Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
i really love how much emphasis the mandalorian and grogu placed upon how kind din djarin is.
is he an incredible fighter? yes... it was cool to see him kicking ass on the big screen.
but more than that, i really appreciated his interactions with the anzellans how empathetic he was to rotta and of course how patient and loving he was with grogu. i loved how it was highlighted that din is actually kind of averse to violence, and mostly views it as a last resort that should only be turned to when talking doesn't work. that is one of the things i adore most about his character.
he's a walking beskar-played contradiction. he appears like a terrifying mandalorian warrior to the rest of the galaxy, but underneath that steel is a heart of gold. that part of him means so much to me, and i'm so glad it was present as he took the leap to the big screen!
I wanted to write something about Din since the movie just came out, so enjoy this piece of smut :)
Din and you turn the lights in the razor crest off so that you can touch his face for the very first time.
Contains: smut, oral sex (f receiving), kissing, fingering, little bit of edging, praise kink, p in v, dirty talk, unprotected sex, breast play, creampie, gentle and sweet sex, soft!Din, angst, Din takes off his helmet, body worship, implied size difference, they're both a little nervous and shy, vulnerability, fluff, comfort, Din is a gentleman, crying (but in a cute way), established relationship
Wordcount: 6,252
Masterlist
Wanna be on my taglist?
You giggle gently when Din pushes you back, his bare fingers grabbing your waist like it's the only place they have ever belonged.
"You're not gonna back out, are you?" you whisper once he has trapped you between his broad body and the wall of the razor crest. At this point, the need to press your lips against his, to touch his face and trace the mouth you have no idea what it looks like becomes unbearable. Like always when you are with him.
"No. Are you?"
That makes you burst into laughter, though you are not sure why.
You feel drunk. Drunk on him, drunk on his muscular body, drunk on the charged air that hangs heavily around you like dense fog.
"No. Why would I?" you murmur and trail your thumb along the visor of his helmet.
You have grown to love and resent it at the same time. You hate it because it is the only thing separating Din and you, it has taken so much from you and keeps taking more, but then again, it's him. It's part of his identity, whether you like it or not, so you would probably forever glare at that visor and feel like you're staring straight into his soul because you simply have to make your peace with what you have.
"I love you," you mutter, softly biting down on your bottom lip as you feel his grasp tighten on your waist.
"I love you too."
Sometimes, it's strange to let the curtains fall and give him so much while his expression and the depth of his eyes are hidden by his helmet. You doubt that you will ever get used to it, although tonight might change that experience.
His touch is feather light as he slides his hands up your sides, gently caressing the side of your breasts.
"I can't wait to feel you," you breathe, your eyes following the motions of his fingers. In response, one of Din's hands reaches up to cup your face, tilting it up a little. You wait for him to say something because you feel that the gesture has solely served the purpose of looking at you before speaking, but he doesn't, which makes you a tad nervous. After his thumb has tenderly swiped over the corner of your mouth, Din sighs heavily and grabs your wrist with his free hand.
"Iā¦ I'm ready. I think." He presses your hand against his heart, which allows you to feel his thundering pulse. You have always loved to rest your head on his chest, listening to his heart until you have fallen asleep and carrying the steady rhythm across the edge into the dreamlands.
"Okay," you smile, then take two large strides toward the door. You close it without a word but turn toward him while your finger hovers above the light switch.
Your grin is genuine, yet a little uncertain and vulnerable. Why wouldn't it be? What you are about to do requires trust and love, which you share for one another in unbelievable ways. This is just the last manifestation of that love, you feel.
After you have switched off the lights, the room is swallowed in darkness. There is not even the digital display of a clock or any red flashing lights that are somehow connected to the cockpit. No, Din and you have successfully removed any lamps or other sources of illumination from the sleeping place so that the two of you could carry out your plan exactly as you came up with it a few days ago.
"Follow my voice, sweetheart," you hear Din say, his voice still distorted from the helmet. Good. You have told him that you wish to be the one to take it off when the time comes.
Then, you stand in front of him all of a sudden, or at least you can feel the warmth his body radiates prickle on your skin. Your hands come up to rest on the side of his helmet while he places his palms on the small of your back.
"I'm nervous," Din admits quietly. The vocoder makes his voice sound even softer and more intimate, causing a shudder to ripple down your spine.
"So am I," you smile into the dark, standing on your tiptoes to gently kiss the side of his helmet. "But it's gonna be alright."
"I know it is," he murmurs, then drops his hands to the waistband of his pants. "Do you wanna do it? Or ā "
You don't even let him finish with that and immediately begin undoing his pants and quickly yanking them to his knees. It's strange to do it blindly, but fortunately, your hands seem to be magically attracted by his heat and always know where to pull. After he has toed off his shoes and kicked off the piece of clothing, his shirt is next in line. You struggle a lot more with all the countless buttons and buttonholes, which draws a low chuckle from Din after a while.
"Do you need some help, darling?"
"I can do it," you protest and bite down on your lip in concentration, ignoring his teasing tone.
"I know that you can. I could make it faster though."
"Shut up," you scoff and finally slide his shirt off his shoulders, letting it drop on the ground next to him. It's not needed anymore. In fact, you wish it would never be needed again and this moment would never end. The lights would forever be turned off, his body in its purest form forever pressed against yours.
The next thing you feel is Din running a hand from your hip up to your shoulder.
"Can I?" he asks like the gentleman that he is, tracing soothing circles over your skin.
"Yesā¦ Unless you need my help, of course."
He only reacts with a quiet snort and then starts the same process you have just finished with your clothes. You stay still, your lips curved while you feel his hands all over your body, at your waist, your chest, your hips and thighs. Obviously, he does way more than he has to and slides his palms over your flesh long after your skin is already exposed. You don't mind it, of course, even though you can't wait to finally take off that last remaining thing on his body. Well, you have waited for years, which means you can also wait another few minutes. Especially when waiting feels so good with himā¦
When Din feels like he's done, he brushes your hair over your shoulder, making it fall down your back.
"You're really prettyā¦ So pretty, it just ā drives me insane." His voice is hoarse and raspy, and now that the air around you is dark, you're so much more aware of every little noise he produces. All your other senses work better that way, which prompts you to pay more attention to Din's unmistakable scent of peppermint and parchment. Both fresh and grounding.
"Thank you," you whisper and feel your heart rate pick up as your boyfriend leads you to your shared bed, which is just a mat on the floor of the Razor Crest, but over time the two of you have made it a very cozy corner with all those blankets and pillows.
Din sits down with his back against the wall, like the two of you have discussed it. You feel a tad dramatic thinking about how you have gone through every little step even though the two of you have slept together so many times before. Stillā¦ it's different tonight.
"It's weird," he laughs gently while you lower yourself to climb in his lap as elegantly as possible in the dark. "Not seeing you."
"Yeah, wellā¦ Now you know what it's like for me every time," you grin, relaxing the second Din has you securely in his hold and manhandles you on top of him. Your knees are on either side of his hips and your hands are on his helmet at once, lovingly gliding them along the metal. When it's one of the only things of him that is accessible to you, you learn to appreciate it regardless of what a burden it poses in your everyday life. It's him, after all. Even though the material is so much colder and sleeker than his skin.
"I don't know how I would do it. If it was the other way around." Din rubs your naked lower back while his head dips lower, resting against your chest. "I don't know how I could stand not seeing you."
"I don't have a choice, do I?" you murmur and hope he doesn't notice the tremor in your tone.
Tears well in your eyes at his words, not because you're mad at him or disappointed in him but because he has hit a nerve. You don't know how to stand it most nights as well, and these feelings are so complex, you're not sure you are capable of understanding them yourself. How could you possibly try to explain them to him? You love him so much, it hurts not to be able to look into his eyes. And you hate that you can't see him without his helmet, but what is possibly even harder is accepting that there is no one you can channel your anger to. It's not his fault, so all you can do when he apologizes to you is kiss the top of his helmet, tell him that you're not mad at him and mean it. Because you do.
"Thank you," he growls and slides his hands up your spine, pressing you against his frame with so much force, you gasp quietly. "Thank you for ā for doing all this shit. For ā giving me the choice to love. I never ā I never believed it would be an option. So what you're doing to me is the greatest gift I could ever imagine."
You don't answer at once because you fear you might burst into tears if you do. Instead, you bury your hand in the nape of his neck and rub his warm flesh, just feeling and savoring his presence. It's Din, it's the person you love regardless of any night you spend awake, staring at the ceiling and craving things you know you'll never have. It's the man you would sacrifice anything for, the man you quite literally travel through space for. Just to be with him.
