Title:Stepwise Pairing:Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating:E, 18+ Word Count:5.1k Warnings:explicit smut (fingering, blowjob, unprotected p-in-v, cum eating, cum play, mention of ass play), touch-starved Din, possessive Din, somewhat inexperienced Din, soft feelings, references to canon-typical violence Summary: Requests for both soft and smutty touch-starved head canons spiraled out of control and became this.
Din Djarin knows some touch.
He’s versed in violent touch, in touch made heavy by duty. He’s comfortable with the tangled chaos of hand-to-hand combat, the brutal embrace of wrestling a quarry to the ground, the dead weight of a body slung over his shoulder, the strange intimacy of towing someone by their bound wrists from the moment of capture all the way to the carbonite chamber.
This is so perfect. Incoherent screaming under cut
[inhales] AAAAAAHAHAAAAaaah. This is so good. How do you write him so perfectly you wizard - this is really our mans. The way you describe his swings from vulnerable and soft to desperate and starving - this is the way seriously I got goosebumps. The flashbacks to his childhood! Also kudos for the patient, empathetic reader. love love love this. Thank you for sharing your masterpieces with us.
Excerpt:“You’d thought about the Mandalorian in that way a couple of times. In the quiet of hyperspace or dark nights on deserted moons, the idea of… Propositioning whatever man laid beneath the beskar seemed like an okay idea. But once the stars stopped blurring through the windshield or the sun rose on your camp, those thoughts evaporated like morning dew and you were left with a hollow feeling—more than a little lonely.”
Warnings: When I say 18+, I mean 18+. Unprotected sex (wrap it up, folx!), language, fingering, blow job, cursing, light choking, hair pulling, pretty unedited, just plan on a cold shower afterwards and probs don’t read on the work wifi.
Summary: Mando’s gone, the kids asleep, and you’re bored. And maybe feeling some other things, but you’ve never had a problem taking care of those things on your own. And just when you start thinking it’d be more fun if someone else was helping you out…
A/N:SMUT.I mean, ahem, smut. It’s all smut. Maybe a little fluff but 98% smut. Today is Pornhub’s 15th anniversary (don’t ask, shut up) and the 45th anniversary of the beginning of Star Wars so I put it all together as an excuse to get SPICY. Thank you so much to @creatively-analyticaland@peetiespetals for beta-reading and giving me feedback, love you both SO MUCH. As always, love you all. Come say hi and let me know what you’d like to see!
This could not get more embarrassing…
Months you had been on this kriffing ship. Months you had chased bounties and taken care of the Child while Mando was busy doing bounty hunter things. You couldn’t be too upset about it, though, the Mandalorian paid well and that little green creature had you wrapped around his claw almost immediately.
It was just so dullsometimes.
Especially during times like this. Mando had been gone for days, you and the kid had done everything on the ship to keep yourselves entertained, and now that he was finally asleep for the night there was nothing to keep you occupied except for your own thoughts. And those thoughts… Well, they were so much more fun to have when you had special company.
But that kind of company was hard to come by when, every time you stepped into a new town, people tended to avoid the hulking metal presence at your side. How were you supposed to flirt and make new friends when the darkness of his t-shaped visor was staring them down from across the room?
You’d thought about the Mandalorian in that way a couple of times. In the quiet of hyperspace or dark nights on deserted moons, the idea of… Propositioning whatever man laid beneath the beskar seemed like an okay idea. But once the stars stopped blurring through the windshield or the sun rose on your camp, those thoughts evaporated like morning dew and you were left with a hollow feeling—more than a little lonely.
So, it usually came to this. It was your own hand helping you seek release, your own thoughts and imagination driving you through fantasies of the touch of another. At least you knew how you liked it.
Oh my God hell to the yeah! I loved this! Mando finding you and just being a little tease, then absolutely learning what you like and how to please you? I’ll have one to go, please! And did I see just a little touch of inexperienced!Mando right there? That is some of my favorite content! I would have been absolutely happy with all that BUT THEN! YOU TAKE THE HELMET OFF! AND IT’S SO INTIMATE AND HOT? But also loving in a really surprising way? I just want to go there, your Honor. I loved it all!
Warnings:Gambling, strip Sabacc, nudity, wagers on sex, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal sex
Comments: A Mandalorian sits down at your Sabacc table on Canto Bight, wanting to play for the ship you have offered up as collateral. Except you decide that you won’t play for money, you’ll play for clothes.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
ClickKeep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says ’creator chooses not to use warnings’. You also agree that you’re the right age to be consuming anything here.
It wasn’t often that you spent much time in one of the gambling dens on Canto Bight. Often the atmosphere was too much, or the table too rich, but this was interesting. When the Mandalorian had sat down at the table, several were concerned that the obvious bounty hunter had pucks on them. It was clear by the way they quickly gathered their credits and scattered to the four winds. You had been annoyed at that, seeing the potential profit you had been betting on slip through your fingers. Instead, he hadn’t got up to go after one of them or pull out a puck for anyone still seated. He pulled out a pouch of credits and tossed them down, obviously wanting to play. You raise a brow and toss down your latest hand, forfeit since so many left the table. “You’re gonna play, Mando?” You ask in disbelief.
Din tilts his helmet, glad for the visor which makes it easier for him to bluff. “I heard from others that you are betting a ship. I need one. Let’s play.” He orders, gesturing for the dealer to cut the deck. You hum, picking up your drink to take a sip, the others warily looking at each other, unsure of whether they wish to play a Mandalorian. If he loses, he could decide to kill them then and there. Once Din has his cards, he is careful to make sure they are not reflected in his visor as he eyes his hand.
A/N: Ho-boy, things have really gone off the rails! I hope you enjoy!
—
Din crashes through the crowds, his armored shoulders sending people staggering left and right. He taps the sensor on his visor and hurriedly flips through his controls until he finds footsteps. Your footsteps.
The red circles and tiny pinprick of your high heels materialize like a beacon. Locked in, he stalks after the prints glowing faintly along the polished floor. They lead up a flight of stairs, down a long and straight corridor – threading through gaming tables and chairs.
The slip under a roped off area for a VIP section – Azucar’s.
Breathing heavily, Din shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his fist curling and uncurling. One bodyguard, sensing his foreboding presence, swivels his head and eyes the Mandalorian. A few more guards turn to glare, but one curls his lip into a sneer at Din –
“Fuck off. Your whore is with Azucar tonight. He will return her later…well worn.”
Din swells with sudden, explosive rage. Roaring fills his ears, red paints his vision, and fire burns his touch.
The next thirty seconds grind to a half-time speed.
Din slowly engages the Darksaber. The blade slides out on command, crackling and snapping with power. Din shudders as the familiar, dark smoke curls up his arm and snakes through his veins.
After a quick calculation, he cocks his arm back and releases, flinging the saber high in the air. It spins through space – turning end over end and eliciting a high-pitched shriek of energy. With each rotation, the tip of the blade slices through the enormous glow globes that illuminate the corridor. The saber flies back, landing solidly in Din’s outstretched hand.
The entire floor is thrust into darkness.
The severed electrical wires pop and fizz, raining down hissing embers. Distracted, the guards stare at the ruined lights, unaware of the terror about to be unleashed.
Din stalks towards them, the Darksaber snarling with energy. Like falling stars, sparks continue to pour from above. They shimmer and sprinkle over Din, sliding down his helmet and bouncing off his pauldrons. The beskar glimmers from the light, betraying only the terrifying outline of pure violence striding forth.
Din’s grip on reality begins to slip away as his fear and anger feed the saber.
No, no…this is too much.
His last sentient thought was that he shouldn’t do this – he shouldn’t wield the saber when such fury coursed through him like liquid flame.
It was too late. He could no longer feel the saber nestled in his palm. It melted and molded, becoming one with him. His entire body was taut and thrummed with darkness.
The guards move cautiously into defensive positions, unfamiliar with the strange weapon. Din winds his right arm back low and to the side and releases. This time, the saber spins flat on its side, rotating like the rings of a planet. The saber crackles as is churns through the startled guards, gliding in a wide arc before spinning back faithfully to its owner.
Din heaves and shakes with power, as he grips the saber tight and watches the men. He cocks his helmet…and waits.
Silently, the top half of the guard’s bodies slide off and collapse in a heap. Filling the air with the scent of burned flesh, the men’s toppled bodies lie on their sides, exposing deep red tissues and organs, seared with black smoke. The saber cut thirty men in half.
Time snaps back to full speed and all hell breaks loose.
Patrons, frozen in place watching the gruesome scene unfold, start screaming and stampeding. It was as if the entire club breathed in deep, and blew out fire. Humans and species alike start sprinting for the exits, blaster fire sprays out from every direction, and sparks ignite velvet curtains in a fiery blaze.
In seconds, Din has managed to cause complete and utter pandemonium.
Ignoring the screaming masses, Din sprints down the coordinator, leaping and jumping over the bodies. He’s racing towards the back exit where your steps disappear through.
He slams his body through the doorway and the high-altitude winds claw at him, whipping his thick black cape. The landing pad is empty, but your footprints are there, like red splotches of blood. Prints from several larger beings surround yours and disappear. He can tell they hurried you along before stuffing you into a speeder.
Din disengages the blade and lets it slide back into the hilt. He grits his teeth as the dark power slowly ebbs from his veins, leaving a metallic taste in his mouth. Shaking his head roughly, he tries to encourage the rest of it to drain out of him.
He punches his vambrance furiously and calls up your location. A little blue light appears, pulsating a steady beat. He zooms out and cocks his head, analyzing your location and locking it in. Azucar’s crew has taken you to his compound.
Fuck.
A few more terse jabs and his jet pack rumbles to life. He launches into the air moments later and disappears into the glittery night.
*****************
Talon is leaning back against the cold, durasteel exterior of his rented airship. Talon never docks Wild Karrde planet-side – too many flight manifests are bought and sold with nefarious intentions. Legs crossed casually, he checks his chronometer again and sighs. He was in the middle of a most lovely evening at his favorite pleasure hall when Mando’s frantic message arrived, demanding to meet right away.
Soon after, Talon heard from his associates what the warrior’s own evening plans had entailed. Talon’s ears pick up the faint roar of engines and watches as Mando lands with practiced ease a few feet away.
Talon regards Din’s posture warily. The man appears electrified and ready to combust. He can almost smell the fear on him. So much so, that Talon’s ownhairs on the back of his neck rise. He arches an eyebrow at Mando and greets him without preamble —
“You’re in deep shit.”
Not a question, a statement. The words bounce around Din’s hollow chest where his heart should be.
“I…yes.” Din admitted. “You heard? Already?”
Talon snorts.
“You’re joking, right? The entire planet knows what you did, and soon, the galaxy. You showed up at the biggest, most exclusive night club, cut dozens of Azucar’s men in half with the fucking Darksaber, of all things, and burned the place to the ground. You put my dramatic entrances to pure shame, Mando.”
Din winces. He had no intention of bringing such attention to himself. None. His options were extremely limited and he loathes to admit the saber took control when he should have been.
They kidnapped you. He was not in his right mind.
He grimaces at the memory of that insidious power that curled up his arm and seeped into every pore of him when the saber came to life. Under his firm grip, it became one with him. He still feels the traces of that dark, sinister power and it makes him want to scald his skin with boiling water to be rid of it.
“I had no choice Karrde. They took my riduur.They fucking took her.”
Talon pales at the implication and the pieces of the puzzle fall in place. That is why Mando lashed out the way he did and nearly razed a building. Azucar took his woman. His wife.
Well, well, Talon muses with dark humor. We are just going to have to kill a lot of fucking people. He levies a serious gaze at Mando.
“I take it you need my help?”
“I’m calling in that favor.”
Talon huffs a laugh. He always knew that Mando would call in that favor one day, and he never doubted it would be a big ask. Rescuing you from the grips of galaxy’s slimiest, most feared drug dealer wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but fuckhe likes a challenge.
Talon was a skilled deal maker, and he knew exactly what he wanted out of this arrangement. He knew it as soon as he heard that a certain, shiny Mandalorian revealed he had possession of the saber for all the galaxy to see.
“I will help you. Under one condition.”
Din sighs in exasperation. Fucking smuggler, of course he’s going to wring something out of him over this. He grinds his teeth and seethes—
“I don’t have time for this bullshit…and you owe me Karrde.”
Talon waves a hand impatiently.
“You’re calling in a favor that’s going to likely get us both killed. I don’t think you are in a position to negotiate.”
Din pauldrons sag a bit.
“Fine. Tell me what you want.”
“I will help get your woman back, if you make me your hand.”
“My what?”
“Hand of the King, Mando.” Talon rolls his eyes and pushes off the stone wall. Sauntering towards Din, he slides his hands into his pockets and explains.
“You are the Mand’alor now. King and sole leader of the Mandalorian people. And every King needs a hand. Appoint me as yours. You need someone like me to deal with the politics you despise so much. And frankly, I’m better at that shit than you are.”
Din groans loudly, rolling his helmet around before letting his gaze settle on the ground.
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.
He does not want to be Mand’alor. He wasn’t trying to make a grand statement at the club. He merely did what he always does. He assesses a situation, uses the tools he has on hand, and reacts. He had no idea that the fight would come across as him declaring himself leader of his people.
Bo-Katan was going to hear of this and challenge him, along with every other tin can calling themselves a Mandalorian.
Din swallows thickly and tries to quell the rising dread in his belly.
“I’m not fit. I’m not worthy of such a title…and I don’t wantit.”
Din makes a silent vow to rid himself of the Darksaber. As soon as he gets you back, he’ll find a way to dispose of it for good. Be rid of this nonsense so he can find a way to live out his life quietly with you.
Talon looks at Din solemnly, sadly. The man still doesn’t understand the enormity of the situation.
“A great man doesn’t seek to lead Mando…he’s called to it.”
The two men regard each other as the words settle heavily between them. The weight of the choice is unbearable, pressing on his chestplate and constricting his throat. For whatever reason, Karrde believes the Darksaber has chosen him.
Him,of all people. A nothing, a nobody.
A child whose parents were murdered. An orphan raised by a strict, orthodox tribe. A founding whose standing in society was so low, no clan would claim him. A man, who had resigned himself to a life of bounty hunting until he was too old to fight or too tired to live.
Maybe…he was destined to do more, to bemore.
Din clenches and flexes his fist unconsciously, taking stock of all the reasons why this is a terrible idea. Before he can think too much longer, he speaks.
“Alright.”
Talon blazes with delight and nods at him.
“Alight indeed.” Talon places a heavy arm on Din’s shoulder in a show of reassurance.
“Let’s go get our Queen back.”
Turning on his heel, Talon beckons Din to follow with a jerk of his head.
“Where we are going?” Din asks impatiently. “We don’t have time to mull this over food and wine, Karrde. We need to make a plan, now.”
“Theplanis we are going to kill a lot of fucking people. And if we are doing that, then we need to be dressed for the occasion. It’s time to visit my tailor.”
