Immortal By Design
Possessed!Din Djarin x F!Reader
Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist | Story Playlist
Author’s note: I originally had this posted as a mini series, but I decided to make it a one shot instead! (。◕‿◕。) To see what this Din looks like, click here! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Summary: Din Djarin picks up a mysterious job at the Bounty Hunter’s Guild from a high paying client that specifically requested him. Once he tracks down the bounty, he discovers two things— you tracking the bounty for different reasons entirely and a lot more than he bargained for.
Word count: 8k
Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent (long live the Razor Crest), no Grogu in this universe, possession, cursed object, dark!Din, monsterfucking (I think), Din has heightened capabilities, dub con/noncon, restraints, reader gets captured, oral sex (M and F receiving), rough oral sex, fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, mir’sheb = smart ass, character death, no use of y/n
Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics Fic recs: @kelbellsficrecs
Part One: Possession of Another Kind
It’s a typical day on Nevarro. Din walks through the marketplace, heading towards the Bounty Hunters Guild to pick up another job as part of his normal routine.
Typical. Normal. Ordinary.
That is unless he steps into the Guild.
“Mando!” Karga shouts, beckoning for him to come to his booth. He seems frantic… urgent. Before Din even has a chance to speak, Karga continues, pulling out a tracking fob and setting it on the table.
But for once there’s no bounty poster hologram, no flickering blue lights.
“No poster?” Din asks, cocking his helmet to the side.
“No… But the reward is quite large.”
“How much?”
Karga scans the room, eyes bouncing from person to person. He leans forward, lowering his voice and saying, “A million credits.”
Din can’t believe his ears. There’s no way this is legit. No one on Nevarro or in the Outer Rim for that matter has that kind of credits.
“Sounds like a scam,” Din says, leaning back in the booth.
“It’s not. Droid came here this morning and dropped off the fob. Said they’d back with the reward once the bounty was captured.”
“You know I don’t care for droids.”
“You can’t pass up this reward.”
“…No one else wanted this job?”
“The client specifically requested you.”
Din’s hairs stand on their ends. A shiver runs down his spine. The fact that someone did their research… Someone who knows who he is and specifically chose him for the job is suspicious but also intriguing. And the reward is too prosperous to pass up. This bounty must be dangerous if the client is willing to pay this much.
“Fine. I’ll do it,” he sighs. He takes the fob from the table and slips out of the booth.
“Good luck,” Karga says with a strange look in his eye.
Din isn’t one to get scared, but the circumstances here are undeniably ominous. Between Karga’s strange behavior, the missing bounty poster, and the absurdly high reward, Din has an unsettling feeling coursing through his body. He heads back to the Crest, his mind wandering with the possibilities of what exactly he just got himself into.
He plugs in the coordinates from the fob into the control panel of the Crest. And the location is an immediate red flag…
The bounty is located on Malachor of all places.
Malachor is a barren wasteland of a planet. Din knows the planet means bad news but he doesn’t know why exactly. Something about the Empire or the Sith. The Empire he’s well acquainted with but the Sith? The Jedi? Not so much.
At least if it’s a barren place, the bounty shouldn’t be too hard to find, right? He’s not too worried about the potential Sith connotations just yet. Din’s a capable warrior, raised by the best of the best in the galaxy. He should be able to hold his own without too many troubles.
He sets a course for Malachor and takes off. Nevarro gets smaller and smaller underneath him and the unsettling feeling returns. He just keeps reminding himself of the life-changing reward he’ll receive if he succeeds.
Not if but when.
-
It doesn’t take too long to get to Malachor from Nevarro. Both are Outer Rim planets. So thankfully, the journey there was rather uneventful.
But when he lands on Malachor? That’s a different story.
He lands the Razor Crest on the desolate surface, grabs the fob, and heads outside. Barren would be an understatement to describe this planet. It’s empty. There’s not a single soul around for miles. It feels like the planet is absent of all light sources. Thick, gray, clouds coat the sky above him. The ground beneath his feet is a rocky wasteland. It’s not hard to understand why there’s no life here; why no one comes here. All of this begs the question; what is the bounty doing here?
He follows the signal of the tracking fob, feeling like he’s walking in circles for ages. His surroundings are the same, with no identifiable landmarks or features around to let him know he’s making progress. He feels his sanity start to slip. The tracking fob keeps beeping monotonously, showing no signs that he’s getting closer to the target. It’s driving him insane. For an uninhabited planet, this bounty is a lot harder to find than he originally thought. He starts to wonder… Is this even worth it anymore? Is it worth his time and frustration?
He interrupts his own train of thought.
Yes. Yes, it is worth it. For a million credits, you’ll spend however long it takes to find the bounty, he tells himself.