"Can Iā¦ Can I do it?" you ask after a while, straightening up to make out his helmet in the dark.
"Yeah, sweetheart. Whenever you feel ready."
The truth is, you have felt ready for months, yet you take another beat, exhaling heavily before your trembling fingers drop to his neck.
"I'm really nervous," you chuckle and swallow hard while you start lifting his helmet.
"So am Iā¦ You don't know how muchā¦"
The helmet is weightier than you have expected it, but it grounds you in some strange way. When you're done, you place it on the floor next to you, careful not to give it a scratch. Everything that follows once you sit upright is more overwhelming and more breathtaking than you could have ever anticipated. It's just a helmet, that's all. It's absolutely ridiculous to be so taken aback just by the fact that he is sitting in front of you without that single item, but you can't help it. Your heart is thumping in your chest, your hands trembling even harder as you put them on his chest.
"Hey." Your voice is breathy and weak, which is no surprise considering you're shaking like a leaf.
"Heyā¦" Din sounds different, though it is still undoubtedly him. Justā¦ a lot clearer and closer than before. Maybe a little deeper as well.
"Iā¦ Can you say my name, Din?"
He does, and it causes a tear to roll down your face, catching on your upper lip. After that, you draw a deep breath and snivel faintly, which prompts him to cup your cheek with his hands and wipe the single drop away.
"Can I touch you?" you ask next, feeling grateful that he doesn't try to comfort you in your tears. It's simply what you need right now, and it feels too good to blink the wetness away. You don't know if his voice attempting to calm your demeanor would cause your tears to dry or only make you cry harder, but you don't want to find out, really. For now, everything is fine, even in spite of the overwhelming emotions you go through, the ups and downs and the helplessness spreading through your system.
"Yes. Wherever you want, darling."
You start at the base of his neck because it feels right to make your way up slowly. Meanwhile, Din's hands settle on your sides, tracing slow patterns but leaving you in control of the pace, the passion of the moment and everything else, which you appreciate. You can take all the time in the world, touch and explore his skin for as long as you want to, and you have a feeling in your gut that it is going to take a long time until you're done.
"Din?" you murmur after a few minutes, your hands lingering just below his chin now.
"Yes."
"Can you ā describe it again?"
"Yesā¦ Of course, sweetheart," he whispers and knows precisely what you want without you having to spell it out.
"I have hair on my face. Not a lot, not very thick hairā¦ But some on my chin. And on my cheeks. And above my mouth."
You nod slowly, not minding that he can't see it.
"And your eyes are brown."
"Yes. They are. So are my eyebrows."
"And your nose?" You shift on his lap a little, moving closer to his chest.
"I don't ā I have no idea how to describe noses, sweetheart."
The two of you laugh in unison, which causes a few tears to drip onto your own wrists. Then, your hands wander up further, and for the first time, you feel his chin beneath your fingers. Obviously, it's impossible to determine what he might look like just from feeling his bones and skin and hair, but you don't care about that right now. As he has told you, there is stiff hair that pokes into your fingertips when you trail your fingers over his beard. When you move them along his jaw, you can detect the end of it close to his ear.
"Careful, darling," Din whispers and squeezes your waist. "Don't hurt yourself. They can sting."
"I don't mind. I like it. That you have hair on your face."
Truthfully, you haven't met many people with beards before. Most people in the small town you grew up in were clean-shaven. You don't know why that is, but there is one thing you know for sure: you really adore what Din's face feels like beneath your touch.
While your boyfriend's palms travel up your thighs, you work your way up his face until you find his nose, which seems broad with a small curve in the bridge. You trace it with your fingertip, then move along his nostrils.
"I like it," you smile broadly, shifting yet another inch closer until your chest is flush with him.
"You like my nose, baby?"
"Yesā¦ I think it's very beautiful."
After you're done with his eyebrows and forehead as well, you lean in and kiss his chin. It's strange to feel his beard tingle against the skin around your mouth, but most importantly, your body is flooded with joy and relief. You can't count how many times you have wished you could cover his face with kisses, his mouth, his cheeks, his chin, nose and forehead, and now, you finally get to do it.
"Din," you whisper, more tears falling from your waterline.
"I know, babyā¦ I know." The charged air stirs as he speaks. You can't help it anymore, you lean in, close the distance and press your lips against his. You have experienced many vast and touching moments in your life, but this one definitely counts as one of the grandest of them all. At first, you forget how to breathe, your lungs forgetting how to work, as though petrified, just like the rest of you.
"Breathe, darlingā¦" Din calms you, noticing your quick, uneven breathing. All you can do is whimper softly, your lips hovering inches above his soft mouth. Everything about him is so incredibly warm and mellow, even the sharp hairs on his chin, if that makes any sense.
"I want ā " you start but don't finish the sentence because you don't know how to express the needs and wants you feel so deep in your stomach.
"I knowā¦ I know, darling. I got you. Do you wanna lay down?"
You nod since you feel that it might be best to give up some control for Din to take the reins. You feel exhausted just from the simple act of holding yourself up in his lap, and your body is still shaking so hard, you wish to just be covered by his wide, muscular shoulders. But there is one thing you demand, one thing you definitely can't go without yet.
"Please kiss me," you mumble while Din carefully flips you over, a knee pressed between your thighs and his body caging you in.
"Whatever you want, sweetheartā¦"
He is so unbelievably cautious and tender with you, it makes you think of yourself as a breakable vase or a glass sculpture. Every single gesture, his hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers teasing the swell of your breast as well as his deep, vibrating voice when his mouth hovers close to your ear. He kisses you everywhere, on your chin, on the tip of your nose, on your brow, your hairline, your ear and even your eyelids. That last part makes you giggle so hard, Din joins you, and for a while he just rests on top of you, his face squeezed against your brow as the two of you calm down from your outburst.
"I wanted to do this so badlyā¦ Kissing you. Kissing every part of you, my love. I don't ā I don't even know how I made it so long without it. You're so beautiful, so perfect and I just ā I need to show it to you." He has growled that last sentence against your temple.
Meanwhile, you bury your fingers in the back of his head, twisting the strands around your digits. Dark brown, as you know. At least that is what Din has told you. When you asked him about whether they were curly or straight, he wasn't able to give you a straight answer and said that they were flat after a long day of wearing the helmet but curly right after a shower.
"Please, Din," you beg him and sling your legs around his waist, trapping him against you.
"Do you want me to show you?"
"Yes. Yes, please." You have no clue what he has in mind for you, but it doesn't matter as long as it's him doing it. You would prefer it if it involved his face since this is the one time he has taken off his helmet, but regardless, you're not going to complain. Din shifts on top of you again, kissing you on your mouth and sliding his hand down your front.
"Are you gonna let me kiss you there? Between your legs?"
Your breath hitches at the proposition, your teeth instinctively grazing your bottom lip. He has touched you there before, made you unravel with his skilled hands, but his helmet has made it impossible to do that so far. You don't hesitate for obvious reasons and instead nod over and over again, so rapidly that you're positive Din senses the movement despite the darkness engulfing the two of you.
"Yeah?" he says, the grin tangible in his tone.
"Yes. I would love that."
"I've always wondered what you taste like, loveā¦ You look so pretty down there, and you'reā¦ so soft." He talks like he's already dreaming about putting his mouth on you, though he is still at your lower belly, pressing open-mouthed kisses across your skin which leave wet patches.
"Are you gonna hold my hand, Din?" you whisper before he can dive in, blindly reaching down, but you can only grab air.
"Of course, sweetheart." You feel it, his fingers finding the tips of yours and then tangling them with his.
"Anything you wantā¦ I just wanna make you happy."
"I am already," you laugh quietly, parting your thighs wider as you feel him settle between them, his face on the same level as your wet cunt.
"Well, then I want you to be even happier."
"I don't deserve you," you mutter under your breath, gripping the pillow next to you with your unoccupied hand to brace yourself for whatever his lips on your pussy is going to feel like.
"You're saying you don't deserve meā¦ You and me both know that's not true. You're a goddess. And all I can do is make an effort every single day and hope to at least be worthy of you one day."
"Shut up," you chuckle, lightly squeezing his hand while you feel heat rise in your cheeks.
"I'm just telling the truth, darlingā¦"
You want to reply to him, but whatever you would have come up with catches in your throat as Din encloses your pulsing clit with his lips in that moment.
