy, a sore comparison to their normal flattering beauty. The top one was cracked, dry from the heat and lack of moisture, but the bottom one had received most of the damage. It was split down the right side, the thin skin parting easily to reveal the flesh underneath, as if someone had squeezed an overripe grape until it popped. The urge to lick it won out, and as you ran your tongue over the wound a jolt of pain traveled up your jaw. That area of your face was relatively untouched. Although if the pain was any indication of what was to come, you would have bet a large sum of credits that your jaw would match the rest of you come morning.
“Apparently both sides will pay a pretty price for an Omega these days.”
What was even more startling was your eyes. The massive bruise that hung below your orbital socket and perched on the apple of your cheek was impressive to say the least.
It was hardly your fault, yet the injuries filled you with more shame than you cared for. It hadn't been a fair fight, that much was certain. He had sucker punched you in the desert, and then again when you were tied up. Given the chance, you could beat him…maybe.
“Not sure what they want them for--dead, alive, I’m not sure it matters.”
You looked up and saw Din reflected in the mirror over your shoulder. It wasn’t long ago that when he silently stalked behind you had made you jump out of your own skin. But now, you knew when he was there. You felt him. Solid and strong. You felt the wave of calm that came over you from your shoulders to your toes whenever he came into your aura.
You gave him a small smile and he stepped into the doorway.
"Hey."
"Hi."
You rinsed the rag in the sink before squeezing it out and looking at him in the mirror. "Is the kid asleep?" The words felt out of place as you watched the blood swirl down the drain.
"Yeah," Din nodded. He reached around you and took the rag. "He's exhausted."
"That makes two of us."
“Let me.”
You relented with another nod.
He moved behind you and touched the gauze that clung to your shoulder. It was hanging on by little more than the dried blood and plasma that had erupted from the wound when Toro dug the barrel of his gun into your shoulder. Bastard.
Din wet it gently with the tip of the cloth and it peeled away with little resistance. The cloth stuck to the sinewy bits and you felt the dried pieces break.
"You could have taken him," Din said deeply as if he could read your thoughts. "Wiped the floor with him."
"You sure about that?"
"Yeah," he nodded his helmet slowly. "I am." He held the rag over your mark and let the water soften your skin. "Hand me that kit."
You did as he asked, opening the medkit from the shelf and looking for a few things. You ripped open one of the bacta-wipes with your teeth before handing it back over your shoulder. When he touched it to your skin, you jumped and he apologized quietly. It was cold but, by the goddess, it felt so good.
"Y'want more gauze?"
"No," he answered before he let the used wipe fall to the floor in a growing heap of discarded supplies. "It needs to breathe."
"Right."
"Does it hurt?"
You laughed abruptly and quickly shook your head, he had a bad habit of taking your pain personally. And if he wasn't blaming you for this turn of events then you weren't going to allow the opposite to happen either.
"If I'm being honest, my mark is the least painful thing on me right now."
"Let me see," he said, lowering his voice as if he was dealing with a wounded animal. He tugged gently at your arm and you hesitated.
"Din," you protested. "It's bad. I don't--"
"Just let me see….please."
It was the last word that did it, that made you want to do anything and everything he asked. You knew you were fighting the inevitable, the fact that he would blame himself lingered in the air of the tiny bathroom as you turned around and leaned your ass against the sink. He stared at you, blank behind the barrier of his helmet, and you crossed your arms under your breasts.
"You should see the other guy." You offered pathetically with a disenchanted laugh, but he gave you nothing.
You reached out through your bond. You let your Omega trickle down the connection between the two of you and waited for his aura to ping on the radar of your essence, but she came up short. He was shielding from you, just like he did back at the hangar when he killed Toro. You hated it. Whatever he was feeling, whatever he didn't want you to sense, couldn't be nearly as bad as being cut off from him in a time where you felt so raw.
Don’t shut me out. Not now.
Was he mad at you? Or even worse, was he disappointed? He stood there in his usual silence and you felt like twisting your feet and looking at the ground, like a child in trouble whose stoic parent was waiting for an explanation to their actions. You closed your eyes and let out a heavy sigh, this would be easier if he wasn't staring you down with that maker-forsaken helmet.
"I know what you're thinking and I'm sorry, okay?" You started defensively without pretense.
Silence.
“I didn’t listen.”
Silence.
“Or….or I was too stubborn,” your voice started to tremble.
More silence.