Good things come to those who wait. In the distance just over the horizon line, he spots something odd. As he gets closer he can slowly make out what it is– four top-heavy, pyramidal stones situated in a square formation. The tracking fob beeps faster and louder as he gets closer to the stones. Once he’s up close and personal with them he sees just how massive they are. They tower over him and etched in the stone is a language he can’t understand, written in bright red. One of the stones is surrounded by an opening in the planet, a deep hole descending below the surface. The tracking fob only goes crazier as he draws closer to the crater. Only way to go from here is down.
He uses his jetpack to carefully lower himself into the hole, using the lamp attached to his helmet to see where he’s going. Once he feels the ground beneath his feet, he looks around and can’t believe his eyes.
A vast field of stones is buried underneath the surface, each of them etched with the same red lettering he saw up above. And in the center of the field is a black stone pyramid, the tip of it glowing red. He looks beneath him and he’s standing on a cliff. He lowers himself deeper into the field of stones, his hairs standing on their ends. This is unmistakably a bad place.
Something ominous looms in the air, a feeling of dread brewing in Din’s stomach. But he persists, following the trail the tracking fob is taking him. He inches closer and closer to the temple? The tomb? Whatever that pyramid-looking thing is. As he gets closer to it, a disembodied voice calls to him.
Come closer.
…Is it the bounty? The voice didn’t sound like it was speaking out loud… It sounded like it was inside Din’s head.
But how is that possible?
He’s at the opening of the pyramid and it all happens so fast. The tracking fob is ballistic, beeping, and flashing lights rapidly. Everything is a blur around him. It’s like his mind isn’t in control of his body.
All he can hear is the fob going off and the voice talking directly in his ear.
Come find me.
A large box stands before him, blackened stone etched with red, just like everything else in this strange place. He’s not sure what this place is exactly but he feels like he has to be standing in some sort of temple. The box looks more like a tomb, long enough for Din to fit inside of it lying down. This place definitely belongs to some sort of religion. Maybe even a cult. Could this place belong to the Sith? What is he getting himself into?
Open the lid, the voice commands.
He does as he’s told, lifting the heavy stone lid and revealing… an amulet.
Put me on. Don’t be shy, the voice says.
He looks down at the fob in his hand, the beeping is incessant. It can’t be any clearer that this… this thing is what he was sent to look for.
Put me on, the voice commands again.
He takes the silver chain in his hands, the red pendant glowing red just like everything else here. He really shouldn’t put this strange, seemingly bewitched object on but he feels compelled to. The voice is convincing, talking to him like this is what he’s supposed to be doing.
He lifts the chain above his helmet pulling it down around his neck.
Protect me. Keep me close to your heart.
Without thinking he tucks the chain into his flight suit, feeling the cool metal contrast against his warm skin. All of a sudden he feels… different. He’s not really sure how to explain it but he feels better, like he’s more in tune with himself. He feels stronger, more alert, almost like he’s on another plane of existence. It’s exhilarating like someone just gave him the best drugs in the galaxy.
The beeping on the tracking fob finally subsides. Could it be that he was after all this time? That doesn’t make sense. He was sent to track down… an object? No, that can’t be right.
But it does make sense why there was no bounty poster. It makes sense why the client was so mysterious.
Another question crosses his mind…
Why was the reward so high?
His mind swirls with questions and possibilities as to what this all means—the voice buts in, interrupting his train of thought.
It doesn’t matter how or why. It happened for a reason.
He decides the voice is right and revels in his newfound heightened state. Listening to this voice that seemingly comes from nowhere feels right, almost like he’s complete.
As he exits the pyramid a shout rips him from his bliss.
“What have you done?!”
He turns around to find a woman. That woman is you, your brow furrowed and your face aghast. You storm over to him, your eyes looking past him and into the pyramid; into the open tomb.
Din’s speechless, unsure of what exactly your problem is. He was just completing a job. What’s it to you? Mindlessly, his hand gravitates towards the chain under his flight suit, almost feeling the need to protect it.
“You didn’t put it on, did you?” you ask, turning your gaze back towards him.
“What does it matter to you?” he snaps.
“You have no idea what you just did.”
“It’s a necklace. I put it on. It’s not the end of the world,” he deadpans.
“You don’t know what that is?”
“…No?”
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. Din doesn’t understand what’s going on, he doesn’t understand why you’re so pressed by this. It’s just an object. It can’t hurt anyone.
“That amulet is cursed by one of the Mortis Gods… the Son.”
“…Who?”
“You don’t know who the Mortis Gods are? The Ones?”
“It sounds familiar?”
Don’t listen to her, the voice chimes in.
“The Mortis Gods were a powerful family of force-wielders. The Son embodied the Dark Side. The Daughter embodied the light side. And the Father held the balance between them until the Son grew too powerful. And then- Actually you know what? I’m not here to give you a kriffing history lesson. The bottom line is the Son cursed that amulet you’re wearing.”
DON’T LISTEN TO HER.
“Why is that a problem?” he asks, getting defensive.
“You don’t feel… different?”