"Huh. Fuckā¦" you groan and throw your head back, digging your nails in his flesh in a way that must surely be painful for him. But you just can't help it with the small electronic waves undulating in your system, your heartbeat quickening. You need something to hold onto and bury your claws into when the tension becomes overbearing.
"Din," you whimper, rocking your hips forward to show him how much you enjoy his treatment. He has his lips around your bundle of nerves, kissing and sucking it into his mouth while his index finger drags through your folds to play with your wetness. He doesn't push in yet, he just toys with you, keeps you on the edge of your seat, offers additional sensation to the swipes across your clit.
The experience is so new and familiar at the same time. It's like you can feel Din through and through with every single fiber of your being, and it's so unmistakably him, but then again, it has never been like this before. It's good, though. That much you can tell already.
"You taste perfectā¦ So sweet and warmā¦ Even better than I imagined." His voice sounds a little muffled with his head trapped between your thighs, but you can still understand him clearly.
"Feels ā very good."
"Yeah? You like this more than just my fingers?"
You think about his words for a moment, remembering what it feels like to have his thumb press gentle circles into your clit.
"You don't have to decide, princess," Din chuckles deeply and hollows his cheek to apply pressure, then lets the little nub go with a plop.
"I like both. Equally."
"How about this then?" he whispers and begins feeding you two of his digits, his index and middle finger. Since you're properly drenched, it doesn't take a lot of work for him to work them inside, and you only feel a slight sting while your walls opening up welcomingly for him, which Din rewards with a low growl bubbling in the back of his throat.
"Oh," you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way he uses his teeth to carefully nibble at your clit. You don't even know which part to pay attention to, everything is so good, you wish you could preserve the thrill, store it in the back of your mind and come back to it whenever you feel the wish to. It's overwhelming and messy, still you wouldn't want it any other way.
"I wish I could see youā¦" he mutters after a while during a brief break to catch his breath. The fingers thrusting and curling inside you don't come to a stop, though, which continuously causes sweat to gather on your forehead.
"I wish I could see you too, Din," you whine into the darkness, gripping his hand so tightly, you fear you're cutting off his blood flow.
"Fuckā¦ The way you sound, baby. How you say my nameā¦ Just keep saying my name, love, okay?" He dives back in, which doesn't allow you to respond. You can't, given the way your head immediately starts spinning as he draws circles around your clit with his tongue, his spit smeared all over your pussy. You love when he plays with you for so long, there is wetness everywhere, on your thighs, on your lower belly and on his hand and wrist. Now, with his tongue swirling around your clit, he can add even more lubrication by trickling his spit onto you, which you find beyond endearing.
"Din," you squeal, rolling your hips into his face, which he praises with a dark grunt.
"That's it, sweetheartā¦ Just like that. I just want you to feel good, I want you to take anything from me. You're so fucking pretty, so good for me. You taste like honey, darlingā¦ So perfect." His sweet talk, but above all his husky tone, causes you to turn even more feral. Soon, you scratch the back of his hand like a rabid animal, panting heavily while stars dance across your vision.
"Oh fuck. Din, I ā " You want to tell him that you're close, that it might only take one last swipe to push you over the edge, but it takes you another two attempts until you can spill it out.
Din doesn't rush you. He acts like he's willing to spend another two hours between your legs, and that feeling stretches even after you have come down from your thrilling high which has left you gasping for air greedily. By now, your limbs are sprawled out and even your hand still grasped by Din is lifeless and limp.
"Fuckā¦" you sigh and lift your head only to remember that it isn't just your sight that's black but the room is actually darkened.
"How are you feeling, my love?" he murmurs and glides his hand up your thigh without attempting to change his position. He's ready to go for a second round, but for now, you have different wishes.
"Dinā¦" you whimper, threading through his silky hair.
"Yesā¦ Is everything okay? Do you need something?"
"Yes," you groan and gently tug at his strands. "Pleaseā¦ Come here, I ā I want you to fuck me."
Yesā¦ that's it. His weight on top of you, his lips all over your face like before, his cock driving in and out of you. You can't come up with anything more appealing than this imagination.
"You want me to fuck you? Is that right?" he chuckles but follows your request by crawling up to you. The mat tangibly dips under his weight and you feel your skin burn where he touches you instantly. And shit, he touches you everywhere. Your chests are flush against each other, his hips seem to fit against yours perfectly and now his lips are on the curve of your neck where he inhales deeply as if to savor your scent.
"Yesā¦ Please. I need you to be inside me. Deep. I want ā "
You stop again because you feel frustrated all of a sudden. Fuck, you don't know what you want, you just want him in every way there is, you want every version of him, you want him always and all the time and ā most importantly, you don't want him to ever put that mask on again. You know that you're being selfish and insensitive for thinking that way, but this is just your mind, and it's the one place you can allow yourself to feel everything. It's the truth. You wish Din wouldn't touch the helmet again and let you see him from now on. Obviously, you would never ask it of him, you wouldn't even say that thought out loud, but it's how you feel deep inside.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Din asks, sensing the panic resonating in your voice.
"I just ā want you. Please."
"I'm right here, babyā¦" He brings his mouth to yours again, parting his lips to show you just how present he was.
"You feel that, darling? You feel me? That's me burning for you."
At first, you're unsure whether he's talking about his hungry lips, but then you feel a bulge grinding against your thigh. He's rock hard with want.
"Do you want it inside?"
The question is unnecessary in your head, but you know that Din likes to edge you and make you wait just a little longer when you need it the most. It's the only time you think of him as mean, maybe except for when he had a long day and is a little snappier than normal.
"Yes. I want it, Din. I wanna feel you in my belly."
"Naughty girlā¦" he chuckles roughly but guides his tip to your slit as if it has been a command. "I want you to breathe with me, love. Do you hear me breathing?"
He stays silent so that you can listen to him drawing in his heavy breaths.
"Yes."
"Goodā¦ I want you to breathe with me. And relaxā¦ I'm right here, baby. Right here on top of you, and I'm not going anywhere. I'm yours, darling. And I will be forever. I don't even have a choice, because I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life."
Naturally, his words make you tear up, your throat bulging as you swallow.
"I love you."
At his last word, he starts pushing inside you, sliding in effortlessly due to the extensive procedure of preparing you for him. It probably also has to do with the fact that your body is completely at ease as it rarely is. You can't see his face in the dark, but right now, you feel like you do. The contours, at least. But it doesn't matter really because what the two of you have is greater than the dark or that helmet or the distortion of his voice when he speaks to you.
"Din," you whimper, closing your lids as you feel him fill you with his length. He's massive, thick enough to stretch your walls beautifully and long enough to reach deep inside you, right there where you're particularly sensitive.
And he knows. He knows where you need it, where to press firmly and where to treat you with cautious care. He can play your body like an instrument, which is why you pant like a dog minutes after he has started fucking you. His hips crash into yours, his thumb attached to your clit like there's not a single more attractive place to him and his lips showering you with kisses, just as he promised.
"So g-good," you stutter and move your hands over his cheeks, drinking in the feel of him because you know it's something you can't do often. The coarse hair, the wrinkles you trace on his brow, the sweaty temples.
"You feel incredible, princess. So good for me. Feels like your body was only made for meā¦ To be filled by me."
"Mhmā¦ yes," you shriek. At this point, Din has found a steady rhythm, causing your body to jolt up on the mat and your head to be pushed into the cushion below, which you don't mind in the slightest. You're comfortable with the blankets and pillows around you, but most importantly, Din is on top of you, and fuck, he is really set on making you feel wonderful tonight. At one point, he stops while deeply buried inside you, just to give you a moment to experience the fullness.
"Do you like that, baby?" he whispers in your ear, then kisses the corner of your mouth.
"Yes. Yes, Din, so muchā¦ Please."
"Please what?" he asks, sounding genuinely interested to hear what you crave so badly in order to give it to you.
"I want you to cum inside me," you whisper and arch your hips to get closer to him.
You know that Din is going to pump you full of his seed if you ask him. He nearly always does when you demand it, even though both of you know that it isn't the right thing to do. The right thing would be for Din to pull out before he orgasmed and for you to stop putting such ideas out into the open. But sometimes, bad things feel too pleasant to do the right thing, and tonight of all nights, you can't bring up the strength to be tough.
"Anything you want, love," he utters, and you haven't expected anything else. "But first, I want you to cum again. You think you can do that?"
His finger lightly ghosts over your cheekbone before his mouth falls onto yours once more, stealing away your breath and ability to speak. Part of you wonders why he even asks you that if he's going to silence you with his lips anyway, but a larger part just melts into his touch like butter under the sun. You reach your apex moments after that, which takes you by surprise. Like so often, your body betrays you and unravels at an unexpected time, just because Din is making you feel so incredibly good, pressing his thumb into your blazing clit, his cock sliding in and out of you slowly but forcefully.