*****************
Talon’s tailor was not justa tailor. Catering to the upper echelons of society, his clothing atelier was operational, but the business was just a front. The tailor, a small unassuming man with a forgettable face, admitted Talon and Din at once.
He ushered the men through a series of backrooms, hidden airlocks doors, and finally a passcode-only elevator to the bowls of the building. There, the tailor opened another encrypted door and revealed the storage room inside.
It was a catalog of death. Metal and glass cabinets lined the walls in an open, angular room. Rows upon rows of blasters and sonic pistols in every shape and size perched on hooks or shelves. Larger weapons –pulse rifles and slug throwers, hung in long cases along the back. Nerve disruptors, hand-held sonic blasters, and paralyzer discs stood in rows of neatly stacked metal cases on casters.
Talon poured over the weapons as if they were precious jewels. He selected and purchased a few and strapped them on while Din silently inspected the various blades. His hand unconsciously went to the saber, fingers brushing the hilt. It hummed at his touch.
Hundreds, if not thousands of weapons were stored here, yet he possessed the most lethal of all. When Talon was finished, the tailor led them back upstairs and to Din’s extreme reluctance, changed attire.
Din turns to regard himself in the mirror while Talon shrugs on a robe.
Black, knee-high boots polished to a glossy shine give way to thick, ebony wool pants that cling to the firm muscles of his legs. Leather thigh holsters hold his vibroblade and blaster. The modest hilt of the saber hangs from his belt.
The midnight wool jacket lays flat and smooth at the shoulders and taper inward – the cut setting off his trim torso. His vambrances are strapped tight over the material and glint in the warm light. The stiff, upright collar hugs the muscles of his tanned throat.
Din stares in the mirror, and the helmetless face of the Mand’alor stares back. He has never worn such finery before and his own appearance stuns him for a moment.
Karrde had insisted on no beskar for two reasons. First, Azucar knew you had a Mandalorian bodyguard, so a disguise was needed to break in. Second, Karrde had decided that the beskar was prohibiting him from using the full power of the Darksaber.
His eyes shift over to Talon’s reflection in the mirror.
Talon is equally outfitted in his own striking attire. A cream tunic, wrapped and crossed around his broad chest, peaks out from a floor-length cognac robe. The generous sleeves hide the obscene number of weapons strapped in tan leather holsters to his body.
Talon is stroking his goatee and regards Din with quiet reverence. He swallows once and speaks—
“Now,there’s a king.”
Din glances down and adjusts the wrists of this black gloves, tightening them with a flick and a snap.
“This is a really fucking stupid idea” he says tightly.
“Yes” Karrde agrees.
“We’re probably going to die.”
“Probably” Karrde replies mildly back. He steps closer to Din, his eyes glittering with excitement.
“But we are going to look damn fine doing so.”
*****************
The ride to Azucar’s compound stretched for an eternity like a nightmare you could not wake from. Terror gripped your senses every second that passed by and dragged your further away from Din. No one spoke to you the entire ride there –the only sounds were the rumble of the speeder’s engine and the pounding of your heart.
Rough hands gripped your upper arm as the guards escorted you inside the compound.
Don’t panic, stay calm. Din will come for me. You unconsciously rub the raised, shell-shaped tracking device on your vambrance.
Your breath quickens when you pass through the massive front gates. Inside, you find a towering, two story entryway, with a matching pair of grand staircases pouring from the second floor. An enormous, crystal chandelier hangs over the space, dripping ice and fire. Dazed, you take in the opulent surroundings and try and think of what Din would do in your position.
He would take in as much information as he could. He would immediately find ways of escaping or note weakness in his enemies.
Keeping your head low, you try to absorb as many details as you can without being obvious. There are guards everywhere, you note with dismay. Men holding large blasters and rifles stationed by every grand window and door. Little surprise, running a billion-credit drug business requires high levels of security.
Music and laugher trickle in from the side corridor on the first floor. He must entertain guests and business partners here. The guard gripping your arm pulls you over so he can speak with another by the foot of the stairs. The rest of the group peels off in different directions, presumably back to their stations.
“Azucar brought this one home. Where should I put her?” he asks, his voice gruff and indifferent.
The guard by the stairs looks up and down your body, lingering on the deep plunge of your dress and the waist-high slit. You internally recoil at how he leisurely undresses you with his eyes. You set your jaw and resist shrinking from his tasteless gaze.
If you show any hints of weakness or fear, they may suspect something is amiss. You try for a bored expression and pretend to study the grand entryway.
After an uncomfortable length of time, the guard finally answers.
“Take her upstairs, to one of the empty rooms. I’m sure our guests will enjoy her talents later on tonight.”
A shiver of fear spider walks down your spine as the guard nods and guides you upstairs. Your mantra to not panic falters when you realize how much time you need to buy yourself until Din comes for you.
You stretch and circle your wrists, finding comfort in the weight of the silver cuffs as you follow the guard upstairs. Din has your location, you remind yourself.
How long will it take him to break in? A few hours? All night?
You pale, your hands go clammy at the thought of having to survive an entire night pretending to be an escort…without actually being an escort.
At the top of the stairs, the guard turns down a long corridor lined with closed doors. Sounds of moaning snake out and settle on you with greasy unease. Finally, the guard stops at the last room on the right and depresses a panel for the door to slide open with a small hiss. He motions for you to walk inside and you go obediently.
It takes a herculean effort to not bolt. You whirl around, wanting to ask the guard how long you’ll be held here, but he closes the door and locks it.
You stand there and take in the furnishings of the room. There are plush, oversized chairs and couches, a large bed and a chaise. All luxurious and clearly designed with nothing but pleasure in mind.
Fuckthat shit.
I’m not a whore. I am rebel alliance solider, a combat medic, and wife of a Mandalorian.
You take a deep breath and steel yourself. Din may come in time, but you cannot rely on him. He can’t be there every second of every day to protect you.
He does not have to be. You are smart and resourceful, and you can protect yourself when the time comes for it.
That time is now.
*****************
“Remind me again why we decided this was the best way in?” Din says as he tilts his head in thinly-veiled skepticism.
Azucar’s safe house was a mammoth building whose towering floors jetted up, spearing the night sky.
“Because it’s the only way in” Karrde responds dryly as he slips his hands into his pockets.
“We are just going to walk up and knock on the front door? Then what? Introduce ourselves?” Din asks incredulously.
“Yep” Karrde quips. “We’ll give them the traditional Mandalorian greeting.”
Talon sniffs the air, drawing the city smells deep into his lungs and closes his eyes for a long moment. It might be the last moment he can savor before they embark on this truly stupid rescue plan. At least, he muses, it is a fine night to die. He gives a sidelong look to the Mandalorian.
“Ready?”
Din pauses for a moment to roll his shoulders back and adjusts the tight neck of his collar. He claps Karrde on the shoulder.
“Let’s do this.”
The two men stride forward, out into the black night.
*****************
The guard stifles a yawn, coughing a few times to cover it. His partner regards him with disdain.
Sighing, he resumes his watch over the dark landing strip ahead. Transporters in all shapes and sizes float by in a steady stream. Coruscant is alive with activity all hours of the day and night. It is an entire planet that never sleeps. Always watching, always waiting.
A transporter pulls up to the main entrance gate and a large man dressed in a floor-sweeping coat exits. With a cocky air about him, he walks right up the guards. The guard is immediately alert and places his hand on the butt of his blaster.
“Gentleman!” the stranger exclaims as he bounds up the stairs. His arms outstretched wide –“good evening!”
The guard is in no mood to deal with this man.
“State your businesses” he calls out.
“This business” Karrde cheerfully replies as he whips out his blaster and shoots the man in the chest. The other guard, flustered, jerks out his blaster to return fire, when two feet come crashing down from above.
The man falls back and hits the ground with a thud. Din takes a knee beside him and presses two fingers into the man’s neck.
“He’s alive.”
Karrde steps over the dead guard and frowns down at the crumpled, unconscious man at Din’s feet.
Karrde shoots two bolts into the man’s chest.
“Not anymore.”
Stepping over the fallen guards, Karrde and Din quickly make their way inside.
Two more guards come rushing forth and Din fires off more bolts – each man dropping to the ground. Soon, an ear-splitting alarm sounds overhead. Din checks his vambrance again, your location pulls up and pulsates like a beacon of hope.
“She’s upstairs and to the right, down the long hallway” Din shouts at Karrde. The blaring alarm makes it difficult to hear anything at all. It rattles around in Din’s head, setting his already inflamed senses alight.
Soon, they feel better than hear a rumble – a sound of countless metal boots striking the floor in a steady, nonhuman beat. Taking cover behind a huge column, Din and Talon peer out at the enormous foyer.
Battle droids, black metal armor shining like liquid night, pour from every direction. They line the upper balcony, fill the foyer, and begin descending down the stairs. Their eyes glow red, eerily silent and devoid of all purpose other than to kill.
“Coward” Din spits. Azucar did not trust his own men to dispatch of Din and Talon with honor, but sent a sack of metal and screws. The droids zero in on the men’s position and volley off hundreds of rounds of bolts at the column.
Din and Talon jerk back, eyes squeezed shut as the column absorbs the blows. Chips of stone began raining down, peppering the floor in debris. The column won’t be able to provide cover for long and the droids are steadily advancing their position.
“Mando…” Talon pants. “This is it. We can’t shoot our way out. There’s too many of them!”
Din regards Talon, his shoulders heaving. His friend, who would do anything for him, standing next to him, ready to die.
No.
“I can take them.”
Din grabs the hilt of the saber and the blade obediently slides out. White-hot pain snakes up his arm, wraps around his neck and spears into his brain stem. Din grimaces, trying to concentrate despite the unrelenting sirens and the exploding bits of rock. He turns to face Talon.
Karrde’s jaw slackens at the sight. Din’s eyes are gone. In their place are two silver orbs, sparking with bits of lightening. The delicate veins around the sockets are stained black.
Mand’alor.
“Karrde” Din says, his voice not quite steady.
Talon, startled beyond words, gives Din his full attention.
“If something happens to me, take care of her. Promise me you will.”
Talon nods his head. “I promise to protect her…with my life.”
With that, Din shoves off the column and launches himself at the droids.
“Mando, no!” Talon cries, as he lurches helplessly after his king. But, he suddenly stops short.
Speechless, Talon watches in amazement as the scene before him unfolds.
***************
You have backed yourself into the far corner of the room. Lying prong at your feet are two men, both unconscious. The first one went down easily. You struck hard and true in his carotid artery, causing his blood pressure to plummet and knock him out. The second man had fought harder, but you managed to slam your elbow into the sensitive top of his head. He too collapsed.
At this rate, you thought grimly, you could pile the men up against the door like a human blockade.
An alarm of some sort was tripped only a few minutes ago and heavy footsteps shook the floor as they rushed forth. Bewildered, you had no idea what has happening, but you suspected it was Din. Chaos seems to proceed the man wherever he goes.
Grabbing your attention, your door’s control panel starts to go haywire. Buttons begin to flicker and flash, before fading out. Smoke smelling of burnt plastic snakes in the room. Then, the door beings to reluctantly ease open.
Your heart immediately starts pounding and hot adrenaline dumps into your veins.
Damn it, I’m not in position.
You did not have time to move beside the door, so you could leverage the element of surprise. You whip the small dagger from your vambrance, cock your arm back, and snap it forward.
Ping!
“What the—?” a surprised man growls.
Din stands before you, a beskar-clad forearm protecting his face from the dagger you just threw at him.
You cry out as you dash across the room before leaping into his arms. You slam into Din hard and he grunts, taking a small step back from the force of your body. He grips you fiercely to him as you sob out in relief into his chest.
Din pulls back and cups your face between his palms. Two deep, brown pools regard you softly before he crashes his lips over yours. His kiss is full of desperate relief. Your body molds to him, trying to soothe the terror you feel in his embrace.
He breaks off the kiss and swallows thickly before asking the question he fears the most.
“Are you hurt? Did they…did anyone…?”
“No.” Swift relief washes across his face.
“They locked me in here as soon as we arrived and only these two have come so far. But, I took care of them.”
A corner of Din’s lip curls and he touches his forehead to yours. “That’s my girl” he murmurs. You chuckle a bit.
“Why aren’t you wearing your armor?” you ask.
But your question is disrupted by a soft “ahem” from behind Din.
You tear yourself away and your eyes blow wide at the sight of Talon. He leans a shoulder casually in the doorway and grins—
“Well, I don’t know about you two, but I could use a drink.”
“Talon!” you exclaim and you break free from Din throw yourself at Talon too, giving him a big kiss on the cheek. He bows his head sheepishly and you step away.
“What are you doing here?”
“Well…” starts as he brushes off an invisible speck on his sleeve. “Someone needed to make this operation look good.”
You laugh out loud and pat him on the chest while Din huffs in annoyance behind you.
“Mesh’la, we need to go” he says urgently.
“Yes, you do” an unfamiliar voice purrs.
The three of you whip around and see a group of guards crowd you all into the room. Blasters aimed and trained on all three of you.
Karrde’s hand moves to hover over the hilt of his blaster and several weapons click and whirl, the charges firing up and ready.
“Wait!” Din shouts. “Easy…”
Din gives Karrde a warning glance – don’t do anything stupid.
Din holds up his empty hands. “Easy. Look, see? No weapon. We will go with you.”
You frantically look between Din and the group as they slowly back off and walk out of the room, with the implicit demand for you all to follow.
Din snakes his hand into yours and gives you a reassuring squeeze.
“What are you doing?” you whisper, your stomach flip flopping with new dread.
“I am not risking a firefight with you around. His gaze settles on and you look at him expectantly. His features are shadowed and strained from stress. Yet, he seems calm, as if he has resigned himself to something.
That observation leaves you chilled.
*****************
The three of you are escorted through of maze of corridors and passages, moving from the more opulent, entertaining spaces of the compound to the business sectors. Rich, carpeted hallways decorated with sculptures and art give way to stark white corridors buzzing with electricity. The further you travel into the forbidden areas of Azucar’s lair, the less hope you have of escaping. You steal quick glances at Din, who is still holding your hand as you follow half a step behind him.
He must be working out some sort of plan. He never takes a job without one. Although, with a pang of guilt, you realize that you had near-bullied him into this. You were the reason they were caught in the first place.
Finally, you were stopped in front of pair of unassuming panel doors, recessed into the wall. A guard punches in a passcode and the doors hiss open where you are ushered inside.
The room is a wide semicircle, barren except for a mammoth table that sweeps up and out from the floor as if it were poured from a mold. Imbedded in the table top are dozens of screens telecasting from security cameras all over the building.
A bald man sits behind the desk, reclined in a black chair that rises up and arcs over him. His fingers are steepled and a sneer curls his lip. He stares at you with colorless eyes. The green glow from the security displays play shapes and lines across his face.
Azucar.
“What an interesting assortment of guests we have this evening.”
His voice is quiet, but harsh, like a measured drip of acid. He rises up from behind the desk smoothly, too smoothly. It becomes apparent that some sort of device assists his movement. His robes drag lightly on the floor and he floats closer. He looks more like a nobleman than a drug lord.
