The Mando Roll
(A Safest with You Valentine’s Day Special)
1.6K / Modern AU Retired Mob Enforcer!Din Djarin x fem!reader
Summary: You and Din have a low-key Valentine’s Day.
Warning: None! Mainly fluffy although things get suggestive, lingerie, impractical boxing attire, new/established relationship, pet names as usual (Pretty bird, baby, etc.), description of and made up boxing moves by a person that knows nothing about boxing (me)
A/N: Happy Valentine’s Day, my loves! (If you celebrate that is, otherwise Happy Wednesday!) Can be set anytime after Ch. 10 "The Afterglow", or in any future year of the relationship. Don't worry if you don’t read Safest with You - you can read this on its own, just know that Din used to be a boxer when he was younger and now he’s a retired mob enforcer that owns a boxing gym 🥊Kisses to you all! 😘
Series Masterlist
Reaching into the oven with both mitts, you pull out the pie and inspect it before setting it on the cooling rack. Once you’ve satisfied yourself with the golden-brown colour of the crust and confirmed your heart shaped cutouts on the top crust have maintained their shape, you take off your apron to get ready to go.
With this year’s Valentine’s Day falling in the middle of the week, you and Din agreed not to do anything extravagant as you both needed to work most of the day. Committing to celebrating in a lowkey manner, you also agreed that no money would be spend on gifts, but you were each allowed to ask the other person for one present.
Din had asked for a cherry pie. You love that Din has a sweet tooth and try to indulge it as often as you can; while prepping the dough and organizing the ingredients for the pie filling the previous evening, you had baked some extra strawberry strudels to bring to him today as well. You figured if you said they were for the gym and he would have to share them, it wouldn’t technically break the one gift rule.
After you and Din had enjoyed a quick but delicious meal that you picked up on your way over after work, he headed back downstairs to the gym for the closing shift, and you had begun your work on his pie. You’re fairly pleased that the baking of the pie has been perfectly timed to the closing of the gym, so you don’t have to wait any longer before meeting Din and collecting your present.
Dressed in your own custom set of Mando’s warm up gear, you head downstairs. The grey zip up jacket and tear away pants with ‘Mando’s Gym’ emblazoned on the back are the same as the ones the boxers from the gym wear, save for the embroidery on the front that reads “Alfredo’s Mom”; Din had given it to you earlier in the week, saying it was technically part of the one gift you asked for so it didn’t break any rules. You had decided to let it slide since you already knew you were baking the extra strudels, but you had a sneaking suspicion that Din wasn’t going to stick with the one present/no money rule, and you had been right. Working on your laptop, chipping away at your inbox, you were delighted when a gorgeous bouquet of peonies had arrived at your office; a breathtaking arrangement made up of three different shades of pink that put the flowers you had received from the girls earlier in the day to shame. The card simply said, “To my pretty bird” but you knew who it was from. You love flowers, and Din knows this, so you weren’t upset with the extra gift, but you knew you had to even it up with a sneaky present of your own.
Din is waiting for you in the empty gym, sitting on the edge of the boxing ring, flashing you his devilishly handsome smile, “Are you ready, pretty bird?” Nodding, you jog over to him and mime a few punches, making him laugh. When Din had asked you what you wanted for Valentine’s Day, without missing a beat you had said, “Teach me the Mando Roll.” Multiple people have mentioned it to you as the boxing move that Din had made famous during his career, and even though you’re still a novice when it comes to all things boxing, you’ve had a deep longing to know this particular move better; to intimate yourself with this thing that’s so closely associated with Din.
Din gently and lovingly wraps your hands and helps you put your gloves on; it takes longer than you think it should because he keeps stopping to kiss your hands, “Is this how you wrap all of your boxers’ hands?” you tease.
“Maybe,” Din shoots back with a grin.
“Making me jealous. Remind me to have little chat with Jimmy,” you counter right back, grinning big.
Helping you up into the ring, Din starts you off with a few light drills to get you used to him calling out the punches. Right hook, jab, jab, jab, cross punch, left hook, upper cut, upper cut, jab, left hook, right hook, cross punch. Every time your gloves make contact with the pads he’s holding up, he praises you, encourages you to hit harder and when you do, he calls out “Good girl!” Your heart explodes with affection and you get warm all over. After the punches, he teaches you the basic defense moves: slipping, bobbing and weaving. When he accidentally makes contact with your head with the side of his pad when you don’t duck fast enough, your training session is temporarily put on pause for him to lovingly dispense hugs and kisses to your head.