"Fuckā¦" you whine out, limbs stretching away, which surely must create a rather unnatural and strange view if anyone could have seen it. Something within you explodes for the second time tonight, coating your vision white for a brief second before warmth floods through your veins. A beat after your body and soul have come back together again and you blink away the heaviness on your lids, you realize that Din is a split second away from orgasming as well, which prompts you to drape your arms around his neck and yank him closer to you. Without a word, you kiss him, but you hope he still knows all the things you haven't said from the way you devour him.
"I'm gonna cum, darlingā¦ fuck. Gonna ā fill you up ā Oh shit. Oh shit, oh ā "
His head crashes into your face, his brow resting against your cheek while you feel his warm release overflow your spent pussy. This moment, the skin of his face and yours connected, is so remarkable and special to you, you already know that you're going to hold it close to your heart. Forever. Sure, you hope that this hasn't been the first and last time Din and you turn the lights down in the bedroom so that he can take his helmet off, but this night, the first time he makes love to you with his face revealed, is exceptional.
"Fuckā¦" Din groans, his nose scrunched against the side of your face. "Fuck, the way you took my cum, babyā¦ So perfect. Made for me, like I said earlier. You see how perfectly we fit together? How perfectly your pussy takes me every single time?"
His voice is quiet, so intimate and close that you feel it vibrate on your skin as well as in your chest and stomach and even your thighs.
"Yesā¦ So good ā Din."
By now, you can barely hold your eyes open, which Din hasn't noticed earlier for obvious reasons. But now, given that you are babbling like you are drunk, he exhales gently, which resembles amused laughter.
"Are you sleepy, princess?"
"Yes. So sleepy, Din."
The darkness doesn't help in the slightest, no, it rather makes you feel like you're already in the lands of dreams. Your muscles are languid and heavy, your mind drowsy and your pussy just a little bit sore. Not enough to feel genuinely uncomfortable but enough to wish to spend the rest of the night in Din's arms while he holds you against his chest.
"That's okayā¦ That's okay, love," he coos and rolls off you to tug you closer to his collarbone. "It was a lot todayā¦ But you did so wonderfully. I'm so proud of you. And I'm ā I'm sorry."
The next day, when you try to remember what he has said to you a moment before you have dozed off, you're not sure whether he has actually apologized or if it has happened in your mind.
The part that throws you off is that apologizing didn't quite fit into the conversation because what would he be sorry for? For the staggering orgasm he has just given you? Well, you don't know if he has truly said it, but what you know is that you have been granted heavenly rest after that night.
Like you intended it, you fell asleep with his large body spooning you from behind, ensuring that not a single sheet of paper could fit between your bodies, which fit together so well, like puzzle pieces.
I wanted to write something about Din since the movie just came out, so enjoy this piece of smut :)
Din and you turn the lights in the razor crest off so that you can touch his face for the very first time.
Contains: smut, oral sex (f receiving), kissing, fingering, little bit of edging, praise kink, p in v, dirty talk, unprotected sex, breast play, creampie, gentle and sweet sex, soft!Din, angst, Din takes off his helmet, body worship, implied size difference, they're both a little nervous and shy, vulnerability, fluff, comfort, Din is a gentleman, crying (but in a cute way), established relationship
Wordcount: 6,252
Masterlist
Wanna be on my taglist?
You giggle gently when Din pushes you back, his bare fingers grabbing your waist like it's the only place they have ever belonged.
"You're not gonna back out, are you?" you whisper once he has trapped you between his broad body and the wall of the razor crest. At this point, the need to press your lips against his, to touch his face and trace the mouth you have no idea what it looks like becomes unbearable. Like always when you are with him.
"No. Are you?"
That makes you burst into laughter, though you are not sure why.
You feel drunk. Drunk on him, drunk on his muscular body, drunk on the charged air that hangs heavily around you like dense fog.
"No. Why would I?" you murmur and trail your thumb along the visor of his helmet.
You have grown to love and resent it at the same time. You hate it because it is the only thing separating Din and you, it has taken so much from you and keeps taking more, but then again, it's him. It's part of his identity, whether you like it or not, so you would probably forever glare at that visor and feel like you're staring straight into his soul because you simply have to make your peace with what you have.
"I love you," you mutter, softly biting down on your bottom lip as you feel his grasp tighten on your waist.
"I love you too."
Sometimes, it's strange to let the curtains fall and give him so much while his expression and the depth of his eyes are hidden by his helmet. You doubt that you will ever get used to it, although tonight might change that experience.
His touch is feather light as he slides his hands up your sides, gently caressing the side of your breasts.
"I can't wait to feel you," you breathe, your eyes following the motions of his fingers. In response, one of Din's hands reaches up to cup your face, tilting it up a little. You wait for him to say something because you feel that the gesture has solely served the purpose of looking at you before speaking, but he doesn't, which makes you a tad nervous. After his thumb has tenderly swiped over the corner of your mouth, Din sighs heavily and grabs your wrist with his free hand.
"Iā¦ I'm ready. I think." He presses your hand against his heart, which allows you to feel his thundering pulse. You have always loved to rest your head on his chest, listening to his heart until you have fallen asleep and carrying the steady rhythm across the edge into the dreamlands.
"Okay," you smile, then take two large strides toward the door. You close it without a word but turn toward him while your finger hovers above the light switch.
Your grin is genuine, yet a little uncertain and vulnerable. Why wouldn't it be? What you are about to do requires trust and love, which you share for one another in unbelievable ways. This is just the last manifestation of that love, you feel.
After you have switched off the lights, the room is swallowed in darkness. There is not even the digital display of a clock or any red flashing lights that are somehow connected to the cockpit. No, Din and you have successfully removed any lamps or other sources of illumination from the sleeping place so that the two of you could carry out your plan exactly as you came up with it a few days ago.
"Follow my voice, sweetheart," you hear Din say, his voice still distorted from the helmet. Good. You have told him that you wish to be the one to take it off when the time comes.
Then, you stand in front of him all of a sudden, or at least you can feel the warmth his body radiates prickle on your skin. Your hands come up to rest on the side of his helmet while he places his palms on the small of your back.
"I'm nervous," Din admits quietly. The vocoder makes his voice sound even softer and more intimate, causing a shudder to ripple down your spine.
"So am I," you smile into the dark, standing on your tiptoes to gently kiss the side of his helmet. "But it's gonna be alright."
"I know it is," he murmurs, then drops his hands to the waistband of his pants. "Do you wanna do it? Or ā "
You don't even let him finish with that and immediately begin undoing his pants and quickly yanking them to his knees. It's strange to do it blindly, but fortunately, your hands seem to be magically attracted by his heat and always know where to pull. After he has toed off his shoes and kicked off the piece of clothing, his shirt is next in line. You struggle a lot more with all the countless buttons and buttonholes, which draws a low chuckle from Din after a while.
"Do you need some help, darling?"
"I can do it," you protest and bite down on your lip in concentration, ignoring his teasing tone.
"I know that you can. I could make it faster though."
"Shut up," you scoff and finally slide his shirt off his shoulders, letting it drop on the ground next to him. It's not needed anymore. In fact, you wish it would never be needed again and this moment would never end. The lights would forever be turned off, his body in its purest form forever pressed against yours.
The next thing you feel is Din running a hand from your hip up to your shoulder.
"Can I?" he asks like the gentleman that he is, tracing soothing circles over your skin.
"Yesā¦ Unless you need my help, of course."
He only reacts with a quiet snort and then starts the same process you have just finished with your clothes. You stay still, your lips curved while you feel his hands all over your body, at your waist, your chest, your hips and thighs. Obviously, he does way more than he has to and slides his palms over your flesh long after your skin is already exposed. You don't mind it, of course, even though you can't wait to finally take off that last remaining thing on his body. Well, you have waited for years, which means you can also wait another few minutes. Especially when waiting feels so good with himā¦
When Din feels like he's done, he brushes your hair over your shoulder, making it fall down your back.
"You're really prettyā¦ So pretty, it just ā drives me insane." His voice is hoarse and raspy, and now that the air around you is dark, you're so much more aware of every little noise he produces. All your other senses work better that way, which prompts you to pay more attention to Din's unmistakable scent of peppermint and parchment. Both fresh and grounding.