Deny. Deny. Deny.
“No.”
In one swift motion, you’re grabbing a dagger hidden in your boot and reaching for the cowl of his cape. You rest the flat side of the blade against the fabric, glaring into his visor.
“So you don’t mind if I cut the chain off of you?”
Some innate instinct comes over him, the primal urge to protect what is now his. He swats the dagger from your hand, his arm looping around your neck and placing you in a headlock. His other hand reaches for the handcuffs on his belt, grabbing them and enclosing them around your wrists.
Good. This is good.
“What the”
Leave her here.
“What’s stopping me from leaving you here?” he says, tightening the headlock.
“Be my guest. But I’ll just say this– You have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”
“And you do?”
“Yes. I’ve been researching this for many cycles now. You leave me here? You sabotage yourself.”
His grip around your neck softens and he slowly releases you, grabbing your upper arm.
What are you doing? I said leave her here. Stop-
“Fine, but you’re coming with me.”
He bends down and wraps his arms around your thighs, hoisting you over his shoulder. Din’s always been a strong man but everything he does feels so effortless. His senses are heightened. His reflexes are swift. He feels like he’s at his peak; the best version of himself.
You protest, banging your fists into his back but it doesn’t matter. He’s drowning out your angry shouts and listening to the voice.
Fine. Take her back to your ship and keep her as a prisoner. She’s nothing but a loose end.
He makes his way out of the underground cavern and back up to the surface, completely tuning out everything you’re saying. When you try to wiggle free he just tightens his grip, keeping you firmly pressed up against his body.
Once he’s on the surface again, he sees what must be your ship— or what’s left of it anyway. You crash landed here. In actuality, without Din, you’d be stranded here. And he doesn’t miss the opportunity to remind you that.
“Quit complaining,” he says, cutting off your shouts of protest, “Without me, you’d be rotting away here.”
You sigh and Din feels like he could almost hear you roll your eyes. His comment worked, though. Because for the rest of the journey back to the Razor Crest, you’re silent. Only muttering a few words under your breath as he sets you down on a crate in the storage area.
His helmet snaps towards you. He acts like he can’t hear what you said but the truth is he did. You muttered something about how he only cursed himself in the end.
“What was that?” he asks, crouching down in front of you.
“You have no idea what you just did to yourself.”
“And you do?” he counters, “Why is this necklace such a big deal to you?”
“Like I said before, it's cursed.”
“Cursed how?”
“It makes the wearer immortal. But if they were to take it off, they’d die.”
Don’t listen to her. It doesn't matter. No one is taking me from you.
“Did you say… immortal?”
“Mhm.”
“But… how can that be?”
“You really don’t know anything about this? You didn’t mean to put it on?”
“No. I was sent here to track down a bounty. I was expecting a person, not a piece of jewelry.”
“Who sent you here?”
“The client was anonymous.”
You lean back against the metal wall of the Crest, eyes wide and lost in thought. Din’s had enough of your questioning, though. Who are you exactly to question him while he’s just trying to do his job and get paid?
“Who are you?” he asks.
“Does it matter?”
“It does. Clearly, you know what this is. Were you after it for yourself?”
“No! That’s not it at all. I wanted to destroy it. I-”
She’s lying. Silence her.
Surely the voice isn’t telling him to kill you… Right?
Even if that’s what the voice is insinuating, he doesn’t do it. Instead, he grabs you by the arm again and hauls you to the carbonite freezer. You beg and plead for him to reconsider his actions but he doesn’t listen, drowning out your voice and following his instincts again. Soon enough, you’re encapsulated in the carbonite. Without a second thought, Din climbs the ladder to the cockpit and sets a course back to Nevarro. He sends a transmission to Karga, letting him know that he secured the “bounty” that way the mysterious droid will be back with the credits. There are only two things on his mind; collect his reward and learn more about his newfound power.
-
Part Two: Purge the Poison
Din lands on Nevarro with adrenaline coursing through his body. This is what this treacherous journey has been leading up to– the reward. He takes one last look at you frozen in the carbonite before leaving and heading back to the Guild. He’s not sure how this is supposed to work. He doesn’t have a bounty to deliver. He just has an object, bound to his neck that he allegedly can’t take off. He should be able to collect the credits, right?
Wrong.
The droid never returned.
“I don’t know, Mando. The droid never came back.”
“So what am I supposed to do?” The voice is noticeably quiet for once…
“All we can do is wait. I don’t have a way to contact the client,” Karga sighs.
Din leans back in the booth and closes his eyes. He’s not just angry– he’s enraged. But he keeps his cool, not snapping here in the Guild.
“You know where to find me,” he says, irritation heavy in his voice. He slips out of the booth and storms out of there, heading back to the Crest where you’re waiting for him, still encased in carbonite.