He tilts his head at Talon first. “You are a long way from home, smuggler. Aren’t these sort of situations the types you shrewdly avoid? Hmm?”
Talon, for once in his life, has no glib response. He is taken aback that Azucar has not only heard of him, but knows his face.
“And you” as his attention pierces your thoughts. “A combat medic for the rebel alliance turned courtesan? That is an abrupt change of profession one finds difficult to believe.” He waves at you in dismissal.
Holy hell, he knows who we are.
He glides over to stop in front of Din and he regards him with pure, animalistic joy.
“But you….were the biggest surprise of all. Din Djarin, of clan Death Watch, and now declared King of Mandalore. I knew when I put out the job for my assassination, you would come around eventually.”
Talon and Din let out a small, collective groan. This job was a trap…for Din.
“I must admit I did not expect you to do it with such flair. Burning down the esteemed Aura? Nicely done.”
What is he talking about? You frown at Din.
Azucar continues on in that unnerving, polite voice that barely hides the viciousness lurking beneath.
“You see, I see something of myself in you, Din. I have this insane need inside me. I want no one else to succeed. I want power because everyone else is weak and unworthy. That is why you acquired the Darksaber. That is why you sought out this bounty. You want power as much as I, and I can offer it to you.”
For fucks sake, not another bad-guy speech.
Din has spent a lifetime listening to these manifestos and now, on the cusp of retirement, he decides that he is done.
Din sighs loudly, cutting Azucar off sharply—
“Save your breath. You want my power? Here, take it and let us go.”
Din spins the Darksaber around and presents it hilt-first to Azucar. Azucar’s eyes flicker from Din’s face to the saber suspiciously. Azucar jerks his head to his guard in a silent command to take the saber. As the guard dutifully extends his hand out, Din drops the weapon. It clangs as it bounces to the floor.
You groan inwardly at Din’s master-level display of assholery. Din smirks and Talon tries very hard not to laugh, swallowing it down forcefully.
In a flash of anger, Azucar sneers viciously at the guard.
“Pick. It. Up.”
As the guard bends down, Din and Talon take the smallest of steps toward one another, their shoulders touching and creating a shield. It happens so quick, you hardly notice before a flash of lightening and ear-splitting noise shatter any conscious thoughts.
CRACK.
You duck and wince at the deafening noise, hands flying to your ears and squeezing your eyes shut. Straightening up cautiously, your ears buzz from the explosion and a faint smell of burnt flesh taints the air. You peer over Din and Talon’s shoulders.
There, on the floor where the guard had stood, is nothing more that black ash and smoke. The guard is gone. Incinerated down to atoms, there is nothing left of his mortal body but a small, snowy shower of pale gray ashes. They settle on the floor, circling around innocuous hilt of the dark saber.
There was oneother thing Din and Talon failed to mention to you back on that outpost moon. On the day they spent in that frozen, crusted over clearing, the men had accidentally discovered one, minor detail about the Darksaber.
No one can touch it, except Din.
Unless won justly in battle, anyone that touches the saber is incinerated. During a spar with Din, Talon happened to brush the hilt and the saber singed his arm hairs right off.
Din crosses his arms over his broad chest and quirks his head smugly at Azucar.
Finally, Talon finds his tongue and cannot help himself.
“Well, Azucar, this has been a charming evening and we enjoyed destroying a fleet of your droids and killing…” as he ticks off a few fingers…
“…about a dozen or so of your men. But the hour grows late. And quite frankly, I’m bored.”
Azucar ignores Talon completely and levels an icy glare at Din.
“Either you stay and your friends can go, or all three of you can die. I have always enjoyed the power of choice. And now this one is yours.”
The men stiffen in front of you. Din gives Talon a sidelong glance and the smallest dip of his chin. Karrde’s eyes flicker over Din and he gives a pained nod back in understanding.
Din levels his gaze back to Azucar, indifference clouding his tone.
“Fine. But I’ll never be your slave, Azucar. Never.”
Your breath dies in your throat.
Azucar’s lip curls—“only time will tell.”
Azucar rotates and crosses the room in a slow hover, back to his chair. As he gently sits down, he gives a final order to his men.
“Take him to the interrogation cell. See how long he lasts before changing his mind.”
The men step towards Din and he doesn’t fight them. Din leans over and swiftly grabs the Darksaber before clipping it back to his belt. He offers his hands to the guards and they harshly yank them behind his back, snapping on a pair of binders. He slowly turns around to face you and Talon.
Your heart cracks open.
“NO!” you scream and you launch yourself at Din. Talon is one beat ahead of you, however. His arms lock around your waist and yanks you forcibly back.
Din’s heavy eyes find yours. Two pools of sorrow stare back, apologetic as the full weight of what he has done slams into you.
“NO NO NO!”
This cannot be happening. Blind terror floods your veins and you thrash at Talon to no avail. His grip on you is ironclad.
“We need to go, NOW” Talon hisses, but you cannot hear anything over the roar in your ears. You kick and claw, screaming at him to let you go.
Din watches the horrifying scene with anguish. His whole body shakes as he watches Talon struggle to pull you away. Talon whips you around and starts dragging you through the enormous doors.
“STOP! NO!”
Sobs wrack your chest as you plead and scream at Din, desperate to reach him—
“NO! Please No!”
Talon ignores you and sweeps you off your feet, gripping you fiercely to his chest. You are too small and he is too big to fight off. Through tightly clenched teeth, he grits out—
“Stop.We have to leave!”
You twist your head around and desperately look at Din. You reach your hand out to him as you watch the foreboding doors begin to slide shut.
“DIN! PLEASE! YOU DON’T HAVE TO DO THIS!” your cry at him, tears spilling down your face. The last thing you see before the doors close are him mouthing the words—
I love you.
“NOOO!” you cry in agony and the doors clang together with a boom. The sound reverberates off the walls and its hideous finality slaps you across the face.
You turn to Talon and start screaming at him, your words coming out choked and barely discernable.
“GET HIM BACK! WE CAN’T…LEAVE HIM…HERE!”
Talon grunts at you and he’s running down the long dark corridor now. At the end is a pair of hydraulic doors and Talon hurriedly punches the release button and the doors snap back with a hiss. The howling wind blindsides you as Talon sets you down and starts striding down the narrow airbridge.
Momentarily stunned, you realize just how high up you are. Gigantic buildings push up through the clouds like silver spears as far as you can see – structures that are hundredsof stories high. Tiny airbridges and landing pads sprout out from the sides of the buildings like branches off a tree.
You look past Talon and see Pathfinder parked on the landing pad straight ahead. The ramp is already lowering and engines firing up.
Talon notices that you aren’t following behind him and stops, whirls around and stomps towards you. His face was black with anger. He barks impatiently at you.
“MOVE. We need to get out here, NOW.”
You glare at him.
“NO. He’s going to DIE in there Talon. We can’t just leave him here!”
Talon scowls as he grips your upper arm, preparing to drag you to the ship.
“You think I don’t knowthat?”
You wrench your arm out his grip and turn to run. You don’t care. You don’t care about any of it. All you see is how they will throw Din in a cell, torture him until he dies because he will never, eversubmit.
And you will die too, alongside him. Because you know you cannot go on without him. If there is no Din, then there is no you. You are bound to him for all of eternity, and wherever he goes, you will follow.
Talon has other plans, however. He snatches you back and with surprising strength, tosses you over his shoulder and stalks up the ships ramp.
You wriggle and kick but it’s no use. Talon dumps you into a co-pilot’s seat and places two thick, muscular arms on either side of the armrests, caging you in. He leans down and shoves his face right in yours, glaring hard.
“Don’t you fucking move from this spot. I swore an oath to my king that I’d protect you and keep you safe. I’ll be damned if you break it by doing something stupid.”
Stunned, you stare at him with wide eyes. Talon moves away to the ship’s console and starts flicking switches and pressing buttons with urgency. It takes less than sixty seconds for the repulsorlifts to fire and you are airborne. The sudden rise in atmosphere causes your stomach to plummet and your heart sinks even lower in your chest.
Silent tears slide down your face as you watch the dark tower begin to fade in the distance. Further and further away Talon pilots the ship. Each second, each moment, is a dagger to your soul, gutting you from the inside out. You grip the armrests, fighting the urge to claw at your skin, your clothes, anything to expel the helpless panic straining inside your chest. The silence in the cockpit is deafening.
Talon finishes punching in the coordinates to the secret location of his ship and makes the jump to hyperspace. The fine string that was holding him together finally snaps. He slumps over the console, his face buried in his hands.
You see his shoulders shudder once, twice before you are out of your seat and swiveling his chair around to face you.
Talon’s face falls, crumpling into unimaginable pain. Silently, you wrap your arms around him and his arms snap up to circle your waist, burying his face into your stomach.
Great, big shoulders heave as Talon manages to gasp out—
“I failed him. I…” and he chokes back a sob. “I failed him. My king, my partner…my friend.”
Fresh pain wrenches your heart –his grief and sorrow is too much for you to bear. Tears spill from your burning eyes and you shake, Talon’s strong arms around you is the only thing holding you up. Great sobs rack you both, as you cling to each other, devastated for the man you both love.
The seconds drag by before you can manage to speak in a small, broken whisper.
“There has to be something we can do. I can’t accept standing by and doing nothing. He would never give up on us. We can’t give up on him.”
Talon pulls from your arms, head angled back to look hopelessly at his queen that will soon be a widow.
“Azucar has an army and we don’t. We have nothing.”
An army…The memory unfolds clearly before you.
Din holding you in his arms, swirling you around in the cool mountain lake while he explains the six actions central to all Mandalorians. Tenets that cross all houses and clans and bind them together. The Resol’nare—
Rally to the cause when called by the Mand’alor… he had said.
“Talon…” you croak. “We have an army too. Call them.”
Talon’s face twists in confusion.
“Callwho?”
“The Mandalorians” you say quietly.
“Tell them their Mand’alorcommands them. They will come.”
The view is breathtaking. You are standing close enough to the glass cockpit shield that your breath fogs the surface. You cannot tear your eyes from the twinkling, vast expanse of endless city before you.
Coruscant.
The city-covered planet. You have heard of it of course, but never thought you’d live long enough to see the famed capital of the galaxy. Historians argued that Coruscant is the original home world of humanity.
Din moves to stand behind you, arms crossed over his chest. He’s fully outfitted in his armor and you doubt you’ll see him without it for the entirety of your visit.
“Incredible, isn’t it?” His voice cracks cold through the modulator.
“Amazing” you agree. “How many beings live here?”
“Trillions. I think that’s why Azucar hides out here. Easy to vanish amongst so many. It’s also the financial hub of the galaxy. He likely has no trouble finding dirty banks to launder his money while regulators are paid to look the other way.”
Coruscant is also smack in the middle of several major trade routes, enabling the drug pin to ship off and distribute spice all over the galaxy.
Your eyes sweep over the cityscape, taking in the towering skyscrapers. Buildings hundreds, or perhaps thousands of stories scrape the atmosphere. Floating ships and transporters of all sizes and models speed amongst them – darting in and around, following a hidden skyway of complex routes.
You angle your head down, trying to see the ground, but it is nothing but a black abyss. Stretching out endlessly, the twinkling lights of the structures are swallowed by smoky darkness. Looking back up, the buildings are backlit by a silver-blue glow from the enormous moon. The glowing crescent slices the sky in half.
You shiver, stepping back from the atmospheric glass. There is something unnerving about being perched so high and unable to see the ground. It’s the dead of night and Din found a small, short-term dock to park for the next day or two. The landing pad extends straight out the side of an impossibly tall and slim skyscraper. You can feel the gentle sway of the building as the high altitudinal winds push and pull the structure.
The late arrival meant you two had to drag yourselves from the comfort of Din’s cot to prepare for landing. A yawn overtakes you and you fist your hands in your eye sockets, trying to rub the sleep away.
“Let’s go back to bed. We can catch a few hours of sleep before morning” Din says.
He places a hand on the small of your back and guides you back to his captain’s quarters.
You flop down on the cot and Din climbs in behind you. You hiss and stiffen when the cold beskar touches you.
“Sorry” Din mumbles, dragging the blanket over you to protect you from his armor.
“I don’t know how you sleep in that” you murmur. Din huffs a small laugh.
“It feels better on than off.”
You have forgotten that walking around helmetless and armor-less is still new to Din. You have noticed that when the armor is on, he’s calmer. Still and solid, he moves with the grace and confidence that impenetrable steel provides. Without the armor, Din always seems…shifty. Skittish and on high alert, like a prized thoroughbred. You suppose that is the price you pay for being married to a stallion.
“Do you ever get nervous before a job?” you ask tentatively.
“I used to, but not anymore.”
“How do you manage it all? All I can think about are all the things that could go wrong, all the ways that I could screw up…” you chew your lip. You feel out of depth compared to the seasoned warrior beside you.
“Years of training, years of practice, and making many, many mistakes” Din says quietly. “It’s no different than you practicing medicine. Do you get nervous before treating a patient? Do you ever doubt your skills?”
You ponder that for a moment. You haven’t felt inadequate about your skills since medical school.
“No. I don’t. But healing is in my bones. It’s my calling. But this—“ as you gesture at nothing in particular. “This feels foreign to me. I’m afraid I’m going to fail you. Fail us.”
Din hugs you tighter against himself, tucking your head into the notch between his shoulder and helmet.
“Just say the word, and we won’t go. I’ll find another way to bring Azucar down. I’ll find a way for us to start our life together.”
The smooth leather fingers of Din’s glove stroke your shoulder as his words settle over your mind. Not entirely put at ease, but your eyelids grow heavy anyways and you finally fall asleep.
**********************
The next morning, you feel like a cocktail of excitement, fear, and anticipation. Grabbing your things, your plan is to first find a banking center to pull some funds from your medic pension. Then, you’ll need to hunt down a spa that can somehow scrub years of grim off. Finally, you must buy something to suitable wear. Perhaps a gown or dress of some sort.
You smile to yourself at the thought of Din’s reaction to seeing you in a gown. He has never seen you dressed in any sort of evening wear or finery. Shit, he’s never seen you with makeupon.
You look around the ship to tell him you’ll be gone for most of the day, but he’s nowhere inside. A muddled string of colorful curses in Mando’a trickles in from outside.
Din has been largely pissed off the last couple of weeks trying and failing to locate the source of the latest electrical issues plaguing Pathfinder. You walk down the loading ramp and find him on his hands and knees, upper half buried inside the bowels of the ship. He’s banging away at something while muttering to himself. You stop to admire the sight of his muscular lower-half hanging out of the ship.
You’re about to call out to him again, but feeling playful, you impulsively cock your arm back and smack his ass with a loud CRACK. Din jolts forward in surprise, banging his helmet somewhere underneath. You let out a whoop of laughter and immediately sprint off around the side of the ship.
You make it around the other side and skitter to a stop, listening. Your heart is pounding with anticipation. Adrenaline is coursing through your veins and you whip your head around left and right looking for him. You expected him to be right behind you on your tail.
But he’s vanished.
