Summary: A series of drabbles, headcanons and one shots exploring Din Djarin’s sweet new life.
Pairing: Din Djarin x f!reader
Ratings: vary from sweet to spicy (check individual works). All my fics are 18+, minors pls do not interact.
A/n: I LOVE hearing from you about this universe, so always feel free to send through headcanons and ideas! However requests are closed for the moment.
The way I love Cottagecore!Din and couldn’t even try to pick a favorite. Each one is just a perfect little moment and I love revisiting this soft sweet world where Din is happy ❤️
Summary: You and Matt make a bet you can go without each other for a week. Well that week is up… lets see how you did…
Warnings: Smut, PIV sex, slight fingering, sweaty sweaty desperate sex, pet names, slightly subby matt
Words: 2,176
The knock at the door echoed around your apartment. Even without Matts extraordinary hearing you could hear him shuffling and tapping his feet impatiently.
The second the door opened his cane folded at lightening speed and his arms wrapped themselves around you knocking you back, his foot kicking out to shut the door behind him. The wave of his cologne and whatever his used to wash his clothes crashed over you and filled all your senses. You pressed your face in his neck, placing a kiss against the pulsing vein there.
“I missed you” he huffed into your shoulder. You laughed and straightened up, “Is that so? I couldn’t tell”
You’d made a drunken bet with him that he couldn’t go a week without fucking you, upping it (after three more shots) to a week without seeing you at all. Surprisingly he’d made it this far but you could tell by the way he spun you and pressed your back against the closing door that his patience had run out. You had been cocky and so had he, you’d refused to give in despite the fact that the last two nights you’d forced yourself to sleep with thoughts swirling round your head of everything you were missing.
I don’t know. This idea entered my head bc of this post and it rotted away in there. This is just for fun, and I had to get it out. This is a real write-it-and-yeet-it-out situation. Have fun.
The Greenhouse
Pairing:(wait for it) Victorian-era AU gardener!Din Djarin x female reader. WC: 1600ish
Warnings: Smut, PinV sex (unprotected), creampie, a good dose of Victorian shame, Din being a little chatty, a touch of praise. That might be it?
⊹₊┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ✿ㆍ┈ㆍ┈ㆍ┈₊⊹
The summer humidity is hot on your skin as you race through the wet grass, dress swishing as your legs carry you back to the greenhouse.
Warnings: Pretty graphic descriptions of what it’s like when I have an asthma attack. They’ve been happening a lot and I wish Frankie was there, ok? This is my indulgent lunch break drabble. (Asthma attacks are so different for everyone. This is a lot of what mine are like, not what it is like for everyone.) Don’t read if you feel uncomfortable. I just need some Frankie TLC.
this is frighteningly detailed—I don’t have asthma, so I’ve never experienced what you described, but I can feel the panic in your writing and it’s so visceral, which just makes Frankie’s intervention all the more powerful. I love how you allude to Frankie’s deep worry hidden under that calm, collected surface. this is wonderful. what a wonderful partner Frankie would be in a time of crisis
