I Have Two Things I'm Supposed To Hear From Tomorrow So Fingers, Toes, And Eyes Crossed!!

More details I found looking at his page: He works as a cnc designer professionally for biomedical and aerospace industries and he designed and manufactured this himself. None of the eyes he’s made (he’s made MANY!) are 3D printed, they’re machined, medical grade titanium so they don’t get hot from the LED and are safe to use as a prosthetic. He wants to make them for other people at some point, but says he has a lot of research and development to do before that can happen.

One advantage of not really having a strong sense of gender identity is that you’re very [shrug emoji] about how people gender you. Sometimes people call me by she/her pronouns and sometimes they go with he/him pronouns and on the internet people often default to they/them, and neither option is entirely right but also, fuck if I know what would be right, and I don’t particularly care. Therefore I’m perfectly happy to outsource my gender identity to the people around me who actually need to figure out which box to put me in. I don’t need to talk about myself in third person, so really my pronouns sound like a you problem.

Howdy, I'm new here!

So that means I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing cause I'm #old but I'll figure this site out eventually. In the meantime, hi! I'm coming out of fanfiction retirement mostly in the Star Wars community for now, specifically for the Mandalorian. I've only written two fics so far but once I get cozy in my new home and figure out this and the app, I'm excited to hype up other writers and space dad fans!

-Billie

Mandalorian Fandom P.S.A.

Just a reminder to everyone out there that claiming Mando's name is Djarin Din is very Euro-centric and until Dave and John confirm what is and is not a surname for our favorite Himbo Dad, it's extremely unfair to say what is and is not canon regarding his name when it's colonizing a space that's meant to be safe for everyone. If you WANT to call him by either or and that's your headcanon, that's fine, but I'm getting real tired of seeing fellow non-white/Euro based friends getting shut down for sticking with Din and inviting immature fans into their safe spaces to peacefully educate them. Ya'll, do better.

So you're telling me my Texan drawl is the OG British? Fuck me I got them original colonizer way of speaking.

at what point in history do you think americans stopped having british accents

Din stans angry that he no longer has the Darksaber is so funny because do you not know the character at all? He never wanted it. The amount of times people project their own wants onto a character and then get mad when they don’t get what they wanted, completely disregarding the actual wants of the character or what would actually make sense. If any of you genuinely thought Din wanted to rule Mand’alor you’re kidding yourselves and you should reevaluate how well you understand his character.

Day 2: Keep Me Close (Cockwarming)

Kinktober 2022 Masterlist

Set between the First and Second Season of The Mandalorian

Pairing: Din Djarin x GN!Reader

Summary: When guilt strikes, the reader takes it upon herself to remind Din that there will always be ways to enjoy one another's presence even after a long and tiring day.

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: established relationship, unprotected sex, fluff and smut paired with hurt and comfort

Word Count: 1501

You knew when you had signed up to be a scout, life would become immensely difficult. It took a certain soul to chart the stars for new hyperspace routes, explore unknown planetary regions, and navigate virgin patches of new worlds that many have seen but few have ever touched whether out of fear for Wild Space or respect for what may or may not be out there. 

You knew when you had agreed to follow the Mandalorian and his green ward into the Unknown Regions on their own journey that life would become complicated. The toughness of your job translated over to his well enough to where any violence rarely caught you off guard, and your knowledge and skills paired with the warrior’s upbringing were a complimentary mess of blaster residue and star drafts.

You weren’t sure when it had started or how, but the feelings you didn't even know you had for The Mandalorian metamorphosed into something deeper somewhere between the cantina fights and never-ending nights on undocumented planets. Somewhere along the way, the stars you were hired to chart had found their way into the reflection of the warrior's armor. And somewhere along the way, caught up in staring at the blinking lights twinkling in beskar, you had looked up to find the visor in which the universe the stars belonged to stared back. 

Gentle touches, lingering stares, and hushed voices deep into the night on backwater planets and in the hull of The Crest filled your heart with a love you thought had been reserved only for your family and work. Your first time together had been a heated moment where clothes were shifted enough to get the job done, but later the warrior treated you to hours of the most tender sex under a bright moon while the child slept safely aboard the ship. 

You knew your relationship with the Mandalorian was going to be complicated, but you hadn’t predicted how immensely difficult it would be to keep up between being full-time parents to Grogu, picking up jobs to feed the three of you, and balancing two different careers despite living aboard the same ship. 

The tender moments you had at the budding of your relationship were still there, but spaced out due to bad timing and exhaustion. When you had a moment to yourselves, it was almost overwhelming trying to decide how to spend that moment. Do you get lost in each others' bodies? Nap? Spend time together alone that didn’t involve dirty cantinas or shootouts or patching up wounds? 

Regardless, exhaustion always won out and you’d sleep long and deep knowing the world was on pause. Even if it was for just for a few hours. But you missed Din. And you could feel the same ache he had with you, but tailored with guilt and remorse for breaking unspoken promises and expectations. The weight of the galaxy sat on his broad shoulders, and any verbal attempt to reassure him fell on distracted ears. 