"Thank you," you whisper and feel your heart rate pick up as your boyfriend leads you to your shared bed, which is just a mat on the floor of the Razor Crest, but over time the two of you have made it a very cozy corner with all those blankets and pillows.
Din sits down with his back against the wall, like the two of you have discussed it. You feel a tad dramatic thinking about how you have gone through every little step even though the two of you have slept together so many times before. Stillā¦ it's different tonight.
"It's weird," he laughs gently while you lower yourself to climb in his lap as elegantly as possible in the dark. "Not seeing you."
"Yeah, wellā¦ Now you know what it's like for me every time," you grin, relaxing the second Din has you securely in his hold and manhandles you on top of him. Your knees are on either side of his hips and your hands are on his helmet at once, lovingly gliding them along the metal. When it's one of the only things of him that is accessible to you, you learn to appreciate it regardless of what a burden it poses in your everyday life. It's him, after all. Even though the material is so much colder and sleeker than his skin.
"I don't know how I would do it. If it was the other way around." Din rubs your naked lower back while his head dips lower, resting against your chest. "I don't know how I could stand not seeing you."
"I don't have a choice, do I?" you murmur and hope he doesn't notice the tremor in your tone.
Tears well in your eyes at his words, not because you're mad at him or disappointed in him but because he has hit a nerve. You don't know how to stand it most nights as well, and these feelings are so complex, you're not sure you are capable of understanding them yourself. How could you possibly try to explain them to him? You love him so much, it hurts not to be able to look into his eyes. And you hate that you can't see him without his helmet, but what is possibly even harder is accepting that there is no one you can channel your anger to. It's not his fault, so all you can do when he apologizes to you is kiss the top of his helmet, tell him that you're not mad at him and mean it. Because you do.
"Thank you," he growls and slides his hands up your spine, pressing you against his frame with so much force, you gasp quietly. "Thank you for ā for doing all this shit. For ā giving me the choice to love. I never ā I never believed it would be an option. So what you're doing to me is the greatest gift I could ever imagine."
You don't answer at once because you fear you might burst into tears if you do. Instead, you bury your hand in the nape of his neck and rub his warm flesh, just feeling and savoring his presence. It's Din, it's the person you love regardless of any night you spend awake, staring at the ceiling and craving things you know you'll never have. It's the man you would sacrifice anything for, the man you quite literally travel through space for. Just to be with him.
"Can Iā¦ Can I do it?" you ask after a while, straightening up to make out his helmet in the dark.
"Yeah, sweetheart. Whenever you feel ready."
The truth is, you have felt ready for months, yet you take another beat, exhaling heavily before your trembling fingers drop to his neck.
"I'm really nervous," you chuckle and swallow hard while you start lifting his helmet.
"So am Iā¦ You don't know how muchā¦"
The helmet is weightier than you have expected it, but it grounds you in some strange way. When you're done, you place it on the floor next to you, careful not to give it a scratch. Everything that follows once you sit upright is more overwhelming and more breathtaking than you could have ever anticipated. It's just a helmet, that's all. It's absolutely ridiculous to be so taken aback just by the fact that he is sitting in front of you without that single item, but you can't help it. Your heart is thumping in your chest, your hands trembling even harder as you put them on his chest.
"Hey." Your voice is breathy and weak, which is no surprise considering you're shaking like a leaf.
"Heyā¦" Din sounds different, though it is still undoubtedly him. Justā¦ a lot clearer and closer than before. Maybe a little deeper as well.
"Iā¦ Can you say my name, Din?"
He does, and it causes a tear to roll down your face, catching on your upper lip. After that, you draw a deep breath and snivel faintly, which prompts him to cup your cheek with his hands and wipe the single drop away.
"Can I touch you?" you ask next, feeling grateful that he doesn't try to comfort you in your tears. It's simply what you need right now, and it feels too good to blink the wetness away. You don't know if his voice attempting to calm your demeanor would cause your tears to dry or only make you cry harder, but you don't want to find out, really. For now, everything is fine, even in spite of the overwhelming emotions you go through, the ups and downs and the helplessness spreading through your system.
"Yes. Wherever you want, darling."
You start at the base of his neck because it feels right to make your way up slowly. Meanwhile, Din's hands settle on your sides, tracing slow patterns but leaving you in control of the pace, the passion of the moment and everything else, which you appreciate. You can take all the time in the world, touch and explore his skin for as long as you want to, and you have a feeling in your gut that it is going to take a long time until you're done.
"Din?" you murmur after a few minutes, your hands lingering just below his chin now.
"Yes."
"Can you ā describe it again?"
"Yesā¦ Of course, sweetheart," he whispers and knows precisely what you want without you having to spell it out.
"I have hair on my face. Not a lot, not very thick hairā¦ But some on my chin. And on my cheeks. And above my mouth."
You nod slowly, not minding that he can't see it.
"And your eyes are brown."
"Yes. They are. So are my eyebrows."
"And your nose?" You shift on his lap a little, moving closer to his chest.
"I don't ā I have no idea how to describe noses, sweetheart."
The two of you laugh in unison, which causes a few tears to drip onto your own wrists. Then, your hands wander up further, and for the first time, you feel his chin beneath your fingers. Obviously, it's impossible to determine what he might look like just from feeling his bones and skin and hair, but you don't care about that right now. As he has told you, there is stiff hair that pokes into your fingertips when you trail your fingers over his beard. When you move them along his jaw, you can detect the end of it close to his ear.
"Careful, darling," Din whispers and squeezes your waist. "Don't hurt yourself. They can sting."
"I don't mind. I like it. That you have hair on your face."
Truthfully, you haven't met many people with beards before. Most people in the small town you grew up in were clean-shaven. You don't know why that is, but there is one thing you know for sure: you really adore what Din's face feels like beneath your touch.
While your boyfriend's palms travel up your thighs, you work your way up his face until you find his nose, which seems broad with a small curve in the bridge. You trace it with your fingertip, then move along his nostrils.
"I like it," you smile broadly, shifting yet another inch closer until your chest is flush with him.
"You like my nose, baby?"
"Yesā¦ I think it's very beautiful."
After you're done with his eyebrows and forehead as well, you lean in and kiss his chin. It's strange to feel his beard tingle against the skin around your mouth, but most importantly, your body is flooded with joy and relief. You can't count how many times you have wished you could cover his face with kisses, his mouth, his cheeks, his chin, nose and forehead, and now, you finally get to do it.
"Din," you whisper, more tears falling from your waterline.
"I know, babyā¦ I know." The charged air stirs as he speaks. You can't help it anymore, you lean in, close the distance and press your lips against his. You have experienced many vast and touching moments in your life, but this one definitely counts as one of the grandest of them all. At first, you forget how to breathe, your lungs forgetting how to work, as though petrified, just like the rest of you.
"Breathe, darlingā¦" Din calms you, noticing your quick, uneven breathing. All you can do is whimper softly, your lips hovering inches above his soft mouth. Everything about him is so incredibly warm and mellow, even the sharp hairs on his chin, if that makes any sense.
"I want ā " you start but don't finish the sentence because you don't know how to express the needs and wants you feel so deep in your stomach.
"I knowā¦ I know, darling. I got you. Do you wanna lay down?"
You nod since you feel that it might be best to give up some control for Din to take the reins. You feel exhausted just from the simple act of holding yourself up in his lap, and your body is still shaking so hard, you wish to just be covered by his wide, muscular shoulders. But there is one thing you demand, one thing you definitely can't go without yet.
"Please kiss me," you mumble while Din carefully flips you over, a knee pressed between your thighs and his body caging you in.
"Whatever you want, sweetheartā¦"
He is so unbelievably cautious and tender with you, it makes you think of yourself as a breakable vase or a glass sculpture. Every single gesture, his hand tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers teasing the swell of your breast as well as his deep, vibrating voice when his mouth hovers close to your ear. He kisses you everywhere, on your chin, on the tip of your nose, on your brow, your hairline, your ear and even your eyelids. That last part makes you giggle so hard, Din joins you, and for a while he just rests on top of you, his face squeezed against your brow as the two of you calm down from your outburst.
"I wanted to do this so badlyā¦ Kissing you. Kissing every part of you, my love. I don't ā I don't even know how I made it so long without it. You're so beautiful, so perfect and I just ā I need to show it to you." He has growled that last sentence against your temple.
Meanwhile, you bury your fingers in the back of his head, twisting the strands around your digits. Dark brown, as you know. At least that is what Din has told you. When you asked him about whether they were curly or straight, he wasn't able to give you a straight answer and said that they were flat after a long day of wearing the helmet but curly right after a shower.