You closed your eyes tightly and continued. "You trusted me to handle myself and I failed. I let Toro get the drop on me and it endangered the kid and I--"
A quiet hiss came from in front of you and you cracked one eye open as he thumbed the release valve on his helmet and pulled it slowly off of his head and set it heavily on the sink.
That was your undoing.
As always, the Mandalorian, your Mandalorian, was painfully handsome. His deep brown eyes were strong, yet caring. His jaw was set firmly but not in anger, in contemplation. The lines of his brow were deep with concern as he took off his gloves and laid them on top of his helmet.
Hot tears filled the edges of your eyes before you clamped them shut again once you saw how softly he looked at you. You couldn't handle soft right now. You didn't deserve soft. Why wasn't he upset? It was almost as if you wanted him to be, as if you would know what to do with that emotion as opposed to whatever this was.
"Please, just be mad at me," you finally whispered and he raised a dark brow at you.
"No."
"Why?"
"Concerned? Yeah. Terrified? Completely." He stepped towards you and put his knuckle under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. "But not mad." You started to speak but he continued. "When I came back and saw blood on the sand, your blood, and Fennec dead and the two of you missing--"
"Din--"
He let his forehead drop against yours as he cupped your face with both of his large hands. "I thought I lost you."
You bit your lip, wincing slightly as your teeth made contact with the underlying bruises. He whispered soft apologies as if it was his fault that you were hurting. As if he had caused your pain. But it wasn’t true. Din would never hurt you. If you were being honest with yourself, you had known that from the moment you laid eyes on him–you had just been too stubborn to believe it.
It happened fast. Just like it usually did. A flurry of hands and desperation as Din tossed the medkit to the floor and the two of you stumbled up into the cockpit.
There were no words, no time for explanations or spoken desires. You needed him inside of you just as badly as he wanted to be.
The backs of your thighs brushed against the cold beskar of his leg plates and when his fingers trailed over the goosebumps on your ass, he offered to take them off.
Don’t even think about it.
He had stripped his cuirass, his pauldrons and undershirt, cloak and helmet, piled in the corner, rolling with the tilt of the ship. He had barely managed to unbutton his pants and shove his compression leggings over his cock before you were straddling his lap.
You cupped his face, that fucking handsome face, and kissed him hard, plunging your tongue passed his teeth and tasting him like it was necessary in order to breathe. His fingers dug into the skin of your shoulder blades to jerk you down, pushing deep, deep, deep, every time with the head of his dick until he felt the end of you.
Right there. Yes. Don’t stop. Wouldn’t dream of it.
Hurried whispers against each other’s mouths and sweaty brows, paired with the wet sounds of your cunt and the slap of your thighs on his were the only sounds in the dark command center of the ship. Your ship. Home.
You hunched your back, grinding down on his lap and bracing your elbows on his shoulders, gently fisting his dark curls and earning a pleasured wince out of him.
“Tell me what you said,” you huffed and he opened his eyes to look at you in question.
“What?”
“To Toro–ah, fuck,” you pushed forward, looking down on him, and he put his hand on the small of your back to help support your arch. “What did you say to him?”
Din licked his lips, a visible sign of hesitation, of nervousness as he glanced down at your tits that were in his face and still one of his favorite distractions. He gripped you as if he needed to know that his answer wouldn’t drive you away, wouldn’t make you uncomfortable. You highly doubted there was anything he could say that would make you revert back to the old days of your relationship.
“I told him–hmph–” he grunted as your walls squeezed him hard. You were close. He looked up at you and gripped two large handfuls of your ass, pulling your chest flush against his and slowing his thrusts, taking over completely and watching as each movement jolted your body against his, making you whimper. “I told him he shouldn’t have touched what was mine.”
Your eyes widened slightly as he gruffly confessed and waited patiently for your reaction. He knew you weren’t a prize, you were not an object or a thing. An Omega to rest quietly in his trophy case and glitter for all the other Alphas to fawn over, to covet, to spark jealousy.
And yet.
You were his. In every sense of the word. You had allowed him to break down your walls, to form a bond that you vowed you would never want. You wore his mark, bloody and new, through your mutilated constellation that was once your sole identity, now covered…with him.
“What is yours…” you pondered the words, tested the feel of them inside your mouth, dragging your thumb across his bottom lip as you cupped his face.
“Yeah…” he whispered, pausing his thrusts to turn his head to kiss your palm, breaking the intensity of your gaze.
“Yours.” You repeated it more firmly.