He’s filled with so much pent-up rage that he doesn’t know what to do with himself. It’s bursting at the seams. It’s threatening to bubble up over the surface. It’s about to let itself loose and out into the world. It’ll tear him apart if he doesn’t do something about it.
I know what you can do about it.
He internally winces at what the voice is about to suggest.
Kill someone. Kill her.
He can’t and he shouldn’t. For the time being you’re valuable to him. You mysteriously have much information about the strange item he found on Malachor. Where did you come from? How do you know so much about this amulet? Were you lying when you said you wanted to destroy it?
Once he’s back inside the Crest he gets to work on unfreezing you. He watches as your carbonite slowly melts away, revealing your damp and shivering form. He catches you as you fall forward, keeping you upright. You’re blinking rapidly, searching your surroundings.
“Your vision will return,” he says curtly.
“I know,” you snap.
He forcefully grabs you by the shoulders and drags you to a crate. He sits you down but leaves your cuffs on. He walks to his bunk and grabs his blanket, draping it around your shoulders before crouching down in front of you.
“You’re going to tell me what you know about this,” he says, pulling the amulet out from under his flight suit but never taking it off, “And you’re going to tell me who you are.”
“I already told you what I know about it. You’re immortal until you take it off.”
“And then what? I’ll die.”
“Yup. I’ve been researching it for a long time.”
“Why? What put you onto this?”
“I’m a history professor at Coruscant University. My thesis was on the Mortis Gods which led me to the Son’s Amulet. I spent many cycles trying to figure out if it even existed and where it was hidden,” you explain, looking past his helmet.
“What were you going to do with it once you found it?” he asks, tucking the amulet away.
“Destroy it,” you say, meeting his visor.
“Beat you to it.”
“I know but now you’re the one who’s screwed.”
Don’t listen to her. Think of all the untapped potential you have.
“Whatever, mir’sheb.”
“Huh?”
“Smartass.”
“I’d rather be a smartass than a dumbass,” you retort.
“I am not-”
“You put on a creepy haunted necklace all because the voice told you to.”
He physically feels the blood drain from his face.
“You know about the voice?”
“Mhm.”
Silence her.
But he can’t kill you.
“I bet that voice is telling you to do all sorts of nefarious things,” you tease.
His fists clench and unclench at his sides. You and your smart mouth. If only he could take out his frustration on you. If only you weren’t so valuable to him. If only there were another way to relieve his tension…
“I’d stop talking if I were you.”
“Oh yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” you counter, mouth forming into a smirk.
“Wipe that smirk off your face,” he answers.
“I’d like to see you try.”
You irritate the hell out of him but he can’t deny how attracted he is to you. Between the sly smirk on your face, the mischievous look in your eye, the little droplets of water beaded up on your skin, and how you don’t seem to be afraid of him even though you should be– Maker, it all makes his cock twitch with arousal.
It’s almost like the voice takes over with the way he swiftly rises from the floor, grabs you by the waist, and throws you over his shoulder.
“What the-” you start.
“Talk a big game, get punished,” he says nonchalantly, setting you down on his bunk.
You open your mouth to speak but you’re at a loss for words, face to face with his massive bulge. He undoes the fly of his flight suit, his cock springing free. You stare at its intimidating size, it's rock-hard and directly in your face. It leaves you speechless.
“Think you can handle it?” he teases.
Maker, he wants to grab your face and shove his cock down your throat– completely fucking your face. He can tell you want it, too, from the way you ogle it with wide eyes.
It’s not gonna suck itself.
He hooks a hand around the back of your head and wraps the other around the base of his cock, forcefully thrusting himself in your mouth. He lets out a deep, guttural moan at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth encapsulating his cock.
His hands move to each side of your face as he thrusts in and out. Your mouth stretches open even wider to accommodate his girth as tears spring in the corners of your eyes.
“Not smirking now are you, mir’sheb,” he says, your tear-filled eyes locked with his underneath the helmet.
You moan in response and he fucks your face even harder. Tears are rolling down your cheeks now and the sight has him ready to bust. With one last thrust into your mouth, he spills his cum down your throat, holding your head in place as he finishes. Once he’s done he pulls out and to his delight but your horror, he’s still hard. It’s the voice, the curse, or the amulet– whatever this is that has him so feral.
He has to see your body, he has to feel you underneath him. But you’re still wearing your cuffs. If he takes them off will you bolt? Will you make a break for it, leaving him here with his cock still wet?
He leans forward and unlocks your cuffs, anticipating your next move. He expects you to run but you don’t, instead you’re sitting here with a wild look in your eye. He reaches for the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head. He pushes you down on the bunk and hooks his hand around the waistband of your pants, sliding them off along with your underwear.
Look at her. She’s lying here so patiently, so obediently for you. Use this opportunity to claim her as your own.