Panicking a little, yet also titillated at doing something verywicked, you squat down to look under the ship. Nothing. The work mat where he was kneeling only moments ago is empty and the silence of the air settles ominously around you.
Fuck, your hand throbs where you smacked him. You are going to pay dearly for that.
“I know you’re out there!” you call out.
Silence.
Deciding to turn back to the front of Pathfinder, a dark form soundlessly drops directly behind you. A whoosh of cool air licks your back, startling you.
Before you can jolt away, a firm grip takes hold of you and yanks you swiftly back. In a tumble of arms and legs, Din flips you face up and collapses on top of you with a heavy thud. He pins your wrists above your head, and cradles your head with other with practiced ease.
You let out a peal of surprised laughter and beam pleasantly at the midnight visor two inches from your face, staring you down.
“How’s your butt feel?” you purr to him, feeling exceedingly brave despite your precarious position.
“Not as bad as yours is gonna feel” he growls back.
“Hmm” you roll your hips up, grinding your crotch against his.
“You are literallya pain in my ass” he snarls, but then groans deep as you start moving your hips up and down, an innocent smile on your face as you rut against his hard length.
He withdraws his arm from its protective position behind your head and finds the edge of your top. Din slips his hand underneath and slowly slides up your bare stomach. His fingertips pause at the base of your chest band. You squirm under him, arching your back to encourage him. He gives in and slides his calloused hands under the band, cupping your breast, squeezing hard as you sigh with content. Your stiffened peak presses deep into his palm.
This will escalate quickly and you have so much shit to get done today.
“I need to go. It’s going to take me all day to get ready, but I’ll be back in time to leave.” You wiggle out from beneath him and stand up, smoothing down your shirt.
“All day? What could possibly take all day?” Incredulous, Dins stands up too, hooking his thumbs in his belt loops, and casually shifts his weight to his back leg.
“Slut school. Gotta brush up for tonight” you quip.
“Yeah? You teaching it?”
“Ooh” you narrow your eyes at him at his low blow. “You’re just sore because I got you good. Not my fault, you were wagging it out there at me.”
You saunter up to him, place both hands on the sides of his helmet and tip his head down. You place a sweet kiss to his forehead.
You try to step back, but his arms snap out and wrap around your waist, towing you gently back to him for a long embrace. He lowers his head to your ear and whispers “be safe, please. See you soon” and with a cautionary squeeze, lets you go.
Turning to walk away, you hear the high-pitched crack before you feel a blinding, stinging pain bloom on your ass cheek. “OW!” you cry out and frantically start rubbing your bottom, trying to soothe the sting away.
You whirl around and give Din an indignant glare as he crosses his arms over his massive chest and emits a dark chuckle.
“Don’t start shit you can’t handle sweetheart” he rumbles.
You growl at him, but turn back around to gather your things and set out. Your butt cheek still burns, but the memory of Din lurching forward and banging his head was worth it. A huge grin breaks out across your face.
**********************
You walk through the front doors of the spa and are enveloped in a blanket of cool, artificial air control. There is so much to take in, your senses overload as you look around the reception area. The walls are covered in white, glittery stone that shimmers in the tasteful lighting. Water trickles down the wall from some unseen source, pinging off the rocks at the bottom. Lit candles on the desk give off a flowery aroma that is delicate and foreign to your nose.
You approach the expansive front desk and the female sitting behind it stands up to greet you with a friendly smile. She is striking. Her skin is porcelain white and equally platinum hair swept back into an elegant chignon. Her eyes are of such a light blue, they are almost transparent, framed by white lashes and eyebrows.
“Welcome to Serenity, how can we help you today?” her Basic drips out of her mouth like honey. Her customer service skills are excellent as she doesn’t bat an eye at your grubby appearance. You look like an alley cat dragged in from a mud fight and has no business being here.
“Um—” you shyly start, unsure on what you need or what to ask for. You decide to tell her that you are accompanying your husband tonight to the Aura for an important business meeting. Having never been before, you don’t want to embarrass him in front of his associates.
“Ah. Of course, of course” the receptionist purrs. She walks out from behind the desk and motions for you to follow her back.
“Let’s do our deluxe spa package, which includes whole-body polish and massage, as well as full face and hair styling….” She elaborates as you follow her into a low-lit dressing room. She plucks a fluffy robe from an immaculate stack on the shelf and tells you to undress.
“Do you already have something to wear?” she asks, while a discerning eye suspiciously evaluates your attire.
“Uh, no. I’ll need to buy something too, but I have the credits” you stammer, glancing down at your filthy appearance as you disrobe. You are starting to feel out of your depth and second-guessing this plan. You are a medic and a solider, not some fancy courtesan. No one is going to notice you, much less a fearsome drug lord.
“No worries. I know just the right tailor” she sing songs. “He makes the most beautiful gowns and with your body….” as her eyes appraisingly run down your naked form, “You’ll look stunning. I’ll let him know that he should be expecting a customer when we are finished up with you here.”
She smiles reassuringly to you as she takes your clothes and helps you step into the warm robe. You sigh deeply as you wrap it around yourself and snuggle your nose into the fluffy collar. It smells of freshly laundered cotton and lilac.
This probably won’t work, you think to yourself. But at least the pampering will be fun.
**********************
Four torturous hours later, it was definitely notfun.
You are not sure what your expectations were – maybe a bath and massage? You got that for sure, but then a whole lot more than you bargained for. An entire team of young females and a few droids dressed in severe uniforms scrubbed, sanded, waxed, and tanned your entire body into radiant submission. Your skin practically sparkles and shines – nails perfectly sculpted and painted. Your hair washed and styled expertly to make the most of its natural color and texture. You gasped when you saw your face. The makeup beautifully enhanced all of your features. Not-overly done, but expensive looking indeed.
Butstars, was the process long and tedious. The worst part was the waxing. After a pert a pert attendee finished stripping your legs, she spread your thighs apart. Before you caught on, she had quickly laid down a hot, thick strip of honeyed wax over the curly hairs between your legs.
And fucking ripped it off.
Despite your serious protests, they assured you that all high-born females do this and wouldn’t be caught dead otherwise. Begrudging, you agreed to let her continue and she proceed to take all your hair off, leaving your nether regions stripped, puffy, and naked as a mole rat.
When the attendant’s back was turned, you reached a tentative hand down to feel between your legs. Your fingertips brushed the soft, bare skin. Oh. You can feel everything. Din is going to lose his damn mind when he discovers this. A warm heat spreads up your chest and neck imagining Din’s hands touching you there.
After leaving the spa, you make one last stop at the tailor’s, having acquired an address from the receptionist when you left. A squat, elderly man dressed in a fine silk surcoat greets you at the door.
After a brief, almost dismissive introduction, he hands you a huge package. The parcel is wrapped in layers and layers of thick tissue and tied neatly with a bow.
“Thank you very much. But…shouldn’t I try it on first?” You ask disbelievingly as you hand him a stack of credits. The elderly man waves a hand away and gently ushers you out the door.
“No need, no need” he cheerily tuts at you in an accent you can’t quite place. “You take this and go, it will fit just fine. You’ll see, ok? Good bye!” and with that, the door slides closed behind you.
You stand outside awkwardly, wondering what sort of Jedi magic the receptionist employed to ensure the tailor had everything he needed to make you a gown. What color was it? Was it long or short? You could not tell from the packaging. What if it doesn’t fit?
You glace at your chronometer. Too late now. Resigned to the fact you were probably in possession of one hideously expensive, atrocious-looking gown, you hail a taxi speeder back to the ship.
**********************
“You’re late” Din grumbles as you dash up the ramp to Pathfinder. You have just enough time to get changed before you two need to head out to the club. As you pass by him, you stop, a tender smile growing on your lips as you look down at him.
He’s sitting on the floor, back propped up against the hull and dutifully shining the last of his armor. The gorgeous metal glints in the evening sunset as he reverently rubs an oiled cloth over the surface. He’s got on his good black boots – leather polished and shined, scuff marks banished. His black duraweave has been washed, any rip has been painstakingly repaired.
That’s when you spy a brand new cape hanging on a hook by his head. The heavy wool dyed a luxurious, inky black. You let out a low whistle as you reach out the finger the rich folds in what must have been an incredibly expensive purchase.
You sink down next to him, your gaze softens. This considerate man that has spent the better part of the day getting cleaned up for tonight. A Mandalorian knight in shining armor, all for you.
He doesn’t look at you yet, but he knows you are taking it all in. Pride swells deep within him as you notice all his efforts. Din silently passes the rag over his pauldron again and again. Your heart squeezes tight and you wish you could take off his helmet and kiss him deeply, showing him how much this humble act means to you.
You settle instead for reaching out to gently lift his hand, bringing his knuckles to your mouth. You rub your lips over them. Pressing kisses, your breath ghosts over his skin.
Din stills and looks up at you, his breath a calm rise and fall. He watches you press the palm of his hand to your cheek. You look…..different he thinks. He has never seen you wear face-paint, or whatever it’s called, before. It takes him a moment to compare this new face to the one he has memorized.
“Hello my love” you croon into his calloused palm.
“I don’t need much more time to get ready. Just need to change into my dress. You almost done polishing your armor?”
“Almost” Din replies. “Wanted to make sure my appearance was acceptable to my employer” he playfully tosses out as he watches your face light up. You rise and head to the captain’s quarters to change.
“Oh most definitely, an act which will be richly rewarded for” you wink at him and sashay out of his sight. Din sighs, and standing up too, re-attaches his pauldron.
**********************
Din hired an expensive, closed top speeder to make a proper entrance in. You look over at Din, watching how the glow of the city lights melt over the reflective surface of his helmet. He looks regal in his impenetrable wall of beskar. His new black cape is tucked neatly into his chest plate, sweeping over his broad shoulders and down his back, cloaking him in darkness. His blaster is holstered on one hip, the Darksaber clipped to the other.
You frown, puzzled over why he decided to take the saber tonight. Din is still wary about using the weapon. He doesn’t trust the blade yet and you sense he’s still hesitant about its power. You shake off the creepy aura the saber seems to emit. Perhaps Din felt the blade was safer with him than locked up on Pathfinder.
You smooth your hands down the front of your cloak, luxuriating in the supple fabric. Din hasn’t seen your dress yet, as the tailor thoughtfully provided this extraordinary cloak to guard against the slight chilly evening. You gasped when you saw it and swung it around your shoulders, clasping the delicate, filigree leaf at your throat, relishing how its billows elegantly out to the floor.
You nervously pet the silver vambraces. Din helped snap them on and synced the location device with his own. They warm to your touch and give you a sense of grounding security as your nerves skitter and fizzle. Running your fingers over the embellished surface, you imagine how you will inch your way to Azucar’s posse.
You wonder how you will walk that knife’s edge of tonight’s act. How will you appear as a courtesan, looking to contract your services for the evening, without actually doing so. All the while, inching your way to the drug lord’s inner circle and immersing yourself long enough for Din to gather the intelligence he needs.
Your initial excitement for this plan is waning fast as the reality arrives and the danger of what could go wrong.
It’s not too late, I can back out of this at any moment and Din will be relieved.
Din see’s you nervously squirming and places a gloved hand over yours.
“Don’t fidget. It makes you look nervous when you have no reason to be.”
You let loose a breath and nod, peering out of the dark glass window as the skyscrapers whoosh by.
Din cocks his helmet at you. He knows you are scared and out of your comfort zone. He squeezes your hands reassuringly.
“It’s going to be alright. Remember what I told you. Keep them talking about themselves, don’t volunteer information about yourself. And don’t drink anything here tonight. Not even straight from the bartender. Not even water.”
You turn your head and raise your eyebrows at him. “Not even water? Why?”
“Drugs” Din scoffs. “Sedatives, aphrodisiacs, amongst others. Hold a glass in your hand to blend in, but do notdrink from it.”
Din is attempting to be helpful, but this only makes your stomach churn.
**********************
The speeder pulls up to the club’s entrance. The jetty is hundreds of meters above ground, yet the enormous skyscraper continues to loom above painted in obsidian and gold. Hordes of expensive aircrafts crowd the entrance as humans and species spill from their transporters and head towards the main doors.
Ever the gentleman, Din exits the speeder first to walk around and opens your door for you, extending his hand.
“Are you ready for this?” he tilts his helmet at you, as you take his hand and step out of the speeder. You snake your hand into the crook of his elbow and give him a false smile.
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
The wide air bridge connects to a towering set of gold doors flung wide open. Directly behind is the grand foyer. As you and Din enter, you gaze up in wonder at the mammoth chandelier. Dripping with thousands of crystals, they catch and scatter light like liquid fire. A staircase made of polished black stone sweeps guests up to the large elevator bay. The nightclub is at the penthouse level, occupying the top four floors.
“Wow” you whisper in awe, as you take in the impressive entrance. You have never seen such a display of wealth and opulence. It makes you feel even more like a foolish charlatan.
The two of you stroll to the foot of the stairs and begin the long ascent. You lift the edge of your cloak and dress with your free hand, to avoid face planting on the steps and starting this evening off with a bang.
Solid glass elevators, cut in facets like precious gems, slide silently down rails. Glittering, the enormous elevators open and the two of you are ushered in along with a large group. With a sickening drop, the elevator shoots up with a quiet whir. The seconds stretch on and people whisper amongst their group, trying not to stare at Din. He squeezes your hand in quiet reassurance.
The elevator doors hiss open and the club-goes pour forth. Din gently tows you out and you stare at the gaping expanse of the club before you. A staircase yawns wide to the massive dance floor. Technicolor lights swirl and pivot from huge overhead rigs. Music is pumped steadily through the sound systems and the bass thumps around in your chest in time with the beat. The room is edged with floor after floor of booths, game tables, bars, and secured rooms for what you can guess is private entertainment. There must be thousandsof beings here.
You swerve off to the right to drop your cloak at coat check while Din walks towards the railing to take in the space. A man of discipline and routine, he enters every room and performs a security sweep the same way, every time. His eyes drift left to right, top to bottom. He notes and files away all possible entrances and exits first. Then, he estimates the crowd size, looking for obvious disturbances and threats. The people appear to be behaving – entertained by the music, dancing, and drugs. They also appear to be unarmed, except for club security and the VIP’s privately hired guardians. They loom about, serious and imposing in the roped off sections of the mezzanine level.
He assesses the guards and their weapons. Older, less reliable blasters, or newer models?
Older, prone to jamming.
Are they alert and disciplined? Or are they distracted by their environment and vices?
Attentive and watchful, these beings are well-trained.
Din meticulously documents each bit of information, ruthlessly deciding what can be used to gain the upper hand or exploit a weakness. Din turns his attention away from the main floor to look for you when you suddenly appear, walking confidently across the hall towards him.
His breath hitches in his throat, all external information ceases to exist as he takes you in.
I am so fucked tonight.
Your dress is made from the sheerest chiffon, dyed to a deep sapphire blue. Panels of fabric pinched at your shoulders plunge down your chest, barely covering your breasts before meeting in a deep v at your navel. A silvered belt rests low on your waist, cinching in the delicate fabric. From the belt, your voluminous skirt ripples out in waves, pooling on the floor and flowing out and around you with each step.