A single word. A complete and finished thought. And it made him look back at you with a flicker of hope. Understanding and determination.
“Mine.” He confirmed with a growl, leaning up and claiming your mouth, gripping the back of your neck in his large hand.
Widening his feet, he braced his knees and clutched your body as he stood up. You let out a soft yelp against his mouth, clenching your legs around his middle and gaining a better grip around his shoulders as he took a few steps to shove you back against the control panel of the ship.
He laid you back against the dashboard, making it easier on his back to hold the position as he moved your legs up, knees squeezing him around the ribs. He put his hand over your stomach and pressed at the same time as he started to ram against you. His cock forced its way through the tightness of your cunt as the pressure of his palm made it feel like you were going to explode.
“Just like that. Just like that,” he huffed, jerking his head to the side to toss his damp curls out of his eyes. “Right there, princess.”
You moaned at the nickname, bowing your back and making the buttons of the Crest dig into your shoulders. He had never called you that and it plucked at the already taught strings of your libido. You had been adamant about him never calling you that, and yet…coming from his lips when he was balls deep inside you was the most seductive thing you had ever heard.
You said his name. Mewled it. Practically keened it as you reached down and grabbed his wrist of the hand that was pressed to your body. An anchor. He was there. Stronger when you held him. Solid.
The metal of his belt and holster knocked against the control panel with each thrust, his thighs colliding with the backs of yours. You knew he was close. He always gripped you tighter when he was about to finish. Like you were the only thing keeping him grounded. Your cunt was an anchor in the turmoil of whatever storm he was facing that day. You could be that for him. Happily. Willingly.
You clenched your legs around him, telling him without words to stay inside of you. Don’t pull out. I want to feel you. I want to feel you.
Bunching your stomach muscles, you leaned up. With hands around the back of his neck and fingers buried in his hair, you clung to him as he pounded you into the harsh metal of the ship. You brushed your lips along the side of his face. A hot trail of saliva cooling against his heated skin as you encouraged him, spurred him on, and chased him towards his end.
“Fuckfuck–fuck!” he groaned loudly as he came and you felt him hot and heavy in your core. He dropped his head to the crook of your neck and let his arm fall around your waist, holding you securely to him, chest heaving. “I shouldn’t…fuck, I’m sorry–”
“What are you talking about?” You dipped your head to look in his eyes as you nosed his cheek up. “Why are you sorry?”
“I should have never let you get hurt,” he said gruffly and you put your hands on each side of his face and shook your head.
“No, no, absolutely not, Din…” you kissed his mouth, once, twice, reassuringly as he tightened his grip. “This is not on you.”
“But–”
“Stop.”
He gave a grunt as you pressed your lips to his again, pushing your tits flush against his body and pulling him into the tight circle of your arms. You licked your way through the kiss, sucking gently on his lips with soft pops and plush, soothing sounds. His weak groans of half-hearted protest rumbled through his chest and it made you smile.
“Keep that up and I’ll get hard again.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you teased.
“You have enough bruises,” he growled and it made you clench around his softening cock.
“But these are good bruises. I like these bruises–”
He said your name. A warning against your teases before he dipped his head and captured your lips again. You squeaked against him and let your ass fall back on a series of buttons that turned on the ship’s exterior lights before making them flicker off. Another button under your ass caused one of the shutters to close halfway before Din stopped it by hitting a different button. He laughed against your mouth. Deep and sweet.
"Oops."
"At least it wasn't one of the blaster canons."
"Well that's what you get for fucking me on the control panel like an animal," you teased as you held his face and looked into his gentle eyes.
"I would never do that," he exhaled against your lips. "I fuck you like an Omega. Like a queen."
"Oh..mhmm."
You melted back against him as his cock slipped from between your legs, causing his spend to slide down your thigh. Imagining the image made you clench your legs around his waist.
It took a lot of convincing, but the both of you managed to pry yourselves apart. Slipping down onto the floor among the pile of forgotten clothes.
Blue light from the stars glittered softly off the metal of the ship. The vast black of space didn't seem so imposing within the safety of the Crest. It just was. Another aspect that contributed to what was beginning to feel a lot like home.
Din rucked his pants back up over his ass, letting his belt hang as you found your underwear and fell onto his chest with a sigh. He leaned his back against the wall, jerking your entire body against his chest and with a grin, settling your between his thighs. Another smile. Another soft kiss to the temple.