"Please, Din," you beg him and sling your legs around his waist, trapping him against you.
"Do you want me to show you?"
"Yes. Yes, please." You have no clue what he has in mind for you, but it doesn't matter as long as it's him doing it. You would prefer it if it involved his face since this is the one time he has taken off his helmet, but regardless, you're not going to complain. Din shifts on top of you again, kissing you on your mouth and sliding his hand down your front.
"Are you gonna let me kiss you there? Between your legs?"
Your breath hitches at the proposition, your teeth instinctively grazing your bottom lip. He has touched you there before, made you unravel with his skilled hands, but his helmet has made it impossible to do that so far. You don't hesitate for obvious reasons and instead nod over and over again, so rapidly that you're positive Din senses the movement despite the darkness engulfing the two of you.
"Yeah?" he says, the grin tangible in his tone.
"Yes. I would love that."
"I've always wondered what you taste like, loveā¦ You look so pretty down there, and you'reā¦ so soft." He talks like he's already dreaming about putting his mouth on you, though he is still at your lower belly, pressing open-mouthed kisses across your skin which leave wet patches.
"Are you gonna hold my hand, Din?" you whisper before he can dive in, blindly reaching down, but you can only grab air.
"Of course, sweetheart." You feel it, his fingers finding the tips of yours and then tangling them with his.
"Anything you wantā¦ I just wanna make you happy."
"I am already," you laugh quietly, parting your thighs wider as you feel him settle between them, his face on the same level as your wet cunt.
"Well, then I want you to be even happier."
"I don't deserve you," you mutter under your breath, gripping the pillow next to you with your unoccupied hand to brace yourself for whatever his lips on your pussy is going to feel like.
"You're saying you don't deserve meā¦ You and me both know that's not true. You're a goddess. And all I can do is make an effort every single day and hope to at least be worthy of you one day."
"Shut up," you chuckle, lightly squeezing his hand while you feel heat rise in your cheeks.
"I'm just telling the truth, darlingā¦"
You want to reply to him, but whatever you would have come up with catches in your throat as Din encloses your pulsing clit with his lips in that moment.
"Huh. Fuckā¦" you groan and throw your head back, digging your nails in his flesh in a way that must surely be painful for him. But you just can't help it with the small electronic waves undulating in your system, your heartbeat quickening. You need something to hold onto and bury your claws into when the tension becomes overbearing.
"Din," you whimper, rocking your hips forward to show him how much you enjoy his treatment. He has his lips around your bundle of nerves, kissing and sucking it into his mouth while his index finger drags through your folds to play with your wetness. He doesn't push in yet, he just toys with you, keeps you on the edge of your seat, offers additional sensation to the swipes across your clit.
The experience is so new and familiar at the same time. It's like you can feel Din through and through with every single fiber of your being, and it's so unmistakably him, but then again, it has never been like this before. It's good, though. That much you can tell already.
"You taste perfectā¦ So sweet and warmā¦ Even better than I imagined." His voice sounds a little muffled with his head trapped between your thighs, but you can still understand him clearly.
"Feels ā very good."
"Yeah? You like this more than just my fingers?"
You think about his words for a moment, remembering what it feels like to have his thumb press gentle circles into your clit.
"You don't have to decide, princess," Din chuckles deeply and hollows his cheek to apply pressure, then lets the little nub go with a plop.
"I like both. Equally."
"How about this then?" he whispers and begins feeding you two of his digits, his index and middle finger. Since you're properly drenched, it doesn't take a lot of work for him to work them inside, and you only feel a slight sting while your walls opening up welcomingly for him, which Din rewards with a low growl bubbling in the back of his throat.
"Oh," you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head at the way he uses his teeth to carefully nibble at your clit. You don't even know which part to pay attention to, everything is so good, you wish you could preserve the thrill, store it in the back of your mind and come back to it whenever you feel the wish to. It's overwhelming and messy, still you wouldn't want it any other way.
"I wish I could see youā¦" he mutters after a while during a brief break to catch his breath. The fingers thrusting and curling inside you don't come to a stop, though, which continuously causes sweat to gather on your forehead.
"I wish I could see you too, Din," you whine into the darkness, gripping his hand so tightly, you fear you're cutting off his blood flow.
"Fuckā¦ The way you sound, baby. How you say my nameā¦ Just keep saying my name, love, okay?" He dives back in, which doesn't allow you to respond. You can't, given the way your head immediately starts spinning as he draws circles around your clit with his tongue, his spit smeared all over your pussy. You love when he plays with you for so long, there is wetness everywhere, on your thighs, on your lower belly and on his hand and wrist. Now, with his tongue swirling around your clit, he can add even more lubrication by trickling his spit onto you, which you find beyond endearing.
"Din," you squeal, rolling your hips into his face, which he praises with a dark grunt.
"That's it, sweetheartā¦ Just like that. I just want you to feel good, I want you to take anything from me. You're so fucking pretty, so good for me. You taste like honey, darlingā¦ So perfect." His sweet talk, but above all his husky tone, causes you to turn even more feral. Soon, you scratch the back of his hand like a rabid animal, panting heavily while stars dance across your vision.
"Oh fuck. Din, I ā " You want to tell him that you're close, that it might only take one last swipe to push you over the edge, but it takes you another two attempts until you can spill it out.
Din doesn't rush you. He acts like he's willing to spend another two hours between your legs, and that feeling stretches even after you have come down from your thrilling high which has left you gasping for air greedily. By now, your limbs are sprawled out and even your hand still grasped by Din is lifeless and limp.
"Fuckā¦" you sigh and lift your head only to remember that it isn't just your sight that's black but the room is actually darkened.
"How are you feeling, my love?" he murmurs and glides his hand up your thigh without attempting to change his position. He's ready to go for a second round, but for now, you have different wishes.
"Dinā¦" you whimper, threading through his silky hair.
"Yesā¦ Is everything okay? Do you need something?"
"Yes," you groan and gently tug at his strands. "Pleaseā¦ Come here, I ā I want you to fuck me."
Yesā¦ that's it. His weight on top of you, his lips all over your face like before, his cock driving in and out of you. You can't come up with anything more appealing than this imagination.
"You want me to fuck you? Is that right?" he chuckles but follows your request by crawling up to you. The mat tangibly dips under his weight and you feel your skin burn where he touches you instantly. And shit, he touches you everywhere. Your chests are flush against each other, his hips seem to fit against yours perfectly and now his lips are on the curve of your neck where he inhales deeply as if to savor your scent.
"Yesā¦ Please. I need you to be inside me. Deep. I want ā "
You stop again because you feel frustrated all of a sudden. Fuck, you don't know what you want, you just want him in every way there is, you want every version of him, you want him always and all the time and ā most importantly, you don't want him to ever put that mask on again. You know that you're being selfish and insensitive for thinking that way, but this is just your mind, and it's the one place you can allow yourself to feel everything. It's the truth. You wish Din wouldn't touch the helmet again and let you see him from now on. Obviously, you would never ask it of him, you wouldn't even say that thought out loud, but it's how you feel deep inside.
"What is it, sweetheart?" Din asks, sensing the panic resonating in your voice.
"I just ā want you. Please."
"I'm right here, babyā¦" He brings his mouth to yours again, parting his lips to show you just how present he was.
"You feel that, darling? You feel me? That's me burning for you."
At first, you're unsure whether he's talking about his hungry lips, but then you feel a bulge grinding against your thigh. He's rock hard with want.
"Do you want it inside?"
The question is unnecessary in your head, but you know that Din likes to edge you and make you wait just a little longer when you need it the most. It's the only time you think of him as mean, maybe except for when he had a long day and is a little snappier than normal.
"Yes. I want it, Din. I wanna feel you in my belly."
"Naughty girlā¦" he chuckles roughly but guides his tip to your slit as if it has been a command. "I want you to breathe with me, love. Do you hear me breathing?"
He stays silent so that you can listen to him drawing in his heavy breaths.
"Yes."
"Goodā¦ I want you to breathe with me. And relaxā¦ I'm right here, baby. Right here on top of you, and I'm not going anywhere. I'm yours, darling. And I will be forever. I don't even have a choice, because I'm gonna love you for the rest of my life."
Naturally, his words make you tear up, your throat bulging as you swallow.
"I love you."
At his last word, he starts pushing inside you, sliding in effortlessly due to the extensive procedure of preparing you for him. It probably also has to do with the fact that your body is completely at ease as it rarely is. You can't see his face in the dark, but right now, you feel like you do. The contours, at least. But it doesn't matter really because what the two of you have is greater than the dark or that helmet or the distortion of his voice when he speaks to you.