The final touch is a single, devastating high slit that travels up the length of your leg, past your thigh and ending at your waist. Each time your leg parts, the slit allows a peak of the tiny, beaded string of your underwear.
You strut your way up to him, one corner of your mouth hiked up in a wry smile as you observe Din staring you down, transfixed. Stopping in front of him, you innocently twist your shoulders around to give him a peak of the back, which there is none. The dress plunges down, ending to a low point above the valley of your bottom.
“Well? Do you like my dress?” You purr softly at him.
Din tilts his helmet up and down the length of you.
“Where’s the rest of it?”
You blink at him. “What do you mean? This…this is it. This is the whole dress.”
“That’s not a dress, its two socks and a belt.”
Truthfully, you knew the dress was shocking and revealing, but that was the whole point. Yet Din’s reaction irked you.
“Normal husbands would say ‘You look lovely dear.’ But no, you’re acting like I’m naked” you reply hotly.
“Youarenaked” he heatedly whispers back. “And stop arguing with me like we are an old, married couple.”
“Weare an old, married couple you insufferable man” you hiss.
“Not tonight. How am supposed to protect you, looking like that?” he jerks his head at your attire.
“If I’m to get close to Azucar, I need to catch the attention of his entourage” you remind him.
He snorts.
Get attention. Fuck, every piece of slime in this place will be trying to get in between those legs.
Din stays silent, the turmoil of his thoughts guarded by his stoic stance, playing the part of the devoted bodyguard.
He should just throw your ass over his shoulder and stomp out of here, straight back to the ship. But you will be hurt and furious if he does that.
“Let’s go!” you command in falsely cheerful tone, pointedly ignoring his sour mood. Without waiting for Din’s retort, you descend stairs towards the main floor, intent on mingling with the other guests.
**********************
This is not going well.
You have chatted up a few beings and humans here and there, even politely declined several offers to join a group in the private rooms. But you have encountered only few guards from Azucar’s entourage and none have seemed interested. For the most part, they haven’t left the safety of their roped-off section.
Not that it matters because Din is, oh stars, Din is something else right now. His barely contained rage seeps out of him in hot waves – searing into any humanoid man that gets near you.
So far, he’s told about a dozen to fuck off, shoved one, and you pretty sure almost decapitated another. Baring his fangs, he is acting so fucking rabid and possessive over you in ways you have never seen before. You are about to lose your mind.
Fuck, you havegot to do something about this man before he explodes, murders every living being here and ruins any chance to gain any useful information about Azucar.
You tilt your head back, pretending to take another sip of champagne. Your gaze falls to the first mezzanine level above the massive dance floor. The private suites line the exterior wall and you watch dozens of humans and creatures duck in and out all night.
Huh.
The night is still young. You figure you have plenty of time to see if you can sweeten Din’s mood a bit. A bit of soothing balm to calm him down, remind him of who you love and belong to.
You grab Din’s hand and cock your head back towards upstairs, a wordless command in your expression. He curtly nods at you once and silently follows you as you cut through the crowd. Curious patrons part immediately for the Mandalorian – whispering and staring in awe at the bodyguard clad in beskar.
You make your way towards one of the private rooms, pressing the discrete button on the panel as the thick door slides open and you step in, Din following behind you. Once inside, you swirl around and quickly study the control panel. Finding what you think is correct combination, you press a few buttons and the door slides close and locks securely in place.
The room is richly appointed in dark crimson velvet, an oversized, plush sofa on one end, a low table with awaiting wine glasses. You find the light controls and dim them to the lowest setting. Din needs the comforting shroud of darkness to feel at ease in a public place.
You walk up to him and wordlessly press your palms on his chest plate, making him back up a few steps. You press again, and he sinks down onto the thick velvet sofa.
“What are you doing?” Din rasps out, his mechanical voice raking out as he studies you from his seat. You are his gleaming sapphire nestled in a box of velvet.
“Turning your mood around my love. I can’t have my Mandalorian guard snarling and biting at everyone.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about” he huffs indignantly.
Your lips curls at his bullshit answer. You slide your hands into the slit of the dress, parting the cascading folds of the fabric to reveal to him the impossibly small, beaded underwear. Eyes locked on his visor, you hook your thumbs into the sides and leisurely slide the panties down, stepping daintily out of them.
You bring the delicate undergarment to your nose and inhale deeply, enjoying every moment of Din’s reaction. He visibly stiffens and groans as he watches you breathe in your own musky scent.
“Get over here” he grits out, spreading his legs farther apart and adjusting himself.
“Isthat how you talk to your employer?” you tease and saunter over to him.
You lift your leg and slide onto his lap, straddling him. The feather-light chiffon skirt spreads and drifts down and all around you. Placing your hands on his shoulders, you slowly drag your hips up and back over his rock-hard bulge. Din moans deeply and tilts his head forward, resting on your chest as his hands wrap around your waist.
“I can’t…I can’t fucking stand the thought of anyone touching you. Not tonight looking the way you do, not ever.” Din admits, voice gravely and low, enjoying you rocking up and down his crotch, feeling your wetness begin to soak the front of his pants.
“Shh…I know” You hush him. “I think you need a little reminder of who I belong to” your purr down at him.
Din’s breathing is ragged. He loves this – fucking loves hearing you talk like this.
You reach down and grab his hands and take off his leather gloves, pulling on each finger to loosen them slightly before sliding them all the way off. Watching his visor intently, you slip his hands into the slit of your dress and guide his fingers to your center.
He starts, noticeably surprised when his fingertips meet your bare, butter-soft and butter-slick folds.
“What…what did you do to yourself today, cyar'ika?” he says hoarsely.
“Got an “A” in slut school.”
He groans as you press your hips down on his hand, urging him to explore you. He slides a hand down, palming your naked mound, fingers gently gliding over your wet seam. He moves further down, his index finger pausing and teasing at your entrance.
Surprising you, he continues on until his finger tip finds that tight rim of muscle and swirls around the edge a few times. You shiver and shyly tuck your head into his shoulder as he pets and explores all of this newly naked skin.
Your clit throbs impatiently with a greedy need to be rubbed. Din’s calloused fingers only stroke the fire in the pit of your belly more.
“Din…” you let loose with a shudder.
“I know” he husks.
Din flips you on your back, pinning you in place. With a hard stare of his helmet, he slowly rucks up the layers of your skirt to your waist. Heat prickles your chest as he spreads your legs apart. The cool air kisses your nakedness and you fight the urge to cover yourself from his unbridled stare. Eyes closed, you hear a faint hiss followed by a clank when his helmet meets the floor.
You suck in a harsh breath when you feel a pair of warm lips kiss the inside of your thigh – a calloused hand stroking the skin of the other. Din continues to press kisses into your skin, working towards your center. So close to where you ache for him, he nuzzles the stubble of his scruffy face right where your leg meets your hip. Ticklish and teasing, your legs to quiver and jerk. Din chuckles knowingly at the effect he has over you.
Finally,finally, he lowers his face to you and drags the wide, rough flat of his tongue up your center. You arch your back in bliss. You can feel every tiny detail of his face and lips. The scrape of his facial hair, the wet plush of his lips, the curve of his nose.
He licks of few wide stripes before flicking his tongue over your tiny nub. You jerk and whimper at the intensity of the touch.
“Fuck…you are so soft…and bare” he marvels as he nuzzles his face in your in folds.
“Din…what are you doing” you gasp as he spreads your growing gloss all over your sex with his mouth and tongue.
“Enjoying myself” he murmurs, dragging his lips back and forth over your clit. “Gods, you feel so good like this.”
Din seals his lips over your clit and suckles gently, alternating between little sucks and flicks until you a squirming, wet mess beneath his hot mouth. You paw at his head, his hair, anything to anchor you as you grind your hips into his face, begging him silently for more.
His lips leave you for an instant to wet two fingers. When his mouth returns to your nub, he sinks two fingers inside you roughly. You tense and moan at the stinging stretch, delighting as it fizzles to a low, hot burn. He pumps a few times, curling his fingers in search of your favorite spot.
He finds it. That spongy bit of flesh with ridges like a peach pit, already puffy and swollen for him. He presses on it hard, and ripples of pleasure shoot out from your core. You whimper as he starts his relentless attack, curling his fingers over and over again, coaxing you to the edge. Your legs are quivering, eyes screwed shut as your mind goes blank. All you can focus on is that delicious pressure building deep in you.
Your muscles seize up and you hold your breath as the pressure rushes towards that razor sharp peak. Teetering on the edge, you lungs burn and it rises and rises, pushing to that blinding point of oblivion. Din feels you clenching and he sucks hard on your clit, flicking furiously with his tongue as he shoves you over the top.
Bliss erupts from you center and you clamp down hard, release rushing out of you as you cum on his fingers, still thrusting in and out of you.
Waves of spasms wash over your body as you gasp for air. Your body sinks down deep into the soft couch. You hum in contentment as the waves of chemicals coat your soul, white washing you in pleasure.
You hardly register the shift of weigh before Din hooks your legs over his shoulders. The kiss of cold metal against your skin surprises enough to open your eyes. Din leans his heavy body forward, pushing your knees deep into your own chest, opening your center wide and angling it up. He penetrates you slowly until he hits the bottom of your messy sex.
He looks down and watches himself pull out of you, his cock wet and glistening. He begins to thrust hard in and out of you, hitting the back of your womb with each firm snap of his hips.
Oh gods, the position lets him hit something deep inside you and your cry out. Panting and grunting, Din has you folded in half and spearing you on his cock, but it’s not what you want.
Notthistime, anyway. You want to feel close to him, for reasons you cannot explain yet.
“Wait…stop” you gasp, unable to get a full breath from being crushed in half.
Din stills and pulls out, letting your legs fall back down.
“What’s wrong?” he pants heavily, his eyes filled with concern. “Too much?”
“No..no it’s good. But I want it different. Like this…”
You grab his chest plate and pull him down to you, welcoming the heavy weight of his body. You wrap your legs around his hips and help guide him back into you. He lowers his mouth to yours in a tender kiss as he fully seats himself deep inside you.
Pulling back, he arches an eyebrow high while regarding you thoughtfully.
“Is this what you wanted?”
“Uh-huh” you hum, giving him a soft, sweet smile. “The good, old-fashioned way.”
Din tuts and kisses you tenderly while he makes deep little thrusts inside you, building his rhythm slowly back up.
“Its always goodwith you mesh’la” he croons into your lips.
You laugh and bury your face into the cowl of his cape, as he lets loose a choked noise when you muscles contract around him. You let your body go to mush as he reaches his rhythm, rocking with him and taking each curl of his hips.
Creamy-soft and pliant, he pounds into your center, making you a perfect mold of him until his vision blurs and he can feel his release near as his balls draw up tight. You nibble on his neck and ear, and any other patch of skin you can reach to encourage him. Feeling saucy, you whisper some shockingly dirty things into the shell of his ear.
Finally, he stutters and slams into you, squirting waves of hot cum deep inside. Your walls squeeze him tight, milking him, wanting every last drop deep inside you. Spent and wrung dry, Din collapses on top of you, his head nestled into the crook of your neck as he pants for air.
“Fu…fuck me” Din groans out, wrapping his arms tight around you.
“Just did handsome…” you nuzzle into his hair.
**********************
Din is still sprawled on your chest, limbs languid and basking in the post-orgasm glow. Din’s hand has slithered under the panel of fabric of your dress to cup a breast. Occasionally, he sweeps a thumb over the nub of your nipple, coaxing it to harden and pebble with the goosebumps. You giggle at the touch and Din smooths the tickle away with his flat, broad palm. His cock is soft and tender now, but still nestled inside you. Din likes how this feels. He likes smothering you with his body and keeping you filled.
The fact that you will walk away this evening with his cum trickling down your inner thighs washes away the ferocious jealously he felt watching those other males approach you. He doesn’t normally feel possessive over you. But something about tonight’s ruse, your dress, the stress of the job…it was too much.
“Din…” you breathe softly.
“Hmm?”
“Do you think we just made a baby?”
Din’s body goes unnaturally still.
“…what?” he croaks out.
“I forgot to mention that other errand I did today. I had my implant removed.”
Incredulous, Din takes a moment to let the words sink in. He rises and props himself up on one elbow so he can stare down at your face.
“Mesh’la…why didn’t you tell me earlier?”
You snort.
“You didn’t tell me we were getting married. So, consider this my payback.”
For a panicked moment, you think Din might be upset with you. But then your eyes search his and you behold a man that cherishes you above all else. Adoringly, his eyes soften as he strokes the back of his hand down the side your face. He lowers his lips to yours and brushes a kiss across your lips. He pulls away just enough to murmur into your lips—
“I’m not sure it works that quickly, but nothing will give me greater joy to see your belly grow with my child.”
You beam up at him and briefly imagine him cradling your swollen belly. Yet, as much as you want to stay holed up in this tiny room forever, it dawns on you that tonight was a total failure. You chew your bottom lip.
“Were not going back out there, are we?”
“No.”
“So, since the mission is over, do we debrief? How did I do?”
Din hums, scratching his jaw.
“Well, let’s start with a review of the evening’s events. You showed up wearing this, giving me a near-heart attack. We didn’t get anywhere near Azucar, bailed halfway through the evening, and decided fucking is more fun anyways.”
You giggle into his chest, burying your face.
“So, what you’re trying to say is, tonight was a raging success?”
Din’s arms give you a squeeze and he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“What I’m saying is…you’re a terrible spy. And, you’re fired.”
“Oh Din, how you flatter me. I fear I shall swoon” you tease him.
“This is the way.”
He grins at you and you throw back your head and laugh. Gods, I love this man.
“Come on” he pats your hip softly. “Let’s get your coat and go, I’ll let the driver know that we are ready to leave.”
You sigh and reluctantly sit up, sad to leave the safe embrace of Din’s arms but he’s right. There is no point staying any longer. And the sooner you leave, the sooner you both can get back to the ship, tug on one of his sweaters, and curl into his naked body for a long night’s sleep.
**********************
You tell Din to wait by the front entrance while you go and pick up your cloak, sliding your ticket out from your silver cuff to hand to the droid. Din walks over to the railing overlooking the vast expanse of the dance floor below. He leans on the rail, one ankle casually crossed over the other, observing the crowd below while he waits for you.
You are waiting at the counter, a thin, vicious voice speaks right into your ear, way too close for comfort and startling you as you spin around.
His skin is scaly and reptilian-like. He lacks discernable ears or eyelids, and a voice decoder is embedded in his throat, to help his anatomy speak Basic.
“I heard you’re interested in Azucar’s attentions tonight, yesss?” he slithers out, tongues flicking out and sliding over his lower protruding lip.
You gulp and try to push down the revulsion rising in your throat. Trying your best to fix your face into a placid expression, you reply—
“Oh, I’m sorry, I’ve decided to retire early tonight.”
Your eyes frantically look for Din, but he’s all the way across the grand entrance, back facing you while he’s surveying the club.
