#omgreally

E18+, MINORS DNI!

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you are the oscar to my pedro. The frankie to my pope. the weird fashion choices to my pascal. the nicolas cage to my javi gutierrez. THE WIND BENEATH MY WINGS. Just saying, for the record. I would testify in a court of aww. ♥

@omgreally I love them😄

“What are you doing?”

“Looking at you.”

@omgreally

So he doesn’t. Instead, he reaches up, feeling Tavi still against him as he gets a thumb beneath the rim of his helmet and lifts it away. He sets it aside on her workbench and looks down, finally, to meet her eyes.

This time, she’s not shy. He knows he should be uncomfortable with the way her gaze searches his face; he knows he should be ashamed and disgraced and wrong - but against everything he believes, there is what he feels , and it does not feel wrong.

“I missed you,” he says, his raw, unfiltered voice rougher without the vocabulator when he is trying for softness. But Tavi doesn’t flinch. Instead, she reaches up, and Din pulls his bottom lip back tight against his teeth to still the tremble as her fingers land on his chin.

“I missed you too,” she says.

Kissing her is like the moment after a fight when the foe lies defeated and the adrenaline of triumph sings in his veins; it is the comfortable chair in a quiet cockpit as the stars slide by; it is a freshly-oiled blaster in his belt; it is the shine of pure Beskar in his hands. It is like coming home.

Her nose bumps into his and it takes a moment to find the perfect angle to fit their lips together but once they do, he wastes no time in begging entrance to her mouth. She opens, breathless and needy for him, and he lifts a hand to the back of her head, curling her braid around his fist for leverage as he touches her tongue with his.

She tastes like sweat and smells like ozone and oil, a scent he inhales greedily, because it is hers. He devours her mouth desperately, hungrily, and she gasps beneath the onslaught, her eyes closed and her fingers tucked in the front of his bandolier for balance. His tongue swipes long, slow stripes against her bottom lip, licks into her mouth, drinking her in.

Excerpt from Chapter 24 of Set in Stone by @omgreally

Artist Comissioned: @glossierghost

Pairing: Din Djarin/OC

Rating: E

Word Count: 77K

When you are in plenary and the FACILITATOR doesn’t know about the interpreters who are just meters away and is like “I don’t know if anyone can translate this person’s question”

and you’re in the booth like

art by @thepoisonofgod, dividers by @firefly-graphics​

The Mandalorian, Narcos, Triple Frontier and other fanfiction by @omgreally​

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E18+, MINORS DNI!

“Stay?”

Her unseeing eyes are dark Krill pools at midnight, the bottom of a cup of hot spotchka, the coals at the base of a crackling fire, the open expanse between the stars; comfort he’s refused to allow himself for so long. And, standing above her, Din hesitates.

“Please.”

He takes her hand in his own and squeezes softly, lifting it from his arm. The disappointment on her face is plain, tempered by acceptance. She says nothing - only nods, letting go and sinking back down. She rolls onto her side away from him, closing her eyes.

And that - her quiet acquiescence, untempered by protest, by argument or reason, wholehearted in its totality - is what makes the last thread of Din’s frayed, worn self-control snap.

He removes his vambraces first, his eyes on her back. He sees her shoulders tense at the soft sound of metal on metal, but she doesn’t move, not even when he takes off his bandolier, his belt, and lifts his cuirass over his head.

The helmet stays on. For now.

-

from set in stone by @omgreally

Pairing: Din/OC

Rating: E