He’s not thinking. He’s following whatever the voice tells him to do. He takes off his helmet, not even thinking about the repercussions he’ll face. He’s got two things on his mind; marking up your body and being inside you already. He sets the helmet down on the floor and takes off his gloves before hovering over you on the bunk. Your eyes widen when they meet his and a shocked expression washes over your face. But why? How do you know he’s taken the creed? Surely a history professor would know that there are all sorts of Mandalorians; ones that walk both ways. It isn’t until he looks over at the small mirror he has hanging on the wall of his bunk.
His eyes. Maker, his eyes. They’re no longer their usual shade of warm brown. His irises are a pale purple shade, eerily glowing. It startles him for a split second before his attention turns back to you, writhing underneath him.
He brings two fingers to his mouth and moistens them, spreading your legs apart and sliding them inside you. You gasp at the sudden girth of his thick fingers expanding your walls. He curls them against your g-spot repeatedly, your pleasure continuously building. In no time, he pulls your first orgasm from you, feeling the way your cunt flutters around his fingers. Your release soaks his hand and once he feels that you’re done, he pulls his fingers from you and soaks his cock with your wetness. In one swift motion, he thrusts inside you, giving you no time to adjust to the newfound length and girth. He plants his hands by either side of your head, locking eyes with you as he fucks you relentlessly, driving his hips into you at an unforgiving pace.
He leans forward and marks up your neck with his mouth, nipping and biting at the soft skin. He moves up and down before switching sides, licking where his teeth just marked you. You gasp and moan at the repeated pattern of biting, licking, and kissing. Once he feels his work is complete he pulls back and locks eyes with you once more.
You fall speechless, unable to form any real words besides deep moans and mangled sobs. Tears continue to roll down your cheeks, your mouth falling open into a soft O. He’s going to cum if he keeps watching you become reduced to a complete mess underneath him. Your walls tighten up around his cock in anticipation of a big release. He feels the way your cunt grips and releases his cock rhythmically. It draws his own orgasm from him, his cock spilling his warm cum with the head nestled by your cervix. He groans while letting out a string of Mando’a curse words that he himself can barely understand, not in his blissful state.
He pulls out and collapses on top of you, his head resting in the crook of your neck. You’re both panting against each other and once the endorphins finally settle regret sinks in. No, not because he had sex with you. Because he took his helmet off.
His chest heaves for a moment and he does his best to hide it, not wanting to seem weak after the power he just showed you. For some strange reason, he’s worried about what you’ll think of him– you who’s so irritating, who gets under his skin like no one else. Yes, he’s worried that your perception of him will change.
“Mando?” you ask, voice soft and concerned, “Are you okay?”
“I… I’m not supposed to do that.”
“Cum inside me?” you tease.
“No,” he says, pulling himself off of you and sitting at the foot of the bunk, “Take off my helmet.”
“Oh,” you say, sitting up and moving beside him, “Then why did you do it?”
“The voice told me to,” he says, placing his head in his hands.
You bring your hand to the back of his neck. At first, he stiffens up, not used to the feeling of someone’s hands there. But once your hand travels up to his hair, rubbing small circles against his scalp, he relaxes.
“You didn’t know? That the voice could make you do things you never thought possible?”
“No,” he sighs.
“You really had no idea what you were getting into, didn’t you?”
“Did you think I was lying?” he asks, turning his head and glancing at you.
“Honestly… yes.”
“I wasn’t. I was sent to Malachor for a bounty.”
“And the tracker led you to the amulet?”
“Mhm.”
“But why would someone send you there?”
“I’m not sure. I should’ve never taken it but the reward was high.”
“How much?”
“...A million credits. I know it sounds too good to be true.”
“Did you go to collect the reward yet?”
“Yeah. The client never showed up to pay.”
You fall silent for a moment, lost in thought. His eyes search your face for some sort of answer and once again, the voice is noticeably silent.
“Do you still have the tracking fob?”
He gets up and grabs it off a shelf in the storage area, sitting beside you on the bed and handing it to you. You activate it and study the mysterious absence of a bounty poster. You turn it off and hand it back to him, asking, “Was there anything else… weird about the job?”
“The client supposedly requested me specifically.”
“Strange…” you trail off.
Both of you sit in uncomfortable silence, trying to put all the pieces together.
“Why would someone want to make you immortal?” you wonder out loud.
Din’s guess is as good as anyone’s. He’s been trying and failing to wrap his head around what he got himself into.
“Mando… I think you were set up.”
“What?! By who?!” he asks, his purple eyes locking with yours again.
“I can’t answer that…”
“...Will you help me find out who?”
You pause, looking at him with a sort of pity in your eyes. Without saying a word, he pleads with you, his strange-colored eyes begging for help, something to save him from this impossible situation he’s found himself in.
“I really don’t want to but… You did save me from being stranded on Malachor,” you sigh, “But fine. I’ll help you.”
The two of you have to start somewhere.
-
Part Three: Legends Never Die
“If I’m going to help you, I think I deserve to know your name,” you say.
Do not tell her.