Fuck, he can’t see me.
“Not anymore…” His voice snakes quietly out. He slides a firm hand on your lower back to start urging you along. You plant your feet firmly.
“No, I’m sorry I’m leaving now…”
“You’re leaving with me, whore” he hisses back as he brushes back the edge of his coat to reveal to a holstered blaster. The nonverbal gesture clearly communicating you have little choice in the matter.
Your eyes flicker up to his face, your blood has turned to ice in your veins and you have lost all abilities to hide your panic.
He shrugs and almost apologetically hisses out
“Boss wants what he wantsss.”
Soundlessly, you walk away with him. You glance over your shoulder, screamingat Din in silent terror, trying to somehowget his attention as the two of you disappear into the crowd.
Din feels it.
He senses something is wrong and he turns around to locate you at the coat check. He suddenly feels a tightness in his chest and a dread sprouting deep in his belly.
But he can’t find you. His visor snaps quickly to the left and right, but you’re gone.
“Target’s name is Azucar” Talon begins and Din audibly groans, rolling his head back and to the side in annoyed recognition.
“I’ve heard of him” Din says, his tone laced with disdain. He leans back in the booth and crosses and ankle over the opposite knee.
Talon nods in solemn agreement and takes another sip of his wine. Turning to you, he continues on and you realize that the rest of this conversation is for your benefit only.
“Azucar is a spice dealer. He rakes in billions of credits a year enslaving and exploiting entire towns to harvest spice and export it. He’s the highest grossing seller and exporter of spice in the local galaxy.”
Billions of credits.
You arestartled by the thought of a single private citizen having that much wealth and power.
“He’s been eluding the Guild for years and creating quite the reputation for himself. He’s a menace and his power and influence grows too strong. I’ve never seen a bounty so large on a single individual before.”
“With a reward that high, why has no one brought him in yet?” you ask.
“They have, but no one has come back…alive” Din softly replies.
The three of you are silent as you ponder the implication of what Din just said. Bounty hunters havegone after him, but no one has survived. Well, shit….
“That’s right,” Talon continues. “Apparently, Karga’s handed out many tracking pucks to hunters over the years, only to send them to certain death.”
You swallow a mouthful of food and jerk your chin at Din.
“How come you’ve never tried to bring him in?”
Din looks down and shakes his head slowly back and forth, fingers idly circling the rim of his water glass.
“He has an army of bodyguards and snitches. No one talks without him listening. Risks were just too high.”
“Until now” Talon drawls out.
Din’s eyes slide over to Karrde and narrow at him in warning.
“Whatever that pea-brain of yours is thinking Karrde, forget it. She’s not going on a hunt with me. Not now, not ever.”
“You flatter me, as always” Talon grins back at Din, before shrugging his great hefty shoulders and shoveling in a forkful of food before speaking—
“However, your little lady made a bargain with me. And now, it’s time to pay up. I took the job on the condition that I could get it done. There is no backing out. Fortunately, I have a plan. Would you like to hear it?”
“Yes” you blurt out, at the same time Din snaps a resounding No. Din glares at you and you glare right back. He emits a long-suffering sigh and looks away, relenting.
Talon’s eyes dance between the two of you with delight before continuing.
“In a month from now, my spies tell me Azucar will be taking up residence at his safe house on Coruscant. There, he frequents the Aura at least one a week to enjoy the comforts of the escorts. It’s the only time he ever leaves the safety of his compound and is at his most vulnerable.”
“What’s the “Aura?” you ask curiously.
“It’s a colossal night club. Everyone who’s anyone goes there for all night gambling, drinking, and whoring. It’s very exclusive.” Ha. You’d bet your pension that Talon’s frequented the business more than a few times.
Din snorts. “So what’s your big plan then? Kill him at the nightclub? I’ll get cut down by blaster fire from fifty armed guards.”
“No, no” Karrde replies back. “Of course not. The plan is simple. You and your wife go to Aura. She pretends to be a high-class escort and you play her Mandalorian bodyguard, giving her credibility to her value and status. She catches Azucar’s eye for a private “session” and slips him something, knocking him unconscious. You spirit him away and no one is the wiser.”
Your jaw slackens while Din stares at Talon, his eyebrows nearly escaping his forehead. You are both too stunned at his brazen plan to speak.
Talon is busy cutting a huge slice of meat to notice your shocked expressions before he casually comments—
“You two have a month to prepare” before he tilts his head at Din. “And If I were you, I’d start learning how to use that Darksaber.”
************************
“No.”
You and Din are sitting cross-legged on the floor, facing one another. The chef sent a heaping plate of dinner so Din could eat in private. Meanwhile, you were eyeing the decadent, fat slice of dark chocolate cake before you. Compliments of Talon, no doubt.
Din delivers his curt response to you without hesitation. As if he’d everentertain an asinine operation like the one Talon proposed.
“It’s risky, I know” you start again. “But at least considerit. Azucar is too well protected in his compound, so a covert operation makes the most sense and he won’t expect someone crazy enough to attempt it.”
“What happens when things spiral out of control?” Din asks softly, cocking his head at you.
“What happens when that bastard pins you down and has his way with you? You think I’m going to risk that mother fucker touchingyou?” Din grits out between clenched teeth.
Disgust rolls down his body at the thought of that sadistic drug dealer rubbing his murderous hands over his wife. You crying out, panicking, as things quickly escalate. He’d have no chance to rescue you in time. Not without blowing both your covers and dying by blaster fire.
Over his fucking cold, dead, beskar-clad body.
“I have no purpose Din. I need to help people” your voice cutting off his runaway train of dark thoughts.
“I need to do something. Right now, all I feel like is dead weight by your side. I know you don’t think I’m capable, but I am. I went to boot camp. I can shoot and fight. I wasn’t trained as well as you, but I’m skilled too.”
“I never said you weren’t skilled mesh’la” Din says with pained eyes. “I’m just…” the words failing him. “I lost my parents and the kid. Must I risk losing you too?”
You pause and watch Din draw his knees up and brace them in the crooks of his elbows, hands locked in front. You wonder if Din realizes that he’s already using his body to throw up walls and retreat deep inside his head. There is no armor or helmet to hide behind.
He turns his face to the side - longing and anguish paint his features. You feel grateful in that moment that you’ve been given the gift of his face to finally see his emotions play out.
“Do you miss him?” you ask quietly, knowing the answer.
Din hesitates, his forearms tensing and relaxing.
“Every day.”
The softly spoken reply hangs heavy in the air between you. You heart aches for his loss. You miss the child too, but it is nothing compared to what Din feels. You have been reluctant to bring up Grogu too much, not wanting to further his pain. However, you can offer Din a way to move forward and recapture what he has lost.
“I know he can never be replaced, but with this job, we could make a home somewhere and start a family. You could be….a father again.” Your voice is quiet and full of hope.
Din swallows thickly, his pulse quickens. “Is that what you want?”
You nod your head at him – eyes shining brightly. “It is. And I know you want it too. Let me do this one thing, for us. Let me help.”
Din gives you a sidelong glance and concedes you have made a good point. You are both floating in space, empty of purpose for different reasons. You feel adrift without your calling to ground you. He feels devoid of the family and safety he so desperately craves.
I’m tired, Din admits to himself. Tired of running, tired of fighting, tired of having no name or clan. This job could be his very last. It’s the biggest bounty he’s ever attempted and it’s enough to find a place to settle down, start a real life, and figure out what, in the actualfuck, he’s supposed to do with that Darksaber. He cannot believe he is agreeing to this nonsense.
He blows out a hard breath, cheeks inflating slightly.
“Fine, but we do this my way. This is just an intelligence-gathering mission. You get us close to Azucar so I can observe his guards and collect information. Everyone has a weakness, we just have to find out what his is so I can exploit it.”
You allow yourself the smallest of smiles, not daring to come across anything near what could be described as gloating. If Din catches a whiff of you reveling in this small victory, the stubborn ass would change his mind instantly.
“What about Talon’s idea of me drugging him?”
“No” Din quickly replies. “That’s too risky. Too many things could go wrong. I’ll figure out another way to get to him.”
“There is oneother thing—“
“No. No more.” Din says abruptly, returning to his dinner and pointedly shoveling in a mouthful of food.
You raise an arched eyebrow. “Have I exhausted your capacity for discussing difficult and emotional issues for the day?”
He grunts. “More like the month.”
You give him a rueful smile and decide to let the poor man eat in peace. One must pick their battles. You turn your focus to the enticing dessert before you.
You sink the edge of your fork into the tender, midnight-black crumb cake. Sliding the fork slowly out of your lips, you close your eyes and hum, letting the moist explosion of nutty flavor melt on your tongue.
You cannot remember the last time you had chocolate. Cocoa beans are only grown on terrestrial planets with the right climate, making the beans incredibly rare and expensive. The amount of beans needed to roast, grind, and churn into chocolate liquor adds to the ghastly price. You can only imagine where or how Talon managed to source such a rare treat.
“Din, you have to try this. It’s incredible.”
You open your eyes and look at Din as he eats, or more accurately,inhales, his food. You smile at this man and his distinctive eating habits.
Din approaches eating like one would approach changing spark plugs in a ship. A basic, required task done without fanfare as efficiently as possible. You watch with fascination as Din scoops all the food, without regard to type or texture, into a giant pile and heaves it into his face hole. There is no pausing to savor the tenderness of the meat or the buttery texture of the potatoes.
No, it is slapped together and force fed down. You aren’t even sure if he pauses long enough to take a breath between swallowing.
“Hey, try this” you say as you take a chunk of cake and slide it onto his plate.
“Hmph” he grunts as you. You watch with horror as he scrapes the tender cake into his pile of veggies, potatoes and meat, mashing it all together before shoveling it in his mouth.
“Good” he replies.
“Din, you don’t have to clump it together like that. You can slow down and enjoy each dish, you know.”
“Why? It’s just food cyar’ika. You eat it and shit it out.”
You sigh. “Did you even tastethe cake?”
“No.”
You chuckle. You set your plate down and swipe a big gob of shiny frosting on your finger. You crawl over to Din and climb into his lap. Din smiles at you while you grab his chin and hold your frosting-covered finger up in front of his mouth.
“Humor me. Just try it.”
Din’s smile broadens to something wicked before capturing your finger with his mouth and lewdly sucking it clean. You giggle and squirm at his ridiculous behavior.
“Well?” you eek out between giggles. “Did you like it?”
“Hmm” he grabs your hand and presses a soft kiss into your wrist. “It’s pretty good” he agrees. “Here, let me see your other hand.”
“Why—?” you start to ask as Din brings your other hand up and swiftly grips them tight in one big hand. He leans over you and swipes another glob of frosting. Before you can screech at him, he smears a little bit across your mouth and crashes his lips over yours.
“Argh!” you sputter and laugh as he licks and sucks your lips. His actions soon change from playful to tender as he starts kissing you in earnest. You melt in his arms and gently pull one of your hands from his grip. He relents and you slip a hand around his neck. You open your mouth wider and encourage him to tangle his tongue with yours. Once you have him fully distracted, you carefully reach your other hand out and blindly search for the plate of cake. You find it and sink your fingers in deep in the moist dessert.
You pull back and lock eyes with Din. You give him the most sugary, innocent smile you can manage. Helpless to your charms, his face softens and he gives you a sweet smile back.
Sucker.
You whip your hand around and smash the handful of cake right into the center of his face. Stunned, Din doesn’t move a muscle as you slowly peel your hand away.
Oh stars, you got him good. The crumbs and frosting are confectionary sludge that is smeared down his face in complete ruin. Din remains frozen, absorbing this traitorous act. With incredible composure, Din begins wiping the cake off his face and licking his fingers. You nervously laugh once, but you grow quiet as he continues to clean his face with deadly calm. When his eyes finally slide to yours, you become very, very still.
His eyes are filled with something feral and purposeful. He pauses mid-sucking a finger and gives you an unnerving smirk.
“Bad fucking girl.”
Your eyes blow open wide at the danger in his voice. Unable to form a single syllable, you wait as Din casually lifts you off his lap and leans back against the side of the bed.
He tugs the front of his pants down and pulls himself out. He gathers a glob of cake from his face and smears it over his thick, swollen head. Turning to you, he grips the hinge of your jaw, pulling you closer so your noses almost touch. Looking at your mouth, he pushes a thumb gently into your parted lips. You suck his thumb obediently as he starts suggestively thrusting it slowly in and out. His deep baritone voice come out liked raked coals.
“And now you are going to clean up the mess you made. All of it. Using only this” and he continues to slide his thumb in and out of your wet lips.
You comply.
************************
“Alright, let’s see what this thing can do” Karrde gamely calls out. Standing opposite Din, Talon is holding the beskar spear, ready for a spar.
After a week of flying, the three of you travelled and landed on a small, quiet terrestrial moon for refueling and supplies. The moon was on the way to Coruscantand served as a convenient outpost for long-haul freighters. The post contained little more than landing docks, repair shops, and junkyards. Din and Talon were able to scope out a secluded spot to dock the ship and allow Din to spend a few days training with the saber while you and Talon stocked up on necessities.
It is early morning and the clearing was covered in frozen-stiff moss and grass. Partially encircling the space were enormous pine trees with long trunks that speared into the sky. Grey bellied clouds rolled in overhead and released a fine, freezing mist over the clearing. Tiny droplets cling to Din’s hair, causing the ends to curl at his nape and around his ears. He shifts his weight and the ground crunches like broken glass beneath his feet.
Din nods at Karrde, takes a deep breath and engages the saber. As the blade oozes out, a wave of oily, dark power snakes up his arm.
“Ugh” he scowls. He hates the way the saber feels. It pulsates and snarls, as if it’s alive and plotting a sinister agenda. Din gets the foreboding feeling that every time he uses the saber, ittakes something from him. What, he can’t be sure of. Din is certain that possession of such power must come at a cost. Din wonders what price he’ll have to pay.
“What? What’s wrong?” Karrde asks curiously, his head tilted. He re-adjusts his grip on the spear.
“I’m not sure” Din replies, eyes falling to the dark blade. “Each time I wield the saber, I get this nasty feeling. As if it’s trying to sink claws in—“
Din doesn’t get to finish. He senses a flash of movement and Talon has fallen upon him – circling the great spear over his head and crashing it down on Din.
Din’s reflexes snap awake. He swings the Darksaber up and blocks the spear before using it to shove Talon off him violently.
“Asshole” Din spits.
“Quit your blathering pretty boy and fight” Karrde taunts. Din charges brutally at him. Beskar and saber clash again and again, turning the spear red-hot from the battling.
Karrde is a power fighter. He uses his size and strength to rush at opponents and stun them by attacking hard – overwhelming them with devastating blows. Din, however, is a clever and deft. He quickly picks up on Karrde’s method and uses it against him. Letting Karrde strike over and over again, Din forces Karrde to grow weary – his blows become slower and weaker.