“You do this to your other boxer too, coach?” you joke.
“Maybe,” Din smiles wide, glad you’re not hurt.
“Ok, I’m poisoning their muffins next week,” you scrunch up your face in mock fury. Adorable, thinks Din.
Finally, it’s time for the Mando Roll. The Mando Roll was a move Din would use to tire out his opponent while simultaneously disorienting them into not knowing if they were on the offensive or defensive. He would deploy it when the opposing boxer was on the offensive; Din would bob and weave, alternating outside and inside bobs, evading his attacker’s punches, and once his opponent thought he could predict where Din would emerge, Din would punctuate that weave with a powerful punch. Any punch would do but Din tended to favour a hard cross punch. You practice this sequence slowed down: you bobbing and weaving under Din’s outstretched arm, then at a time of your choosing, adding in a hit when you pop up. On your fourth go around, you clip Din in the chin with an uppercut and he deems you ready to try it in real time, a devilish glint in his eye. You decide this is a good time to even the odds and give Din his secret present all at once.
“Hang on, it’s hot,” you breathe and start unzipping your Mando’s jacket. When you take it off, Din’s jaw goes slack – no t-shirt underneath, you wearing only a pink and peach satin and lace bralette, perfectly molded to your tits while showing off your soft curves. In the front, there’s a big pink bow in the centre, completing the picture of you wrapped up like a present, ready to be gifted. You smirk at him and his drooling as you slowly tear away the Mando’s gym pants, revealing a matching pair of lace trimmed shorts.
“There,” you exhale in a dramatic manner, “much cooler.”
“Doesn’t feel cooler,” mutters Din.
You tap your gloves together, bouncing on the balls of your feet, “Okay, let’s go.” Din has to bite down on his lip to keep his tongue from rolling out of his mouth as he stares at your jiggling breasts.
Boxing is fun, you giggle as you watch Din try to keep it together.
Swing. Duck. “You’re not fighting fair, pretty bird.”
Inside bob. “You’re a nine-time weight division champion. I have to use what assets I have to even the playing field.”
Jab. Duck. Outside bob. “Your assets are distracting. They’re playing dirty.”
To this, you shift your weight from one foot to the other, side to side, making sure your tits and ass sway along with your body. Din audibly groans, “Keep you hands up, baby.”
You put your gloves up as you and Din circle each other, dancing, “I thought you might consider this a gift.”
Cross punch. Duck. Inside bob. “You’re only allowed one gift, baby, and you baked me a pie.”
You duck Din’s lightening fast jab and when you bob to the outside you attempt an uppercut that Din slips easily, “You sent me flowers!”
Swing. Duck. Inside bob. “You brought those strawberry strudels, sweetheart. You broke the rules, too.”
Jab. Duck. Outside bob. “You broke them first when you gave me the personalized warm up suit.” Cross punch. Duck. “Which I love, by the way. Thank you, Din.”
Inside bob. “My pleasure, pretty bird. You look good in Mando’s gear.”
Jab. “Don’t I look good out of Mando’s gear, too?”
Duck. “You know you do, baby.”
When you go to bob to the outside again, one of the straps of your bralette starts to slip down your arm, pulling the flimsy triangle cup along with it. Din, captivated by the downwards journey of the fabric and what it’s revealing of your breast, doesn’t notice that you pair this last weave with a cross punch and it stuns him when your glove lands right on his jaw.
“Din!!!” you cry as he staggers back, scrambling over to him and throwing your gloved hands around his head to look at where you hit him, “I’m so sorry, baby! Are you okay?”
To your relief, Din is beaming, “You did so good, pretty bird. A perfect Mando roll.”
You swell with pride at his praise, and lift up onto your tip toes to kiss his lips and then his jaw tenderly, “I have the best teacher.”
Din wraps his arms around you and reaches down to palm your ass over the soft satin, “Happy Valentine’s Day, pretty bird,” done with all the teasing, he descends on your mouth, immediately parting your lips and slipping in to stroke your tongue with his.
Letting out a soft moan, you deepen the kiss by licking hungrily into Din’s mouth, pulling away only when he starts to walk you backwards towards the ropes, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Din. Are you ready to go upstairs and have some pie?”
“Dessert first, then pie,” grins Din, giving you a spank on your rear.
You squeal, happy, “You got it, coach.”
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