For once he can’t listen to the voice. This amulet, this voice told him to take off his helmet. Something he’d never do. His creed is the most important thing to him. And this… whatever it is overpowered his respect and devotion to his creed. That just won’t do.
If he’s going to get rid of this thing, he has to learn to trust you.
“Din Djarin,” he says with a sigh.
You tell him your name and the both of you feel like you’re finally starting somewhere.
“What do we do now?” Din asks.
“Well, we’ve established you were set up but we need to figure out why. What does this person have to gain from doing this to you?”
“I don’t know.”
“I know. I’m just thinking out loud.”
“You said this amulet is from one of the Mortis Gods?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t know much about them.”
“They were just an extremely powerful family of force-wielders.”
“Where were they from?”
“Mortis.”
“Oh,” Din says, feeling kind of stupid.
He’s not familiar with this kind of stuff— the Jedi, the Sith, the Force. As far as he’s concerned, he’s just a regular person, trying to make a living in the galaxy by bounty hunting. He didn’t piss off anyone important that he can recall.
“Can you take me somewhere?” you ask, snapping him from his thoughts.
“Where to?”
“Coruscant. I think we need to make a little trip to the university’s library.”
He grabs his helmet off the floor and replaces it on his head.
“Let’s go,” he says, reaching for your hand to help you out of the bunk.
He helps you to your feet, letting you get dressed while he puts on his gloves. You follow him to the cockpit, sitting in one of the passenger seats while he prepares the Crest for takeoff. It’s silent between you two, an awkward silence. He’s unsure of what your relationship is exactly. At first, you were his prisoner. Technically, you still could be. And then he had sex with you and he feels awful about the implications in which it happened. You were handcuffed in his ship and at not only his mercy but the voice’s mercy, too. And now here you are, helping him when he’s been nothing but an asshole to you.
Don’t think like that, the voice tells him.
He can’t listen to it now. His own guilt is louder than the voice.
Once you’re in hyperspace he turns to you and says, “I just want to say… I’m sorry.”
“Sorry for what?”
“For capturing you. For… what we did earlier.”
“You’re apologizing about the sex?” you ask with a smirk.
“I wasn’t sure if it was okay.”
“It was.”
“It was?”
“Stop overthinking it.”
“…Really?”
“You’re acting like I didn’t enjoy it.”
“You did?”
“Was it not obvious?”
“Yes. I mean no. I just…. I don’t know anymore.”
“Hey,” you say, leaning forward and grabbing his hand, “I know you have a lot going on in your head right now. And I’m sure a lot of it is confusing but I’m here to help in whatever way I can.”
“But why? Why do you want to help me even after I was so terrible to you?”
“I just… I feel bad. You had no idea what you were getting into. You didn’t deserve any of this.”
“Thank you,” he says softly.
“Of course. But don’t get sappy on me.”
“Got it,” he says, spinning around in his seat and facing the control panel again.
It doesn’t matter what you find, or what you research. You’re stuck with me.
All he can do is close his eyes and try to drown out the voice.
-
He’s walking side by side with you towards the university, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides. He’s anxious about what you’re about to find. But what’s his place from here on out? Is he supposed just to drop you off and reunite with you when you’re done? However long that will be…
Standing in front of the library, he prepares to bid you goodbye, confused about why he’s got a pit in his stomach.
“I guess I’ll see you when you’re done?” he says, mentally wincing in anticipation of your response.
“What? Why?”
“I just assumed-”
“You can stay.”
“I can?”
“If you want. I’m not sure how long it’ll take and it might be kind of boring but… you’re more than welcome to stay here with me.”
He pauses, thinking about what you said. He’s welcome to stay but do you want him to?
“Do you want me to?”
Kriff, he didn’t mean for that to actually come out.
“I do.”
“Okay then,” he says, walking into the library with you.
The library is packed with students and as you walk through the aisle picking books off the shelves, they turn their heads when you pass them by. He’s used to it but for some reason this time it makes him self-conscious, as if they’re piercing into his soul and aware of the secret he’s harboring.
After you have your collection of books you bring him to one of the study nooks in the back of the library away from all the prying eyes. He watches how your brow furrows when you’re lost in thought, scanning the pages for anything to help him out of this mess. He feels a bit useless, watching you pour yourself over book after book for hours on end while he sits and does… nothing.
You put your elbow on the table, resting your head in your hand. As you lean to the side, your neck becomes exposed and Din’s eyes settle right on a spot that looks like the perfect place to sink his teeth…
Stop, he tells himself.
But he fears the voice has taken over and he’s no longer looking at you with adoring eyes, but lusting ones instead.
Take her here, now. Bend her over the table. Who cares about anyone who sees?
His cock twitches in his flight suit and he doesn’t think he can take it anymore.
“Din?” you ask softly, setting down your book.
“Hm?”
“Do you want to go somewhere else?”
“What do you mean? I thought you had to do research.”