Din is tiring too. The saber vibrates terribly, causing Din to maintain a death grip as he cuts and slashes in wide arcs. His bad right shoulder, the one he has repeatedly dislocated, complains loudly from the effort. Shooting blasters and pulse rifles don’t require nearly the same strength as wielding the Darksaber. Weeks of planning intelligence missions instead of running down quarries has left him a little out of shape.
Deflecting a thrust from the spear, Din’s upper body twists, giving a small opening. Karrde lands a nasty punch in Din’s side and jerks in pain. Snarling, Din kicks Karrde’s knee, causing him to grunt and stumble sideways. On his way down, Karrde sweeps the spear low, taking Din’s feet out from under him. Together both men collapse on the soggy ground, wheezing.
Grinning and panting, Din retorts “She fucks better too.”
Din quickly rolls away, avoiding Karrde’s fist that comes flying out, aiming for his jaw.
Undeterred, Karrde springs up and reaches out to grab the Darksaber, hoping to turn it around on Din and repay him for that nice little comment.
Din anticipates this, snatches the saber first, and chucks it away. Din’s intent was to only fling the Darksaber far enough out of reach so that he could tackle Karrde. However, Din threw the saber with a little bit more muscle than he realized.
Flying in the air, the Darksaber seems to follow a trajectory of its own. Dazed, both men watch as the saber spins on its side in a flat disc, like black rings circling a gas planet.
The saber arcs through the surrounding pine trees in the small clearing. The blade cuts through the massive tree trunks like a hot blade through butter.
The saber swings back around and instinctually, Din lifts his arm. The saber comes hurtling back to him and slams hilt-first into his hand – palm stinging from the force of the catch.
Slack-jawed, the men watch as the trees shudder and slowly topple over. One after another they come crashing down.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The noise is deafening as thick limbs collide and crack against each other. As the treetops hit the soft earth, great clouds of dead pine needles and dirt are kicked up, sending large plumes of debris into the air.
“Shit” Din breathes out heavily, unable to tear his eyes from the destruction. “Did you seethat?”
Hands planted on hips, it takes a moment for Karrde to respond.
“I, uh….I did.”
Slowly turning to Din, whose eyes are still glued to the trees - “that was no normal act of physics Mando. The saber returned to you. As if you were its master and you calledit.”
Amazed, Din finally looks down to marvel at the saber in his hand. Din feels like he is truly seeingthe saber for the first time. Goosebumps pebble the back of his neck.
It’s probably wise to stop now.
As soon as Din has the thought, the saber retracts back into the hilt. Din never touched the activation switch.
He simply thoughtthe act, and the Darksaber obeyed.
Din represses a shudder and tries it again. He looks down at the Darksaber and silently commands without speaking.
Open saber.
The saber slides out obediently and a white-hot streak of fire flashes up his arm –striking the base of his skull. The flash of pain catches Din off guard and he whips his to the side, grimacing.
Karrde watches this entire ordeal with a wary eye while Din takes a moment to recover.
“I can’t use this” Din mutters. “It’s too unpredictable and we don’t even understand how it works. There is something wrong with it Karrde. I can feelit.”
Karrde strokes his goatee in thought.
“Perhaps it can sense your hesitation—your reluctance to harness it. Maybe the saber wants to be owned, Mando. Do you think it can block blaster fire? Like the Jedi’s lightsabers do?”
“I’m not sure. Wait, where are you going? Damn it!”
Karrde is already taking a few steps back from Din. Wordlessly, he reaches under his arm and unholsters his blaster. He takes aim at Din and fires out a few rounds, without even bothering to give him warning.
Din thrashes the saber around, tilting it left and right across his body with quick swipes. The blade easily swallows the bolts, sparking and snapping greedily.
“For fuck’s sake Karrde!” Din shouts, “I don’t have my armor on!”
“You don’t need it!” Karrde brightly calls out before whipping out this other blaster. Double-armed, Karrde fires off round after round at Din. He’s not even trying to avoid hitting his friend now.
Talon is purposefully goading Din. He has a suspicion, but he needs to test it first. This is the only way. Well, no. That is not true. This is not the only way, it’s just the most fun and riling Mando is always a good time in Talon’s book.
It works. Spitting mad, Din arcs and swings the saber with all of his power, relying on it to keep him safe. Din hardly thinks as his arms elegantly hack and swipe the blade through the air, blocking each and every blaster fire. He swiftly reduces the distance and charges at Karrde, his feet tearing chunks of moss and grass in his wake.
Karrde tosses the blasters aside and braces himself for impact, grinning like the fucking lunatic he is.
Din tosses the saber aside too and plows into Karrde, toppling over as they both fall in a heap of arms and legs on the ground. Karrde’s elbow manages to make contact with Din’s nose, his head snapping back from the force. Snarling, Din is grinds Karrde’s face into the dirt while shouting—
“That was my noseshithead!”
Heaving Din off him with an enormous shove, Karrde shouts back between heavy pants—
“It’s a big fucking…gasp… target!”
Karrde is crawling away from Din, struggling to get on his feet, when Din falls on his legs, gripping his feet tight. Karrde wriggles violently and suddenly, his sock covered foot wrenches free, leaving Din clutching nothing but an empty boot to his chest.
“Ha!” Karrde laughs triumphantly as he scrambles up to his feet. Incredulous, Din stares at the empty boot in his hands, before cocking his arm back and chucking it at Karrde.
The heavy boot thumps Talon squarely in the back of his head, causing him to stumble and fall over. Din barks out in laugher before collapsing backwards, hitting the ground with a wet thud.
Gasping for air, both men are sprawled on the ground, chests heaving while they catch their breaths.
“Sorry” Talon manages to get out after a few long minutes. “But I had to confirm it.”
“Confirm what?” Din pants, still enjoying the mental replay of knocking Karrde over with his own damn boot.
Talon takes a deep breath before speaking.
“You’re force-sensitive Mando, you just don’t know it yet.”
************************
“What,the fuck, happened here?”
The two men sent you to the junkyard armed with a list of parts, supplies, and other odds and ends for the ship. You have returned back just around dusk and were shocked at the scene before you.
The clearing looked like a fierce battle had been waged. There are blaster marks everywhere, scorching deep in the earth. Trees that were perfectly upright when you left are now haphazardly laying on their sides.
Din and Talon are muddy, battered, an apparently ravenous. They don’t seem to give two shits though, as they hunch over their meal, greedily eating charred bits of meat off the bone.
The fire, you observe, is in fact the Darksaber embedded deeply into a pile of chopped wood. The deep, blue-black embers are slow-roasting the wild game suspended above. You also notice that Din is eating in front of Talon. The corner of your mouth quirks up at this small gesture of trust Din is bestowing upon his friend.
Din responds between mouthfuls—
“Learned how to use the Darksaber today.”
“It makes an excellent barbecue” Talon helpfully chimes in.
Din nods in agreement.
You narrow your eyes. They carefully keep their attention focused on their food, but you can tell the two jackasses are suppressing grins.
“Uh-huh. An entire day together and all you two discovered is how to grill meat with it?”
“Don’t question our methods woman” Din teases, while sucking a bone clean.
You roll your eyes and turn to Talon.
“What happened to the trees?”
“They needed a haircut” Talon replies and Din snickers into his plate.
“A…hair cut” you sarcastically repeat. Crossing your arms, you glare down at him. You turn back to Din.
“What about the blaster fire marks? Hmm?”
“What? Oh. That’s Talon’s fault. He shoots like a man with two dicks pisses—sprays everywhere.”
Talon tosses a bone at Din and it pings off his head. Din declined to react and continues plowing through his food in his signature style of eating.
Startled, you whip your head back to Talon.
“Youshot at him?”
Talon shrugs a half shoulder at you while tearing at a chunk of meat with his teeth.
“I had a hypothesis. I needed to test it, scientifically.” The way Talon emphasis the word confirms it was anything but scientific.
Din swears underneath his breath.
“And? What were the results of this veryscientific experiment?” you press.
“That I was correct. As usual.”
Din sighs in exasperation. “Is the strain terrible Karrde? From carrying around that great ego of yours?”
“Sometimes” Talon mildly responds. “But it is a burden all great men must bear, I suppose.”
“Ugh, I hate both of you.”
You’ve heard enough of this nonsense. It was glaringly apparent that you are not getting straight answers out of either of them.
You reach over Din’s shoulder and snatch a prized chunk of meat off his plate and stalk off towards the ship, leaving the two dingbats to their barbecue.
************************
“Ten hells this is heavy” you huff to Talon and Din, as you continue to push and roll the log, your arms quivering from the effort.
The following morning, the three of you are rolling enormous logs into a line in the decimated clearing. Last night, Din had finally confessed what transpired and Talon suspicions.
Splendid. As if life with Din wasn’t complicated enough. Now, the Darksaber has somehow awakened a power hidden deep down in the recesses of Din’s mind.
You took the news in stride, not wanting to overact and cause more stress than Din was already feeling about the situation. Instead, you offered to help train him. Perhaps learning how to harness the power would help Din wrestle control over the blade. Thus, why the three of you ended up back in the clearing on another fine, cold day.
The men are panting, feet slipping in the mud and moss as they maneuver the logs. You roll the last one into place and stagger back, hands braced on your knees –heart pounding at a gallop.
This exercise is Talon’s idea of ‘training’Din and you are highly skeptical. Talon claims to know the Jedi well, from his years working alongside the rebel alliance, providing intelligence. However, that didn’t make him an expert in using the force and certainly not qualified to teach Din how to wield the Darksaber. Reluctantly, you admitted that he had far more knowledge than either you or Din had about such power. Wiping a sleeve over his brow, Talon explains his idea.
“Alright. Let’s see if you can call the saber back. Throw the saber at the logs, making sure it sinks deep. Then, try retrieving it with your mind.”
“Right” Din replies dubiously before taking a few steps back. You quickly move out of the way, trying not to look so damn nervous. You shiver and rub your hands rapidly up and down your arms. The clearing is dusted in frozen dew and your breath unfurls from your nose in little curls.
Din engages the saber and adjusts his grip so he’s holding it like a javelin. He twists his wide shoulders around, cocks his arm way back and hurls the saber through the air. It impales the log with a thud—hilt wobbling from the momentum.
“Good” Talon grunts. “Now then. Call it back.”
“How?” Din turns to Talon, arms upraised.
Talon strokes his goatee. “Ah, use the force?”
You snort. No one in this clearing has any fucking clue what they are doing. Exasperated, Din snaps–
“How am I supposed to use the force, Karrde? Wave my hands around like an idiot?”
Talon rubs the back of neck, looking uncertain. “Try closing your eyes and thinking it?”
Groaning, Din complies. He raises an outstretched hand and closes his eyes. White breaths huff from his parted lips and the furrow between his brow sinks deeper. He tries to focus on the saber but his mind is distracted. His thoughts are clouded with doubt about his supposed abilities and mistrust of this ancient weapon. He silently commands the saber to return back to him.
Nothing.
Din drops his arm, staring hard at the saber. This is never going to work, he thinks. Karrde is wrong. I’m a just a simple warrior, not some fortune-telling wizard that wields magic.
Din plants his hands on his hips and stares at the ground, deep in thought. You cock your head as you study him. His whole body is tense and he is ill at ease. This isn’t how Din looks when he fights. When he attacks someone, he is calm. His mind goes quiet and gives himself over to instincts and decades of training.
You walk up behind him and slowly wrap your arms around his waist. Din drops his fists and turns his head, wondering what you are doing. You press your face in between his shoulder blades, inhaling deeply. You pull the scent of him - maleness, tilled earth, and wood - into the pit of your lungs and exhale out.
Unraveling your arms, you slide your hands up his back and up over his great big shoulders. He relaxes under your touch. Din understands what you are doing and takes a few steading breaths, letting the tension dissipate from his muscles. You run one hand along the underside of his arm, lifting it - hand outstretched towards the light saber.
“Call it my love” you breathe into his back, eyes closed and pressing your whole body against his. Din feels the weight of your body pressed against him. Warm, solid, and strong.
Strength.
That is what you are to him. You are his rock – his guiding light. Tethering himself to the calming warmth, Din summons the dark bond of the saber. A phantom, razor blade pain slices into the base of his skull. Only this time, he invites it in instead of fighting it. The invasive, dark power seeps in and settles over him. Din rests his gaze calmly on the saber. His body still and his thoughts as clear as cut crystal. He gives his command.
Come.
The saber yanks itself free and soars back to Din’s palm, hot and stinging. Wide-eyed, all three of you stare in collective silence at the saber - snarling and spitting in Din’s grip.
Talon swallows thickly—
“Do it again.”
************************
You are curled up in an overstuffed chair by the window of your suite, watching Din over the rim of your tea cup. It’s early morning and Din is face-down on the floor and panting. A sheen of sweat is beading down his back, highlighting the thick, taught muscles.
You were guiding him through his morning workout routine, designed to strengthen his upper body and his bum shoulder. If he was going to wield the Darksaber, he needed to put forth an effort to grow even stronger. There is only one more day of travelling left before you arrive at Coruscant, and only two more days before Azucar will be at the Aura.
Din has spent the last weeks doggedly training his mind and body. The latter being a task he most dearly hated. Pissing and moaning, the exercises have become a chore but you have insisted he do them anyways. Mostly, because you look forward to watching him sweat and how his sinewy muscles stretch, contract, and quiver from effort.
You are astonished at what a few weeks of regular, fresh meals and workouts have done for Din. His soft tummy you love resting your head on is gone. His shoulder is fully restored and he can swing and hack the saber for hours without tiring. He can even command the saber a bit—sort of.
It’s still a little wild and unpredictable, but you’ve assured both Din and Talon that you could re-attach a severed hand if you hadto.
However, you think he might have reached his limit this morning. You are sipping your hot tea when he collapses on his stomach, unable to will himself to finish the next and last exercise, pushups. You snuggle deeper into the chair, reveling in the soft feel of Din’s thick sweater. You have taken to wearing his warmer clothes when the chill of the ship seeps into your bones.
This morning, his sweater and a pair of panties are the only things you are wearing as you regard him thoughtfully. You remember how hard it was for him to let you work his injured shoulder. You had to resort to using Grogu as a distraction so Din could relax enough to let you do your job.
The memory gives you a new idea and you nearly laugh out loud at your own dimness. He needs a distraction, just like last time. A game or something to make these exercises bearable. A sinister smile spreads across your face.
“Push-ups. And then you’re done” you remind him.
“I know” Din replies flatly. “How many.”
“Hmm, let’s see. You did sixty-five yesterday. So, seventy today.”
Din groans but doesn’t move. You cock your head at him.
“I’ll make it fun if you do.”
“How’s that” he replies, face still smooshed into the floor.
“Take a look big guy” you respond in a sultry voice.
Intrigued, Din raises his head. As he locks eyes with yours, you scoot your bottom forward and slowly open your knees. You keep spreading them wider and wider, until his eyes fall to the junction of your thighs. He can just make out the tiny valley through the thin white cotton of your panties. You smile and slowly slide your hand down and start petting yourself. Lightly, you stroke your fingers up and down the center of your sex.
Din licks his lips and you watch satisfied as his chestnut eyes darken and his voice comes out ragged.