“We have a bed, you know,” you offered with a contented sigh, tucking your head under his chin.
“I know,” he agreed, nosing along your hairline and dragging his cloak over your body for warmth. “Just…I just want a minute.”
"We need a bigger bed," you teased and he pinched the flesh at your hip.
"We need a lot of things."
"You think so?"
He was quiet. Contemplating. It seemed a regular occurrence that when things drifted towards an uneasy topic, the Mandalorian grew quiet. Then again, he was only talkative around you. And even that was a recent adaptation.
You glanced at him over your shoulder. Up at his carefully blank face, closed eyes, faint smile lines around his eyes and the apples of his cheeks.
What did he think you needed? Did he think you were unhappy on the ship? With him? That anything about your current situation had left you wanting?
You touched his jaw with the backs of your fingers. Dragging them gently over the sparse hair of his beard, paying close attention to the patch of grey that was starting to develop among the black--handsome, distinguished, experienced.
"Din?"
"Mmm?"
You dropped your hand putting it under his cloak for warmth. Once again settling back against his chest, looking up at the stars. Your teeth picked at the brittle skin of your lip, raw and bleeding, and his arm came down tightly around you--supportive, protecting. Your walls were down, your uncertainty bleeding all over the cockpit.
"What was he talking about?" You asked vaguely.
"Who?"
You swallowed hard and continued to assault your battered lip. The Mandalorian's large hand came up and gently grasped your jaw to stop you.
"Quit. Let it heal," he rumbled softly. "Now, who are you talking about?"
You let out a heavy sigh. "Toro." You took his hand in your own and instead occupied yourself with intertwining each of your fingers. "Back on Tatooine. About a bounty on an Omega."
"What did he say to you?"
"He said that 'both sides' would pay a high price for an Omega. Dead or alive, it didn't matter--"
"He was probably just talking out of his ass--"
"No," you said with a firm shake of your head. "Don't do that to me. Don't try to make it out to be less than it is. Both sides of what? What was he talking about?"
Din opened his eyes then and looked down at you. Another blank expression.
You tried to feel his aura. Reaching out through your bond you search for truth, for his Alpha, for something that would let you know if he was being honest.
Where you expected a brick wall, you were instead met with a gateway. The open arms of the essence that made up his Alpha was there to greet your wondering Omega as she tread cautiously towards him. He was being honest. Goosebumps traveled down your spine as his trepidation washed over you. Honesty. Curiosity. And….
Fear.
"You don't know."
It wasn't a question.
You turned slowly until you were almost sitting sideways in his lap. It wasn't as comfortable as before, but it allowed you to look at his face.
Living behind a helmet for the majority of his life had made his facial expression unnaturally unpredictable. It usually made you smile, giggle, bite your lip in an effort not to embarrass him for the fact that he wore his heart on his face. But this time was different. His jaw was clenched, which freed up his hands to remain open and soft as they held you.
"No," he started simply with a small headshake. "I don't know what he was talking about." He pulled you more firmly onto his lap. "I haven't had contact with the Guild since we kept the kid and stuck it to Karga."
"Do you really think someone is hunting Omegas?" You asked carefully, willing the fear out of your voice.
"Anything's possible."
"Why would they do that?"
"I'm not sure." He leaned his forehead down against your temple and it made your shoulders relax. "You're safe with me. You and the kid."
"I know."
"I got an old contact that might know what's going on. We can go ask him." Din leaned his head back to gently bump against the wall of the ship. "Plus, he has a job for me and we could use the credits."
"A job for you?"
"Don't worry," he said with a grin as he kept his eyes closed. "You're coming."
You nearly punched his chest but refrained. The question had been laced with accusation before he had even had a chance to defend himself. It wasn't a secret how you felt about being left behind.
"Can you trust him?" You asked, putting your hand back in his chest and tracing one of his old scars.
"I don't trust anyone who isn't you," he answered gruffly and it made you smile again.
--
Hey guys, as always there is always room on the tag lists! That being said there are about 300+ of you that want to be tagged in this fic and that is totally cool, but I am human and I miss names and forget tags, SO–if your tag didn’t work, I forgot it, or you want to be moved to another group, please message me or send me an ask. Even if you have already sent me one reminding me, I PROMISE it was not on purpose. A lot of times I wont answer until I have PHYSICALLY put you on the tag list that way I don’t forget! Thank you so much. - K
Tag lists will come later. Drop me some comments and reblogs if you liked it and want more!