"Din," you whimper, closing your lids as you feel him fill you with his length. He's massive, thick enough to stretch your walls beautifully and long enough to reach deep inside you, right there where you're particularly sensitive.
And he knows. He knows where you need it, where to press firmly and where to treat you with cautious care. He can play your body like an instrument, which is why you pant like a dog minutes after he has started fucking you. His hips crash into yours, his thumb attached to your clit like there's not a single more attractive place to him and his lips showering you with kisses, just as he promised.
"So g-good," you stutter and move your hands over his cheeks, drinking in the feel of him because you know it's something you can't do often. The coarse hair, the wrinkles you trace on his brow, the sweaty temples.
"You feel incredible, princess. So good for me. Feels like your body was only made for meā¦ To be filled by me."
"Mhmā¦ yes," you shriek. At this point, Din has found a steady rhythm, causing your body to jolt up on the mat and your head to be pushed into the cushion below, which you don't mind in the slightest. You're comfortable with the blankets and pillows around you, but most importantly, Din is on top of you, and fuck, he is really set on making you feel wonderful tonight. At one point, he stops while deeply buried inside you, just to give you a moment to experience the fullness.
"Do you like that, baby?" he whispers in your ear, then kisses the corner of your mouth.
"Yes. Yes, Din, so muchā¦ Please."
"Please what?" he asks, sounding genuinely interested to hear what you crave so badly in order to give it to you.
"I want you to cum inside me," you whisper and arch your hips to get closer to him.
You know that Din is going to pump you full of his seed if you ask him. He nearly always does when you demand it, even though both of you know that it isn't the right thing to do. The right thing would be for Din to pull out before he orgasmed and for you to stop putting such ideas out into the open. But sometimes, bad things feel too pleasant to do the right thing, and tonight of all nights, you can't bring up the strength to be tough.
"Anything you want, love," he utters, and you haven't expected anything else. "But first, I want you to cum again. You think you can do that?"
His finger lightly ghosts over your cheekbone before his mouth falls onto yours once more, stealing away your breath and ability to speak. Part of you wonders why he even asks you that if he's going to silence you with his lips anyway, but a larger part just melts into his touch like butter under the sun. You reach your apex moments after that, which takes you by surprise. Like so often, your body betrays you and unravels at an unexpected time, just because Din is making you feel so incredibly good, pressing his thumb into your blazing clit, his cock sliding in and out of you slowly but forcefully.
"Fuckā¦" you whine out, limbs stretching away, which surely must create a rather unnatural and strange view if anyone could have seen it. Something within you explodes for the second time tonight, coating your vision white for a brief second before warmth floods through your veins. A beat after your body and soul have come back together again and you blink away the heaviness on your lids, you realize that Din is a split second away from orgasming as well, which prompts you to drape your arms around his neck and yank him closer to you. Without a word, you kiss him, but you hope he still knows all the things you haven't said from the way you devour him.
"I'm gonna cum, darlingā¦ fuck. Gonna ā fill you up ā Oh shit. Oh shit, oh ā "
His head crashes into your face, his brow resting against your cheek while you feel his warm release overflow your spent pussy. This moment, the skin of his face and yours connected, is so remarkable and special to you, you already know that you're going to hold it close to your heart. Forever. Sure, you hope that this hasn't been the first and last time Din and you turn the lights down in the bedroom so that he can take his helmet off, but this night, the first time he makes love to you with his face revealed, is exceptional.
"Fuckā¦" Din groans, his nose scrunched against the side of your face. "Fuck, the way you took my cum, babyā¦ So perfect. Made for me, like I said earlier. You see how perfectly we fit together? How perfectly your pussy takes me every single time?"
His voice is quiet, so intimate and close that you feel it vibrate on your skin as well as in your chest and stomach and even your thighs.
"Yesā¦ So good ā Din."
By now, you can barely hold your eyes open, which Din hasn't noticed earlier for obvious reasons. But now, given that you are babbling like you are drunk, he exhales gently, which resembles amused laughter.
"Are you sleepy, princess?"
"Yes. So sleepy, Din."
The darkness doesn't help in the slightest, no, it rather makes you feel like you're already in the lands of dreams. Your muscles are languid and heavy, your mind drowsy and your pussy just a little bit sore. Not enough to feel genuinely uncomfortable but enough to wish to spend the rest of the night in Din's arms while he holds you against his chest.
"That's okayā¦ That's okay, love," he coos and rolls off you to tug you closer to his collarbone. "It was a lot todayā¦ But you did so wonderfully. I'm so proud of you. And I'm ā I'm sorry."
The next day, when you try to remember what he has said to you a moment before you have dozed off, you're not sure whether he has actually apologized or if it has happened in your mind.
The part that throws you off is that apologizing didn't quite fit into the conversation because what would he be sorry for? For the staggering orgasm he has just given you? Well, you don't know if he has truly said it, but what you know is that you have been granted heavenly rest after that night.
Like you intended it, you fell asleep with his large body spooning you from behind, ensuring that not a single sheet of paper could fit between your bodies, which fit together so well, like puzzle pieces.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
[ people change over the years, but something about him was always consistent. ] -> din djarin x original female character. wc: 2.3k. written in gia's point of view. masterlist.
before you read: canon typical violence. takes place in season one, episode 4 of the mandalorian.
pure beskar armor was a rare sight to see.
beskar was scarce, and costly, from years of overmining, and with conflicts on mandalore and on their moon, beskar was rare. the sight of it was a surprise, but a very pleasant one.
beskar was shiny. it was durable. and because of it's history, it had it's own reputation. beskar was something that many coveted, wanting to have it to themselves. gia always thought that something like beskar should be given back to the mandalorian people; as it was in their right to keep their traditions alive, but it seemed not many in the galaxy agreed with that.
mandalorians were rare. but that didn't mean they had ceased to exist.
she thought of beskar like the royal headpieces and gowns back on naboo, and how many credits people would pay to get their hands on some sort of rare treasure like those, but buyers wouldn't always have any understanding of it's importance. with her hands keeping busy, working on carving the snippet of wood, she deduced that all creatures, whether conscious of it, or not, would always seek out something that gave them some sort of purpose. something worth fighting for.
the mandalorian beside her is not exempt from this, though she knows he would not verbally admit it, as he cleaned his blaster and watched the child. the little one decided to amuse himself by chasing frogs, his little squeaks of delight as he ran (perhaps, waddled was the right term?) were quite endearing. she paused from her carving to watch the child with fond eyes.
initially, the child had watched her, wary and quiet while they traveled to sorgan, but accepted dried fruit from her when she offered, even cooing softly in a way that reminded her of a thank you. she didn't understand the unspoken bond between the child and mando- nor did she pretend to know what it was, only that it was of great importance. though she hadn't seen the mandalorian in many years, this was that hidden side of him, that he wouldn't readily show anyone, but she knew it was there. the same part of him that saved her from a fate that she couldn't escape on her own, now in the present, protecting someone else, who couldn't do so.
it was an admirable trait, one that she respected. her respect for him grew even deeper while she watched him try to navigate caring for the small one, clumsily and unsteadily learning as he went. with the little experience gia had, she couldn't be much help; star charts and planetary histories were her forte, but she tried to help as much as she could. luckily the little one had usually been playing with the children in the village, choosing to chase frogs in front of her and the mandalorian when it was late in the afternoon.
one of the frogs hopped away, gia had seen it from the corner of her eye. the little one eyed it from where he was standing, inching closer to it, but sneaking little glances at the two adults with him, seeing if they would help him. she set her materials down to watch what the child would do.
"do you want it?" she asked the child. the little one looked up at her expectantly, and nodded. gia glanced at the mandalorian, who only shrugged at her, then looked back at the child. "go get it." she tilted her head towards the frog, and the child pounced, somehow managing to fit the frog in his mouth, scarfing it down as if he hadn't eaten.
next to her, the mandalorian sighed. gia stifled her laughter with her hand, the child's round eyes crinkling up in happiness and pride as he successfully "captured" his "bounty."
"that was very impressive! maybe we should find you another frog to catch..."