“What are you doing mesh’la?”
You bite your lower lip. Hook, line, and sinker.
“Do you want to see?” you ask innocently.
“Fuck…yes.” he growls.
“It will cost you ten push-ups.”
Scowling, Din gets to work right away. His arms snap under him and eyes locked on your stroking, he pumps out ten pushups in perfect form.
You place your mug down carefully on the table next to you and with one hand, slowly drag the crotch of your panties to the side. Your sex glistens in the morning sunlight. Your hairs dampen as you feel that delicious, warm heat grow deep inside you.
Entranced, Din rakes his eyes over your most intimate part. You cannot believe you are doing this. But Din’s delightfully depraved mind makes you feel like no sex act or request is too embarrassing or over the top. He is game for anything and everything.
“Should I spread myself for you? Hmm?”
Din practically whines at you in affirmation.
“Ten more then. Now.”
Din presses out the next ten while you use your free hand to spread your lips wide. You stroke a finger down in the crease between your inner and outer lips and let the tissue pull and stretch. You let your head fall lazily to the side and let out a deep sigh.
“Ohfuck” Din hisses. “Show me more.”
“Ten more, big guy.”
Din obeys even as his pace slows a bit. His eyes trained on your center, you circle your clit slowly and give him a small moan. Just a little performance for his efforts as you stroke lazily over your tiny nub and feel it swell.
“Do you want me to put a finger in?”
Din’s eyes are black pits as he grits out. “How many?”
“Ten more” you coo out.
Din grunts with effort now as he heaves himself up and down and you sink a finger deep into yourself. As he pumps his arms, you time the stroke of your finger to the same speed as him. He notices and his mouth hangs open as he pants with exertion.
“Another finger” he commands.
“Ten more” your demand back.
You slip a second finger inside and pump your fingers in time with his arms. He’s slowing down more and his shoulders strain and tremble from the effort.
“Yours feel so much better” you purr out as you continue to slide in and out of yourself.
Din drops his knees to take a break and the look on his face makes your breath hitch in your throat. He’s going to fucking ruin you when this is over. He’s only got twenty more push-ups left.
“Taste yourself.” His voice is barely above a whisper and your mouth forms a small curl.
“That’s going to cost you twenty.”
Din flashes a lopsided, heart-stopping smile as he raises his knees back up and with great effort, starts slowly pressing out the last twenty pushups.
You try to ignore the burning heat spreading across your chest and neck as you crook a finger in deep, making a show of swirling it around to Din – collecting your slick. You slowly slide your finger out and raise it your mouth.
You hear Din mutter desperately as he reverts to Mando’a.
You pause just at your mouth and with coy smile, you instead hike your sweater up and rub your glossy fingers over your nipple.
Din hisses while you continue to stroke the gloss all around your peaked bud until it stands firm and erect, glistening in the soft sunlight.
“Come taste it yourself” you tease him as you fondle your nipple, rolling the hardened nub between your fingers before pulling it out and letting it pop back with a little sigh.
“Sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine” Din hisses out between clenched teeth as he counts out the final pushups.
When he hits seventy, you open your eyes to tell him he’s done for the day but all you catch is a flash of sweaty tan muscle. Din springs off the floor and tackles you. You yelp out in surprise as he snatches you from the chair and tosses you on the bed. You bounce once before Din’s body crashes down on yours.
Stunned, he captures your mouth in a commanding kiss while he grasps the side of your panties and pulls fiercely. The fabric crackles and snaps as he tears it off you in a frantic flourish.
“Oh, shit!” you eek. Din shifts his weight to angrily shove down the front of his soft sleeping pants and pulls his cock out. You spread you knees wide and squeeze your eyes shut in preparation for his brutal entry. However, Din’s back and arm muscles have reached muscle failure and he can’t hold his weight. He collapses on top of you with such force it knocks the wind out of your lungs with a loud “oof.”
“Fuck” Din pants out. “I…I can’t do it. I can’t hold myself up anymore.”
You burst out laughing and wrap your arms around his neck and Din starts laughing too. His arms are dead meat by his sides and his sweaty chest sticks to your breasts where your sweater was rucked up.
“Oh well, I guess maybe later then” you say teasingly.
Din groans in deep agony as you laugh at his pitiful cry. You nuzzle your nose into his temple and press a soothing kiss there.
“I’mkidding Din. Roll over you big lug.”
You help push him over and he flops onto his back. You straddle his hips and lean over him, lifting the hem of your sweater to expose your wet nipple. You bring your breast up and tease the tip of your erect peak down the bridge of his nose, before hovering it just over his lips. Din grasps your breast and captures your peak deeply in his mouth, sucking hard. Din hums in content at your musky, womanly taste.
Your eyes close and you let out a faint moan as Din gently bites down. Zips of arousal circle and course through your breasts at the strange mixture of pain and pleasure. Din reaches his other hand down between your bodies and inserts a finger deep inside of you, dragging your slick up the center of your slit and starts circling your throbbing little bud. Din continues to suckle and clamp down on your nipple while circling your clit and heady combination sets your body ablaze. You feel your build rise steadily, but your insides have nothing to grip on. You feel the overwhelming need to be stretched and stuffed.
You gently pull his face off your breast to sit up to turn around - straddling him backwards.
“Where are you—”
Din asks, puzzled until it becomes clear to him what you are going to do. You toss him a mischievous smile over your shoulder while you grab his cock at the base. You gently rock your hips up and down, rubbing your puffy, wet sex up and down his length. Feeling him tense and buck against you, his cock twitches with anticipation.
Din grabs your hips gently and helps guide you down over his throbbing dick. Fuck, he’s not going to last long as he watches himself disappear into the tight, hot heat of you. Once you are fully seated, you slowly walk your hands forward until your breasts lay flush against his legs. The position causes your hips to rotate up, granting Din a front row seat. You slowly bob up and down on his cock, slicking him with your thick gloss.
Din grunts in satisfaction as he pushes the hem of your, his, sweater higher up your back. He drags his hands to the fleshy globes of your buttocks – keeping you spread open.
“Godsmesh’la” he says tightly, as he stares in wonder at sight before him. Your folds stretched wide and the tender tissue of your hot sheath gliding over and over him.
“Enjoying the view my love?” you ask, voice muffled.
“You have no idea” he grits out, his voice strained and it causes you to chuckle softly.
He’s unable to pull his eyes away as he lifts your hips up an only lets you sink down far enough to catch his ring on the rim of your entrance. You understand what he wants and indulge him.
In and out, in and out, you slide just the tip of his wide, blunt head until you are burning with heat and desperate to sink all the way down.
His grip holds firm and he forces you to keep kissing his head with your sex until you whimper and plead to have him all the way inside you. Din relaxes his grip and lets you sink down and your eyes flutter shut as your walls strain and burn from his girth. You both moan in unison at the bliss of being sheathed to the hilt.
Your heart pounds in your bundle of nerves, demanding friction. You reach your hand down to start rubbing tight circles over your clit as you work yourself up and down his cock. Your climax winds tighter and tighter as you flicker your finger over your stiff peak, waggling it faster and faster as your whole body goes ridged with the effort.
“Shit. How did I get so…fucking…lucky” Din groans out as your rhythm builds. “My sweet riduur…fucking me like this…”
Din can feel your walls clenching around him hard and he can tell you are getting close.
“Don’t stop..fuck..that’s it. Keep going.”
Din watches your tight pussy fall apart. Your muscles flutter and squeeze his cock hard in undulating waves of release. He keeps your ass cheeks spread wide so can fuck up into as you shake and tremble through your orgasm, making your cry out in pleasure. A fresh coat of your release oozes out and coats him.
The visual is too much for Din. His pleasure builds quickly and spins out of his control. The speed and power in which he erupts takes him by surprise. His hips stutter and jerk as his dick spits hard and deep into you. You moan with relief when you feel his warm seed bloom inside.
Oh fuck, look at that beautiful sight.
His brain short-circuits as he sees his creamy cum spills out down his cock. He lazily drags your hips up and down his shaft, extending the sweet descent of his climax as long as possible. With an enormous sigh, his head and arms fall back. He is spent. Mind, body, and soul have separated and hover over him as he breathes heavily through the come down of his high.
You gingerly lift off him, and carefully position yourself by his side. Din uses the last of his strength to drag you across his body, his preferred position while his body quiets. Your swollen breasts press into his chest, and one knee hitched high and over his hip. You feel sated and content.
Wow, that must have been good. Din is speechless as you circle a finger around one of his nipples. His breath is slowing down when you hear a tiny snore escape.
Surprised, you lift your head to look up at him and he is…dead asleep.
You giggle quietly to yourself. He is doneand you gloat with pride knowing that you knocked him out cold with all the teasing and love making. Stealthily, you extract yourself from bed. Not that you should have bothered, a tie fighter’s blood-curdling scream couldn’t wake him now. You fish out a fresh pair of panties and leggings, wondering how many pairs of underwear Din has destroyed so far.
Dressed, you slip out of the room and head to the dining area in search of breakfast.
************************
You’ve just about finished eating your food when you hear the soft pad of footsteps behind you.
Din walks up behind you and nuzzles his face into your neck. You close your eyes and angle your head, unable to resist his affectionate display. You hear a soft clink and your eyes open and glance down at the table. Din has placed two wide and silver cuffs before you.
They are stunning.
Amazed, you pick one up and are enthralled by the heft and detail. Intricate and feminine tribal scroll work adorn the surface. You turn them over and spy the tiny mud horn seal embossed at the edges. You notice the inside of the cuff and recognize the tell-tale sign of miniscule hidden internal mechanics.
“These aren’t just cuffs…” you trail off.
“No” Din responds giving you a quick kiss and nuzzle to your temple. “They’re vambraces. I made them especially for you.”
Din trails a finger over a spiral of dainty dots, cleverly incorporated with the decorative embellishes.
“Comms link.”
His finger slides over to a small, raised button and depresses it. You gasp as the hilt of a slim knife shoots out one end.
“Dagger.”
He picks up the other cuff and slides a compartment out of the end.
“Secret compartment.”
Lastly, he traces a fingertip over a small, raised bump, carved in the shape of a shell.
“Embedded tracking device, so we can always find our way back to each other.”
Speechless, you turn over the vambraces and slip them on. They wrap around and fit your forearms perfectly.
“We’ll, look at that.” Din murmurs lovingly next to your ear.
Title:Stepwise Pairing:Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating:E, 18+ Word Count:5.1k Warnings:explicit smut (fingering, blowjob, unprotected p-in-v, cum eating, cum play, mention of ass play), touch-starved Din, possessive Din, somewhat inexperienced Din, soft feelings, references to canon-typical violence Summary: Requests for both soft and smutty touch-starved head canons spiraled out of control and became this.
Din Djarin knows some touch.
He’s versed in violent touch, in touch made heavy by duty. He’s comfortable with the tangled chaos of hand-to-hand combat, the brutal embrace of wrestling a quarry to the ground, the dead weight of a body slung over his shoulder, the strange intimacy of towing someone by their bound wrists from the moment of capture all the way to the carbonite chamber.
This reblog is long overdue for a fic that I’ve read as many times as I have, and I apologize for that. Not only did you take the time to answer my ask, you turned that answer into something so breathtakingly beautiful and gorgeous and full of in-depth care for this man’s character — and I will never be over it. I’ve read passages of this so many times I think I might be able to recite them. This is like an epic poem to Din, an ode to him and I can’t think of anyone in the whole world who would be more perfect to write something like than on him, other than my very favorite Din writer. I can’t thank you enough for this, Simone ❤️
Favorite parts under the cut (spoiler; it’s the whole thing):
Learning the feel of you without the barrier of leather and duraweave is more intense than he expected. He already knows the shape of you—the curves and valleys and ridges—but now he gets the textures and the temperatures: the softness of your skin, the tickle of your body hair, the warmth of your breath when you bring his knuckles up to your mouth to plant kisses on each one. He loves it all.
I know I asked you about how Din feels about touch, so I don’t know what exactly I was expecting, but it sure as hell wasn’t whatever fucking poetry this is. JESUS. This exact sentiment is the entire premise behind his initial attraction in TMTC and I know that I’ve told you this before and you’re probably so sick of hearing about it, but what took me chapters to convey only took you a deft, beautifully written paragraph and I am literally in AWE of your talent. I love Iove LOVE that he becomes clingy, because of COURSE HE WOULD — he would be mesmerized by it all.
He’s not proud of the sounds he makes, but he’s too lost in the sensation to really care that he’s panting audibly, his labored breath a staticky drag through the modulator.
Fuckkkkkkk — “staticky drag through the modulator”. I’ve read (and I’m not even joking) just about every single fic of Din on his ship that exists (which is probably something I shouldn’t admit, lol) and the way you nail these immersive details about him under that helmet, or what he’s wearing, or his environment — as a reader, it’s so goddamn LUSH, keeping you right in the environment of the story and as a writer, I am so envious of your vocabulary.
he’s pressing the heel of his hand over yours, flexing his hips, and cumming in his pants like a fucking teenager. He’s too drowned in your lust-blown eyes and the way you moan oh fuck that’s so hot to be embarrassed. You keep your grip on the damp spot over his oversensitive, spent cock—clinging possessively—throw your head back, and fall apart too.
This was WAYYYYYY FUCKING HOTTER THAN IT HAD ANY RIGHT TO BE. My GOOOOODDDDDDD
spit-slick hand
*pockets this mentally because I love the way it sounds*
when you fall asleep together, he coils around you like a hungry snake, your limbs intertwined like climbing vines, his face tucked between your shoulder and your ear. Lying in the tight space, enveloped by him, his humid breath against your neck, you don’t need a blanket at all. You toss it somewhere down by your feet and soak up the heat he radiates
The groan of longing that I made when I read this paragraph is…..embarrassing, lol. My god this is everything. The way he seeks to touch every single part — large men in small spaces is my bread, butter and JAM — but this; the tenderness in this, the intimacy, the gentleness but also this sensory language is literally stuff of dreams. I want you to know that when I post about working on my own craft and taking time to read people I really, truly admire in order to absorb their brilliant writing and study it to get better, I am 100% talking about you.
A pained sound—a sound like raw relief
RAW RELIEF — that’s so fucking perfect, I can’t —
his eyes darken and brim with lust
The IMAGE of this ❤️❤️
I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again — you are a phenomenal writer and I am so beyond lucky to be blessed with access to your talent. The way you write him is it for me and the way you write in general is truly literal goals.
Thank you so much for answering my ask — I’m gonna go get this tattooed on my body now
Warnings: smut (18+ ONLY!), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstim, face sitting, helmet comes off, manhandling, slight insecurities, comfort, fluff, porn without plot
Notes: So my brain went into extreme horny mode after those new pics dropped and I was fueled on by thirst chats @ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa too and wrote this! And I wrote this with a plus size reader but this can be enjoyed by all! Enjoy @flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog too!
~
“Din… Ahh… Fuck… Wait…”
“Shh, it’s alright. I’ve got you, meshla,” Din cooed at you from his position on his knees.