The bounty Din was currently hunting was supposed to take two, maybe three days tops. But when nearly two weeks rolled by, stretched thin like your worry for the man, you couldn’t help but fear the worst. It was in those moments that doubt and guilt weighed down on your own shoulders, wondering if your relationship demanded too much of him when life already demanded enough as is.

You were on your feet the moment the ramp hissed and lowered itself, the relieved sigh you let out taken back when you witnessed just how exhausted your warrior was. His stride was slow as if he were wading through thick mud and not up the flat incline to his ship. His shoulders were somehow both lifted in stress and drooping with fatigue, and he had very little care for the unconscious body he dragged behind him. 

You didn’t miss the way his body wavered after throwing the quarry into the carbonite chamber, or the sway in his steps as he made his way over to Grogu’s pram and gently stroked his sleeping son’s ear before turning to you. You didn't miss how his head nearly dropped as he lowered his helmet to your forehead in a keldabe kiss, or the weakness in his grip as his hands rested on your hips. 

You could feel the fatigue, the frustration, the guilt, and the shame rolling off of him in waves; in the weakened way his hands tightened on your hips and how he’s stubbornly ignoring his body to try to show you an ounce of the affection he had for you. Your heart ached for this man.

You gently pried his hands off of your hips and led him to his bunk, guiding him to sit. Din lifts his hands as if to find your hips again but you gently swat them away, opting to take off his armor piece by piece instead. You ignored the way Din stared, and you refused to answer the unspoken question that weighed heavily in the air. You took each piece of beskar off as if it were your own, showing the metal the respect it both deserved and earned for keeping Din alive all these years.  

When the armor was off, sans helmet, you kneeled in front of Din and used your shoulders to spread his legs open. Your hand found his crotch and you gently rubbed at it through his flight suit, the other hand untying the laces of his boots and sliding them off, not once allowing your eyes to stray from his helmet. When he was hard under your hand and his boots and socks were off, you stood, ignoring the way your knees popped. 

You reached out to Din just as he had and found the hidden zippers in his suit, peeling off the layers until The Mandalorian before you revealed the man underneath the armor. A strong body of flesh marred with scars and softened with age, a body you knew every inch of intimately. Your eyes grazed over his body and landed on his now hard member, leaking and red and asking for attention. 

With a roll of your shoulders, you slipped off your own clothing with far less grace than you had reserved for Din's armor and reached out to the man once you were as naked as he was. With one knee on the bunk, a shaky hand rested on your belly. You clasped your hand over Din's, rubbing soothing circles into the skin. Despite his state of arousal, you hadn't noticed the way his body curled slightly with insecurity and that same exhaustion that had been plaguing him for far too long. 

"Meshla, I... I'm sorry, I can't, I-... I'm so tired..." Din's helmet tilted away and the way his voice cracked at the end broke your heart. You patted his hand and brushed it aside, the limb sliding down and falling to the bunk with little fight.

"It's okay, Din. I'm not asking that of you. Not tonight. I just want to remind you that you'll always have me and that I just want to be as close to you in any way I can. Okay?"

"Okay," his voice croaked after a pause.

You climbed into the bunk with him, encouraging him further in until his feet were safely in the confines of the sleeping quarters. Once satisfied that his comfort was met, you positioned yourself over his erection and slid down. Din's moan was deep and long, your own fingers splaying on his chest rumbled with the sound deep in his chest. You dragged your fingers down to his stomach right above the base of his cock, then up again in a soothing way that had Din replacing his moan with a longing sigh. A sound you missed dearly.

Ensuring he was tucked deep in your core, you shifted and sprawled yourself over the man like a blanket, burying your face into his chest. Din's arms wrapped around you a moment later and you didn't put up a fight when he rolled the two of you onto your sides, hiking your leg over his hip and burying his helmet into your neck. Once satisfied your comfort was met, Din wrapped his arms tightly around you and squeezed you close to where you weren't sure where you started and he ended. But you wouldn't trade that for the world.

Being a scout was hard, and being the partner of a Mandalorian was difficult, but it was all worth it to be close to the man who had given you a home to return to and a family you had always wanted. You knew one-day things will slow down, that your jobs won't demand as much and Grogu will be returned to his kind. But until then, you're happy to take and give what you can, and enjoy the warm moments of closeness that not even Wild Space or cantina shootouts could ever take away from you. 

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Ah, yisssss day 2 is complete. I think I can post one or two more in the next 24 hours but I'm slowly catching up. Days may be switched, and to be inclusive these kink prompts will be friendly to readers who are/were AFAB, AMAB, or gender-neutral.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

The symbolism of the Mythosaur sleeping beneath the Living Waters on Mandalore just as the leader within Din is still sleeping, ready to be freed and to lead their people to freedom