"don't encourage him."
the woman who graciously lent her home to them to stay in, was named omera, and her daughter, winta, quickly became the child's best friend. gia decided she liked omera as soon as she met her. omera was wonderful, she was kind and warm, and so incredibly considerate. gia found her presence comforting. and it seemed, so did mando.
mando had talked, gia realized. truly had a conversation with another person, and he'd enjoyed it too, with the way his shoulders had relaxed afterwards. it brought a peace to gia's heart knowing how much more humanity he had after coming to sorgan, the stress of his worries about everything not taking so much of a toll on him. it was nice. and while mando acted as the bodyguard to protect the village, along with his other friend, gia had jumped at the opportunity to meet with other villagers, and to help them with their farming.
it was helpful to gia to stay busy, and by learning from others would help her with the records she'd been making of every planet she'd visited. as she worked and socialized, the mandalorian's t-visor would follow, watching as she assisted the other villagers, learning their stories, and teaching them of other worlds. "just for good measure", he'd said when she caught him.
it was peaceful there, but with every light, came a shadow.
the village depended on krill farming, the population not very large, but there were numbers of people surviving, despite being attacked by klatooinians. surviving, because every day they were at risk of another raid. gia could hardly believe it.
"..their people are being killed, and resources are being stolen." gia shook her head as she sat on the loaned bed at omera's house. "they can't defend themselves."
the child had fallen asleep in the crib, and mando was busy attending to his weapons maintenance (again. it was almost like he was too nervous to hold conversation with her, or something along those lines, because he would always be focused on something else every moment they were alone).
"cara and i are protecting them." it was matter of fact, but there was much more to consider.
"and what happens if you and cara leave, and the raids continue? the villagers have to learn how to protect themselves." gia reasoned, knowing from experience how dangerous it was to believe in something that could change rapidly. empires collapsed. terrain could be altered. materials would break down, and people don't stay the same as they were before. "we can't leave them to their own defenses without teaching them how."
he sighed. it was like he was wrestling with the idea in his mind, something he had already been considering. it could be dangerous. but it was even more dangerous to let things continue the way they were. mando stood up from where he'd been sitting by the fire, his armor glinting from the flame, draping a blanket over her shoulders. gia straightened up. "...rest up. i might need your help when i teach the villagers how to fire a blaster."
gia smiled in relief. "thanks, mando." he nodded.
(later, when she'd made note of it, she decided to ask him why he kept working on his gear despite already having done several times that day. the only answer he could give was "preparation".)
a few weeks into their hiding in sorgan, after taking out the raiders and successfully driving away the bandits, entirely on accident, gia hears a conversation that makes shame build in her bones for hearing it.
it's not that it was intentional; the little one had gone off to play with the children in the village, and she'd just returned from foraging some ingredients in case they needed food on the go. mando and cara, (who gia found intimidating, but refreshing company) spoke in quiet tones overlooking the village.
"...so you can slip off the helmet, and settle down with that beautiful young widow, and raise your kid sitting here, sipping spotchka?"
gia froze. that wasn't something she was supposed to hear at all. whatever relationship mando and omera had, was not any of gia's business. lingering glances and private conversations were between the two of them, and the two of them alone, but that wasn't what got her attention the most. no... it was about his helmet.
gia had asked him once, long ago, why he couldn't remove his helmet. he didn't look at her then, instead choosing to speak, staring out towards the gatalenta sunset.
"it would be like insulting the maker, and still expecting them to reward you."
gia had frowned at that. "i think insulting the maker would certainly be a quick end, but nothing bad would truly happen to you... would it?"
"no." he said. "but the shame would surely burn me alive."
"you know, we raised some hell here a few weeks back. it's too much action for a backwater town like this." mando said it with such restraint, but to gia, it didn't seem like he truly believed it. "word travels fast. we might wanna cycle the charts and move on."
"would not wanna be the one who's gotta tell them." cara said.
"i'm leaving them here."
gia couldn't stay inside after he said that. she left the house quickly, her feet working faster than her mind, taking her somewhere somewhere, her mind racing. he was going to leave them here? the child, she understood. he was in danger, and it wasn't safe for him. staying secluded was his best shot, but in just a short time, gia couldn't bear the thought of separating the little one from mando. the kid adored mando, and while it was noble, it would have broken his heart.
she found herself in the fields, away from the village, staring out into the open, strangely, and inexplicably confused. she enjoyed life on sorgan. she loved the villagers, and watching the child play freely. the villagers wanted them to stay, thinking of them as part of their village. but a part of her felt like staying was wrong too. staying meant that she would be entirely stuck. no way out, a stagnant lifestyle- one that she was unwilling to return to. but it wasn't just the thought of being left behind that bothered her. there had to be more to it, though she couldn't understand it.
maybe it was how quickly he'd said it. or how he hadn't even considered asking her first. or it might have been the fact that gia had waited years just to find him, only for him to leave her on a planet again, but this time, with no way out.
deep in her thoughts, she didn't realize mando coming up behind her.
"gia."
she turned around to meet him face to face, hoping the worried expression wasn't evident. years of her profession had made her neutral face more natural, easier to keep, but she felt rigid in ways that she couldn't hide.
sighing, he spoke. "... you understand why i can't stay here." stupidly, she nodded.
"i can't risk bringing the two of you with me. you'll both be safer here." he was trying to reason with her, and for a moment, it almost started working, until she steadied herself and shook her head. "no. no way-"
"gia, you'll be put into danger-"
"i will never not be in danger, mando. there is not a single moment where i won't be in danger." she held his gaze. "but it's a small price to pay if it means someone else's life can be protected, especially someone who can't protect himself."
for a moment it was still between them, so many things they could have said. he could have countered her. she could have let everything come spilling out, but the sound of blaster fire had gia behind mando's back in an instant, shielding her from any immediate danger, his hand taking hold of her shoulder, keeping her from getting any closer. his hand was warm, but gia felt as though a cold hand gripped her heart and froze her entire being.
"mando-"
"go get the kids." gia needed no further instructions before she was running, trying to make sure the children weren't harmed, or even the child. omera and other parents were already there, embracing their children, checking on others, and as soon as gia saw the child, his little hands reaching up to her instinctively, she dropped to her knees and held onto him. shakily, she examined him, finding no trace of an injury on him.
"are you alright?" omera asked gia, seeing how tightly she was cradling the child. gia nodded, looking down at the child. his round eyes met hers and he whined softly. eventually she stood, keeping him in a protective hold, finding mando, who needed only to see her with the child in her arms, wordlessly understanding his thoughts.
we need to go.
the child was quiet as they left sorgan. so quiet, that gia hadn't realized he had fallen asleep on her. his pram wasn't very padded, she'd made note of it. finding the old scarlet cloak was a surprise to her, but she figured it would make a better blanket for the child to sleep on, rather than catching more dust. once he was off in dreamland, she climbed up to the cockpit of the ship, she took in the view behind mando.
"would you have stayed?"
he didn't turn to answer her. "no."
the answer didn't surprise her. finding a blanket on the seat for her already, she made herself comfortable, and strapped herself in. "that life... it's not for me."
gia didn't ask him to elaborate further. "i can understand that." not pressing for more. simply understanding.
he didn't speak after that, just put in new coordinates after consulting the map gia had been reworking; sorgan as the new addition, labeled with a pleasant green to signify that it was safe enough to return to, someday. the glow of the map reflected onto mando's beskar helmet, and gia fought the urge to smile despite all the chaos.
beskar was shiny. he was shiny.
and gia found that it suited him very well.
author's note: this really is my passion project, because i have never ever written 2.3k words for any fandom before. when i started writing star wars fanfics in middle school, i couldn't even get up to 1k, so i guess i must be locked in. i hope you enjoyed if you made it this far, and leave a like or reblog, or comment if you did !
Din is a himbo and my OC Atelo is a bit of an airhead when it comes to love but you bet when theyāre finally together they gush over each other like crazy š
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
Listen I love angst that focuses on two people who clearly care about each other but because of their own issues just wonāt get together,
Atelo cries easily and she hates seeing him get hurt. Din however sees it as a usual part of his life and is surprised to see that someone now cares so much about his wellbeing, But he realises that its not something he should get attached to because once Grogu has been returned to a Jedi that means Atleo goes too, and heāll be alone again.
And Atelo straight up doesnāt think heād ever love her in that way lmao
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
ā Live Streamingā Interactive Chatā Private Showsā HD Qualityā Free Actions
Free to watch ā¢ No registration required ā¢ HD streaming
i will never forget how the mandalorian fandom treated omera in 2019 & 2020, saying that she tried to take mando's helmet off by force when he gave her consent to touch it š
i hope to see her this season or the next season to come, she only appeared in one episode and was never mentioned again, not even sorgan š
for sure there is more to explore between their relationship and i hope we get more content about them š
stormborns
blakekathryn
gummygunk
pixelskylines
romaincrisis
yousharknotpass
prguitarman