“Well, yes but I can just continue researching in my office,” you say, eyes looking past Din and scanning the library.
“Why? Are you worried about people looking at us?”
“No! No, that’s not it at all. I just wasn’t sure if you were-”
“Who cares? But if you want a little more privacy then why not?” he says, standing from his seat and gathering the books.
He shuffles them to one arm and grabs your hand, proudly leading you out of the library without a single care in the world about who may be looking at him.
“Where to?” he says, turning to look at you once you’re outside.
“Across the quad in the North Tower.”
He nods and grabs you by the hand again, not caring about the people stopping to stare, many of whom are your students. You keep your eyes on Din, on the sunlight bouncing off his helmet, watching as his cape billows in the wind with his confident stride.
He lets you take the lead once you’re inside the building, walking up a grand staircase until you arrive at your office, a large room with high vaulted ceilings and towering bookshelves. Floor-to-ceiling windows draw natural light in and a long wooden desk sits in the center of the room. He sets the book down on one of your chairs and grabs you by the waist, setting you on your desk. He grabs the waistband of your pants and practically rips them off of you.
“So much for researching,” you say smugly, looking up at him with a grin.
“Gonna have to do something about that smart mouth of yours, mir’sheb,” he says darkly.
His hands gravitate to the bottom of his helmet. A look of realization flashes in your eyes and you reach your hands out, trying to stop him. But he’s stronger than you, grabbing your hands and forcing them by your sides. He pulls off his helmet, revealing the same matted curls and piercing purple stare. He spreads your thighs apart and kneels on the floor, face hovering over your cunt. He licks one slow stripe up your cunt before flicking his tongue around your clit. His strong arms lock around your thighs, keeping your cunt flush against his face. His eyes don’t leave yours, looking up at you as he slowly eats you out. The eye contact is intense, almost too much to bear. But when you try to look away he stops, starting to pull his face away until you look at him again. With one last swirl of his tongue around your clit, you cum against his face, thighs shaking against the desk. He laps up your release, moaning at the taste until you’re done. And now he just has to have you.
He stands up and pulls out his cock from his flight suit, stroking it a few times before gathering some of your release with his fingers and slathering his cock with it. He reaches forward and swipes away the contents of your desk, pushing you down so you’re lying against the wood. He thrusts into you in one slow motion, staying still inside you for a moment before drawing his hips back and slamming into you repeatedly. He pulls off one glove, tossing it on the floor and bringing his thumb to your clit. One hand grips your hip while the other rubs circles around your clit. He glares down at you, his body towering over yours as he rails you against your desk. You cum around his cock, eyes locked on his once again. The sensation of your cunt gripping his cock pulls his orgasm from him, warm cum spilling inside you with a grunt. He pulls out of you and sits in your desk hair, holding his head in his hands. You scramble off the desk and reach for his helmet, kneeling in front of him and lifting his head. He looks at you with the same look in his eye like last time, like he just let himself down. You replace his helmet on his head, cupping the hollow part where his cheeks would be.
“It’s okay,” you say softly.
“I know,” he sighs, “I would just like to do… that without feeling bad.”
“About the helmet,” he quickly adds.
“I know,” you chuckle, “I’m not offended. I get it. But I can’t lie and say that the eye contact wasn’t hot.”
“It was?”
“It was. But it would be hotter if it were your choice, not the other way around.”
“Right… Thank you… for understanding.”
“Of course,” you say, rising from the floor and grabbing your pants, “But back to business.”
“Back to business,” he agrees.
-
Months go by with Din glued to your side, helping in whatever way he can with the research. You think you might have found some sort of motive behind why someone would do this to him but the question of who is still a mystery.
“To travel to another galaxy?” Din asks.
“I think so. It’s just a theory.”
“There are other galaxies?”
“You think we’re the only one?”
“I guess not. But why?”
“That I still don’t know. And I’m just assuming about the traveling to other galaxies thing, too. The planet Mortis was said to be in a different realm.”
“Interesting…” he trails off. “How much longer do you think?”
“I’m not sure. If you think you have to get back to Nevarro, I understand.”
“I don’t want to leave you. But maybe I’ll go check the Crest for any transmissions.”
“Okay, sounds good. I’ll be here,” you say, looking up at him from your desk.
He caresses the side of your face, his gaze lingering on you before he leaves, walking through the campus and back to the docking yard where the Razor Crest is parked. On the way there, he thinks about his time here and how one good thing came from this… you. If he’s forced to be a monster all his life, at least he has someone that understands. But then there’s the other thing… He’ll be a monster all his life, until the end of time, outliving you and anyone else he may care about. He tries not to think about that.
Once he’s inside the ship he sees that he has a transmission from Greef Karga, which could mean one of two things; Karga’s got bounties and he’s wondering where Din is or the droid actually returned.
He presses the button for the transmission to play and listens;
“Mando! I’m not sure where you’ve been but the droid from that strange bounty returned… It didn’t bring the reward, though. It said his client will meet you where you captured the bounty in the first place. Strange request, I know. But supposedly the client will have the credits. Just be careful.”
Back to Malachor, it is.
He bolts from the Crest, anxiously heading back to you to tell you the news. You’re where he left you, of course.
“I have news.”
“Oh?” you ask, looking up from your book.
“I received a transmission from Karga. The droid returned. It said to meet the client on Malachor.”
“Really?”
“Yes… So what do you want to do?”
“We go to Malachor,” you say, rising from your chair.
“Let’s go,” he says, with a tip of his helmet.
As you’re sitting in the cockpit of the Razor Crest, you grab his hand as he’s preparing the ship for takeoff.
“Whatever happens… I love you, okay?”
He stops, turning to look at you, stunned by what you just said. He feels it, too, but it breaks his heart knowing that this love will end in one of two ways; he’ll outlive you or he’ll choose to take off the amulet. And both choices make him unsettled.
“I love you, too,” he says, squeezing your hand before turning to face the control panel.
This is it. Months of research have led up to this.
-
The familiar sight of Malachor comes into view. He lands the Razor Crest by the same pyramidal stones he saw months ago. So far, no sign of anyone. Surely they’re waiting for Din in the Sith temple, ending this where it all started.
He takes you by the waist, holding you as he lowers himself down to the temple underground. He gave you a blaster before you left the Crest, turning to make sure you have it drawn before proceeding further.
As you head towards the pyramid, someone from behind you clears their throat. You both spin around, blasters drawn and ready to aim at whoever’s there. It’s a man, someone neither of you recognizes. He’s wearing all black and his hair is gray. There’s a lightsaber attached to his belt but he hasn’t drawn it… yet.
“I’ve been expecting you,” he says, glancing at Din, “It seems you brought a friend.”
“Who are you?” Din asks.
“A Sith,” you say in disgust.
“Not a Sith,” the man says, looking over at you.
“Then why did you lead us here?” Din asks.
“Din Djarin,” the man says, “Do you know the significance of that amulet you’re wearing?”
“It belonged to one of the Mortis Gods.”
“Very good. And do you know why I sent you to find it?”
“You want to use him to travel between the galaxies.”
The man looks at you again, taking a step closer.
“Clever girl,” he says, “But do you know why?”
“I know you,” you say, looking at him and the way his face is illuminated with red light from the temple behind you.
“Do you?”
“You’re… You’re Baylan Skoll.”
“Clever, clever girl. Look at the two of you, both so smart. But neither of you have answered my question… Why?”
“I don’t… I don’t know. What could you possibly be trying to find in another galaxy?” you ask.
“Mortis?” Din adds.
“So close yet so far,” Baylan tuts, “Forget about Mortis. I’m searching for Peridea.”
Din looks at you, searching for answers but the truth is… you don’t have any.
“What do you want with Peridea?”
“To bring Grand Admiral Thrawn out of exile,” Baylan says.
“...Who?” Din asks.
“You’re funny,” you snort.
“I’m being serious. With the Mandalorian’s immortality, nothing is going to stop me.”
“Why Din?” you press.
“He doesn’t have the reputation of being the best bounty hunter in the Galaxy for no reason.”
“I can’t let you bring Thrawn back to the Galaxy,” you say, raising your blaster.
Baylan draws his lightsaber and ignites it, a vibrant orange hue emitting from the blade. Din raises his blaster, too, and a fight ensues. It doesn’t matter how much you shoot at Baylan, he just deflects all the blasts with his saber. He inches closer towards you, deflecting your blasts faster and faster as he corners you against a stone. He knows he doesn’t have to do anything to Din and he just assumes the voice will take over, forcing Din to join Baylan’s fight against you.
Join him and kill her. Join him and kill her. Join him and kill her!!!
But Din doesn’t.
Instead, he raises his blaster at the back of Baylan’s head. Baylan turns around, getting ready to defend himself against Din but it’s no use. With one blast to the head, Baylan falls to the ground. It turns out the urge to protect you was stronger than the voice’s pull to get him to join Baylan.
Din rushes over to you, putting his blaster back on his hip and pulling you into his arms.
“It’s… over?” he asks, feeling your racing heartbeat.
“I think so,” you sigh.
“But you’re stuck like this,” you say, pulling back and looking at him.
He knew it could end like this, with him living out his days without you once you pass.
Or… There was a third option all along.
“What are you going to do?” you ask, snapping him from his thoughts.
He fiddles with the chain around his neck before saying, “Take this off when the time is right.”
You nod, leaning against him just a little bit longer before leaving the temple together, hand in hand.
Mando dividers/support banners by @saradika-graphics !!!
Thank you to @pedgito for beta reading, reassuring me that this was any good, and helping me plot this all out 🖤
@pedrostories
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